#they're all idiots your honor and I love them to bits
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Auree's Assumptions
Father had told her to try to befriend Prince Ayal'aran. Easier said than done when Auree barely knew if she wanted to or not. Outward he seemed like the quiet, intellectual type; a refined gentleman for a lack of better words. Considering his close friendship with the tall barbarian menace however, along with the flashes of him she'd gleaned from her accidental readings of both the prince and the menace, Auree wasn't quite sure what to think.
Adding on this engagement thing, and she really was rather disinclined to approach him. She knew their betrothal was but a political tool, her feelings entirely irrelevant to the equation. It rankled, honestly, but what could she even do? Absolutely nothing that would endanger this tentative agreement is what.
Sighing to herself she steps out into the gardens for some fresh air, and hopefully some new perspectives or something or--There was Ayal'aran walking leisurely in her direction, carrying a pair of books in his arms.
If Auree curses the single curse word she knows, no one hears it as she turns on her heel and hides behind the door she was about to exit. Peeking through the little crack she left open she finds that he hadn't noticed her presence at all, all too absorbed in reading something lying on top of his books.
Out of curiosity she keeps watching him through the crack, paying special attention when Wy sneaks up behind him and settles a single vibrantly yellow rose in Ayal's hair right over his ear. Ayal gives a start, turns, and his shoulders relaxes. No, his entire posture does. Auree can't see his face, but she can see Wy's face, and there's open fondness on his face, his eyes seemingly never leaving Ayal's, even as he shrugs and grins to whatever Ayal is saying. Ayal is motioning to the rest of the small bouquet of flowers in Wy's hands. Wy responds with perplexity, then fluster as Ayal takes Wy's hand in his and drags him along somewhere, balancing his books with his other.
Auree is of a mind to follow them, but has no confidence in herself that she'll manage it without being discovered.
-:-
A bit later in the day she overhears some servants talking about the gardeners being distraught as several rose bushes and other flowerbeds had been mysteriously massacred yet again. No culprits had been found, but it had to be that...that...no, they didn't dare say it, for fear of invoking Prince Amreth's wrath. Or worse, Prince Ayal'aran's disappointment. Badmouthing their new...friend. This phrase never came without a wince.
Auree wondered if the search for the culprits had been done at all, as she found them laughably easily(accidentally). In a corner of the gardens, at one of the seemingly less used pavilions surrounded by tall hedges, she stumbles over the two, knees touching as they're sitting crosslegged on the ground braiding the flowers? She watches them for a while from around the edge of the hedge.
"Yes, now, take the other stem, and move it across..."
"Repeating it won't make it make any more sense." Wy grumbles. Ayal sniggers. He watches Wy struggle a bit more before lifting his finished wreath and settling it softly in Wy's curls. Wy nearly goes crosseyed trying to see it. When he gives up that, his eyes catch Auree's and Auree can feel the air chill.
"You...." Wy's eyes narrows at her. Ayal looks up at Wy at that, turns to see what's taken Wy's attention and freezes upon spotting Auree as well.
The silence that descends is stifling, and Auree debates whether it'd be best if she just ran. Wy seems to have other plans however. He glances between her and Ayal and seems to get an idea. He gestures for her to come over, and for some inexplicable reason Auree hesitantly does. When she's close enough for Wy to not need to shout at her, Wy bafflingly asks, "you know how to braid?"
Auree stutters an affirmative, wide eyes flittering between the other two. Ayal looks about as confused as she feels. It's almost comforting.
"Could you braid these into his hair?" Auree doesn't think her eyes can possibly get any wider. The little bouquet of flowers Wy is holding up at her stares back at her accusatorily. What.
"Why?"
Wy looks at her blankly. "Because it would look nice on him, and I can't braid for shit." He lifts what has to be his attempt at braiding a flower wreath to illustrate. "Why else?"
Auree is confounded to the point where she doesn't even have the mind to ask any more questions and just does as she's been asked, holding her hand out for the flowers. Ayal side-eyes her for a moment, face carefully neutral, then nods in assent as he turns to present her his hair to be braided.
As Auree sets about gathering strands of Ayal's auburn hair, Wy continues his disastrous attempt at a wreath.
Auree can feel Ayal suppressing what she interprets as shivers, so she takes care not to touch his scalp more than absolutely necessary. Turns out however, that it was just Ayal suppressing laughter, as he eventually let's out an amused snigger. "You are surprisingly horrible at doing this kind thing," Ayal gestures to the crooked flower wreath falling apart in Wy's hands, "especially considering what you do for sport."
Wy pouts hard enough to look like a squirrel with it's cheeks full of nuts. "It's only sport here. Out there it's serious business."
"What do you mean? Sport? Business? You talk as if stealing is a legitimate--” Auree begins remarking, horrified.
Wy raises an eyebrow at her. "I can't very well actually steal from the people here. They're loyal subjects." Uncertainty blooms on his face and he leans towards Ayal, lowering his voice. "That is the right wording...right...?" Ayal coughs to hide a giggle as he nods, the movement small enough to not disturb Auree's braiding.
"Anyway. Ayal would be disappointed. Amreth too for that matter." He tacks on at the end as an afterthought.
"You're saying if they weren't loyal subjects you'd be stealing them dry?"
"I'm a pickpocket. Nobody walks around with their entire fortune in a single pocket. Nobody with any street smarts at least. And anyway, I only take one thing from each target." A sense of pride emanates from him as he says it. "And never from anyone who looks like they live in squalor."
Her hands are forced to follow Ayal's head around as he turns to look at her, curious for her reaction. She gives him an incredulous look that says 'this is the company you keep?'
He shrugs, but the amused smile tugging at his lips rats him out.
Conversation flows more easily from there, and Auree leaves with a warm feeling when she finally heads back to her father's afternoon lessons, a delicate wreath of pink and white flowers adorning her head.
-:-
Auree accidentally witnesses Wy's fight with the Pink Lady through the story of said Pink Lady mere hours after it's happened, the emotions so strong she spends a good while just hiccuping through tears. When her tears dry up, she scours the castle for him, worried, but he doesn't turn up anywhere. The servants, and even the guards, are unable to help her. When she asks Kaelan if he's seen Wy, he looks constipated and grits out a negative.
"I would much like to know where that...boy...is as well, Miss Auree."
The castle is eerily quiet the next two days, all the inexplicable things that fed the ghost rumours, keeping it all abuzz having inexplicably died down. The workers of the castle finally breathing more easily, no longer constantly looking over their shoulders after a silent mischief maker.
She spots Ayal'aran several times, but he's always too busy to talk to, his face set in a worried frown. He's rarely ever seen without that little black cat on his person as well; sometimes cradled in his arms on top of his books, other times resting around his shoulders or on his thighs.
When she finally finds a chance to speak to him he's reading by himself on a comfortable looking couch in the library, the cat curled up on his lap.
"Hey--" she begins and then nearly screams as the cat is suddenly a bushy haired teen; head resting where the cat used to be, forehead pressed into Ayal's waist, and the rest of him sprawled out over the rest of the couch.
Ayal'aran puts a finger to his lips as he holds her eyes with a serious expression. "Let him sleep." He whispers, so low that Auree reads his lips more than she actually hears him speaking.
Auree bites her lip. "Is he alright?" She whispers back.
Ayal glances down at Wy, frowning, leaning the open book on the armrest. "I don't know. He won't speak to me about...whatever it is."
"He was in a fight." Ayal gives her a questioning look, prompting her to continue. "With this pink lady. I...don't quite understand their connection, but that fight meant a lot to her, and I can only assume it did for him too." She gestures to Wy.
As she's speaking, Ayal's free hand settles lightly at Wy's neck, fingers drawing small circles into his hairline. The action hits Auree as exceptionally intimate, she's almost unsure as to whether she should be privy to it.
"That...makes sense. Wy did mention that she...was his adoptive mother...they aren't on the best of terms but…" Ayal murmurs. "Though...I'm sure he'll be fine after a few days of processing. Thank you for worrying so about him. I'm sure he appreciates it." The smile she gets is the most vibrant one yet, rendering her somewhat speechless.
Finding no more reason to stay, she leaves the two in the library, mind whirling like a maelstrom. Their closeness was so enviable she barely knew what to feel. Not that she wanted that kind of closeness with either of them for herself, just that she wanted something like that for herself in the future as well. That probably wasn't in the cards for her however, she was betrothed to Ayal'aran after all. There would be no--
Oh.
Oh no.
The uneasiness she had been carrying around suddenly made sense.
Of course Ayal'aran never showed any interest in her. If not for Wy including her in their conversations and allowing her meddling in their shenanigans, Ayal'aran would never even look at her unless he was curious about her reactions to Wy's antics. He seemed more than content cuddling Wy regardless of what form he was in as well. Everything he did seemed to center around Wy.
Ayal'aran...and Wy...were sweethearts. Ayal'aran probably wasn't even interested in girls. It explained everything.
Auree stumbles in behind a curtain to hide serself from view. Best not alert the servants to her plight.
She didn't blame the prince for avoiding her initially. She would have too if she was in his position. The reality of it all weighs on her like a mountain and she sobs for the loveless marriage she's being forced into. For being a wedge in Ayal and Wy's happiness purely by existing. For the absolute lack of anything she can do to make it all better. It's all too much.
-:-
When Kaelan later makes his way around to the corridor where several servants had reported hearing sobbing noises, scared out of their minds that it was a new kind of ghost roaming the hallways, he finds nothing. He feels his headache worsening. There was no way the rumor mill wouldn't latch onto this new ghost with a vengeance, especially now that there was a lull in the other more 'known' ghosts' activities.
-:-
Meanwhile, back in the library, Ayal finishes his book. Wy is still sleeping soundly, and Ayal finds he doesn't want to wake him prematurely. Seeing Wy in such low spirits the last few days has had his heart aching for him. Having heard the circumstances from Auree earlier had explained much, but nothing of how to alleviate the turbulent emotions Wy seemed to be doing his absolute best to avoid dealing with by any means necessary, even to the point of staying in his cat form for as long as he absolutely could extend the transformation time. Sleeping seemed to be one of his escapes as well, him falling asleep while transformed and popping back into human form earlier not even the first time it had happened.
As he's still debating whether he'll be able to grab the cushion from the other end of the couch so that he can make an attempt at getting another book to read, Auree peeks her blonde head around the nearest shelf again. Her eyes are still a bit puffy, but her face is set with determination. Ayal nods at her in silent greeting. She steps closer at that, and gingerly settles down on the other end of the couch, careful not touching Wy's sleeping form. Her eyes zero in on Wy's head, and Ayal is suddenly acutely aware of his hand still petting the soft curls.
Collecting herself a bit, Auree bites her lip. "I...I thought it best we talked." She says, near a whisper. Ayal appreciates her conscientiousness.
"About?"
"W-well, I...We're betrothed. So. Well. It'd be best if we managed to communicate well with eachother, no? Like adults."
Ayal just nods, not quite sure where this is leading.
"I've been thinking a lot and...and marriage is really just...just a t-title. Especially ours. More a formality to make the agreement between our two nations binding, so I don't expect you to come to love me. Of course I would like for us to at the very least become friends, if nothing else. However, I won't be expecting any more of you than that, so...so please don't think I wish to be a-a hindrance to your happiness. Don't feel like you need to hide it from me either. I-I support you, both of you, all the way. Even after we formally get married. Though I hope you will award me the same freedom. Alright?" She finishes in a rush, eyes wide as saucers.
That...was a lot to unpack, and Ayal just nods mutely as he's still processing it all. Auree takes it as an affirmation, pulling a much needed relieved breath. She pats her skirts and gets to her feet, seemingly feeling much lighter than when she came in.
"Thank you for listening." She murmurs, and Ayal realises that this must be the first time he's really seen her smile since she got to Nelrindenvane; she actually is kind of pretty too. She's gone before he gets to work out a single word in reply.
Wy nuzzles closer in his sleep and it tickles, distracting him a bit from his train of thought. But then--
Wait. Did Auree just--?? Ayal's eyes widen, and a blush rises till steam is coming out of his ears. Oh. Oh no. Oh shit.
#dnd#out of the abyss#oc#wy: the written saga#Ayal: Kitty should be petted doesn't matter what form he's in#Auree: is...is he cuddling him!?#Wy: Hm...this is nice. I guess Friends also do Sibling things like this <3#they're all idiots your honor and I love them to bits
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So I've thought a lot about how big an asshole jake would be if he introduced bob to his soulmate but I've only just considered how much would change if bob introduced jake to his... checkmate bagman
I love this idea so much. This can also be seen as a follow up to He's All That!
"All I'm saying, Baby on Board," Jake continued as he racked up the pool balls, "Is that it's the least you can do, considering that if it weren't for me, you'd still be single."
"And all I'm saying bagman is thanks again for your help and you'll get a shoutout in the ceremony," Bob sighed before taking another sip of his water. With the way Jake was bothering him, he was debating switching to beer.
"Jacob Floyd has a great ring to it and would be a wonderful way to honor the man responsible for your future children."
"All you did was tell her his name and that Bob was single," Mickey retorted, shaking his head as he grabbed a nearby pool stick.
"Summarizing what I did as merely telling her his name is insulting beyond belief. I sold Bob to Luna. Without me, she wouldn't have gone looking for him," Jake scoffed.
Unfortunately the woman of the hour was not here to confirm or deny if Jake was telling the truth or making up shit as he went along.
"And without us, he wouldn't have had those three shots to give him enough courage to continue talking to her," Bradley countered.
"Nor would I had bumped into her because you took my glasses," Bob muttered, rolling his eyes.
"Besides, Bradley Floyd sounds way better," He remarked, ignoring the scoff from Jake.
"Wait, why do you get a kid named after you?" Mickey chimed in.
"All I'm saying, is that you'd much rather start your kid off right by giving them my name than Bradshaw's."
"Why, you little-"
"Bob has to propose to her first before there are any kids to name!" Phoenix chimed in, pressing her beer bottle to her temple, hoping it would somehow take her away from all these idiots.
"He's working on it!" Bob had revealed earlier that he finally picked up the ring for her, which was what prompted this whole conversation.
"Working on what?" A sweet, lithe voice promptly caused everyone to shut up. Everyone, except Bob ironically.
"Hey darlin'! Where's your friend?" Bob asked before placing a kiss on his girlfriend's cheek.
"She's on her way! I was going to wait outside for her, but wanted to say hi first," She paused, a sweet smile overtaking her face, "Hi Robby."
"Hi Luna," Bob giggled before planting a kiss on her lips that was so sweet, the nearby squad groaned.
"They're so stupidly cute," Phoenix muttered.
"I'm going to go wait for her," Luna was about to turn when she stopped, her eyes meeting Jake's, "You ready Bagman?"
Jake scoffed to cover his confusion, "Ready for what?"
She giggled, the bridge of her nose creasing as she smiled, making it impossible to be annoyed with her, "To meet your future wife!"
And with that she left, practically skipping out of the bar.
"Floyd, what the hell is she talking about?" Jake asked, turning his full attention to the bespectacled WSO, one had an uncharacteristic smirk on his face.
"We're not going to name our kid after you. Instead, we're going to introduce you to your future wife." Bob was pretty confident for once, not at all shaken by having all eyes on him.
"I'm sorry?" was all Jake could find himself saying.
"Don't worry Bagman, you'll love her. She's perfect for you."
"Floyd, no offense-"
"Offense already taken."
"But your idea of the perfect woman is a bit different from mine."
It wasn't. In fact, it was pretty similar. But Bob knew Jake wasn't ready for that conversation yet.
"Yeah Bob, you sure this girl is right for Hangman?" Phoenix lowered her voice, "You really want to subject her to Bagman? How bad is she?"
"She's perfect for Bagman," Bob assured her, not that if convinced Nat-or anyone else. Certainly not Jake.
"Whatever baby on board," Jake scoffed, "Just know that when she comes crying to you, all heartbroken that she's not....."
His voice trailed off as his eyes fully took in the sight of the sun dress-clad figure that was now next to Luna at the bar.
"She's not the what?" Javy asked, nudging Jake.
Javy received no response, as Jake was too mesmerized by how fucking adorable you were when you pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose.
He could see that you were listening to Luna intently as she pointed out people in the dagger squad.
When your eyes met his, Jake swore he could feel the Earth stop moving.
"The future Mrs. Seresin," He said with a dreamy sigh, causing Bradley and Natasha to wonder if somehow an alien had taken over his body. Because that would make more sense the other alternative.
Jake all but shoved the pool stick to Javy, his eyes focused on you. The smile and small wave you sent his way caused Jake to nearly trip over his feet.
"Where the hell are you going, the game isn't finished," Mickey called out to no avail.
"I'm going to meet my future wife," Jake said, annoyed that he even had to explain it because wasn't it obvious?
The squad watched in wonder (except for Bob, who still had a smug look on his face) as Jake made his way over to you and Luna.
"Bob, this girl seems sweet. You sure you want to subject her to Bagman?" Bradley asked, legitimate concern in his eyes.
Bob shrugged, "She teaches seventh grade. She'll be able to put Bagman in his place just fine. See?"
The group watched as you handed Jake several bottles of beer to hold. Jake was more than happy to oblige, staring at you with what could only be described as heart eyes.
Luna skipped ahead, giving the squad a thumbs up as she sat down next to Bob.
"How's it going darlin'?" Bob asked before pressing a light but sweet kiss to her cheek.
"Bagman tried to kiss her on the wrist and she lectured him about how it's not the 1950s," Luna giggled while everyone else stared at her in shock.
Everyone except for Bob.
"He apologized profusely. That's also why he offered to carry the drinks."
"Has he ever held anyone's drinks besides his own?" Mickey asked.
"Better question, has he ever apologized within five minutes of offending someone?" Bradley countered.
"He sure as fuck hasn't," Natasha's eyes widened at the sight of Jake fucking Seresin offering the crook of his arm to you. After staring at the gesture long enough to make him sweat, you hooked your arm around his, letting him lead you back to everyone.
"Bob, what the fuck did you do?" Reuben asked.
"He just needed someone to soften the edges!" Luna explained. Natasha was about to scoff at the mere idea of Hangman being soft.
But then she saw how gentle Jake was when he offered you his stool and handed you a beer. The smile he had on his face was just that, uncharacteristically soft.
Maybe Bob and his lady were onto something.
"Hey Bagman!" Bob called out.
"Yeah?" Jake turned around, trying his best hide his annoyance at Bob interrupting the conversation he was having with you.
"Robert Seresin has a great ring to it."
#my writing#jake seresin x reader#Bob Floyd#jake seresin#Hangman fluff#hangman x you#jake hangman x reader#hangman x y/n#jake seresin fic#jake seresin x you#jake seresin x y/n#jake hangman imagine#jake hangman x you#jake hangman seresin x reader#hangman x reader#hangman fic#jake hangman seresin
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Wing Man Part 6
Fic Summary: Steve 'the Hair' Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you'll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie. (1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)
Chapter Summary: What DID he mean by five? The second meeting.
5.1k words
A/N: How are we feeling in a post-"Flight of Icarus" world, y'all? I knew from the beginning that I'd want to add some of the lore in and let me tell you, I LOVE Ronnie Ecker. For those of you who did not read the book, or haven't had a chance to, Ronnie is Eddie's best friend who ended up with a full scholarship to NYU. They're siblings, your honor.
Also if anyone can show me on this map where the plot is going, I'd really appreciate it.
This late at night, the only sounds in the trailer park came from the occasional dog barking and the echoes of Eddie’s tapes blasting as he pulled up to Wayne’s trailer. His uncle was working tonight as usual, which would normally allow Eddie time to hog the tv before passing out for a few precious hours before he had to get up for school.
Tonight however, his mind was buzzing with what had just happened less than an hour ago. He liked you, he wasn’t sure how much yet but he did. You were sharp and knew your stuff about metal. It helped that you were cute. Really cute.
He liked seeing you in the passenger seat of his car, matching wits with his friends and ranting about Ozzy. He liked seeing you laughing and the way you watched him play. He really liked the way you had fiddled with the pick he’d thrown at you at the end of the set.
Eddie had never done that before. He’d wanted to, but never had anyone’s attention like that before- no. That wasn’t true. There had been one other person who’d listened to him play like that, two years ago.
Was he always gonna fold to the site of a pretty girl actually paying attention to his music?
“Of course you are.” Ronnie’s voice echoed on the phone. “And I’m gonna laugh every time you do.”
Eddie groaned, holding the receiver to his ear as his forehead pressed against the front of the fridge. He hadn’t planned on running to her with this, but he was nowhere near able to wind down. He hadn’t even expected Ronnie to pick up the phone this late at night with the time zone difference and the fact that it was a school night. He’d have to push his stash a bit harder to pay Wayne back for the long distance call.
The past two years had been a slow crawl of building back trust up with Veronica Ecker. The two had gone almost a whole summer without talking before Eddie had basically groveled for forgiveness outside of Granny Ecker’s trailer before Ronnie left for New York. She had forgiven him enough to let him give her a ride to the airport.
“Last time?” He’d asked.
“Last time.” She’d repeated.
“So why didn’t you shack up with her tonight?” Ronnie asked. “You got her into your van, and you dropped her off like a gentleman.”
“I don’t know, I panicked.” Eddie sighed, bonking his head against the fridge a few times. “She was right there, and she was leaning in and all I saw was Paige leaning in-”
“You know not every girl who shares your taste in music is Paige, right?” Eddie could practically see Ronnie rolling her eyes on the other end of the line.
“Any girl that shares my taste in music ends up fucking off to the opposite end of the country.”
This made Ronnie laugh. “You’re an idiot. Paige fucked off back to her job and I fucked off to college.”
“Fucking off is fucking off.”
“Maybe you need to fuck off.”
“I tried, remember?”
She remembered. Both of them remembered.
“Look, stop being a dipshit.” Ronnie said after a moment of awkward silence. “You’re graduating this year, right?”
“Uhhh...”
“Eddie.”
“Yeah, yeah I’m working on it. I just need those last stupid two classes and then I’m home free.” Eddie confirmed.
“You can’t stay in high school forever.” Ronnie said. “And you’re gonna realize that there’s life outside of Hawkins. Have you even talked to Paige since then?”
He hadn’t, and they both knew it. Eddie gave up two months after she’d bailed him out of jail. Two months of dead air silence. He got the hint.
“No.”
“Then stop worrying about one girl from over two years ago!” Eddie could feel the phantom pain of Ronnie punching him in the arm like she always used to. “Get laid and graduate, Munson. You earned it.”
Eddie snorted, sliding down the fridge to sit on the cool floor. “Is that the only advice you got for me, Ecker?”
“It’s the only advice you need. Did you pass that test last week?” Ronnie asked.
“By the skin of my teeth.” Eddie sighed, leaning his head back against the fridge.
“Your new girl graduated, maybe she can help you study.”
“She’s not my girl. She’s a girl that I’ve met a handful of times-”
“That’s turning your brain to mush.”
“She doesn’t even know who I am, Ronnie.” He fiddled with the chord in his hand, watching the spiral wind and unwind around his fingers. It was already stretched out pretty bad, with a few spirals already tangled beyond repair like his old slinky from when he was a kid.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Ronnie asked. “She doesn’t know you, that means she doesn’t feed into the bullshit of the rumor mill.”
Ronnie had a point and he hated it, but that’s why he called her to begin with. Ronnie was the only person who could cut through his Munson bullshit and give it to him straight. He missed it. As much as he enjoyed the power he had to protect his little lost sheepies, they were all too intimidated to actually stand up to him and call him out the way that Ronnie would.
“Yeah, you’re right. As usual.” Eddie could hear her snort and he couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “So why the hell are you even awake right now? Up til 2 am on a school night, Ecker?”
“It’s barely past midnight, the time zone isn’t that off. I was studying for a test, but hearing you complain about your love life is a far more productive use of my time.”
“You’re using me to slack off, aren’t you?”
“If I have to look at my flashcards one more time tonight my eyes are gonna go square. How’s Granny doing?”
“She’s an empty nester and is determined to turn me into her replacement grandson until you visit again.” Eddie shook his head. “She threatened to give me a haircut the last time she dropped off a plate for Wayne.”
Ronnie had come back to visit a grand total of five times since she’d left, returning for holidays and summers to visit Granny Ecker and by extension Eddie. Each time she’d come back with stories of law school and how different New York is.
It seemed impossible, everything that Ronnie had told him about going to college and about life outside their small town. She was playing Dungeons and Dragons still, having found a group that would play with her. According to her, being a rules lawyer for the game at a law school hit way different than it had their small Hellfire group in high school. No one even cared that they played outside of a few students who had better things to do than enact violence against a few nerds.
Then again, in law school everyone was some sort of nerd. Eddie wondered if even a freak would be accepted there. Well, socially at least. He wasn’t delusional enough to think he’d be able to be accepted into law school with his grades. Ronnie had invited him up to visit a few times, but there was never time or money to do it.
The two continued talking for another hour, catching up until Ronnie was scolding him for staying up so late on a school night.
“Yeah? And what’s your excuse?” Eddie said. “It’s almost 4:20 am there.”
“Ha. Ha. Again, ha.” Ronnie said. “Still not how timezones work. And my first class doesn’t start until noon.”
Right. In college you didn’t have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn every day.
“Night, Ecker.”
“Night, Munson. Graduate and get laid.”
“Does it matter the order?”
“Good night, Eddie.”
Talking to Ronnie had eased his nerves, but there was still something inside that wouldn’t let him lay down and go to sleep. It was late now, way later than he intended to stay up tonight. The night he played at the Hideout always had him up late, and his teacher already considered him more useless than usual on Wednesdays. It’s not like anyone would care if he slept in class, unless they were in a particularly foul mood.
He made his way to a stack of books in his room rummaging through a pile or two until he found what he was looking for. Eddie’s copy of Lord of the RIngs was well loved at best, and completely trashed at worst. The cover of the paperback was nearly torn off, taped back together haphazardly over the years. Pages were dogeared, the spine was cracked, notes were scribbled in the margins, and his name was scribbled in messy cursive on the front page declaring that this book belonged to Eddie Munson and that he was in third grade.
Eddie stripped out of most of his clothes, tossing his jewelry on his nightstand, and hopped into bed. He turned on a small lamp and opened the book. He could probably recite the first chapter from memory if he tried, the words on the page a comfortable lullabye for his wound up mind. But tonight he flipped to a page near the end where his bookmark was. The flower made out of blue construction paper wasn’t nearly as old as the book, and only in better shape because it never left the safe pages of Tolkein’s writing.
His eyes glanced at his arm again, your phone number a temporary tattoo on his skin until it washed off. Shit, it was going to wash off eventually. Eddie grabbed a pen from under his bed and added another scribble to the inside of the book before copying your number carefully onto the paper flower. At least this way he’d always know where it was.
With that aside, Eddie didn’t make it through three pages of his book before he passed out with the light still on.
Fall Semester, 1984
The PrinciPAL’s office was just as interesting and inviting as it always was, which is to say not at all. Eddie was slumped back on a chair, watching as Janice sorted through paperwork, pretending to look busy so that she could avoid any small talk with ‘that Munson boy’. He had been waiting for Higgin’s to show up for almost fifteen minutes now, because why shouldn’t he waste Eddie’s time at this point? The worst that was going to happen today is that they’d do their little song and dance, Eddie would plead his case that the flyers were absolutely serious and that Chris Morrison had every intent to run for student council, and that it was all of the club that had made the posters, Higgins would shake his head and not believe Eddie for a second (which to be fair, this would be the first time that Eddie would admit privately that it was his fault), they’d go back and forth until Eddie got some form of detention or Saturday school.
Honestly, the worst part would be rescheduling Hellfire if he wound up in detention.
Eddie had counted out 13 paper clips that Janice had used in her papershifting before the door to the front office opened up again. He looked up, expecting to see Higgins walk in, ignore him for another five minutes, before Janice would let Eddie go in.
He didn’t expect to see you, pale and shaken, clutching a teacher’s note in your hand. Eddie watched as you handed the note over to Janice who read it, shook her head, and pointed at the chair next to himself. Your eyes never left the floor as you sat next to him, staring at the cheap carpet as if you could somehow burn a hole in it and disappear.
Trouble was no stranger to Eddie, and Eddie was no stranger to trouble. In Hawkins the name ‘Munson’ might as well be in the thesaurus next to the word. This wasn’t his first rodeo, and it would be far from his last as long as Higgins stayed the princiPAL. He’d walk away with a lecture and a sigh and then it would be business as normal.
The look on your face though, that was far from the mild annoyance he felt. You look downright traumatized at the idea of having been sent here. Eddie glanced up at Janice who deigned to make eye contact with him now. Her eyes flicked between the two of you, a disapproving look behind her purple frames as if this was somehow Eddie’s fault that you had ended up here as well. But then, as far as any of the faculty from the office was concerned, even him being enrolled at this school was a death sentence to the rest of the poor student body. Eddie was a disease that they would try to contain until they had the cure to remove him.
The shaking of your knee made your chair (and his chair by proxy) rattle slightly. The quiet of the office and the mundane shuffling of Janice’s papers only added to the tension that was radiating off you.
“Janice, is Higgin’s gonna be long?” Eddie finally asked, and your bouncing knee stopped for just a moment before going back to its nervous movement.
“He’s in a very important meeting.” Came the reply over a stack of papers, still not looking at Eddie.
He sighed again and looked over at you, trying to place where he knew your face. Your eyes were a bit red, and you looked like you were on the verge of crying. Shit, he needed to do something before he had to ask Janice for the tissue box.
“First time?” Eddie asked, and when you didn’t respond he nudged your knee with his.
You jumped slightly, head snapping up. It was a wonder you didn’t give yourself whiplash and it would have been almost funny to Eddie had you not looked like a deer in the headlights looking at him.
“I... Huh?” your voice cracked slightly.
“What are ya in for?” Eddie did his best to give you a smile which he was sure made him look more like a serial killer than a comfort. It was rare he wished that he had his dad’s smile, but in cases like this he’d make an exception.
You looked at the paper in your hand and swallowed. “Uh... skipped.”
“Skipped school or just class?” Eddie prompted, trying to get you to talk more. If you were talking, then you weren’t crying. That’s what he hoped at least.
“Class.” He didn’t think you’d say anymore but you surprised him. “US History.” Eddie caught the way your eyes darted to Janice again as if to make sure she wasn’t listening in, but Janice had better things to do than to eavesdrop on two delinquents. “I wasn’t... I had a bad day. I'm having a bad day. I felt like I was going to explode and I went to the library.”
Eddie nodded, wondering what had happened today that made you need to duck out. It wasn’t his business, and frankly Higgin’s was going to grill you enough as it was.
“Rookie mistake.” He said instead.
“Rookie...?”
Eddie kept his voice low and leaned in closer to you as if telling you a secret. “If you’re gonna skip, you can’t go to the library. You might as well have walked into the teacher’s lounge and announced that you were cutting class.”
You let out a sharp breath that he swore counted for a laugh. “Thanks for the heads up, can you tell me that a few hours ago?”
There was color returning to your face now and Eddie kept going. His brown eyes scanned your face, trying to place where he knew you from. Hawkins was a small town, and there was nothing about you that screamed ‘I’m new!’.
He liked your sarcasm though, and his ‘comforting’ grin shifted into a genuine smile. “If you’re gonna ditch, you need to go to the bathroom or go outside.” He said. “Especially for last period. Go hide outside in the woods and you can slip into the parking lot seamlessly without anyone noticing. By the end of the day the teachers are barely taking attendance anyway.”
“Have you been in the girls rooms here?” you asked, shaking your head. “I think I’d rather take my chances here than stay in there longer than I’d have to.” Eddie wasn’t sure if you were trying to make a joke or if you were serious.
“Would you rather hide in the boys room?” he asked. “I swear it only smells like piss almost all of the time and you’d end up in the splash zone even if you were in a stall.”
That got a laugh out of you, a genuine one. Your shoulders were relaxing and you looked down at the paper again and took a deep breath that you exhaled with a sigh.
“I’ve never been in trouble before.” you said, your hands starting to bend and fold the paper on your lap absently. “I’m not good at being in trouble.”
“Well, lucky for you I’m here.” Eddie nudged your knee again with his. “Being in trouble is kind of my job here at Hawkin’s High. I’m a professional, you know. If I wasn’t here taking up all of Principal Higgin’s time he might have to actually do his job.”
That last part was louder, as he directed it to Janice who refused to take the bait and only reached for her lilac stapler instead.
A small smack on his arm drew his attention back to you, you were smiling at him looking astonished. “You’re gonna get us in trouble!” you whispered at him.
“We’re already in trouble.” Eddie reminded you, his smile never fading. “Look, you’ve never been in trouble before, right? You’re gonna be fine. Just give him a good sob story about being overwhelmed with school, or about a sick pet. If you can squeeze out some tears that’s even better. The worst that he’s gonna do is give you a slap on the wrist and maybe detention if he’s in a shit mood”
You take in his words, listening to him carefully and taking in every word he was saying as if this was life or death. Eddie admittedly, had purposefully slipped into his Dungeon Master voice. It was a skill that normally only worked on his little sheepies in his club, and that was after semesters of training his players to listen and pay attention to his words or else it would be life or death for their characters.
Having someone else listen to him like that? It felt really good.
Your mouth started to open to say something but then the office door opened again and Higgin’s stepped in, nodding to Janice and then looking at the two of you. There was an accusatory look in his eyes as he made eye contact with Eddie again, and it was clear what that look said. Leave her alone, don’t make things worse for her than they already are.
“Munson.” Higgins said and it took everything in him to stay still and not flinch at his last name. He was used to the weight that came with his name, but he hadn’t wanted you to know who he was. Not after he just remembered where he knew you from, glancing down at the note that you had folded into a flower in a fit of nerves.
“I heard you missed me, Sir.” Eddie forced his eyes to meet Higgin’s. “You really should just start saying hi in the hallways instead of inviting me to these little chats every week. You’re taking away valuable learning time from me, you know.”
If the two of them had been alone, Higgins would have snapped back at Eddie about being a smartass. But you were there, and the color had drained from your face again, and there was a shine to your eyes that was threatening to spill over your waterline. Higgins looked at you and motioned for you to follow him into his office.
Eddie wished that you would turn and look at him before disappearing into the PrincePAL’s office. He could imagine you turning to look at him for comfort, he’d give you a smile that would put you at ease and a thumbs up. You’d give him another smile and walk in feeling brave.
Instead it was like you forgot he was there as your figure disappeared behind the heavy wood door that shut with a heavy click.
Of course Higgins had you come in first, even though Eddie had already been sitting here since the beginning of the period when he’d been called in.
He was tempted to go over to the door and press his ear up against it to listen in on what he was saying to you but even Janice would scold him for that. So there Eddie sat for another ten minutes as he waited for you to step out again.
Higgin’s was the one to open the door and let you out of the office, as if he were some gentleman instead of Eddie’s own personal warden five days a week. You walked out and to Eddie’s surprise you gave him a nod and mouthed thank you as you slipped back out the door and into the hallway.
Eddie’s eyes followed you until he couldn’t see you anymore and it took Higgin’s standing in front of him with folded arms and saying his full government name for Eddie to snap back to reality.
“Munson. A word about your little flyers?”
“Well, I’d say a picture is worth a thousand words-”
“In my office.”
Eddie didn’t remember much else about that talk, only remembering the white paper flower that had been carelessly tossed into the trash next to Higgin’s desk.
“He still hasn’t called you?” Steve asked as you, him, and Robin continued your closing routine. The day had been busy, with almost everyone in Hawkins coming to rent a movie for the weekend. Robin was stocking the candy while you wiped down the sticky counter where children had been touching all day. Who’s idea was it to leave out free suckers on the counter anyway?
Oh right, that was your idea because you loved Halloween.
“Nope.” you said, your voice a little tense. It had been almost two weeks since that night at the Hideout. You hadn’t returned to the dive bar, hoping that Eddie would call you and make the next move. Each passing day you had stayed as close to the phone as possible when you were home and you’d checked your voicemail every day when you got home for any sign that he’d attempted to reach out.
Nothing.
You shouldn’t feel this rejected but you did. It was far too early to tell if you had any feelings beyond initial attraction to the guy, but... you’d felt something. An enjoyment of bantering with him and an ease that came as naturally as your friendship with Robin and Steve.
Plus, you had to admit it, he was really fucking hot. Seeing him play guitar two weeks ago had haunted your dreams and slipped into a few of your fantasies when you were alone.
You kept that part to yourself though, that was the last thing that Steve or Robin needed to hear. Besides, that was Steve’s job to go far too into detail about his sex life. Steve had tried ribbing you about going home with Eddie but you’d told him that you were a complete gentleman with him.
That night had left you feeling electrified, almost high as you danced around your room as you got ready for bed. Even as his odd parting rattled around your brain, you couldn’t help but to feel excited at the idea of seeing him again.
Then a few days went by. Then a week. And now two weeks later you hadn’t heard from him. The kids hadn’t stopped by either so you couldn’t hassle them about Eddie either. Even if they had, you weren’t sure if you could ask about him, you didn’t want to come across as desperate.
“Did you ever figure out what he meant by ‘five times?’” Robin asked, opening up a squished package of Reese's Cups. “Like, didn’t you say you didn’t know him?”
You threw your hands up before tossing the paper towels you were using to clean in the trash can.
“I have no idea.” you said. “Either I’m bad at math, he’s bad at math, or maybe we’re both stupid.”
“He did get held back a few times.” Steve muttered to himself.
“There’s a chance that you two have met before though.” said Robin, “I mean think about it, you’re both weirdos who went to the same school. Shouldn’t you both have bumped into each other before?”
“You’d think so, but my group kind of kept to ourselves.” you said with a sigh. “We were private weirdos. When I DID try and make other friends-”
“Yeah, yeah, Chris Morrison shot you down.” Steve said, waving his hand.
“Oh, you heard that story?” you laughed. “I didn’t think I mentioned it to you before.”
Steve gave you a blank stare that only made you laugh more. “I swear you keep talking about that guy more than Eddie. Maybe I should track him down and set you up on a blind date with him instead.”
“Don’t you dare!”
“Hey, that could be fun!” Robin added. “We’ll dress you up super hot, set you up with Chris, and then you can turn him down instead!”
“Excuse you, Robin. I am always super hot.” you declared, straightening out your unflattering Family Video vest. “Who wouldn’t want a piece of this?”
You hadn’t done laundry in a week, and your hair had seen better days. The green polyester vest was wrinkled and if Keith saw you looking sloppy he’d probably have words about it. Not big words or even intimidating words, but words nonetheless. It was night and day compared to how you’d looked at the Hideout and the arcade earlier in the month. But it wasn’t like you had anyone to impress while you were at work anyway.
“Hey, nerdy chicks can be hot.” Steve said. “I mean, Nancy’s an academic nerd and I was crazy about her.”
You hummed thoughtfully and turned to Robin. “How about we get married instead?” you asked. “You, me, a fuck ton of cats, and a tax break. What do you say?”
Robin laughed and shook her head. “You aren’t my type.” Her eyes darted nervously to Steve for a split second and you sighed dramatically.
“Guess it’s just me and the cats I’ll eventually adopt.” you said. “Not even a tax break.”
“You know, Keith thinks you’re cute-”
“I am going to pretend that you did not just say that, Harrington.” you said firmly. “Nope, not happening. Uh-uh. Absolutely not.”
“He’s not... that bad?” Robin said, but you could hear the pain in her voice through the laughter. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”
“The lady is trying not to think actually.” you laugh. “We’re closed, I’m actually done thinking. I just wanna finish cleaning up and go home. What’s left?”
“Rewinding the returns,-”
“Ugh.”
“Cleaning up the kids movies,-”
“Ugh.”
“And cleaning the bathroom.”
“UGHHHHHH.”
“Would you rather clean up the porn room?” asked Robin.
“Yes actually, I would.” You said. “Whatever they think about doing in that room is what they do end up doing in the bathroom.”
“Gross.”
Steve sighed “Okay, I’ll be the hero and save you ladies from cleaning the bathroom. Robin, you fix the kids section, and you can rewind the tapes.”
“I thought I was in charge here.” You crossed your arms.
“Okay, did you have a better way to divide and conquer?”
“...No.”
“Then let’s hurry up and-”
Ding!
“Who didn’t lock the door?!” you asked.
“It was Steve’s job to-” Robin started.
“Oh, shit. Hi.” Steve was staring at the person who had just walked in. You turned around and your heart jumped in your chest and your stomach dropped.
“Cursing in front of customers, Harrington?” Eddie said. “Now that’s not very professional of you.”
Robin’s eyes were darting so fast between you and Eddie that you were surprised she wasn’t giving herself vertigo. You tried to give her a pointed glare but your friend either didn’t get the hint or refused to.
“Well, we’re closed. You can’t be a customer if you can’t pay.” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips.
Eddie looked away from Steve and made eye contact with you. It had been two weeks since you’d seen him, and you glazed at his arm for a second, trying to see if the faded remains of your phone number were still stamped on his arm. Unfortunately for you he was wearing a heavy leather jacket and you had not yet developed x ray vision. Perhaps in another genre.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Eddie asked and you, ignoring Steve who looked mildly offended.
You stood there in shock for a second before Robin nudged you in the rib.
“I- uh. I have to finish closing.” you said, snapping out of it.
“Steve and I can handle the rest of closing!” Robin grabbed Steve and shook his shoulder.
“Guys, I’m literally in charge of you both. I can’t leave before you.” You said, already reaching for your bag under the counter.
“We can handle it!” Steve said.
“And I can handle Steve!” Robin added. “We close without you and Keith all the time, remember?”
You could trust Robin, and as long as Steve didn’t knock down any displays then it wouldn’t take them more than another ten minutes to finish up. You were so tempted to turn them down, make Eddie wait as you had waited for him for the past two weeks.
But you were already stepping behind the counter towards Eddie and tossing the keys to lock up to Robin. Keith would murder you and write you up (in that order) if he knew what you were doing but looking up at the roundest pair of brown eyes you’d ever seen had you in the mood to make questionable choices.
You shrugged off your vest and tossed it at Steve, in an attempt to make yourself look like you hadn’t spent the whole day dealing with unruly customers and screaming kids. Part of you almost wished that you had agreed to bathroom duty, if only to give you an excuse to look in a mirror and straighten yourself out.
“Thanks, guys.” you gave them a quick nod, catching sight of Robin’s knowing smirk and Steve shaking his head before walking out the door that Eddie was holding open for you.
The last thing you heard was the scrambling of the entrance to Family Video being locked.
Part 7
Dividers by @strangergraphics
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ONLY FOOLS FALL FOR YOU. ( alhaitham x reader )
╰┈➤ some feelings came to haunt you after ten years since the last time you saw him.
pairings — alhaitham x fem!reader.
warnings — rivals / enemies to lover ish, slow burn, reader and alhaitham are in their middle twenties, reader has a pyro vision and is also a dancer and actress, reader is also the daughter of a genshin character, angst and a bit of fluff (happy ending of course but they're idiots in love).
word count — 8.1k
notes — june is back with another long fic for genshin! this one was supposed to be posted ages ago but i only had the time to do it now. i hope you guys will enjoy! reblogs and feedbacks are appreacited <3
lesser lord kusanali was a forbidden matter in your house, but you were sure she was the one who pushed you to be what you were today.
being the daughter of the newest sage in sumeru had its perks, but you hated it. you hated the expectations everyone put on yourself, of how you should follow in your father’s footsteps and join the akademiya — everyone was sure you already had your vacancy there, with how important your father became in such a few moments after his promotion as a sage. but you never cared for scholar subjects, not in the way your two childhood friends did.
alhaitham and kaveh had different interests, but they could enroll in the akademiya with no problem, because their line of study was actually respected by the sages and other scholars. yours, on the other hand, was looked down on and made fun of by every single one of your father’s, and him too, friends. as much as you tried not to look crestfallen when you heard them talking about the performers of the grand bazaar, alhaitham’s hand always managed to find yours when he was present in such gatherings — and you hoped that, when he wasn’t around, nobody would notice the change in your behavior.
the arts were what called you: music, dancing, acting.
you could see yourself becoming a performer at the grand bazaar, dancing and acting for the honor of the dendro archon. the applause and excited screams of the audience were what you wanted to pursue, and not false wishes and the quietness of the akademiya. you thrived when alhaitham and kaveh, albeit forced by you, watched your makeshift plays about the archons and the dances you created in your head. you were aware they pitied you — kaveh with his dreams of being an architect and alhaitham’s love for all kinds of knowledge were much more suitable for sumeru city than your passions for the arts.
that’s why you never expected them to support you in your decision of going against your father’s wishes to join the akademiya, and running away to the grand bazaar to join a theater troupe at the age of fifteen, inspired by a dream you had with the archon of your nation.
it has been almost ten years, but you still remembered your father’s harsh words as if it had happened just yesterday — of how much of a disappointment you were for the family, how he would be able to explain to his peers and your future master that you decided to throw away the bright future it has been given to you, how ungrateful you were and how other people wished they were on your shoes. your mother remained quiet the whole time, but you never expected her support, too. she always agreed with everything your father used to say, almost brainwashed by the luxuries he displayed in front of her. in a way, she was, and the disappointed looks on their faces weren’t hurtful or a surprise for you.
although, what hurt the most was alhaitham’s reaction.
you had feelings from him ever since you knew what romantic love was, but they could never blossom into something more now, that you planned to run away from your home and probably never see your friends and family again.
kaveh was aware of this too, being your confidant and best friend, trying to persuade you to not give up on everything — alhaitham and the akademiya, but you couldn’t pretend happiness in doing something you hated just because of feelings you didn’t even know if it was reciprocated. if alhaitham really liked you, he would respect your wishes and want your happiness before anything else.
it seemed like he didn’t, having the same reaction as your father �� but his words were the ones who brought you to tears, his voice harsher and colder than you’ve ever heard growing up at his side, breaking your heart and cutting your skin like the blade he used to train. you almost gave up on your convictions and stayed in your home and went to the akademiya like your father wished, just to see him looking down at you with anything but the hatred dancing in his eyes.
but you could not. not when lesser lord kusanali appeared to you in a dream, only to tell you to follow your dreams. you could not turn your back against your god and not do what she wished — she was the god of wisdom, and you trusted her judgment.
and that’s why you turned your back to him, running away from your feelings for him and burying them in the deepest part of your heart. though, from time to time, you wondered what happened to him — did he and kaveh become scholars and follow their dreams just like yourself? how was the akademiya treating them? were they happy? had alhaitham found someone he loved more than his books?
you knew such an answer would break your heart even more, but the agony of not knowing was much more worse.
the grand bazaar welcomed you as if you were a lost daughter returning home after many years, and the zubayr theater became your new family. you were finally at the place you were destined to be, doing what you loved — captivating the audience with your movements and expression, bringing the toughest of men to his knees in broken sobs by your performances. the stage for you was like the library to the scholars of the akademiya, and you learned more and more every day you performed.
you weren't alone there, having the company of nilou, your fellow dancer and actress who shared the same passion for the arts and love for the dendro archon, and, despite the age difference between the both of you, you two become fast friends — more than friends you came to notice one day, because the younger girl became like a little sister to you in just a few months of knowing each other. and you couldn’t be happier by following the words of lesser lord kusanali, thanking her every day for whispering her wisdom for you in your dreams.
your days were spent rehearsing and performing, sometimes helping the merchants in the grand bazaar and planning more and more plays with your peers of the zubayr theater. it was like an act of resistance, almost, the performances you did — the people of sumeru were fond of the troupe’s plays, especially the children, and seeing the disapproval looks of the scholars were your fuel to not stop.
it was supposed to be one of those days for you. a dance performance was scheduled in the treasures street, always buzzing with people due to its stalls and merchants, but today was different — you received the intel that a bunch of scholars would be wandering the area, probably for a case study of whatever the akademiya was planning. it was the perfect opportunity to show those arrogant scholars at least a glimpse of the wonders of the performing arts, and you couldn’t help but dress like greater lord rukkhadevata was described in the records you remembered reading as a child, just to spite the scholars even more.
probably for a case study of whatever the akademiya was planning. it was the perfect opportunity to show those arrogant scholars at least a glimpse of the wonders of the performing arts, and you couldn’t help but dress like greater lord rukkhadevata was described in the records you remembered reading as a child, just to spite the scholars even more.
you winked at your musician, a teenage boy who held the same spite for the akademiya you did, starting your movements as soon as the sounds of the flute reached your ears. the flowing white sleeves and your long white and green skirt created a beautiful sight alongside the choreography nilou helped you to come up with, and the crowd’s cheers and boos didn’t reach your ears. whenever you were dancing, the outside world was shut down, your senses completely enveloped by the surrounding music. you moved as if you were made of water, a delicacy never seen before in the way your body spins.
your eyes were kept close, as you didn’t wish for an unpleasant view to take your focus away. performing in the open was more difficult than in the grand bazaar — people there, at least, were also enjoyers of the arts. however, you couldn’t just ignore the call to show more people how the arts were a form of wisdom, too.
the music ended, as well as your dance, and you bowed gracefully while opening your eyes to scan the crowd, the boos louder than anything else. but what was supposed to be a swift escape from the scholars and a few guards your vision managed to spot, was cut by a strong hold in your arm, dragging you away from your makeshift stage. too shocked to do anything else, you let yourself be pulled away from the crowd of scholars, their screams now louder that you were in the middle of them.
“take away this scum from our city, scribe!”
your eyes, that were cast down to your feet, widened at such words. scribe was the title your father had before he became a sage, and, even though it didn’t make sense being him the one who was dragging you, your heart still raced with fear. though, when you had enough courage to look properly at your captor when you were a few meters away from the scholars, it was someone who you never thought of seeing again.
those blue eyes, shining with the same rage it shone years ago, still haunted your dreams whenever you closed your eyes.
“let go of me, alhaitham!” you managed to say, besides the lump in your throat.
it was strange to see him, almost ten years after you left your house. alhaitham changed, of course — he was taller and more muscular, and his face was more sharp than it was before, now the face of an adult rather than a teenager’s one. his hair remained the same almost, only a bit shorter, but his eyes were still the ones you remembered from your childhood. you never forgot the exact shade of blue of them, of how the colors merged to create his pupils. they were mesmerizing, but it seemed that they would never look down at you with love on them once more.
“what were you thinking, y/n?” his voice was quiet but demanding, yet he didn't lose his composure, acting as if the rage in his words was nothing. “dancing in front of a crowd of people who hate the arts?” his grip on your arm tightened, and you couldn't find the same comfort you did as a teenager in his presence.
you were angry, far angrier than you originally thought you would be if you saw him again, and sad — even though your heart still beat only for him. “i would have escaped, scribe. like i always did.” venom laced his new title, something so familiar yet foreign. it didn't suit him. he wasn't supposed to follow in your father's footsteps, as if he had replaced his own daughter with her friend. “i had a plan that was ruined by you.”
if the bitterness in your voice affected him, he didn't let it show on his face — but his grip around your arms softened, and you took that as your cue to get away from his touch. his presence alone was too intoxicating, clouding your senses and messing with your better judgment.
little did you know, but you had the same effect on him.
his closed fists weren't because of his rage, but from his urge to hold you between his arms once more — to feel your skin against his fingertips, to run his fingers in your hair and kiss your forehead, to hold you against his chest and tell you how many nights he was kept awake thinking about you. alhaitham was a coward and he was aware of it, knowing you were residing at the grand bazaar and not setting foot in the place, afraid of seeing you in the arms of another with no thought of yours being about him, like all of his were about you.
“and what were you going to do? run away from all those scholars who were clearly offended by your choice of clothing?” he barked back, watching your eyes roll and your arms crossing on your chest. you were beautiful, wearing what the scholars believed were greater lord rukkhadevata's clothes back when she was alive. the color complimented your skin, and the flowing sleeves and skirts made your movements more graceful than alhaitham remembered them to be.
you scoffed. he was just like all the scholars you grew up to hate, arrogant and too confident in his abilities, and it hurt your heart to reach such a conclusion — that your first love was an akademiya scum. “i will not tell you.” you turned your back to him, starting to walk back to where you were, hoping that alhaitham would leave you alone to return home. but, the heavy sounds of his boots were your clue that he wouldn't leave you to your own company. “just let me return home.” you voice was quiet and full of hurt, small, just like alhaitham remembered it to be when your father would scold you.
and he hated the fact that he was the one making you feel like that.
however, he couldn't say sorry and leave you alone — he finally saw you after years of earning for such a meeting to happen and, even though he'd never admit that, he wanted to spend more time with you and know everything that happened in the years you were apart. he could always rely on the akasha to know such information, but things appearing on his mind would never have the same effect as hearing your voice. “you're defenseless. if your father knows that i didn't protect you, i'm a dead man by tomorrow morning.”
his words took you by surprise. “he made you promise this years ago. i'm sure that now he will be delighted if something happens to me.” you bit the inside of your cheeks to prevent the tears in your lashes from falling down, your head turned to the side so he couldn't see them. talking about your father was still a delicate subject for you — as much as you wanted to hate him for all the wrongs he said for you when you were fifteen, the loving and caring father that he was until that day arrived still plagued your thoughts.
alhaitham shrugged. “i don’t care about him, i care about the promise i made, and i will not go back on my word.” you didn’t notice when you both stopped walking, but the gloved hand on your face, wiping the tears away while obligating you to look directly at his eyes, made your body be plagued by shivers and your cheeks to flush in a bright red color.
he was the same alhaitham of your memories, wasn't he? the caring and kind, sometimes a bit too blunt, boy that you met alongside kaveh when you two were exploring the forest — his eyes were still the same, and even though they were now with different emotions than in the last time you saw them, his words still had the same painful effect they did once. did he still think that of you? that you were useless and a fool, that you had thrown away the brightest of futures to a life that wasn't worth it. your brows furrowed, and you got away from his grasp, missing the way his eyes shone with hurt at your rejection of his affection.
but he would fight for you and he would gain your trust again, and alhaitham didn't care for the time this would take. he just wanted you back where you belonged — between his arms and in his life.
—
he stayed true to his word, even if you didn't know about them. all you knew was that he became a constant presence in all your performances, whenever they would be. he was the first person you saw when you opened your eyes after dancing in the honor of the dendro archon, the first person that congratulated you or the person who led you to safety when you decided to perform in front of scholars.
it was annoying, at the beginning. alhaitham always had a critic to say, either being something about the music or the lighting — or even your partners in the performance, especially if they were men, saying that they didn't let you shine like he knew you could alone — but you knew that was his way of complimenting you. he has always been like that, too logical to know how to say a kind word instead of what you should do to make your performance better in the next time. it was almost endearing how he noticed the small details about your dance, like the way your hands moved or the sound your bracelets made when you clapped your hands.
you both were from different worlds, but different worlds that completed each other in ways you never thought it would. the arts and the runes were almost like oil and water, but you and alhaitham made them mix it perfectly.
he also always made sure he was the one who left you at your room's door, perhaps to know that you were indeed safe, and you made the mistake of asking alhaitham if he wanted to come inside the third time he did that.
it was already late in the night when your performance ended, that time at the the neighborhood with nilou, and you tried to argue with him that you didn't need his protection — everyone in the neighborhood knew who you are, and you knew how to fight and knew how to use your pyro vision to burn those who tried to harass you. and as much as he knew that, being the first victim of your vision, he still wanted you at his side. the question left your lips before you could think of it, the gossip that such an action would bring in the inn and in the grand bazaar long gone in your head. just like he wanted to make sure of your safety, you also wanted to make sure of his, too.
you only had one bed, of course, you room enough only to fit one person living there. and as much as he tried to argue with you to let him sleep on the floor, you almost tied his wrists to your bed frame so he could sleep there, knowing that he wasn’t someone who slept much due to the nature of his job in the akademiya. but it seemed that your warmth was enough to make the akademiya's scribe to give up — you both fell asleep with a pillow between your bodies, but you woke up with his strong arms caging you to his chest and his face nuzzled in your neck.
you didn’t dare to move, of course. you couldn’t know how alhaitham’s reaction to such an outcome would be, and the shallow breaths leaving his nostrils were proof enough that he was indeed awake, probably enjoying the few minutes of peace you and your house were granting him. you just nuzzled back on him, hearing him sighing and a pair of lips ghosting your cheek before his warmth left your bed. you only opened your eyes when you heard him moving around your small home. a few words were shared before he left to do his job, a small sandwich in his hands and the promise of seeing you again — though it took one week before that, in a setting that you wished was just a nightmare.
—
zubayr theater had a performance scheduled in the grand bazaar, something that was proposed by you and nilou to bring attention to the place and help the merchants — every time a performance was announced in the city, all the eyes were directed to where it would be. children and women were always more open to the job you and your peers did, always enchanted by the dance moves and theatrics your troupe had to offer, while men and members of the akademiya always looked down with frowns whenever they attended one. you were still warming nilou to the fact that whenever the akademiya members didn’t like it, it meant you were in the right way.
though, however, you never expected to see your father in the crowd.
alhaitham stood proud at his side, though you could see that he was rather uncomfortable — in the short months you spent in his company again since you ran away, you learned what his lack of expression meant. it was just a mask you knew he developed in the years of studying in the akademiya, meant to deceive his peers into thinking that he was above them all, but you could see just by the way his eyes flicked to your form now and then that he wished he was anywhere but near your father. you didn’t know what prompted him to feel such discomfort, wondering if your father was now something more than just a sage in the akademiya, but you knew that you would never know.
you didn’t want to know.
you just trying to ignore his presence in the crowd, his clothes as a sage almost in discrepancy inside the grand bazaar, focusing on the character you needed to portray — as always, the role of greater lord rukkhadevata belonged to you, while nilou was the goddess of flowers. it was a play about the birth of lesser lord kusanali, something that had always been wrapped in mystery to the common folk, and a great source for writers to romanticize and actors to give life to their plays. you were glad you were able to raise curiosity in the hearts of people about the birth of their god, though many of them were still disappointed with the new dendro archon’s lack of great doings.
the performance ended with a round of applause by those who enjoyed it, and some looks of disapproval by those who did not. your eyes scanned the crowd until they found alhaitham’s, but the familiar soft and warm gaze he gave you whenever you ended a play wasn’t there — instead, you were met with cold and calculating eyes, and you didn’t know if he was behaving like that because of your father’s presence or if he finally was persuaded into seeing that you both were from different worlds and how bad it was.
you tried not to be disappointed, nor make the pain in your heart be known by your colleagues, brushing nilou’s worried words with anxiousness — you gave a quick explanation about your father being in the crowd, and she seemed to buy it being the reason for the sadness in your eyes.
after speaking with a few of your admirers, you excused yourself, feigning a bit of tiredness due to the preparations for the performance, smiling at the sight of the merchant’s tents filled with people — they weren’t many, but it was more than you were used to seeing every day. it was such small actions that made everything worthy of it, from running away from the safety of your family and the future your father chose for you to joining a theater troupe and changing your life in a way you only used to dream about, because you were sure you would never be able to help people if you were in the akademiya.
you sighed, hearing rushed voices near your home. you didn’t want to spy on them, but as you recognized the voices to belong to your father and alhaitham, your curiosity took the best of you, hiding between a tree and some brushes.
“i hope you are pleased with my job, grand sage.”
that piqued your interest, hearing alhaitham calling your father by such a title, though your heart fell to your stomach. as much as you wanted to stay there and listen, something inside you told you to just run away and be ignorant — after all, ignorance was a blessing — because if you stayed, you would be heartbroken.
the voice inside you proved to be right, alongside your father’s words.
“i am, indeed, pleased with your job, scribe alhaitham.” azar’s voice was just exactly how you remember it to be when you were growing up, authoritative and unkind. “it is good to get data about those performancers.” they weren’t so close but not too far, and you feared that if you did any abrupt movement your hiding spot would be found — but your fists clenched anyway, anger boiling in your blood by hearing such words. “especially my daughter. i do not want her to disturb any of the students with her foolish ideals. now, because of your help, we can stop her whenever she tries anything.”
you tried not to let the tears that were pooling in your eyes to fall and give them the joy of making you cry after such knowledge, but the sadness inside you was stronger than any other resolution you had. alhaitham was just using you? all the time you two spent together, laughing and rebuilding your friendship, all the soft glances during late nights when he had accompanied you home, and hands brushing your cheek whenever he put a strand behind your ear while whispering goodnight — everything was just a lie for him? just a way for him to gather information about you and your peers to put on that damned akasha, for azar and the other sages to use against you and the other artists?
and you had fallen for it like a puppy.
you thought your childhood crush was something reciprocated, you really did, opening yourself to him like you did to no other man in your life.
“i just did it to protect you.”
his voice took you from your thoughts, your fists still clenched and your nails now draining blood from your palms. how could he? how could he lie so bluntly to you, feigning concern about you? “don’t try to excuse yourself, scribe.” you turned around to meet his eyes, finding them not like you thought they would be — emotionless and even with a bit of mockery shining on them, but they were hurt.
because alhaitham never saw you looking so hurt and angry, not at himself.
“i do not want to see you ever again.”
you left him in the middle of the street with those words, his eyes following your shaking form until you were inside the safety of your house. alhaitham knew that you wouldn’t take his actions well, but he hoped you would never find out what he was doing — because he was, indeed, protecting you. if you did another performance near the akademiya, or near students that would report back to the sages, you would be exiled to the desert just like an insane scholar, and he wouldn’t be able to do anything to save you from such a horrible fate.
he sighed, starting to walk back in the familiar way to the akademiya, his heart the heaviest since you left him when you were teenagers.
maybe he just needed to give you some time for yourself, while he pondered what he could do to make you forgive him.
—
one month.
one month since you last saw alhaitham, and you wished you could say that his actions made you hate him — but it didn’t.
it took you a few days to be able to dance and act again, though your eyes always scanned the crowd in search of him. he was never there, and as much as you were the one who said you didn’t want to see him again, you were disappointed. if he did have feelings for you, would he really give up on you like that? it was beyond frustrating what you were feeling, because you couldn’t understand him or his actions — he really thought you would be fine with him using you to gather information for the akademiya, even if it was to protect yourself from the archons’ know what?
and now he just gave up. why wasn't he fighting for you?
or maybe you were wrong, again. maybe he didn’t have feelings for you like you thought he did, and he was really just using you and all the little signals were just a play. if that was the truth, he was a better actor than most people you knew — better than yourself. you would never be able to pretend to have feelings for someone if it wasn’t in a play and you weren’t a character.
as much as you tried to not let your feelings interfere with your everyday life, almost everyone in the grand bazaar noticed that something was wrong. nilou was the first one, the first to notice how puffy and red your eyes were from crying the whole night after the incident with your father and him. though you didn't have the courage to tell her what happened — after all, the dreamy eyes she had whenever you and alhaitham were around, perhaps imagining having a lover like him, didn't pass unnoticed by you — she still knew something happened between the two of you, always offering her support when you needed it. the others were mostly like her, though not as close to you to express their worry verbally.
you lived your life the same it was before you met alhaitham after all those years, though it was harder now. before, his rejection to your young love was just a ghost, something that you would never know — now, however, it was a tangible thing, a bitter taste in your mouth whenever you still searched for his presence in your crowds.
you would never learn that oil and water would never mix perfectly, just like you would never learn you and alhaitham would never have meant to be.
that was what kept your shattered heart together, the glue holding all the pieces as thin as the air, and such a fact you came to know when kaveh visited you on a rainy day. you weren't expecting his visit, of course, the day uneventful due to the weather. you were teaching a bunch of little girls some of your favorite dance moves after they came to you when you spotted a tuft of blonde hair adorned with a blue feather and a pair of red eyes that you would always remember as warm.
though kaveh's reappearance didn't shake you up like alhaitham's, his words were far more worrisome.
after a long awaited shared hug between two old friends and some pleasantries coming from both of your mouths, kaveh broke the news, his red eyes shining with a worry you never saw before in them — in fact, you did, on the day you ran away from your father. “i know something happened between you and alhaitham.” he started, his hands on your shoulders holding you at your place.
“kaveh…” you tried, not wanting to hear anything about him. what was kaveh going to say to you? that he was miserable and not himself, because of something he did? it wasn’t fair to you.
he sighed, already in tune with your mannerisms again — you always said you two were platonic soulmates, knowing everything about each other from the top to bottom, being able to communicate with just your eyes. “i’m not here to play his advocate, far from it. i do not know what happened, as he did not tell me, but,” his grip on your shoulders tightened a bit, as if he was trying to prepare you for what was coming. “he was assigned a mission by the sages almost a month ago. a very dangerous one that i was against him going, you see, but the whole situation with you probably made him more prone to accept it. and…”
“...and?” you heart was beating fast inside your rib cage, faster than you ever remembered it beating. a lot of scenarios were playing in your head, and all of them were worse than the other.
“and he was severely injured.” the world around you was spinning, as if the air wasn’t enough to make the blood go to your lungs, making everything dizzy — but you could see the worry on his face. as much as kaveh pretended to hate alhaitham, you knew that deep down he cared about him, and vice-versa. “he is alright now, y/n, he’s being treated in the akademiya’s infirmary now.” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, tears now glossing kaveh’s handsome features.
“why are you telling me this?” such a question was eating you alive. you knew kaveh’s nature wasn’t a cruel one, but what he wanted to achieve with giving you this acknowledgement?
“you’re still so impatient.” he chuckled, though it wasn’t filled with mirth like you remembered it to be. “alhaitham was probably going through some fever illusions and he… he kept calling in your name. in a pained way, saying that he couldn’t die before seeing you again.” you heart skipped a beat at your friend’s confession, even more tears glossing your vision now. alhaitham didn’t have this right, the right to break your heart and transform into dust and then made it whole again.
you felt kaveh’s soft fingers caressing your cheeks, wiping the tears away, the beating of your heart more erratic than ever. “can i see him?” the question left your lips before you could think twice, the idea of him dying hurting more than your broken heart.
kaveh laughed. “i was going to ask you that.”
—
in the way to the akademiya, kaveh told you what happened.
he narrated how he noticed something was off with alhaitham a day when he came back unexpectedly earlier to their house. he was used to finding his roommate with a permanent scowl on his face, but he seemed defeated — his scowl wasn’t the arrogant one that alhaitham always displayed on his face, but something akin to sadness and frustration. kaveh didn’t dare to ask what happened, already knowing what his friend was going to say, so he left the matter behind, deeming it to be problems in his job. during the week, alhaitham closed himself off in the house of daena, as if the books could cure whatever was making him so strange, until he came back home one day, gathering his essential things in a small bag and leaving for a confidential mission for the grand sage.
kaveh only heard about alhaitham again two days ago, when he returned to their home bloodied and weak, and he took him to the infirmary — his wounds were more severely than kaveh thought they were, and while he was in the room to watch the amurta students taking care of him, he heard him muttering your name.
“y/n… i can’t die… her… love… sorry… y/n…” those were the words kaveh told you alhaitham had whispered while he was in agony, probably delirious from either pain or fever. your heart broke even more knowing about this, your feet almost running straight to the infirmary, even though you didn’t know the way there — it wasn’t easy to sneak you in the akademiya, but the raining day meant that a lot of scholars weren’t lurking around, ready to see one of them with a performer from the grand bazaar, and you managed to infiltrate the place where all wisdom was created.
kaveh led you to alhaitham’s room, in a wing full of patients who were labeled as having delicate cases, and you wondered what was the mission alhaitham agreed to go. did he went on it because he wanted, or because he was pressured to go? or he used this opportunity to forget about you, risking his life in the process? you couldn’t bear the idea of being the reason why he accepted such a dangerous mission and risked his life for nothing.
but alhaitham was stubborn, and even if you asked, he would never tell you.
parting ways with kaveh with a hug, you slowly entered the room your childhood friend was being treated in, careful to not make so much noise and awake him — kaveh told you he had been unconscious since he arrived, but you didn’t want to disturb him. what if he hated you now? what if he saw you as the culprit of the state he was in, and now was the one who didn’t want to see you? though his feverish words said otherwise, you were still nervous, like you felt whenever you were about to start a performance.
the room was beautiful, just like everything in the akademiya, with a big window that you thought was supposed to make sunlight fill the room, and some medical instruments around it. but it was plain too, with white and green walls and a bed and some nightstand and a loveseat near the bed, probably for a companion.
you made your way to the bed, your steps as light as a feather falling in the ground, afraid that you could awaken him and disturb his recovery. you just wanted to see him, see if he was well, and then leave — you didn’t know how your reaction would be if you saw him with open eyes, probably too overwhelming to see who just got away from lady death’s grasp.
alhiatham looked peaceful, you noticed as soon as you sat on the bed.
he had no frown adorning his features, and he looked much more healthy than you thought he would — he wasn’t pale and his skin was glowing, even if his face had some small bruises which were decorating his handsome face with a tint of purple. he looked so young, just like the boy you had fallen in love while growing up, and it hurt. it hurt to see him like this and to think what your relationship became just because of the prejudice of your father and the scholars.
you wanted nothing more than to caress his face and kiss his pain away and, before you could think straight, your fingers were already ghosting his cheekbones, going down to his lips and his bruises, feeling his warm skin underneath your fingertips and sighing contently feeling his breath tickling your skin. it was good to know that he was alive and well, and after making sure of that, you retracted your hand back to rest in your lap and knew you were ready to go back to the grand bazaar — would he come after you after his recovery? would he tell you what he was whispering in his agony?
though, before you could leave his bed and the room, alhaitham’s hand grabbed yours, making a surprised gasp to leave your lips.
“don’t go…” his voice was rough and raw, strange on his body after two days of not using it. “i do not know if this is a fever dream or not,” he opened his eyes, blinking it to make sure you weren’t a hallucination. “but don’t leave me again, y/n.”
you smiled, a few tears going down on your cheeks. “i promise, alhaitham.” the hand that wasn’t intertwined with his cupped his cheek, and you leaned down to press a chaste kiss to his forehead. “go back to sleep, alright? i will be here when you wake up again.”
he nodded, like a small child, closing his eyes again.
—
alhaitham knew people from sumeru couldn’t dream, but why did your lips on his forehead felt so real?
he groaned, the pain on his chest more than just a physical pain. it hurt to know that his brain and heart craved your presence so much that he dreamed about you — was the dendro archon giving him a bit of solace before he came to face the consequences of his actions? he knew he wasn’t supposed to fight a machine monster all by himself, even though he was strong enough to do so, but such a mechanical being wasn’t like the ones he faced before, and he needed to get that capsule of divine knowledge back.
alhaitham thought that perhaps he could redeem himself in your eyes, if he managed to help sumeru and its people somehow.
he got the capsule back, but almost lost himself to it. he didn’t understand how he managed to arrive at his house before collapsing in pain and loss of blood, the journey home being filled with fever dreams of you and what could’ve happened between you both if he was more open about his feelings, if he wasn’t a coward and had fought for you.
but now the past was in the past, and alhaitham couldn’t do anything to change. he could only bask in what his imagination could give him — the softness of your fingers on his face, the sweetest kiss of your lips and its warmth on his skin, the honey laced promise you made him. it would hurt more than any of his bruises the fact that he would wake up alone in such a cold room, with you being so far away from him.
though the sound of footsteps gave him the idea he wasn’t alone. “close the curtains, kaveh, for the archon’s sake.” he muttered, turning around to not be graced with the sun rays on his face.
the sound of a feminine giggle made him furrow his eyebrows, a sound so sweet that he was sure he was still in a fever dream — the last time he heard your giggles was a day before you discovered what he was doing, laughing at his complaints about kaveh. your smile and your laugh were his fuel to keep fighting that mechanical being, the idea of seeing you happy again enough for him to keep going.
“if you want me to call kaveh, just say it.” you voice was laced with mirth, and a bit of concern, totally different from the cold and filled with rage tone you used the last time alhaitham saw you. it was almost comforting the way you seemed more at ease at his presence, though he knew he owed you an apology.
he scoffed. “never.” he turned around once again, opening his eyes to find you sitting on the love seat near his bed. “hi.” he whispered while he watched you walking towards him, all the words dying on his throat at the sight of you.
it was funny how he always had a witty remark to anything said to him, but never to you. your presence made his brain foggy and disoriented, all his thoughts revolving around you. he was just a useless star that couldn’t help but be attracted and circle around you, the sun, that gave warmth to everyone else.
“hi.” you whispered back, your hands fumbling in your lap, as if you didn’t know what to do with them. “how are you feeling?” your voice had a tenderness that alhaitham knew he didn’t deserve coming from you. he’d never deserve your love or your kindness, something so pure and beautiful, even though you might think otherwise.
he tried to chuckle, trying to ease the worry in your brow. “i’ve seen better days.” as much as he wanted to ask why and how you were there, alhaitham wasn’t brave enough to break the blissful bubble you both were in. he was afraid that his words would turn a switch inside you, that you would graze your eyes upon him with the same rage it was filled in the last time he saw you, that your fists would shake and your lip tremble with unshed tears — the love struck and kind look your eyes had was so much better than the fresh of you in his mind.
“i can imagine.” tentatively, you cupped his bruised cheek, fingers gently caressing his skin. he leaned into your touch, a relieved sigh leaving his lips at your display of affection — he was undeserving yes, but alhaitham was selfish and arrogant, and he would never back away from it. yet, the shadow of what happened and the questions from both of your hearts hovered above your forms. “i…” you seemed braver than him, trying to get the acknowledged that would soothe or break your heart even more, but alhaitham couldn’t let you be the one to start — he cut you by trying to get up, indulging your smaller hand on his, the bandages preventing your skin to touch, much to his chagrin.
“let me speak first, y/n. i was the one at fault in the first place.” he watched as you nodded, body coming closer to him, your smell clouding his senses and the only thought in his head was kissing your lips until they were red and raw, seeing you beneath him with red cheeks and disheveled hair. “i know you do not believe me, but i was protecting you when giving information about your troupe to your father.” at the mention of the grand sage, your face became sour — though now more hurt than angered, and alhaitham knew such a change of feeling was good. “you were going to be exiled to the desert, my love.” the term of endearment didn’t go unnoticed by you, your cheeks becoming hot at the possessive form before it.
you were his.
“i was desperate. i had only found you after being an incognito in my life for almost ten years.” his grip on your hand tightened, and alhaitham sighed. “i’m not asking you to forgive me so easily, but do not look at me with that rage again.” he pleaded, bringing your hand to his mouth and kissing your knuckles, his warm lips caressing your skin as if he was worshiping a goddess. “my heart is yours to do whatever you want, and i will endure it, but don’t deny me seeing the love in your eyes be corrupted by such a horrible feeling.”
alhaitham closed his eyes, taking your hand to rest over his chest, ready for your rejection.
“why did you accept this mission?” your voice was quiet, and your words totally different from what his mind told him what they were going to be. “i thought… i thought you had only used me, alhaitham.” your reveal wasn’t a total surprise for him, because he knew his actions were misleading.
“i guess i just wanted to forget what i made you feel.” he admitted, arms coming to wrap around you and bring your body to rest on his chest. it hurt, because his wounds were still fresh, but that was where you belonged. you fitted perfectly between his arms, your face hid in the warmth of his neck and his head resting above yours, your bodies almost melting into each other and becoming one.
his arms tightened around your form when he felt your body shake and his neck wet by your tears. he didn’t try to pry, though his heart ached with your quiet sobs, but he knew you would talk when you were ready — the only thing he could offer now was physical comfort, and even though alhaitham thought he was the worst person to give any kind of comfort, but it was you. you always made his best traits to shine, and the worst ones to become less bad.
after some time, your sobs quieted down and your body stopped to shake, and your voice filled his ears. “you really hurt me, alhaitham.” you were using a scolding tone, as if he had done something bad but something redeemable. “i’ve been in love with you since we were children, and you doing that…”
“you were in love with me since we were children?” his shocked voice made you giggle, your body adjusting so you were straddling him, hands cupping his cheeks and noses touching. alhaitham’s cheek were tinted with red, a sight that you never saw before but something so mesmerizing that you wanted it belonged to eternity — his eyes were lidded, pupils wide with a mix of love and lust, his hand gripping your hips to bring you even closer to you.
another giggle left your lips when he kissed a spot near your lips. “for being the akademiya’s scribe, you’re a bit stupid, my beloved.” you managed to say before his lips were attacking yours, in a kiss that — even though it was delayed for ten years — was the testimony of his endless love for you.
#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham fluff#alhaitham angst#alhaitham#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin angst#genshin fluff
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Always, For You.
SUMMARY: For ages, you have taken care of the Crown Prince, helped him escape his worries and the stresses of soon bearing the throne. Tonight, he wants to take care of you.
PAIRING: prince!seonghwa x fem!reader
GENRE: smut, lil bit of fluff
AU/TROPE: royal au, secret lovers/forbidden love
WORD COUNT: 2.5k
RATING: 18+
TAGS/WARNINGS: pet names (my love, darling, my prince), idiots in love, it's really emotional (but in a good way), not beta'd, probably questionable editing
A/N: for @hwaightme || bai, my love, my soulmate, the seong to my joong and one of the kindest people i have ever had the pleasure of knowing; happiest of birthdays to you. thank you for the joy you bring into the lives of others. thank you for being the sweet soul you are. and thank you, eternally, for indulging and encouraging my chaos and bullshit at every possible turn and for going very rapidly from "admired favorite author" to "chaos mutual" to "dear friend". this blog would not be what it is without you, and i cannot thank you enough. much love, and happy birthday <3
smut tags under the cut ; divs from @cafekitsune
masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee?
SMUT TAGS/WARNINGS: momentary dom/sub tones, they're both switches, oral (fem recieving), seonghwa's tongue, pet names (good boy, my prince), no protection (don't do it)
The chill of the approaching winter permeated the air around you, piercing through the thin material of your night dress. Your cheeks surely had a rosy, wind-kissed tint to them, and you could feel the skin of your lower lip chapping as you gnawed at it. The minutes were dragging on like hours as you waited, ever patient, for your lover to emerge from the darkness of the palace gardens. He was not infrequently late; being the prince, he had many responsibilities to take care of before seeing you—but rarely had the sky been dark for so long before his arrival. A shiver coursed through you and you brought your numbing fingers to your lips, breathing warmth back into them.
Your time together was precious and so very limited. You would wait. He had never betrayed your trust before, and he would not do so tonight.
After what may have been hours, quick, light footsteps approached your perch on the same bench you perched on every week, unmistakable as anyone other than the man you awaited. He looked flustered already when he turned the corner, cheeks flushed pink from the brisk night, and he sighed in relief when his gaze fell upon you. You smiled, less warmth and more mischief behind yours, as your mind ran wild at the sight of him.
He was in front of you in two long strides, bowing to press his lips to your knuckles as you rose to your feet. His cloak wound its way around your shoulders, an apology in his sweet brown eyes as he took you in.
“Y/N,” he sighed, breathless, “you waited.”
“Seonghwa,” you smiled, reaching up with your free hand to close the cloak around your shoulders, “you came.”
It was a silly ritual, really, one you would deny if another ever discovered it. You had long since stopped scolding the prince for his whispered apologies at his frequent tardiness, settling instead on a compromise. His greeting, an apology, and yours, a soft abatement of his nerves. You would wait until the end of time for your prince charming.
“You’re near-frozen,” he hummed, clasping your hand between both of his to warm it.
“I’m alright,” you replied, smiling warmly as those wide eyes begged once more for the forgiveness you readily offered. “You made it, my love, that is what matters.”
He beamed, the stars dancing in his eyes as he straightened up. “I have somewhere warm for us tonight, if you would allow me the honor of your company.”
Ever the gentleman, Seonghwa released your hand, offering instead his arm. “The honor would be all mine, Your Highness.” You looped your arm through his, giggling to yourself as his ears turned pink.
You would go anywhere he desired of you.
The one-room cottage you found yourself in was quaint and cozy, a small fire already burning in the hearth when your lover opened the door for you. Grinning once more, you curtsied before you stepped over the threshold, sighing as the warmth in the cottage sank into your bones. Something undefinable tugged at your heart as your eyes roamed the space, noting the small bed pushed into a corner, the lingering scent of dust in the air and—as the centerpiece of Seonghwa’s evening work—-a cozy-looking nest of pillows, cushions and blankets nestled squarely in front of the fire. Huffing out a happy, breathless laugh, you turned back to find him observing you, a coy smile on his face.
“How did you manage this?”
“I nearly didn’t,” he admitted, stepping properly into the space and admiring his handiwork. “Autumn has been shorter than I anticipated. It was my intention to have this place for us before the first freeze, but I’m afraid I didn’t quite reach that goal.”
His eyes had drifted to the floor as he turned back to you. Quietly, you closed the space, cupping his jaw to guide his eyes back to your own. “It’s perfect, Hwa. Thank you.”
The smile that spread across his face warmed you more than the crackling fire. “Anything for you, dearest.”
His eyes darted to your lips as he spoke, and you smiled, once again rolling the bottom one between your teeth. You could feel the way his pulse ticked up under your fingers, and warmth spread through your body. It was a beautiful thing, to be so wanted.
“Anything?” you breathed, barely audible. Still, he nodded. “Then make love to me, my prince.”
He needed no more direction, sealing his lips over your own and pulling you flush against him. A pleased hum passed between your lips at his blatant need, his grip on your waist firm. You sighed into the kiss, arms draping over his shoulders and fingers carding into his hair. With one soft tug, he was melting in your arms, a breathy groan leaving him as you guided him away from you and gestured to the nest he had made.
“Take your boots off and kneel, darling,” you directed, a warm smile still etched onto your features.
Seonghwa was enamored with you, his doe eyes shining as he nodded eagerly and rushed to follow your instructions. Your heart fluttered once again as you watched him obey, slipping your own shoes off and slowly making your way to the fireplace to carefully hang his cloak next to it. When you turned back to him, he was watching you with a steady, half-lidded gaze, hands obediently splayed on his thighs.
You beamed, stepping into the ring of coziness and kneeling in front of him, catching his chin to pull him in for another brief kiss. “There’s my good boy.”
You both heard and felt his breath catch, as he preened at the praise, leaning into your touch. “Always for you, all for you,” he hummed, eyes flickering over your face.
You observed him carefully for a moment, eyes narrowing as his gaze remained sharp, reading you as you were reading him. Many nights, all it took was a single direction and a bit of praise and you had the prince eating out of the palm of your hand. Tonight, though, you could see something different in his gaze—something curious and questioning.
“You’re thinking again,” you murmured, fingers tracing back up his jaw to card into his hair. “This is meant to stop that.”
“It’s not bad, this time,” he hummed, hands leaving his thighs to ghost up your sides. You barely held back a pleasant shiver, raising an eyebrow at both his statement and his bold move. “Let me take care of you tonight,” he muttered, gaze meeting yours once more, “Let me do for you what you do for me.” He shifted from his position, kneeling up to loom over you, and you felt your stomach flip. “Let me worship every inch of your body and treat you tonight like the queen I will one day make you.”
All of your usual bravado was gone, the persona you had so carefully built for your encounters with Seonghwa ripped to shreds with a few pretty words. You heaved a shaky, breathless sigh and nodded. “Yes.”
His lips met yours once more the instant the word left your mouth, hands wrapping firmly around your torso. You pressed yourself against him until every possible inch of your body was flush with his own, grip firm in his hair and on his shoulder. Slowly, gently, he shifted, laying you back into the bed he had made for you as though you would shatter. His hands roamed over you, his touch feather-light as he explored your body. For the first time in your memory with Seonghwa, you were the first to break the kiss. You parted from him with a gasp and a heady whine, grip tightening against his scalp as he took the opportunity to trail kisses down your neck. As his lips worked lower, his hands slipped higher, sneaking under the thin cotton of your night dress to slide up your thighs. You sighed, pleased, and felt him moan against your collar bone as he found your ass bare. His eyes flickered up to your own, pleading with you, and you grinned. Perhaps tonight would not be so different, after all.
You had a special, particular relationship with the Crown Prince. Never in your memory had he taken control of you in any aspect; you were always the one to take care of him. His daily duties weighed upon him heavily; any courtesan or servant with a working set of eyes and a brain could see that. One passing comment about helping His Highness get out of his head and he had begun sending you missives, calling for you to meet him in the gardens after sundown. You could remember the first night you spent with him as though it were yesterday, little more than a conversation and a chaste kiss shared between the two of you. Oh, how beautifully had he blossomed.
Now, there was no rosy coloring to the tips of his ears as he lifted you from the makeshift mattress and tugged your night dress over your head, dropping it carelessly to the side. Now, the eyes that once looked at you with trepidation and abashment burned into you hungrily as his lips reattached to your skin at the earliest opportunity. You whined in protest as you were left bare to him, an unfamiliar sound that had him halting in his tracks for only a moment before his mind registered your shaking hands, tugging frantically at the buttons on his uniform coat. He chuckled quietly, sitting back on his heels to do the work for you.
“I never thought you would let me have you like this,” he admitted, a sheepish smile gracing his delicate features. “Thank you.”
His pause was long enough for you to take a deep breath and gather yourself just enough to smirk at him, the hand still on him tracing lower to press against his arousal. “I know you’ll make it worth my while, won’t you, my prince?”
Your words seemed to douse the flames behind his eyes in kerosene, his jaw tensing as he stripped his upper half with more urgency. “I will make tonight worth every minute you have ever waited for me.”
Within seconds, his coat had been stripped away and his undershirt quickly followed, each finding their way to the floor. He dropped just as rapidly to settle his face between your thighs, pupils lust-blown as he glanced up at you. For the first time since you had begun this relationship, he asked for no permission before pressing his tongue against your core and lapping a fat stripe up it. The moan that ripped from your throat at the combined sensation and unfamiliar position had him humming happily against you, eyes slipping shut in bliss as he began to work you over. Seonghwa could die happily between your thighs, he thought. There was something intoxicating about your scent, your taste, and each time he found himself in this position, it took every bit of his willpower not to stay there the whole night.
Tonight, though, he could do just that.
His moans buzzed through you pleasantly and your hands once again anchored themselves in his hair, grounding you against the onslaught of pleasure as that devilishly talented tongue of his fucked into you. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his lips and chin as he lapped and sucked at your clit, interspersing the intense waves of pleasure with the kinder, gentler sensation of dipping into your entrance. You sighed and squirmed under his attention, fingers tugging gently at his scalp in encouragement. He was practically purring as he drank you in eagerly, lust-drunk gaze locked onto your expression while your legs closed tighter around his head. Within mere minutes, you were falling over the peak of your orgasm, grip vice-like in Seonghwa’s hair as you held him still—though, if his moans were any indication, he wouldn’t move if he could.
That sinful, skilled tongue laved at you until you were a whimpering mess, palm pressing against his forehead to nudge him away as overstimulation began to take hold. He gasped for breath as he relented, turning his head to press a soft kiss to the inside of each of your thighs. Your chest heaved as your eyes blinked open, a fresh wave of arousal making you shudder at the dark, hungry gaze fixed on you.
“I could die happily between your legs,” he muttered, voice hoarse and laden with arousal.
“Seonghwa,” you sighed, reaching forward to drag him into a messy kiss. The taste of your arousal lingered on his tongue, now sliding between your lips the same way it had parted your folds. Gripping his hair tighter, you reluctantly dragged him back, taking a shaky breath to steady yourself. “I need you.”
Your plea came out breathless, saturated in need and, when paired with your nails dragging over the front of his pants, it was impossible for your lover to misunderstand it. It was his turn to breathe a shaky exhale, gentle hands pressing you back into the now disheveled nest until he could rise to his knees. You watched him carefully, an appreciative half-smile stuck on your face as he rid himself of the rest of his clothes. He was beautiful in every situation, in every light, but tonight, with the dancing firelight bathing him in gold and casting twisting patterns over his skin, he was a work of art that should be immortalized in a gallery.
The warmth of the fire when combined with his body heat was overwhelming in the best way, just the right side of suffocating to push all other thoughts from your mind. He captured your lips firmly as he once more caged you in, filling you perfectly as your hips met. Pleased sounds left your lips in unison when he began to move; strong, slow rolls of his hips that had you arching up into him. Little time passed before your kiss dissolved into nothing more than panting against each other’s mouths, and you fell back to the ground, content to lock your eyes instead of your lips. His intensity had you short of breath; this ethereal man, the Crown Prince, was looking down at you as though you had hung the stars in the sky.
With a tight, high whine, your second high of the night crashed into you, fingers tightening in his hair again. Your shared gaze did not break as he quickly followed you over his own peak, his mouth dropping open and brows creasing in pleasure.
When you both came back down to earth, neither of you let the other go, bodies tired and satiated, the warmth of the fire lulling you both into a sleepy state. Your time together would be cut short soon, you knew, but you let yourself bask in peace for now.
His whisper cut through the quiet like thunder, “One day, I will have you. My promises are not empty. I will move mountains to have you by my side. I will do anything, my love.”
You could hear the tension in his voice, the tears gathering at his water line. Shifting up, you pressed your lips to his to silence him. “Will you stay, then?”
He smiled, the dying flames beside you dancing in his eyes. “Always, for you.”
In the aftermath, wrapped soundly in his arms, you let yourself believe.
TAGLISTS: [open, apply here]
permanent: @justhere4kpop @thatonenoona @tastymintchocolate @bahng-chrizz @elllisaaa
ateez: @pyeonghongrie-main @tattywood
special: @pocketsky
strikethrough : unable to tag
© November 2023 nebulousbrainsoup | all rights reserved. reposting and translating of author’s work is prohibited.
#cromernet#kvanity#wonderlandnet#happy birthday bai <3#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa x y/n#seonghwa x you#ateez x reader#park seonghwa x reader#park seonghwa x y/n#park seonghwa x you#park seonghwa#seonghwa#ateez seonghwa#ateez#ateez fanfic#seonghwa smut#park seonghwa smut#ateez smut#atz smut#atz#atz seonghwa#neb.atz#nebulous writes#neb.moot <3#bai <3#neb.afy
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Honored One Shot no.14 - @satosuguswife
„Pictures”
Hurt and comfort
Warnings: fake blood, mentioned nsfw
When you entered the house, you saw Satoru lying on the floor with the left part of his forehead red. His cheek, the corners of his mouth, his throat. Everything was painted red.
His shirt was also soiled, and his uniform jacket was unbuttoned. Clothes a bit tattered. A pool of blood around.
And next to the wall sat Suguru whose face was tilted down.
His typical loose clothes were also soiled. One sleeve of his white traditional dress lay on the floor as his left hand held his shoulder. Hair in disarray.
You felt the cold flow through your body...
As you drop your bag on the floor, you heard faint sounds.
And suddenly you saw and heard Satoru laughing out loud and wallowing in 'blood'. Suguru also joined him and his arm appeared, showing that he doesn't have a severed arm at all.
They both laughed and suddenly looked at you.
And then their laughter died down. Because they saw big tears running down your face as you looked at them.
Their expressions stopped and you suddenly kicked your bag at Satoru, watching him catch it.
"(y/n)...!" Suguru called after you, reaching out to you with his hand but he didn't manage to stop you.
Wiping away your tears, you ran to your room slamming the door.
These are supposed to be grown men?! They may be almost 20 years old, but that doesn't change the fact that they are idiots!
You lay down on the bed and cried.
How could they do this to you? It was not funny! You thought something had happened to them! You thought someone had attacked them! And here it turns out that it was just their stupid joke?!
You'd take it more as a joke if you caught them fucking on the kitchen table! Or if they did something else! But that's not cool!
What they did is not cool at all...
You've been afraid of losing them so many times. Especially Suguru who had an existential crisis for a while. But now everything was fine, so why did they want to fool you and show that they are dead.
"Baby, can we come in?!"
You heard Satoru's voice outside the door.
"...Fuck off!" You groaned as you turned your head away from the pillow you were lying on.
"Baby..."
"Get away from me! You're so stupid!"
"(y/n), we can talk?"
Suguru opened the door slightly, peeking inside to see you lying on your stomach on the bed and crying into your pillow.
"What do you want think?! You think it was funny?! You're probably fucked up and crazy! Fucking idiots!"
"It was supposed to be a joke... A little revenge for scaring us earlier..." Whitehaired one muttered.
"This is not funny!" You screamed as you watched your boys wipe their faces off of the fake blood. "I never meant to scare you!"
"And that blood on your clothes in the washing machine?"
"I got my period, you idiot! We've been together since second year at school and you still can't remember when i get my period!"
"Baby..."
Suguru's hand was placed on your back and he picked you up, placing you on his lap.
You hugged him crying.
Satoru sat next to you, put his head on Suguru's shoulder and pulled you up to hold on to him as well.
"We didn't know you'd react like that... Sorry..." he muttered, rubbing your thigh.
How could you have reacted differently? They pretended they died! You used to be afraid of them all the time because they are sorcerers...
And now they're doing this to you...
You were afraid that you would lose one of them... And when you were afraid that they might leave, it turns out that they made a joke of it?
"You look prettier when you smile than when you cry. Like when you blush."
You looked up at Satoru's blue eyes as he stared at you intently but just as calmly.
"When you look at us with love and not something like that. We didn't want to do this to you. Sorry. It won't happen again."
He leaned in to kiss your cheek. You let him, feeling his soft lips against yours.
You gave him your lips, allowing him to kiss you. So he pressed his lips against yours.
"So Suguru wouldn't be jealous..." he murmured with a smile and reached over to his boyfriend's face, pulling him in for a kiss.
And then you kissed the dark haired boy softly.
"Show you something?" He took his phone out of his pocket and opened the flap.
And then he showed that you were his wallpaper.
You're used to him wanting a model in a swimsuit or something in the beginning.
And now he has you and Suguru as he stands shirtless next to you. His shirt is on your body. naked thighs. Why? Because Satoru took this picture naked in bed.
"This photo is beautiful. But I'd like to see your smiling face with hearts in your eyes. When your mouth is open when you moan."
You changed suddenly and he clenched his hands on Suguru's clothes.
"Satoru, do you think it's a good idea to talk about it now?"
"I'll have a picture of her fucked up face next to yours. And you'll have a picture of her fucked up face and mine. Matching wallpapers!"
"And she?"
"She will have a picture of my face when you fuck me and your face will be next to mine!"
"I don't know if that's a good idea now."
"Honey, can I make you feel better?" He purred in your ear, licking your neck.
You can't be angry with them for long. Because they hold your heart.
"Do it..." you murmured as you snuggled into Suguru's chest and felt their fingers begin to touch you.
It's supposed to be humorous? Yes.
Because he's looking for the perfect shot for photos. His photos are crazy. Remember how he used to sneak pictures of you at school when you were in your room or in the shower so you could go back to his room and do things everyone knows...
That's why he likes taking pictures like this.
And if they want you to forgive them, let them. Maybe thanks to this you will forget that the whole floor in the house is smeared with fake blood...
Just as it was supposed to be. For Suguru, a picture of you lying under Satoru with a red face and small tears. Your face contorted in pleasure. And next to your face is the face of Satoru whose cheeks are red and his eyes are rolling backwards.
For Satoru, your same face when you lie with your back on Suguru's chest. And next to the dark-haired man's smile.
For you (even though you didn't want this wallpaper on your phone), a picture of their faces as Suguru dominated Satoru. Satoru blushing with little tears in his eyes?
At least you'd prefer these photos to photos of them in fake blood.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#gojo x y/n#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo#jjk x you#getou suguru#geto x reader#satosugu#suguru#geto x reader x gojo#geto x you#geto x y/n#geto x gojo#satosugu x reader#honored ones event
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HAPPY (derogatory) NOV 5TH!
Happy 3 years of suffering together friends!! I've put together some of my fave post-finale(ish) fics in honor of the day, so we may all suffer some more together.
i want to do with you (what spring does with cherry trees) by @sobsicles
74.1k - grief/mourning, (temporary) character death
a bit of retconning of the last few seasons of spn - what if dean realized sooner during the widower arc how he felt about cas? how would it all play out? sobsicles always throws me for a loop but this one in particular always gets me sobbing (heh)
All I Want for Christmas by Shadows_Keeper
12.6k - grief/mourning, (temporary) character death, paramedic!dean
ft. dean getting to live his damn life after cas goes to the empty and sam/eileen have a family 🥺
now the weight of the world ain't so bad by the_oncoming_stormageddon
9.8k - fluff, getting together but dean is dumb about it
in which cas and dean are together except dean doesn't realize it yet
Proverbs 13:12 by starlingcas (@angelcasendgame)
16.3k - literally stuck in a tree, s14 coda, (temporary) character death, they're best friends ur honor
that's it, they're literally stuck in a tree and are huge adorably in-love dorks about it 🥺 takes place during s14 but then picks up after the finale which thank goodness
Kingdom Come by ahurston
17.3k - road trip reunion
cas comes back 🥺 he and dean drive home and talk (and other things)
and you can use my skin by unicornpoe
5.3k - touch-starved dean, it's so unbearably soft i love it
cas comes home and dean can't stop touching him (and i can't stop screaming/crying)
on the sixth day by fleeceframe
5.2k - grief/mourning, heavy drinking
“You prayed my name to every angel in Heaven for six days straight.”
take the bones, begin anew by JustStandingHere (@sightofsea)
103k - idiots in love, building a home with your buddy~, stoner!cas
in which dean is a huge dummy in love and is working through so so much repression, but he and cas build a home together 🥺
things happen (they do, they do, and they do) by @sobsicles
27.9k - repressed!dean, human!cas, cas stands for casanova
another sobsicles bc i'm always wrecked! by! their! fics!!!!! cas comes back and dean is totally normal about it - because it's normal to mourn how straight you are so bc if only you weren't straight so you could make your best friend happy 🙃
ascend by quiettewandering (@wanderingcas)
53.3k - grief/mourning, angst with a happy ending, seriously be prepared for the angst
chuck's story can't be changed - or can it? the fantastical ending to a beautiful love story that we deserved!! i cannot tell you enough how much i love this fic, so many chills throughout and that ending haunts me in a good way
hope you enjoy these fics (or enjoy re-reading them!). also if you want to get a destiel is canon pin to celebrate the day and take them off my hands, pls do
#destiel#dean x castiel#spn for ts#happy nov 5th#time for our annual celebration/mourning of this goddamn stupid show and these goddamn beautiful characters#they deserved better!!! i will literally never stop thinking about that for the rest of my life i will never not be angry about it!!!!!#anyways uh#destiel fic#fic recs#steph recs#throwing in my pin sale bc i have too many still in stock and i dropped the price by nearly $4 so pls take them off my hands
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left behind
Pairing: Gurney Halleck x Reader
Rating: T
Notes: Still simping for Gurney Halleck. Shocker. Set during Dune Part II.
No physical descriptions, no use of y/n. Not beta-read, so probably riddled with typos that I won’t find until I hit ‘post’.
Warnings: Angst; fluff; yearning; pining; they're in love, they're just idiots.
Summary: You’ve spent months fighting to honor all of your ghosts, but there’s no one whose memory you've tended to more than Gurney’s. On the evenings when your nightmares played keepaway with your peace, you reached for his memories first and held them the tightest.
He’s a far cry from the man that you once knew. You don’t recognize him for a moment—but as he grows closer, and the flash of his smile becomes apparent, your insides curdle and twist as if you've sipped the Water of Life.
And when Paul points you out—when his mouth forms your name, his gloved finger jabbed in your direction—you see the man's expression fall and muddle. You’re not sure what with: shock, disgust, confusion?
But before you can decipher it—before the man can take another step toward you or away from you, Chani is taking hold of your shoulder and guiding you away from the wreckage of the destroyed spice freighter. You don’t fuss or fight, or insist that you have someone to see, something to say. You still hardly believe your eyes. You don’t trust that what you've seen isn’t an effect of the spice, or a hallucination—one of those jinn that Stilgar warns you about when you go for walks alone at night.
It wouldn’t be the first time that your tired eyes have carved the likeness of the man you once loved out of dust and heat.
--
“If I’d known,” He tries, “I could’ve gotten you off of the planet. I would’ve—”
“I wouldn’t have left.”
“You still can, and should. You’d be safer on Caladan.”
“My place is with Paul.”
His grip is a vice as he grabs your wrist and roughly tugs you to face him. Your feet stutter and stall in the sand, annoyance rising in your belly. It’s only stoked by the righteous fury waiting for you in his eyes. He seems unaware or uncaring of the testy audience that his antic draws, the slowed steps of the Fremen around you; their shushes and tuts; their low, murmured chittering warnings in Chakobsa, filling the canyon with whispered threats.
“And mine is not?” He hisses. You study his face for a few testy, silent moments before you finally wrestle from his grip.
“I couldn’t say where your place is, Gurney Halleck.”
--
Sleep is uneasy. The stillness and silence of the dessert makes you fidget and squirm in your tent. You can only keep your eyes closed for a moment or two before they open again. You map the ceiling of the tent, mark its occasional fluttering in the odd breeze. You try not to think of the little centipedes, or the trapdoor spiders.
You fight not to think of the man just feet from you.
You’ve spent months fighting to honor all of your ghosts, but there’s no one whose memory you've tended to more than Gurney’s. On the evenings when your nightmares played keepaway with your peace, you reached for his memories first and held them the tightest.
You’ve struggled to keep every little bit etched into your mind: his voice, his smile, his laugh, the murmur of his balliset. You’ve remembered the slip of his hand over your arm, your back, your side as he corrected a movement in training. You've remembered the call of his voice over the battlefield, roaring over your pounding heart as you ran into hell together. You’ve fought to hold the last look of him in Arrakeen—the blend of passion and sorrow in his eyes as he charged the Harkonnens.
But you’d lost sight of him in the skirmish, and found your way to Paul. You’d been certain that so few of your fellow soldiers had survived, positive that any who had would have fallen into Harkonnen clutches.
Some nightmares draw up images of Gurney in their chains once more, fighting against his bondage without Leto there to free him again. Others have him limping from the shadows, bleeding, imploring and begging you to tell him where you had gone when he needed you most.
Is he awake over there? Or has he learned to doze peacefully, to drift off to the shush of spice over the sands of Arrakis? Does he dream of Caladan, of her deep oceans and grey skies?
Does he think of you? Of your nights together in the barracks? Of sharing a drink?
You push yourself to sit up now, drawing a deep breath in through your nose as you fight to slow your pounding heart, to unpick the knot forming in your belly.
--
You try to hide from him in the company of others. Your place with the Fremen is far less precarious than it used to be, and they happily draw you into their conversations, keep pace with you as you walk. Whenever Gurney gets too close, they cast him a wary look and bunch in closer to you. It warms you as much as it makes you uneasy.
You’ve no reason to be protected from Gurney. He would never harm you, despite what his grabbing your wrist may have made them think. But you’re not rushing to correct them, either. And when you’re certain that you feel him watching you, you force yourself to refocus on the company of your friends.
The worn, high walls of Sietch Tabr are an unexpected respite. Perhaps it’s the knowledge that you’ll be able to slip into the crowd and elude the former Warmaster for just a little while longer. Hands pat you on the shoulder as you pass, murmurs of greeting washing over you as you venture deeper underground.
You want as much rest and quiet that this brief break will afford you. You’re certain that Gurney will keep close now that he and Paul have been reunited, and you can’t blame him—in his shoes, you would do the same. You have no intention of letting yourself be kept away from Paul, or away from the action, so you’ll have to brace.
--
“Did he hurt you?”
If the question had come from anyone else, you may deflect—turn away, start toward the next windtrap. But Chani’s question isn’t abrasive, despite its bluntness. You keep your eyes set resolutely on the filter that you’re removing, twisting it from its position and lowering it to your rucksack with the others that you’ve collected.
“A long time ago,” You finally admit.
“Does he know?”
“No.”
Chani’s silence is as heavy as her gaze. You just shrug, chasing her quiet curiosity: “It isn’t that easy.”
“Why not?”
“He wouldn’t understand.” Or care.
You hold your hand out for a fresh filter, and fit it once she’s passed it over.
“He’s a good man,” You add. “Smart, and strong.”
“The others think he’s a spy.”
“They thought the same of me.”
“...That’s true.”
“And the same of Paul.”
Chani falls quiet at the reminder, and the mention of Paul’s name. The two of you collect the remainder of the full filters, each stewing in your thoughts. You finally speak again as you make your way back to the sietch.
“Will you tell the others to lighten up on Gurney?” You cast her a sidelong glance just in time to see her lips purse contemplatively.
“They won’t take to him easily,” She argues.
“They should try.”
“You should lead by example.”
It’s your turn to purse your lips. You know that she’s right, and it irritates you. But you nod grudgingly. It shouldn’t be too hard to crack your own shell. For all of your pain and heartache, you have missed him. Your mind has been racing with memories since you first saw him again.
When you return to the sietch, he isn’t hard to find. Stilgar points you in his direction, and warns you not to waste your time or water on such an unclever man. The words, accompanied with a wink and a light pat on the shoulder, offer a much-needed lightness as you wind through the cool, quiet halls.
You don’t bother to try and sneak up on Gurney—there’s no point. He always was a vigilant tactician, as wise in the ways of his soldiers as of his enemies. His head tips toward you a touch as your footsteps grow nearer, but he doesn’t take his attention away from the mural on the wall.
“How do they get off?” He asks. The question makes you balk, briefly stalling your brain before you manage—”What?”
“Of the worm.” He gestures toward the wall, at the illustration of a small figure riding a sandworm. Ah.
“They slide off,”You tell him, “Or run the worm until it tires and slows.”
He grunts, nodding slowly. “You’ve learned a lot these last few months.”
“I’ve had to,” You admit, then amend: “We all have.”
Gurney nods again. “You seek me out for a reason, or were you just going for a walk?”
You’re tempted to lie. Gurney is no truthsayer and you were adept at concealing your true feelings from him once.
“I wanted to apologize.”
“For what.”
By the way that he says it, you know that he’s leaning digging the knife in, just a little. You can’t blame him; if you were in his place, you’d do the same. You draw in a deep breath, curling your nails into your palms.
“I…Should not have received you as I did when we found you in the desert.”
“You didn’t receive me at all.”
“And that is what I mean.”
You eye the floor as you feel Gurney turning to look at you, hold carefully still as you feel him approach you, your fingers still curled tightly into fists.
“If I had been able,” He says softly, “If I had known about you and Lady Jessica and Paul—”
“I know,” You whisper.
It’s a moment before he reaches out, taking hold of your hands. You pull in a soft, stunned breath at the touch; his hands are warm, and rougher than you remember. He turns your hands over, thumbs sweeping across the half-moons that your nails have dug in.
“There’s still time,” He offers, and before you have a chance to misunderstand his meaning, he presses: “To return to Caladan.”
You try not to let it sting you—the thought that this man has had you back for just a few days and is already chomping at the bit to be rid of you. Your fingers involuntarily flex, brushing against his where he holds you, still.
“There is,” You agree, “But as I said, my place is here, with Paul. Yours is, too.”
“Yes.”
You give one last, small nod before you draw your hands back from his. You take a step back, too, desperate to create space between yourself and Gurney. You clear your throat, tucking your hands into your pockets, out of reasonable reach.
“You should rest,” You offer. “Whenever we—Paul will want to get back out there as quickly as possible.”
You don’t give him a chance to respond. You turn away and stride back to where you sleep, forcing yourself to be secure in the knowledge that you’ve spoken, reconciled, and will move on.
Gurney is a good fighter, and a smart man. Your countenance has surely bounced off of him like sound from a wall. He’ll conduct himself in an appropriate manner, fight well, make his worth known to the others. You’ll approve of him publicly, encourage his company and conversation where you must, and hide from it where you’re able. You’ll still shield your discomfort, the embers of your misguided love in the sands of Arrakis, and burn your passion out in leveling and destroying Harkonnen soldiers and spice freighters.
Gurney always taught you to turn your feelings, your passion—any strong emotion—to guiding your fight, regardless of whether or not you felt in the mood for it when the need arose. You can do so now. You’ve always been a good soldier—and for him and his sake, you know that you will be the best.
--
Acceptance is slow. Gurney and Stilgar do not mesh quickly, but their shared belief and care for Paul keeps them on as even a footing as they can be. They still butt heads, still insist that they know better, but concede that Paul knows best. It makes for amusing conversation, watching the two bat their causes back and forth before ultimately yielding to your former trainee, Maud’dib, the Lisan Al-Ghaib. You try not to love it as you watch your wise Warmaster bite his tongue for Paul’s sake. You know that Paul appreciates his guidance, and, where it’s necessary, his compliance.
But when Gurney turns to meet your eye—to level an all-knowing look of ‘Can you believe this?’ or his imploration for back-up—you force your expression to a neutral set, merely arching a brow, as if to ask what he’ll do next.
You can see his frustration grow as you remain neutral, but you can’t bring yourself to side against the people that have accepted you and given you shelter for months. You’re certain that as much as it frustrates him, he understands, even if he doesn’t agree with you.
It doesn’t stop him from sitting beside you during meals. It doesn’t stop him from covering your back when you work with the others to take down Harkonnens, to level a freighter. It doesn’t stop the two of you from being near one another during briefings, or sharing knowing looks when you watch Paul and Stilgar disagree. Paul always was an ornery child, and it’s neither a surprise, nor an affront when he argues with authority. Hell—you wear it as a badge of honor, and you’re certain Stilgar does, too.
--
When you lose your pack in the midst of battle and your tent is destroyed, you know that you have other options. At worst, you could take an early watch, use the tent of someone that takes it on later. But Gurney’s hand pats against your lower back as he passes you, the words, “Come on,” Push out of his gruff mouth before you can even think to ask or argue.
You watch him go for a moment before you force yourself to follow. It’s been a long day of fighting, and you’re not willing to make it longer by nit-picking with him. You just follow him to his tent and duck inside. The two of you undo the clasps and fastenings on your stillsuits in silence. You take a little longer, hesitating and glancing back every few moments as you undo the suit. It’s been long since you’ve undressed near him, and even then you’re certain that he didn’t take notice. Now, the space is nearly cramped with the two of you, filled with the sounds of zips and pops. Once you’ve disrobed, you hurriedly change into your nightclothes—a flimsy, thin top and a pair of loose fitting pants.
By the time you turn to face him, Gurney has laid out the pad that you’ll both sleep on, cushioning you from the sand as you rest. He hasn’t taken up his place yet, and while you’d like to linger until he’s made himself comfortable, you force yourself to lie down and curl up on your side. You feel more than hear him settle beside you, the pad shifting slightly as he sinks down onto it. The two of you lay in the dark, still silence for a little while.
“...What happened to your balliset?” You can’t stand the quiet, and can’t bring yourself to ask about anything else.
“...It blew up.”
“Paul?”
“Mhm.”
“Damn.”
He huffs a soft laugh that warms you, and you smile.
“We’ll get you new one,” You promise before you can stop yourself.
“The Fremen don’t have one?”
“They have something like it. I’m sure you could learn.”
You hear him shift beside you, and squeeze your eyes shut as his warm breath brushes against your neck.
“Would you want me to?”
“...I want you to do anything that you like, Gurney Halleck.”
“Anything?”
“Mhm.”
You think that he’ll let it end there, and that he’ll let you both drift off into a peaceful sleep. Bu when his arm curls around your waist, you know that you won’t be able to sustain as you like.
You try to fight it. You want to be a rock in his arms, cold and unmovable—but when his arm winds around you, you melt into him like butter on warm bread.
--
Waking is slow. It’s accompanied by murmurs of Chakobsa around your tent, and the shushing of sand and spice around the tent. You sigh softly, shifting between the softness of the mat, and the hard body against yours.
You don’t dare open your eyes.
You can feel his lips and beard brushing tenderly against the curve of your jaw, his fingers flexing against your skin and curling in the hiked-up fabric of your top. You hum softly, tipping your head to the side and letting your forehead knock gently against his. You don’t know if he’s awake, but you’re not willing to open your eyes and find out. You expect him to draw back, to extricate his body from yours. And you wait to pull yourself fully from sleep, to draw your stillsuit back on and push away the sensation of being wrapped in his arms.
Neither of you make any such move.
His lips drift up a touch, pressing tenderly against the crest of your cheekbone. Your hand lifts as if on its own, smoothing against his rough cheek as a heady hum leaves your lips. Gurney’s grip tightens on your hip, pulling your body flush against his as his kiss brushes down to the upturned corner of your mouth. Your breath catches in your throat, fingers smoothing higher to curl in his hair as his hips roll gently against your side.
“Gurney.”
His name leaves you wrapped in a breath, wary that anything louder will wake him, truly wake him before you’ve had a chance to savor his touch. But he just groans, his nose brushing nuzzling as his lips sleepily find yours. You part your lips unthinkingly, tongues tangling as you trade syrupy-slow kisses.
It must be a dream—you've gone sleeping walking and been taken by a jinn. This has to be a trick or a trap—but as Gurney presses cloesr, covering his body with yours and spreading your legs wide to make room for him, you can't bring yourself to care, even if it is. You blink sleepily up at him as he draws away, holding your gaze as you gently comb your nails over his scalp. Your focus is only broken when someone taps on the top on the top of the tent, and Chani's warning of, "Breakfast," Breaks through.
Gurney glances up before his gaze flits to yours, awaiting your approval. You smile, giving a small shake of your head.
"I'm not very hungry."
Gurney's smile widens, eyes brightening with mischief as he lowers himself closer.
"Neither am I."
Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight; @amneris21
@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity
@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ;
@thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ;
@winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989
#Gurney Halleck x Reader#Gurney Halleck x You#Gurney Halleck/Reader#Gurney Halleck/You#Gurney Halleck fic#Gurney Halleck imagine#left behind
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NAH HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT ITS CLICHE AS FUCK BUT MC THROWING HANDS WITH SOMEONE IN SCHOOL CAUSE THEY WERE BULLYING COVE
(And to clarify just in case not like with Jeremy during step 2 where the mc can push him or hit him once or smth I mean like full on fight fight)
I just like to imagine everyone’s in the principals office and MC mom’s are all concerned and angry with MC cause they just beat up their classmate but then they’re like “Well they hit Cove first I was just returning the favour” and moms immediately FLIP cause why is the other kid just getting away with bullying why is their kid the only one getting punished?????
YEAHHH AND IT DOESNT EVEN MAKE SENSE WHY THEY TRIED TO FUCK W COVE BC IF HIS BIG ASS WASNT GONNA FUCK EM UP, YOU WERE BC YOURE CRAZY ABT EACH OTHER N IT JUST DONT MAKE SENSE BUT THATS OKAY, YOU DELIVER WHAT THEYRE ASKING FOR!!
ITS A WHOLW FUCKING RIOT AND IN THE END THE OTHER KID GETS PUNISHED AS WELL BUT UNFORTUNATELY MC GETS THE LONGER SENTENCE
and when they finally get home n your parents stop fretting over you, cove is all fidgety and when it's time to change any bandage, no matter how small, or add ointment to a bruise, he's all "wait! let.. let me help you" when you go to ask your mom's for help w it
and he's all gentle, but he looks sad so you ask what's wrong
"I just hate seeing you hurt"
taking coves face into your hands, squishing his cheeks, "I'd do it all over again. and I'd beat them up even more for even looking at you, I'd jump em even before they hit you if I could've."
cove is teary eyed n crying a bit prbly
"don't ever feel bad if I get into a fight. if it's for you, I'd get into 10 fights! no, a thousand!" you throw your arms wide in the air at that. "no one can touch you like that without getting fucked up twice as bad. so stop fretting okay" you smile and cove cries a fucking river bc you have a bandaid on your cheek, and your knuckles are still flushed/inflamed and have a scrape from missing one of your punches
"you're an idiot.." cove laughs, still crying
"ya know you love me, holden." you smile, wiping his tears.
he nods, "yeah, I do"
and you're stunned bc he just confessed???? omg???
and cove kisses your shocked face, you slap a hand on your cheek bc "KISS?"
n cove just laughs at your expression bc you're so surprised n it's so fuckin cute
so after that sometimes, during your suspension cove will give you a kiss on the cheek for defending his honor if you ask<333 (or don't, he'll do it one more time or so unless you ask him to stop ofc)
if anyone tries to fuck w him after, they're fucked once again
cove does try to keep you outta fights but I mean... if you do turn around n jump em, he won't stop you
giving very much Heather's "fight for me" but you're not deranged like JD
also Liz teases yall bc cove does admit that he loved watching you jump em LMAO
your friends would also be concerned, randy n Terri especially bc they saw it but they'd be like "FUCK YEAH!!!"
no one fucks w cove either while you're gone, OMG GOING TO PICK COVE UP EVERY DAY
the teachers are like "You're suspended you can't be here!!"
like I'm not here for you I'm here for HIM, n you ride off together laughing bc everyone is whispering but fuck em 👐👐👐👐
pls this is making me wanna zoom n like go crazy omg my head is spinning I love this sm
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Eddie sees his girlfriend's breasts for the first time
Eddie Munson x F!Reader
Boobs, its all fluff and boobs so 18+
Based on this post and a special thank you to @zarajyne for the inspiration {Some of the dialogue was from them}
Y/N kneeled on her boyfriend’s bed, her lips attached to her beloved Metalheads. She paused their kiss so that he could pull her shirt over her head. Eddie’’s eyes bugged out of his head and he froze as he stared at her chest.
She bit her bottom lip and crossed her arms to cover her large breasts. He blinked as he was snapped out of his daze.
“Sweetheart, why did you hide them from me?”
“Why did all you do is stare?” she countered.
“Because…because you are so small. I didn’t expect you to be so big.” He used his hands to enunciate the size.
She turned her face away to hide from him.
“Sweetheart?” Eddie asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. He tilted his head to try and catch her eye. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she answered, quietly. “It’s just…do you not like them?”
“What? No, I love them.”
Y/N blinked up at him. “You do? You don’t think they're too big?”
“Too big?” he balked. “No! They are perfect because they are yours. Why would you think that I would think that?”
“Because others have made some not so nice comments about them.”
“Idiots. They wouldn’t know a nice pair of breasts if it hit them in the face.”
She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her at his comment. He grinned as she playfully shoved his shoulder.
“I mean it, Sweetheart. You are beautiful and so are they.” he motioned to her covered chest. “Can…can I see them again?”
She nodded and uncrossed her arms, baring her bosom to her boyfriend’s eager eyes.
“Jesus H. Christ,” he muttered and adjusted himself in his black jeans.
“Would you like…to touch them?”
She could’ve sworn that Eddie had a stroke. Oh shit, I broke my boyfriend, she thought.
“Eddie?”
“I would be honored to touch them, Sweetheart.”
Y/N put on her best seductive face and batted her eyes at him. "Well, help yourself."
His jaw dropped. "You're killing me."
"You love it," she purred.
"Ozzy help me, I do."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eddie Munson Taglist:
@seros-bitch @eddiemunsons-girl @m-i-1-0 @lunar-flwr @winchester-angel @angelbbygrl @madnessismylover @cherrybean1116 @edwardjamesmunson @3ternalreal1ty
@meaganjm @sweetpeapod @eddiemunsonsfavbitch @fangirling-4-ever @zzokks @mattymurdocksbitch @fillechatoyante @luvbug4728 @doll-in-the-walls @ches-86 @shenevertricks1831 @urlocalhippie2029 @celestair @ruinedbythehobbit @purple-storm
@sarai-ibn-la-ahad @livslifeonline @strangerthingsstories5255 @becca-alexa @aactuaaltraash @wren-2-d
Stranger Things Taglist:
@valeriiecameron @maruushkka @rainbows-dreams @april-foolish
Stranger Things (Billy excluded) Taglist;
@sleepyhead1456
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things x reader#stranger things x you#stranger things x y/n#eddie munson x f!reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x female!reader
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@fireflywritesgt LOVINGLY WRITING MY UNHINGED CH23 THOUGHTS AND THEN BURYING THEM UNDER A READMORE. I felt such overwhelming hype when I saw we got 2 chapters in 1 day I truly was ready to throw my phone out the fucking window. TOO MUCH JOY FOR ONE LITTLE GNASH... I hadn't even finished processing ch21......
first off pov Joe when he goes to Calloway's to pick up his cute new tailored fit in 3 days
soooo right from the jump. hey.
"“…’cause he’s way better off than I am, it’ll make it harder for me to leave him or something. That he’s luring me in. I mean—” Joe laughed nervously as he steeled himself in preparation for how the captain would react to his next statement “—if it were a giant treating me the way he treats me, everyone would call me a pet.”
“Well of course they would, Joe. That’s because giants are evil.” The captain said matter-of-factly.
He may as well have poked Joe squarely in the eye. Nonetheless, the bartender continued."
hey. UM. Joe you beautiful idiot who canonically has bad luck and, presumably from reading this very chapter, a terrible poker face. Maybe you should have said. Any Other Thing? GODDD in my heart he's definitely sooo overconfident and drunk like wow I am so smooth :) nobody suspects a thing :) while Calloway is having a conversation with him like uh... just saying, but you know, none of us could stop you from. for example. idk. becoming a giant's pet. we wouldn't like that but it's just a random thing that came to mind just now, unrelated to the really tall really wealthy really powerful guy who is afraid of taking advantage of you by luring you in and giving you things like a giant would and maybe isn't treating you like a person. And you're afraid you shouldn't want it. Like BRO IT IS SO OVER FOR YOU even without Harry literally calling Joe's name 3+ times in the dead silence 😭😭😭😭 And presumably Harry having been waiting around there for a while to see Joe! Loitering in a way we know tinies are on guard about since they all noticed that snatcher back in Ch13!
They're idiots ur honor, so true, but it's all worth it to see Joe get rescued and swoon like a damsel ... I definitely wonder if Calloway observed any of that, and what he might think about it if so. >:) May or may not have been daydreaming and writing bits about how horrifying it would be to give your surrogate kid all this well-meaning advice, see him nearly slip to his death, and while you're hurrying down to try and help him, watching him call out to a walking nightmare for help and then get whisked away by it
I have a pet theory that everything we've seen from Calloway so far has been pretty heavily colored by it being from Joe's perspective when he's having a bad day, and maybe he will be more understanding than we think? Objectively, I didn't think he was being very rude or anything back in Ch 13, when he was speculating on Joe's love life. It rankled Joe, which is understandable, but he 1) he's happy that Joe looks good, 2) he doesn't let Gutters or O'Grady rag on Joe too hard and 3) he just generally seems like an interested father figure would about his kid's love life:
"“Oh, lay off him, Tim. It’s a good borrowing year!” Captain Calloway cut in. “We all have ‘em, we all enjoy ‘em, we all cry ourselves to sleep when they’re over.”
Relief washed over Joe like the warm water in Harry’s sink.
“Though I gotta say…” The captain gave a wry smile as he continued. “…it could just as easily be someone else’s good borrowing year if ya’ catch my drift. Could be he’s got a little sweetheart looking after him. A brick of pure chocolate? That’s practically a dowry."”
Although I may be wrong here, since Ch 21's incident at Tiny Town with the Italian mob that saved him gives us the insight that "[for] the first time in Joe’s entire existence at that, Joe understood what it was like to have a real father." So maybe Calloway is not that nurturing to Joe and not much of a caring dad -- as @remordsposthume's tags so wisely point out:
WTF WAS HE DOING LETTING HIM LEAVE THE BAR LMAO. Calloway's Den of Drunkards confirmed for an "everybody drive home drunk. it's not my problem" bar??? Everyone is processing TAoLaW thru their own cultural lens and. in that spirit. lmfao. I must say. Calloway reminds me of the libertarian redneck dads I've known who just let their kids do whatever. If he was a giant I think he'd let his kids ride ATVs thru the woods drunk. Most probably he would also be ridin around drunk with them. "If you die it's your own damn fault" being his motto is too on the nose LOL. Huge farm dad "I LOVE MY SONS. ONLY HALF OF THEM WILL SURVIVE TO ADULTHOOD BUT I DO LOVE THEM" energy. To Me.
(Btw Harry & Joe processing their parental issues together WHEN <3)
BUT ANYWAY YEAH EVEN IF CALLOWAY WAS THE MOST UNOBSERVANT GUY IN THE WORLD RE: THAT SUSPICIOUS CONVERSATION? YOU WERE LITERALLY BOTH SCREAMING EACH OTHERS' NAMES LIKE LOVESICK ROMANCE PROTAGONISTS RIGHT UNDER THE DREDGE THAT'S STILL PROBABLY GOT AT LEAST SOME NIGHT MARKET CUSTOMERS? HELLO?? @94444 we are on the same wavelength rn
AND MORE ABOUT CALLOWAY... I am very heartened by how you mentioned once, Warren, that you planned to give each character real depth and treat them with sincerity. I feel very interested about when that time will be for Calloway! We know that he takes in kids (or at least O'Grady and Joe scratch that. tag lore be upon me) and teaches them how to sell trinkets. We know that he hates giants. We know he's been horribly injured in a way that led to him losing a hand, an eye, and possibly teeth. Knowing what we do about the risks of being a borrower, and how casually cruel giants are to them, it's not unlikely those last 2 things are related. I'M TAKING YOUR TAGS AND RUNNING AWAY WITH THEM LIKE A DOG W SOMETHING IN ITS MOUTH.
So Calloway knew them for several years as vulnerable kids... then lost them for a year or so... then got them back after they escaped the watchmaker's? I will be interested to see if that trauma means he's more protective of them, or uh, still more drunk libertarian dad about them. Lmao. He seemed like he cared about Joe getting into Tiny Town way back in Ch3 tho at least! (as an aside... interested in who Gutters is, too. He SEEMS to be older than Joe/Tim, but he could also still be a Calloway Kid himself... he seems to defer to Calloway... and/or he could just be some guy embittered about giant/tiny relations. which. fair, brother.)
If the broader Tiny Town culture (such as it is... would word get around about this incident with Joe and Harry, or does news just not travel that well amongst lots of secluded borrower communities? much to consider. it makes sense in a dark way why you would physically mark somebody who's transgressed against society's cardinal rule, in a culture where you cannot generally spread information effectively) would reject Joe for his proclivities... will Calloway, too? Or is it Joe's anxiety making him think that? I'm afraid we already know how Tim would feel. Other than him, Calloway is the person who Joe seems most connected to in miniature society... Although Harry's worry about Joe not spending enough time around his fellow miniatures in Ch22 is at least partially motivated by his own guilt-trip, I think he has a bit of a point! I hope Joe doesn't lose touch with everyone -- or if he does, I hope there will be new friends out there for him, too, who are more understanding.
(LORRAINE WHEN)
Now Calloway aside, OBVIOUSLY THE ENDING OF THIS CHAPTER HAD ME HOOTIN AND HOLLERIN.
“Joe… can we go back to the big, sexy giant part for a second?” <- LIT'RALLY me rereading this chapter 800 times
A snapping turtle is a fantastic little horror for poor Joe to face, woof. Those fuckers are scary enough when ur height is measured in feet. The quick way they snap is no joke. Just want to 👏👏👏👏 about how good this passage is: The turtle’s maw emerged from the waters of the lake like the gaping mouth of some ancient monster that fed on the souls of sailors. The grimy lakewater rushed over its beady little eyes as its beak, sharp as a dagger, flew towards Joe faster than a gunshot. YEAH.
It just!! makes my little heart sooooo happy to see that Joe does have someone who will unconditionally look out for him...!!! Harry has his issues, and they're still learning how to open up about themselves, but he consistently shows up!! :') the thought of him waiting for his man all night ... hoping the dredge would be the place Joe meant ... and then acting sooo fast when he saw a tiny guy fall off of it... what a faithful hound of a [future] boyfriend. Calloway is so right. Joe deserves somebody to look after him. And Joe has done the (forgive me for the loaded meme) girl math on this. One big man is the best possible outcome for him. ONLY THE BIGGEST MAN WILL DO to keep him off of his bullshit as much as possible 👍👍
And OF COURSE god their conversation is just so so so fucking funny. "Thank you" "fuck no I'm not" -> "FUCK YOU" is INCREDIBLE i CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT IT lmaooooo and Harry still being so gentle about receiving this insult and trying to parse what Joe means ... he does listen to Joe, they're definitely not back to square one as drunk!Joe feared, his own issues are just getting in the way! (And Joe's are getting in the way of him seeing thru Harry's facade into what the real issue is! We love to see it!)
"“I meant that. You don’t get to call me handsome until you start listening to me.” He slurred. “You gotta—you gotta want it.”
Joe crossed his arms and scowled up at the beautiful man and his beautiful face as Harry tried to parse what Joe was saying.
“Want it…?” Harry echoed.
“Yeah. You gotta want to be my friend. And screw what anyone else thinks!”"
And did anyone else cackle at how Joe telephone-gamed Calloway's advice to still be in plausible-deniability-land. "You gotta want to be my friend" ok. not what he fuckin said. run that back real quick -> "Not if you’re being open about what you want and everything. That’s how love works, Joe. You gotta want it."
I just adored the moments of insight between them, too. "... Joe knew his real answer was yes – he was just too afraid to say it overtly. He argued and fought and begrudgingly accepted it instead. / What was that saying to Harry?" vs. Ch22 Harry's revelation: "How much of his relationship with Joe was genuine, he wondered, and how much of it was Joe going along with Harry’s suggestions in the name of diplomacy?"
Joe IS acting like somebody who's being coerced! Harry IS being a trustworthy guy by noticing it and checking in once their relationship is definitely turning intimate! It's so fascinating to think in hindsight that every time Joe turned red and embarrassed, Harry was having a thought at the back of his mind like "he doesn't want this. I'm scaring him. He doesn't want me, and he doesn't even know the real me yet. And worse, he can't tell me, because he's afraid of what I might do to him." But he can't SAY all that because it would hurt too much if he said it and Joe confirmed he was actually correct, so Ch22 comes out as a trainwreck where he's accidentally insulting Joe's ability to survive without him. (Side note I KNEW Harry wasn't REALLY considering Joe his landlord. Sad!!! That fucked up scrawny starving guy has squatter's rights and he was doing pretty good all things considered maybe !!!)
The respective issues ~Society~ has given both of them just make it impossible to talk about the root of their problems without baring your guts in a really terrifying way. OOF.
HOWEVER this chapter confirming that homophobia isn't such a problem in tiny society is going to make this eventual conversation betwen them real interesting... Harry like "You don't understand Joe :( there's something really wrong with me... ... I like ... men..." and Joe being like "omg :) :) :) :) :) wait what's wrong with you tho" and then Joe "No you don't understand Harry :( I know this is sick but... I like.. giants... I'm sure you could never see someone smaller than you as anything other than a pet ..." and Harry just ":) :) :) :) oh what no :) Georgie was shorter than me" I hope they can have a good, baffled laugh at how long they could've been snuggling guilt-free. At the end of the angst. <3
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Masterlist
Links - Twitch, Tumblr, and AO3 links here
One Shots
Soap x Ghost
Locked Together - (NSFW) They're stuck in a bathroom on a train
Konig x Watcher (Male OC)
Gaymers Unite - (NSFW) Lil bit of fluff, some tech support, most smut though, hope ya enjoy
Gaymers Unite Again - (NSFW) Just some more Konig smut, hope yall are feasting
Soap x Ghost x Konig x Watcher
They're Fraternizing Your Honor - (NSFW) Foursome between the gayest lil military men, it's filthy and it is all smut. No plot, not a single bit, enjoy.
OC Lore
Everyone's Ages
Height Chart Comparison
Speck Lore
Speck Pictures
Wade Pictures
Watcher Lore
Watcher Pictures
Spotify Playlist
Just Some Team Stuff
What The Dog Doin? - What the dog doin?
Series
Back Together (Soap x Ghost)
Originals available here
Part 1 - Dropping some OC lore, starting earlier than the original Back Together because I had ideas. Got some pining from a distance. I hope yall enjoy. Fair warning no actual Ghost sightings in this one just Soap's gay thots. That man is fighting for his life for real
Drowning In The Depths (Price x Male!Reader)
Part 1 - (NSFW) Slow night at the bar turns into a little more than the reader bargains for
Part 2 - (NSFW) Feed on the pining my lovely and supportive readers
Part 3 - Price and Speck fighting their gay demons
Part 4 - (NSFW) Interrogation done. Time to meet the team, make him jealous, be a thot, be an idiot, refuse to elaborate, leave, take your punishment like a man
Part 5 - (NSFW) Got a lil competition inbound, some more of Cerberus being the besto boi, and some NSFW content cause I truly just cannot stop myself. I am insatiable so feed
Part 6 - (NSFW) Reader is doing the interrogating now, get in there Speck
Part 7 - My boy getting some clothes, got some op planning, and then the op itself of course
Part 8 - Angry price, unhinged Speck/Reader, hurt and comfort, there is a lot of Speck lore being dropped in this chapter honestly
Part 9 - (NSFW) Smut, getting a bit more Speck lore for those of you who are now invested in this man because honestly same
Part 10 - (NSFW) We got a lot going on in this one, I ain't gonna lie. Pretty much just the aftermath of Soap and Ghost walking in on them (barging and running in on them) and Speck finally trying to deal with his past (in a healthy and productive way).
Part 11 - Come rot ya teeth. Both of them are being vulnerable, this shit as rare as a double rainbow (heh get it cause it's pride...I'm sorry).
Part 12 - (NSFW) Who said Price gotta be the Captain all the time? I am so sorry in advance
#ghostxsoap#slow burn#soap cod#soap#ghost cod#ghost#soapghost#soapxghost#ghoap#call of duty#modern warfare#modern warfare ii#captain price#john soap mactavish#captain john price#john price#kate laswell#kyle gaz garrick#konig cod#konig#kyle garrick#gaz#captain price x oc#captain price x male reader#captain price x reader#john price x oc#john price x reader#john price x male reader#cod#cod mw2
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okay quick 2x04 thoughts before i go off to make some gifs!
moiraine in cairhien was so fun!! loved getting a peek at her childhood and family
i gasped when it was revealed that moiraine (and presumably siuan) deliberately planted logain in cairhien to lure rand, even though i should've seen it coming! i should've known moiraine's always playing 4D chess!
WE STAN ANVAERE, absolute queen shit. she out-moiraine'd moiraine! also, as a younger sister who spent my whole childhood craving my older sister's approval, Felt
i'll admit i'm not jazzed about lan's storyline this episode. it was a little interesting and i liked getting a look at what alanna is like "outside of work", and she and maksim and ihvon continue to be top-tier secondary characters, but it felt like too much time and i wish some of this screentime had gone to mat or egwene instead. though i'm guessing we'll be getting much less of lan and more of others (especially egwene, for obvious reasons) next week!
but i AM intrigued by the direction they're going with lan's bond. everyone had speculated alanna's absorbing myrelle, but given that lan's getting on pretty well with them all and alanna seems to be leaving the decision in his hands and even suggests he could soon bond with nynaeve, i really do wonder if they might just have lan's bond go straight to nynaeve post-moiraine's-"death" and keep alanna & rand as the only non-consensual bonding in the show. it's a bit of a repetitive plot beat and i don't think anything would break if lan's version of it was skipped.
egwene referencing rand to elayne but without mentioning his name or any distinguishing info about him!!!!! this definitely gives me hope for a cute little scene of rand and elayne encountering each other in falme without realizing they have mutual friends.
i was SO confident that blonde warder trainee in the trailer was gawyn, but it turns out he was just a random background guy! i have been catfished! but maaaaaaybe it really was him but he just wasn't credited because he's not being officially introduced until a later episode? please???
LEANE'S OUTFIT!!! and ooooh great setup for the falme trip AND the coup next season (i'm sure some people will be more convinced by liandrin/elaida merger after this scene, but i truly don't think that'll happen bc a) it wouldn't work storywise for a number of reasons, b) if they were merging them they would've named the character elaida instead of liandrin)
i LOVED perrin's scenes with elyas!!! and this is coming from someone who was always bored to tears by perrin povs in the books! elyas delivering exposition like it was the most obvious thing in the world and perrin's an idiot for not knowing was a GREAT vibe haha and we have confirmation that perrin's visions aren't a visual representation of his smelling abilities, but rather sendings from the wolves! and we got hopper!!!!!
liandrin's convo with nynaeve was SO GOOD. i was going "awww this is so sweet, i love this" "oh wait, betrayal incoming, shit" djkjfg they did a great job of making it believable that nynaeve (and the audience) would trust liandrin's word about going to falme. also, the show's focus on the tragedy of aes sedai longevitiy is excellent, 10/10
elayne my beloved!!!!! "yes i'm following you obviously" i love her your honor!!!! and the earlier moment where she admits being curious about what it's like not to have your whole life mapped out, but then says she wouldn't trade places with egwene. baby! can't wait to get to her queen arc eventually!
FASCINATED by the reveal that min is working with liandrin because liandrin had promised to take her powers away from her. what an amazing story choice!!! it lends min some much-needed narrative meat, it makes SO much sense that she would find uncontrollable foresight to be a burden and a curse, and it sets up a potential arc of her learning more about/coming to terms with her powers. in the books she never has many thoughts on what it's like to have these powers, so i LOVE that the show is going to explore that more.
overall i'm quite surprised by the relative lack of mat in the season so far! i'd assumed they'd want a lot of time with him early since he was out of the final 2 eps of s1. but i'm sure he'll get a more focal episode later! on that note, i'm a bit worried because imdb doesn't have min in episode 5, and they do have mat, but it could just be because donal is a regular so gets billed for every episode even if he doesn't appear. because i'm not sure it'd make sense for mat to appear but not min next episode? but it's possible, and it's also possible that min will appear and imdb isn't accurate. still, i'm bracing myself for no mat storyline next week.
at least we got confirmation on the where & why of their trip: cairhien because ishamael wants to get mat and rand back together!! highly relatable of him, i must say
i don't even know what to say about the rand & lanfear stuff, it was SO good i'm shaking!!!!! but poor rand has probably been put off bondage forever now which is absolutely tragic djkfjgh
update to add: i can't believe moiraine walked in on rand mid-sex (with a forsaken) i hope they have the world's awkwardest conversation about it once they've stopped fleeing for their lives. there is a spectrum and This & mean girls "do you need anything? snacks? a condom?" are on opposite ends of it
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Hi! I saw you wanted some JonDami idea sooo:
• First time they hold hands
• First time Damian felt safe enough to fall asleep on Jon
• Discussing baby name when still in high school (which I did lmao)
• Seeking help from their siblings on how to ask the other in a date
• Eloping right out of high school to get married because they're idiots in love
• First kiss!! How did I forget that!!
• During patrol while high on adrenaline or maybe they were at the farm relaxing under the sunset or after playing video games and laughing with each other!
• One of my soft favourite to picture: leaning on each other, forehead against forehead or cheek against cheek, just existing and feeling the other's warmth
I have ton of other ideas and some hc but I think it's enough rn lol
Thx u byye!!
LET'S DO IT. (assume all ages are 16+ I guess, idk does it matter?)
First time they hold hands: pre-romance. Jon's powers shorted out and he fell outta the sky. Damian caught him by his hand just in time, and when he pulled him to safety he just...didn't let go. Jon noticed but didn't say a WORD.
First Time Damian fell asleep on him: Probably right after the relationship started/became official. They'd both had a rough hero week and Damian had been on edge just, forever. So they sit against a wall in the cave and one second they're sitting there in silence and the next, Damian's dropping against his shoulder already konked out. Jon panics for half a second but then Dick sees them and says 'He only sleeps when he feels safe.' and those words shake Jon to his core.
Baby names: This is all Jon. Jon just starts rambling about it one day. "How would we honor both our cultures? Or do we at all? Do we go with an -El name, or a name from your mom's side or just call him Bob?" Damian is endeared for a while but quickly gets so fucking annoyed because every name is more ridiculous than the last.
Siblings help: Jon obviously asks Kon and Kon is SO. JACKED. TO. HELP. He hesitates a little when he finds out it's Damian but, honestly, the kid is at least alright. Damian, much to the Kents surprise, does NOT ask Dick or even Tim. He consults Cass first, who asks Steph to standby as she gives her advice, and Jason, for reasons mentioned in previous asks in that he's a sucker for a classic romance novel so, clearly, he is An Expert.
Eloping: Honestly? Yes. And it happens at the same time one of them (I'm thinking Jon) says I love you for the first time. The other reciprocates (Damian) and one of them (Jon) sarcastically says 'really? well damn let's just go get married right now.' and Damian just goes. "Okay." and.......................they do. Maya officiates, Kathy is the witness, and the only family in attendance is the pets. (Goliath is flower girl)
First kiss: First kiss is at a Wayne Holiday gala/Justice League xmas party not long after they started dating and the end up under mistletoe. They do the hesitant peck thing first but then oh boy they like it and mmmmmm Clark and Bruce might have to rethink allowing sleepovers anymore.
Chillin': Jon gets so entranced when Damian laughs he literally just stops functioning. He will stop and stare and was even caught drooling a little bit once. (by Jason, no less.) If he's with Damian/it's just them, if Damian's laughing, he'll start laughing and just pull Damian as close as he can and they just keep laughing together.
SOFT FOREHEADS: There's some world-ending situation and they've been separated for most, if not all, of it. The day is saved and they're finally reunited on a rooftop somewhere. And they run desperately at each other but when they reach, they know the whole League is watching them and Damian's not big on PDA (and tbh neither is Jon, if only for protective reasons) so they just grab each other's hands and stare deep into each other's eyes until one of them well up with tears and closes his eyes and they just ~gentle forehead touch~
#jondami#jonathan kent#damian wayne#also shippy headcanons#do you like how i just got more insane as it continues on#zephyrwrites#asks
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Hi friend do you have any Charles/Erik fic recommendations of a gentle variety? I watched the First Class era recently and am just….a lil broken up Re:: the pain of Charles losing his best friend and his sister at the same time… and then bottling up that pain for as long as he could until “you took her away and you left me!”
Okay, nonnie! I've got a few here that may interest you. Now, I'm a big fan of hurt/comfort fics, so I can't promise anything too gentle, unfortunately. 😅 (Most of my bookmarks are hella dark apparently) Anyway! Ill list you some I recently read, and mostly remember.
How Still My Love by Regann
"A mysterious sleeping disease, three loyal guardians, and a friend-turned-foe with unclear motives. It might sound like something out of a fairy tale but it's life after Cuba in the Xavier manor for what's left of the so-called X-Men. When Charles can no longer lead them, it's up to Hank, Alex and Sean to figure out a way to protect their mentor, especially once Erik comes seeking an audience. (Variously nicknamed "the Fairytale Fix-it," "Snow Charles and the Three Wishes," and "Alex feels via Charles/Erik." All three are pretty accurate.)"
This one I highly recommend, it's so cute, and the way the author played with fairy tales is fun. Fair warning tho, Erik doesn't stay at the end of this fic. But Charles' heart is a bit more mended.
Second Chances by justavagrant
This one is a time travel fic. Basically young child age Charles, Raven, and Erik replace their older counterparts. The kids build a close friendship real quick, and I believe it's ongoing.
Another Like Me by Ad_astrah
It's 1950, young Charles is getting his powers under control. He meets Erik, 19 years old, who's tracking down Nazis and killing them. They go on a little adventure together.
Elpis by garrideb
Cute protective Erik, injured Charles. This fic is a treat!
Not Yet by GenuineSnoof
"AU - No Beach Divorce and no bullet, but Erik still didn't stay at the school for good. They have an established "with benefits" relationship."
Cold Hands, Warm Heart by pinkoptics
Cherik fic set in Genosha!
Idiot Control Now by cygnaut
"Hank screws something up in the lab and everyone's powers increase tenfold. Not knowing how to control them like this, they all try to cope and not kill each other by mistake while Hank tries to find a way to reverse the effects. Charles has a particularly hard time of it."
Come Together by blarfkey
Series of fics, from Peter's point of view. Decent amounts of Cherik.
Peter's Stepdad by nzeedee
"Peter takes his time to observe and learn more about Erik as he works up the courage to make a family connection. Soon he realizes that Charles is a valuable asset in Erik's life and they may come as a unified pair."
AND some honorable mentions:
First Class Era:
5 Ways Logan Fixed Everything (Like a Boss) by Starlingthefool
Reverse Polarity by smilebackwards (powerswap fic, can't remember well tho)
What Not To Expect When You're Not Expecting It by thehoyden (mpreg, but if you're not into that, I'm not usually either, I think this one was done in a fun way)
DOFP:
A source of knowledge, a source of hope by redaurorarora
Post/Apocalypse: (these might be my favorite, I'm a sucker for comforting charles after apocalypse)
More by humanveil
things we lost in the fire by goodmorningbeloved (3799steps)
all the things i thought I knew (I'm learning again) by spacenarwhal
Hope you like these, nonnie! Sorry if they couldn't be more gentle! I do hope they're more satisfying than the end of FC. 💀 I know your pain.
#Bardicious Asks#Anonymous#cherik#cherik recs#cherik fic#first class fic#x men#Between Rage and Serenity#xmen#xmen movieverse#xmen dofp#xmen first class#xmen apocalypse#most of my bookmarks involve SO much pain lmao#so I really went for the ones I mostly remembered#I don't think any of these ended with heartbreak#the first one is cute#I wish I could give more!#if I find new ones Ill add to this post
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going through the lestappen tag and seeing all those anons in your inbox with a similar take, something has clearly shifted between charles & max. before they were more, awkward around each other but since last week they are more…blatant and confident in their flirting and interactions. idk what changed, i mean the people leaning towards it being for pr have a point but i don’t see why they’d be doing that being that the championship has been won so it’s like they are fighting for one rn and their teams need to keep things cool to avoid a war. and this effort has been 99% on rbr’s side re-emphasizing that yes they are indeed posting lestappen. also i know maxiel is popular too so they could’ve use that for the engagement not use their main rival team’s no. 1 driver. i mean if it’s for pr also why not use yuki and pierre? i mean pierre was with them for so many years so it would go to show that there was no bad blood. why not max and carlos? they have their moments too and carlos used to be in toro rosso with max. why not max and lando? i mean???what is going on? and no it’s not about ea sports because if it was about just racing, there would be race related activities and teasing. yes, there’s a 70% they have a ea sports collab coming up but this is so much more than that. and no, this ask/unsolicited opinion has been sent with my lestappen rose colored glasses removed. the way charles is looking at max and engaging him is something else entirely. and whatever it is, i’m here for it.
psa: i sent this to you because you are the most level headed lestappen blog out here. ilysm jsyk
🌸
I very much agree with your take on this, anon. Something has definitely shifted between Max and Charles recently, and I firmly believe it’s because they both have wanted it to. Their relationship and their interactions have a whole other vibe to it now than it did a few months ago, and given both their personalities and how they are both definitely mostly in charge of their own brands and how they’re coming across, it appears to be 100% genuine. It’s because they genuinely do like and respect each other, and they enjoy each other's company. That much is clear as day on both their faces whenever they’re in each other's vicinity. The change in their relationship, I believe, is entirely organic and genuine.
Now, as for RBR and Ferrari posting Lestappen content on their social media channels lately? Part of my full-time job includes quite a bit of marketing, and over the years I've garnered quite a bit of knowledge about the topic. And one thing that is very important to remember is that any and all content posted to social media channels belonging to big, famous brands such as Red Bull Racing and Scuderia Ferrari is in some way, shape, or form a markering ploy. For those types of brands, there is PR value in just about everything, and the people running those accounts are not idiots. They’ve seen the impact and engagement Lestappen content triggers, and they are absolutely seeing it as an opportunity to profit off of it. But what I do find incredibly interesting about this, though, is that we have no idea why they're doing it. Exactly what their end goal with this type of content is or what it’s building up to, only time will tell. And I, for one, am very excited to see where this will end up going.
Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts, anon. Your brain is a truly wonderful place.
Babe, you are far too kind, and I'm so glad you think my blog is a level headed place! I do try my best to be. There are so many wonderful Lestappen blogs out there, so it’s such an honor that you chose to send this beautiful ask to me. 🥹
I love you, and hope you will have a beautiful Sunday. ❤️
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