#well first of all. sorry for answering this ask... a genuine and real 3 years after you sent it

[halechief]

❛ i feel like the burden is being shifted back and forth. the burden of being the one who is pleased. ❜

❝  the burden.  ❞  she cannot help but echo it back to him, for a moment lost as she considers how he always seems to find the words required to render most any feeling in every facet of itself. no side left unilluminated, no edge left unsharpened. it is fair, she thinks, for their peace to be painful. they were never supposed to have it.  ❝  i think we can probably handle that. ❞  she worries that she is making light again, scraping away at some severity he means to instill in her, staring another warning in the face and willing herself not to see it, so that it cannot break what has been so delicately mended. it is work, even if she loves it. even if she prays for it to be true with eyes squeezed tightly shut on some mornings before she ever dares to roll over and confirm that he is there, that he exists in more than just the desperate vacuum of her mind, or a shifting vision in her periphery. he is there, finally a relic no longer — but being with him is not made any less of a challenge simply because it saves her.

there are cracks in the foundation that she can no longer see clearly, or contain. they arrive and assert themselves in the smallest of gestures : his hand will trace along the banister coming down the stairs, and for a moment she will think of the weathered one from the house in maryland. another day she will pass by where he is seated in the living room, reading a book he has already read, or perhaps one he had saved for this eventuality, one he dared not open before the opportunity to do so beneath a roof they both resided under had been won. earned. she will recall how many nights he avoided sleep. how many nights it would not come even if he did attempt it. how she lost the same nights in their staggering number, how both of them suffered and went on suffering, and might well have still been, given any small, shifted circumstance. on those days, the estrangement that he maintained, and even cultivated between them will come stealing in through those narrow fissures and meticulously loosen every carefully tightened bolt of her composure, throw open every latched well of emotion. she will resent him in one breath . . . and let it decay in the next.  ❝  are you happier?  ❞  she wants that, more than anything. infinitely more than a life clean of complications, or loss, or anger.

whatever anger there is will not survive beneath the burden of her relief, even if it should. even if whatever light there is between them will always cast another shadow, even if there are spaces that they will never again fill in one another . . . private hurts that are not within their power to heal. nothing survives the suffocating weight of what it means to her, that when he says this she can turn her hand to let her fingers touch his pulse. nothing can prise from her the notion that whatever there still is for her to experience, it is only worth experiencing with him. it is not owed to any sense of loneliness or grief that only he can comprehend, it is not owed to an inability to imagine life with someone else. she has imagined it. she had given it the effort that seemed to be expected, perhaps even owed. she has thought on more than one occasion that it might have been a kindness, to release him from her. that letting him go might do him more good than it could ever do for her, whether he would have wanted it or not. but she has always, from the beginning, been selfish. she has always wanted more than was proper, more than was offered, more than any person should assume themselves entitled to. it is impossible for her to parse how on earth he had seen his way past that to choose her, to set them on the path that culminates now beneath their feet when she steps closer, her palm resting gently over his heart as she chooses him, too, not for the last time. 

❝  i am.  ❞

[gerrystamour]

i could be honest, i could be human [Chapter 3]

Rated E | Steddie

[ FIRST PART ] [ NEXT PART ]

Summary: “God actually hates me, He has to,” Steve muttered darkly, tipping his head back to look up at the sky. “Kinda rich, coming from God’s favourite Golden Child,” Eddie said, coming around in front of Steve. Seeing his tears, Eddie’s grin faltered. “Shit, who hurt you, Harrington?”

Chapter Three: October 1984

If it didn’t suck so much, Steve would probably laugh about his situation.

Once again, he felt sorry. Not for himself at the moment, even if it felt like he had been gutted, his chest hollowed out with a dull knife. Mostly, he felt sorry for hurting Nancy all over again. The first time he hurt her, it was him being cruel because he was hurt. This time, it was him trying so hard to make things normal for both of them again.

Maybe he felt a little sorry for himself, he thought sadly, his heart heavy with hurt.

He sat at the far side of Tina’s backyard on a bench that faced the forest, smoking a cigarette and trying really hard not to actually cry.

“Hey, Steve?”

Looking up at the sky, Steve blinked rapidly to compose himself before he glanced over his shoulder. “Hey Jonathan, what’s up?” he greeted, his voice only a little shaky.

“Is everything—I saw you come out here, and Nancy is—?” Jonathan stopped abruptly when Steve blinked a tear loose and it streaked down the cheek he could see.

“Shit,” Steve hissed as another tear fell and he scrubbed at his face roughly. “Fuck!”

“Is there some way I can help?” Jonathan asked, soft and genuine, and Steve wished he could be mad at him. If this happened a year ago, he definitely would have snapped at him, maybe even hit him just for seeing him cry.

Blowing out a gusty breath, Steve nodded. “Can you get Nancy home? She’s had a lot to drink and she doesn’t want me—my help,” he said quietly.

“Hey, don’t say that, she loves—” Jonathan started, and Steve cut him off with a sharp sound.

“Jonathan, please. I don’t—just… Make sure Nancy gets home okay?” Steve nearly begged, pinching the bridge of his nose as another stupid wave of tears welled up.

“Yeah, man, totally,” Jonathan said and he grabbed Steve’s shoulder with a gentle firmness that went a long way toward comforting him. “You okay to get home too?”

“I live down the street, man, I’m fine,” Steve chuckled, his voice still wavering and a bit watery.

“Oh, right, I guess I forgot,” Jonathan laughed, and that actually brought a bit of a real smile to Steve’s face. He must have been doing something right over the past year for Jonathan to forget that his parents were rich. “See you at school?”

“Yeah, see you at school,” Steve replied with a nod, patting Jonathan’s hand where it still held his shoulder before the other boy let go.

With a heavy sigh, Steve leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, hanging his head while his forgotten cigarette slowly burned down. He had been quitting that stupid habit, which he’d only picked up in the first place because Tommy smoked. Nancy always made a face when he would lean in to kiss her, even hours after he had smoked, so he gradually just stopped entirely. Of course, now that he was apparently cut loose from that relationship, he was back to his old habits. Would he go back to being King Steve, supreme asshole of Hawkins High? Reclaim his throne from that piece of shit Billy Hargrove?

Was he only a good person because he thought Nancy Wheeler was in love with him?

A new wave of tears welled up and he choked around a sob that stuck in his throat like shards of glass. He let the tears happen this time, staring listlessly down at the ground between his feet, miserably trying to figure out where his performance for Nancy ended and his actual personality began.

When he couldn’t immediately determine that answer, he let out a sighing sob.

He was probably too drunk to be thinking about it.

A shoe scuffed the ground just behind Steve and he tensed, screwing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. Of course Jonathan didn’t actually walk away, too soft to leave his former-bully and sort-of-friend crying on Halloween.

“Byers, I swear to God, if you don’t go take care of Nance like I asked, I’m going to barge into the dark room every time you’re in there until I graduate,” Steve threatened half-heartedly. He somehow already did that more often than he cared to admit, but that was neither here nor there.

“Not Byers, Your Majesty.”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve hissed, sitting up to take a long drag from his cigarette.

Eddie chuckled behind him. “Damn, you’re bad at this, Harrington. Guess again.”

“God actually hates me, He has to,” Steve muttered darkly, tipping his head back to look up at the sky.

“Kinda rich, coming from God’s favourite Golden Child,” Eddie said, coming around in front of Steve. Seeing his tears, Eddie’s grin faltered. “Shit, who hurt you, Harrington?”

Steve bristled, and the thought of telling Eddie anything about what happened in that bathroom… he would legitimately rather take on a Demogorgon again.

“Can we just get this over with, Munson?” Steve asked tiredly, wiping the tears off of his cheeks. To his frustration, they were immediately replaced with fresh ones.

“Get what over—?”

“Y’know, where you laugh at me, call me a bitch or a pussy, and then leave me alone,” Steve said, trying for angry, but he was apparently too sad to muster it and just sounded depressingly resigned.

When Eddie didn’t immediately say anything, Steve met his gaze. The other man’s expression was startling, honestly. It wasn’t the gleeful, delighted expression Eddie had worn outside The Hawk, or any variation of the smiles that seemed to be a permanent feature on his face. He looked… afraid?

At least that would be how Steve would normally identify the wide-eyed, slack-jawed expression. Then again, Steve had determined over the past year of casually noticing Eddie that wide-eyed was more like his default setting.

Eddie finally shut his mouth to clear his throat before shaking his head. “Nah, man. It’s only funny when you’re bleeding,” he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his worn leather jacket.

“What?” Steve scoffed, sneering up at Eddie.

“I don’t like laughing at people who’re crying,” he elaborated with a shrug. “It feels like punching down, even if they probably deserve it.”

“Gee, how fucking kind of you,” Steve grumbled, tossing his cigarette to the ground and snuffing it with his shoe.

“Seriously, Harrington, what’s this all about?” Eddie asked, and Steve hated how genuine he somehow made his voice. Like he actually cared. “Did Byers do this too?”

“Jonathan?” Steve laughed, shaking his head and chewing the inside of his cheek. “Nah, he was just checking on me. I was like this before he showed up.”

After a few moments of silence between them, Eddie sat down next to him and leaned back, spreading his long arms across the back of the bench. “If it wasn’t Byers, who was it?” he asked before affecting a knowing look. “Was it that dick, Billy? Did losing your title as King Douche of the Keg do this?”

Steve laughed and something fluttered in his chest at Eddie’s pleased expression. “For the record, no, this has nothing to do with that bullshit—” Steve cut himself off, sighing heavily and tipping his head back to look up at the sky again. Nancy’s words came back to him in a rush, about the party being bullshit, him being bullshit, their love being bullshit. Steve shook his head and said, “it doesn’t matter. I did this to myself.”

“You… made yourself cry?”

“Yeah, because I’m just… bullshit, y’know?” Steve said, frowning as he idly tried to identify whatever constellations he could remember.

“Well shit, Harrington. I could’ve told you that years ago and saved you the drunken epiphany,” Eddie teased, lifting a hand to shove Steve’s shoulder lightly and knocking another proper laugh out of him.

“You’re not wrong, Munson,” he murmured with a little smile. Despite that, more tears spilled down his cheeks and he hissed, “fuck, I hate this. I just want to go home.”

“How about you just go home then?” Eddie asked as he draped his arm around the back of the bench again.

Steve sighed, rolling his eyes. “Can’t go home like this,” he replied.

Eddie tilted his head. “And… why not?” he pressed, and Steve jumped when he felt Eddie’s thumb begin to idly stroke the cap of his shoulder. 

It was a motion that seemed thoughtless, like it was just what you did when your hand was resting near someone else. It was weird for a guy to be doing that with him, and Steve knew he should probably pull away, but it felt… nice, especially with how upset he was.

“Hello? Earth to Harrington?” Eddie crooned in his ear, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Sorry, what?” Steve said, shaking his head a bit.

“I asked why you can’t go home like this,” Eddie reminded him, an eyebrow raised.

‘Because my dad might still be up.’ “I just can’t, Munson, drop it,” he finally replied, fear and shame twisting in his gut along with his heartbreak. When he returned his gaze to Eddie’s, the expression on his face was a mixture of skepticism and understanding.

Silence stretched between them, Eddie’s thumb switching from rubbing Steve’s shoulder to lightly tapping out a beat. “Want a joint?” Eddie asked suddenly, and Steve blinked at him in confusion.

“I don’t have cash on me, man,” Steve managed to say after a moment when his tipsy brain caught up. “I wasn’t planning on—”

“I’m not trying to sell you anything,” Eddie interrupted, shaking his head. “I was going to smoke one anyway. We can share.”

Steve glared suspiciously. “What’s the catch? There has to be some kind of catch,” he accused. Finally, Eddie’s mean smirk rose to his face.

“Why? Because there’d be one if you were offering?” he asked and Steve reared back a bit at that, properly angry.

“What? No! People who don’t like me generally don’t offer me free shit, Munson,” Steve bit out as he stood up to glare down at him.

Eddie glowered right back up at him, his mean smirk slipping. “I just felt bad for you. Was trying to be nice,” he said sullenly, and Steve felt a little bad for snapping at him. Only a little, though, because pity? From Eddie “The Freak” Munson? That was enough to fire him back up, even if he withered at his own unkind thoughts.

“I don’t need or want your pity, Munson,” he practically growled, hands balling into tight fists at his sides.

“Then why’re you out here crying?” Eddie snapped, his face twisted in a mean scowl.

“In here feeling sorry for yourself, Stephen?” The sound of belt snapping. “I’ll give you a real reason to cry.”

Steve swatted at an imaginary bug to disguise his flinch. Eddie was watching him with those stupid, wide brown eyes that seemed to notice and understand too much. He didn’t want to give him more ammo, more ways to get under his skin.

“Yeah, I was crying out here alone for pity,” Steve spat sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he turned around to leave. He would take his chances calming down in the forest, maybe get eaten by a Demogorgon or something. That would definitely spare him any more embarrassment.

“Harrington, wait.” A hand closed around Steve’s wrist, the grip firm enough to stop him but immediately gentled so Steve could pull away if he wanted. The cool, slender fingers and cold metal of Eddie’s rings against his wrist were grounding, kind of comforting, so Steve didn’t immediately pull away. Again, it struck Steve as something that was probably weird for two guys to be doing, but the physical touch did wonders to settle his head a bit.

“What?” Steve asked, his anger and embarrassment slowly bleeding out of him.

“I offered because I figured it might help you calm down, that’s it,” Eddie said, his big brown eyes looking up at Steve earnestly. “I do actually feel bad about you crying, because I mean it, I don’t like seeing anyone crying. And feeling bad isn’t always pity, y’know?”

Steve thought back to all the times he had insisted Jonathan share his lunches with him over the past year, always making excuses about not liking half of it or lying about eating too much breakfast. It was never out of pity that he did that. He had genuinely cared and wanted to share because he had enough to do so.

All of the anger left Steve at once, leaving him feeling hollow and exhausted. Numb. “I can’t just accept free shit from you, Munson, even if you want to pretend to share it with me,” he said after a few moments with a tired smile, then he shrugged. “That, and I can’t go home high either.”

Eddie watched him unblinkingly for several moments before he nodded slowly. “Yeah, okay. Makes sense,” he conceded, his thumb idly stroking the inside of Steve’s wrist.

The gentle touch sent goosebumps up Steve’s arm, right up the side of his neck and onto his scalp. His eyes flickered down to watch the movement, getting lost in it. There was a weird, warm weight that settled in his gut as he watched that thumb shift, each sweep making that feeling crawl up into his chest. Heat rose to his cheeks and that embarrassed fluttering returned to his chest.

Pulling his wrist away suddenly, Steve cleared his throat. “Thanks, though. For the offer,” he said, the words a bit stilted. “And I guess for getting me to stop crying after all.”

“Oh yeah, I guess I did,” Eddie laughed, and Steve was taken aback by how big his true smile was up close. How bright Eddie’s eyes lit up with it, and how deep the dimples formed in his cheeks. Steve had only ever seen that smile from across the cafeteria, and he had never had it directed at him. “How’d I manage that?”

“Being a dick, mostly,” Steve retorted, his tone teasing. The joke landed just the way he had hoped, keeping that huge grin on Eddie’s face as he laughed. The embarrassed fluttering got stronger in his gut.

“I’ll be a dick to you any day of the week, Harrington. Whenever you need it,” Eddie said, winking up at Steve when he scoffed.

“How generous of you, Munson,” Steve chuckled, rolling his eyes before taking a step backward. “See you around?”

Eddie’s grin settled into a smile. “You know it, Harrington,” he replied, spreading his arms wide along the back of the bench and tilting his head.

Steve glanced down the long line of Eddie’s body before clearing his throat. Waving awkwardly, Steve turned around and quickly left, practically jogging home.

When he got there, the house was dark and silent, his parents already in bed. No doubt he would have to deal with a lecture the next morning, but he would just get up early for a run and hopefully avoid them before he went to school. He paused in his plan, trying to do the mental math to figure out how early he would have to wake up to have time for a run and have enough time to pick Nancy up before school.

Steve abruptly stopped that train of thought; did he even have to pick her up? Should he?

The thought of showing up at her house in the morning to give her a ride to school after what she said was nauseating. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his composure if he had to be alone with her in his car which would be humiliating at best.

And what if she didn’t even remember what she said?

No, he wouldn’t be able to handle that first thing in the morning. He shouldn’t be expected to handle that first thing in the morning.

A spark of anger finally ignited inside him at that thought. 

Steve was fucked up from everything that happened last year, too. Maybe not the same way Nancy was, but his pain mattered, too, didn’t it? And yeah, maybe the way he had been dealing with it wasn’t great, but it wasn’t any worse than how Nancy was, right? It was completely reasonable to try to find some normalcy, to move on, to try to stop seeing a dead girl every time he looked at his pool, or glanced at the woods behind his house. It was reasonable and sane to just try to survive his senior year.

Steve didn’t have to feel bad for not mourning Barb or carrying the guilt of her death the same way as Nancy. He didn’t have to feel bad for being scared of the people who made them sign confidentiality paperwork while armed guards stood over them. He didn’t have to feel bad for just wanting to keep his head down, graduate high school, and get the hell out of that town.

Despite all of those self-righteous thoughts, Steve went to bed feeling sick to his stomach with his guilt and shame, thinking of all the ways he could have done better by Nancy, no matter the cost to his peace of mind.

[ NEXT ]

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[pinkrelish]

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

bestfriend!eddie x fem!reader

✶One missed call. No new messages.✶

NSFW — angst, drug/alcohol mention/use, 18+ overall for smut

chapter: 9/15 [wc: 4.8k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11

AO3

Chapter 9: A Slow Rejection

——January 1, 1986——

[One missed call. One new message.]

“Hey! It’s getting pretty late, so I thought you’d be back by now.. Call me when you get this, so I know you made it okay.”

——January 3, 1986——

[One missed call. One new message.]

“Are you back to working on Fridays? Wayne let me know you made it home safe. Uh.. Miss you and stuff. Call when you can.”

——January 12, 1986——

[Two missed calls. Two new messages.]

“Been missing you, again.. Been so long, I’m starting to forget what your voice sounds like. Ha, I know, I’m being dramatic, but yeah.. It’s really not fair Wayne’s gotten all your calls, while I pick up the ones from bill collectors. I’m sure he’s a real riot, too. Telling the same story about how he tore his thumbnail clean off in that accident at the plant, but need I remind you, I’m the one you’re supposed to be.. Oh, fuck–shit–!”

“Man, sorry about that. You ever manage to burn pasta? Anyway. What was I saying? Right! We should try scheduling calls again, so we stop missing each other. Well, I guess we’d have to talk in the first place, but you know what I mean. Hope to catch you soon, so we can work something out.”

——January 24, 1986——

[Three missed calls. Three new messages.]

“I know you’re out of town for a meet, but Goddamn, I hope you don’t mind me ranting–because–holy shit, I just dropped the biggest plot twist on the club tonight. They totally didn’t see it coming, and shit, I’ve been planning it from the start. I’ve got even more twists later in the campaign, but this one was so good.. Hey, If I fill this whole cassette, I’m sorry, babe, I’m just excited–”

——January 27, 1986——

Every part of you ached. Wincing at the smallest tasks like lacing up your boots, and zipping your winter coat. Lower back pleading with you to stop bending over to pick up your purse. Arms shaking under the strain of textbooks. Eyes burning from lack of sleep. Head spinning. Water. Food. You needed both, had time for neither. Instead, you grabbed your waitress uniform, loaded your other shoulder with your gym bag, and walked the three flights of stairs down to the parking lot.

“God fucking damnit.”

You dragged the door closed from the white abyss, and stomped up three flights of stairs, rage simmering to a boil as you remembered you left the ice scraper and shovel behind.

But as soon as you entered the hallway, you sprinted. You could hear your phone ringing.

“Hello?” you answered, disguising the nauseating hope in your voice under a layer of genuine curiosity at who would be calling at dawn, and a touch of fear in case it was bad news.

It was never bad news when it came to him.

“Hey!” The pure relief in Eddie’s exhale wrapped you in a warm hug, placed a chaste kiss on your chapped cheeks. “I finally caught you.”

Finally. God.. finally you could reconnect with him after he swept you off your feet on New Year’s Eve.

You imbued your gratefulness into your voice, trusting he’d understand the magnitude of comfort he brought you, “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for school too, Munson?”

“I’m going, I’m going,” he promised with that little laugh of his, surely grinning ear to ear, pacing around his kitchen, probably annoying Wayne. “I just had a feeling I should try calling in the morning, and hey, it worked out. Do you have time to talk?” He knew the answer as soon as he asked, hearing the pause.

“I’m sorry.” Another pause. He didn’t interrupt. “My car’s buried under snow, and I’m running late as is.”

“It snowed there?”

“Mhm..” Certainly did, and if you didn’t get a move on, your coach was going to chew you out. But the temptation to keep sharing this blip in time was too enticing. Pretending things were better. “If you were here, would you shovel the snow for me? Scrape the ice off my windows?”

Eddie’s boyish, smitten murmur tingled across your skin. “Of course I would, baby,” he spoke in a lower range, in a whisper from where his heart resided. “Wouldn’t even have to ask. I’d take care of it.”

You knew he would. He was reliable like that.

“I’d have breakfast made, too,” he said. “Probably something frozen, but! Not to brag or anything, I know the exact amount of time to microwave a burrito so the inside is cooked, but the outside isn’t soggy, nor stale.” His warmth coaxed you into joining him in laughing, but it was repressed. Hollow. Delaying the inevitable. You both knew what was coming.

Aware he was burning the spare minutes you could afford, he asked the question you dreaded answering, “Do you have time to talk later?”

Oh, Eddie. Silencing your apology before it upset him more, you explained, “I have work later. What about Wednesday?”

“I have a date booked with Jeff’s mom. They moved into a new house over the weekend, and need help fixing faulty electrical stuff in their bathrooms. His dad is out of town in Indy. How about Thursday?”

“I’m usually in the gym until 11, and I have an exam to study for the next day.. I’m really busy during the Spring semester, with competing and stuff, on top of school bullshit–exams, papers, projects, whatever–and waitressing.”

“Mm..”

“Yeah..”

“Yeah.”

Ugly silence.

He said, “Well, I’ll let you go. We can work something out some other time.”

“Of course,” you promised. “Some other time.”

——February 8, 1986——

[No missed calls. One old message.]

“Uh.. I had to convince your roommate not to answer the phone, so I could leave this, and uh.. Now I feel super cheesy, but I wanted you to have a message waiting for you when you got back from New York–and–here it is, I guess. Jessica, are you listening to this? Whatever, I wanted to say I missed you, and hope you won all golds. I know you did, because you’re the best, but I wanted to wish you all the luck in the world, regardless if you needed it or not. Think of it like you opened a chest and found a Stone of Good Luck. +1 to all your rolls.. or tumbles, I guess.. Jesus Christ, I swear I’m done being weird. Call me when you’re back. Okay, bye.”

——February 9, 1986——

You called. No answer.

——February 10, 1986——

You listened to the fourth ring on the other end, and hung up. Defeat welcomed you like an old friend. Draped its blanket over your shoulders, squeezed you tighter than the lump in your throat, and reminded you to grab your new grips for the uneven bars on your way out of your dorm. It’s not like you had time to talk, anyway. You just wanted to try.

————

Eddie sprinted from his van. He heard it, he heard it, he heard it. Trailer door was locked. Wayne wasn’t home. God. Fucking. Loose doorknob he’d meant to fix yesterday knocking his keys from his shaky hands. Hehearditheheardit. Scraping his nails on the steps. Couldn’t find the right key. No, not the gold one, the bronze. Fucking hell. The ringing stopped. Maybe he could still–

He got the door open and dialed your number faster than his tunnel vision could discern. “Pick up, pick up, pick up.”

Ringing, ringing.

It rang. It rang.

It clicked over to voicemail.

——February 12, 1986——

You took matters into your own hands.

——February 15, 1986——

“There’s a letter from your girlfriend waiting for you on your nightstand,” Wayne told him.

Eddie reminded him with a dull glare, “Not my girlfriend.” To which his uncle’s grin grew, watching his nephew fidget under the scrutiny of his curious gaze.

“It was delivered yesterday. What exactly do you call someone who sends you a Valentine’s card?”

Paling, then flushing at the suggestion, Eddie’s tongue stumbled over a half-assed response about the date being a coincidence, and disengaged from the odd twinkle in Wayne’s eye, hurrying down the hall to his room. Closing the door behind him, and locking it just in case.

The density of the card was substantial in his palm. He wanted to take his time, but his eagerness got the better of him. He ripped into the envelope and pulled out the thin letter stuffed with goodies. Beige cardstock. Crinkled along the top.

He meant to read the note first, but when he unfolded it, an abundance of riches slid to the floor, onto his dirty Reeboks. “What the..” With shame, he gathered the money first. It was no secret Wayne was throwing away the bills before Eddie could see the bright red stamps of FINAL NOTICE on them. Any time the lights went out, they would share a look from across the trailer, or a sigh if it was at night, until they flickered on due to a random outage. Things were rarely permanently cut, they made sure of that–with longer shifts at the plant, and Eddie selling weed, amps, acts of service, whatever he didn’t need–but there was always the looming threat. A voice in the back of his head when he needed to buy milk, and it had gone up another 4 cents. Morals; that’s what those voices were. Allusions of rules set by the wealthy. He bought the things he cared about, and stole the rest.

But with what you gave him..

“Damn,” he whispered, counting. Recounting. The weight of the money was comfort stacked in his dirty hands. A warm greeting after a long, cold day of working on his pregnant neighbor’s car for next to nothing. Granting him, and Wayne, the luxury of rest. It was enough to pay what they owed. Maybe more.

“Luckiest man on Earth,” he said, in reference to his sweet girl. “And you sent me..” He picked up the Polaroids and matched them to the paragraphs in the letter. One of you on a podium when you won first place overall; the picture was taken from the sidelines, far away. Another one of you competing on beam. Cute. Nice back shot of you in a leotard, too. Then..

You were at the edge of a pier overlooking the Statue of Liberty. Another girl was beside you, arms hooked around each other’s waist, having the other hand raised in the air as if you were holding the torch. The pose helped open your jean jacket, and beneath that, he saw peeking between the buttons, his Hellfire shirt.

“Sweetest girl.” He shook the picture steadily, like a nod. Gradually doing it more vigorously, until he was outright slapping it across his other fingers. “Goddamn, baby. You make me so proud.” Wearing his Dungeons and Dragons shirt out in public.

You would be a keeper, if you were his.

——February 17, 1986——

He meant to write back.

——February 22, 1986——

[One missed call. One new message.]

“.. I know it’s been a while, I’m sorry I haven’t called. Things got busy over here. Seems like when one thing goes wrong, more piles on. Did finish my book report for class, though, so you can be proud of me for that.. Yeah, miss you. Hope you’re doing okay. I don’t know if you’ve been calling and we’ve both been missing them, but Wayne hasn’t heard from you, either. You’re competing out of town today, aren’t you? Uhm.. Call when you can. And thank you for sending us money. Bye.”

——February 26, 1986——

You meant to call back.

——March 1, 1986——

Nothing really happened to trigger it, he was just sad.

Eddie sat at the kitchen table. Small and cramped with magazines and mail. He picked at a scab on his knuckle, twisted the black ring around his finger. Was tired, hungry. Quiet, and reserved from his usual personality, using all his energy yesterday to entertain Hellfire. Wayne would be back soon, he knew. The grocery store closed in 30 minutes. He just needed to occupy himself until then, but couldn’t find anything to do. New Metallica album in two days. He could listen to his bootlegs and finesse a song. But.. None of it sounded intriguing right now. Instead, his mind filled in the blanks. What were you doing on a Saturday night? Were you in your dorm? Out with friends? Working? Training? On a date–?

No. He stopped himself from fleshing out that last thought.

Tucking himself into the corner, huddling until his shoulders sagged, and drawing a knee to his chest, he grabbed the phone from above his head and dialed.

It didn’t matter if you couldn’t talk for long, he just wanted to hear your voice. Your voice would make things better. Shake him out of this cycle. These unfair consequences of being the one who could leave remnants of his heart for you to listen to at your leisure, but wasn’t afforded the same luxury. Unless you were both available, he didn’t get to hear you speak. Just ringing, ringing, ringing. Suffering ringing.

Wrapping his arm around his leg in a hug, he rested his temple on the stained wallpaper, and rocked his head back and forth, grinding his forehead into the wall. Ringing. Ringing. The same position he took when he was a boy, on the rare–very rare–occasion his mother called on his birthday, or Christmas. Mostly Christmas, that was easier for her to remember. And he sat in this exact arrangement, curled up as small as he can be, wishing the person on the other end of the line loved him.

“Just thinking of you,” he said, after swallowing the thick spit in his mouth foretelling the water in his eyes. “Miss you. Call me when you get this.” He hung up.

——March 5, 1986——

You wanted to call, but last week’s graded essay was burned onto the back of your eyelids. So much red ink.

Under the buzzing fluorescent lights of the library, you squeezed in the last of your allotted time before they closed, and forced your cramped hand to write, making it to your dorm in time to pass out.

[No missed calls. No new messages.]

——March 8, 1986——

He meant to start his letter to you. Really.

——March 10, 1986——

The quarter-sized blister on your palm you attained due to your own negligence around the flat top griddle at work burst on your fourth pull up. Fluid snaked down your forearm, cutting a stark line through the chalk. Coach would be livid if he knew you had a job. No distractions, he said. Not for champions like you.

[No missed calls. No new messages.]

——March 15, 1986——

Wayne took one look at him and sighed. He pulled Eddie’s wobbly desk chair up beside the bed, and sat facing him, lighting a cigarette. The heavy wooden box beside his nephew’s feet told him everything he needed to know.

Eddie held out his hand for Wayne’s lighter and lit the end of a joint.

“So,” his uncle started, drawing his eyes from the decades of memories stacked neatly in the keepsake box taken from the top shelf of the closet, to the Polaroids tacked onto the wall above his bed, to the worn black journals spread around the boy who laid there with his eyes on the ceiling, moping. “What’s gotten to ya, now?”

“Same old,” Eddie answered. Nonchalant, he took a drag on the joint pinched between his thumb and index, and rested his wrist on his forehead. Wayne waited patiently. And as usual, Eddie caved under the silence. “Unless she’s purposefully calling when we’re busy, she’s just.. not calling at all, and I don’t know what pisses me off more.” He shook his head. Long shakes, rolling cheek to cheek on his limp pillows. Eyes drifting closed. “I think I fucked up.”

Wayne leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs, preparing himself for a long conversation. “Why do you think that, son?”

The corner of his mouth twitched at the memory. “I promised her we’d be together forever, and she said ‘okay.’ That’s all. ‘Okay.’” He started to mock himself, “I want to be with you forever,” and shifted his pitch higher, “Okay!” Eddie stopped his theatrics, and sank to his mattress. “Jesus.”

“You seemed really happy the next morning when I came home.. Are you sure you’re not reading too much into her reaction? Maybe she was surprised, is all I’m sayin’.” Eddie didn’t give so much of an eyeroll, as it was him sliding his gaze away from Wayne, disinterested in analyzing what he’d been poring over for the past few months in solitude; as the phone calls decreased, and his loneliness worsened. “Why don’t you tell me exactly what it is you said?”

At an impasse, they inhaled their vices at the same time, and tapped them into the ashtray on Eddie’s nightstand in sync.

“Fine,” Eddie heeded, “But it’s not like I remember it verbatim.” Wayne spun his hand in encouragement to try. “It was something along the lines of.. I don’t know, man. She has these amazing opportunities lined up for her, and I told her after I graduate, I’m gonna work odd jobs, so wherever she goes, I can go with her, so we can.. you know, be together. Forever. I explicitly stated ‘forever.’ I’ll follow her forever, so we never have to be alone.”

Wayne spoke with the cigarette between his lips, “Sounds sorta stalker-like.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m just givin’ ya a hard time,” he said, after a slight laugh, and a coughing fit. His nephew seemed less amused, rubbing the back of his thumb across his forehead in a self-soothing gesture. “Was there anything else?”

Eddie burned through another fraction of his joint as he recalled that night. “She sucks at taking care of herself, so I said she needed her best friend there to look after her. Meaning me, obviously. Y’know, help keep her car functioning, make sure she gets rest so her injuries heal, cook for her because she doesn’t eat when she’s stressed. Stuff like that. I just want to be there for her, and.. Why’re you looking at me like that?”

Cigarette paused half-way to his mouth, Wayne debated with himself over which style of guidance he should take. For as long as he’d known him, Eddie was stubborn. Liked to figure things out for himself. But this? This was a little much for Wayne to sit back and watch.

“You told her that.. platonically?” he asked, a touch of astoundment at his nephew’s stupidity in his inflection.

“Yes.”

Jesus, kid. Get a clue. “And did it ever occur to you..” he drawled, waving his cigarette, “to tell her how you really felt, so you wouldn’t have to go through this? So you’d have a definite answer, whether she rejected you or not, and we could avoid all this back and forth worryin’?”

Eddie begged him to understand, “You know I can’t just.. say that to her. I mean, I said everything but that and all she could say was ‘okay.’ What if I actually told her? Made some grand confession at midnight, and kissed her? Christ, at least she still sort of talks to me.” He cut his arm across his chest. Quick, hard, and final. “No. No way am I doing that.”

Calming himself down, the joint between his fingers burned to a nub, and he spoke through the haze. “We’re finally friends again. I’m not going to jeopardize what we have by talking about my feelings.”

“Well, you’ve already lost her once, and you’re worried it’s happening again.. So, why not risk it?”

“Because now I know what it feels like for her to be a stranger.”

~~~

More words were exchanged, and many of them circled around the same subject without a resolution, but Wayne made sure to end the night on a positive note before he left for work.

He leaned over and dusted the ash from Eddie’s hair, pushing the fringe out of his face for a sincere, long moment of eye contact. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

“I hope she calls. I’m sorry, son.”

——March 16, 1986——

The red lights on your alarm clock blared 2:35AM. You rolled over, adjusted the foam cups of your headphones onto your ears, brought the quilt to your chin, and rewound the tape to play it from the beginning.

“Crashed at Rick’s last night.. Sorry if you called.”

Then, a slurred message an hour later. “M-Mm.. Miss you.. I.. Hm? I.. Damn.” A drink spilled. Music played in the background. Something recognizable in the depths of your subconscious, but too quiet to place. Eddie inhaled deep, held his breath, and resumed with a steady cadence, “Wish you were here.”

——March 19, 1986——

Black. Black. Black. Searing white.

You came to holding onto a rope, and someone’s hand gripping your shoulder, acting as your sole buoy in the sea of your dizzy spell.

“Are you okay? Don’t answer that.” Katherine’s voice cut like a snake’s tongue. She lowered you to the spring floor next to the foam pit, and released a string of infuriated whispers about miracles, and you not falling from higher up. They came muffled against the high-pitched whine in your ears, and the pounding heart beats racing blood to your face.

She had a first aid kit with her. “Hello? Do you not feel that?” You looked at your hands. A cold flash of sweat prickled your skin. Nausea rose. The bleeding wasn’t bad, but it did leave a streaking trail on the last few feet of knotted rope dangling beside you.

At least Coach was in his office while the rest of you did your conditioning, so he didn’t see.

You rubbed your knuckles into your brow bone. “I think those caffeine pills caught up with me,” you muttered. Kat sucked her teeth, and handed you what you needed to patch up your torn calluses.

“I wish you’d stop taking those and give yourself a break. Rest isn’t a punishment.”

You may not have known her long, but she was the first friend you made, and her disappointed voice struck you in a way your Coach’s didn’t. Kat understood. She had a similar upbringing to you, and could relate. She also worked at the diner, and you helped cover for each other when other girls asked why you couldn’t make it to their bonding nights out.

And being vulnerable with her meant she knew intimate details of your life no one else did, and you were beginning to regret it.

Not really. But it sucked when she knew she was right.

“I can’t take a break now,” you mumbled, surveying the rest of the gym to make sure your conversation was private. “I’ve gotta study for next week. Gotta go to work. Gotta make money. Gotta–gotta–” You moved your hands erratically, drying the sharp sting of rubbing alcohol on your palms. “Gotta live up to everyone’s expectations.”

“Why not at least cut your hours at work? I know you don’t need the money that bad right now.”

“No.. But he does.”

The exasperated sigh Kat released grazed your cheek. She placed the first aid kit in her lap, and shifted closer to you. The side of her thigh squished against yours, and you wondered if anyone else on Earth would have stopped breathing at the small sign of affection. If anyone else’s eyes welled with tears at what others took for granted.

Kat’s tone went gentle, “You’re killing yourself over a guy who will never commit. You deserve better than that. Why not try going out with Roger again? You already know he likes you.” She bumped your shoulder and tipped her head at the group of sweaty guys standing under the rings. Most notably the stand-out amongst the men’s team jumping and grasping the apparatus, hoisting himself up for minute-long holds in poses that had your abs burning in empathy.

Roger was nice. His smile was nice. His short, sandy blonde hair was nice. Your date with him at the Italian restaurant in town was nice. He paid for the meal, which was nice. His eyes crinkled when he laughed at your bad jokes in a nice way. He made it a point to walk you to your dorm at night, like a nice man. He spoke to you nicely. He hugged you tight, and long. And when you made your intentions clear, he accepted you didn’t want a kiss, and left like a gentleman, without complaint. Nice. He was nice.

“You didn’t hear the way Eddie said–” the most romantic thing anyone had ever promised you.

“He called you his best friend.” She took over bandaging for you, turning her body to block the others from seeing the tears run down your cheeks. “He doesn’t love you like you want, and you’re starting to worry me. Well.. You’ve been worrying me. You need to take care of yourself, first. Coach might turn a blind eye because you’re still able to compete, but I see the way the stress has been eating away at you.” An opportune moment for your stomach to growl. “And I love you, and I want better for you than some guy who’s not into you, taking advantage of your kindness.”

“Eddie’s not like that. He’s different..” you offered meekly. “You don’t know him like I do.”

“Just.. consider going out with Roger again. Pay attention to the date. How he treats you, what he says. Maybe compare him to Eddie, and see what I mean.”

Done patching you up, Kat tossed the first aid kit to the side while you chalked your hands over the bowl, not caring the white powder clung to the wet smears on your face. She opened her mouth when you grabbed the rope again, fists on her hips not unlike a mother who actually cared for her children.

“You’re going to get hurt,” she said.

You put your weight on the rope. Your open flesh wrung against the fiber, padded by a few layers of athletic tape rapidly losing their adhesive from the blooming blood soaking through. The pain stung deep. Not enough for you to quit. You could persevere. Climb up to the rafters of the gym, and back down again without rest two more times, as Coach instructed. You could remain calm. Focus on the task, finish it, and still read your textbook until the crack of dawn, and go in for a quick morning shift at the diner before your afternoon class. You could do it all. You could. You could do it all if it meant securing a future for you, and for Eddie.

You replied, “Maybe I will.. But it’ll be worth it.”

Kat waited until you were half-way up to question, “Will it?”

——March 21, 1986——

If Eddie answered, you wouldn’t go out with Roger. That was the deal.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” you whispered with your head resting against the doorway to the back of the diner. The two line cooks gave you sympathetic looks. “Pick up,” you pleaded with a bite of anger.

You hung up.

Dialed again.

“Come on, Eddie..”

When he didn’t answer, you let Kat embrace you in the walk-in cooler, blotting your tears on her brown uniform shirt, and she listened to you sob about how not only had the phone calls stopped, Eddie had stopped calling you by pet names long before that.

————

Roger was soft. His grin was soft. His hair was soft, brushing across your forehead. The callus on his thumb was smooth, soft as he traced your bottom lip. The back of his fingers were soft as he caressed them over your cheek. His lips were soft, too. Placing them gently on the corner of yours after you turned away at the last second.

His voice was soft. “You don’t like me, do you?”

“I’m sorry..” You struggled to say more. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” he said, and left. Softly spoken through the rejection, and accepting it like the nice man he was, not coercing you into more.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, long after Roger walked away. You went inside your dorm, and did the thing you always did, pressing the blinking light on your answering machine, noticing the cassette through the plastic window hadn’t moved.

[One missed call. No new messages.]

Oh.

He’d never not left a message before..

——March 22, 1986——

You awoke with a start. “Wha–?” Your bloodshot eyes refused to open under the disturbing amount of daylight streaming through your window. What was that noise? Was the phone ringing? 

The phone was most definitely ringing.

Answering under the grog of not knowing when you went to sleep, nor what day it was, you said the first thing that came to mind, “Eddie?” You winced, and jerked the phone away, taking a moment to place the loud, exuberant–panicked–voice on the other side. “..Dustin?”

Taglist: @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @myfavoritesareproblematic @henhouse-horrors @tlclick73 @sidthedollface2 @i-will-duckyou-up @qnsfwthoughts @captainonaboat @eddiemuns0nl0ver @godcreatoreli @harrys-tittie @eg-dr3amer3 @trixyvix88 @venomsvl @lacrymosa-24 @sashaphantomhive @sharp-and-swift @emokid-ellie @mantorokk-writes @drdvlss @mirrorsstuff @bebe0701 @eddiethesexy @edsforehead @b-irock @brittney69 @princesseddie @hes-a-rainbow @churchmuffins @barbielibra 

[mazzystar24]

how would having buck/eddie be more powerful?? yeah i get that having a queer latino man would be awesome (and i support whatever direction they want to go in w eddie’s sexuality bc i think there’s a lot of options there) but it’s kind of embarrassing that people are making buck’s entire coming out about a ship. a bisexual man coming out in later life has his queer realisation with someone who also came out in later life, they’re both in a line of work that’s pretty “boys club”-esque (as shown by hen and chimney begins episodes, and it’s a shame that hen’s queer identity isn’t recognised enough in the fandom). Buck’s storyline is just as meaningful with or without an endgame of buddie. Tbh I hope they make eddie queer as well but don’t put buddie together because the only way they get together without violating workplace relationship rules is if one of them leaves, which is arguably less meaningful because we lose a main character. Sorry if this comes off as rude but y’all have had your shipping brains on for too long because you can’t recognise how much this means to bisexual fans and it’s honestly exhausting.

Okay gonna address that bottom part first just to clarify real quick that I am in fact a bisexual fan 🫡 so that assumption was 😐

As for the rest:

If you look on my page or my previous asks or anything you’d see that I’m over the moon ecstatic over finally getting bi buck

At no point did I make buck being bi just about his ships, in almost every ask about bucktommy or buddie me and most of the anons are constantly reiterating how much we value canon bi buck even if it wasn’t EXACTLY how we wanted it

At no point in any of my previous posts nor in the ask response that I’m assuming you sent this ask about did I imply that bucks coming out arc is of more value when connected to buddie

The post/ask was about bucktommy as endgame or buddie as endgame and my opinion on it and my opinion is that it would be more powerful and meaningful to have buddie

To answer your question on why- buddie yes have a lot of in common with bucktommy but the thing that makes it for me is that

1. Queer slowburns done right are practically unheard of in the media

2. As you’ve touched on yeah Eddie is a Latino man but also we got to see Eddie grow as a person get into therapy, deal with his issues with his father and being a man of the house, be a widow and raise a son

Can you name a single character who we see on screen go from this all American soldier perfect boy to seeing him breakdown, get therapy understand comp het, fall in love with his best friend and navigate how he balances coming out in his 30s while having very mixed and complicated feelings about his dead wife who I genuinely believe he loved in some way but also having to come out to his son who is bound to have his own complicated feelings about it?

3. We’ve had so much history and so many powerful scenes between these two that to me and many of the fandom nothing can measure up to, like if they do become canon like it would mean a lot because their story and scenes over the years have been so amazing and powerful

4. Theyd be listening to what the fans want/have wanted for years!! That’s huge because so many shows never make characters queer because the fans saw them as it or shipped them and when on those rare occasions they do they take the easy way out and make one half of them queer to get fans to shut up (cough cough a certain cw show)

Also I never trashed on bucktommy because I don’t ick someones yum all I said is i agree and I don’t get those who want them to be endgame and I do make jokes about my own shipping goggles but seriously I am self aware and I do keep being VERY conscious that some may misunderstand me as not valuing bi buck just because we didn’t get buddie when that couldn’t be further from the truth

[waterless-witch]

Of knights and Demons

Chapter 3

TW: Rape/Non-con, Dark themes, forced marriages, threatening behavior violence and swearing. MINORS DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU

This is my first ever fic so please be nice to me, I’ve also got it posted on A03 under the same name in case anybody would like to read it there.

EDIT: this chapter contains non-con smut and I’ve never written either of those so if it’s terrible I’m sorry

Previous Chapter

You are the sole daughter of Byakuya Kuchiki, the sole heir to a noble family. Your father has broken from tradition with his refusal to marry you off against your wishes, instead wishing for you to find a husband of your own choosing. After years of arguing with not only your own family, but the other lords of your court all seems well. That is until a once thought dead knight returns with an army to take your home.

Souske Aizen, a man you once found kindness in has demanded that the two of you are to be wed, with your father still missing along with most of the guards you’re left with few options but to comply and hope that aid comes before anything can be set. How will you stop a man like Aizen from destroying your home and the people you care about? And who are these strange people with bone masks on their face?

You’d been taken back to the manor with your new husband to partake in your wedding celebration. For hours now you watched people laugh and dance, feast and drink without a care in the world. It made you sick. Aizen, for his part, played the doting husband well. He kept his arm draped casually over your hip, thumb rubbing what were supposed to be soothing circles into your skin. In the small breaks you’d get in between people coming to congratulate you two he would ask if you needed anything, you’d politely decline each time. You couldn’t even count how many times he’d bent down to give your forehead a small kiss. From the outside you were certain you’d looked just like a happy couple.

Eventually Aizen’s associate, Gin, came up to congratulate the two of you. You thanked him politely trying your best not to let your hatred for the whole affair show. After a few more minutes of small talk with the silver haired man he asked if he could borrow your husband to address a private matter. You obliged, happy to have his hands off you, even if it’d just be a few short minutes. Almost immediately after he’d walked away someone approached from the other side of you. You turned to greet them in the same facetious way you had everyone else but stopped.

Before you stood your friend Momo, she wore a fine pastel blue dress with her hair done up in its standard bun. Her family was one of the smaller, lesser known ones of your court but the two of you had been close friends since childhood. Your mother would often invite her to various occasions with you, she came from a large family and was mostly ignored so no one ever seemed to mind. She didn’t smile at you, instead her eyes looked misted like she might cry, “Hi.” She said simply with a touch of sadness to her.

You smiled at her, a genuine one, even though you felt like you might too cry just from looking at her. “Hi.” You answered back, you were so relieved that she didn’t seem to be happy for you, she understood what was happening, pitied you even.

“I’d offer to give you a hug but I don’t think you want to draw that kind of attention.” She joked, giving you a sad smile back. You nodded back to her, “For what it's worth, I’m sorry.” She said in all but a whisper, eyes darting back and forth to make sure no one had heard her. Your eyes misted a bit more as she’d said it and you tried your hardest to hold it all back not wanting to cry here. You’d been numb for so long but something about seeing your friend upset for you brought it all back and made it much more real for you.

You went to answer back but another lord was approaching, she gave you a slight nod before excusing herself. You whipped your eyes quickly hoping that the lord hadn’t noticed. You recognized him, though you couldn’t quite recall his name. He was from one of the smaller families and had all but begged your father to marry you off to his son when you were thirteen. Of course your father had refused. You gave him a sweet smile as he approached and grabbed your hands. “May I just start by saying-“

“Get lost.” Grimmjow interrupted from behind you causing you to whirl around sharply. He didn’t look at you, instead his venomous gaze was fixated on the smaller of the two men. If looks could kill the man would be dead ten times over with how Grimmjow looked at him.

The lord stuttered for a minute, face heating in embarrassment and anger, “Excuse you, I am-“ he started to say. A few people looked but turned away quickly to keep Grimmjow’s attention away from them.

“I said get lost,” Grimmjow growled out, “I won’t ask a third time.” He said taking an intimidating step towards the man. The man's eyes shot between the two of you before he scoft and left, grumbling under his breath the whole way. You turned to face him fully and raised a single brow in question. He shrugged, “Brought you a drink.” He said dryly, nodding to an overly full glass of wine. “For your special day.” He sneered like he was mad at you, you didn’t care if he was, you were already mad at the world why not add him to the list as well.

You crossed your arms in front of you, “I don’t drink.” You bit back just as dry. Lots of people drank at weddings and if you had been in a happier situation perhaps you would have too but today you didn’t feel like it. You were not a drinker under normal circumstances and certainly didn’t want to take anything from the strange man in front of you.

“Congrats, you do today.” He answered back to you with irritation heavy in his tone. You had no idea why he wanted you to drink so bad but it made you trust him all the less. You looked at him with a sideways gaze.

You shook your head, “Why is it so important to you? Or is it just another game to you? See what you can get me to do by being pushy? Make some entertainment for yourself?” You said getting annoyed with him.

“No games, I’m trying to be nice to you.” He said before reaching out and grabbing your elbow harshly. He pulled you a bit closer and kept his grip on your arm tight even as you tried to pull away, “Take the wine and get drunk, I’ll bring you more when you're out.” He whispered harshly in your ear, his body bent over yours, “I can guarantee you're not gonna want to be sober when your dear sweet husband holds you down and shoves his cock in you.” He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. He was right, as much as you hated to admit it and as vulgar as he’d said it he was right. Your eyes again watered, not wanting to have to go through with it, you knew you’d have to but that didn’t stop you from feeling sorry for yourself. “Don’t cry here,” he said as he straightened back out. “Don’t give them all the chance to see you break. Cry tonight as he fucks you, or alone in the morning or anywhere else but do not give all these bastards a chance to see it, they don’t deserve it.” He said angrily. You nodded, you didn’t know why he was doing what he was but you were thankful for it still.

You willed your tears back and he offered you the wine again. You took it from him gingerly, fingers brushing over his own as you did.”Thank you.” You said to him more earnestly than you’d ever spoken to him. He could be an ass but at that moment he was showing you something close to kindness.

He kept his gaze fixated on you in what almost looked like confusion for what felt like an eternity before he scoffed, “Don’t thank me princess.” He stood there until you took a drink and nodded his approval before he walked away. True to his word, once you'd finished your glass he quietly brought you another as you talked to the various people who’d come to speak with you. You weren’t too invested in any conversation, too busy thinking over what Grimmjow had said. Of course you’d known that Aizen would have you tonight but now that it’d been said out loud you couldn’t help but worry about it. You’d never been with a man, not even to fool around. Some of the married women had talked about their own wedding nights, and while some of them had pleasant stories, most of them only talked about how much the first time hurt and how rough their husbands had been, the thought alone brought a shiver down your spine.

Grimmjow had brought you a third glass before Aizen returned, looping his arm back around your waist. “Sorry to be away for so long love,” he called you, you didn’t say anything but you despised that pet name more than any other that you’d been called, you were not his love and he was not yours. “Have you been enjoying yourself?” He asked, beginning to rub those damned circles into your hip again. You hummed your agreement and he tsked his tongue, “No you haven’t, you hide it well enough but you're miserable.” You stared up at him not knowing what to say or what he wanted you to say. “Take a walk with me?” He asked, letting that smile that you were growing to hate grace his face again. You agreed not really having a choice in the matter.

He led you through the crowd, you hadn’t realized how much the alcohol had affected you until you began walking, you moved considerably slower with your eyes more focused on where you were going rather than ahead of you. If Aizen noticed your uncordnation he didn’t say anything about it. You found yourself in the gardens as the cold air bit at your skin, not that you cared all that much, feeling a bit of relief compared to the stuffy hall you’d been in for hours. “Would you like to know what I’ve been talking about with the other lords?” He asked.

You thought about your answer for a long moment, he didn’t like it when you lied to him and wanted you to be honest with him but the truth of it was no. You didn’t want to know. He would tell you anyway and maybe his asking was just a taunt. So that’s what you answered with, “Not particularly but I have a feeling you're going to tell me no matter how I answer.” You said with more spitefulness than you intended.

Aizen chuckled, “Well, don’t you just have me figured out?” He joked, you didn’t laugh. “We’ve been talking about you all evening. Most have congratulated me kindly, but more than a few have also expressed that they’d do the same.” He said, you knew he was taunting you, maybe trying to get a rise out of you but you still held his breath as he talked. “One young man in particular, told me that he was impressed by my restraint.” Your brows knit together and he gave another small chuckle, “He said if it had been him he wouldn’t have been able to hold off on taking you,” Your face drained of color and your eyes felt like they would bulge out of your head as he went on. “He informed me that he’d tried desperately for your hand but your father had denied him and you didn’t notice him at all. The poor boy.” He mocked in fake sympathy, “You should see how they all stare at you, where their eyes focus in on when your not looking, if only you knew what dark things they thought of-“

“Why tell me all this?” You cut him off before he could continue, you knew they were all traitors but you didn’t want to think about how many men in there would do the same or worse to you given the chance. You didn’t want to think about a man that was so upset that you’d not wanted to wed him as a child of thirteen that he thought you deserved this.

“I want you to think of it when you despair about your position, when you start to think I’ve been cruel to you.” The two of you stopped walking and he pulled your chin up to look at him, bringing his face close to yours, “Anyone of them would have done the same if not worse.” He whispered so close that you could feel his lips caress your own as he spoke, you were certain that he was about to kiss you again but he never did. Instead he pulled back, “We should get you inside before you freeze out here.” He said letting that sickly sweet smile frame his face again.

Back inside you noticed that a number of people must have left during your stroll, a noticeable number. You could feel your anxiety starting to pick up, he hadn’t mentioned anything about a bedding ceremony but now it was all you could think about and you had no way of being certain. You thought about asking him but decided against it, fearing that he might just do it if he thought you were afraid of it. As you gazed around the room you noticed Grimmjow sitting alone near the back of the tables, his eyes stared into yours for a moment before you were distracted by yet another person coming to talk to the two of you about what a lovely couple you made. The whole time you could all but feel Grimmjow's eyes staring at you which didn’t help settle any of your anxiety. You kept catching his gaze in between chats. He barley moved and you couldn’t help but feel like you were being hunted.

As time stretched on more and more people began to leave, everytime they did that uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach only grew. Eventually Aizen bent down to whisper, “I think its time we take our leave my dear.” Your breath caught and you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything as he gently led you to the hall. Your heart felt like it might beat straight out of your chest with each step you took. He kept his hold on you the whole time. At least, no one followed you out, meaning that there would be no bedding ceremony. At least no one would get to observe the humiliation you’d no doubt receive. “You look relived?” He said voice trailing in question. Your legs felt like they were made of lead and every step you took was a considerable effort.

“I thought that perhaps you’d have opted for a bedding ceremony but…” you let yourself trail off, he just hummed in understanding. You were at the door to your room far faster than you’d have liked. He held the door open for you and you stepped inside making your way to the center of the room, you stopped not knowing what to do with yourself. The door swung shut and you couldn’t help but flinch. You were terrified of the man you’d be sharing a life with, while you’d once thought him kind you’d come to find out he was anything but. He’d killed a whole family to get here plus countless others, he sent people to hunt you down specifically and he’d threaten to take another life if you didn’t do as he said.

A set of arms snaked around your waist causing you to gasp, “Are you nervous sweet girl?” Aizen rasped into your ear. You nodded yes but he just hummed as if he didn’t understand you, “I’m sorry love, I didn’t quite catch that, you’ll have to speak up.” You closed your eyes and you were sure your whole body must be beat red.

He knew you were and he was just trying to get under your skin. “Y-yes.” You said barely audible but he’d heard it nonetheless. He gently pushed the hair from your shoulder and began trailing small kisses from the exposed skin of your shoulder to the base of your neck. You flinched but he held you firmly in place with a hand on your hip, “Have you ever been touched like this?” He asked, his voice had dropped by at least an octave and was laced thick with arousal.

“No.” You gasped out as he nibbled at the space where your neck and shoulder met. Aizen hummed in satisfaction as one of his arms rose to just below your sternum, forcing you back into his own broad chest. He had you trapped up against himself in a hold that you had no way of escaping.

You swallowed thickly as his lips trailed up your neck to your ear, “Never?” He asked, warm breath fanning your ear. “Not even with that fetching young knight with the tattoos that was so keen on escaping with you? He seemed very intent on keeping you away from me.” You squeezed your eyes shut tighter and shook your head lightly. You realized he was talking about Renji, and while he’d help you escape you doubted he felt anything of the sort for you, he’d only helped you because he’d always felt indebted to your father. You could explain all that to him though, not while his mouth was still working against your neck and he held you so close to himself. “Words my sweet girl, I want to hear you.” He rasped intent on flustering you further.

You opened your mouth to say something only to be cut off by a sharp gasp as he pulled your head back to suck a mark into your neck. You tried to escape it but his free hand shot to your hip pulling you back against him tighter than before, stopping you from moving any distance. “No, never!” You all but whined out as his mouth kept working over your skin. You hated whatever game he was playing and you hated how you couldn’t help but react to it.

Aizen pulled back a few inches to admire the mark he’d left before chuckling darkly, “Aren’t you just a dream dear?” He asked before spinning you to face him. He pulled you close and captured your lips as your hands came up to try to put some distance between your bodies yet again. He kissed you with much more force than the previous times, his hand came up to tangle in your hair and pull you closer, his other hand snaked behind your back. He pulled back for you but kept your head firmly in place with his hand, “Open your mouth.” He ordered in a husked voice. You went to question him on what he’d meant but before you could his lips were again pressed to yours. His tongue pushed its way into your mouth and began tangling with your own. You couldn’t stop the whimper that left you, he pressed you closer, seeming to enjoy that he’d pulled any kind of noise from you at all.

The hand pressed to you back slid lower, reaching for the clasp of your metal belt and fumbling with it until it noisily clattered to the floor. You dress hung loosely around you now and bunched up under his hand as me moved it back to your hip. His tongue was still mapping out your mouth, making you feel lightheaded. He pulled away from you and looked you up and down as you panted. His hands moved to your shoulders aiming no doubt to fully remove your dress. Your hands caught his wrists not wanting him to continue, you realized your mistake instantly but couldn’t stop yourself.

Aizen's deep brown eyes shot to yours, he softened his gaze and tsked his tongue, you averted your gaze and let your hands slip off his wrists. “Sweet girl,” He called to you softly, “If you move to stop me again I’ll bring you your little knight's head.” You couldn’t stop the little cry of surprise that left you as tears sprang to your eyes. You looked back up to him as your tears collected in your waterline. “You poor thing,” he said bringing his hand to brush along your cheek, “You really don’t want this do you?” He asked, whipping at a tear as it fell down your face.

You knew he was just taunting you, you knew he wasn’t going to stop but you still shook your head in denial. Surprisingly he didn’t make you say it out loud, he just hummed sympathetically, looking at you with a tilted head. “How unfortunate.” He said before moving his hands back to your dress. He carefully pulled the fabric from you, letting it fall to the floor in a heap and leaving you in just your heels and undergarments. You turned your head to the side, unable to look at him any longer as his eyes raked over you, he hummed in appreciation taking in your lace strapless bralette and matching underwear that you’d been made to wear. The lace hid nothing from him, thin and see through with the same flowers and vines that had adorned your dress. A few more tears slipped from your eyes as he began walking you backwards towards the bed. Once the backs of your legs hit the bed he gently pushed you so the you were sitting on the edge of it, he tilted your head up to look at him.

He bent over you fully and kissed you again, this time as he ravaged your mouth it tasted of salt from your tear streaked face. His hand ghosted down your body to your thigh, he gave your thigh a light squeeze before sliding his hand further down to push your shoe off before repeating the motion with the other leg. He let his hand run lazily up and down your leg as he continued kissing you, everytime his hand would work up your thighs your muscles would flutter and heat began pooling in your lower stomach much to your displeasure. You hated that your body was reacting to him wanting desperately for it to stop.

Aizen released your mouth, straightening up to his full height, “Move to the center of the bed.” He nodded watching you move all the while. Once centered in the bed you pulled your legs together keeping them pressed firmly against one another. Aizen began removing his shirt button by button revealing his well muscled arms and chiseled chest. He removed his belt next, placing the sword attached to it gently on the dresser before stalking back to you. You couldn’t help but think that perhaps if he’d never left, if he’d never done any of the atrocious things he’d done, that you might have ended up here anyways. You couldn’t deny that he was handsome and even though you now knew his attention went much deeper he’d always made time for you before. He’d seemed sweet and caring. But now that you knew everything, what he was capable of, there would be no looking back, you couldn’t look past it. You would never forgive him for all that he’d done to the high lord's family and the common people, they had been innocent and he’d slain them for his own selfish interest. You thought of the girl you’d seen the first night, she’d bear that scar forever for simply doing her duties that day.

Aizen crawled over you, pulling you from you from your thoughts and pushing your back into the mattress as leaned into you. He pulled your legs straight and you kept them firmly pressed together as he again mouthed at your neck. You closed your eyes as he sucked more marks into your skin, his mouth trailed down your neck and to your collarbone where he nibbled at the bone. You gasped, causing him to chuckle as he let his hand run across your stomach, his fingers thumbed at the bottom of your bralette. You tried to focus on your breathing as he let his hand glide over your breast, you let out a breathy sigh and turned your head away from his as his thumb circled your clothed nipple. Aizen rose up on his elbow as he continued his ministrations, “You look absolutely sinful like this.” He stated. You fisted your hand in the blankets beneath you. He switched his attention to your other breast making you swallow a cut off moan which caused him to chuckle again. “I want to hear you, love.” He breathed into your ear, you bit down on the inside of your cheek not wanting to give him the satisfaction. You might not be able to stop him from doing what he wanted with you but you could try to at least control the noises you made. Or so you thought.

After a minute or so of you refusing to make any noise he dropped his head back to your neck and sunk his teeth into your pulse point. You shrieked, eyes shooting open and tears following in earnest as your back arched off the bed trying to get him to let go, his hand moved from your chest to your arched back and unclasped your bralette, throwing it behind him. He released your neck and soothed over the wound with his tongue as he settled you back on the mattress. Your neck throbbed and you felt a drop of blood run down your neck before he leaned back over to licked it up and place a quick peck to your throbbing skin. Aizen’s mouth trailed from your pulse point down to your breast, he looked up to you as you panted breathlessly trying to pull yourself together before flicking your nipple with his tongue, you couldn’t stifle the moan that slipped out of you which only spurred him on. He took your nipple into his mouth fully, lavishing his tongue over the sensitive nub and occasionally nipping gently with his teeth to watch your reactions. He pulled off with a pop before switching his attention to your other nipple and teasing the one he’d had in his mouth between his fingers. Catching your breath was an impossible task, your heartbeat was so fast you thought it might burst and your core ached between your locked thighs.

He again let you go with a pop, “You’re so much more reactive than I could have hoped for, I can’t wait to see what more you’ll show me sweet girl.” He rasped, rising to his knees and running his hands up your legs. “I understand you’ve never been touched by another man, but tell me love, have you at least touched yourself? Brought yourself to release on your fingers perhaps?” You gawked at his question, truthfully you had tried a few times but never could bring yourself anywhere near pleasurable, but you certainly didn’t want him to know that. “Well, love?” He asked again when you didn’t answer.

You knew he wasn’t going to let you get away with not answering and you were sure you didn’t want him to bite you again or something else equally as painful. You took in a shaky breath before saying, “I’ve tried but never been able to…” you trailed off not wanting to finish your sentence in embarrassment.

His hands made their way back up your legs before hooking in the sides of your underwear, “You poor sweet thing, I’ll have to remedy that.” He gently pulled them down, they caught on your knees for a second but you separated your legs just enough for him to toss them behind him to join the rest of your clothing. You were now completely nude for him, “Spread your legs for me love.” He didn’t give you a chance to comply as his large hands pulled your knees apart. He looked at you with lidded eyes causing you to look away before he brought his hand to ghost over your folds, he groaned at the wetness he found between your legs. “For a girl that insists she doesn't want this, you certainly are wet my dear.” His thumb begins rubbing tight circles against your clit causing your toes to curl and small breathy gasps to find their way out of your mouth.

It feels like there’s a knot being pulled tighter and tighter in your lower abdomen, your sounds rise in volume and Aizen moves the hand not occupied to grab your face and force you to look at him, “Look at me while you cum.” He growled lowly, thumb increasing in speed and pressure. It feels like you're going to snap apart and you look up at him through glassy eyes. His gaze is intense as your end draws closer and you can’t help but buck your hips against his hand. All at once the knot inside you snaps and you coming with a whiny moan as your back arches and stars dot your vision. You’ve never felt anything like it and you can’t help but shutter through the aftershocks.

His hand doesn’t stop moving, instead slowing to a lazy pace that has you trying to escape from overstimulation, his hand grabs your hip and pins you back down. “Please! It’s too much, I can’t take it!” You cry out, body on fire. After a few more strokes his hand stops and he swoops down to dominate you with another kiss. You're so overwhelmed by your previous orgasm that you just let him do as he pleases.

The two of you separate and he watches your face for a moment before pulling back fully, “Now that was a sight, perhaps I should have had a bedding ceremony, show all those stuck up lordlings what they’ve missed out on.” He mocks as he rises from the bed to kick his pants and underwear off. You’ve never seen a nude man before but you're sure that his cock is bigger than most. It’s long and thick with a few veins jutting up it and you can’t help but stare with wide eyes. There’s no way you’re ever going to get it inside of you, at least not without pain.

You don’t even notice that he’s watching you until he laughs, making your eyes shoot to his face as your own face heats more in embarrassment. “Don’t worry sweet girl, I’ll have you well prepared.” He said as he makes his way back to you. You don’t quite believe him but there’s not much you can do as he climbs back on top of you, he spreads your legs on either side of his own. You swallow thickly as he again mouths at your neck and his hand returns to your slick folds. His middle finger circles you opening and you feel your anxiety pick up, his hand is a lot bigger than your own and even then you’d never done much with your own fingers. He gets his finger nice and wet before he starts to push it inside you.

Instantly your gummy walls clamp down on it, the stretch isn’t pleasant and it stings a bit. Your breathing picks up and his thumb resumes its slow circles on your clit in an attempt to force you to relax. He gets the digit into the last knuckle and stills its movement as his thumb continues. He licks up your neck to nibble on your ear, “That’s it sweet girl, just like that. Relax and take it.” He rasps as he gently pulls his finger back and forth within you. You whine at the strange feeling and he latches back onto your neck. After letting you adjust to his first finger he pushes in a second one. You try to pull away and groan because it burns, his thumb and fingers move at a steady pace and you can’t help but clench around them trying to get him to stop for a moment.

He groans in your ear, “Fuck,” he curses, “You’re so tight love.” More tears slip from your eyes as he continues his movements. You wish he’d stop talking but of course he doesn’t. “You have to relax for me love.” He breathes into your neck. “How can you ever hope to take my cock if you can’t take two fingers?” He laughs. You want to scream at him that you don’t want to take his cock and you want to push him and beg him to stop but you know it won’t do you any good. You try to focus on your breathing again but he starts hooking his fingers and they brush against something inside you that has you letting out another high pitched whine. He smiles at you and continues thrusting his fingers into you, taking care to hit that spot inside you with every stroke. You’re withering underneath him as he adds a third, it still hurts but he keeps hitting that spot over and over again causing you to lose yourself.

Your walls tighten again as that knot builds back up. Aizen speeds up his moments, “Again?” He asks, “Already that close? Just from my fingers?” He rumbles. Your fists are so tangled in the blankets you fear they might tear apart. Between his fingers hitting that sweet spot inside of you and his thumb rubbing those circles into your clit you're coming within seconds of him whispering. You whimper as he pulls his fingers from you, you watch as he brings them to his mouth before licking them clean. “What a delicacy.” He says eyes meeting your tired ones, “Maybe if you’re a good girl for me I’ll feast on you next time.” He offers as he aligns himself with you.

He pulls you further down the bed, hair fanning out behind you and legs coming to rest across his knees. He moves his hips, grinding his cock to you, using your slick to get himself ready to enter you. Once he deems himself lubricated enough he lines his cock up with your hole. You feel the tip begin to push into you and you expect him to go slow like he had with his fingers but he doesn’t instead he snaps his hips to yours and fills you in one fluid motion. You scream, pain filling you immediately as you try to scoot away. He pulls you back down refusing to let you escape.

He wastes no time before picking up a punishing pace that makes you sob underneath him. You feel like you can’t breathe and you move to try and push him away, clawing at him with your nails but he just grabs your wrist and pins it to the bed above your head. He folds over you and uses his free hand to push one of your legs up near your head, folding you in half. “Gods!” He moans, “You’re such a tight fit!” He smiles darkly at you before picking up speed. You can’t think straight but you know that you're begging him to stop in broken cries which only seems to turn him on more. “You’re taking me beautifully love, like you were made for it.” He groans. The only sounds filling the room are the sound of skin hitting skin, your cries and his groans.

His thrusts eventually start loosing rhythm and he grunts a few times, “Fuck, I’m close,” he moans out still rapidly snapping his hips into yours. He releases his hold on your wrist and leg and brings both of his hands to your hips to pull you back into him as he thrusts into you, he’s gripping you so hard you're sure to have bruises. He moans your name before trusting as deep as he can and stilling, you feel his seed fill you up and he gives a few shallow thrusts before pulling out completely. Your breathing is shaky and you're still crying as he watches his cum drip out of you. He collects what’s leaked from you before fucking it back into you with his finger. You gasp and close your legs which makes him chuckle as he pulls away from you. “Just making sure nothing goes to waste love.” He says looking down at you.

All you can think is that you hate him. You hate him for what he’s done to your people but as you lay there broken, used and crying all you can think of is how you hate him for what he’s done to you. How he turned your body completely against you. How he’d threatened you. How he’d used you. You look at him through glassy eyes and say, “You’re a bastard.” Not caring about the consequences, what more could he take from you now?

He just laughs, watching your chest heave, “Yeah, I am, sweet girl.” He says before pulling you to him, he pulls you and himself up to lay against the pillows and settling the two of you beneath the covers. “Now sleep my love, before I change my mind and decide to take you again.” He says stroking your hair. You’re too tired to put up a fight and wouldn’t want to chance him anyways.

[starlostastronaut]

DAY 07 | BUT A TROUBLEMAKER GIRL

PAIRING: seo changbin x reader

GENRE: crack, fluff

WC: 0.76k

CW: attempt at humour, playful banter/insults (they're besties so its fine haha)

PROMPT: "your hand looks heavy, can i hold it for you?"

i picked out the prompt and my first thought was "from how many things can i make fun of?" lol. so this is where it ended. i honestly have no explanations for this, so just enjoy haha <3

title from troublemaker - olly murs

general masterlist here

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"Your hand looks heavy, can I hold it for you?”

You almost choked on your drink when you heard that. When your cough had eased enough for you to be able to speak, you managed to get out a strained “What?” before you launched into another fit, though this time it was a laugh.

“Have you calmed down now?” Changbin grumbled after having to listen to your laugh for another few minutes. If you were to ask him, he would swear the last two minutes were only pretended, because no human could possibly laugh for that long.

“I’m sorryyy Binnie,” you said, wiping imaginary tears from your face. However, upon seeing his unpleasant expression, you straightened your back and stopped the charade. "Yeah, I’m done. Sorry,” you muttered, this time truly meaning it. You didn’t think he took it that seriously, but apparently he did after all, which made you feel genuinely sorry. Sometimes you would simply take your jokes too far without realizing it. “It’s just… since when do you use pick-up lines?”

In the years of knowing Seo Changbin, you had never heard him say a single pick-up line. Sure, Changbin never passed up an opportunity to shamelessly flirt with just about anyone, but he never resorted to something so “primitive” (as he himself once said) like pick-up lines. That was more up Bang Chan’s alley.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Chan-hyung swears it works. He said the fans go crazy whenever he uses one.” He gave you a curious look. “You’re our fan too. Why didn’t it work?” he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. Despite the situation you found yourself in, the sight of him sitting like that opposite you was just so adorable. Of course, you would never admit it to him, but the thought was still there, making you smirk before you caught yourself.

You opted for standing up from the couch and going to refill your glass, not wanting your face to betray you, given the fact that Changbin was taking this situation seriously, at least to a certain degree.

“My dear Changbin, you’re forgetting one very small but also very important detail,” you called from the kitchen. While waiting for a response, you opened the fridge to take out a bottle of juice.

“What, that I’m not Chan-hyung?”

“No! Well… I mean yes, but that’s not my point,” you yelled back and put the juice back. Walking out of the kitchen, you stopped at the door and leaned your side on the doorframe, with a clear view of Changbin still pouting in the other room. He didn’t exactly look like he had figured it out yet, so it was up to you to give him the hint. “Do you know what the difference is between me and a regular STAY?”

He shook his head and looked up at you, waiting for an answer.

“I’ve met your dumb asses.”

With a smile on your lips, you watched Changbin’s reaction. As if it were slow motion, he furrowed his brows in confusion, but then it got replaced by annoyance. “Yah! What do you mean by that?” he shouted, but there was only pretend anger present in the tone of his voice. You got pretty good at guessing when he was joking, and right now you were sure you were both on the same page.

“That any fan who would spend just a day in the presence of any of you would think twice before falling for you,” you answered with an innocent grin and drank from the glass, making it seem like a neutral conversation. Which it was, theoretically. There was no real malice behind your words, you just enjoyed teasing your best friend.

“Or you just have poor taste, because Stray Kids are totally boyfriend goals,” Changbin retorted, raising an eyebrow as if saying “what’s your response to that, huh?”

But you were ready for him. You two bickered so often that your replies were basically autopilot. Without missing a beat, you scoffed. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.” With a victory smirk, you watched Changbin freeze. He was trying to think of some witty reply, but it seemed like you got him there.

“Wait a minute, doesn’t Jeongin have that friend from school who is also a STAY?” Changbin asked after a moment of silence. You just looked at him, head tilted to the side and confusion written all over your face. “Let’s call them and settle this once and for all,” he explained, already standing up and going to his room for his phone.

taglist: @stayconnecteed @saintriots @vivioluh @ivaneedssleep @jazziwritesthings @darkypooo

©starlostastronaut 2023 | do not repost/translate my work without permission

[i-am-an-arson-enthusiast]

Here at i-am-an-arson-enthusiast, we i am dedicated to bringing you top quality content such as but not limited to: gay things, cats, and even live arson that you don't even have to tune into!!

hi this is my intro post :D

basic questions that i love answering

“hey what should i call you” good question. i dont really care, most of my mutuals call me arson. thats cool. bc i love arson. (clearly) but you can call me really whatever. planet names are dope as shit, but only @marcysbear gets to call me neptune. also enthu is off limits, only @terrifying-acceptance gets to call me that.

for the record: if you call me either of those names and are not either of them, that is crossing a genuine boundary of mine. you ARE NOT allowed to call me those names if you are not the designated person for that.

“ur gay” woah really i didnt know that ur like the first person ever to notice that!! (no ur not, ive known that for years)

“what type of gay” yes. the easiest way to explain it is bisexual. that being said: i use bisexual surprizingly little. i call myself lesbian and gay all the time (as in wlw and mlm).i’m polyamorous and arospec. month three of my identity crisis: uh i think the term arospec works well bc idk where the fuck i am on it but i’m definetly on this spectrum! grayromantic also works i think.

“gender????” im genderfluid. which explains the pronoun changes. im also trans, nb, genderqueer, and any of the genders and terms i need to articulate what the silly lil dudes in my head make me feel.

AUDHD :D explains why i am obsessed with space (going back to names planet names are cool and epic btw)

“do u horny post on main???” i reblog horny posts to my main but i dont normally do the original horny posting. tell me if i need to tw that btw :3

my cool and epic tags

i try to consistanly use them but sometimes i dont. sorry.

woah i’m using queue - i’m actually queuing a post for once instead of spam reblogging (which i mostly do sorry not sorry)

woah a real text post - me positing an actual text post for once but it’s becoming more common

cool ass art - art that i reblog (it’s all cool)

arson does half way decent art sometimes - my art. art i made. yea

the beloved - my beautiful beautiful queer platonic partner @terrifying-acceptance who i tag in a lot of shit :]

i will keep adding more as i remember them and make them so yea :D also i try to tag for things but i often dont add tw or cw because. idk. just havent ever done that. if you need me too you can tell me in any form and ill try my gaddamn hardest to add them. feel free to *kindly* remind me if i forgot. (as in no verbal abuse ya know. if ur scared ur probably fine)

the last section that is mostly important for followers :]

if u wanna follow me it’d be cool if you have a banner and pfp but as long as ur like not a bot ur good.

feel free to ask questions :) this is the point at which i tell you that i love getting asks and dms. my dms are always open unless i am dead. (current status: alive at very least.) also i am in school so you are practically guaranteed to get a response not immediately. give me 12-24 hours to respond before being offended. after that it’s fair game.

I genuinely do not care and give no fucks about what you believe and how you live your life as long as you dont hurt yourself or others, you are not offended by me being very not religious/spiritual and you do not shove it down anyones throat.

I mostly do reblogs and tag them as such half the time

lastly if you interact with this post it lets me know that you read it but i’m gonna look at your profile anyway if u follow me so you don’t have to.

thank you for reading all of that i know it’s long. your cool so here’s a cookie 🍪 also here have this

credit to @v-4-l-0-n and @theprideful :)

(order of the banners are “exclusionists fuck off”, then this user loves being a lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, genderfluid, then non binary)

[mrsjobarnes]

Not the only Cowboy - Chapter 3

Summary: Jake had never been the type of guy to fall first, maybe you’ll be the one to change that. 

A/N~ Sorry this took so long guys, school is kicking my ass right now. I’m a double major so my course load is massive. I hope you enjoy it! xoxo

Jake Sersin x Nurse!reader 

Word count: 1.8k

Warning: Drinking, flirting, and kissing Asshole Ex. Let me know if I missed anything! 

Likes & comments are welcome! 

Please do not steal my work! 

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Nat what am I supposed to wear, I haven’t been on a date in years,” you said panicking on the phone. 

“I'm still confused about why you asked Bangman on a date,” Nat said giggling. You rolled your eyes and kept rummaging through your closet. “Why don’t you wear that blue sun dress you have and your sandals,” Nat said. 

“You’re a Guinness Nat,” you said smiling, grabbing said items, and running into the bathroom to change. “And to answer your question I asked him out because he seems funny and kind” 

“Okay well text me if you need me to beat his ass or save you. Love you, have fun, bye,” she said.

Right as you finished you heard a knock at the door. 

“Coming” you yelled from the hallway as you returned to your room to get your shoes. Once you open the door you are met with Jake in a white button-down and khakis. “Well don’t you look handsome,” you said. 

He smiles and blushes “Thank you, sweets, you look stunning,” he said kissing you on the cheek. “Shall we go?” he asks. 

You all decided to go to dinner before going to the club. You all decide on burgers, which is your favorite.  “So tell me about something random about you,” Jake asks with a smirk. 

You think hard about it and respond, “Okay I know this is weird but I have a fear of birds” you say blushing. Jake tries his hardest not to laugh. “Don’t laugh it’s not funny” you say giving him a look that only his mother gave him, which shuts him up real quick.

“I’m sorry doll, it’s just a little funny. Can you at least tell me why?” he says smiling. 

“So when I was younger I went to a petting zoo and they had a field and coop where you could pick up the chickens so I went to pick up a chick and it turns out it was actually a baby goose and mamma goose didn’t like that and proceed to chase me till I dropped the chick. Ever since then, I’ve been terrified of all birds,” you say looking down at the table embarrassed. Jake looks up at you and realizes what he did. 

“I can understand that, if that happened to me I would be scared too,” he said. “I think my biggest fear would have to be those tiny dogs,” he said with a sincere look on his face. Now it was your turn to laugh except you didn’t keep it in. “Har har har laugh it up but why do you get chased one of those satan spawns don't come asking me for help,” he said smiling at you. He could listen to you laugh all day. “Tell me something else about you,” he said 

“Oof umm I like history like I’m a huge nerd,” you say blushing 

“I like history too but what part of history?” he said raising his eyebrows

“Hmm I’m fascinated by anything from the Industrial Revolution to the Vietnam War, I know that’s a broad timeline but yeah oooooh I also really like true crime,” you said.

Jake’s eyes lit up “I obviously have a fascination with military history. I am fascinated with world wars and what the repercussions are. I also really like true crime. What is your favorite,” he said, seeming genuinely interested. 

“Like my favorite crime or?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. He shook his head, yes, and as you thought about it, your food was brought out “I would have to say like high profile murders or assassinations. I don’t know what it is but I find them so interesting. What about you?” 

Jake takes a second to think about it. “I have a weird fascination with cults. I have no idea what it is about them, I think it all stems from the whole Waco Texas thing happening when I was growing up,” he said. The conversation carried on until it was time for the bill when you both raced to pay for it. “Y/n please let me pay, it’s just how my mama raised me” he said pleading with you. 

“Jake, would you just let me, please, it’s my treat,” you said with starry eyes. Jake had to fight with all his might not to let you win this. Just add it to the list of things he really likes about you. Once the waiter gets to the table he snatches it before you can. You give him a huge pouty face, “Fine you won this time but I'm buying drinks’ you say smirking. When you walk to the car he races in front of you to open your door. On the ride over to the club you continue your true crime discussion when your favorite song comes on the radio and you start singing and dancing along in your own little world. Jake was mesmerized by you, you made him feel something he didn't think he was capable of. 

Once you pulled up to the club you walked straight to the bar and ordered a Long Island iced tea and Jake ordered a beer. Sadly he beat you to paying again much to your dismissal. “Jake once we finish these we should dance,” you say smiling. Suddenly ‘I Like It Like That’ by Cardi B came on and it was like a switch flipped in your brain and you pulled Jake onto the dance floor. You put his hands on your waist and started dancing without a care in the world. Jake was a great dance partner. “Have you taken ballroom dancing classes?” you ask smiling because he had such grace when dancing. 

“Yeah, I had to take my sisters to Cotillion,” he whispered in your ear before twirling you around. After a couple of songs, you guys get water and go to the bathroom. While freshening up in the bathroom you couldn’t fight the blush on your cheeks. You had never had this much chemistry on a first date. Walking out and towards Jake you see a redhead hanging all over him, you quickly get upset and charge at her but before you can say anything he gently pushes her off of him and says “I'm on a date ma’am, sorry” and he walks to the other side of the bar. You stand there grinning like an idiot, you can’t wait to tell Nat. He is sitting on a stool as you approach him. “There you are sweets, here is your water with lemon,” he said, slinging his arm around your waist pulling you to stand in between his legs. “Can’t have the Navy’s best nurse having a hangover” he said, kissing your cheek. He pulled back and you gave him a lustful look. Finishing your water you pulled him to the dance floor when ‘Dancing with Our Hands Tied’ By Taylor Swift came on. 

“Ahhh I love this song” you shout pulling Jake onto the dance floor. As you guys dance you feel nothing but safe in his arms, you could get used to this.  A couple of songs later you guys decided to call it a night. 

As the night comes to a close, he walks you up to your door. You can tell he wants to come in but you’re not ready. “Thank you for this wonderful date. I hope we can have a second one” you say kissing him on the cheek turning around and walking into your house. Jake stood there with the biggest grin contemplating how he could one up this date.  

—

Monday at work all Jake wanted to do was find a reason to go to your office. He tried complaining of a headache, upset tummy, and a paper cut to which Mav just laughed. 

“Hey blondie,” You said walking into the lounge. Jake’s head shot up and a smile broke out on his face. “Heard you had a Paper cut that was life-threatening,” you said grinning while the rest of the team giggled. Mav had come into your office begging you to go give Jake attention so he’d finally do his work. “We can’t have one of our best not feeling well,” you say grabbing your lunch from the fridge. 

“I'm feeling so much better now that you’re here,” he said, smirking as you sat next to him at the table. Everyone continued their conversations, while Jake just kept smiling at you. 

“So what's on the agenda for today?” you say. Maverick answers your question and starts to go into detail, Jake looks over at you and can tell that you are lost. He leans over and starts translating pilot language into understandable terms. “So after all that are we getting drinks?” you ask and are met with a hardy yes from everyone looking at a Maverick who planned a hard day. You chuckle and finish your lunch. When your pager goes off saying you have a patient, get up to return to your office, Jake springs up and offers to walk you. On your way there you strike up a conversation about how you want to get a cat. 

“I just don’t get how you want to get a cat when a dog is a great option,” he said in a serious tone. You just looked at him and giggled.  

“Well I’m not at home enough for a dog plus cats are just as fun,” you say looking at him for a second before walking into the clinic and stopping at the counter to be given the patient’s file. 

“Okay we’ll agree to disagree, but before you go to work I want to know if you’ll go on a date this Wednesday?” he asks with a shy smile. You kiss his cheek. 

“I would love that,” you say before walking into the examination room. Looking down at the chart you walk into the room. You look, your stomach drops and tears start to well in your eyes, you thought you’d escaped him. 

“Hey Baby,” he says with his classic smirk. 

“What are you doing here Blake,” you ask slowly, stepping back and trying to grab the door handle. 

“I came to get my fiancé” 

Tag list

@alana4610

@taytaylala12

@lonelywitchv2

@junegrey2

@novagreen04

@pookie-cleary

@emma8895eb

@littlebadariell

[savriea]

Get To Know Me Tag

Whew this was a long one! Thanks for the tag lovely, @darkurgetrash <3 This was fun! I love these games and learning more about my moots and sharing about myself when I wouldn't otherwise!

No pressure tags for: @little-paperboat @seabirdsong @forget-me-maybe Do you make your bed? Nope! Once I manage to peel myself out of that thing, what's left behind isn't my business. (plus I have 2 dogs who would promptly tear it back up, so,)

Favorite Number: I've always liked the number 11. Can't really say why, though!

What's your job? I am in sales, which works shockingly well given that I am pretty introverted IRL

If you could go back to school, would you? No. I was always smart but struggled in school because I had undiagnosed ADHD and was only seen as a problem child and as the weird girl. The lack of support and social issues left a bad taste in my mouth for school. Then, post-high school, I experienced terrible burnout in my first few years at college.

Can you parallel park/drive a manual car? Yes and yes. Cars and motorsports are actually a big passion of mine :)

Do you think aliens are real? Hell yeah! We'd be insane to think we're the only ones here. I kinda subscribe to the Dark Forest theory, though

What's your guilty pleasure? Napping. On the rare weekends that I have free time, there is nothing to stop me from a 6-hour mid-day nap. That and sweets.

Tattoos? I have 4, with plans for a few more. I have more piercings than tattoos at the moment. I just need to find a new artist, eventually... if I ever remember.

Favorite type of music: I have 2, depending on the mood. Metal/Rock or Electronic/House music. Which, these days a lot of metal leans on electronic heavily so it balances 🥰

Do you like puzzles? Yes and no. I really enjoy escape rooms as my ADHD can just go crazy with finding something, getting distracted and finding something else, then putting it all together. The time constraints are the vibe killer there, tbh

Any phobias? Fear of falling, definitely. I don't mind heights themselves if I'm in a secure position, but things like skydiving/ziplining/certain roller coasters do me in.

Favorite childhood sport: I was never into sports as a kid. I've gotten really into motorsports as an adult, though, and feel like if I grew up somewhere that kids motor sporting/karting was more prevalent *cough cough Europe cough cough* I would have been super into that.

Do you talk to yourself? Not really. There's enough going on in my mind 24/7 that the external stimulation might push me over the edge lol

What movie(s) do you adore? When people ask about my 'favorite movie', there are only ever 2 answers. Animated: Pixar's Cars. Live Action: Interstellar. No I will not take questions.

Coffee or tea: Depends. Cold: Coffee, all day. Hot: Tea, green, please.

First thing you wanted to be growing up? An astronaut 🥰

Last song I listened to: tear gas - Architects

Favorite color: Black!

Current obsession: BG3, lol.

Last thing I Googled: The phone # for my local tire shop 😂 Fancy.

Favorite Season: Winter. I love a good cold day.

Skill I'd like to learn: Painting. I actually went to art school for 2 years before suffering from extreme burn out. I was always decent with digital art, but I would love to be able to really, actually, literally paint

Best advice: I genuinely can't share any. Big head no thoughts. Sorry

Currently watching: Catching up on the Fallout show! I'm always very behind on new TV but currently about halfway through it.

Currently reading: A stupidly long list of BG3 fanfics as my "to read" books sit gathering dust on my bookshelf.

Relationship status: Married! Together since 2016 <3

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: Gosh it really depends on the mood, but if I had to choose only one for the rest of my life, SWEET! I have a weakness for baked goods.

[imrllytootiredforthis]

So I have a question, and I hope you don't take offence or possibly miss my genuine curiosity in this? You write about dom!reader x members (which is fucking hot and the only reason I follow you cause its that good) but I have to ask, how do you picture fucking them? Like, is it with a strap on? Or maybe a transgender reader? I just wanna know so that I understand how to see myself when I'm getting lost in your fics.

Thank you <3

Hi anon, no offense at all from my end!!

I actually really liked this question because it made me look at myself as a writer, and also just as a person and the things that i'm into,

Before I say anything though, you yourself can read it however you want. I think that’s part of the beauty of sharing your writing, letting people have their own interpretations and views on what you write.

I want my writing to be inclusive to everyone, which is why most (not all but most of my newer-ish) fics that aren’t requested are attempted to be written with that in mind.

But if you really do wanna know what I imagine, it’s a bit harder to explain because it’s shifted so much over the time that I’ve had this blog and from a day-to-day basis as well.

When I first posted on this blog, nearly a year ago last October (crazy how long it’s been) I would’ve definitely said I imagined it as a reader with a strap but at the time i was using she/her pronouns 99% of the time and was only kind of questioning my gender identity. Now, however I use any on here because I don’t feel like any fit me for the majority of the time, it’s shifting and changing with the day and feeling.

Even now I can’t pin down one to tell you for certain because there isn’t one way I only think when I’m writing. Sometimes I imagine the reader with a strap and fem presenting or with a strap and gender neutral completely, I imagine a trans reader-amab or afab with a strap or without. I imagine a male reader too sometimes, or female reader with a dick because it’s fiction and why the hell not.

A dick is a dick and if I wanna write a fan fiction where I have a pretty boy drooling over mine then I’m gonna write it no matter if I don’t have a real one (sadly, but we’re not gonna get into that right now)

I write pegging/fucking w a reader w a dick more often because i am a little bit uncomfortable writing where the reader is being penetrated and find it hot as hell (to say it frankly) for the reader to be doing the penetrating instead.

I project any and (mostly) all of my fantasies onto this blog and those have few bounds so honestly I couldn’t tell you

So, sorry anon, for making you read this all to give you a bullshit, on the fence answer but that’s what I got right now!😅

[crehador]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks...

ahh this is such a fun question, thanks so much for the ask! a difficult question as well lol, i am very indecisive so a top 10 anything is... tough

i'll limit myself to animanga only, aaand lump some characters in under the same banner so there's definitely going to be more than 10 here. i'm also prohibiting myself from giving more than one slot to hpmi characters or that would just be the whole list

anyway:

ICHISAMA (package deal, do not separate)

this is probably obvious (or should be obvious) from my pinned but in first place are of course my forever blorbos (and forever otp) ichiro and samatoki of hypnosis mic

it's hard to say what i like about them besides "literally everything" which is kind of funny because for like the first year-ish of me being into hpmi neither of them were my top favorites lol

and now i genuinely have to say i like them both equally, and like them both the most. out of any characters of anything ever. i typed a bunch of paragraphs after this but think i'll actually just stop here because nothing really does justice to how they make me feel (unwell, in a good way)

this post is already getting long so everything else will go under a cut! and besides ichisama in first, none of the other characters will be strictly ranked in order. mostly just listed as i think of them

2. bon my beloved, of showa genroku rakugo shinju

this is my favorite anime of all time, and what i would personally consider the best anime of all time, and bon is perhaps the single most beautiful character with the single most beautiful story i've consumed ever. i never feel any urge to make or consume fanworks of this series because it's just so mind-blowingly perfect and complete to me

i won't spoil too much about the series, but it's a tragedy, and that's something i don't read or watch much of. so it's truly exception for this to be my favorite, but it was just that good

bon is in so many ways a tragic character, and the series allows you to see him through his whole life. he's tragic in such a hauntingly beautiful way, though, and i left the series feeling like he now lives in my bones

this is probably also my favorite ishida akira role ever, which is saying a lot because he's always great. i love the anime because it gives such life to the rakugo performed in the series, and though i'm not an expert on rakugo, i felt like the performances were top-tier. and it always impresses me when voice actors take on roles that require them to perform a whole ass other art form (like rakugo or rap)

3. aomine (knb) AND grimmjow (bleach)

these are the same goddamn man i'm putting them together no one can stop me. they are a) blue b) panther-coded c) very aggro d) very aggro at a ginger mc specifically e) DEPRESSED and f) voiced by suwabe

(though honestly grimmjow's just here because they're too similar to separate, aomine's the real favorite here)

the thing with aomine is basically—

—and that paired with his tough guy/badass/fuckface manner is very appealing to me. i don't think it's even remotely possible for me to be brief in why he's so dear to me, but the short version is he's a deeply traumatized asshole and i'm into that

4. KIYOSE HAIJI RUN WITH THE WIND GUY OF ALL TIME (and various other sports guys who are single mothers)

i may have a lot of guys of all times but haiji is for real. before ichiro he was my favorite character of anything ever for a while, and he is definitely my favorite type of sports guy (so a lot of other sports guys are going to be lumped into this category with him lol)

he has an infectious passion for running and he will infect you. whether you let him or not. it's not negotiable. you will run. no matter what

i think he brings out the best in those around him, sometimes at a detrimental cost to himself. he pushes his team hard but pushes himself even harder. we stan a self-destructive king

and i'm putting natsusa number24 right in this rank with him

because while number24 is objectively Not a good anime, it's easily one of my favorite sports series and i sincerely love natsusa just as much as i love haiji. natsusa is like if someone made haiji but cranked the bitch factor up to one billion, he is the most gaslit gatekeep girlboss guy in all of sports anime and i love him for that

bonus shoutout to iura kei of shakunetsu kabaddi, usui yuuta of days, and sugawara koushi of haikyuu. gotta be my favorite flavor of sports guy

(ok this is not even fully true because i think my days favorite did ultimately end up being mizuki because he's just so fucking stupid BUT usui i still love you.........)

5. kaworu and all his ridiculously many expies (aka the "and then a weird guy appear" category)

basically i'm talking about these fucks

they show up, sometimes not even for very long, and all they do is cause problems (ok victor probably doesn't really belong here but he honestly does fit the mold and i'm too lazy to crop him out from this old graphic i made lol) and love another weird guy so catastrophically that it alters the course of the story

the way kaworu loves shinji the way komaeda loves hinata the way zashunina…… obsesses over shindo. like fine wine to me, chef's kiss. tbh that's why victor fits the mold for me, his and yuuri's love is less the "People Will Die" type of catastrophic but it's still life-changing, life-saving, for them both

ironically even though kaworu is a ryo expy himself i'm not. i'm not that big on ryo, i'll be honest. maybe it's because i wasn't the biggest of netflix devilman in general. i should probably read the manga sometime, might change my mind

6. SOFT BOYS natsume and rei

putting them together in part because lol look at them making the same pose on their anime covers even

these are both (natumse's book of friends and march comes in like a lion) two of my favorite series, and two of my favorite protagonists. they're soft but not weak, hurt but not broken. it just feels comfortable to spend time with them, to follow them even when they're hurting

7. CELTY MY BELOVED, of durarara

honestly celty is just cool as fuck. there are lots and lots of reasons to love her but i get so incoherent about it. it's really strange because i feel like the way narita writes women is not great in many ways, and yet... he always fucking... writes the hottest fucking women goddamn, i can't be mad about that

i always liked shinra too. because of how relatable he was lmao. i would be a weird little man about celty too i'm sorry

8. sir integra fairbrook wingates hellsing, of hellsing

god. yet another. she's just so fucking cool. massively obsessed with her. it's been too long since i've watched hellsing (and durarara for that matter) for me to remember a ton of details but her whole personality is just so appealing to me

you know the way people like fma olivier armstrong. sir integra's my armstrong

9. hei, of darker than black

once again he's just cool as fuck, also i'm chinese and it's rare to see a really good chinese character in anime, much less as a main character. darker than black is an older series at this point, but it remains one of my old favorites. second season was a bit questionable but honestly i didn't hate it. my boy got fuucked uuupppppp (said with delight)

funny story about hei is when i first started watching the show there was this moment where i thought "this is a weird detail to notice but something about his collarbones look really nice to me? they're just two lines but idk they're lovely"

THEN LATER IN THE SERIES on at least two other occasions that i can remember, maybe more, actual characters in canon commented on THIS SPECIFIC THING. HIS COLLARBONES. so what do i like about hei? what does anyone like about hei? apparently it's his collarbones lmao

10. nooooo i'm running out of space now and there are so many more blorbso i would talk about i can't choose who to put here but but but closing my eyes and picking the first name that comes to mind MIKOTO SUOH K PROJECT

part of me thinks i shouldn't actually put him here because he's, like, red samatoki lmao but no he deserves a spot. i think. idk. that's what i'm going with for now but, you know, indecisive

anyway. love a tragic mfer with one dead boyfriend who haunts the narrative and another ex who [redacted idk if anyone is going to be reading this far but just in case no one wants k spoilers i want say anything but you know this show is old as balls by now]

i actually love both of the factions in k (there are more factions later but i'm focusing on red and blue) because they're both families in different ways, and mikoto and munakata both care about their families in different ways (yes i love that bitch munakata too)

and the way they care for their people while failing to fully let their people care for them in return is sooooo delicious as a character trait to me

so that's the end of this enormous post i guess! there are approximately a billion other characters i love that i didn't get to mention but i will do my best to shut up now lmao

thank you again for the ask, very fun exercise to think about!

[kings-highway]

I read Time Enough yesterday from start to finish (yes I had other things to do, no that did not stop me) and I am still thinking about it. I left a little comment but I wanted to say more. (Sorry if this is a bit incomprehensible, I'm Very tired)

Your angst is always written in such an immersive and impressive way, but this story in particular hit so strongly. I thought it was so well done. Everything Daichi did and felt was so believable. And the feelings of having to move through a life like that was absolutely heart breaking. The relationships were so believable and idk how to phrase it other than genuine? Realistic?

It was just such an intense and beautiful piece, and Daichi's journey/cycle of monotony to acting out to trying to find stability again was so well done and so relatable. I was right along with him at one point like "obviously he has to learn a lesson here, but come on he did! He's trying to live life more!" Only to realize at the end that he still really wasn't, not really, not in the way that really allowed him to appreciate it. It wasn't that he needed to appreciate life by acting more or less predictable, it's that he needed to learn to appreciate life by appreciating his own, by learning to take care of himself, by asking for help and letting others take care of him. I've read several of your stories now where this is a major theme for him and I was STILL too immersed in his mindset to see it right away! That's very good writing imo <3

If you want to answer (ik some people don't like explaining story choices and that's fine too! I have my theories) what moment in that last day was it that broke the loop? Or was there no one moment, but just the process of the day itself and those leading up to it that did it?

First, thank you so much for leaving such a lovely and sincere ask in my inbox. You've got my giggling and kicking my feet like a child on christmas. It means so much that someone like you is reading and appreciating my work 🤍🤍

Second, I dont mind answering at all! I know a few others had speculated regarding the circumstances of the time loop so I can definitely share my decision making process

[Spoilers for literally nearly every chapter of Time Enough below, if you havent read it yet.]

And the answer is... Nothing.

Though that doesnt mean it wasnt intentional on my part, that nothingness means something to me.

The logic of the time loop is simply "sometimes time gets stuck in a loop, and unfortunately this time Daichi is aware of it." There is no real reason why it breaks on that specific day that it does, it could have just as easily broken the day before or the day after or in twelve years.

While I played around with the idea of Daichi having to "break" it in some way, there was no version of that that didnt position someone in his life as more important than another, or incite further questions about the universe. (although it does make me giggle imagining if the second half took a sharp left turn into Daichi and Oikawa hunting and fighting aliens.)

You could read this story as a metaphor for depression or burnout, optionally.

The truth is, every choice Daichi made always mattered. Each day did not come with definitive evidence that it would loop again into the next, it just coincidentally did for approximately two years. As suddenly and jarringly as it breaks in the 11th chapter, that could have been any chapter. Thats why so many end with the 00:00 moment, because it wasn't a given and it was important to mention. What would have happened if it had broken after he's slept with and romanced Oikawa? [Would he have pursued this new connection? left it as a one night stand? how would his life have moved forward after that kind of insane connection as Oikawa would believe he had his time loop experience?] What would have happened if it had broken after Tendou had been hit by the truck? [Tendou would be dead - what will he tell anyone?] What if it had broken after punching Iwaizumi? While he's standing, frostbitten in Iceland? After any random day he thought didnt matter? After he kills himself?

Daichi was never any more safe from his consequences in the loop as he was in linear time, he just got lucky.

And thats the point. How many times have you [the reader] skipped a class because its "boring and repetive?" phone in an essay because its "just" 10%? declined to hang out with a friend you havent seen in a while because "eh, maybe next weekend."

Choices always matter. Even if you think you have calculated the worst possible end, every single day has the ability to dramatically shift the direction of your life if you use it right. There is no such thing as a day that doesnt matter.

As a metaphor for depression and burnout, you're absolutely right. Daichi's loop is broken the moment he tells Suga that he'll let him take care of him. The moment he admits there's a problem and makes a promise he intends to keep. The act of loving and being loved in return is scary and difficult but sometimes it is the only way to succeed. [Its important here to mention that this is not romantic love I refer to.] And that means trying. Agreeing to do something you think is pointless [Daichi doesnt believe a psychiatrist can help; its a time loop] but he trusts Suga anyway and agrees sincerely.

As a story, it was nothing anyone did.

Daichi just got lucky that when the loop broke he was safe and surrounded by people who would care for him.

Free will and individual agency are massive themes in my stories and perhaps thats just a product of my own current age and experience. I think in a lot of ways I havent quite gotten the hang of it myself even if I understand it in my mind. Understanding it intuitively is a lot harder.

But it gets a little bit easier for me when I can write it out and share it with people like you who care as much for these characters and stories and appreciate them in the same way.

Thank you so much for asking <3 Inbox is always open and yall can message me any time if you wanna chat about anything to just scream. [The chickens in my brain will do their best to scream back.]

[one-thousand-and-one-fandoms]

Ghost Whisperer Voltron AU - Part 4

1 2 3

Allura didn't get a lot of sleep that night, or the ones that followed. The little boy had paid her two more visits, always around dusk. What caught her attention was the always reacted as if she was a stranger, because it was unusual. Usually the ghosts began to recognize her, which made the process of moving on easier for all parties, but this little boy seemed to forget.

In her research, she discovered a few important things. City records showed that the previous owners of the house were the McClains, who moved six years before and had trouble selling it. The house remained vacant until she bought it, for at least half the price it should have sold for.

She also found out that around that time there was a fire in the school and there two casualties: a firefighter and his son. Allura knew the son was the little boy who kept visiting, but his name was redacted from the papers for some reason. So, she paid a visit to the local firemen station.

It was a Tuesday morning and it seemed to be a slow day for the town. Kids were at school, people were at work, and barring an emergency, the sirens were quiet. She walked in through the garage, and immediately noticed there was a wall covered in pictures. She began to approach when one of the firefighters noticed her.

"Hello, can I help you?" He asked. He was tall, broad shouldered and was missing an arm. He also had a large scar accross his nose.

"Oh, hi! I'm new in town, so I was just walking around and getting to know the place," she said, feeling a bit awkward.

"Well, it's nice to meet you! Hope you're liking it so far," he replied and extended his hand, "name's Takashi Shirogane, but most people call me Shiro."

"Allura Altean," she shook his hand.

"So, where did you move to? I haven't heard of anyone moving away," he continued.

"Oh, it's a house that was vacant for years near the edge of town. It's a bit of a fixer upper, but I'm into DIY and such," she answered. Shiro's face made a funny expression, and it made her curious, "is something the matter?"

"Huh? No, not at all... it's just... well, some people say those houses are haunted. You are brave for buying the property."

If only he knew, Allura thought, but replied, "Oh, really? I had no idea."

"For real? They didn't tell you when you got it?" Allura made her eyes look wide and she shook her head. Shiro continued, "well, local legend says that after a fire in the school a few years ago, weird things began to happen in the area. So much so, that the school relocated to a different building."

"Oh? What kind of weird things?" She asked, genuinely intrigued even if she was playing up the tourist act.

"Shadows in the windows, things that moved on its own, flickering lights... that sort of thing. One story says that one say a desk broke as if someone had jumped on it. Another says that if you pass by the abandoned school building around ten in the morning, when they used to have recess, something will throw rocks at you. Oh, and my favorite: some people claim that the demons haunting the place started the fire in the first place."

"Takashi, what are you doing?" Someone asked behind her and Allura did not startle. She didn't. Shiro laughed and she glared at him.

"Just telling our new resident about the history of our town," Shiro replied to the man who was approaching them. He was tall, although a bit shorter than Shiro, and leaner, with a critical gaze and square glasses. He slapped Shiro's arm.

"More like telling ghost stories, aren't you?" The man retorted.

"Hey, they're entretaining!"

"No, they are disrespectful!"

Shiro rolled his eyes in what seemed to be a regular argument for these two. Allura felt confused.

"I'm sorry, but what's disrespectful?"

The second man turned to her, now. She felt the need to fix her hair and made sure she was presentable, for some reason.

"I assume you're the new resident who moved into the old McClain house?" He asked and she nodded, "well, miss..."

"Allura."

"Miss Allura, the truth is that we lost one of our own in that fire six years ago, and while it was tragic, the causes were found to be completely mundane and accidental. I find it disrespectful to take a tragedy such as this and make up ghost stories out of it."

"Oh," Allura said, taken aback, "do you know why the McClains moved, then? I'm just surprised how the house came to be so... affordable."

Adam sighed, "I don't really know. Takashi and I transferred to this station about two years after the fire and they were already gone. From what I understand, however, they were pretty close with Sargeant Kogane."

"Is he the firefighter who died in the fire?"

"Indeed," he said and led her to the wall of pictures. There, he pointed to a tall man with an easygoing smile who had his arm around a small boy that she recognized.

"Who is he?" Allura asked and pointed at the boy.

This time the man's sigh was deeply sad, and it was Shiro who answered her question. His smile was gone and she wouldn't have guessed this man had been laughingly telling her ghost stories just a few minutes ago.

"That's his son. Keith. He also died in the fire."

Next

[wildflowerteas]

hey, hello. i’m not sure if you’ll recognize me, but this is mania.sama on ao3, and i just now found your tumblr on my for you page. i havent had tumblr very long, and it’s surprised just how many people i’ve enjoyed works of (writing, drawings, etc) are here. especially surprised to see you — not in a bad way, of course!

i’m not sure what to say. sorry, maybe, for not reading / up to date with your current fic. i want to be reading it, i really do, but i was caught up reading “crime and punishment”, focusing on my academia, etc, among other issues that’s kept me away from committing to any long-form fanfictions. i wasn’t even reading one-shots or writing anything for a little while. hopefully i will be getting back onto your fic so, because from what little i’ve read already when you first posted it, it’s going to be life-changing.

i want to say more, i think. ask a question or two? i’m just very excited to see that your also drawing — amazing artwork for the second perspective!! i genuinely couldn’t believe it was real at first — and also a similar age to me, which i find nearly unbelievable due to your insane talent and skill.

hm. i think i’ll ask this question: what are your top favorite books? this could be fanfiction, short-form stories, novels, series, etc. you can list as many as you want; if they seem significant to you, have changed you, or were simply that well done and enjoyable. you dont need to treat this as a book recommendation; think not what other people should read. just express your own thoughts on why you have chosen these works as your favorite! i’m excited to see what you have to say (should you chose to answer, of course!)

again, hopefully i will read the second perspective soon <3 thank you so much for all the work you’ve done so far.

OH MY GOD IT'S YOUUU !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm going to start this off by saying you quite literally changed my life. I go back from time to time and I read our little conversation in my comments threads and I get a little teary-eyed ( embarrassingly ). You gave me such a different perspective on my own writing and I've spent a while wishing there was something I could do to make you feel the same way in return. Do NOT apologize for not reading it!!! I'm absolutely in awe and so grateful you enjoyed the first one so much and if you enjoy TSP too that would actually make my head spin. Also, we're the same age?????? Hello?????? I'm so glad to hear about your life in the interim, though. I hope you enjoyed Crime and Punishment ( isn't it so good??? ). Also, you briefly mentioned writing yourself, so I may have to go back and stalk your profile for your works now.

Hmmm . . . to answer your question. This is pretty difficult because I've loved a lot of books over the years for nothing specific at all ( some of them are quite ridiculous if I'm being honest ). But here goes nothing:

When I was little ( maybe three-four ish? ), I loved Tumtum & Nutmeg, a series about a mouse couple living inside of a refurbished cupboard, because the books always came with recipes at the back ( that I would make for my family ). When I think about reading/my favorite books when I was a child, I always go back to this blurry rose-colored vision of me sitting on the couch at seven a.m., Tuesday morning, waiting to go to school, and talking my mother's ear off about the pastries in the book while Planet Earth plays on the TV. Lately, though, I've enjoyed reading Breasts and Eggs by Kawakami Mieko. Which, for a lot of reasons, has deeply resonated with me and kind of ruined my life. Womanhood in Japan, and womanhood in general, is dissected so well and explored with a lot of different character perspectives. It's just an incredible work and deeply personal to me as a queer, Japanese, and afab person. Empire of Pain, which was recommended to me by a friend, has become one of my favorite books as well. I've never really done well with non-fiction, but reading about the Sacklers definitely changed that. No Longer Human, and School Girl by Dazai Osamu. NLH I read in a school context ( Japanese language-learning classes ) and I wasn't really allowed to love it because of that ( who likes required reading? ). But I went back to it a few years later, when I was really struggling mentally, and it became something to me that I can't quite name or place. Not really a comfort. I'd actually say it was more of a wake-up call to teen me that actually prompted me to seek out help and rip down the fourth wall I'd put up between myself and others. School Girl I love for more technical reasons. Dazai really was a once-in-a-century talent. Poor Folk, by Fyodor Dostoevsky, was my reading-for-enjoyment book during spring semester of my first year at college. I loved a lot about it, but it's on this list because I'm emotionally attached to the characters because we were together for so long. On a less serious note: Bungo Stray Dogs ( Obviously, despite whatever Asagiri is cooking up) and Yona of the Dawn by Kusanagi Mizuho. Next to BSD, it's one of the manga I've been a fan of for over a decade, and I just could not imagine my life without it. Flowers for Algernon. I read this . . . oh gosh. Years ago. And I never reread it. That's all I'll say about that. Kira-Kira by Cynthia Kadohata. Again, a Japanese author ( there would be more, but I'm keeping myself contained here ) who would have thought? I think, by now, it's pretty clear I'm Japanese myself. Kira-Kira ( a Japanese onomatopoeia/mimetic word meaning 'sparkling' ) was a tearjerker, yes, but it also made me look out into the world and at my own identity with a much kinder lens. I fell in love with my own name ( which is the mimetic word for 'smile' --- niko-niko ) all over again. And I think, for that, it makes the list.

Honestly, I'm not sure these are my favorites. They're just the ones that come to my mind when I think about reading and liking literature in general. I'm sure if I was an English major or a CompLit major ( or if I was feeling particularly pretentious today ), I'd have more to say about them in terms of actual 'quality' or about their themes, but I don't.

I also want to say thank you so much for reaching out and asking this!! it's been so fun ( especially since I just got done writing a mind-boggling mess of a chapter for TSP hehe ). I really enjoyed talking to you the first time around and now that you're here on tumblr!!! I hope we can interact more I'd really love to be friends :,) <3 tysm agh. I hope you're having the loveliest of days. niko <3

[applesandbannas747]

for the ask game: 6 for dead hearts and sinew&bone, 12 (sorry had to), and 17 👀

For this ask game! Thanks so much for playing <3

6. What’s one fact about the universe of a fic that you didn’t get a chance to mention in the fic itself?

Dead Hearts:

oooo probably Warlock stuff. I really love the concept of wizards, witches, and warlocks all being Different, nongendered, things instead of gendered and/or interchangeable names (I blame Septimus Heap for that one). Anyway, warlocks in Dead Hearts have a special connection to magic because while witches' magic connects them to the earth, warlocks are so much a part of the earth that magic flows directly from it through them--it's also what makes them able to read others' magic (like Eugene did to Jesse's) because they're a conduit for magic and connection as much as the earth itself is, so their magic is sort of...everyone's magic. It's a stream always flowing through them as opposed to a witch's bottomless lake. (Wizards might harness magic artificially, though I didn't completely flesh out that thought--a wizard is probably what Nick would have been during his first life, because his magic was being pulled from an outside source, and what Eugene was trying to do--and eventually succeeded in doing was open Nick to the flow of magic warlocks experience).

I wrote up a bunch more lore and realized that it would be a shame to share it in case I ever wanted to write about it, which means my dumb brain has probably decided it does want to write the theoretical eugesse spin-off at some point. so stay tuned for that in like 3 years i guess XD

Sinew & Bone:

So! When Nick sees Jesse in Eugene's room, they immediately recognize each other as pack. Nick had previously commented to Eugene to leave whatever werewolf he's sleeping with because it's obviously he's stressed all the time now and his scent is all mixed with wolf. The reason Nick didn't know then that Eugene's wolf was Jesse is that his brain filtered the possibility out. The scent was Eugene, Family, Wolf, and Nick immediately assigned the family association to Eugene completely on accident and with no recognition that he even smelled that on Eugene because his subconscious sees Eugene as family, so he didn't register anything amiss with Eugene's scent in that regard. So all he picked up from Eugene that was out of place was a random shifter's scent.

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you?

oh man i fEEEL like there was a specific trope I immediately had in mind for this one but because I waited so long to answer, I literally can't remember anymore.

Perhaps song fics? I hate reading them but have ended up writing several tangential fics that DO quote song lyrics in them jfdsah Really I'm just a hypocrite. I'll come back if i ever remember my real answer??

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

oh man so many honestly. and like. I do it pretty regularly XD but two super specific and indulgent aus that genuinely no one but me and, like, one other specific person would read are:

1) characters somehow getting swapped with older/younger versions of themselves. For example, 25 year old Nick swapping places with 16 year old Nick and remembering what a dick baby Seiji was to him, while 16 year old Nick's trying to fight with a 25 year old Seiji. I like versions where it's just mind swapped and versions where it's whole body as well (those are fun for the oh no he's hot moment they come with). Fun fact, my original idea for the 'childhood' prompt in the 30 Day Fence Challenge was 17 or so Nick swapping out minds with 12 year old Nick but I couldn't make it work the way I wanted it to in the time I had to write it so it got shelved

2) the Ultimate self-indulgence of MAXIMUM cringe level but aus where a pre-get-together ship's future kid somehow gets dumped back in time and seeks out their parent/s and they're like what do you mEAN I married him?!?! and yes i do have a specific scenario for both Eugesse and Nichoji fics of this variety and if I had time to fit them in my writing schedules, y'all would have to suffer months of irrelevant content from me uwu

[taegularities]

ive just finished reading a book that shattered my heart into infinite pieces and i am not even joking a bit. i knew that the book was as good once i started crying and tears never stopped. i think 70% of that book was me crying. now i have swollen eyelids lol. i never cried so much over something since i watched Hachiko the movie. like real sob, sounds coming out from my mouth, the real hurting package thing :(

now i need another book as beautiful as this one. and i don’t think i would recovered from this one yet. she even mentionned one direction’s songs to describe the relationship between the two mc. i am fucking torn. oh btw the book is « a thousand boy kisses » by Tillie Cole. have you ever heard about it?

have you any recommendations? also i am debating myself to buy a kindle. although i do like the idea of paper book, idk. i spend most of my nights reading ff to be honest but since last month i can’t find any that is why i switch back to « real » book again. although i think i missed a lot of your series too i have to read them.

that made me think, is there any books that made you to start writing? how did you find telling yourself that you wanted to write? would you considered it as an hobbie or a passion? pardon me if you had already answered those questions in the past too. in that book i’ve read, author was talking a lot about passion and made me realize that besides piano - i am unfortunately not really into it anymore - i don’t have any. like isn’t it beautiful to say that we had something to hold on, to escape? i miss that..

i talked a lot today lol i am so sorry. oh and if any of your followers as any book recommandations (not ff too), i take!!! 🤎

oh gosh, babe.. have you recovered from it yet? i know that feeling so well. some stories just stay with us and are hard, if not impossible to forget. i know it hurts, but i'm also glad you found a book you could enjoy the way you did. i haven't heard of it, by the way! but just googled it, and it sounds beautiful. soulmate au :(

i wish i could rec stories, but i think it's genuinely been years since i read a proper book. i know 'me before you' and its sequel made me cry :') definitely get that kindle if you've been reading a lot these days! i do prefer paperback, too, but i get the appeal of an e-book.

yeah, honestly, that's gonna sound extremely mainstream, but books that made me write were john green's stories, the novel 'every day' by david levithan and (okay, don't laugh pls lol), but ed sheeran's songs. there's beauty in all those – a lot of talk of love and the stars, of soft and sweet things. which is probably why my writing ended up the way it is today? but i've always written tbh… i enjoyed reading and at some point, i started a random ass story back when i was 13 or so (it was horrible) and then wrote my first stuff in english when i started this blog. i wanted to try it out. play with words, see if i'm any good at it? and yeah, now i'm kinda in love with it and trying to be better every day <3 so i'd say it's both a hobby and a passion. truly an activity i enjoy the most.

it's beautiful to have something like this, true. i hope you find your passion, too <3 and tbh, i'm so grateful you asked all that? bc i love talking about these things.. like what, you're actually interested in me and getting to know me?? i'll blush lol :') love you <3