#as it has for something like the last year and a half
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being unable to keep their eyes off of them please??
Eddie wants to get the hell out of here.
He feels kind of bad about it, because Bobby and Athena throw a great barbecue, and any other day of the week he’d love to grab a beer and settle in for as long as they’ll have him. Any other day of the year, really—
Just not the same day Buck kissed him.
He’d always imagined that if he ever scraped enough resolve together to try something with Buck, it would happen in the heat of the moment. After a close call on a rescue, maybe, or at a bar after a shift sometime, when he has just enough alcohol in him to push past the nagging doubts in his mind.
He’d always imagined that if anything ever happened, it would be because he took that first step. He could, when he was feeling hopeful, imagine Buck would be into it, but it had never even crossed his mind that Buck might want him enough to be the one to cross the invisible line between friends and something more.
Only—
Two hours ago, he stood in the firehouse parking lot and watched Buck pace and forth in the artificially bright glow of a streetlamp for all of thirty seconds before drawing to a stop right in front of him, toe to toe across the faded outline of a parking space.
“I’m going to do something,” Buck said, the warmth of his exhale ghosting across Eddie’s skin. “And you can tell me if I’m wrong. But—” he hooked one finger in the belt loop of Eddie’s jeans, tugging slightly, and the movement danced like lightning down Eddie’s spine.
“—I don’t think I’m wrong.”
And he tugged on the belt loop again, pulling Eddie closer into his space, and pressed his mouth to Eddie’s.
It seemed to last a lifetime, and it was over far too soon. Buck pulled back, careful, drawing a ragged breath, and Eddie leaned into chase him and found Buck grinning against his lips.
“Not wrong, then?” Buck murmured, and it took Eddie a moment to remember what Buck had said just before.
“Definitely not wrong,” he breathed. The words were half-lost in Buck’s mouth but he must have understood them anyway, because he laughed, bright and clear, before pushing Eddie up against the car behind him to kiss him again.
It was only when Buck’s phone rang, vibrating in his pocket so that Eddie felt it against his own thigh, that they remembered the barbecue. And that they’d promised to bring ice.
So now Eddie’s here, and for the first time he can remember he desperately wants to leave.
He and Buck hadn’t really talked about it, so he’s trying to act normal. Which is to say he’s trying to act like he doesn’t want to walk across Bobby and Athena’s backyard and grab Buck by the collar to drag him in for another kiss. Or to demand what the fuck it means.
He would describe himself as moderately successful.
But in Eddie’s defence, if the rest of them knew the situation he doesn’t think they could blame him for the way his eyes keep getting drawn to Buck no matter where he is, like the universe is shining a spotlight on him. It’s not his fault Buck’s laugh lights up the room and he can’t help but look.
It’s not his fault that Buck catches him looking, sometimes, and smiles a smile that says he’s thinking about what happened in the parking lot.
A smile that says he’s thinking about doing it again.
And it—well, maybe it is his fault when he grins back, his face trying to settle on something somewhere between wanting and bashful, but there are extenuating circumstances. He is, after all, only one man.
Overall, Eddie’s pretty sure nobody could blame him for the fact that he wants to get the hell out of here.
Just then, Hen sidles up to where he’s leaning against the kitchen island and settles in next to him, mirroring his position and crossing her arms.
“You should take your man home,” she says.
Eddie flushes, and she laughs.
“You’re not being particularly subtle,” she says. “Either of you. I don’t know what happened exactly—” she raises a hand when Eddie tries to open his mouth “—and I don’t need to know. But you should take him home before it happens again on Bobby and Athena’s patio.”
Eddie’s face feels so warm he’s surprised he can’t see cartoon heat lines wafting off his cheeks.
Hen laughs again, gentler this time. “No one’s judging you, Eddie,” she says, and nudges him with her elbow. “I remember what it was like in the beginning. So go, take him home. I know you want to.”
“I—yeah,” Eddie says, and lets himself grin. “I really do.”
He doesn’t need to look for Buck, because he already knows where he is. He makes his way across the room, through their gathered friends and family, and over to where Buck is talking to Chimney. His heartbeat hammers in his ears as he does it, but Hen said it was obvious anyway, so he takes a deep breath and stands behind Buck, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his chin on Buck’s shoulder.
“Hi,” Buck says, breathy with surprise but his cheeks pink with pleasure.
“Hen said I should take my man home,” Eddie says, and makes a concerted effort not to look at Chimney. He focuses instead on Buck’s cheek against his, and the way it crinkles when he smiles.
“Did she?” Buck says. “I guess we should listen to the captain, then.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” Eddie murmurs. They slip through the room, and Eddie tries to avoid Hen’s knowing look as they duck out of the front door without bothering with goodbyes.
As soon as the door closes, Eddie grabs Buck by the hips and pushes him against it, crowding into his space. “This is all I’ve been thinking about all night.”
“It’s only been two hours,” Buck says.
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot longer than two hours,” Eddie says, and watches Buck’s eyes go dark. Then he grins. “Besides, do you want to nitpick, or do you want to kiss me?”
“I can multitask,” Buck says, and Eddie laughs and kisses him for it, and for a moment the world narrows to just the two of them, wrapped up in each other against Bobby’s front door.
“Actually,” Buck murmurs, a moment or three later, when Eddie’s forehead rests against Buck’s and both their breaths come a little heavy. “I wanna change my answer.”
“Yeah?” Eddie asks. “To what?”
“I want you to take me home.”
send me a blossoming romance prompt 🌸
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hi hi hi can i please get a percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite reader?? basically she’s all about the love part of Aphrodite and she’s talking about it constantly and he’s her friend and kinda realises like oh wait i’m in love w her
does that make sense?? also can i get a moodboard w it?? <33
thank you and ily!
💌┊₊˚⊹꒷ BROOKLYN BABY .ᐟ
⤷ percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite!reader ‧₊˚ ⋅
ᝰ. 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 . . . percy jackson and the heroes of olympus
ᝰ. 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬 . . . y/n constantly yaps about the idea of love to her best friend, percy, and he realises he has feelings for her. (annie’s y/n’s close friend too! i’m too nice to make her an angry b </3) ft. best friends to lovers, minor gods dissing (like one time), y/n reading the cruel prince (not directly mentioned), percy having an ‘uh oh, i’m in love’ moment, and a book bouquet. p.s. moodboard at the end!
ᝰ. 𝐤𝐞𝐲 . . . y/n: your name | y/l/n: your last name | n/n: nickname
ᝰ. 𝐰𝐜 . . . 1.4k
ᝰ. 𝐚/𝐧 . . . hdkwjdkw 1/8 asks complete lmao. this req was so cute!! I love reading the ‘moment of realisation’ dialogues in books, but it was especially fun to write it for the first time. it was a little weird to write only bc i’m a cabin 3 kid irl but it’s okay 😭 for the sake of a fluffy fic, I powered through, guys <3
2 years ago . . .
✮⋆˙ y/n’s pov
“some kid killed a minotaur!” a hermes cabin demigod yelled from near the dining pavilion. glancing up from our glasses of soda, annabeth and I turned towards the voice. “he’s a new one!”
we looked at each other, wondering which god couldn’t keep it in their pants again.
suddenly, a few apollo kids ran out from the infirmary towards the arch near thalia’s tree.
“the new kid’s probably clumsy,” annabeth said.
“he killed a minotaur,” I shot back.
“hey, you can be dumb and strong at the same time.”
“uh huh. whose child do you think he is? I bet it’s one of the big three.” I said.
“no way, they have a pact, remember-”
“do you really think they actually follow that, annie?” I snickered at her.
in a while, an unconscious boy about their age was carried into the infirmary. I only caught sight of his black hair, and dishevelled and bloody look. I decided to visit him the next day to check up on his condition.
the rest of the day was spent reading in my cabin, while my sisters tried new makeup products on our brother, which was quite funny, really.
throughout the next week, I left the warmth of my bed to visit the new kid—percy jackson—in the infirmary. he had begun to regain consciousness.
“who are you?” he asked, sharply inhaling a breath.
“oh, hey,” I smiled at him. “i’m y/n y/l/n. daughter of aphrodite.”
“right. daughter of aphrodite. a goddess,” he repeated slowly.
I realised that no one had explained about camp half-blood to him yet, and took that job upon myself after calling out for will and letting him know that his patient was awake.
“so, there’s gods and goddesses. and monsters. and everything in the greek myths you were taught? they’re all real. at camp half-blood, we’re all demigods—the children of a god or goddess and a mortal.” I continued to explain to him how the demigod world worked, remembering to talk about the mist, the gods, the cabins, and everything else.
I expected him to not believe me, and call me names (like the other new campers) for lying, but he took it like a champ. he nodded at me, sitting up properly, and asked for something so his arm would stop paining. I immediately got will to help him.
the next week, when I was out by the beach, reading my romance novel about a mortal girl and a faerie prince falling in love after being enemies, I heard sand shifting around behind me.
“who-” I turned around.
“hey, y/n, right?” percy asked, walking closer.
“ah, you remember,” I said, a smile growing on my face.
“well, yeah. you’re really just the only person who has spoken to me normally… and not like I was some intimidating and scary… thing,” he said, running his hands through his already dishevelled hair.
“come, sit down.” I patted the sand beside me. he took his place there, sitting down with his legs criss-crossed.
“what are you reading?” he asked.
I explained to him the plot, setting, characters, and everything about the book I was reading for the next few hours.
we sat there till dusk, watching the sun set into pretty hues of pink, purple, and orange.
“it’s so pretty, isn’t it?” I asked.
✮⋆˙ percy’s pov
“yeah, it is.” I replied to her, eyes fixed on her side profile.
wow. she’s so beautiful.
timeskip: present
“perce!” y/n called loudly, running towards me.
“heyyyy! n/n, you’re back! how was the quest? did you get hurt or anything?” I asked, hugging her, and then moving back to scan her for injuries.
“i’m fine, perce, all good. I got will to check me out and he cleared me,” she said, grinning. her face was swiped with dirt and grime, but she still looked like she was an ethereal princess who walked out of one of her books. “what? have I got a lot of dirt on my face?”
“nah, you’re cool. ‘s pretty.” I said, and she laughed—my favourite sound in the entire world. “and anyway, you need to change out of these clothes and meet me outside your cabin. I have something for you.”
“what is it?”
“that’s a surprise-”
“I hate surprises.”
“you’ll like this one,” I winked at her, as she laughed again.
timeskip
✮⋆˙ y/n’s pov
I changed into casual loose sweatpants and a shirt since it was summer.
ah, summer. one of most romantic seasons ever. the breeze whipping around a girl’s hair, as a boy runs towards her with flowers. the sunlight falling onto their faces as they share a kiss. watching the sun set in pretty shades everyday with each other. that was summer.
everything about it reminded me of percy. watching sunsets, seeing the sunlight fall on his face after he gets out of the water. the flowers, now dry, that he gifted me for every special occasion.
it was hard to admit that I liked him more than I would like any friend. i’d never picked up any hints from him, that might’ve signalled that he liked me, no matter how many of my siblings told me he did.
all friends hold hands, right? and all good friends wish each other a good morning and good night everyday. what was so special? the flowers?
“hey, n/n!” percy’s voice dragged me out of my thoughts. he was dressed in loose shorts and a hawaii button up, and my gods, he looked so gorgeous.
“perce! at least tell me where we’re going now,” I groaned.
“nuh-uh. a surprise is a surprise.” he brought out a blindfold and handed it to me. I raised my eyebrow at him. “put it on. i’ll take you there.”
“I swear to gods, if this turns out to be a prank-”
“shh, it won’t. now put it on,” he promised.
I walked closer to him and put on the blindfold, and he turned me around a few times to make sure I wouldn’t figure out where we’re going. I scoffed at his childish actions.
as he was standing behind me, I felt his warmth on my back. he took my arms at my side and urged me to walk ahead.
he manoeuvred me in different directions and finally stopped after a while.
“you ready, princess?” he asked. the nickname did something to cause butterflies in my stomach.
“yeah,” I whispered.
he took off the blindfold, and it was too bright for a second. I shielded my eyes and groaned, before letting them adjust to the harsh sunlight.
I looked around and saw a huge, fluffy blanket laid down on the grass of the fields. a basket with food was set in one corner and a bouquet in the centre.
specifically, a book bouquet.
“PERCY, HOW DID YO-”
“surprise,” he grinned, as I turned around and hugged him. he’d always given me gifts when I returned from quests, but this was, by far, the best.
“how’d you know all my favourites?” I asked, looking at the 10 romance novels on the blanket.
“oh, annie helped,” he said enthusiastically. “should we sit down and start eating? you can tell me all about the people in your books, and why you like romance books especially, yeah?”
smiling, we sat down on the blankets, and ate away with no care in the world.
✮⋆˙ percy’s pov
as she talked about her books for the next few hours, I could only think about how beautiful her brown eyes were, especially when the sunlight hit them at the correct angle. how soft her lips looked as her mouth moved at a faster pace than her thoughts. how perfect her cheeks were, smiling wide. how amazing she was. how smart and beautiful she was.
when did my feelings of friendship turn into love, for her?
as she continued to speak of the love between her favourite characters, I noticed her longing for a similar love. I could give that to her, couldn’t I?
wait. what? what am I even thinking? y/n’s my best friend.
“love is everywhere, in every gesture, every glance. it’s the thread that binds us together, connecting hearts across time and space,” she said.
and at that moment, I knew I was done for.
I was hopelessly in love with my best friend.
percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite — the love like in her books <3
taglist — @nuncscioquidsitamor-14 @mqstermindswift @puffoz @skeelly @urmomabby @sunnitheapollokid @jgracie @canonfeminine @cinemaconrad @totokyo @urbanflorals @aezuria @thetunnelunderoceanboulevard @cherigall @percabethluvr @pjoverseluvr @maybxlle @mershellscape @riordanness @starlitszn @metyouattherighttime @a-beautiful-fool @sequinsnstars @ssparksflyy @fayvpor @iheartgirlzn
#skye's cafe ~ ⋆.˚#skye.jpg🧸—#𝜗𝜚 skye's asks#percy jackson the man that you are#ngl every pjo and hoo bf is so book bouquet coded#I love percy sm tho#such. A. CUTIE.#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson x y/n#daughter of aphrodite#pjo#percy jackson and the olympians#pjo fanfic#oneshot#pjo one shot#percy jackson one shot
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Workin Boys was literally the only thing that saved Hidgens from being flanderized beyond recognition
(Spoilers for Workin' Boys)
So what I think a lot of people don't give much thought to is how much Professor Hidgens as a character has evolved since tgwdlm, essentially becoming a parody of himself.
Think of Hidgens as a character. What are his defining traits?
Did you think about how he is a doomsday prepper who has been stockpiling supplies for 20 years? Because that's how he's introduced in Guy.
Did you try think about how he has a weird relationship with his Alexa? Or did we forget about that?
In fact, for the majority of TGWDLM, Hidgens' main character trait is that he says weird shit with a Doc Brown voice.
The whole concept of Workin Boys isn't even introduced until the last half hour of the show. That's where he reveals his real motivation: to live out the musical he wrote as a young man.
Actually, no, that's not right. Because his motivation was world peace, and Workin Boy's was just a convenient means to that end.
I won't disregard the fact that Hidgens clearly has an emotional connection to the show, but in Guy, it serves as a punchline rather than a driving force.
So now we have this lovely, morally-grey, multi-layered character that we can work with.
By the time we get to Time Bastard, the fandom is expecting a show stopping number reference, so of course we get that.
But at this point, Hidge is still that multi-layered character. Sure, showstopping number gets a callback, but we also get a callback to his strange relationship with robots. They make up an equal part of him as a character.
By the time we get to Honey Queen, we have lost several aspects of Hidgens altogether. He is no longer a doomsday-believing recluse. He is now active in the community and his only motivation is to get his show funded. He brings it up at every chance he gets, and his loyalties lie with whoever is more likely to make Workin Boys happen.
So how the hell do we come back from this?
Well, at first it seems like we're not going to. Workin' Boys (the short film) comes out, and it looks like we're leaning even harder into this aspect of his personality than before. But then we get hit with something we're not expecting: Hidge gets the Ted Spankoffski treatment.
I'm referring to Ted's backstory in Time Bastard, where we learn that all of his actions actually stem from a single, traumatic moment, which in his eyes forced him to alter his behaviour, so as to not go through the same trauma again.
Can you see where I'm going with this?
The backstory we get from Hidgens certainly puts things in perspective. No, it's not enough to explain why his behaviour has been so laser-focused on this one show, but it's a start.
Then comes the part that changes everything.
It's left up to interpretation whether these ghosts Hidge is seeing are actually there, or just hallucinations, but that doesn't really matter.
Hidgens had been through a horrible experience, so traumatizing that he is still literally being haunted by it decades later. For one reason or another, he believes that the only way he can relieve himself of these ghosts is by bringing honor to the loved ones he's lost and telling their stories.
This reveal recontextualizes everything we know about Hidgens as a character. Suddenly, this isn't a story about some guy who just really wants to put on his musical, this is a story about guilt. Of course it would be the driving factor in his life. Look at him apologizing to his boys. He feels like he is slandering their memories with everything that goes wrong for the show.
This is supported even more with the ending.
Henry Hidgens dies with a smile on his face, believing he's finally achieved his goal: to tell the real story of what happened that night.
It finally makes sense as to why we've lost those parts of him--we've retconned the character by revealing that all that simplification of his goals and traits wasn't flanderization at all, but a steady downward spiral of grief over his loved ones. It wasn't Hidgens getting a little too into being a playwrite, it was him descending into madness caused by the inability to please the part of himself (or the literal ghosts, if that's how you interpret it) that believes he's not doing enough.
And if not for Workin' Boys, he would have remained that one-dimensional character.
#starkid#hatchetfield#npmd#tgwdlm#hatchetverse#team starkid#professor hidgens#henry hidgens#jeff blim#nightmare time#nightmare time 2#nmt#nmt2#character analysis#analysis#rose rabbles#honey queen#time bastard#the guy who didn't like musicals
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Make a Home Out of Hurt
Rating: General
CW: Death of a Grandparent, Mourning
Tags: Post-Season 4, Post Canon, Grief/Mourning, Established Relationship, Alternate Universe — Future Fic, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Sad Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has Absent Parents, Steve Harrington Mom is Okay, Steve Harrington's Dad is an Asshole, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Moving in Together
Had an evil little thought. Also, all these Fenton bunnies I mention are real! My nana collects Fenton. (She's alive, don't worry, but I thought about her the other day and it spiraled into this.)
🏡—————🏡
We’ve already seen this neighborhood, Eddie thinks, but won’t say.
Even though they have. They’ve driven by the same three houses. Yellow, pastel pink, and navy blue. White door, white door, brown door. Bushes and bushes and a bushel of red roses. One garage, no garage, no garage but large driveway. He’s seen them. Over and over and over.
And each time they pass the last one, the leather of the steering wheel squeaks. And each time, Steve makes a muffled sort of noise. And each time, Eddie wonders if resting his hand on Steve’s shaking shoulders would anger him or mellow him. And each time, the car gets just a little slower as Steve loses his control more and more.
We’ve already seen this neighborhood, Eddie continues to think, but knows he’ll sit here with those words. He’ll sit in the passenger seat. Window cranked as far down as it’ll go—half-way since Dustin busted the actual mechanism. Beemer’s been through a lot, so it’ll be here for Steve’s end all breakdown, too. With the radio volume low, playing the same double-sided tape on repeat, flipped by Eddie because Steve’s hands have been shaking: The World We Knew by Frank Sinatra. Because it was her favorite. Nana’s favorite. Nana Harrington’s favorite.
On the fifth drive through, Steve finally parks the car. At the end of the long, slow winding driveway. He looks out the windshield, hollowed and not quite here. With limp hands in his lap. Messy, greasy hair he couldn’t bother to style. Eye bags so heavy, Eddie barely believes he can hold them on his face.
Eddie can follow his line of sight. To the edge of the white picket fence, worn down a little with age, scratched up from the curled nails of an old brown dog, carved with her son and daughter-in-law’s initials, and eventually stained with yellow handprints from baby Steve. Yellow because, as Steve has echoed, “Lello, Nana. Lello like your dress. Your favorite!” Well, Steve’s favorite too, he just won’t acknowledge it’s because of his nana. Eddie knows that the paint has faded a bit since then, given that it’s been fifteen years since Steve’s had hands that small, but Eddie can see him. In his little white and red striped t-shirt, hidden by a pair of nicely pressed denim overalls, white sneakers, and his mom’s bobby pins in his hair—something she did because it just wouldn’t stop growing so fast and thick. Or so Eddie’s been told.
He’s been told a lot in the last week. Since the call came through the landline of their apartment. Since Steve had gone silent and collapsed to his knees and wailed, screamed even. Since he dressed himself in a suit that fit well, but looked out of place on his curled in body. Since…since the obituary was finally in his hands at the funeral, and he got so sick in the church’s restroom, Eddie had to drive them home in a daze—a quarter worried, a quarter tired, and half hanging by a thread. He thinks he’s heard everything, but what is love if not more than everything? If not all the words in every language, all known objects and unknown, every species and race and sexuality and identities combined?
He’ll hear everything. Until their old and grey and forgetting everything.
“There used to be a tire swing on that tree,” Steve states flatly, pointing at the weeping oak in his nana’s front yard. It’s crooked like it’s been kissed by the wind. A lot withering because the weather’s been harsh on her. Grey against the navy blue of the house’s siding.
I know, sweetheart, Eddie wants to say, so soft it gets lost between them. Instead, “Yeah? Bet it was a good tire, too,” he coaxes, still soft, all sweet. Even if he’s heard it each time they’ve passed by.
Steve nods once in his peripheral. Sniffs. “Yeah,” he states wetly, “one of the expensive ones. She didn’t want it to pop under me. Didn’t…She didn’t want me to stop using it.” His head dips down, looking at his fingers, where they’ve begun to absently trace the seams of his jeans. “I stopped,” he whispers shamefully. “You think she got mad because I stopped?”
“No, baby,” Eddie answers honestly. “I think that she was happy you used it at all. Think she was always just happy to see you, Steve.”
A sharp intake of breath next to him. “I used to come over here when my parents were gone. Or when they’d scream at each other. Or when…when they’d forget I existed,” he relays, quiet as a mouse. “When they’d forget, Nana would open the door and kiss my cheek and make me something to eat. I was always too skinny. So she made me casseroles,” he explains, a wisp of a smile. Gone in the blink of an eye. “She’ll never make ‘em again, though. She won’t—”
“Steve,” Eddie calls gently, a small warning. A siren before the tsunami.
“—Love me again,” Steve sobs, “Nana won’t love me again.”
“Oh, baby,” he breathes. Eddie steps out of the car, rounds over to the driver’s side, and yanks the door open. Carefully, he unbuckles Steve, scoots him so that his legs dangle over the side, and pulls him down into a gentle hug. “Baby,” he coos. “Just get it out, honey. I’m right here. We’re right here. I’ve got you.”
And Steve cries. Again; though Eddie’s lost count. He squirms against Eddie’s chest. Head nestled to his neck. Crying big sounds that sound too large, even for his adult body. Sounds that carry boats, that poison with oil spills, that home orcas. He slobbers onto Eddie’s skin, grand globs of hot spit that gargle in his throat before launching from his mouth. His unshaved stubble scratching at the side of Eddie’s face—where his skin is sensitive and smooth and will most definitely be raw with Steve’s aching.
He sobs until there’s no more tears. Until he’s a whimpering, shivering mess on Eddie’s chest. Bunched up and small and fisting Eddie’s t-shirt like a lifeline. Squeezing the fabric in his hands like two lemons.
Eddie runs his hands up and down Steve’s spine. From the small of his back to his hunched shoulders, squishing him. He sways them ever so gently like the rustle of the old oak tree. Hums something incoherent and unrecognizable. If only to get Steve to stop shaking.
“Eds?”
“Hm?”
He takes a long, slow breath. Breathes out, “Why’d she give me the house?”
Eddie pulls them apart. One hand on the middle of Steve’s back, the other cupping his left cheek. Swiping at the tacky tracks from his tears. “I’m not sure, baby. Maybe she loved you so much that she wanted you to have it? To always be safe there?”
“Shouldn’t she have given it to my dad? I don’t…” Steve’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion, his mouth frowning. “I don’t deserve her house?”
“Sweetheart,” Eddie sighs. “She chose you for a reason. You, Stevie. Not anybody else. Just you. If she wanted to give it to her son, she would’ve. But she didn’t. She thought of you, put you in the will, and now it’s yours.” When Steve doesn’t respond, Eddie gives him his moment of silence. Running his palm up to Steve’s shoulders. Pressing his thumb into his supple skin. “You may never know her intent, but she probably had a reason. It was a home you came running to, where you felt safest, where you felt…loved. Grandmothers always have this air to them, like they just know things about you before you say ‘em. Maybe she just knew you needed her and her space before you even realized.”
Steve sniffles. His eyes are still wet. Bloodshot and tired. Rumpled all the way around, exhausted and quiet. “She used to play with me in the yard.”
I know, Eddie thinks once more. He goes with the topic change though, if that’s what Steve needs.
“And when we played hide and seek, she always made sure to look until I was found. Because she didn’t want me to feel forgotten, her words.” Steve’s fingers are fidgeting with one another again. Picking at his fingernails, peeling at hangnails. Eddie moves down and takes them, rubbing soothing circles into their backs, just so Steve doesn’t harm himself on top of everything. Steve continues, hushed, “When I’d stay the night, she would sleep with me. Hold me close to her. Scratch my back and scalp and tell me stories…all the way until I fell asleep.”
“Kinda like I do, huh?” Eddie asks.
Steve nods. “Yeah,” he croaks. “Think that’s why I feel so loved and safe with you.”
And Eddie hasn’t cried, not really, not yet. But this may be it. Because he knows, beyond everything, that Nana was special to Steve—so special that just one negative comment, one complaint, one little fuss about her was enough to get you shunned by him. He’s seen it play out with Dustin, he’d been banned from coming over for two weeks. And with El, who didn’t understand quite yet, but had lost conversational abilities with Steve for two whole days—ergo, the Silent Treatment.
This means something. It means everything. Eddie kind of wants to cry about it.
But he reigns himself in for now. Because Steve needs him like water. For somebody to just be there and be present and be patient. Through it all.
“You wanna head inside,” Eddie offers, “I’ve got the key in my pocket.” He gestures loosely to the inside of his vest, the safest pocket near his heart. When Steve nods, Eddie leads them inside silently. Opens the door first, per request made by Steve days prior. Sets his shoes by the front door—not told to, but just out of respect. Hangs up his jacket, his vest. Takes Steve’s jacket, too. Unties his Nike sneakers. Smacks a quick kiss to his cheek. And then he waits by the front door for Steve to say or do something.
The first thing he does is gasp. Eyes roaming the hallway, the living room, and the fireplace that connects the kitchen and living space together. He takes a few tentative steps before stopping in front of a tall, full China cabinet.
“Her Fenton bunnies,” Steve breathes.
Eddie slowly approaches behind him. Wraps an arm around his waist, tugging him into his side a little. “Are these the ones your mom was talking about on the phone?”
“Yeah. I just…Didn’t think my mom was telling the truth,” Steve murmurs. “She told me Dad didn’t want these. Takes up room or whatever. But they’re so pretty here, how could you not want these?” His left hand reaches for the knob of the cabinet. Twisting it gently as to not rattle the glass shelves. With the doors swung open, the bunnies under the cabinet’s lighting are free to touch. And so Steve picks one up, carefully in his hands like it’s alive. Maybe it is, Eddie thinks for a moment, alive with her spirit.
He breathes silently by Steve as he investigates the glass item in his hand. Running his thumbs over the ears. Down the smooth back.
“Satin glass,” Steve states, “It’s like touching the fabric, which is so weird. Nana used to talk about it all the time, but I never believed her. She never let me touch. You wanna?” He holds the bunny up to Eddie’s face. In offering, for him to pet. So he runs a slow thumb down its back. And sure enough, soft as silk, cold to the touch. “All of them are here.” He replaces the silk, purple bunny on the shelf. Picking up a chromatic shifting one next. “Carnival glass,” Steve explains, “it’s heavier than the other one, feels like. But so shiny. Think Nana used to say it was amethyst or something, but that might be what the color shift is called?”
“You sure listened to her well,” Eddie murmurs, “know a lot about this.”
Steve chuckles, a little choked to Eddie’s ears but he makes no comment. “Yeah, I guess I did. Mom used to say that I had selective hearing. That I listened when it was something I cared about.”
“And you cared a lot about Nana,” Eddie concludes.
“Yeah,” Steve whispers, “cared a lot about Nana.” He sets the carnival glass bunny back on the shelf. Standing idle in front of it all, taking it all in. “She has one upstairs, in a different glass cabinet. It glows green under the special blacklight upstairs. Said it was radioactive.” He chuckles again. “I gave her that one. As a gift for Mother’s Day in…I think ’77? Mom helped me pick it out—she was nice about the bunnies, about finding this stuff. She loved Nana, too. And she…” He laughs low in his chest and Eddie blossoms a little at the sound, unheard in so long. “Mom would pull out the long box of tissue paper and gift bags from the crawlspace. She’d unfold the prettiest gift bag—this one was a little brown one, covered in peach colored peonies. Stuffed some off-white tissue paper in that one. Wrapped the little yellow—well, it was supposed to be yellow—Fenton bunny in bubble wrap, covered it up with a bunch of caramels. Gave it to Nana, and she squealed! Apparently, she already knew it was radioactive? Thought it was the best gift ever. Which, ouch Nana, I gave you other bunnies for Mother’s Day, c’mon.”
Eddie snorts. “Maybe that’s what earned you the house? That radioactive bunny was probably the key to her heart,” he jokes. Though his stomach turns at the possibility it wasn’t appropriate to make.
Steve laughs loudly, though. Shaking his entire body with it. He slips his hand into Eddie’s back right pocket, sighs, and leans against him relaxed. “Dad should’a tried harder if he wanted Nana’s heart,” he comments, “all it took was a damn bunny.”
“Among other things, I’m sure.”
“Probably,” Steve sighs. “I think she was just excited to have a grandkid. She had a weird relationship with my dad. They didn’t get along very well. So maybe she was sorta…trying again?”
“Stevie, I think she just loved you. There doesn’t have to be some grand, deep meaning behind it. I think she just loved your company. How your laugh fills a room and your smile is seen from across the yard. And how you’re always polite, despite having reasons to not be. Maybe because of your terrible puns and how awful you are at quoting Shakespeare? You charm everybody, Steve,” Eddie monologues. “There’s not a reason to not love you.”
For a moment, the room falls completely silent. Distantly, there’s the slow tick of a wall clock. A few birds singing out in the backyard, where the bird bath probably is—only known through Steve’s memories. A slight hum from the radiator. The cars passing by on the main road just around the corner. Hawkins is quiet when there’s mourning; maybe it’s felt through the whole town, through the soles of Steve’s socked feet, from the beating of his ever love absorbent heart.
She died November 7th, 1993. Just a few days ago. Maybe it’s the anniversary of Will Byers going missing that Hawkins is feeling. Maybe it’s just tragedy. It’s love persevering—even in the most dire of situations. Where Joyce Byers was screaming about where her son may be, all those mismatched theories, and the ways in which the town thought she was crazy—even when they believed her and cried over her son’s body being pulled from the water. Where Will is actually thriving now. Where Sandra Harrington no longer is, though she was a fixture in several communities and families, Steve’s own being included.
“How’s your boy doing?” Wayne asked the day after her funeral. Eddie had shrugged, admitting he wasn’t sure because Steve had gone terribly quiet and sick. “Tell him I’m sorry. That he has a home with us. That he can come over and cry and I’ll make him hot cocoa. Alright, Ed?”
God, even Wayne knew. And there was silence after his condolences.
There is so much silence.
Until, finally, Steve asks, “Will you live with me here?”
“Wh—What?” Because surely he didn’t hear that right.
“Live with me here,” Steve repeats, a little more urgent. “I don’t think I can handle this place alone. And…I know how to use her gas stove. I can make you the spaghetti dish she used to make. And the casseroles she used to bake. We can open up her recipe box and I’ll teach you how to make her apple pie—the one she gave me for your birthday two years ago?
“And we can read your Lord of The Rings books on the porch on the bench she has out there? Grill in the backyard when we have everybody over. Robin can have the room that used to be my nursery. We can…We can live our lives here.”
Stunned, Eddie gapes momentarily. Before gripping harder at Steve’s waist, drawing him closer even when there’s no more room. Two solid bodies connected from shoulder to foot. “Are you sure, Steve? You don’t wanna—“
“You’re my family, Eds. I have loved you since that bullshit in ’86. We have seen each other through our absolute worst. Of course I’m sure. Of course I want you here,” Steve swears. “I know what I’m getting into. Even if it hurts to look around here right now. But you’ve been here by me through one of the worst heartbreaks I’ve ever experienced. I want you here—preferably always.”
“Stevie,” Eddie breathes. He reaches out with his free hand and cups the right side of Steve’s face. Swipes over his glistening cheekbone. Under his shadow beaten eye. The tickling brush of Steve’s bottom eyelashes on the tip of his thumb. And he kisses him tenderly, with every word he could ever imagine to say, all emotion he could ever feel, with an intensity seen in atomic bombs. He pulls back to see Steve’s eyes closed. Flushed and bright in the cabinet’s full white lighting, doors still open, and fragile glass bunnies as witnesses. Promises, “I want to, Steve. I want to be here with you. Through it. All of it. As long as I get to love you.”
And on his thumb there are fresh tears, gone cold but skin scalding. Steve’s lips trembling with silent cries. His eyelashes fluttering. Him and him and him. Beautiful and raw and open. Gentle like flowers and strong like wind. Aching and romantic and with a heart the size of the universe itself. Because Steve Harrington is everything—
Or so his nana has said. But Steve doesn’t know. And that’s Eddie’s own secret.
“Okay,” Steve mutters, “make a home with me, Ed.”
🏡—————🏡
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tuesday tidbit
was tagged by @chobani-flip to post a tidbit of what i'm working on rn and happened to be writing in my notes app at the time sO,, the beginning of a bucktommy/madney double date fic coming up!!
“Thanks for doing this,” Evan says, for about the hundredth time, as they turn the corner onto Maddie and Howie’s street. Tommy’s driving, so Evan’s looking at himself in the rear-view and fretting with his collar, like somehow the fate of their dinner hangs on whether his denim jacket lays entirely flat or not. At first glance, Evan can come across so confident and upbeat, but it hasn’t taken long for Tommy to discover how adorably neurotic he is beneath the surface.
“Of course,” Tommy tells him, feeling that familiar tinge of fond amusement he’s becoming accustomed to in Evan’s presence. “It’s not like it’s a hardship to have dinner with my boyfriend, an old friend and his wife, you know?”
“I mean — his wife is my sister so it's — it’s a bit more complicated than that!”
“I already met her at the wedding,” Tommy points out. Evan points out the right house to him, and Tommy pulls the car into park on the street outside. “And that went fine. Unless you think she’s decided I’m actually some kind of horrible monster in the last few weeks?”
“I mean, she, uh, she did see that hickey you left on me, so she might think you’re a vampire now.“ Tommy turns to glare at him — this is a fight they’ve been having for a week and a half, Tommy certain he’s far too long past his teenage years to have accidentally left a hickey on Evan without noticing and it must have been a bruise or something, Evan gleefully having paraded it around regardless — but when he turns, Evan’s grinning at him. Tommy instantly caves on his fake annoyance. It’s the most relaxed Evan has looked since Tommy turned up to collect him an hour ago.
“It’s gonna be a fun evening, Evan,” Tommy says. He reaches out, smoothes down an errant wave of Evan’s hair. “Stop worrying. I know Maddie's the most important person in your life; I'm gonna love her."
idk who to tag but if anyone wants to do this, blanket statement to say i tagged u !!
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𐙚 synopsis: after losing consciousness in a villain attack, you wake up 2 and a half years later in the hospital. the time doesn't feel long to you, so adjusting to the new updates takes you by surprise. like your boyfriend of 2 years, izuku midoriya, apologizing that he found love elsewhere, in your best friend ochaco uraraka. you find refuge and comfort in your old friend todoroki, who visited you everyday you were out. does new love blossom or do you fight for midoriya back?
𐙚 pairing: midoriya x afab!reader x todoroki
𐙚 warnings:: mild violence, cursing, cheating?, love triangle-ish, angst to fluff, slow burn, friends to lovers, depression, nonchalant reader but over thinker, reader struggles expressing emotions, characters are 22
𐙚 readers quirk: poison arrow. can appear a bow and produce arrows that are ingested with poison that can temporarily paralyze or slow down the movement of who was shot. effects lasts roughly 20 minutes but depending on the victim, possible to move but will be slowed down. quirk allows the reader to have sharp sight, and can see farther and more clearer than most. reader has to train to shoot arrows more accurately. strength of poison depends on readers emotions. hero name: artemis.
𐙚 a/n: slow writer </3 3.9k words & might include typos, i finished this at 4:45 am lolz. link to join tag list is at the bottom!
┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° m.list ! ┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° mha m.list ! ┊ love again
you remember sitting in your u.a. classroom in your final year, ochako around your arm while giggles left the slip of her mouth laughing at iida’s antics. his stiff arms flailing around the place as he scolded bakugo yet again, red eyes full of irritation and annoyance.
“something’s about this class will never get old!” you laughed as well, holding onto your bestfriend. she agreed, slowly pulling you to the hallway as the lunch bell rang, waiting outside the door for iida and another.
you remember loving your class. loving your homeroom teacher. loving the lunch meals, loving the thrill of training. but most importantly, you loved the flirtatious glances across the room from bright green eyes, the soft pink hue of his cheeks dusting over his freckles, a nervous smile paired with a wave. you loved eating lunch with him, sitting beside him while your knees touched. you loved visiting his dorm room late at night to play games on his switch. you loved going on dates around the city with your hand holding onto his arm while he guided you through town. you loved graduating with him, jumping into his arms in your cap and down and diploma in hand. you loved the way he asked you to be his girlfriend, bringing a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers and a pretty bracelet to your apartment door. you loved how gentle his hands always caressed your body, mumbles of permission being asked against your lips. you loved waking up in the early mornings with his arm over your torso, half naked while drool seeped its way onto your pillows, green hair tousled and scars on his back prominent. the melodic hum when you scratched his scalp, eyes peeking through long eyelashes up at your sleepy face. you loved working under the same agency as him, being sent on missions together and working hard. you loved having parties in your now shared apartment (after a year of dating) and inviting ochako and iida as well as other old classmates.
it was a comfortable life. so warm and loving. maybe that’s why you had this unfair situation happen to you. perhaps being too happy, too perfect, was a sin. but why? why have you been stuck in a void for so long, unable to move or wake up. faint beeping to your right. why did you deserve to be paralyzed for so long, after having everything you wanted. being where you wanted. you lost sense of time, only knowing the inescapable black hole that you seemingly floated aimlessly in. it was dark and cold. so dark that when you finally opened your eyes, even with the lights turned off the room was still too bright. it took you a while to understand where you were. pupils dilating as they adjusted to the low light. you turned your head to the side, eyeing the heart monitor and wires that connected from the machine to your arm, the soft glow illuminating the bed stand. there was a vase of flowers, still fresh, with a small ribbon that wrote ‘mom & dad’ . there was a red button behind the vase above the desk, ‘push for assistance’ and with a slow and sore arm you reached over. almost immediately loud footsteps and hushed yells came from the hallway, the intense flicker of the lights turning on causing you to wince and close your eyes.
“miss y/n! you’re finally up, how are you feeling?” the head nurse walked over with a clipboard, her blue eyes shining excitedly through her glasses. she wrote down on her clipboard while looking at the monitor, pen scratching filling in the silence. now that you had the chance to talk, your throat felt like sandpaper. dry and stiff, so scratchy it made your eyes water. one of the nurses standing around passed a cup to you, pink bendy straw in all its glory.
“what time is it? how long was i asleep?” a nervous glance between the nurses made you uneasy, fully awake now.
“ahem, its currently 3:44am. you were out for almost two and a half years. do you remember anything before you knocked out?”
a throaty laugh mustered its way up, scoff-like. you thought, unbelievable. it had to be some prank. some pro-hero reality show. you scanned the area, looking for possible hidden cameras. but the room was empty. just your heart monitor, IV bag, flowers. you spoke slowly, unsurely.
“i dont. i feel like i woke up a very long nap but im so stiff..” you fixed yourself to sit upright, your lower back tight. with uncertain eyes the head nurse gave an awkward smile, telling another nurse on stand-by to notify your parents. she spoke with a low tone, as if it would ease into her words.
“you were involved with a villain attack two and a half years ago. you fought very bravely one on one with a man who’s quirk went out of control. from what other pro heroes told us, your body had given out due to extreme exhaustion and overuse of your quirk, but your body automatically moved on its own and still fought. we believe the immense stress your brain and body endured is the reason you fell into a coma for so long.”
after the nurse ran your vitals she excused herself, and you spent the rest of your time wracking your brain to try and remember this so-called fight you were in. but you cant recall anything, and to be honest you don’t remember much of anything from before your coma. just the general facts like where you live, your agency, your friends, your boyfriend. but what you did the week before passing out? nothing. you don’t even remember when you had last went to your agency to work, just the general knowledge that you went. it was a strange feeling. almost out of body, like the person you were was you but also wasn’t.
it was 4:00am when your parents walked in the room, teary eyed and elated. your parents’ hair was longer, complimented with a few more noticeable gray hairs. it tugged at your heart not knowing the amount of stress you put them through, engulfing them in a warm hug. you talked for an hour or two, for any updates you should know and if everything the nurse told you was true. a part of you was hoping this was still a stunt. your parents awkwardly gave each other a look while you drank some water, unsure what to say. their hands found place in each other and intertwined their fingers, a thumb from your father rubbing your mother’s hand. it was quiet and still in your room. the clock on the wall ticking faintly in anticipation. you were now propped against your pillows, big eyes waiting for their words. and, almost comically, a knock on the door broke your attention, all three of you turning in curiosity. plush green of hair paired with the emerald eyes you fell in love with two- no, four? years ago. a smile cracked at your lips, your heart skipping at beat at the change of look your boyfriend held. hair that was shorter than before, styled and cut. a tanner complexion, slightly taller in height with new scars on his arms. he seemed more buff too, white tee hugging onto his biceps.
now, your eyes were always more perceptive than most, mainly because of your quirk. maybe thats why finding these differences were so easy for you to see. maybe thats why you noticed his new scars and shorter hair. maybe thats why your eyes trailed to his wrist, a thin gold chain wrapped around. a different bracelet from what you had given him on your one-year anniversary, to match with the old one he bought you when he asked you to be his girlfriend. your smile faded, intuition kicking in. something didn’t seem right. the glare in his eyes wasn’t as bright as before. weren’t excited. his face showed relief, sure, but also uncertainty. uncomfortableness. guilt. but for what?
you spoke softly, unsure. nonchalant. but your eyes held so many emotions. and midoriya knew that. he knew you’d rather be nonchalant when you’re unsure, even if the thoughts in your head are spiraling. he knew everything about you. which is why it was so much harder to speak. to get the words out. his eyes glanced at the machine next to you, the bpm slowly raising. with awkward, stiff steps he walked towards you, stopping at the your side of the bed. his hand held yours, unfittingly. you took note of the uncomfortable look on your parents face. it only made you worry more.
“it’s nice to see you’re finally awake. are you feeling okay? does anything hurt?”
of course, he still cares for you. you can hear it in his voice the hidden feeling of love and affection,
but why hide that?
like its there but he doesn’t want to show it. you can feel the tension in the room, in your neck as you strain to look at him. you told him you were fine, not knowing how to feel. the conversation lingered, all four of you sitting awkwardly in silence. in the background down the hall, faint flip-flop and footsteps made their way in the direction of your room. little gasps of air, brown hair shoving itself through the doorway.
“y/n oh my goodness! i’m so happy to see you’re finally awake!!” ochako squeezed her way to your side, hugging your body with teary eyes. she seemed like the only normal one, the only one expressing her happiness and relief. it was enough to make you feel better yourself, sighing in ease at her side with a light chuckle.
“of course im awake. that would’ve been a lame way to go out.”
she laughed with you, exchanging jokes and a giggle, yet slowly making her way towards midoriya’s side. then your unease came back. the weird gut feeling, the tug at your emotions and brain. you can see the remorse through the green irises. you can feel the thickness in the room. and as much as you wanted to run away from this feeling, you couldn’t. not physically, not emotionally. what in the world happened when you were out? with a quivering voice, midoriya speaks up softly. cautiously. you can practically see his puppy-dog ears folding downwards against his skull. “things changed between us.” you parents escorted themselves out, saying a faint goodbye. midoriya fiddled with his thumb, teeth nipping at his lower lip. you just say and listened. to his rambling, to the way his voice shook and how the back of his food tapped the floor.
“the doctor’s told us many times you weren’t going to make it. that your body would reject the IV fluids and make you ill, or your heart would stop and they’d struggle to start it again. i spent a year in agony, refusing to eat, refusing to work. i never left your side in the hospital. but it make me sick too. i couldn’t sleep, i-… i felt so hopeless knowing there was a huge chance you’d never wake up.” his lip shook with every word like a leaf to a tree, the smallest crack in his voice breaking his sentences.
“and so ochako took care of me. she let me cry, listened to my nonsense, helped with my sleep and motivated me to go to work again…”
“i guess a part of me accepted you weren’t going to wake up, so i allowed myself to grieve and found new love in ochako. she said she the healthiest way for us us if i agreed to be with her even if there was a small chance you woke up and wanted me still. that if you woke up, i’d still choose her.”
you wanted to laugh. now this really had to be a set up. some sick joke. it was unfair. to wake up, and be told by your nurse you've been out for two and a half years. to not even remember you fighting in the first place. to be stuck in a black hole with faint memories of your past. to see your parents age in the slightest ways 'overnight'. to see your boyfriend change physically. to hear your boyfriend say he's in love with your best friend.
to have your best friend betray you.
frankly, you don't know what hurt more. the fact that your own boyfriend, or now ex-boyfriend, the same man who never let you open a single door, pay for a meal, tie your shoes or take them off, order your yourself, walk alone anywhere without him, the man who talked about marriage and kids with you. to just wake up and hear he couldn't "wait" for you. and that he still can't chose you just from a stupid promise.
or your best friend, the one you've known since you were 5, the girl who sat in the rain with you when your parents forgot to pick you up after school, the girl who's seen you cry so hard you threw up after your first boyfriend in middle school, the girl who always chose you over a boy, over anyone. or used to. ochako knows everything about you. she knows you hate super sweet foods because it makes your stomach hurt. she knows you like your coffee on thee slightly more bitter side. she knows you like the fuzzy socks with animal faces. that you attempted to run from home when you were 11 because your parents grounded you, but got lost at the subway station and cried. and especially knows your love for midoriya. ever since you first started being friends, he was all you talked about. she knows how much you talk about him and how he treats you so well, how excited you were when he first held your hand when he walked you home for the first time, or how you cried when you had an argument that almost ended your relationship, how you had a pregnancy scare and couldn't sleep for days. so why? and ochako looked at you with her huge brown eyes, almost hopeful. you can see it, her asking not for forgiveness, but for you to understand where she's coming from. if you can let it go because nobody knew if you would ever wake up. that she should have the right to date him too. that you were too late.
the tips of your fingers grew cold. your face grew even more pale than before, completely losing whatever life you could express. why must the world be so unfair to you? and why couldn't you express the frustrate you felt, the anger, the pain, the betrayal. you had it verbally sorted out in your head, everything you could possibly say to make you feel better by shitting words out, but the lump in your throat refused any noise to slip by. the room was silent, becoming colder each passing second. it was unsettling. the two just stared at you. green eyes filled with guilt, brown eyes with expectance.
you allowed yourself to slump down the hospital bed, trying to calm your beating hard. though the machine just gave it away, beeping at the same pace as you, only increasing as more time passed, the rise of your chest more visible as you kept battling your thoughts.
"i understand it must be hard for you, for your girlfriend to be unconscious for two and a half years and you finding the comfort in our close friend. and i know as heroes we talked about death, and for us to find happiness if we ever lost one another," you could practically see the growing excitement in ochako's eyes, holding onto every syllable that slipped through. was she even ochako anymore? did she even care that you just gained consciousness not even three hour ago? doesn't she not understand that, to you, yesterday you were 20 and today you wake up 22. you ignored her gaze and look dead straight into midoriya's.
"but i didn't die. and i guess it was wrong of me to assume you'd wait in the first place."
you could tell izuku wanted to say something, and you can see the stupid look in his eyes of wanting to be with you, but would rather be a man of his word to ochako instead of you. and ochako? the excited look in her eyes should be illegal. why is she so happy she gets to be with your man? why does she look like she’s accomplished something? did 20 years of friendship mean nothing to her? before she could slip a word out, your assigned nurse came back in with a stack of papers and medications, asking the visitors to leave so she can properly discharge you. her words found no importance in your mind, completely passing through your head as you replayed what just happened, the anxiety kicking in and making the monitor go off again, dangerously high.
but the nurse calmly removed your vital compressor on your arm as well as your IV drip, refusing to ask questions. she stood outside your door and heard everything. but she really didn’t have to. there’s articles everywhere pertaining to your coma and inside scoop magazine’s of midoriya and uraraka’s dating life. you guys weren’t celebrities or anything, but coming from a school like U.A. that documented your every move puts you in the spotlight. you were considered heroes as soon as you got you license anyways.
midoriya was always at the top of his game, having interview after interview, making his name known whether he meant to or not. he became a popular topic for years, and still continues to rise in popularity. and you got your spotlight after being sent to Kyoto with ochako to handle a gang of villains from the LOV in an abandoned building, managing to save three children who got lost in there while fighting off three villains with close ranged attack-based quirks. your quirk is mainly used for medium to long range combat, but you and ochako interned under gunhead and improved your physical combat which stunned citizens and made you a ‘big deal’. you spent 20 minutes using only combat skills and plain arrows to paralyze them, since they always attacked once you pulled your bow out, never giving you an opportunity. you both took a beating, sure, but you both had unwavering confidence and raw strength, causing you to headline for a couple weeks in Kyoto. ever since then, the media has been keeping tabs on both of you, and your relationship.
so obviously everyone freaked once pictures of him holding ochako’s hand went public, a year after your comatose article went viral. he received a lot of hate, especially from his friends. and it was hard for him to be out in public again without being ridiculed. he eventually stopped his hospital visits, the media speculating it was his new girlfriend’s jealousy of her boyfriend visiting his unconscious lover.
“take this medication when your body feels sore, its just some asprin. your limbs shouldn't feel too stiff, our staff helped stretch your body while you were in your coma. this reduced the shock of trying to use them after they were idle for so long. and these pills are supplements to update your body on the natural nutrients it missed throughout the years! come back in two weeks for an MRI to make sure your body is recovering well,” she handed you two bags of pills, and a change of clothes your parents had left before going to work. you took your leave, a stretch of the body with a silent ‘crack’ of your unused bones. it was roughly 8am now, the sky painted in pink and blue’s as the sun rose, rays of sun covering your body in a light hug. you thanked the nurse,
“oh, and before you go!” she chimed, blue eyes sparkling with interest, “i know its not any of my business, but while you were gone the handsome young man with red and white here visited you quite often, you should thank him.”
todoroki? he was a good friend to you, in fact one of your closest friends you shared with midoriya. you sat next to him your second year at u.a. spending time getting to know him as a person. he was always quiet during class, yet you can see how his eyes shone curiously as he eavesdropped on conversations, acting like he didn't care. or how he would engage in the silly activities your classmates did, like fake a protest when the teacher was biased, or twisting the top off a confetti canon as people walked in during your christmas party. most students always thought he was cold, mean and uninterested. you could tell how that affected him too in the long run, your classmates not conversing with him enough or being too scared too. though as the school year went on, more people realized he just wasn't good at expressing so much. and that he was in fact, just really dense. the only one he was ever mean to was his dad, understandably.
and so you spent class throwing pieces of paper on his desk, written in small characters random questions you had about him. when's your birthday? who's your favorite classmate? favorite subject? what manga do you read? it was simple at first. general question to please the curiosity you both held. until the questions turned into late night invitations hang out in his room, playing on his switch at 2am. he was fun to be around, he became sassy and full of snarky remarks as you grew comfortable with each other. his personality seemed much more brighter to you. and you told him a plethora of things, a bunch of tiny secrets you kept to yourself. throughout each time you saw each other, you grew to understand each other more and more.
“i dont know if i like him or if i just think hes cute..” you hummed, face squished on his silk pillows as you laid on your side. he sat on the floor, back questionably straight as he played on his switch. a piece of cookie stuck out of his mouth, “you and ochaco both like midoriya? isnt that.. against girl code, or whatever you told me?” blue and grey orbs flicker across your face through his bangs, a hidden emotion dwelling in the depths. cookie crumbs lingered on the corners of his lip, moving his attention back to the mini screen in his lap. you laughed naively, hand reaching out to wipe his face.
“oh, she doesnt like him! she said she only sees him as a friend,” the softest shades on pink touched the tips of his cheeks, his face heating up unbeknownst to you. nimble fingers stopped fidgeting at the buttons, peeking once more to look at you, though to his dismay your eyes remained elsewhere, distant. “and you? is it true you have a thing for yaoyaorozu?” your eyebrows wiggled, giggling like a child finding out these simple secrets. everyone in 2-a knew yaoyaorozu had the mushy-gushy for your bi-colored friend, it was a topic always brought up during parties when the two sexes were separated in their respective rooms, desperately seeking gossip. todoroki remained silent for a minute, a soft huff puffing out his chest. “yeah, i like her.” sure, he liked her. she was smart, intuitive, intelligent, diligent, a great leader. anyone would like yaoyaorozu. she came from money yet never expressed that she was better than anyone else, she was generous and humble, kind. everyone liked her. but in todoroki’s eyes, you can see he longed for something else
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@c0sm1cstqrsx @aliceblossoms @0b1wan @obeythehuman @whippedbyikemen @faimmm
#kiwi’s works. 🧃#midoriya x reader#todoroki x reader#✶࿐ izuku midoriya#✶࿐ shoto todoroki#༘⋆ shoto todoroki 🫂#shoto todoroki x reader#x reader#my hero academia
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Piano Sessions: Style + Finnick Odair -- reader x Finnick faking a relationship to gain favor in Capitol, but real feelings develop, maybe have them towing that line in the lead-up to Quarter Quell
☼ style (Finnick Odair) ☼
warnings; swearing, use of the term 'good girl' kinda in a gross way, mention of gore, brief mention of the morphlings.
wc; 2.9k
notes; Piano Sessions: songfic, Style by Taylor Swift.
--
Finnick Odair is one of those victors that you have never been able to properly figure out, despite knowing him for almost eight years.
Every time you think that you’ve finally got a handle on his thought process and the way he acts, he strays, surprising you. Over the years, his impulse decisions have slowly declined, as his situation with the Capitol and District Four stabilized. However, with recent problems rising, it’s brought back his unpredictability.
For some reason, you don’t have this issue with any of the other victors. In fact, you could read them like an open book, cracking their spines in the process because you can delve deep. It’s really not that hard to sniff out secrets in their seemingly perfect facades when you’ve been doing it for so long.
It’s a talent, really. One that not a lot of people appreciate. What happens is that they find it irritating when you know their intentions before they’ve had the chance to approach you. Most of the time, they have this look in their eye, giving it away. You don’t even need to search half the time because of it.
That’s why you can tell that Finnick is up to something right now, but you don’t know exactly what it is. From what you’ve gathered so far from the stolen glances in your direction, is that it has something to do with you. He’s just waiting for the right moment to talk to you.
Which is driving you crazy. You’re not sure what the right moment could possibly be, especially now that the two of you are on a train being shipped to the Capitol in their custody. This is not just another year of mentoring, where every thought can wait until you’re ready. You’re District Four’s tributes in the Quarter Quell, unspoken words could mean life or death. They can change the trajectory of the Games.
He knows this, of course. Probably better than anybody.
You suck in a breath through your nose, rolling your head in his direction, making eye contact right as he glances at you again. Instead of looking away immediately, the two of you enter a silent staring contest.
It doesn’t last for long. “Are you going to say it or are you going to keep looking at me?” You ask.
Finnick offers you a small smile, getting up from where he’s sitting on the plush train couch to go to you. Where you’re sitting at the dining table, enjoying the bottomless pot of sweet tea that the avoxes provide.
A laugh leaves him. “I was thinking, while we’re in the Capitol, we could fake a relationship to gain more favor.” He says nonchalantly. It’s so relaxed coming from his mouth that you almost feel ridiculous when you choke on your drink. “So that we have nothing to worry about with sponsors in the arena.”
You raise a napkin to your lips, clearing your throat, trying to get the burning pain to subside quicker.
“And it could work out in your favor too, you’ll get allies.” He continues. “Since we both know that you have a special talent for driving people away.”
You raise your eyebrows, blinking, absolutely speechless. This is exactly what you mean when you say that Finnick makes it so difficult for you to pin him down. And you’re not referring to the add-on at the end. You’re talking about the way he just casually suggested for the two of you to fake a relationship.
“Have you hit your head recently?” You ask.
“No.” He lets out a light laugh. “You can’t tell me I’m wrong, especially about the sponsor part.”
You know he’s not wrong. Your ability to anticipate intentions have lost you a good handful of friendships over the years, particularly in District Four. Your former friends saw you as an opportunity for money after your win, despite having plenty of it for themselves. So, you lost them. You told them to get lost.
It’s stunted a lot of potential friendships since, and it’s because you’re entirely too suspicious to let new people in right away. It happened with Finnick, even though he was the one to really mentor you before going inside. You couldn’t quite place your finger on him, which makes sense seven and a half years later. He doesn’t have a consistent personality.
Still, on the other hand, your gut feeling has given you a chance to grow in other areas. Like with the Capitol, for example. You used it to your advantage during your Games, like when you interacted with the tributes around you. You knew what the Gamemakers were looking for with scoring, giving you a higher one than you deserved.
You simultaneously flattered the Capitol while talking about yourself during the interview with Caesar, getting you a step in the door. It truly isn’t difficult to sweep the Capitol off their feet in the first place, but you managed to do it so effortlessly that they held onto you. They cared about what happened to you in the arena.
When you won, it only continued from there. You became the Capitol’s favorite female darling, because Finnick was their male. It wasn’t long before you were the good girl, you couldn’t do anything wrong. Even when your tongue accidentally slipped and you showed some of your true colors.
So, while Finnick isn’t wrong about allies, he’s far off about sponsors. It’ll work more in his favor than it will in yours. Although, with his own fairly decent sized sponsor list, you two could blow the competition out of the water with your combined efforts.
But then again, you don’t really care about having allies right now. They don’t inherently matter until you’re in the Capitol, and even then with the chaos going on in the districts, you need to figure out who will be good to have around. You volunteered knowing full well you were signing up to go blind, which is why your whole plan revolves around analyzing the mindsets of the other tributes.
Especially when it comes to Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, but you know how difficult they can be. You’ll be looking at Haymitch for real direction when it comes to the rebels. His teenagers sparked the rebellion, and the rest of you will make sure that it gets set ablaze.
Finnick’s plan is almost meaningless. And so is he, to you, in some capacity. You don’t need him, you haven’t in years. If he’d been paying attention to that recently, he’d know that you’re self-sufficient in the Capitol, and you’ve never been afraid of approaching other tributes. This year will be even easier since you’re all victors, anyway.
Finnick’s proposition is just so bizarre.
Here’s the thing—it’s been a while since you’d heard from him. The last time you held a genuine conversation beyond the formalities was a year and a half ago, when you’d decided that you were done with his whirlwind romance. He would suck you into his own personal vortex, and the only reason why you’d get spat out would be because he wasn’t interested anymore.
And it’s not like this happened once, it was multiple times. The reason why you kept going back was because your relationship before hadn’t been like that. It changed a couple months after Annie Cresta won her Games. One day, you two were stable. Next, there were more issues than you could take care of, which would be the beginning of the end.
Of course, you tried to fix every problem you had, but it didn’t feel like you were making progress. So, the next solution came to be an on-and-off relationship. You would get together, everything would be fine for a couple months, and then you’d break up. By the time he wanted you back, you’d be over the fight, and you’d go right back to him.
You thought that after the last time, he’d be done. Yet here he is, surprising you again.
“Come on, (Y/n), it’ll work out in our favor.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“It’ll work out in your favor.” You correct him. “I don’t care either way, and I think you knew that already.”
Finnick tilts his head with a knowing smile. “You caught me, but I meant what I said about allies. I have an in, and you don’t. You’ll be able to skip the processing time with me.” He winks.
He must be talking about the rebels. It makes you wonder how he’s been talking to them, especially Haymitch, or anyone else that might be involved in higher places, besides District Four. Your home has been making quite the uproar since the news of the Quarter Quell, it’s just gotten worse recently. They’ve basically flooded every possible open space with the Peacekeepers, afraid of the Mayor being overthrown. Or worse, joining in on the rebellion. Which is why they replaced the old Head Peacekeeper with a new one, and she’s a fucking bitch.
“Let me guess, I’ll have to follow your lead?”
He makes a face, “Not exactly. I can’t be in charge of an alliance that large, so I’m sure we’ll all be given a part to take care of.”
You squint at him as the realization that this is a terrible idea dawns on you. You have to admit, it’s a creative way to get you back into his arms after so long, but if it’s anything like the past ten times, you know where this leads. And you know that you should tell him to leave, but you won’t.
“Fine, I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend.” You emphasize.
Finnick gives you a dimpled smile. “I knew you’d agree.”
—
The Capitol has been eventful in its own boring way this past week.
In terms of training and impressing the Gamemakers, there wasn’t anything new. You showed up to the gym, you played around with their toys, and you’d go back to the apartment at the end of the day. From the outside looking in, no one’s been able to tell that there’s more going on in the background.
If they looked closer, they’d see that you’ve been conspiring with victors that you haven’t shown interest in the past. That you’ve been getting along with Johanna and morphlings, when rivalries and distaste haven’t been hidden from the public. That you haven’t been their perfect little darling all week.
With the Games quickly approaching, and happening as soon as tomorrow, it’s been hard to keep the anticipation from boiling over. Especially since Haymitch’s plan has finally been smoothed out, after days of working out the kinks.
At the beginning of training, you scoped out Katniss and Peeta. Truth be told, they weren’t sure about how they felt about you. After some proving, Katniss was able to admit to Haymitch that she knows something is off with you. LIke you can read her thoughts and act on them before they’re fully formed. All Peeta could say was that he thinks you’re nice and looking for peace.
This gave Haymitch an idea, which eventually led to him giving you a role—just as Finnick said he would. It’s pretty obvious how distrustful Katniss can be with Finnick, and so you’re expected to placate her, in hopes that Finnick will be able to keep control of any given situation. You told them that you’d try your best.
If Katniss can already sense what you’re doing, it’s only a matter of time before she fully catches on and shuts you down. Once that happens, there will be no coming back. She’s stubborn, so she’ll go out of her way to ignore you and your advice. You can see it coming.
Until then, you’ll keep your promise.
“And you’re finished!” One of the prep team members sighs. He backs up, hands pressed against his chest with a dreamy look in his eye. “We’re right on time, too. They haven’t been waiting long.”
You get up from where you’re sitting on the stool, watching as your dress glimmers in the soft light. Immediately, someone jumps to fluff out the back, not wanting it to be flat. A floor-length mirror is moved to be in front of you, allowing you to see the iridescent dress. It’s primarily blue, sometimes purple, rarely pink unless you move a certain way.
“Like a soap bubble.” Your stylist remarks. “Clean.”
Of course, the colors were done with a purpose. To continue to project the idea that you’re the Capitol’s perfect darling. Maybe it’s done with the hopes that they’ll take it easy on you inside of the arena, but their opinions will change over time. They’ll smile through the gore and murder. They’ll be outraged when you try to escape.
“Thank you.” You murmur, heading for the door.
The boy seemingly jumps to open the door for you, and then he stops. You look over your shoulder at your stylist, face twisted, hoping he’ll tell him to get out of your way. Instead, you’re met with an open box, and laying right in the middle of black satin is a pair of white gloves.
They’ve got to be kidding, you think. As you force a smile to your face, you reach for the gloves, pulling them on one at a time. They’re foreign, material slightly uncomfortable against your soft hands.
Now they open the door, letting you out.
You leave your room, going down the hall and into the living area to find Mags and Finnick. You’re greeted with a warm smile, Finnick moving across the room to hold your hand as you go down the few steps.
“Gloves?” He questions, rubbing his thumb over the material.
“I’m clean.” You roll your eyes, he lets out a breath through his nose.
“Of course you are.” He reaches to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, eyes fixated on yours.
“You’ve got that daydream look in your eye.” You murmur, stroking the side of his cheek with the back of your finger.
It’s a look that you’re familiar with. It’s sexy, sultry. It’s what your mind clings on to when you think about him, when you dream about getting back together with him. You know that it’s a facade that he puts on for the Capitol, but he’s perfected it over these years. You can’t help falling for it, too.
“You have that red lip, classic look that I like.” Finnick murmurs. “My type in every way.”
Yes, you know. You’re Finnick’s type, because you started it. You’re the girl he loves so much that he can never get enough of, even when you’re not together. So every girl that he dates now has to have some quality of yours, because you’re the blueprint. And all the girls that come after are the copies, second editions. Clones.
But he never really needs them, because when you go crashing down, you come back every time. By your will, or the universe’s, you can never stay apart for long. You thought that the last break up was it, yet you’re here again, back to taking care of each other. You love him.
You think you love him.
“It’s time to go, we’re going to be late for check-in!” Your escort warns you two, coming down the steps. “To the elevator, let’s go.”
You reluctantly pull away from Finnick, offering him a small smile. He motions for you to go first, following behind you casually. Your escort is the last to leave the apartment, but she’s quick to enter the elevator first. She presses the buttons, holds the doors to ensure you all make it on, and then relaxes.
Once you’re on the ground floor, she loses interest in control, pushing you and Finnick to join the rest of the victors, while she takes care of the rest. This is the last time you’ll see your stylist, prep team and Mags for the night. They’ll be in the crowd, somewhere in the front row, where you’ll be able to see them when you’re on stage.
The interviews haven’t started yet, but they will be soon, judging by the giant clock on the wall, counting down from ten minutes. There’s victors scattered everywhere, friends having their own conversations. Johanna catches you two through a brief glance, waving you over to join her.
Your pace doesn’t change. You play with one of the fingers of the glove. “What’s your plan for the interview? I heard an idea going around, and I was thinking of joining in, but I wanted to hear what you’re doing first.”
“I wrote a poem.” Finnick shrugs, “For a girl.”
You blink, face twisting as you slow down. “Why would you do a poem for me when I’m with you?”
Finnick opens his mouth, and then closes it.
Your body warms as you come to a stop in the hallway. Finnick’s lips are pressed together, head slightly tilted. “It’s for Annie, isn’t it?” You ask. “I heard you’ve been out and about with some other girl.”
Some other girl, you mock in your head. It’s Annie. He’s been out with Annie, part of the reason why you think your relationship has failed in the past. It’s no coincidence it started after she won. You had a feeling there was something going on between them before you left District Four, but you were just going to ignore it because it couldn’t have been true. Finnick wouldn’t cheat.
“What you heard is true, but I can’t stop thinking about you and I.” Finnick reaches to take your hands, squeezing them.
You sigh, “I’ve been there too a few times.”
--
this was part of my 3k celebration!!
#ilguna#finnick odair#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair oneshot#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x yn#finnick odair x y/n#finnick imagine#finnick oneshot#finnick fanfic#finnick x reader#finnick x you#finnick x yn#finnick x y/n#thg#the hunger games#requested#fluff#anon#ask#3k celebration
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Chapter 1 - A journey´s beginning
Summary: Y/n witnesses a fight on the village´s market and things start to get stirred up in her life. Who are these strangers and why does she feel that something about them will decide her fate?
Genre: adventure, fluff
Pairing: ?? x fem!half-siren!reader
Additional Characters: ATEEZ, Stray Kids
Word Count: 2014
Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of weapons, fighting
Networks: @newworldnet
Notes: There might be an explanation ‘chapter’ for some things, only if you all want/need it. As for now, ‘mother rain’ is just a name that y/n has given her parent. The being itself does use any pronouns, but is feminine appearance wise, which is why y/n calls them mother.
additional links: PrevCh Masterpost Next Ch
© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.
“When the red moon rises,
And paints the land in its fiery shade.
A child shall be born to land and sea,
Its’ heart's voice with the power to unite.
The path will be torn,
But a heart's melody will lead.
Clawed embraces like a thorn,
The one eyed’s Illusion offers a home.
When the child gains powers,
Land and sea their witness and friend.
Deep ocean's bell calling home all sirens,
To gather under one heart's voice.
A new queen will be raised to her throne,
Her call heard far and near.
Friends won't shy, fighting for her to rise,
When blood is against her, seeking demise.”
It had been eons since the last red moon hung in the night sky, so the excitement rose high when the birth of y/n fell on the day of this very rare lunar event. Highly anticipated amongst the sirens of this clan, since the child born on this day would become the ruler of their entire species, even though y/n was only the outcome of her mother being bedded by a human pirate. Excitement was replaced with disappointment the moment y/n took the first breath of air and water, because even though she looked as if screaming from the depths of her lungs, no sound was heard. The girl was born without a voice. How could this thing become their queen one day? This had to be kept a secret, the child disposed of very quickly. So, in the dead of night, one chosen of the clan's warriors was sent to bring the child to the highest mountain of the nearest island, so it would not be able to touch the sea and soon starve and dry out.
Fate had different plans for this half siren though, and even if left for its death, the child survived thirteen days without food or water before she was found by none other than the soul of the sea itself. Disguised as a human being, they took her in and raised y/n, naming her after a mythical remedy that had long been forgotten. The child's youth was filled with warmth, wonders and love, protected and sheltered by the incarnation of the sea itself, yet living in a small hut on land.
Years went by and the little rainbow scaled half-siren rose into a beautiful young woman, her white hair shimmering in all the colors of the light when swimming in the water. While growing older, she learnt to hide her scales from human eyes, so she could walk through the nearby village, sirens have always been feared and often hunted. Every time she'd leave home to visit the market, y/n had been told to be careful. “Remember, my child. The wolves control these lands, do not cross the crescent moon pack.” The sea always told her and, once again, the young woman nodded with a smile. Y/n had heard these words often enough that they have carved itself into her mind by now. The basket for goods from the market in hand, her flute and a bag with some coin attached to her belt, the young half siren walked over to her parent, kissing their forehead.
‘Do not worry, mother rain. I will not stray from my path. My friend will accompany me again.’ Y/n communicates, using her hands and a language without words for this. Not many people understand her, nor do they want to, most of them call her way of communicating a work of magic and don't want anything to do with it. At the name y/n had given them, the sea let out a melodic laugh, shaking his head. “You have yet to explain to me why you call me that, my little tadpole,” they hum, cupping the girl's cheek for a moment before sending her off to the market.
Why does y/n call them mother rain? She doesn't quite know herself. Mother, because they always have been there for her as far as she could remember. They're her mother, it's that easy. Rain, because - well, why? Walking down the dirt path to the village, y/n kept thinking about an explanation and before entering the market, she found it. The falling rain always has been soothing for y/n, the feeling on her scales, the sound it makes when hitting the ground, it just made her feel safe and calm. Mother rain had the same effect for the young woman. And she never learned her parent’s real name, nor is she aware that they are the sea itself.
“Y/n! Over here,” a familiar voice called out when y/n neared the village, drawing her attention to the young male, who's crouched on a boulder. His ashen brown hair falling into his face didn't hide a new scar under his eye. Her eyes wide and brows furrowed in worry, y/n pointed at the scar when she came closer, causing the young man to chuckle. “This? Oh, it's fine, don't worry.” He hummed, jumped off the boulder and stepped closer to y/n, so she could inspect the scar. “Wolves do cry sometimes. I just had to be reminded of it.” Now that y/n was able to see it up close, the scar reminded her of tears trailing down the man's face, causing her to huff out some air. “Don't be upset, please. It didn't hurt…well, not badly at least-” His words drew another huff from y/n, who shook her head. Her best friend often misjudged the gravity of some of his actions, so he got into trouble a lot and therefore got punished by - well, she's not sure by whom. Although, now that she thought about it - he usually referred to himself as one of the wolves. Y/n always downplayed this as him joking around, but what if he really is one of the feared pack controlling these lands?
A tap on her nose pulled her out of her thoughts, causing her to look up at the face of her friend. Jeongin never judged her, nor did he ever harm her or get her into dangerous situations, so why should she judge him? Even if he was one of the pack, she would never want to lose him as her best friend, one of the only people in this village who liked her and talked to her. “Did Rain send you to the market again?” The young man asked, gesturing towards the empty basket and when y/n nodded, he took her hand to walk with her to the village. Jeongin never cared or minded that she was mute, he didn't need to hear her talk to understand her. Being dragged after the young male, y/n gave a silent chuckle, but then stopped, holding Jeongin back from walking further. She could sense something familiar, something that sent a shudder down her spine; she felt the presence of another siren.
“Huh? What's wrong, y/n? Are you not feeling well? I can bring you back to Rain, if you like-” Jeongin stopped, his head snapped towards the market, because sudden shouting and other noises came from there. Both of them looked at each other before the young male started running towards the commotion, y/n stumbling after her best friend. It only took them a few moments to reach the market and both could see what caused the noises. People hurriedly put away their wares and tried to get their market stands out of the way, while others were standing around the entry to the tavern.
Eyes wide, y/n let go of Jeongin's hand when the young male hurried towards the commotion to talk to one of the people around. The young half siren also stepped forward, freezing in place when she saw what's happening. A young man with dark hair and one eye covered by a bandage was fighting with someone else.
“Hyung! What happened?” y/n could hear Jeongin's voice and she walked over to him, grasping the young man's arm with a frightened expression. “Jisung, why is your mate fighting that man?” The one Jeongin spoke to was trembling slightly, looking worried to the fighting people before turning to the younger male. “This man shoved me, I- I accidentally bumped into that man's friend-” Y/n could sense that the man Jeongin called Jisung was nervous, maybe even scared, so she put a hand on his arm gently, trying to calm him down.
A collective gasp drew the young woman's attention, her hands going up to her mouth when she saw what happened to cause this. The black haired one, who was wearing the same clothes like Jisung, had managed to cut, or rather claw, the other's chest. However, the other didn't seem to give up, despite the begging of his friend, a white haired male. “Hongjoong, please! Stop it, or this wolf will kill you!” The man pleaded, causing y/n to freeze, her eyes widened in realization. That white haired person was the siren she sensed, another half siren!
“Minho, stop!” Another man walked onto the marketplace, but he didn't seem in a hurry. He looked intimidating, a scar across his face and the fur vest not covering much of his torso, which also was scattered with old and some seemingly newer scars. His voice actually made the fighting male stop, it had something like an echo to it, as if he wasn't the only one speaking, yet no one else had opened his mouth. What seemed off to her, was that Jeongin and Jisung also cowered at this voice. “Chan, he attacked Ji-” “Stop! We do not start fights with guests of the village, Minho!” The man, Chan, hushed the other quickly, none of them noticing the movement from the one eyed one called Hongjoong.
Y/n did notice though and before he could attack the others again, she rushed between them, stomping on the ground hard once, which sent a little shockwave of water across the area, a faint ring of a bell sounding through the water. This not only calmed the people in the area, but also revealed the rainbow scales on her legs for a split second. Despite that, Jeongin and his friends, as well as the white-haired one and Hongjoong saw it before y/n was able to hide them from view. “Seonghwa, she’s-” Hongjoong gasped and looked at his friend, the white haired guy, but the friend just shook his head. When the young woman looked at Jeongin, she got a glimpse of his shocked expression, but even though he was surprised about this revelation, he spoke up quickly, approaching the injured Hongjoong with y/n.
“We have to bring him to Rain, they can help.” Jeongin spoke calmly and helped the white haired guy to pick up Hongjoong and support him. Chan watched the scene cautiously, gesturing to Minho to follow their youngest. “You go with him and make sure he comes home in one piece. I'll clean up your mess here, Minho,” the oldest of the wolves hissed, wondering how none of them had noticed a siren living close by. Minho already wanted to protest, but one look from Chan silenced him.
Leading them down the path to Rain's hut, y/n was thinking about what happened, how shocked the ones who saw her scales were. “Y/nie, Stop worrying-” Jeongin's voice got cut by Seonghwa, who sounded curious rather than upset or scared. “You're a half siren, aren't you?” He asked in a calm manner, still supporting his friend while walking. Y/n merely nodded, her head hanging low. She remembered her parent's words, that most people despise sirens and are afraid of them. The group stayed silent the rest of the way, only when they reached the small hut, y/n got more lively again, hurrying inside and dragging the others with her. The only one who stayed outside the hut was Minho, who was very suspicious of the whole situation around this young woman.
taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperso, @hotteokkay, @minkilicious, @bunnliix,
@gong-fourz, @yeosangiess, @dinossaurz, @scuzmunkie, @h3arteyes4mingi
(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)
#kat writes <3#newworldnet#ateez#ateez fanfiction#ateez fanfic#stray kids#stray kids fanfiction#stray kids fanfic#red moon siren series
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So for months now I've been thinking about this OP/ZoSan!modern AU.
That's like how Zeff (properly) met Zoro basically.
So Sanji and Usopp are room mates. One day the water pipes break in their house and everything floods. While they are doing work to repair them, Usopp goes to stay with Kaya, happy to at least be able to see his girlfriend- it's not often they get to hang out since they're both collage students. Sanji goes at Zeff's- Sanji has a room there since he spent his highschool years living with the man. The work at his house last for about a week and he doesn't want to stop seeing Zoro in the meanwhile (they're dating. Sanji is just a bit dramatic, it's not that bad), so he invites him at Zeff's place while the chef is at work. When Zeff comes home a bit earlier than expected, he finds Sanji's bedroom door wide open, him and Zoro are laying simply cuddling and watching a movie together. Memories of a teenager Sanji they invade the chef's mind. The two lovers are completely unaware of Zeff's presence until he starts shouting something about sex, condoms, AIDS and being able to split both their heads in half with a butter knife. Zoro is slightly scared. Sanji is annoyed. Zeff and him get into a fight. Eventually all three of them have dinner together and Zeff decides that Zoro is a nice enough guy to be dating Sanji.
#one piece#vinsmoke sanji#roronoa zoro#zosan#black leg sanji#op usopp#kaya one piece#one piece modern au#i love a protective zeff#like he's so protective of sanji in his own way its beautiful
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•❣•୨୧ 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨 - 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙞𝙞 ୨୧•❣•
benedict bridgerton x princess!reader
summary: you and benedict have been sneaking out every chance you get.
contains: lots of romantic fluff and a dash of whorishness.
a/n: part two of the new series! hope you guys enjoy!
word count: 1.4k
The garden beneath your window is cast in the pale glow of moonlight. The king has retired to his chambers and so have most of the servants. The wind blows gently into your bedroom from the open balcony window, the curtains waving softly as if inviting you out. You stand from your bed, the hairs at the back of your neck standing from excitement. You step out onto the balcony, immediately bathed in moonlight. As you run your fingers across the marble balustrade, you can’t keep your mind from running wild with all the possible scenarios that could play out tonight. You rest your head in the divot of your palm and gaze wistfully out onto the garden before you.
You don’t realize how lost in thought you are until your attention is caught by the rustling of grass. “Princess?” you hear Benedict’s voice call out for you. You look down and meet his eyes. He has only been able to pull this trick – sneaking onto the royal grounds past midnight – a handful of times, so it never fails to surprise you when you find his azure eyes shining beneath your window. He gasps as if the air is taken out of his lungs. “You know, your beauty never fails to take my breath away.”
You laugh incredulously. You have grown accustomed to hollow flattery your entire life and struggle to believe each one of Benedict’s Shakespearean compliments. But you say nothing of it, for the adoration in his gaze is evident and you wouldn’t dare doubt its sincerity.
“Such a flirt.” you tell him and he smirks boyishly. “Just a moment, I’ll be right down.” You slink back into your chamber and out into the hall. Your white nightgown and floral robes flow as you glide down the crystal-clean stairs and out into the garden. There you find Benedict, his black coat making him seem more mysterious and dangerous than you know him to be. He takes your hands in his own and brings them to his lips, where he places a gentle kiss. “How I have longed to see you, my dear.”
“I feel the same.” you say, still catching your breath. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” You feel more electricity in this simple embrace than you have in years of dancing at balls and being courted by men of royal blood. Benedict smiles; a sweet, earnest smile. He looks down nervously, fishing something out of his coat pocket before placing a sealed envelope in your hands.
“For you to read later, when I am gone.” he says, bringing his thumb and forefinger up to hold your chin affectionately. Though it has been a matter of mere weeks, what began as intense infatuation has inevitably begun to blossom into what can only be described as the purest form of love. The thrill of sneaking off with Benedict, or of reading the poetry he sends you nearly on a daily basis has become a sort of drug to you, a high you will never tire of chasing. However, it is in moments like these, when it is only the two of you and the moon as witness, that are filled with a tenderness that you feel will last forever. You open your palm and try to peek at what is scribbled on the inside of the envelope, cheekily holding it up against the moonlight.
“Very funny.” Benedict clicks his tongue and tickles your ribs, eliciting a laugh from you. “God, there is no sound I love more than that of your laughter. And to know I am the cause of it; well, that it makes it all that much lovelier.”
You smile before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips and pulling away. But the moment is short-lived as Benedict pulls you in for a true kiss, one filled to the brim with passion and yearning, and perhaps a bit of lust. “Now, my dear.” you reprimand him half-heartedly. “We shan’t get carried away.”
“Of course, Princess.” he nods pliantly, but his voice is dripping with mischief as his head dips to plant a trail of kisses down the crook of your neck. He knows all too well that this act never fails to make you weak at the knees. “Surely we are both fully capable of abstaining from our desires, especially such a distinguished woman as yourself.”
“Oh, you are terrible, Benedict!” you push him off you, a scowl on your face. But one look at his roguish face and you are smiling in spite of yourself. “You are terrible and wonderful all at once.”
“What conflicting reports.” he teases you. You feel as if you could jest this way with him for an eternity, simply laughing and kissing and smiling as lovers do. You try to picture it for a moment, a future with him. Your father would never approve. Benedict is the son of a Viscount and a member of arguably one of the finest families in London, but he has no title and is certainly not of royalty. You fear this love you have only just begun is fated to end sooner or later. But you do your best to push that thought away at present because Benedict is here and lovestruck and gazing at you starry-eyed.
You awaken when your ladies in waiting rouse you from your sleep. You reluctantly stand and are almost immediately poured into today’s gown, the corset bodice somewhat constricting your lungs. As soon as you are left alone once again, you dash over to your vanity, sitting before the mirror as you rummage through a drawer and produce the envelope Benedict had given only the night before. You rip it open with a letter opener, your eyes eager to take in the words on the page. You recognize it almost instantly. It is a poem dedicated to you, one by Byron.
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
You swoon, nearly sighing as you press the parchment to your beating heart. You decide that to be adored like this is truly one of the greatest kinds of bliss this life has to offer. You reluctantly part with your reminder of Benedict as you are summoned to see the king. The servants eem to be exchanging whispers as you make your way through the endless corridors of the palace in search of your father. You cannot find a cause for it, but there is a growing feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach when you enter his parlor. You find him in quite a jovial mood, sipping his tea and flicking through the pages of a dusty book. “You called for me, Papa?”
“Ah, yes! My dear, I have news for you.” he says, a wide grin on his weathered features. “Now, I know you will probably not be ecstatic to hear it, but I have found a suitor for you. Well, not truly a suitor. You see, you will be marrying him come summer. It would be an excellent alliance and it is about time you assume your responsibilities as the princess.”
Your heart sinks to your stomach. “Papa! No! You can’t do this to me! You cannot make me marry a total stanger!”
The king’s smile now fades, replaced with an authoritative scowl. “You will do as I say, child. If not for the good of our family, at the very least, for the good of England. You will meet this prince and as the season comes to an end there will be a wedding, and it will be yours. My decision is final.”
You find yourself gasping for breath, turning on your heel to storm out. You find an empty corridor and lean on a wall before sinking down to the palace floor as you weep. There are too many thoughts racing through your mind to count, and the one you cannot cast aside is that of Benedict, with his boyish charm and romantic poetry. It seems your forever with him was doomed from the very start.
tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @holdthegirrrl @enchantedbytomandhenry @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @dd122004dd @marvelspogue
#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton x you#benedict bridgerton x y/n#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton fluff#benedict bridgerton angst#bridgerton
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notes after rewatching fallout s1 ep1
so once again like a crazy person [i've done this with star wars sequels before] i've decided to take three and half pages of notes over the course of an hour. i've been a fan of the games for at least a decade and i'm actually always watching lore content between the installments though so while i do know some minute details, within the show, there was some things i was interested in and curious about that i just decided to jot down. some of this may be things discussed already and some of it might be something i wasn't sure if anyone brought up before but anyways! maybe i'll do the whole season, but here's my ramblings
• them titling the episode "the end" was when i knew i'd love the show
• ok but i really wonder if cooper can still do those party tricks? he was really good at them and lucy would probably love them too 🥺
• thinking back, the radio in the first scene mentions not knowing where the president is--- beginning to wonder if he was the guy sitting in on the vault tec meeting
• just realized they introduced the mr. handy robot in some of the first scenes
• ten years of nuclear threat according to anchor but the show is careful not to give away all the cards because why does the weather anchor make it seem like they know when the bomb will drop? idk but birthday boy mother turns off tv real "head in the sand" like
• the nat king cole song that's playing though [wondering if the song is mirroring specifically cooper's feelings about barb despite everything hmm]
• horse's name is sugarfoot 🥹
• him having to pay alimony... wonder what the prenup? was like... [still think he probably loves barb 😞]
• them calling him a pinko despite him being an architect of vault boy's persona, a quintessential presentation of a "man's man" acting as a cowboy, a real cowboy, a former marine--- wondering if there was a smear campaign after his situation with barb and vault tec, him working children's parties leads me to believe...
• did the kid's say the birthday boy's name was boyd? [if so, there's another character in the games with this name and this is also the name of a character walton has played in another series, funny]
• weather man show's up again distressed, wondering if we'll get more info about that day
• everyone ignoring, cognitive dissonancing their own nuclear annihilation is so prescient if not disturbing and damning
• him teaching janey the thumb thing ☹️
• cooper's voice when he says "let me see if i can't rustle you up a piece" 😩
• janey being the only one to notice the first bomb
• the fear in cooper's eyes
• cooper being in denial one last time before realization sets in
• people becoming animals the moment they realize what's happening--- one guy punches his friend not letting his family into the fallout shelter
• people getting into their cars and cooper onto his horse to escape--- wonder how fast they could be since it doesn't seem you could outrun nuclear annihilation
• lucy being raised so well under the circumstances 😔 [hope she never becomes her father]
• i haven't trusted steph since episode one
• lucy being a teacher [amongst other things] and asking maximus about what happened after the bombs fell makes so much sense [and also much like another person suggested is an interesting juxtaposition to cooper's pre war knowledge]
• lucy showing how skilled she is for being a marriage candidate when in reality we are seeing someone fit for the wasteland is crazy on second watch
• is lucy not watching a cooper howard movie with her dad? hello??
• them reading "war and peace" in the family book club is rich
• lucy [thinking] she's not good at guns, ironic
• steph having to step in like a sisterly type because lucy's mom isn't there 😞
• the wedding dress on lucy being ill fitting, tight as symbolism for lucy not truly "fitting in there" and being constrained [foreshadowing] oof
• the vault boy sign in the back saying "don't lose your head" lmao
• didn't catch the "cousin stuff" until someone mentioned it on tumblr and twitter 💀
• the flashback we see of lucy ending up being almost a false memory, a misrepresentation of her actual memories, that she has been on the surface, in the sun
• norm taunting lucy about her future husband being "anybody" and a "cannibal, crammed full of tumours" 😭 unfortunately for ghoulcy, this was some of the heaviest foreshadowing [the raider also could have been one too]
• why didn't hank recognize moldaver?
• so many things i still don't understand about vaults 31, 32, 33
• the growing realization they are raiders was pretty funny to me lmao
• moldaver having to sit through the disingenuous lies of hank ugh
• norm going into vault 32 like they wanted them to know what was up? or is that just how vault doors work? they used lucy's mom's pip boy [that hank lied about burying]
• lucy putting norm in a protection vault, she really is so strong
• the handed down wedding dress getting messed up
• i am curious if the raiders [shady sands survivors?] only mostly harmed vault tec aligners but maybe not
• the way hank and steph retaliating a little too well
• hank acting like he doesn't know moldaver when everyone really does know moldaver
• moldaver telling lucy she looks like her mother is really such a tipoff
• realizing maximus is getting bullied 😭
• dane... might love maximus a little idk
• from latrine duty to basically ruling over the brotherhood of steel
• they really showed some dude jacking it lmao it's just normal i guess 💀
• maximus being defeated and having a rightful outburst of emotion, poor guy
• the poster saying "the outside world can never harm you"--- funny
• chet would've died up there 😭
• them not opening the vault back up for her, wondering if the vapourized bodies are from the initial bomb drop or the subsequent shady sands ones
• dane almost gets maximus killed three times tbh
• maximus joined the brotherhood of stell to get back at what vault tec did, essentially hank's doing, hank has many enemies
• knowing the enclave, it makes sense why siggi is hunted
• cooper the ghoul's introduction though
• the bounty hunter saying his captors dig cooper up every once in a while to cut pieces of flesh off him 😞 no wonder cooper acts the way he does 😔 he's been taken advantage of, no wonder he doesn't trust anybody is horrible to everyone
• "why is this an amish production of "the count of monte cristo" or the weirdest circle jerk i've ever been invited to?" why would he say this 😭
• cooper's... been invited to circle jerks 👀
• does the bounty hunter know the ghoul is cooper howard?
• him not harming the chicken, him healing dogmeat, there's something there, folks
• people only digging him to use him again 😞
• what a coincidence he's dug up just as lucy leaves the vault
• "i do this shit for the love of the game" he's a character, he's playing a character, real theatre kid
• hence why cooper is introduced as "the ghoul", cooper is long gone
• "us cowpokes, we take it as it comes" something about this lineee
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Vibe Check
The Frat Boy Au, Part 2 - Rated M for UST
Read Part 1 on Ao3 or tumblr.
Billy missed this view. Their room is still only half unpacked, a wreck after they'd stumbled in after the first week of school party, but it has the most important thing in it.
Harrington is asleep, body flung across his bed, his shitty blue comforter bunched around his waist. The early morning light is slanted across mole studded skin, and his long dark lashes flutter.
As do the butterflies in Billy's stomach.
He reaches out with itchy fingers, flinging the comforter up and catching a tantalizing glimpse of Steve's ass in the light as he straddles Steve.
He smacks it lightly, playing Harrington's ass like bongos, hot under the collar when Harrington yelps, jolting for a second up into Billy's hand. He can't really resist grabbing hard, leaving a handprint behind when he has to pull back to avoid Harrington's swinging arm.
"What the fuck asshole?" Harrington pulls the comforter over himself like a chick in a bad romantic comedy, holding it over his tits.
"Wake up, Pretty Boy, we're gonna miss breakfast!"
"I'm hungover as fuck, I'm not going to breakfast!" Harrington flops back to the bed. "Did you hear that screaming last night?"
Billy grins, "Looks like Eddie's mystery girl stuck around."
Steve groaned, "I have to find my earplugs. Last year she kept me up practically every night"
Billy wagged his tongue for a second, "Come on pretty boy, get up, they're making the breakfast burritos you like downstairs. Plus we can see if after a YEAR of dating Eddie finally has the balls to bring his girl to breakfast."
Harrington just covered his face with his arm, "Give me 10 minutes. God, you're such a freak."
"I'll save you a seat," Billy threw his favorite letters over his head, snuggling into the sweatshirt's warmth. "Missed you over the summer, Pretty Boy."
"Missed you, dickwad. You better save me a seat."
Billy nodded, catching another glimpse out of the corner of his eye as Harrington threw off the covers and sat up. But he headed out swiftly, a spring in his step that had been missing all summer, even though he was back in Indiana, aka God's armpit, rather then lounging at Argyle's parents beach house.
Speak of the Devil.
"Ay, brochacho," Argyle threw his arm around Billy's shoulder. "How's the plans for pledge week going?"
"Ask me when I'm not hungover as fuck, Prez," Billy rolled his eyes.
"Yeah," Eden is lounging in the doorway, already looking meticulous in dark lipstick and a full outfit. "Didn't you see how many body shots he took off of Steve?"
Billy just stuck out his tongue at her, getting a certain finger in response.
Argyle snakes an arm around her waist and tows them both forward, "Play nice. C'mon, lets get something to munch on, I'm starving."
The house is lowkey a wreck, even the dining room. Billy can vaguely hear Jason Carver whining down the table that they ought to clean up before the house cleaners got here Monday, just to show house pride. Before Eddie shoves the business end of a burrito in Carver's mouth, grinning when Carver sputters and spits. There's no sign of the screamer that haunts Eddie and Carver's room next door, only the two of them pissing each other off while joined at the hip.
The table's filling up fast, and there's more than one friend or girlfriend or hook up sitting while a brother stands.
"You better be sitting there to save it for me, dick," A whisper shimmers across Billy's skin, and he doesn't have to turn to see that it's Harrington. He knows him by the mint of his mouthwash, by the smell of his hair product, by...
Billy turns and smacks his own lap, "Best seat in the house, princess."
Patrick's girlfriend Chrissy titters nervously on Billy's other side when Steve just huffs in response, his free hand fisting at his side.
"Come on, Pretty Boy," Billy rubs his thigh, "Saved it for you."
Steve slams down hard, clearly intending it to hurt. But Billy doesn't mind, gets a hint of that hair product and mint mixed with the party grime of the night before, hidden under a freshly laundered polo.
Billy snakes a hand around to Steve's stomach, almost laughing himself when Harrington's abs flex under his hand. He wonders if he was puking up in their bathroom. He wonders if Harrington was making use of that morning wood that Billy caught a glimpse of.
He has to take a deep breath of that Steve scented air, curling his hand into Steve's waist while Steve ignored him, digging into his burrito with all the table manners of a feral cat.
It didn't matter how many times this summer he'd caught the perfect wave, or how many times he'd gone out with Argyle, or gone home with someone else. It was stupid, being stuck on a straight guy.
But that had been Billy's reality ever since he'd seen Harrington's big brown doe eyes blink at him during rush week. He was down bad, following Steve to Theta even though he'd been offered several other fraternities hungry to snag his excellent grades and prestigious scholarship cred.
It all didn't matter when he could barely think about anything else. Did he impress Steve? Probably not. Did he have a chance? Not one in hell.
But he had this, hand on Steve's waist. He had mornings sleeping next to him if not with him. Maybe one day he would think he'd thrown his college experience away on this.
He tickles Harrington, who jolted, slamming his knee into the table and glaring at Billy. But he's sinking into Billy's soothing touch, his spine melting a little as Billy rubs slow circles over his hip.
This would have to be enough for now.
#billy hargrove#steve harrington#billy x steve#shieldofiron#harringrove#Harringrove#Billy Hargrove#Steve Harrington#Billy x Steve#Steve x Billy#my writing#frat boy au#vibe check au harringrove
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congrats on the 1k follower count Hype!! Here’s my ficlet request: M (“this can’t be happening… it’s just a dream..”) + 🕯️ + hurt/comfort + taking placing in the (You got me) in the palm of your hand-verse!
Thank you so much! ❤️ This was a fun, fluffy write, I hope you enjoy it. 🔮✨️
Fate don't know you (like I do)
Words: 988
Rated: T
Tags: Established relationship; No UD AU; anniversary; idiots in love; Steve Harrington is a sweetheart; Fade to black
Notes: Set in the same universe as (You got me) in the palm of your hand
Steve is just lighting the last candle when he hears the key in the apartment door. He quickly shakes out the match, then settles crossed-legged on the living room floor.
He can hear Eddie bustling around in the hallway - his keys dropping into the bowl, the thud of his work boots coming off. It leaves him with just enough time to smooth out his costume and arrange his hair. Just enough time to look at his work and wonder if maybe he overdid it a notch. But then the doorknob turns and it’s too late for doubts.
Eddie shuffles into the room without switching on the light. His overalls are half-unzipped already, revealing a long, pale triangle of his throat and chest, the black ink of his tattoos. His hands are trying to free his dark curls from the clutches of his hair tie. He’s muttering under his breath, something about stupid, fucking alternators and stupid, fucking customers.
He’s halfway across the room before he realizes the sofa isn’t in its usual spot.
He pauses, one hand still in his hair, incredulous surprise creeping into his features as he takes in the room. The tablecloths and bed sheets draped over the walls. The way the furniture has been shoved into the corners to make space on the floor. The pillows scattered across the ground, and the sofa table at the center of the room, hidden under another tablecloth. The empty glass jars that have been placed on every available surface, meticulously covered in colorful parchment paper, candles glowing softly from within.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, his eyes land on Steve.
“What the fuck?” he murmurs, eyes raking over his billowey shirt and the velvet curtain-turned-cape, the fucking leggings and the cardboard crown with the fake gems. Steve smiles and rubs at his prickling neck.
“Um, surprise?” he says. “Happy anniversary.”
Eddie takes a step towards him, then pauses again. His throat bops as he swallows, but his face still shows nothing but confusion.
“What is all this?” he asks. His voice cracks around the last syllable. Steve suppresses a grin and leans back on his hands.
“Well, I wanted to do something special, so I thought I’d recreate the scene of our first meeting.”
“We met in highschool, you dork,” Eddie snarks, but he does sink down on one of the pillows opposite Steve. His eyes continue to roam over their surroundings, large and brown and full of wonder. “Where’d you even get all this stuff?”
“Where we fell in love, then,” Steve says impatiently. “It turned out great, didn’t it? I borrowed the sheets and the pillows and stuff from Claudia. Remember that super important family matter in Hawkins two weeks back?”
“The one where you told me not to come.”
Steve nods enthusiastically. “Exactly. I would have loved to have actual lanterns, too, but getting that many would’ve been way too expensive, so I had to improvise. I think they turned out okay, considering what I was working with, but if you tell me to eat another fucking PB and J sandwich for the next year or so I’ll- … hey, whoa, what’s the matter?”
Because Eddie has finally turned and is looking at him, and his entire face is twitching with raw emotion. His hands are trembling in his lap. His eyes are still bright - too bright in the low candlelight, way too bright, and shit, shit, shit, what's going on?
Steve is up on his knees and slipping into Eddie’s space just in time to brush the first tears away.
“Fuck,” Eddie mutters. He swats Steve's hands away to rub his arm over his own face, but doesn’t pull out of his embrace. “Fuck, I'm sorry.”
“No,” Steve stammers. “No, Eddie, I am sorry. I mean, I dunno what for, exactly, but I must've done something wrong for you to-”
“I thought you were leaving me, you stupid dickhead,” Eddie blurts.
Steve's words wheeze to a stop.
“What?” he says when his brain finally manages to reboot itself. “I mean how- … Why would you even think that?”
Eddie rolls his pretty eyes at him, but there's a smile tugging at his lips.
“Oh, gee, Stevie, why would I think that? You've been acting all secretive, going back to Hawkins and refusing to tell me what you're doing there, locking yourself in the bedroom for hours, hiding bags full of bed linen in your car-”
“Aw, what, you saw those?”
“You're not as subtle as you think, big boy.”
Eddie winks at him and leans in for a peck on the lips, but when he pulls away, his face is serious again.
“And also because …” he mutters, pulling a strand of hair from his ponytail to twist it between his fingers. “I dunno. Sometimes, I still look at you and I think … this isn't happening. It's all in my head. It's just a dream. Because there’s now way, is there? No way I’ve scored the prettiest, sweetest, most romantic doofus in that shitty little hellhole for a boyfriend. No way that you’re here with me, that you’d ever want me like this.”
“What?” Steve hums, splaying a firm hand over the base of Eddie’s neck to draw him closer. “You mean like this?”
He only allows them to break the kiss when they’re both flushed and gasping for air. Eddie’s eyes are still bright when he looks at him, but this time, it’s the good kind of bright.
“Can’t believe you thought that,” Steve murmurs, pulling the zipper of Eddie’s overalls further down with one deft hand. “You honestly didn’t see this coming?”
Eddie huffs a laugh against his lips. “For the millionth time, honey: Not actually psychic.”
“Well, good,” Steve smiles, slipping the overall off Eddie’s shoulders and pushing him down onto the cushioned floor. “That means you also don’t know what else I have planned for tonight.”
More celebration ficlets
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie brainrot#steddie fanfic#fanfiction writer#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#hype's 1k follower ficlets
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Sweet Home Texas pt. 2
A/N- hey yall just a little something I wrote while I was traveling today, I don’t know how often I’ll get to update after this with the move rapidly approaching but I had some free time. :)
Pairing- Jake “hangman” Seresin x Oc Ella Mcree
Warnings- angst, language
“I can’t do it anymore.” She said with a heaving sob as she crumbled in on herself, arms wrapped tightly around her middle as if she were holding herself together.
“I’ve been with him for almost 20 years, I don’t know any other way of life but this is…this isn’t a life anymore! Happy moments are almost non-existent, I can’t even remember the last time he prioritized me before his job or his friends, hell I don’t think we’ve even been on a date in at least a year. We are constantly biting each other’s heads off, everything I do seems to be wrong or met with a condescending look. I’m not a child! I’m a 35 year old woman with a thriving career! Just because he has some kind of god complex as a pilot doesn’t give him the right to treat me like I’m stupid. I don’t want to be mean, and I don’t want to hurt him, but I don’t think I can be married to him anymore. Love shouldn’t feel like this, love shouldn’t hurt like this. If the end goal is to be together for 50 + years and hate every minute of it then I don’t want it. I’m sorry- I’m so sorry Jake but I won’t do this anymore.”
Jane Wyatt had been seeing Ella and Jake Seresin for couples therapy for nearly 6 months now, and in that time their relationship had shown no growth. Jake dug his heels in and fought Ella at every corner, he knew he worked too much and probably could have put more time into them but he maintained that she knew this was his dream and he was trying to make it to the top. One day things would be easier, she just had to wait it out.
Ella felt like she was dying on the vine, she had put her life on hold for Jake for so long and now that she was thriving in her career and fast tracking it to become the cfo of a major company in San Diego suddenly Jake couldn’t handle it. Having her at home barefoot and pregnant had never been a part of their plan, they both knew it but he felt like he was losing control and took it out on her. Accusations of cheating when she worked late hours, nitpicking everything she did, he didn’t mean to make her feel small but something in his subconscious just wouldn’t let it go. The house was burning from the inside out and he was refusing to throw water on the fire, they’d burn down together and stay married and maybe one day they’d crawl their way out of it.
Jane watched the scene unfolding in front of her, Ella falling apart and Jake white knuckling the chair across from her, jaw clenched so tightly it felt like his teeth might crack. She knew what the diagnosis was and it was one of the worst parts of her job.
Being a couples counselor was not for the weak, and she knew that at one point the two people in front of her had been head over heels in love. But this wasn’t the same couple from twenty years ago, and it wasn’t helping either of them to stay on a sinking ship.
“I’m sorry to you both, you’ve spent over half your lives together and I know this is not how either of you saw it going. My professional opinion? It’s time to take a step away from each other, whether that be for a few months or in dissolving your marriage can’t be determined yet, only time can answer that. But neither of you are good for each other right now, and my opinion is unchanged. You need to let each other go and find out who you are without each other. It’s the only way to move forward.”
Jake was out of his seat and out the door before she even finished, Ella crying out for him as he made his way to the elevators and out to his truck. He finally let himself break when he was alone, he knew it took two people to build a life but he had pushed her to this point. He knew she’d been unhappy and he had done nothing to stop it, nothing to change it, just expected her to push through like they always had. He didn’t know who he was without her, he’d never even kissed another woman before her; how was he supposed to just move on? The thought made him feel physically sick. He couldn’t go home, so he called his wingman, Javy Machado to admit defeat and ask for a place to stay.
That was nearly four years ago, Jake replayed that awful afternoon over in his mind in bed after he’d seen you at the bar tonight, you’d looked damn good. Still all fire and sharp wit, and it reminded him just how far apart you’d grown in the time since then. He had hoped if he gave you space to grow and learned the tools he needed to work on himself that the universe would bring you back together, but it hadn’t. That is until you walked in tonight. Circumstances be damned, he wasn’t signing those damn papers. He’d let this go on too long, he was going to romance you and show you just how good things could be, if you’d found someone else well that poor sap would have to go because the two of you were endgame and he knew it. Now he just had to convince you. Easier said than done.
🏷️ Tagging- @attapullman @bobgasm @roosterforme @mynameismckenziemae @seitmai @jessicab1991 @djs8891 @buckysteveloki-me @dontletthemtakeyoualive @crazy-ravioli @dizzybee03 @sarahsmi13s @sunsetsimpsblog @auroralightsthesky @bradshawssugarbaby
#top gun maverick#top gun maverick fanfiction#jake seresin#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin x oc#top gun hangman
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cadina 97!
97. “It’s not that easy.”
Regina really thought that going to college halfway across the country would fix her... problem. She left and went to Columbia; Cady stayed and went to Northwestern. Out of sight, out of mind, right?
Well, apparently, wrong.
Somehow the torture of seeing Cady practically every day was nothing compared to the torture of not actually having any idea where she was, what she was doing, or who she was talking to. If she was at her desk doing homework or if she was out with some guy getting coffee and laughing about natural logarithms or whatever.
And now that she and Cady are in the same room—well, backyard—she physically cannot stop herself from staring.
"Hey girl."
Regina jumps as Damian drops into a chair beside her.
"Hi," Regina says. Across the yard, Cady is talking to Kevin and Gretchen. Her hair is twisted up in a way that shows off her cheekbones. She looks beautiful.
"You ever gonna tell her?"
Regina looks up sharply to see Damian looking at her shrewdly. "What?" she asks.
Damian gently pats her hand. "You know what I'm talking about. Don't pretend."
Regina feels her cheeks heat. God. She really thought she had kept this thing under wraps. She looks away and doesn't say anything.
"Have you ever talked to her about it?" Damian presses.
Regina grits her teeth. "About what?"
"Oh my god, Regina," Damian says exasperatedly. "You've been sitting here for half an hour like you're Therese at the Frankenberg's counter."
"What?" Regina asks, confused. "Who?"
"That's not important right now, although you not understanding that reference is indicative of a larger problem," Damian says dismissively. "I've been watching you watch her for three years now. It's honestly kind of sad."
Regina sighs, internally admitting defeat. "It's not that easy," she says quietly.
"What is?"
To Regina's horror, Janis has come to join them.
"Telling Cady Regina likes her," Damian says, and Regina briefly considers throwing her drink in his face and fleeing.
"Oh, yeah," Janis says, then snorts. "Don't look at me like that, Regina. Either tell her you're in love with her or get it surgically removed. It's weird and exhausting for you to just be staring at her all the time like a creep."
Damian shoots Janis a look. "What Janis means is that you deserve to be happy."
"Uh, no, I did mean that the staring is creepy," Janis says, and Damian makes a shooing gesture at her with his hand.
Regina tips her head back and looks up at the sky, shades of pink and orange swirling as the sun makes its last appearance at the edge of the horizon. "You guys are the worst people I know," she says.
"I think that's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me," Janis says, pressing a hand to her heart.
"It doesn't even matter," Regina mutters. "She's straight."
At this, Janis barks out a sharp laugh before clapping her hand over her mouth.
Regina narrows her eyes. "Why is that funny?"
"Does she not know?" Damian stage-whispers, which Regina finds particularly annoying since she is sitting right here.
"Know what?" Regina demands.
"I don't think—" Janis cuts herself off and shakes her head. "It's not my place to say."
"What isn't?" Regina sits up, giving Janis the most intimidating look she can muster, although Janis only seems amused by this.
"Regina, honey," Damian says, placing a hand on her arm. "Just talk to her. She might be more receptive than you think."
Regina again gazes out across the yard at Cady, catching her eye. Cady grins and waves, and Regina halfheartedly waves back. A dozen thoughts and emotions swirl inside her, but one in particular starts worming its way inside her brain, banging against her skull. Something she has never let herself feel since the day Cady walked into the cafeteria their junior year of high school.
Hope.
#cadina#mean girls#mean girls 2024#mean girls the musical#mean girls broadway#cady heron#regina george#ask#anonymous#prompts#janis (gently) bullying regina about her sexuality is my favorite dynamic
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We the Anti-Heroes
Growing up isn't easy, especially not in a place like Auradon.
Hadie Phobos is starting his sophomore year at Auradon Prep, hoping to impress his half-sister Mal and King Ben with his ability to thrive off the defunct Isle of the Lost (something that's easier said than done). Meanwhile, Princess Ariana Rose is treading a fine line, playing a useless game of tug of war between her collapsing family life and the freedom she desperately craves. With her cousin Audrey struggling to keep her together and out of trouble, Auradon Prep is the last place she wants to be.
Forced to get to know one another for a school project, these two unlikely personalities clash in a display of sparks, forming a strange relationship no one ever expected.
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Writing about Ariana and Hadie? Yes. Does anyone other than me care about this ship? Probably not 😅 but I’m throwing it out into the world anyway, so please be nice 🙏 also if anyone has a good ship name for Ariana/Hadie please tell me, I’m bad at those lol
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Face claims? Is including these considered cheesy these days or nah?
#disney descendants#ao3 link#descendants fanfiction#hadie descendants#princess ariana rose#face claims#fanfic#writing#disney#moodbaords
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