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genshin-impact-unofficial · 6 months

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💘~Let me see you~💘

Genshin men brushing your hair away from your face.

Ft. Itto, Diluc, Xiao, Tighnari

Tags: long-haired!reader, pre-relationship, huge crushes, fluff, meet cutes, a little gaslighting for flavor, flustered dorks, extremely PG here just sweet torturous pining. Note: I'm back! If this looks familiar than it probably is. Other than a few tweaks, this is a repost from my old blog! I will be posting my old stuff and working on new things too! Enjoy!

Itto

Listen…. This man’s impulse control is ZERO. So reaching out and tenderly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear was never a second thought.

Itto has always been a touchy person. You are no stranger to being included in elaborate handshakes, crushing hugs, palm aching high-fives, and the occasional holding of the hand while he leads you to the next bout of mischief the gang is getting into.

This touch tho….. was so much softer than you've ever thought the oni capable of. You'd question whose hands they were if not for the soft graze of Itto’s long pointed nails.

It's not weird unless you make it weird...... Please don't make it weird.

If you point out the gesture, he insists that he was just helping a homie out. Bro is DENSE, absolutely clueless that he has a big ol' crush.

Everyone in the Arataki gang was dying to know what would happen next in the newest adventure novel from Yea Publishing House. This volume of the popular story had just been released and if they weren’t quick enough it was bound to sell out! Sure, it was only going to take a couple days to restock but the spoilers were guaranteed to be all over the streets by then. Itto was at the forefront of the line, insisting the whole gang camp out early to snag one. It became evident that this is where the Oni’s foresight had ended. The rowdy bunch was standing in front of the seller when the realization had hit; you were all too broke to get copies. In an act of impulse desperation, you had the bright idea to ban together. One by one, members emptied each of their wallets of what little mora they had. You could hear the grumbles and complaints from other people waiting in line as you quickly added it all up. Shinobu would definitely scold you all if she there and not caught up in ‘cool ninja stuff’ as Itto calls it. You proudly announced it was enough for one volume.... and a couple snacks. Overall, a complete success in Itto's book!

“Great going Y/N! We have the next volume of ‘I Stubbed My Toe And Became A Vampire Magical Girl In Another World’ AND we have enough tri-colored dango to go around! See? What did I tell ya? We keep nothing but the best here in the Arataki gang!” The oni bragged with the widest grin stretching from ear to ear. He laughed as he wrapped one beefy arm around you and punched the other triumphantly in the air. Itto’s energy was contagious and soon even you were also holding the book up and exclaiming with the others just how much the Arataki gang rules.

Broke and happy, the ban of hoodlums cheered for their victory and gathered on the beach. You’ve learned a thing or two since joining the Arataki gang, like how to get comfortable almost anywhere. You handled getting the bonfire going as Mamoru was already poking sticks through lavender melons. The rest of the guys were off grabbing makeshift seats like stumps or big rocks. It didn’t take long since this was far from their first rodeo. Once the fire was big and healthy, Itto boisterously bestowed upon you the honor of storyteller. The boys eagerly sat around the fire to finally enjoy the fruits of their labor. You chuckled at his antics and dove right into the first pages. You barely registered how Itto diligently chose the closest seat and hung off your every word. Everyone was a great audience, ooo's and ahh's were always right on cue.

The main character just discovered their newest magic vampire power and were heading into the heat of their latest battle when…. you froze. The words on the page stopped computing as soon as you felt a feather soft touch on your skin. Tentative fingers swept across your forehead and lingered for just a moment behind your ear. You must have been so caught up in the excitement that you didn't think to tie up your hair. It was spilling over your face while you were reading. When you glance over, you are met with Itto's complete and utter attention. His intensely crimson eyes are locked on only you, listening intently with a relaxed smile across his features. He looked at ease and entirely oblivious to the fact that he just made your heart skip a beat.

"Boss you can flirt with Y/N later! The big fight is about to happen!" Genta complained loudly, followed by agreeing groans from the rest of the boys.

"Pffft flirting?!?!? I was just looking out for my bud here! As a responsible leader of this crew its my responsibility to-... to make sure Y/N doesn't get hair in their mouth and choke! I just saved their life! It’s foresight like this that makes me qualified to be the head honcho around here!" Itto's ramblings got louder and more confident with each word, thoroughly doubling down on his point. The Oni stood at full height and began spewing his facts about the serious dangers of choking and the statistics of deaths by hair per year, most of which you were sure were untrue.

"Ok! Ok boss! Sure, please can we get on with the novel?" Akira groaned, not fooled for one second, but wanting so badly for it to end.

You put the bumbling man out of his misery and cleared your throat loudly. Itto’s ego was stroked enough and took the hint to settle down. The man reclaimed his spot next you without a fuss, his dopey smile returned yet again. You attempted to cover your heated cheeks with your book and willed yourself to forget the tingling on your skin where Itto's touch had lingered. You shook your head up clear your thoughts enough to get comfortable once again. There were still the final chapters to get through and the show must go on!

Diluc

LET ME TELL YOU! This man has TOO MUCH impulse control.

Diluc is so well-versed in etiquette and would never carelessly reach into someone's personal space without permission. Unless it’s a FIGHT.

Something about you makes all that etiquette go right out the window. He is doing it before he can think himself out of it.

He would scold himself for overstepping and possibly making you uncomfortable. He apologies earnestly, ever the gentleman.

Internally flustered, but hides it a little too well. Composure is this man's bread and butter after all.

Is acutely aware of the fondness they have for you. He often busies himself with other matters to keep from dwelling on it too much.

To say you bit off more than you could chew would be an understatement. The sack of potatoes you bought from Springvale looked deceptively light before. In your rush to get back to Dawn Winery, you didn't even think to use a wagon or bring any help. You were sure Adelinde was going to be so disappointed at how late you were.

As the newest maid, you were eager to prove yourself. Everyone at the manor was nice, but Master Diluc seemed particularly reserved with you. The master of the house was quite friendly at first, often sharing a few conversations with you as you cleaned around his office. You deliberated whether it was the vases of flowers you switched out in his office. Cecelias just seemed to brighten up the place more. Or maybe it was when you arranged his meals to resemble cute animals sometimes. But you only did that when you notice him having a particularly rough day! Ugh, he must think you're so unprofessional.

You let your thoughts wonder as you miserably carried your potato’s. Soon you felt your steps become sluggish and a slight tremble in your arms, signaling you couldn't go much further. The winery was still another half mile away but you had no choice. You slumped down in defeat on a near by rock. You were sure definitely going to be fired for this, how careless of you to not think ahead. Even if Diluc disliked you, you really enjoyed your time at the winery and getting to know everyone. You hung your head in shame, praying that you at least got to say goodbye to the rest of the staff before getting kicked out the manor.

"Y/N? Are you hurt?" A hand cut through your curtain of hair that blocked your view of the approaching figure. Gingerly, the gloved hand guided the strands away from your face and tucked them behind your ear. Diluc was crouching in front of you, his intense gaze scanned your features for discomfort.

"Master Diluc! No I'm alright! I'm so sorry I-" You quickly explained your situation and tried to stay focused while Diluc's gentle touch lingered on your skin. He seemed visibly relieved to learn you were unharmed. It was only then he noticed his encroachment. The man jerkily retracted his hand and leaned away to give you some space. The red haired man seemed alarmed for but a moment before clearing his throat to recompose himself.

"My apologies, I heard you gone alone to Springvale and had still not returned. This path can be dangerous when it gets late. I saw you crouched over and I thought.... Regardless I apologize for my boldness.” Diluc stated awkwardly. Despite his shyness, he still looked every part of a prince when he stood and offered you his hand.

“Thank you for being concerned.” You smiled and took his hand. “I’m just lucky to have such a thoughtful master! There was no need to come all the way out here for me.” You lied through your teeth and turned to attempt to lift the sack once again. Diluc cleared his throat and visibly clammed up once more. Wordlessly, he lifted the potatoes in your arms and began walking back to the winery. You tried insisting that you could do it, but he stubbornly declined and refused to meet your gaze. It was quite endearing to see the confident master of the dawn winery made such a bashful gesture. Perhaps your boss didn’t dislike you as much as you think....

Xiao

Be nice. Dude doesn’t understand the intimacy of the gesture. Why are you suddenly acting so strange?

Xiao was just annoyed that it was in the way. As a man of action, it was only natural to moved it. It is nothing more.

He wasn’t going to let a strand of hair keep him from looking at your face. Why is that such a big deal? Why are you red? He’s just telling you the truth.

Nah, it was you and your mortal reactions that is making him flustered. It was you staring at him with those big cute mortal eyes that’s causing this. It has to be, there’s no other explanation. (Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss)

Is either clueless or refuses to connect the dots that he likes you a lot. Its probably a mixture of both.

Working at the Wangshu Inn came with a few perks and stargazing after your shift was by far your favorite. The view, sounds, and atmosphere were wonderful. And it wasn’t just anywhere that you also get a quality companion to share it with. You had just settled in and laid the two plates of almond tofu next to you. It took but a few moments from when his name left your lips for Xiao to appear. The stoic man wordlessly walked over and took his usual seat nearby. Routine took over from there but getting to this point was akin to pulling teeth.

Xiao was annoyed when you initially took a liking to his vantage point. The adeptus could see all the surrounding hillychurl camps from the spot you insisted on sitting at for hours. He took no joy in intimidating humans, but his looming presence usually worked to deter mortals from he didn’t want them to be. Imposing aura or not, everyone has to share. You stubbornly stood your ground and stated the roof was plenty big enough for the two of you. Xiao would never resort to physically moving you, therefore was forced to relent. He remained out of sight but you sometimes caught glimpses of him when he would arrive there first. You couldn’t help the small inkling of guilt in your chest from forcing the other out of the spot. You really didn’t mind sharing. As a peace offering you began to leave small gifts behind. Sometimes they were small trinkets, some folded origami, or occasionally fruits and other snacks. When you saw your gifts still there, you would simply take it and replaced it with something else. It took nearly two months but when you returned to see your gift gone for the first time, you couldn’t help but smile the rest of the night. It became like a habit, not unlike befriending a crow.

Learning Xiao took a liking to almond tofu was the real game changer. You made your best effort to cook the dish yourself, cutting no corners. When you left the meal box there you expected it to be like the other gifts that disappeared into the night. It was a shocking to see something in return the next day. It took only a few more days for the yaksha to finally cave and joined you. He primarily insisted that you didn’t have to keep making your offerings. You laughed when the realization hit you. You spent the last months quite literally making offerings to an adeptus, praying for forgiveness.

Over time, the company became expected on the rooftop and the silence was comfortable. When conversation was sparked it flowed naturally and cemented an unlikely friendship. Although friendlier, Xiao could still be blunt and dismissive at times. It happened especially when he became frustrated with understanding mortal’s ever changing customs.

“You can’t just hold people’s faces like that!” You squeak, hiding your burning face in your hands.

“I wasn’t holding your face. I was moving your hair away, its blowing everywhere. I can’t even see you when its this windy. You should be wearing it up so I can look at you while you’re talking.” Xiao responded defensively but his tense tone didn’t match the words leaving his mouth. It especially contrasted the way he had used both his hands to smooth down your hair on each side, pausing to look back into eyes. When his stare hadn't let up, you were the one to break away. Your heart was damn near about to beat out of your chest.

“That’s something that.... lovers do! It’s embarrassing in this context.” You try to explain, noticing his frustration. Xiao’s eyes widened just a tad before avoiding eye contact altogether and crossing his arms.

“That doesn’t make sense. Just forget it happened then and keep telling your story about the inn guest.” The yaksha stated, grabbing his plate and turning away as he listened. The moon was just full enough for you to spot a small dusting of pink on Xiao’s ears. You decided to show him mercy and didn’t push it further. After all, it would probably take weeks of offerings for him to forgive you for teasing him.

Tighnari

No sweat. Doesn’t even bat an eye at the physical contact. He’s just being practical.

It doesn’t stop there. This dude will give you a whole up-do. It’s dangerous to keep your hair loose like that in the forest. He’s seen plenty of cases.

Your safety comes first and foremost. As soon as Tighnari notices it obstructed your vision he is on it. He’s surprisingly good at styling it too. Its not unlike braiding ropes and vines.

More insistent than normal on the matter. He claims it’s because you’re still relatively new to the forest. But other forest watchers may beg to differ.

He considers you a good friend, but it does confuse him when he notices these odd waves of protectiveness. It’s something he’s going to have to research further before coming to any solid conclusions.

There is extensive in-depth training that each forest ranger must go through before being allowed to step foot outside the marked trails of the Avidya Forest. It was grueling, but totally worth it when you saw you were finally scheduled for your first real patrol! As part of training, Forest Watcher Tighnari was assigned to accompany you and show you the ropes. You meticulously poured your lesson notes and made sure you had all necessary equipment on hand. Tighnari was the best there was and there was a part of you that really wanted to impress him. He was sure to quiz you right? There is no way he would let someone into the dangerous parts of the forest without being sure that you knew your stuff right? Nerves were definitely getting the better of you.

In hindsight it was quite silly to have worried so much. Tighnari was surprisingly easy to get along with and not afraid to get straight to the task at hand. As the week went on, you eagerly accompanied him on his routes and witnessed first hand just how brilliant the forest watcher was.

You didn’t expect how down to earth the revered Chief Forest Watcher Tighnari turned out to be. It was common for him to go off on tangents and lectures here and there, but it never felt like he was just trying to flex his knowledge or question yours. He was kind of excitable in that way, and you couldn’t help but find it quite endearing. You picked up on the quirks that indicated that was become accustomed to rangers spacing out while he talked on and on. Tighnari even seemed surprised that you had follow up questions about the topics he was just rambling on about. His ears were always a dead giveaway that he was caught off guard. Even someone without a big ol’ stupid crush would have found it cute.

The tall fluffy ears in question may or may not have added to your carelessness on this particular hike. Perhaps it was why a tiny little branch sent you tumbling down into a ravine. Later you would be corrected that the ravine in question would more accurately be labeled a gully, though that specific fun fact was far less welcomed.

“Y/N?!? Are you alright? Don’t move, I’ll be right there.” Tighnari called out urgently and hurried over to you.

“I’m okay. I don’t know how well you can treat a bruised ego though...” You called back. Attempting a joke to hide how embarrassed you felt. It wasn't your smoothest move. Tighnari was there in moments to help you sit up. His nimble fingers began untangling your hair from your face so that he could to get a better look at you.

“This isn’t a time for jokes Y/N. That could have been a serious fall.” You've heard this tone before. It was usually reserved for reckless forest visitors or rangers that didn't heed his instructions and cause trouble. This was your first time being on the receiving end and to make things worse you looked a mess with twigs and dirt covering you from head to toe.

“I know. I’ll be better next time.” You replied dejected. Tighnari managed to brush your hair back to take a look, but your eyes darted anywhere else while he examined you.

“You're lucky enough to walk out of that with just a couple minor abrasions. Just be careful alright?” Tighnari concluded, his tone softened considerably. You braved yourself to sneak a small glance up at him and he offered you a comforting smile. “Although, I do have an inkling of what caused you to misstep in the first place.” The forest watcher continued.

“And what would that be?” You asked far too quickly. The only way you were ever going to admit to ogling over your boss’ cute fluffy fox ears was over your dead body god damn it!

“Having your hair loose at this length can prove quite hazardous while paroling. I must have overlooked it before. Here, come sit I think I have a solution.” A careful hand guided you over to a nearby log. Next you felt the small tugs and pulls of the remaining twigs being dislodged from your hair. Tighnari was gentle but efficient while he worked behind you.

The ambiance of the forest made the silence quite enjoyable. It became so relaxing you could fall asleep if you wanted. You probably would have too, but you became hyper-aware each time Tighnari's gloved fingers brushed past your skin. After some time he announced he was done and you reached behind your head to feel what you could only describe as an intricate braid leading down your back.

“Wow! I didn’t expect.... thank you!” You said, in awe at his handwork.

“All in a day’s work. Come on we should be heading back before dark.” Tighnari led the way back to the trail. “And uh, watch your step.” He added with a sly grin. You rolled you eyes and chuckled at the playful sass. There’s plenty interesting specimens to learn about in the Avidya Forest and you were sure you just found your favorite.

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peachy-panic · 4 months

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Companion, pt. 1

New Do No Harm content? In the current timeline? In 2024 the year of our lord? Could it be?

Here's part 1 of a couple-part saga in the Sebastian contract, which I lightly foreshadowed here.

WARNINGS: Not much outside the usual BBU tag and the uncomfortable power dynamics that come with it.

The house is warm when Sebastian gets home, in every sense of the word. A candle flickers an inviting glow on the coffee table, and the smell of garlic and onions rushes to greet him. As expected, he finds Jaime posted in the kitchen, tending to his latest creation on the stovetop. On the small bluetooth radio beside the toaster, a song he doesn’t recognize is playing.

It’s taking some time for Sebastian to get used to coming home to someone. For so long, for most of this adult life, it has been dark, empty apartments or cold, distant roommates, never allowed past arm’s length. And now, there’s Jaime, who has entered his life like a bullet and smiles over his shoulder when Sebastian walks into the room.

He is getting better these days at reading his smiles, and this one, at least, appears to be genuine. Relieved, almost, that he is home.

“Hi,” Jaime says first.

“Hello,” Sebastian echoes, dropping his coat over the back of a barstool. “What are we making?”

“It’s an Ezra recipe,” Jaime says, wiping his palms on his pants. “Is soup okay tonight? If that’s not substantial enough, I am happy to make something else with it.”

Sebastian does not let his smile drop or fade, no matter how desperately uncertain Jaime sounds. “Soup sounds great, Jaime. It smells amazing.”

It’s the truth, too. It’s a difficult balance, wanting to compliment his prowess in the kitchen and appreciate the genuine joy he seems to derive from it, while also trying not to think of the how and why. Sebastian doesn’t know much about what “training” looks like inside the facility, especially for the specialized domestic tasks that would have been assigned to Jaime, and he doesn’t particularly like speculating on the details. From everything he’s seen in the clinic, he knows that none of it is pleasant.

“How was work?’ Jaime asks, then seems to catch himself. He stiffens, looking sheepishly away. “Sorry. You probably aren’t allowed to talk about that.”

Sebastian snorts. “If only doctor-patient confidentiality applied in a place like that.” The words come out before he can consider the significance they carry to the person he’s speaking to. Guilt spikes sharp in his chest. “Sorry, that wasn’t…”

“It’s okay.” Jaime smiles, but it’s a tense, brittle line.��

“Um.” Sebastian clears his throat, trying to get their conversation back on the rails before he ruins the evening completely. “My day was okay. It was fine.” He shakes his head, pressing his fingers briefly to his eyes. “That was a lie. It was terrible, as usual. I don’t think I need to convince you that having a good day in that building would be a poor reflection of one’s character.”

So much for salvaging the conversation, Tate.

“Anyway, how was your day?”

Jaime pulls the hand towel down from his shoulder and begins wiping at an invisible spot on the counter. “It was fine, thank you.”

Sebastian watches him, trying hard not to scrutinize the pre-packaged reply. His answer is always something of the same tune when Sebastian inquires about his day, never anything less than “fine,” never forthcoming on the details. It’s not the first time it’s sent Sebastian into a bit of a spiral about a concern he’s had from the very beginning: how does Jaime spend his days? Is he happy here? Has Sebastian provided him with enough resources to carve out some semblance of a life here?

He has tried. He has provided him access to the internet and all the movies streaming had to offer, he bought Jaime a reading tablet and granted blanket permission to fill it with as many books as he wants, he has given enthusiastic encouragement for Jaime to go for runs or walks whenever he’d like. It doesn’t feel like enough. He still ends up spending his long days at work wondering if Jaime is at home feeling like a prisoner.

Sebastian pushes the thought away for now.

“Is there anything I can help with?” He asks.

“It’s almost done, actually.” Jaime taps the excess liquid from the wood spoon and lays it on a ceramic dish. “Just needs a few more minutes to simmer. Sorry, I hoped it would be ready by the time you got home.”

Sebastian gives him a look. “You don’t have to cook at all,” he says. “Let alone have it hot and waiting at the table. You’re aware of my microwave burrito phase? My standards are low.”

“I remember.” Jaime assures him. “I don’t mind, though. I like trying new recipes. Ezra lent me a cookbook. I tabbed a few that look interesting. If they look good to you, that is.”

“You have yet to steer me wrong. I’m starting to think it’s impossible for you to cook anything less than a masterpiece.”

The slight stutter in Jaime’s stirring is quick enough that Sebastian can brush it off as his imagination.

“It passes the time,” Jaime says, a bit quieter.

“What?”

“Cooking. Planning the meals, ordering the ingredients. Prep and cook time,” he elaborates. “It’s productive, is all I mean.” Jaime has gone tense, the way he does when he seems to say more than he means to, but he recovers quickly.

The soup is ready shortly after, and dinner is delicious as always, but Sebastian can’t get out of his own head enough to really enjoy it. Jaime’s words—it passes the time—bounce around inside his skull, breaking open all sorts of subtext and confirming all of Sebastian’s fears.

They’re cleaning up afterward, Sebastian scrubbing the dishes while Jaime dries, when a thought that’s been brewing spills out of his mouth.

“Have you ever had any pets?” Sebastian asks, apropos of absolutely nothing. Jaime shoots him a quick side glance without pausing in his work.

“Once,” he says after a beat.

Sebastian knows it’s tricky ground, getting too close to details from Jaime’s past. He knows the rules he is bound by and how closely Jaime tries to follow them, even if sometimes Sebastian thinks he might be getting more and more comfortable with little rebellions. Sebastian is still riding the high from a couple weeks prior when Jaime had gifted him and Ezra the small nugget of truth that he used to play soccer, in his life before the system. What might have been an insignificant detail to anyone else was such a fragile, entrusted thing.

Sebastian doesn’t want to pry, though. He decides to keep his questions more general.

“Do you like animals?”

“Yes.” That answer comes much quicker.

“Would you…” Sebastian pauses, making sure he’s positive about the proposition he is making before he makes it. He is. “Tell me honestly if this isn’t something you’re interested in, and I won’t be offended in the slightest. I was wondering… if that might be something you would be interested in. Having a pet here.”

Jaime takes a minute to answer, like he’s choosing each word carefully. “Would it be solely for my benefit?”

“No,” Sebastian assures him, and it’s not a lie. “It’s something I’ve thought about before, but I don’t have a lot of experience with pets. Zero, to be exact, unless you count a goldfish that lived for under a week when I was seven.” He pauses. “I do worry about you getting lonely, though. Staying here by yourself all the time.”

“I don’t mind being alone.”

“I know. I just wonder if it might be nice to have some company. Something to look after.” Something to bring you comfort. Anything to make you happy here.

A quiet falls over them, interspersed with the sound of running water and dishes clanking around in the sink, and Sebastian starts to think of how to walk this back. Because clearly this is something that gives Jaime pause.

“What about…” Jaime starts, then stops. Sebastian puts down the dish he is working on and looks at him. Jaime meets his eyes for a split second and then averts them again. “Would you keep it, even after I’m gone?”

And shit. Maybe it’s a good thing he put the cup down in the sink, because Sebastian is pretty sure it would have shattered in his hand from the force of his grip. And he realizes, not for the first time, that the longevity of this… arrangement is something they need to talk about. In detail. At length. Soon. But now doesn’t seem like the right time.

“If I brought a living creature into my home,” he starts carefully, “then this would become its home, too. It will be here for the long haul.”

After a long, weighty silence, he sees Jaime nod in his periphery.

“I think I’d like that.”

****

@whumpervescence @shiningstarofwinter @distinctlywhumpthing @whumptywhumpdump @nicolepascaline @anotherbluntpencil @hold-him-down @crystalquartzwhump @maracujatangerine @batfacedliar-yetagain @thecyrulik @pumpkin-spice-whump @finder-of-rings @melancholy-in-the-morning @insaneinthepaingame @skyhawkwolf @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @mylifeisonthebookshelf @dont-touch-my-soup @whump-world @inpainandsuffering @cicatrix-energy @quietly-by-myself @whumpsday @extemporary-whump @the-whumpers-grimm @thebirdsofgay @firewheeesky @whumperfully @hold-back-on-the-comfort @termsnconditions-apply @cyborg0109 @whumplr-reader @pinkraindropsfell @whatwhumpcomments @honeycollectswhump @pirefyrelight @handsinmotion @alexmundaythrufriday @scoundrelwithboba

#do no harm: jaime & sebastian #whump #whumplr #whump writing #bbu #like bbu adjacent?

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devouringbodies · 11 months

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Hiiii I was wondering if you have a fic rec list 👉🏻👈🏻

Omg hi!!! I just went through my bookmarks and found some of my favorites!! Literally I had the hardest time narrowing down, I've got so many I love, also some I can't remember the Exact plot of that I'm sure I absolutely love and have just forgotten. So I definitely have more up my sleeve if anyone wants more. Head the tags for some of these.

The Enticement of Suffering by jonnimir - latest fic I just read, gory and sexy wound fucking coda to dolce. if you're into that it's SO GOOD

Not Quite Charity by @stranded-labyrinth - au first meeting between Will and Hannibal, hannibal leaves his car in a run down area of Baltimore and will, who's homeless, heckles him about it and Hannibal decides to pay him to watch it for him. I love this will sm!! It's a really interesting look at their dynamic, and is super in character and just a fun au study!!

Perda de memória by bleakmidwinter - amnesia!hannibal post fall fic. I'm actually a sucker for amnesia aus and love the angst in this. It adds an element to Will's struggle and decision making that makes his mindset post fall all the more interesting. And I love how much hannibal is still hannibal despite not remembering hardly anything.

Everything casts a shadow by @ghostforwhat - i looooove season 2 Will killing more people. I can't ever get enough of it. It's written so well and believably here, and the way it changes the course of the season is super fascinating. Currently a wip.

Wolf and I by t_pock - so so sooo fucking good. One of my favorites. It also has a Podfic as well and I love Podfics soo much and relisten to it often. Season 1 au that has more elements of horror, creepiness, symbolism and hands down the best, hottest, wildest forest chase sequence I've ever read. This fic feels more like a folk or fairy tale it's so good, especially paired with the beautiful art the podficer made, as well as the music they paired with the Podfic. Can't recommend this one enough.

A night off the record by barcharonte - season 1 au again, where on the way to Minnesota hannibal and will get snowed in and have to take shelter somewhere. Will is still losing time and hallucinating. Hannibal still tries to take advantage of course. Fun times to be had.

Between ease and foresight by devotional_doldrums - season 1 au (can you tell I like these? Lol) where wills and Hannibal's metaphorical conversations get a little too on the nose and Will finds out. SUPER good hannibal pov, I want to eat parts of this fic the writing is so good, and the author's notes are hilarious.

Sings to me nightly, sings to me brightly by serindrana - psychic connection phone sex what more could you want!!

The joy of creation by fkahersweetness - super dark mute!will post fall. I wouldn't say I think this is Actually how a post fall dynamic would be but in the universe of this fic it's so so sooo amazing. I love the surreality and implied shared visions/psychosis connection that will and Hannibal have here. Also the ending layed me tf out for days.

Radon and its daughters by @chaparral-crown - best most believable and realistic abo au ever. Nuff said.

Speaking of abo the one where Will smells like blood to hannibal, so good. I'll probably survive this by saintsavage

Pochée by ellopoppet - season 1 au! Also with a Podfic, Will's away on a case but is still getting closer to hannibal through texts and calls.

Mon chéri by sandyquinn - cracky Addams family au esque one shot. Just super cute and silly. I'm picky about my cute and silly but the Addams family morbidity fits comedy hannigram to a T.

Never let it starve by northern - another Will finds out in season 1, I truly can't get enough of these. Also bonus bug boy will!!!

Let the river rush in by several - Explores an actual psychic connection between the boys, again I'm a huge fan of this trope.

Hyacinth house by bluesyturtle - MY BELOVED!!!! One of my top top faves, season 1 au, cool cases, great relationship dynamic between the boys, and im obsessed with how this fic portrays Will's empathy and how it plays with his gender a bit. Love the story, love the ending. Also with Podfic!

Pattern break by thisbeautifuldrowning - dark Will au season 2 where he doesn't plot with Jack or go back to the fbi and deals with Hannibal himself. LOVE how this one plays out.

Bloodline by xzombiezkittenx - VAMPIRE AU MY LOVEEEEE this fic is an utter joy if you like vamp aus. The world building is great.

A consequence of consumption by ironlotus - straight up hands down my favorite fic in the fandom I think. It's still a wip, but it's one of the best characterizations, writing, plot, and just perfect outstanding everything I've seen in this fandom. It's an au where before all the events of season 1, Will is kidnapped by Eldon stamments and is kept alive and rescued eventually. It's peak "Will's milkshake brings all the serial killers to the yard" trope and the way everything is woven together, the storylines and character motivations, is just crazy good. Also one of my most favorite hannibal pov and characterizations out there.

Ok that was still a lot, I'm sorry if I missed tagging anyone, and hopefully the links all work!

#hannigram #hannibal #hannibal fic rec #hannigram fic rec #will graham #hannibal lecter #that took forever I'm sorry if there are mistakes!!#asks #fic recs #🪰

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horseshoegirl · 10 months

Text

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 15 - Have You Ever Seen The Rain

📖I need to make two apologies. First, I am so sorry for the long delay. While work was beating my ass, I actually received a rude comment on my Wattpad account for the last chapter that triggered a horrible writer's block. It was taken care of, and it didn't bother me at the time, but I didn't realize how much it affected me until I started to write. Then I decided to use it for inspiration!

Secondly, I'm so sorry for what is about to unfold. This one was planned from the get-go (which is also probably why I struggled because this is the one chapter I dreaded having to write).

(I'll be running from the pitchforks as they come, Woot Woot!)

❗️+18, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, Mentions of an original child, Shitty family dynamics, Angst, verbal fights, sexist implications, one slap across the face, and Jake being Hangman.

#6k words

Part 14 | Masterlist | Part 16

The story behind how you started ego-checking some of the cocksure pilots at Hard Deck is less interesting than one might think.

It all started with a game.

You weren't kidding when you told Jake you were a library, loving geek who'd rather spend her time deep in the stacks. That was the plot of your entire post-secondary experience. You didn't know how to flirt. You stayed clear of frat parties and cliquey groups. And if a guy tried to flirt with you, you ran for the freaking hills without a backward glance.

You only decided to take that bartending job in building H's damp, dark basement because you were dead-ass broke. But the thing about being a bartender on a University campus, there were moments when you had nothing but time on your hands.

You had to get creative.

Looking back, you would blame the writer-orientated part of your mind that decided to create that little game of making up stories for the people who regularly visited the miserable bar.

The quiet girl, always sitting in the back corner, cramming for a test or writing a paper. Did she like the ambience, or was she avoiding the library? Or was she trying to work up the nerve to ask out one of the bussers, waiting for the perfect meet cute?

Maybe the nerds who gathered every Friday at the arcade-style game consoles playing Pac-Man needed to leave their dorm because Friday nights tended to be the one night everyone liked to party.

Those popular girls sitting around a table with their $5 cocktails, lowcut tanktops, and jean shorts, always on their phones gossiping over the latest social media post from their favourite celebrities. Did they have Regina George in their ranks? Which one was sleeping with the other's boyfriend? How much blackmail did they have on each other?

Which one would murder the other first?

That little game you invented for yourself got you out of your shell. It also made it easier to deal with the persistent football jocks who'd try to flirt with you for a free shot.

Ridley would always get a kick out of it whenever you told her. You'd always imagined her curling up in a ball and kicking her feet back and forth while she squealed in laughter over the phone.

"Be a character in one of your freaking stories. Or better yet, act it out! You're a damn writer, Lizzie."

She was right. So you did.

You'd never forget the laughter of that football jock when your rejection of his flirting attempts to weasel a free drink out of you resulted in his childish reply of, "Well, nobody's perfect, Sweetheart, least of all you."

"I never said I was," you had said with a smile.

You must have said something right because a few minutes later, Penny was introducing herself and chatting you up, asking if you wanted a better job bartending.

You were all too happy to leave. But nothing could have prepared you for the hotshot, ego-driven, and stupidly horny Top Gun pilots who frequented the Hard Deck.

Between remembering their drink order or what side of the room they tended to gravitate towards, you needed more than your little guessing game to figure out their tells. You did pick up little things about them, though.

The WSOs were the kindest; ironically, they stood out in the crowds. Always a kind smile, never a bad thing to say about anyone.

The female pilots were always badass. At least, you thought so. Strong. Always commandeering the room the second they walked in. Always nice, no question about it. But mess with them; you got schooled hard.

They were the literal definition behind the saying, 'Do no harm, but take no shit.'

And with each new group that came in, the male pilots, the single flyers you had called them, paled compared to those jocks. They never changed. A pair constantly vied for first place with each new group that came through the Top Gun program.

Always a pair of males. Women always knew there was more at stake than a freaking trophy.

Those guys talked to you. Well... properly flirted at you.

That's where your little game came in handy. Picking out the little things about them, letting your mind do the creative parts next. It's how you turned Jake down so quickly that first time.

But the guy currently approaching the bar? He did not fit the bill of any regular customer you had seen in a while.

Tourists came and went without question. They stood out like a pack of flies, unsure where to go, with friendly faces and always asking what the best places were. They tipped great, and they never returned.

This guy?

Not a tourist.

He was from out of town. The plaid shirt, jeans and cowboy boots were unusual for a California bar. It was also how he gaped at the walls and ceiling, taking in all the Navy memorabilia Penny had collected over the years. If you hadn't been paying attention, you could have sworn there was a look of distaste on his face with each new item he saw.

But what irked you was the sense of familiarity you couldn't place while looking at him. Blonde hair and a sharp face. Something in how he carried that toothpick between his teeth, not in the way god forbid fucking Tyler had, but as if it was a piece of grass. Also, in the way he walked.

Then he openly leered at a woman's ass as she walked by, and it all made sense.

Ah, a Wham, Bam, Thank You, Mam.

He sat in the empty chair directly in front of you, still watching the women's retreating form. You didn't want to serve him, but a tiny part of you hoped your assumption had been wrong.

It had been a while since you had to rebuff flirty advances; the newer pilots going through the Top Gun Program hardly said anything to you except smile and relay their order.

You suspected Jake was behind it.

"What can I get you?" you smiled at the guy. He slowly pulled his eyes away with a sly grin. The second he caught sight of your face, his mouth stretched even wider as he leaned forward on the bar.

"Your number and the name of a good hotel."

You should have known better.

If it looked like a duck, it quacked like a duck too.

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you straightened the line of shot glasses under the bar, not once looking up as you answered him. "Well, I can answer one out of two of those questions, but I'm afraid the only hotels around here are resorts. There is a bed and breakfast about ten minutes down the road that will give you a good deal."

"Will they give me a good deal if I mention your name?"

"Only my friends know my name, and you are simply a customer sitting at my bar wanting a drink?" you raised your eyebrow, tapping your finger against the bar.

He made a show of thinking about it, rocking his shoulders back and forth. He finally nodded, leaning forward to answer you.

"Whiskey. Straight."

You recognized his accent as you reached beneath the bar to grab the bottle. It was more pronounced and slightly more profound, but without a doubt, he sounded like Jake.

Good old southern Texas Charm.

Normally you'd engage in small talk, but you wanted nothing more than to leave this asshole alone. Thinking he'd leave it be after you poured him his drink, you slid the glass forward, then made your way over to the other side of the bar.

The words he called out after you made you stop in your tracks.

"You must get attention all the time. Having your pick of the litter each year."

You whipped around, offended. " Are you calling me easy?!"

He shrugged. "I'm just saying a good-looking woman like yourself, in this place... you clearly aren't sticking around because of the pay."

Oh, you wanted this guy gone. That could have been one of the most double-standard comments you had ever received. Old Liz would have sputtered, maybe run into the back fridge and asked one of the other bartenders to handle it.

You now? No chance in hell. If he were going to give it, you would give it right back. You weren't going to play the boyfriend card. You could fight your own battles, and something told you even if you told him you had a boyfriend, he'd think you were lying. He seemed like the type that wouldn't take no for an answer.

"You've got some nerve." You crossed your arms, matching back to him from the other side of the bar. "Let's get one thing straight. I'm not here because I'm looking for attention or have trouble finding a date. You've spent all of two minutes sitting at this bar, talking shit, while I've been fighting the urge to point out your confusion regarding basic anatomy."

He raised his eyebrows at your reply. "My confusion?"

You leaned forward, resting your arms upon the bar, eyeing him sourly. "Is your mouth your asshole, or are you just one?"

It was one of the more cruder remarks you had ever responded with. But this guy was trying to go for gold. Unphased, he leaned back in his chair, throwing his hands up. "Hey, no need to be aggressive. You should take it as a compliment. I never called you anything derogatory."

You huffed, pushing yourself away from him, rolling your eyes. "Calling me good-looking, then proceeding to say I'm only working here because it's 'easy to access' is still calling a woman a slut. You don't need to say the word to imply the meaning."

You ripped the dishrag from your shoulder, running it under the tap, muttering more to yourself, "There's no way that shit works on women."

"It does on the women back home," he answered you.

"Oh, so are you staying? Don't tell me you're a new pilot at Top Gun."

They'll beat that attitude right out of you.

"Oh, I'm just passing through. I figured I'd scout out the area. I heard this was a Navy bar. Don't understand what all the fuss is about."

You didn't answer him. Opening your mouth only led to him replying, and the quicker he finished his drink, the faster he'd leave. He took your silence as a means to continue.

"Still playing hard to get?"

"You ask me a question. I might choose not to answer."

"Wow. Subtle."

You turned, a hand on your hip. "You can't honestly expect me to speak to you, a complete stranger, after the way you just undermined my job because I'm not giving to your attempts. There is nothing to get."

He smiled, holding out his hand. "George Seresin. There, not a stranger."

Well, shit.

You wanted to hang your mouth open like a fish. You were staring down Jake's brother.

Now you understood Jake's reaction to Janet's warning. His anxious behaviour in the back of his truck. His lost-in-thought stares or the way he couldn't stop looking at you and Sadie when he came home from work this week.

George Seresin was a very unwelcome, uninvited and long-awaited guest.

Something snapped in your stomach, a twinge of weariness that Jake didn't confide in you. Then again, your slight disappointment was overshadowed by something greater.

Clearly, you were fated to ego-check both Seresin brothers while standing behind this bar. Because the idea came without warning, without doubt, or any sense of hesitancy.

George Seresin was at the Hard Deck.

He was right in front of you, trying to flirt with you without any idea who you were.

And he was sitting in the best spot in the entire place.

It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

You stepped backwards, turning to lean up against the bar. As you did with Jake all those months ago, you took the rag and started to wipe.

"So let me get this straight," you said, dragging the damp cloth around his glass, not once looking up. "I tell you my name in some effort to prove we are not strangers. I'm supposed to forget about your 'comments,' so you can use that good old Texas charm to woo me into your bed with a promise of a good time?"

You finally looked up, George only staring back at you with a heated smoulder.

"Something tells me none of those loose cannons cannot even promise you a good time. A quick roll in the sheets before they let some brass monkey in a fancy suit tell them where to shoot. You look like you could let loose for once in your life."

You froze, losing your grip on the rag and fingers twitching. Scanning Jake’s brother, you leaned against the bar, resting your weight on your elbows, throwing the fabric over your shoulder as you got inside his bubble. You never once broke eye contact as you pinned him down.

George bought it, hook, line and sinker. He was so focused on you and your face that he was oblivious to everything and everyone around him, including how your hand slowly reached up toward the rope hanging from the top of the bar.

The second he looked at your lips, you tugged.

Cheers and music flooded the Hard Deck when everyone heard the distinct ring of the barbell. You guessed the song right away, old habits dying hard. Slow Ride, its distinct beat letting you know Jake was here and he had seen the whole thing.

George reeled back, shocked as a few people came up and slapped him on the back, thanking him. You laughed softly at his reaction, pushing yourself away to help the few customers you knew who would take advantage of the free drink.

You had never rang the bell for someone like him. George Seresin would be the only exception.

"What the hell just happened?" he called after you. You didn't bother turning around, flinging your hand to gesture over your head, "Read the sign!"

George followed the direction of your hand, landing on the piece of wood dangling by the silver chain.

You disrespect a lady, the navy, or you put your cell phone on the bar, you buy a round.

You had already helped a few customers when he managed to tear his eyes away to glare at you heatedly. You turned to face him with a gleeful grin. Instead of asking him which one he thought you rang him out for, you started teasingly singing along to the chorus.

You hadn't done that in a while. It felt good.

"What did he do to warrant that?"

You smiled up at Jake as he approached the bar. He never took his eyes off you as he leaned on his elbow against the top of the bar beside George.

"What do you think?" you laughed at him.

Jake smirked. "I'd say he didn't take no for an answer."

"He did a little more than that. Tell him to put his cell phone on the bar, and he'd get three out of three."

"Ouch," Jake dramatically drawled. He finally turned his head, nodding once in his brother's direction. "Hi, Georgie."

You stiffed a giggle.

George huffed, jutting his chin out in your direction. "This one is trouble."

"Don't I know it," Jake said, looking back at you. "Pulled the same trick on me the first time I met her. Only she didn't ring the bell. Guess I did something right, considering she let me come back."

George glanced between you and Jake several times, and you could see the gears grinding in his head.

"Hi," you beamed at him, walking over and holding out your hand. "Elizabeth Beck. Your brother's girlfriend. I guess we aren't strangers after all."

George stared down at your hand, then gritting his teeth, knocking back another gulp of whiskey. He spat out his following words with the glass still to his lips, "So you are real. Jake, there's no way you're dating her."

You didn't try to hide the snark from your voice as you lowered your hand. "You thought I was imaginary? Sorry to disappoint."

George still chose to ignore you. "What's the matter, little brother? Need your girlfriend to speak for you?"

Jake stiffened, and it took everything in you not to ring the bell once more. Cause you knew if you did, Jake would be the one to help throw George out, and you didn't know what repercussions he could face.

"At least he has a girlfriend," you scoffed. "I can't imagine you've ever had a meaningful relationship with how you treat women."

You spied his empty whiskey glass, grabbing it firmly.

"Wham."

Sliding it across the bar's smooth surface, you caught it in the palm of your other hand.

"Bam."

Reaching into the pocket of your apron with your free hand, you slapped his bill down in front of him, rounds and all, attempting your best version of a Texan accent.

"Thank you, Mam."

Not wanting to waste more time on him, you turned to Jake, slightly worried. Some of you didn't know how to act around Jake when he was like this. When he was so... Hangman.

You gently touched his wrist, murmuring softly, "I'll see you in a half hour?"

He twisted his arm in your grasp, sliding his hand down so he could gently squeeze yours. But his eyes screamed a different, intense, unsettling story. As if he was assessing you for any threat.

"Sure."

You tried not to let it bother you, his non-chalent reply. Trying not to frown, you let go of his wrist to serve another customer, calling out as you walked away, "It was nice meeting you, Georgie!"

Jake watched you go with a slight turn of his head, proud you one-upped his brother but wishing you didn't leave him alone.

He knew why George was here. What he wanted him to do. No amount of smirk, cockiness, or even Hangman, could save Jake from this. George was the grave reminder that no matter where the Navy sent him, whether in California or on the other side of the world, there was no end to the metaphorical leash the 'hell bringer' had on both of his sons.

George scraped his chair back to stand. "Come on, little brother," he gruffed out, tossing his credit card onto the bar. "We need to have a chat."

—-

With Ridley's Jean jacket in hand and your bag, you placed them on the bar as you greeted Jimmy after finishing your shift. "Can you watch these for a second, Jimmy? I'm just going to the bathroom before I find Jake. We're going to pick Sadie up from Penny's and take her out for dinner."

The older man smiled. "She's feeling better?"

You nodded. "Mild concussion. She was okay after a few days and back at school. Bummed about not being able to play in soccer playoffs, though. Hence the trip."

"That girl loves her soccer. What a shame."

"Jake's is making it easier on her. I don't know what I would do without him."

He tilted his head towards the bathroom hall with a knowing grin. "Go get ready for your date."

You blushed, walking away, calling over your shoulder, "It's not a date!"

After freshening yourself up, you took a few moments to stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror. You saw the famous callsign board hanging on the wall behind you. You scanned the names from the mirror, looking for Jake's, doing a double take when you couldn’t find it. You turned, properly facing the wall.

Like the sign in the bar, it was a piece of wood with the words engraved into the top, “Ladies Beware: Navigate the Hard Deck with Care!” and underneath that, “Pilots who fly solo.” Several metal slots were glued to the surface, designed so she could easily slide plastic slate with a pilot’s callsign into place.

You recognized a few, even Rooster's, though his was listed way further down, out of harm’s way. But Jake's was nowhere to be found.

Then you realized - Penny had taken his name off.

She didn't do that for a lot of people. You could only recall one other instance when she removed a pilot's callsign from that board. She prided herself on it, so much so she never removed Maverick's at the top of the list, even after they got back together.

You needed to tell Jake.

With a hint of a smile, you eagerly walked out of the bathroom to find him. He was standing with George at the pool table, the elder Seresin brother lining up a shot as he spoke. As you approached them, you honed in on Jake, realizing he looked uncomfortable. Stiff, shoulders square, and his fists were clenched tight.

The closer you got, the more you heard of their conversation, and when you heard Sadie's name fall from George's mouth, you froze. Hearing him utter her name, especially in that hardened tone, was a punch to the gut. The urge to hide behind one of the support pillars in the middle of the room at the last second was too great to ignore, and you made yourself as small as possible.

You had stumbled upon a conversation you weren’t supposed to hear. George’s voice accompanied the sound of the eight-ball scattering the balls across the table.

"Come on, man," he said, his tone laced with arrogance. "Think about it. She threw her whole life away for her niece. She's tied down now, and you deserve someone who can give you more than that."

Jake remained silent. George continued, encouraged by his lack of protest. "You're a Navy pilot, for crying out loud. You could have anyone you want. Why settle for a girl with so much baggage?"

You weren’t stupid. You knew enough about George to realize he was the golden child, the favourite used to getting his way. George would only see you as Jake’s attempt to one-up him on something.

“You know why I'm here,” you heard him say firmly. “Dad doesn’t approve. He wants you to know if you continue on with her, you will never be welcomed back home.”

You swallowed hard, a knot forming in your stomach. There would never be a time when you asked Jake to choose you over his family, even with what you knew. You wanted to go out there, but this was Jake’s battle. Storming out to threaten anything but a kick to the balls was out of the question.

But when Jake finally spoke, his words were like shards of ice piercing your skin.

"Yeah, you're right."

A strangled noise escaped from you, a sound of raw pain and disbelief. You clapped your hands over your mouth, trying to muffle the sob threatening to escape. George’s reply triggered the blood rushing through your ears, the pain in your forearm from your nails biting hard into the skin.

“You know I am,” he laughed, another clack of the pool balls sounding out. “

There was only one way you saw this - Jake played you like he played those other bartenders.

You couldn’t hide any longer. You pushed yourself away from the pillar, swerving around to confront them.

“So Sadie and I were just a game to you?”

Jake turned sharply, shock in his eyes. “Liz,” he held his hands out in front of him. “It’s not what…”

“Not what?” you said heatedly, tears streaming from your eyes. “I heard plenty!”

He opened his mouth to say something, but the words died in his throat, confronted with your beat red face and tears. You were not supposed to hear all that.

The shock on his face was not enough to erase the sting of his words.

"Come on, Liz. You don't understand... it's..."

"What's there to understand, Jake?" you interjected, your voice seething with a volatile mix of pain and anger. "That I'm just another one of your bartenders?"

“Liz, don’t.”

“Enlighten me, Jake.” You crossed your arms. “Tell me all the reasons why. That bringing me flowers wasn’t a game. That getting close to my niece wasn’t a game. Asking me to give you a chance, taking me out on a date.”

You sobbed. “Taking me up in that damn plane.”

The thought was erupt, tearing itself from the deepest part of your mind. You couldn’t help it, the words spilling out in blinded anger. “Was my grief an opportunity for you to get into my pants? Telling me it would be alright so you could leave me high and dry? Telling me it was going to be okay?”

There was a sudden shift in his expression, his gaze hardening. As if a switch had been flipped, the warm, understanding man you knew disappeared, replaced by a stranger draped in defensiveness and sarcasm.

"Oh, excuse me," he declared. "I didn't realize I was your knight in shining armour, rushing to your rescue the second you need all your problems fixed. The girl who never had a relationship, thinking a man would solve all her issues."

The words hit you like a physical blow, your knees nearly buckling beneath you. Jake's harsh gaze didn't match his usual soft and protective demeanour. It was like looking at a stranger, someone you didn't recognize. The man before you was not the Jake you'd fallen for.

This man reminded you of your father.

Was this his plan all along? You racked your mind, searching for any indication this had been coming. But what only stood out was Rooster's words echoing in your head where you found none.

Did you really only add your name to the list of women Hangman had pursued?

Because here and now, those months of working through the trauma of losing Ridley didn't matter.

Was anything about this past year even worth it? The moments you worked through when you would avoid anyone mentioning her because acknowledging her in the past tense was too much. Avoiding the things that reminded you of her. Till helped you through it.

She would know what to say right now. She would be the one beating his ass with verbiage and scathing remarks. She would nail the moment and get it right.

It hit you, the hidden weight of how desperately you missed her.

Suddenly, you were that girl again, starting her first shift in that basement bar, wondering what to say to the students who saw you as a mere bookworm with no character or class - because you couldn't compare to the girl sitting in the corner writing her paper, actually having the courage to ask that busboy out.

Or the geeks in the corner cheering as hard as they did when they beat their high score on the console, uncaring of strange looks. Or that girl, finally standing up to her 'so-called friends' when one had been spreading rumours and crude remarks about her to the others behind her back.

He really did leave you out to dry.

"Stay the fuck away from my niece," you managed to gasp through your tears. "And stay the fuck away from me."

You wanted to believe your assumption that Jake was merely putting on a front. Hangman, his alternate self, was his attempt at protecting himself.

You had a hard time doing so.

There, plain as day, across his face was the most condensing grin you had ever seen as he dramatically drawled out slowly, "No fucking problem, sweetheart."

You didn't believe in thinking about everything you regretted throughout your life. Ridley was the only exception; if you had done more, moved back home after school, or gone to the police the day you kicked Tyler out, maybe she'd still be here. You couldn't change what had happened in your life, so spending time thinking about it in the present wouldn't do you much good.

So it was no surprise to you when you followed through with your knee-deep reaction, your hand coming up out of nowhere, open and firm, slapping Jake hard enough across the side of his face, his head turning with the force of it.

You knew you shouldn't have. You weren't a violent person by any means. Next to Tyler, you never had raised a hand to anyone. You were too hurt to care you just slapped him.

That should have scared you shitless.

Rather than voice the obvious, you remained silent, allowing every repressed thought, every buried emotion to resurface.

Ridley - dead.

Sadie - hurt.

Tyler - lurking.

Bradley - damaging.

It was all too much.

George's figure stood out from behind Jake amongst your blurry vision, tears creating a vignette in your line of sight. You tore past Jake, sticking your finger out only to push George square in his chest. He stepped back at the force, hand shooting out to balance himself against the pool table.

Jake wouldn't have done that had George not shown up. Had he not played with Jake's emotions.

"You need a fucking ego check and to grow the fuck up," you seethed at him. "I don't know whose got your balls on a very tight leash, but you have no right to go around and fucking up other people's relationships."

George didn't answer you, taking his hand off the table to stand properly. You pressed him again. "Does it give you some sick fucking pleasure to hurt your brother? Dad loves me best, so I'm going to remind everyone just cause I can?"

George was still avoiding your heated glare, fixating on his football ring, twisting the piece of metal back and forth. It only pissed you off further.

"My eyes are over here, Jackass! Have the decency to look me in the fucking eyes when I'm talking to you."

If nobody had been watching when you slapped Jake, you clearly had their attention now. Even with the music blasting from the speakers, every conversation in the Hard deck had gone quiet. You could feel everyone's eyes on you, but you couldn't care less.

You were too far gone.

George slowly cocked his head to face you. Your breath was harsh, your body jolting with each gasp as you gave in to the anger. "My sister died, and I took in my niece. What's so fucking wrong about that? That I threw my life away, that I have no future?"

He shifted on his feet, about to transfer the pool stick into his other hand, when you reached out and snatched it out of his grasp, tossing it behind you with a clack.

"You're damn right I did! That's what you do for people you love. I would sacrifice my entire life so she could have hers. And I would do it again in a fucking heartbeat. I will stay on the other side of that bar for the rest of my so-called miserable life, getting catcalled and dealing with assholes like you if it gives her the best shot with the shitty hand she's dealt. You, George Seresin, have no right to judge the choices I've made in my life."

Your breathing was harsh, ribs aching with effort. Every vein, every pore, was consumed with pure white rage. And yet, you still found yourself growling out, "You have no right judging your brothers either."

Even after breaking your heart, you still stood up for Jake.

"He risks his life every single time he goes up in that jet just so the whole world can fucking survive. So you can go on day in and day out and let your father control what you want to do with your life. So you can gallant around letting someone who has lived their life decide what you do with the rest of yours? So Jake’s here for you to bully and control every time he comes home? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The burning sensation in your cheeks mirrored the fire in your eyes, unshed tears making them shine brighter. The salty sting of tears blurring your vision did little to diminish the searing gaze you levelled at George.

"My sister believed everyone deserved a chance. That people cared, regardless of what they did or who they were. I had forgotten that until my niece invited Jake to a barbeque, till she invited him on a hike because he was being treated differently. Despite what I heard and everyone telling me otherwise, listing off why I shouldn’t. That he will hurt me and my niece, and I still gave him a chance.”

Squaring your shoulders and balling your hands to fists at your side, you take a step forward, a dangerous glint in your eyes. You lean towards him, your face close enough to feel his breath, your jaw clenched and muscles tight.

"You are the first person ever to prove my sister wrong,” your voice is dangerously low, underlying anger accompanying each word. “You sure as hell don't deserve that sentiment."

As you stepped away, George lifted his head to glance around the room, everyone's eyes pinning him down. The older Top Gun instructors had stood at their tables and chairs, arms crossed. Some of the current students in the program also stood, the others sending him the most scathing glares they could manage. Even some regulars who weren't aviators were casting him a scornful glance.

You spun, ready to leave him in embarrassment and escape this literal fucking mess, when you caught Jake's bewildered gaze, his mouth hanging open in slight shock.

You weren't sure whether it was that look or the dying embers of your outburst that made you spin back around to snarl, "So, leave your brother the fuck alone! Live your own goddamn life without judging others for the choices they make! Cause you sure as hell don't know what it means to sacrifice something for those you love. If you need an example, look around this goddamn room."

Jake reached for your wrist as you charged toward the front door. The second you felt his touch, you shook your hand loose, a wrenching sob tearing through your chest.

"Don't fucking touch me!"

You didn't bother seeing his reaction to your remark, rushing to grab your bag and Ridley's jean jacket off the bar.

The skin around your wrist burned from his touch, the rough callouses once a comfort but now felt like coarse sandpaper. You wanted to get under a shower or jump in the sea, hoping to remove the feeling of every memory, kiss, and word.

God, you let him touch you. Do things with you.

You were going to throw up.

God forbid you didn't want to walk home. But you needed to go, be anywhere but here, and you didn't have your car. Barely keeping it together as you took off toward the door, you had half a mind to look up to watch where you were going, deaf to Jake's shouts of your name.

There was Bradley, sitting in the first booth by the door. His brow furrowed as you made your way over to him, probably having witnessed the ordeal. You were too upset even to question why he wasn't marching across the bar, ready to knock Jake to next Sunday.

It had been weeks since the fight, with no communication in between. But it was a distant memory compared to this.

It didn't matter what he implied. It didn't matter what happened in your hallway.

It didn't matter.

You just needed your friend.

With each step you took toward him, your shame only grew greater. You couldn't even look him in the eye when you stopped, standing next to his side of the booth, hugging yourself tighter.

"Can you take me home, Bradley? I don't want to be here anymore."

Bradley's opportunity to act smug had finally arrived. But he didn't do anything other than frown. Standing up from his booth, he threw a few bills onto the table before blocking everyone's view of you. He placed a comforting hand on your back, gently pressing you forward as he uttered quietly, "Of course I can, Liz."

You kept your head down as you stepped towards the door, but Bradley, so willing to help you without so much of an 'I told you so,' made whatever resolve you had, crumble. Your knees wobbled, and your heart dropped into your stomach. You fell, and Bradley's arm whipped out, gripping your hip and pulling you tight to his side to support your weight.

Burying your head into Bradley's shoulder, you hid your face. You didn't want to see the looks of everyone in the Hard Deck, whether pity, concern, or applause, as another wave of tears wrecked your body.

Closing your eyes seemed better than reliving the truth.

And because you kept them shut, you didn't see George place a hand on Jake's shoulder, preventing him from going after you. Nor did you see the look of devastation wreck his face; the weight of every wrong decision he had ever made coming back to haunt him.

Whether Jake turned on a dime to punch George square in the jaw, you heard none of it. You hadn't even bothered to turn back to look as Bradley carried you out the front door.

.... So... Who is going to pitchfork me first? 👀

Tag List:

@blue-aconite @tinytotontheoversizedpony @djs8891 @caitsymichelle13 @startrekfangirl2233

@mayhemmanaged @ereardon @dempy @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @daggerspare-standingby

@phantomxoxo @formulapierre @eli2447 @fulla02 @blckgrl-sunflower @mizzzpink @ohgodnotagainn

@bubblegumbeautyqueen @sarahsmi13s @desert-fern @lynnestra44 @memoriesat30 @penwieldingdreamer @mxlanciia

@bradleybeachbabe @bobby-r2d2-floyd @lavenderbradshaw @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars @dakotakazansky

@keyrani @craftytrashprincess @hisredheadedgoddess28 @abzidabzy @memeorydotcom @vicsnook

Part 16 - In the Blood coming soon

Wickett ;)

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rhoorl · 5 months

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A Bear of a Night | Pickled Peña Writing Challenge

Summary: Javi returns home from ringing in the New Year and finds a surprise. He’s getting too old for this shit. (AO3 Link)

Rating: M

Word Count: 920

Warnings: This is honestly a pretty tame story, just some swearing and allusions to smut. Hopefully a bit funny too.

A/N: Happy 2024! I decided to take part in the Pickled Peña writing challenge. What is this? Well, it’s a way to show off the different ways writers can tackle the same character/prompt - we all have our own style and perspectives! Javi is one of my favorites to read and I never thought I would actually write for him. But, here we are. Check out @pickled-pena or search the tags to see who else is participating and what they’ve come up with. If this sounds like fun and something you want to try, feel free to post your own fic throughout the month of January!

Javier parked the car and rested his head against the headrest as his eyes cast down to the clock in his truck.

1:45 a.m.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself. He was late and knew he was about to get the silent treatment.

Javier wasn't one for big celebrations with lots of people, always choosing to duck out of any department party as early as possible. But when several colleagues decided to spend New Year's Eve out at a bar, he thought why not? It was an early jump on his resolution for the upcoming year. It was simple really. He just wanted to try. To try and open up more. To try and let someone in. To try and be present.

And tonight, he actually found himself having some fun. The latest newbies to the department reminded him of when he first started decades ago. Young, idealistic, and ready to do some good. He tried to not let his jaded side influence them too much, but his colleagues found it amusing to mess with him nonetheless.

But the “old man” still had it and managed to pull the glances of several women at the bar, including the bartender who had practically eye fucked him all night as she poured him drinks (which she didn’t charge him for). That's part of the reason why he lost track of time. She decided to spend her break with him in a bathroom. He rang in the new year partaking in one of his favorite activities – buried deep inside a woman, making her scream his name.

Back in his car, he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands and sighed. He knew he was about to be read the riot act. All he wanted to do was go to sleep, already knowing he was primed for a terrible hangover come the morning, or at least later that morning.

He trudged up his driveway and unlocked the door. The TV was still on, but faint. Tossing his keys onto his entryway table, he stilled, waiting. He didn't hear anything, so he kicked off his boots and continued padding down the hallway.

“B?” He called out, walking into the living room. “Hmm, where'd you go,” he muttered to himself.

He continued through the house towards the kitchen when he felt it. His socks wet as he saw the pool at his feet.

“Goddammit,” he gritted his teeth. “Fuck, really?!”

And that's when he heard the jingle and padding of feet coming down the hall.

“Seriously?” Javier caught the eyes of his English bulldog, Bear, who walked in and sulked in the corner with an even more grumpy look than normal.

Javier adopted Bear when he was just a puppy thanks to the incessant encouragement of Steve. His former partner could hear how lonely Javier was over the phone, so he suggested a dog could help keep him company. Little did both of them know, Javier would end up with a dog who was basically him with four legs. Bear was a bit of a curmudgeon but once you cracked him, he was very affectionate and loyal.

Although initially resistant, dog ownership came naturally to Javier. Growing up on a farm, he knew how to care for animals and he had a soft spot for them. Bear forced Javier to focus and take care of something. And although he hated to admit it to Steve, he rather liked having someone to come home to. When Bear heard the jingling of Javier’s keys, he would make his way up the hallway to greet Javier before turning around and heading to his bed at the foot of the couch.

But tonight, Bear was mad. Javier stayed out later than planned so he decided to show his discontent on the linoleum floor in the kitchen.

Javier sighed as he took off his socks and walked to the sink to grab some paper towels and some odor eliminator spray. He returned and got on his hands and knees to start cleaning up. As he sprayed the floor he looked up and saw Bear, sitting on his back paws.

“Don't look at me like that. You stand there and accuse me, but where were you at the time when I asked if you wanted to go out, huh? Oh, I remember. Gnawing on a bone, couldn't be bothered.”

Bear sighed and rested his front paws on the floor, giving Javier a look.

“The puppy dog eyes? Really Bear? Por favor.” Javier rolled his eyes with a huff as he finished cleaning up.

He groaned as he braced himself to get up off the ground. The beginning of a pounding headache was starting to take root.

Even though it was the last thing he wanted to do, and it honestly made his stomach turn a bit, he pulled out a jar of pickles from the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of Old Forester Statesman Bourbon from the counter along with two shot glasses.

“I’m already going to have a hangover, what’s one more,” Javier said to himself as he poured the bourbon and drained the shot, a slight hiss as he felt the warmth in his throat. “Here’s nothing,” he shuddered as he took down the pickle juice with a grimace. As he put the shot glass he looked down at his feet to see Bear plop down and rest his head on Javier's feet.

He chuckled, the smallest smirk coming across his face. “Happy New Year to you too bud. Let's get to bed.”

A/N: There's my silly little entry in the challenge. Take a look at @pickled-pena or the tags to see other entries. I hope we get to do this again sometime, this was actually a lot of fun to do something totally different and outside of my comfort zone.

#pickled-peña #pickled-pena #pickledpeña writing challenge #javier peña fic #pickledpeña #community over competition

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dianneking · 4 months

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Happy Birthday, Blondie - Larissa/Melissa

Hello hello! For the first week of Back on The Writing Horse (you can find the original post and masterlist here) I am using prompt 2553 by @promptsforthestrugglingauthor

"Are you going to just spend the day alone?"

"That's what I do most days. It doesn't make a difference to me."

Thank you to @scream-queenlover for picking that prompt out for me and making this lovely cover art to go with the fic, as well as the closing one.

Fandom: Wednesday (2022) and Abott Elementary Characters: Larissa Weems / Melissa Schemmenti Tags: Friendly banter, Dare I say it's fluff? (it's fluff), Food, Mentions of skipping meals. Words: 1497

Happy Birthday, Blondie (link to AO3)

…Kind regards

Larissa Weems, principal of Nevermore Academy.

Larissa sighed in relief after clicking the send button on the latest email. Today had been quite the whirlwind of phone calls, emails and meetings, and it was still only lunchtime, who knew what the afternoon would entail. She closed her eyes, massaging her temples to try and stave off the tension headache she was starting to feel building up. She loved her job, and she loved Nevermore, but there was just something about this sort of days that really took a lot out of her.

The door to her study chose that moment to slam open, noisily hitting the cabinet at the end of its run. “Well, if it isn’t our principal caught dozing off at work!”

There was only one person in Nevermore who had the guts to barge into Larissa’s office unannounced and insult her work ethic at the same time. Larissa refused to give her the satisfaction of opening her eyes.

“What is it, Melissa?”

“Oi! At least look at me when you sigh my name. That’s a privilege not many people have, if you usurp it, I’ll have you move back to using Miss Schemmenti.”

“And we wouldn’t want that.” Larissa deadpanned. But she did crack open her eyes. The fiery head of her coworker was almost too bright in the sunlight that streamed in from the tall windows of her office.

“For sure not today of all days!” The smug grin on Melissa’s face told Larissa that the redhead knew she had won this round. Damn it.

“And what’s so special about today?” Asked Larissa petulantly.

“Are ya kidding me, Blondie?” Melissa looked at her as if she expected some sort of trick from her. Or a smart remark. That was their thing after all. A constant banter, prodding at each other trying to find the right button to push to make the other concede a point in their match of wits.

Larissa liked that. She had been too used to people in awe of her, or too scared of her power (both the political one and the actual shapeshifting) to pose much of a challenge for her. When Melissa joined Nevermore, Larissa had at first balked at what she had perceived as blatant disrespect from the latest addition to staff. But after a while a sort of understanding had formed between the two women, a sort of mutual recognition of kindred spirits (aided by a couple of heart-to-hearts brought along by copious amounts of wine, but they didn’t talk about those too much).

Melissa must have read that she was still missing the point, because she lifted her eyes to the ceiling, as if to ask the heavens to grant her patience, and strode forward to place a cafeteria tray on Larissa’s desk. Larissa blinked at the plates: on one, a heaping portion of lasagna that looked way too good to be standard Nevermore fare, and on the second, bigger plate, a whole chocolate cake, complete with a dripping layer of decadent ganache and a wonky writing that recited: Are you a natural blonde or did you dye for attention?

Larissa tried to avoid drooling at the sight, while her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she had skipped breakfast, again, this morning.

“Happy birthday, Blondie.”

Oh. Was it today? Larissa could’ve sworn today was still Thursday and her birthday wasn’t until…

…her eyes fell on the stylish calendar perched on the side of her desk.

Friday, February 16th.

Whoops.

“You can’t be serious. You had to check the calendar to be sure it was your birthday?”

“No!” Larissa lied quickly. “I just hmm…I wanted to check something, that’s all.”

“Sure, sure, whatever makes you sleep at night. Eat up, you don’t want my lasagna to get cold.”

Larissa picked up the fork. That was Melissa’s cooking. That’s why it looked – and smelled! – so absolutely divine.

“Thank you by the way, you didn’t have to.”

“Oh please. We both know that you skip more lunches than the ones you actually eat. At least on your birthday you should enjoy some good cooking.”

Larissa dipped her fork into the lasagna, inclining it sideways to slice a bite off of it and scooping it up to bring it to her lips. Her eyes fluttered closed in pure bliss as she chewed. It was an explosion of flavors and textures, perfectly balanced and delicious in every aspect. The fullness of the meat, the tangy and yet sweet tomato sauce, the sheets of pasta cooked to perfection, all enveloped by the smooth embrace of the bechamel sauce…it wasn’t just a lasagna, it was a masterpiece.

“Wow.” Was the only word that she could form before she dove back in.

She heard Melissa’s throaty chuckle, and knew without raising her eyes that there was another self-satisfied smile adorning her lips. Well, Larissa could allow her this one. The lasagna was really something else.

They sat in silence for some time while Larissa ate, Melissa having slouched in one of the armchairs in front of Larissa’s desk, as perfectly at ease as if she was in her own living room, before the redhead spoke conversationally.

“You know, I am glad I dropped by at lunch break, so I managed to remind you in time to get ready for whatever you have planned tonight. Not attending your own birthday party would be kinda lame.”

Larissa took her time swallowing the bite before she replied.

“Oh, that’s kind of you, but I don’t have anything planned for tonight. Just a quiet evening in, you know?” Actually, the more this conversation went on, the more Larissa was looking forward to curling up on her couch with a bottle of wine and some good music. Maybe read a bit, too? She almost didn’t remember the plot to the novel she was reading, so long it had been since she last had time to open it. Was that lame? She had just turned 46, she was allowed to wallow a bit and not go out and celebrate if she didn’t feel like it. Right?

“Oh come on. You’re not gonna spend your birthday evening here in your office, are you?”

“Why not? It’s a very nice study, I spent years decorating it just like I want to.”

“Yeah of course. I mean what’s a better birthday companion than a stuffed raven, after all? But seriously, Larissa,” Melissa’s tone turned serious, and the fact that she used her first name instead of a ridiculous nickname signaled that this was not a question Larissa could brush off flippantly, “are you really going to just spend the day alone?"

"That's what I do most days. It doesn't make a difference to me." Larissa shrugged, cleaning the last bit of lasagna sauce off the plate with the side of her fork. She had never been a huge fan of birthdays anyway.

“Absolutely not! I will not allow that.”

“I…beg your pardon?”

“You may beg all you want but you won’t get out of this. Be all ready and dolled up at six this evening. I might not have as many resources here in Vermont but the ex-husband of my second cousin owns the most disreputable dive bar in Williston. We’re going.”

“Melissa, there’s no need to…”

“No no. You misunderstand. This was not a question. You’ll be coming with me to party on your birthday night whether you like it or not, Miss Weems. And you’ll have the time of your life doing so.”

Larissa met her eyes, her bright green eyes looking up at Larissa as if challenging her to disagree, and all it did was make a lovely warmth spread in the taller woman’s chest. She shook her head, an exasperated smile climbing to her lips.

“Alright, alright, you stubborn woman. You win. We’ll go celebrate my old age at your shady bar. But you’re offering the first round.”

“Ha! As if I’d let the birthday lady pay for her own drinks! I’ll have you know that my nonna raised me properly!”

They made eye contact across the desk, blue meeting green with an intensity that was new and warm and exciting. Larissa tried to convey in that gaze how much Melissa’s actions meant to her. Not just the cake and the birthday wishes. Hell, not even the invite to go out together. It was the fact that Melissa was there for Larissa in a way nobody had been in a very long time.

“Thank you, Melissa.” She said, frustrated at herself for being unable to say more, and yet charging those two simple words with all those untold things.

She was able to see the blush crawling up the other woman’s cheeks at her gratitude, and couldn’t help but think how adorable it made Melissa look. Clearly embarrassed, the redhead ran a hand through her locks and spoke in a gruff voice.

“So are you just gonna stare or are you gonna try the cake?”

The End

For anyone wondering, this is loosely in the same universe as my other Larissa/Melissa fic, New Teacher In Town. You can find more of my fics in my masterlist

Next fic in the challenge >

#larissa weems #melissa schemmenti #larissa weems x melissa schemmenti #larissa/melissa #larissa weems fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #crossover fanfiction #abbott elementary #wednesday netflix #gwendoline christie fanfiction #lisa ann walter #lisa ann walter fanfiction #gwendoline christie #dianneking fanfiction #dragonmist fanfiction #dianneking writes

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steddieunderdogfics · 3 months

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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: Medusapelagia! They have 131 fics written for the Stranger Things fandom and 92 of those fics are in the Steddie tag!

The nominator recommends the following works by @medusapelagia:

I'm so good at telling lies (That came from my mother's side)

You're the home my heart searched for so long

The Party

It can't rain all the time

"They are such a bright light within the Steddie Event side of the fandom! Always encouraging others and offering support. They're so creative and have a fic for everyone!!" - anonymous

Below the cut, @medusapelagia answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Because I’m obsessed with them! It’s the first time I write fics in years and the first time I do that in English, but it was so clear that Steve and Eddie were meant to be together that I got back into reading, and then writing, Steddie fics as soon as Season 4 ended! Have you seen how they look at each other? The love story is already there! The Duffer Brothers did us a big favor and gave us the possibility to give them thousands of different stories in different timelines and different universes: how could I not join when there is so much to write?

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I love pain: you can put my heart through a meat grinder and I'll say "Thank you!" IF you promise me a happy ending. I'm ready to cry with the characters but in the end it must be worth it, that's why Angst and Hurt/comfort are my favorite tropes (always with a happy ending).

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

I love writing about feelings and I need A LOT of time to get the characters where I want them, that's why almost everything I write is Slow Burn… and Angst with a happy ending, but that's another story!

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

This is SO hard so… I’m going to cheat a little and give you three. The first fic I was obsessed with in 2022: wanna hurt you just to hear you screaming my name by DotyTakeThisDown a modern AU where Eddie is the owner of BDSM Club; My guilty pleasure: I Made Loving You A Blood Sport by Eddywow I love everything they write but this omegaverse fic it's absolutely my favorite; And my latest obsession: a man after midnight (professional dom eddie fic) a series by lydiah135 with a Transmasculine Dom Eddie.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Oh yes!!! I’m working on a new troupe for my Reverse Big Bang fic (can’t spoil it, sorry) and I’m so excited about it! It’s absolutely the first time that I’m working with this troupe and I’m so eager to share it with everyone! Another new troupe I’m working on is... Supernatural. I have two fics I’m working on right now but I have many events with a deadline (I’m addicted to ST events!) so I don’t know when I will actually start to post them.

What is your writing process like?

A complete chaos! I have an idea about the beginning of my story and how I would like to end it and I try to follow a particular vibe: what happens in the middle it’s just me trying to convince my characters to get where I want them (and I must admit that we aren’t always on the same page!). A few times I tried to plot ahead and it was a peculiar feeling: on one side when I finally got the time to write (usually after dinner and before bed) I had an outline so I didn't get blank page panic, but on the other side I got bored because I already knew the story.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I’m a fast writer and I want to get to the end of the story as soon as I can (both as a reader and as a writer) which means that sometimes I have to edit and slow down the pace a bit, and… I write a lot of dialogues.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

They are two completely different ways of writing: posting on schedule assures you some interactions (which helps you get motivated to continue the story), on the other side right now I’m working on a some projects for some events and writing a complete story gives you the opportunity to fix something you might have missed or not written because in your mind it was implied (spoiler alert: probably it wasn’t!) but not having interactions can be hard, and I'm so happy I meet some friends online that can give me some pieces of advice when in doubt!

Which fic are you most proud of?

There are two (yeah… I’m cheating again! Sorry!). The first one is Guilty, because it’s the first fic I ever wrote in English, the second one is Never Again, because it’s a double timeline and a double POV and I managed to get to. the end without plotting or getting lost somewhere!

How did you get the idea for I'm so good at telling lies (That came from my mother's side)?

I saw Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake (it's a male version of the famous ballet) and, in my mind, it was perfect with Steve’s story (my headcanon Steve obviously) so I was trying to find the right plot and I had this image in my mind of the ballerina carillon and I couldn't find a way to mix those two things. Then someone on Twitter suggested an Omegaverse Ballet AU fic and it immediately clicked with me: the connection between the carillon and the Swan Lake was Omega Steve! I asked the idea owner if they were fine with me writing the story they suggested, they said yes, and I started writing it… but I didn’t post it until I was at chapter 6 or 7 because it was my first Omegaverse fic and I was scared that everyone would have hated it or that I would have written something wrong or whatever. Then two of my favorite writers wrote a post on Tumblr about the fact that everyone should write what they like and it feels obvious, right? But sometimes facing external opinions can be scary. So I gathered my courage and took it as a sign: the next day I woke up at 4 am and I posted the first chapter because I was having so much fun writing it that I decided it deserved to be shared and I’m glad I did.

When writing It can't rain all the time, what was something you didn’t expect?

That someone else would have liked it! It’s a Crow AU and the Crow is a very, very, very dark story (both the movie and the comics) but it’s one of my favorite movies ever and I saw so many similarities between Eric Draven and Eddie Munson that when the idea came to my mind I wonder how was it possible that no one else thought about it! It's peculiar that after I started to post it I saw some artists draw Eddie as Eric (maybe it was a happy coincidence, maybe it was just the algorithm, anyway I'm glad someone else saw the similarities too!).

What inspired You're the home my heart searched for so long?

That story comes from a prompt that I saw during the Steddie Holiday Exchange and I immediately fell in love with it and I was SO happy when it was assigned to me! Still… I had some difficulties at the beginning. The first version of the story wasn’t good: I was writing it from Steve’s POV and it was super sad and I started to panic a little bit because I knew I had a deadline and I didn’t want to disappoint my giftee. Thankfully I brainstormed with some friends (brainstorming is my favorite thing ever!) and finally got the idea of Famous Influencer Steve, which led me to change the POV of the story to Eddie’s POV and from that moment on everything fell in place like magic! I also had to add a few Shrek references to my story and it was a little bit tricky but in the end, I think I’m satisfied with my story.

What was your favorite part to write from I'm so good at telling lies (That came from my mother's side)?

I loved writing the OCs that perform (and sometimes live) at the Crooked Moon. The idea of the Crooked Moon is vaguely inspired by Land of the Dead in Tim Burton's The Corpse Bride: they are the strangest kind of pack ever but everything at the Crooked Moon is bright and colorful, and they give Steve the support he needs to be finally himself.

How do/did you feel writing The party?

Oh… the party is… a sad story (with a happy ending). Is anyone surprised? It's a fic I wrote for the Steddie Week, the first event I joined and at the time I wasn't even on Tumblr. I love to torture Steve (that's why no character is eager to be my favorite I think…) and I felt like his birthday should have been on a date that everyone could have forgotten easily, so I decided that his birthday was on the 25th of December: a day when everyone is busy spending time with their family while Steve would be left home alone. And just to add trauma to trauma I added my personal experience as a gift giver! I'm a pretty good one: I listen a lot, I take notes and I buy presents months before. On the other side, no one does the same for me and I usually get money which, don't get me wrong, is great, but what I like the most about gifts (and so does Steve because I'm absolutely projecting on him!) is taking the time to search for something that the other person might like. It's not about the object, per se, but it's about the time and the care you put into it, it's a way of saying "I care about you." instead of "I didn't know what to get you so buy yourself what you want." If there is any other gift giver who lives the same trauma as me we can go to therapy together!

What was the most difficult part of writing You're the home my heart searched for so long?

The smut. It was my first smut fic ever and it wasn't super easy, but luckily I had a friend who read a couple of parts of it and gave me a few pieces of advice (thank you!!!). It was a fic with a masseur Eddie: I needed to write some smut no matter what!

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I love bratty Steve and I don’t write it enough, so this is a little banter between him and Eddie from My lucky charm, an omegaverse fic. <<Steve stiffens for a moment, then comes back to his sweet attitude and sits near Eddie, playing with his hair. “I didn’t think you were the kind of owner who plays. What do they say? Oh, yes, the house always wins, right?” “Sometimes I like some action too.” Eddie replies and takes the dice, “Why don’t you blow on my dice? For good luck.” Steve bends and blows gently on Eddie’s hand, then the owner of the casino turns toward the guard and makes a little gesture: they grab the old alpha and drag him away “You know what? I don’t think I’ll play. I don’t like these dice.” Eddie states. “Why not?” Steve asks with a little wrinkle on his perfect skin. “Because they are loaded dice.” Eddie replies and lets the dice fall on the green table with a seven. “Maybe you are just lucky.” Steve replies, still smiling. The omega has removed his patches and the sweet scent of lemon and lavender is filling the room. “I see what you are doing, sugar, but I’ll not get feral over your incredible smell. As you said, I’m the young owner of a casino, I’m trained to detect who is cheating and I will not fall for you.”>>

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

At the moment I’m working really hard on my Reverse Big Bang fic and My Steddie VDay Exchange and I can’t wait to share them.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

I’m absolutely astonished, flattered and honored that someone thought about me for Writer’s Spotlight Day so I would like to thank the person who nominated me and the mods for giving space to all the beautiful stories that we might have missed in such a big fandom. Thank you for having me and I look forward to the next fics rec! Medusa

Thank you to our author, @medusapelagia! See more of @medusapelagia works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve x eddie #steddie writers #writer's spotlight #writer's wednesday

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signanothername · 1 year

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Villainous brothers AU masterpost

This is a masterpost for everything related to my villainous brothers au, from my own art and comics to the ref sheets to asks :D

———

Reference sheets

Raph

Leo

Donnie

Mikey

April

There’s a big possibility that imma make a ref for Splinter too

———

Art and comics

These are gonna be arranged from oldest to latest, I’ll also specify which character it’s about, and I’ll also specify if it’s related to each other in any way

Lab rat - Donnie centric (possible cw: a character strapped to a table, nothing beyond that)

Games with Mama - Leo centric

White lie - Mikey centeric

Death chess - Leo centric

Mikey’s joker arc - Mikey centric

Leo’s gift - Leo centric (TWs: blood, amputated limbs)

Perspective practice - turtles centric

Stranded lullaby - Mikey and Raph centric - related “Mikey’s joker arc”

Misplaced anger - Mikey centric

Protective twins - Leo and Donnie centric

Guilt filled painting - Mikey centric - related to “misplaced anger”

Starscream Leo, real????? - Leo centric

Starscream Leo part 2 cause yes -Leo centric

Pranks - turtles centric

Mikey with a kitty - Mikey centric

Guilt and apologies - Mikey and Raph centric - related to misplaced anger and Guilt filled painting

Solo mission - Mikey centric

Chaos - Donnie centric

Turtle sketches

———

VB Au asks - tagged with #VB asks

How did the turtles become villains in your villainess brothers au?

broski I LOVE your villainous brothers au I am eating it up like a starving child

does piebald exist in your villianous brothers au?

How do you think your evil versions of the turtles will interact with Casey Junior?

i was wondering if the villainous brothers au is still ongoing

———

VB-Ask the characters (closed)

Announcement post (plz read this first)

-Leo! How are you?

-Hello hello Donnie, when was the last time you drank H2O?

-To all: Have y'all pulled childish pranks on each other for fun and if so what is everyone's fav prank they have pulled?

-Raph are you ok?

-Hi! Can I ask them what's their favourite foods?

-yogurt is such a goofy ass favorite food.. 💀💀

-Ben Schwartz's choice for his last meal

-Donnie how many times have you tried to mutate april

-Hi Mikey! What are your favorite kind of snacks to have at your tea parties?

-Raph, why are you not smiling in the group photo!?

-How well do y'all get along with your brothers in your opinions?

-Leo, what do you like to do for fun, to relax?

-To all the turtles: do you guys have any hobbies you pursue in your down time if you ever have any?

-Out of curiosity, what kind of experiments or projects does Donnie have in the works?

-April how do you feel safe

-Does everyone still skate board?

-Can i hug you Mikey? :3

-So, how did the villainous brothers meet April? What kind of relationship(s) do they have with her?

-April who’s your favorite brother

-Who’s older April or Raph

-Would Mikey ever consider letting Leo attend his tea parties again? Is it like a perma-ban or a “You worried Raph so you’re in timeout” ban?

-What do Mikey's tea parties usually look like? Is there a normal teaparty or is there something more to them?

-insta ATC thingy

———

Fanart and others’ art related to VB

Amazing OC art by @/ legallyaweirdo - they drew their OC as if she was in my au :D

Memes done by @/ yourleastfavoriteguyinthechair

This beautiful artwork by @/ okaydokielemonquokey

An adorable artwork by @/ diona-98

#VB AU MASTERPOST REAL???????#villainous brothers au #villainous brothers au masterpost #masterpost #anothers art

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eepy-samzie · 1 year

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if i see another post under asmo's tag saying he uses his ability for sexual assault oh baby hold me-

LITERALLY a few lessons ago in nb. He gave us an example of how he does it aka asking MC if they would like to try being charmed by him. In the very first lesson in og he volunteered to show his power with Satan jokingly warning MC that asmo would "eat them" and I guess some people took it seriously.

Yes, there are bad demons in the game's universe. It's safe to say there are demons who are against Diavolo's ideas, that's why they challenged him to that "Kingsblood Crucible" thing. Guess what? There are also bad people in the Celestial realm. I mean the freaking creator who was willing to KILL Lilith for breaking his rules, casting the brothers who tried protecting her away after pinning them against angels who they considered their family, and is now in the latest lesson all like "aww actually you 6 are now forgiven and can come back but if you don't I'll start a war with the world you guys are calling home now 🥺👉👈". The way all races are portrayed in OM show that it doesn't matter what realm you live in, it's your behaviour that determines whether you're a bad person or not. If you've been paying attention, the game repeats the same message: "maybe demons, humans and angels are not so different after all."

What I'm trying to say is; The brothers (og timeline Belphie excluded) share Diavolo's ideas. So WHY in the hell would they hurt humans on purpose?

Why would Asmodeus engage in an non-consentual sexual act with anyone? Does that really seem like in-character behaviour for him??

Just wanted to remind you all of this thing he said.

He might have slept around with people who were in relationships, didn't commit, or whatever. But I will never believe that Asmodeus would do something so gross.

I see people bring up the fact that Asmodeus trying to charm Solomon in the latest lesson is akin to that.

Let's look at it:

Now tell me, *where* was it ever mentioned that Solomon was against trying it? That Asmo did it without asking? That it even worked? Exactly, nowhere. The charming was mentioned lightly, without any details, and Solo does not seem at all disturbed or negative about it.

I'm not saying Asmodeus can do no wrong; He did canonically use charming in order to get people to admire and/or worship him because of his insecurities, things he likely didn't see the harm in doing cuz how loving someone as beautiful as him can be a bad thing?? <- something he would probs say (doesn't excuse him). But that and taking advantage of said people sexually is different. First deed is confirmed, the other is theorising with no confirmation.

#im so over this being brought up over and over again #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me solomon #obey me nightbringer spoilers

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adiduck · 9 months

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Rules: Make a new post and post the latest line in your WIP & tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like).

Tagged by... god, many people. Most recently @whetstonefires! And [scrolls back through mentions] @oathkeeperoxas, it seems! And... I think... @frostbitebakery? Frost this is a snip that's safe to read ;)

So due to the fact that my last line is "Damn it" and that seems like a bit of a cop out considering how many people have tagged me that I have... not done this for, I'm gonna give a scene and change from Operation Groundhog AU. Under the cut! Featuring: my pain re trying to make it clear which character I am referring to when it is an older and younger version of the same person LOL

And because I had to use a cut, I'm just mentioning that I'm no pressure tagging @asukaskerian, @goddammitjim, @hawkeykirsah, @joisbishmyoga, ...who else. @hangsterwheel, @lambourngb, @doodledrawreblogs... yeah we'll go with that LOL that's already a lot

Maverick catches up to younger him outside the door to the base. “Maverick,” he calls. The kid doesn’t even slow down. “Hey, kid! Lieutenant Mitchell!”

The kid stops in his tracks, turning around to look. “Sorry, sir, but I’m a bit busy--”

“You’re a bit busy leaving base without being dismissed,” Maverick says, and comes to a stop in front of himself, frowning. “Let me go after Lieutenant Kazansky. Go back inside.”

The kid stiffens, eyes narrowing. “Sir,” he says, pulling himself up to his full height. “I don’t feel a reprimand for Iceman is warranted--”

Aw, that’s cute.

“Why don’t you let me worry about Iceman,” he says again. “I promise I’ll return him in working order in a few minutes. Seems he and I need to have a chat.”

“Sir, if you’ll just let me--”

“No,” Maverick says.

The kid pauses, eyes narrowing. “No?”

“No,” Maverick says. He’s getting a bit annoyed now. “I gave you an order, Lieutenant. Go on back inside.”

“I can talk him back down!” the kid says.

“I’m sure you can,” Maverick says. “But you’re not going to. I am his superior officer. Go back inside.”

“You--”

“I am also your superior officer,” Maverick interrupts. “You, Lieutenant, are out of line. You’re going to let me talk to my aviator--alone--or you’re going to find yourself with bigger problems.”

The kid scowls at him, furious and right in his face. Maverick can practically see the gears turning in his head. Go ahead, Maverick thinks viciously. Go on, hotshot. Ask me what I can do to you.

He could pull him off the mission, is what he could do. He could send Ice out in an unfamiliar fighter on a suicide mission without a Maverick to watch his back.

Maverick watches the exact moment that occurs to this younger version of himself--the moment he freezes, pulls back just a very little bit.

The kid eyes Maverick for a long minute. Maverick raises an eyebrow back.

“...Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Mitchell barks, drawing himself to attention, jaw clenched tight.

“Good man,” Maverick says, and walks straight past him. “Return to the debrief room, if you please.”

The kid manages, through what Maverick assumes is an effort that should be honored with some sort of medal, not to call Maverick an asshole.

It’s for your own damn good, Maverick thinks, and keeps walking. One thing at a time. First, he’s got a Lieutenant Kazansky to track down, on orders from an Admiral.

Maverick does not go back inside. He watches the Captain continue on past the parking lot, quick-marching off in the direction he couldn’t possibly have seen Ice go but apparently guessed anyway.Maverick grits his teeth, and then sighs, rubbing his hand over his face and nearly dislodging his capt. He pulls it back straight and sits down, just for a minute, and tries to calm down. Damn it. Damn it.

#adi is a writer #the process #last line game #icemav #operation groundhog au #wip snippet #going to try to remember to tag new snips with that going forward #I make no promises though my brain is a sieve

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ghosttownwherenoonegoes · 2 years

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Got room for one more lost sheep? // e.m x gn!reader

All thoughts, actions and feelings expressed verbally by reader as well as in the narrative are mine. Some good ol' self-insert catharsis🥰 I would have done anything to have had an Eddie in high school to help me deal with all the bullying, but I never found one. I feel like I'm still waiting for him in my mid 20s... There's time.💖 (And if I can’t find one, then I’ll keep working on becoming one. I feel like he’d appreciate that.)

TW; talks of VERY specific bullying encounters from the past (my own irl ones from high school; Jason against reader), reader is painfully shy because of said bullying but they grow into it, angst, comfort, anger (Eddie), swearing with dialogue & narrative, slow burn, love confessions, friends to lovers trope (my beloved💖).

As outlined HERE, I just wanted to talk to Eddie for five minutes so here that gush is, fully fleshed out into a fic!

Summary:

"I was always the odd one out. The freak. I had my music and my books to get me through the days but I always looked for someone like you, Eddie. I never found you."

Fingers darted across the table, slipped between your own and squeezed hard.

"I'm here now, sweetheart."

"Yeah," you dashed tears from your eyes with your other hand, "you are."

Word count: 7, 447. (my firstborn😭)

Tagging @hersweetrevenge @seafrost-fangirl @another-day-in-chuckletown @alliecheer007-88 @sabbathsworld and also @eddiebunson & @hawkinshighdropout who both gave me so much advice on Eddie’s character! Without these two, this fic would have been deleted, unfinished, and it never would have seen the light of day! and a biiiiig thank you to @gemstone-roses for reading this over for me when it was almost finished and easing my anxieties about posting!

Eddie Munson had always intrigued you, ever since you first saw him.

He was... beautiful.

You were sat across the room from him in the cafeteria, your nose in a book. Music blared through your headphones but you tried to keep your body still. If you had been at home, you would have allowed your body to move to the music; no rhyme or rhythm, just movement for its own sake as you sank into the music like it was a hot bath for your soul. But you were in a crowded canteen and you were already disliked as it was, for no 'crime' other than being yourself.

For many people, that was enough of an excuse to be a bully.

People so loved to condemn what they didn't comprehend.

You had, years ago, learned to accept that you understood yourself (sometimes, and often with much introspection), even if no one else did or bothered to even try, and that simple yet devastatingly complex truth had to be enough.

It had to be.

As you turned the page, only half reading your latest book, you felt eyes on you. You looked up and around the room, trying not to make it seem like you were looking for someone, before you caught Eddie's gaze. There was a roughness to him, most definitely some kind of edge which made you realise that you never wanted to piss him off, but there was a softness to him, too. The cruelty of the world had eroded his walls, chipping pieces of him away at a time, leaving some tender vulnerabilities which he patched over with a devil-may-care attitude. Most people took him at face value, but you saw yourself in him, and it only made you even more curious about him.

There was more to Eddie than met the eye, and you wanted to know him. You wanted to know him as well as you knew yourself, but you had never even spoken to him.

He lifted his eyebrows as you maintained the glance and you couldn't help the small genuine smile as you saw that you had his attention. Even if it was only for a moment. You weren't sure if he was surprised that you were returning the non-verbal hello or if he was asking a question with those eyebrows, but you raised a hand in a small wave. You felt embarrassed to be waving, but you didn’t want to leave Eddie hanging. So many people ignored him, and you had sworn to yourself long ago that if you were ever lucky enough to get to speak to him, you would take full advantage of any chances you found or forged… whichever came first. This instance, the very first of many, was the latter. The kind smile which you received in response was small, and those eyebrows were definitely surprised now, but Eddie waved back after looking around to make sure that you were waving at him, and not someone walking past. Something in you ached at that, and you felt compelled to finally, after months of being drawn to him, approach Eddie for yourself.

You stood up, removing your headphones, the guitar riff cut off half way through, though it continued to play in your mind, so familiar were you with your favourite songs that you could listen to them with your imagination almost note for note. You let the book close, stuffed it into your bag, dropped your Walkman in with it, and carefully made your way through the circular tables and various groups which spelled trouble for those who didn't fit into one neat little societal ascribed box. People stared at you as you did so, and you had to step over a few feet; people trying to trip you up wasn't anything new, but you weren't in the mood. You had a laser focus on Eddie, who had been nudged by one of the kids he was sitting with as they all watched you approach their table. Eddie only shook his head; it looked like he said, “it’s fine”.

No one ever approached Hellfire at all, let alone willingly, yet you had done so of your own accord.

Your courage left you as Eddie's eyes caught yours for a second time, and you faltered in your steps. Those eyebrows raised again, just slightly, and you thought that perhaps it was encouragement. Or maybe he was curious. Or maybe he was going to be rude to you like everyone else was... you shook that thought off. This was Eddie. You didn't know him that well, not yet, but you knew enough to know that he was gentler than he looked. It was a huge part of the intrigue for you, how someone who looked so intimidating could be so kind.

What sort of life had he known?

You suspected that the answer to that question would be answered by the sands of time, as all mysteries unravel with enough patience and persistence. The tapestry of Eddie Munson was undoubtedly an ethereal one, and you wanted to see it now.

Finally, you reached his table, your fingers wringing the straps of your backpack, slung haphazardly over your shoulder in your haste to do as you wanted – to stop being forced to sit on your own, either at a table or in a bathroom cubicle, and to sit with Eddie and his friends - before you could talk yourself out of it.

“H-h, Eddie. I, uh, I – may I... can I sit – I mean, may I s - “ You sighed, frustrated with yourself, and turned away from Eddie to instead look out of the window. The sun was high and it left a green cast across your vision. It burned but you didn't look away, the stinging of the bright light distracting you from the telltale sting of tears.

Why couldn't you say one fucking sentence?

You didn't need to. Eddie saw you in that moment, and he took pity on you; helped you out a bit. You had extended a very tentative olive branch, and he remembered all too well the soul deep loneliness he had been plagued with before he had cultivated his Hellfire Club. His family.

Right away, so awfully shy (scared, as he would come to discover later on, when your own tapestry began to reveal itself), you were accepted. Befriended. Eddie's heart was an open highway, despite how many more people left than those that stayed. Most people chose to avoid his roads, rather than see things themselves before making a decision. He was used to it, but he wasn’t used to this, and he wanted to make the best of it. On that, you were agreed, though neither of you knew it.

“Gentlemen,” Eddie addressed his friends as he leaned over to grab the chair right in front of you, pushing it back until the edge of the chair pressed against your front. You stepped back and the chair scraped across the polished floor, making you wince. “I think we found another lost sheepie who needs our help. Who needs us.” He waved a hand in a way you read as 'sit down'.

“Y/N.”

Eddie had to strain his ears to hear you mumbling. You were painfully anxious, practically inaudible over the cacophony of the canteen, but you had paid a high price to just come over and he wanted to make it a little easier on you. He nodded and repeated your name to himself, committing it to memory. God, your heart was trying to beat out of your damn chest, pounding a wild tattoo against the cage of your ribs. You eased yourself down slowly, lowering your bag down gently. Wanting to get comfortable but waiting for the punchline.

The jokes you didn't see being set up always hit you the hardest in the aftermath but just this once, please, could something go right for you? Of all the tables in the canteen, you wanted the people sat at this one to be it for you.

You reminded Eddie of a wild animal as he watched you join his little flock, all caution just in case a loud or sudden noise made you bolt. The anxiety was coming off you in waves and he wondered what had caused you to finally come and say hello – this wasn't the first time he had caught you staring from across the room. You were a frequent starer, had been for months, but Eddie had never confronted you about it. Your gaze wasn't... demeaning but rather... Curious, and longing. Yeah, that sounded about right. He hadn't been waiting for you, per se, but he also hadn't been surprised by this turn of events. He thought… no, he knew it was brave of you to do this. Eddie knew a lost sheepie when he saw one, even when he wasn't wearing his Bo Peep. He'd been one his entire life until he'd found a way to become for others what he'd always so desperately craved for himself.

“Why are you here?” The question was blunt, rude, spoken by a dark curly haired teenager. You could barely see his eyes through the mop of curls and you shrunk back into yourself, wincing as you gripped the edges of the stiff plastic chair. Preparing to run.

“Shut it, Wheeler,” Eddie snapped, dark eyes flashed with irritation. “We welcome all lost sheepies here.” He took a deep breath and then smiled at you, his dimples just beginning to crease the apples of his cheeks. “And what brings you to Hellfire, little lamb?” Eddie adopted his Dungeon Master voice and paired it with another grand hand gesture, wanting to make you laugh. You were still so anxious and shy, borderline scared, Eddie thought, and he wanted to ease your way. You had been so courageous already and he wanted to help you. He had done the same for everyone sat at the Hellfire table at one point or another.

It helped that the intrigue you had always felt towards him was mutual. But you didn't know that, not yet.

Eddie had to coax you out of your shell first.

“I...” You took a deep breath, fisting the material of your shirt. You noticed that he had asked you the same question as Wheeler, though it had been worded much nicer and in such a way that you felt like it was okay to ask for what you wanted. Eddie's eyes followed the movement of your hands and he smiled kindly at you, trying to get you to ease up on the nerves. Just a little more. He wondered who had hurt you, for you to be like this over something most others took for granted. “I wanted to... come over and say hi because you're... Hellfire.”

“What? That doesn't even make sense.” Mike scoffed, pushing mashed potatoes around his plate.

Eddie closed his eyes in irritation, willed himself not to snap at the oblivious teen. In time, Mike would learn, as all children must. “It does, Wheeler. Count yourself lucky you never had to find so much bravery just for a hello.”

He looked at you, his eyes full of patience, waiting for you to continue. You weren't done just yet, he could feel it.

“I... you're Hellfire. You always have so much fun over here, I can hear you from across the canteen, and I was over there on my own and I just... I want to sit here with you all and soak up the sun. I – if that's okay, I don't want to be a bother or get in your way or anything.”

Eddie shook his head. “You're absolutely not a bother, sweet thing. There's always room for more.” He caught the implication that you had just called him the sun, warm and safe... A light blush dusted his cheeks but he refused to mention it to you or anyone else.

To stop anyone from noticing his reaction to your genuine, offhanded praise, and to show you that you were welcome, Eddie turned back to the group and carried on mocking the article he was reading aloud; how dangerous the group's beloved fantasy game apparently was. If D&D was that dangerous, then it was the safest danger you would ever know. It was as if you had been there the whole time, and you marvelled at how Eddie was able to make you feel like you fit in with just a few sentences. His vibe was warm, totally against the intimidating edge he put on every moment of the school day. You wanted to know him in private life.

If Eddie was the sun, as you had described, then you wanted to bask in him.

Just like that, you were a member of Hellfire. One lunchtime at his table turned to two, then three, then four, and before you knew it, you could barely remember what it was to have to sit alone in the bathroom eating lunch, or being made to sit in the canteen where people would 'accidentally' knock into you or otherwise pretend like you weren't there. You were a cheap source of entertainment and you loathed it, but in Hellfire, no one came near you.

Eddie had somehow become your protector; a Shepard tending to his flock.

It was everything you had daydreamed about that day you had decided to be brave, just for five minutes.

Usually, when someone approached Eddie, it was for a drug sale or for something less than savoury, and he was always on edge. But with you, Eddie only felt safe. You had never given him cause for concern, in that your words and actions were an act. Your anxiety had lessened over the weeks since you had joined Hellfire (especially since Eddie had given you your own shirt after a week of sitting with the group) but sometimes you retreated back into your shell and didn't come out, no matter how gently Eddie tried to coax you. That was okay, he understood you better than anyone else in Hellfire; much of yourselves were reflected in the other person. Someone had hurt you really bad in the past, they must have done, but Eddie never ever pushed you for anything. No questions asked, no explanations needed. He was content to let everything show itself in time. He knew how to be patient.

Until the day came, several weeks later, when Jason stormed into the canteen. He was shouting something about a pep rally, but his voice flooded you with so much fear that you felt nauseous and you practically threw yourself at Eddie with a noise which made his heart shrivel up in his chest. “No, no, no, no no no no no no no no - “ Your breathing picked up and you shoved your chair as close to Eddie as you possibly could, ducking your face into his back as you pressed your hands underneath his leather jacket, clinging to him. "Please don't let him see me, please please please - "

You weren't even thinking, Eddie registered in the back of his mind. You were hiding in your pure unadulterated fear. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey, hey,” Eddie got out in a rush as he felt you burrow into his back, almost like you were trying to crawl inside his skin, where it was safe; the other Hellfire members looking at what little they could see of you like you had sprouted a third head, “Easy, easy, Y/N, it's okay,” Eddie reached back and rested his hand on whatever part of you was closest (he hoped it was nowhere inappropriate, though he doubted you cared), rubbing his thumb across your clothes. His tenderness with you was at total odds with the way he was glaring at Jason. Finally, the question of who had hurt you so badly in your life was answered, and Eddie had never felt as bloodthirsty with rage in his life as he did in that moment. “I've got you, sweetheart, you're safe, don't let go of me.” His dark eyes followed Jason across the canteen, passed the Hellfire Club (Eddie and Jason exchanged almost identical looks of disgust towards each other, but thankfully, Jason didn't spot you), right up to the door next to the stage as the jock left the room.

When Jason was gone, Eddie patted you, being careful with his hand because he still didn't know what was being touched. “You can come out now, little lamb,” his Dungeon Master voice usually made you giggle, but you only tightened your grip on him for but a moment before you let him go, very reluctantly, leaving Eddie's back cold and haunted by the ghost of your warm embrace. You sat up slowly, your eyes glassy with tears, and swiped your hands quickly across your face.

"Th-thank you. Sorry." You spoke both sentences quickly, as if you couldn't decide which one should be spoken first, though both were equally important for you to say. You took several long deep breaths and Eddie's fingers spidered across his lap as he searched for your hand under the table, giving you a comforting squeeze.

"He hurt you." Eddie stated slowly, his dark eyes so soft and tender that it made you want to cry. You bit down on your inner cheek and wrinkled your nose against the urge. You gave him a nod; it was all you had.

"Uh, what - what was that?" Mike's eyebrows had almost disappeared into his hairline as he and the others had watched you and Eddie interacting. You were too busy staring down at your hand, laced with Eddie's, to notice everyone sharing a look of 'holy shit' and 'what the fuck?' but no one said anything. Everyone was waiting for you and what you would choose to share with them.

"Jason scares me."

"Yeah, no shit," Someone snorted. It might have been Mike; you weren't paying all that much attention.

"He... shut me in a bathroom cubicle when I was in first year. Lured me there by asking me to do something... I think it was grabbing a book he'd forgotten or something. But I got jumped; shoved in a bathroom cubicle, which was then barricaded with... something, the fuck if I know. And they turned out the lights. Jason left me there in the dark, alone, for an entire school day. Only reason I was found was 'cause I didn't come home. My parents lost their freaking minds and ripped the school apart looking for me. And the day after, some girls shoved me into a locker... from there, it never stopped. All I had from then on were my music and my books." You sniffled and Eddie's other hand rubbed your back in fluid, slow motions. Comforting you. Briefly, you wondered if he comforted other friends like this. You appreciated how tactile he was. "Jason was always the instigator. Always. A few months after this, one of his guys asked to be friends with me. I agreed... didn't realise he'd done it as a dare. No one actually wanted to be friends with me... it was all a joke. Someone outside the group told me all about it after a few weeks and they mocked me for believing them, that anyone wanted me around. After that, I never bothered trying to make friends. Just gave up, let it happen 'til I became the freak. Had no one, really. Until... until you." You braved a small smile. "I figured if I made myself as small and as inconsequential as possible, he'd ignore me. And he does... but he scares me." You glanced at Eddie, then. "Sorry I threw myself at you."

It was the most any of them had ever heard you say in one sitting during all the time they had known you, and you felt like a small weight had been let off your chest. Eddie, who had waited patiently for you to reach the end of your tale, was almost shaking in rage. He jumped up and out of his seat, his tongue, as sharp as a blade, locked and loaded. All four guys sat at the table were watching him, their eyes wary; Eddie was gonna fight, he was gonna start something in your name, and he was going to get kicked out again. They had almost had one lunch time without Eddie causing a huge scene; while they enjoyed it when he did, they all knew that the consequences got worse for Eddie for every senior year re-run. Eddie was about to physically fight Jason and while the dude had it coming, did Eddie really have to do it now?

At least, that's what would have happened in any other instance.

Except you flinched.

You flinched away from Eddie, you ripped your hand out of his, when seconds ago you had thrown yourself into him, and Eddie swore under his breath, his fists trembling as he sunk back down in his seat. Nope. He couldn't fight. You flinched. He took several slow, deep, measured breaths, actively calming himself down, and then when he looked at you, there was a tender look in his chocolate eyes. He didn't want you to be scared of him, of what he was capable of. He wanted to comfort you, though his first instinct was to protect you by way of doing unto Jason as was done to you.

Eddie couldn't get your reaction out of his mind's eye and all at once, he was again reminded of the way you had resembled a wild animal that very first day, practically asking Hellfire Club to adopt you as one of their own. You didn't need Eddie to fight for you. You needed him to fight with you. More deep breaths and then Eddie calmed down, down...

"For the record," everyone looked at Eddie, mixed expressions on their faces, "you can always throw yourself at me, sweetheart."

It worked; the tension was defused, chuckles were released with some of that, but the atmosphere around the table was still a tad solemn. And Eddie was now and forevermore on what he would later call Jason Patrol.

Eddie hadn't attacked Jason that day in the canteen, but his protectiveness over you had amplified as he had sworn to himself and to you, that you would never be harmed again.

These were the times over the next few months where Eddie's feelings for you grew, just as yours did for him. You started to see Eddie everywhere; he would be coming from the opposite direction and you'd smile at each other, but then moments later he'd be on the other end of the corridor, slightly out of breath and greeting you like you hadn't just seen him. He was like a lost puppy, trying and failing to not let you catch onto him.

Once or twice, he'd come up to you and grab your face, almost smushing your cheeks together. No words would be said but the eye contact would be intimate, Eddie's dark eyes and gentle but firm, hot grip, not letting you turn your face away. There would be some kind of reassurance in his eyes and you would relax, though he wouldn't let you look around. The lengths of time he held you like this varied, but the same signal occurred every time. Dustin would pat Eddie's shoulder - Jason's gone - and the tension would melt out of his body, he'd blink, and in an instant go from serious back to his usual self.

The subject was only broached to you once more, as the school term was ending and Eddie's campaign was reaching a conclusion. Just a throwaway comment but to you, it kick-started your want to make Eddie aware of how grateful you were for and to him.

"Hey, uh, something else for the record," Eddie gestured right at you with a pretzel held like a guitar pick, "I would have noticed you missing, and I would have found you that day, I promise." He shoved the pretzel in his mouth, crunched down on it hard, and once again, his serious melted away as he nodded his goodbyes.

You remained at the table with Dustin and Mike after Eddie left to go secure a deal out by the benches, and slammed your head against the plastic table.

“Why can't I just – fucking – tell – him - “ Every word was punctuated with a bang against the table.

Dustin messily shoved his hand between your forehead and the table. “Holy shit!” He used his hold on your head to push it up so that he could look at you. “Stop doing that. Here, look,” Dustin leaned over with a glance at Mike, who just shrugged. “You gotta tell Eddie. This is the kinda thing he'd want to know.”

“But, Dustin - “ You pushed back against Dustin's hand, making as if to hit your head again, and then leaned fully back until the kid lowered his hand. You shot him a small smile, thank you. “It's Eddie. I can't tell him. What if he doesn't believe me or doesn't want to know what I want to tell him?”

“And... what – what do you want to tell him?” Mike folded his arms over his chest, his dark brows furrowed in confusion as he and Dustin glanced at each other. Dustin had always been the most emotionally mature of the kids in Hellfire, and the relationship he and Eddie had was very familial; Dustin was touchy-feely with Eddie and Eddie was the very same back. No one interacted with Eddie the way Dustin did, and vice versa.

You took a deep breath. “All of it?”

Dustin waved his hand in a movement very much like Eddie. “Lay it on us.”

“Like... what kind of pretzels does he like? Those soft doughy ones which you gotta hold in two hands or those small hard ones he has at lunch? What guitar riffs in which Metallica songs make his heart bleed? Which lyrics made him who he is today? What's his – what's his bedtime routine? Does he have a morning routine? Is he... what Iron Maiden songs does he like? Not like? What about Black Sabbath? What are his favourite songs? Would he choose Ozzy over Black Sabbath if he had to, or the other way around or would he rather die? Is there a fourth option in that ridiculous scenario? I want to know what temperature he likes his food, how he takes his coffee, I want to know what his favourite things about planning campaigns are... how does he get started? How does he know when it's done? What song did he listen to this morning? What was the last one he remembers last night? What tattoo design is his favourite? Which one hurt the most? Why did he put them there on his body and not somewhere else? I want to know Eddie inside out, back to front and all the other ways. Like, if he was the ocean, I'd want to dive in. Get lost in him, you know?”

“Uhh... You get really talkative when it involves Eddie.” You weren't sure if Mike ever didn't have his eyebrows raised and you shrugged, flowers blooming inside your chest as warmth spread through you. You smiled, felt your face getting hot, and felt yourself becoming shy as you looked out of the window towards the forest. You couldn't deny it, not just to yourself but to anyone who bothered to learn, but how could you ever bring yourself to tell Eddie? It would probably ruin everything the two of you had together, and you would rather have Eddie as your best friend than you would not have him at all, all because you couldn't keep your feelings to yourself. You had done so well to get this far, you didn't want to jeopardise it. You ignored the part of you which wondered if Eddie felt the same way. That wasn't a road you wanted to even think about going down. Not now, and if your fear got your way, maybe not ever.

“Holy shit,” Dustin breathed, “You love Eddie. Like, a lot. That's it, Y/N, you need to tell him. Eddie will want to know. He won't care how you tell him, just that you do.” Dustin waved his hand, as if to consider the deal done.

You were going to have to confess to Eddie. The thought terrified you, excited you, made you feel like you shouldn't have stolen some of Eddie's pretzels as your stomach churned. “But, Dustin - “

“No! Y/N, you don't know Eddie like I do. You gotta tell him. Eddie's always had it rough but this? This will be...” Dustin shook his head, “Why didn't I see this before? He would be upset if you didn't tell him. Pretty sure he feels the same way.”

“Wh-what?”

Mike shrugged, his dark eyes amused. “Don't see him holding anyone else's hand under the table, do you?”

Dustin giggled, and you were almost mystified.

The topic was dropped as the lunch bell rang to signal that classes were resuming, and you thought that that was it.

You should have known that Dustin wasn't the type of person to let things go. He wanted Eddie to know that he was loved, so much, by you, the one who had risked it all in the name of wanting a new friend. You and Eddie had always been drawn to each other, and Dustin wondered what Eddie would give him as a favour once he got together with you. Dustin would be owed big time for this. Dustin wanted Eddie to be happy and he wanted you to be happy, and so he got to scheming.

The next day, Dustin filled Mike in on his plans.

“Dude, who cares? Let them work it out thems - “

Dustin sighed, shaking his head at Mike's nonchalance. “Really? Do you really think Y/N's gonna tell Eddie anything? They're still so shy but they really get going when it involves Eddie. Just – follow my lead, all right? I'll get Eddie in the room, you get Y/N talking. Eddie will take the opening given to him – you know what he's like. He just needs a single word from Y/N and he'll take the lead.” Dustin saw that Mike was still sceptical, and he threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “Look, just start talking. Ask Y/N about Eddie, boom, they'll do everything they need to and not even know about it. It'll come out easier and then they can quit pining over each other.”

Mike wasn't happy about going along with the plan, but if he didn't do it, then someone else would. And it was free entertainment, so what the hell?

The time until lunch for the boys dragged but then the bell rang and Dustin's plan was set into motion as he raced to Eddie's class - Mrs O'Donnell's. The two walked to the canteen together, exchanging pleasantries or a comfortable silence, before Dustin stopped Eddie at the door.

"How do you feel about Y/N?"

Eddie blinked in surprise once, twice, and his response came out in one long breath. He'd held onto his truth for too long. "I am... So totally into them, man, it's not even funny."

"It's just, Mike and I were talking to 'em and there's something they wanna tell you but they're shy about it so we were gonna - " Dustin made a vague gesture with his hands.

Eddie listened as Dustin filled him in. Intrigued, cautious, but willing to listen. "All right, man. I'll... Yeah." What else could he say to something so cryptic?

Dustin shot Mike a thumbs up from across the room and the darker haired teen rolled his eyes, dumped his backpack on the floor as he made his way over to the lunch line. Eddie and Dustin followed, making sure to stand within earshot but outside of your immediate line of sight.

Eddie only needed to hear you.

"So, uh," Mike caught Dustin's eyes over your shoulder, "do you... Wanna practice telling Eddie with me?"

You shook your head. "No, it's... I can't tell him. I won't."

Mike frowned. "Why?"

You smiled. "He's Eddie." It sounded like everything and nothing all at once, but it was the best explanation you had.

"Yeah, but," Mike poked around at his food. How did someone manage to burn sweetcorn? "You had so much to say yesterday. Tell me again what you wanna know? Maybe I can help you out. I've known him longer than you have."

Eddie had a look of concentration on his face, his dark eyes glued to your back. Dustin hid his smile behind a crooked knuckle, teeth gnawing at his skin. Come on, Y/N... Be brave for another five minutes. Eddie needs this and you do too.

You sighed. Everyone involved heard the wistful undertone. "I just - " You sighed again, frustrated that you couldn't just say it, but then it all flooded out of you, "I just want Eddie to know I love him. And - and if he was an ocean, then I'd want to dive in and get lost. I want to know, like, does he like doughy pretzels or the small crunchy ones? Which Black Sabbath songs are his favourite and does he prefer Ozzy as a solo artist or with Sabbath? How does he do his hair? How did he fix that chain to his jacket? What patches does he prefer - ones you sew, iron or glue? What's his favourite thing about being a Dungeon Master? Does he have a thing he doesn't like about D&D and if so, how does he work around it? Or does he do it anyway for the love of the whole? I just... I want to know Eddie so I can love him properly, the way I already do but in such a way that he can't possibly question it because it's right in front of him. But I couldn't tell him... it'd ruin everything. And it'd put pressure on him to say something back and then it could go wrong and I'd... just rather love from afar than try close up and get burned, you know? Eddie burns so hot. I said it to him when we met but... he's like the sun. He makes me feel warm, safe... he makes me feel like myself. I love him so much, Mike, I - "

Eddie couldn't take it anymore.

He stepped out from where he was hiding with the biggest, goofiest smile on his face, the apples of his cheeks heavily creased. The blush on his face was very obvious, and he tugged a thick lock of his dark hair over his mouth, hiding even as he said, "So, uh... do you - do you really mean that, Y/N?"

Mike may as well have thrown ice cold water all over you.

You froze, a deer in headlights. Still, you found it within you to nod. What would be the point of lying? Immediately, Dustin's plan became clear to you, and though you were grateful to him for doing what you had not the courage to do, you were scared. Of Eddie. Of what he would - or wouldn't - say, as the case may be. You felt sick, shot Dustin a look of 'what the fuck do I do?'

Once again, he had your back.

Dustin cleared his throat. "Take Y/N to the benches, Eddie. You can... talk." A tight smile, a sarcastic comment held back. He wanted to tease the two of you, but he remembered how he and Suzie had been initially, and so he refrained. This wasn't the time or the place. He could get Eddie for it later. But for right now... talking.

Eddie gave Dustin a look of brotherly pride. Fuck, he loved that little shrimp. Didn't know why all of the time, but Dustin shined in moments which required emotional maturity and intelligence. Mike could learn a lot from Dustin. He needed to. "Yeah, dude," Eddie nodded, shouldered his bag. His other hand reached out for yours, gave you a comforting squeeze. His fingers laced in yours was so familiar a sensation, physically and emotionally, that it relaxed you even in this situation. The effect he had on you was insurmountable.

And now he knew.

Shit, shit, shit.

"C'mon, sweetheart, let's go somewhere where it's just us. We'll be safe there."

You would follow Eddie anywhere, so with cheeks burning, eyes on the floor, you did as he directed. You felt safety in the way Eddie was taking the lead, in the way this situation had been orchestrated. You had wanted to tell him so badly but you hadn't had it in you, so your friends had helped you yet again. Already, you were devising ways in which you could thank them.

In forever but also no time at all, Eddie had you at the bench where he did his deals; you sat, knees bouncing and looking everywhere but Eddie, and he let his hand slip out of yours. You flexed your fingers, palm cold, empty, and you took your own hand. The feeling wasn't anything near what it felt like to hold Eddie's hand, but it was good enough a method to ground you. Keep you brave.

"Y/N, hey," Eddie's voice was soft, almost a hush, as if he was afraid to disturb the moment, to disturb you. "Look at me, please? You don't, uh - you don't have to speak. Just look."

You dared - you dared - to do as Eddie asked, and the breath left you all at once. Fuck, you had never seen his eyes so dark, so intense. He was looking into you and he laid his hands on the bench, palms up, fingers rubbing against themselves. You copied him and Eddie smiled as he read you like a book, once more locking your fingers with his own and squeezing in comfort, reassurance.

"So, I, uh - " Eddie chuckled awkwardly, looked away and into the trees, "How - how much of that did you mean?" The fact that he was asking you the same question twice in two different ways spoke of the real untold truths about his self-opinion and worth. It made your heart ache and then it was your turn to squeeze his hand in comfort.

"All of it." Fuck it, you were diving in headfirst. The first step was always the worst, the scariest, and you were over that hurdle now. Dustin had practically shoved you across the obstacle and left you to find your footing, but Eddie had been there on the other side, hand outstretched, ready to meet you halfway. Where he found you.

Silence fell, you and Eddie toying with each other's fingers and exchanging small awkward smiles.

Suddenly, Eddie flung himself backwards off the bench, making you gasp and jump up, an incredulous laugh on your lips at the awkward, endearing way he sat himself up, golden leaves all in his hair and dirt across his shirt. He dusted himself down, smirking; a way to lighten the mood, defuse the tension. He was so good at getting you to relax, at getting you to listen to yourself, and he didn't have to do anything other than to be himself... and wasn't that what you had always been drawn to, what you had always loved about him?

"I like smaller pretzels, for the record. Uhh, can't choose between Ozzy solo and Sabbath, I'd rather cut my hair to a buzzcut again instead of choosing between them and you know I love my hair," Eddie was pacing, listing off things he could remember from your speech in the canteen, "my routines for the morning and night are that there are no routines, I wing it. Just like I'm doing now." A beat and then, "what song were you listening to that day in the canteen, when you came over to Hellfire?"

You didn't have to think about it, your chest tight as you finally got some answers to your burning questions. But the more curiosity Eddie sated, the more you had, and you wanted to just get inside Eddie's mind, to become one with him so every part of him was with every part of you, and you could have every truth within him all at the same time. So you'd never be away from him. "Sabbath's War Pigs."

Eddie gave you an appreciative look, surprise etched across his face, and you grinned at each other, both of you finding your normal footing again. He was Eddie and you were Y/N; at your cores, you would always be these people. Best friends and lovers; the ultimate combination.

"Eddie, I... there was something I didn't share that day." You paused, asking for permission to elaborate. Eddie made a show of getting comfortable, resting his chin on his hand and gazing at you. He had all the time in the world for you, with you. He wanted to seize every second. "I was always the odd one out. The freak." Your eyes burned with tears; you didn't fight them. This was all too much and yet, not enough. "I had my music and my books to get me through the days, of all those things you know happened to me, but I always looked for someone like you, Eddie. Someone to protect me, to help me help myself. I'm not so good at that." You smiled sadly. "I never found you."

Fingers darted across the table, slipped between your own and squeezed hard.

"I'm here now, sweetheart."

"Yeah," you dashed tears from your eyes with your other hand, "you are." You couldn't speak anymore. Eddie had taken you to the point where words had run dry and all you could do was feel. "Things are better with you. You're my best friend and I'm so scared you're - "

Eddie tilted his head, eyes sharp. Considering. All at once, he realised he hadn't told you his own feelings and his eyes widened almost comically large as he sought to rectify the situation. "No, I, uh," he chuckled, "I feel the same as you, Y/N." At your look of doubt, he insisted, "no, really. Jesus, the moment I saw you sitting at the table on your own, I knew you were someone special. Did I know how special? No!" He scoffed, "Fuck no! But I knew. That's gotta mean something, Y/N. You're safe here with me, I promise you, and I don't just mean here," he patted the bench for emphasis, "I mean here, too." He leaned over and rested his hand in the air just above where your heart would be; grazing your shirt but not touching you.

Eddie had never needed physical touch to be able to reach your soul.

You both had music in common, and that gave him an olive branch to extend to you. "Listen, I - " he scratched the back of his neck, all bravado gone, "Do you maybe wanna come back to my castle and I'll play some stuff for you? You've never heard me before and I wanna share - " Eddie looked away, the apples of his cheeks giving away the wide grin he was trying to hide from you, " - that stuff with you, so."

You nodded, heat spreading across the inside of your forehead, your stomach swirling, "I'd love to! On one condition." Your smile was building in tandem with Eddie's anticipation, his eyebrows raised in question, "Take me to your next show? I hear Corroded Coffin is the hottest band in town."

Eddie's grin couldn't be contained or restrained; it took over his whole face. You giggled in the face of his happiness and felt it brewing in you, too. The both of you had always been drawn to each other, but neither of you could ever have expected this. In a flash, Eddie was up and out of his seat, around the bench, and throwing his arms around you in a tight bear hug.

"You are something else, Y/N!"

You would have said the same about Eddie, if he hadn't squeezed you so hard that he stole the breath from your lungs.

Oh, well. There was always time.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x gn!reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things 4 x reader

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medusapelagia · 3 months

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writing patterns 👁️

rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there’s a pattern!

Was I tagged by someone? No! But I saw this on @cranberrymoons Tumblr and I thought it was fun so I just jumped in (sorry XD)

1 It’s not the first time that Geralt has been hurt, but it’s the first time he almost died on Jaskier's watch. (Family Dinner, Jeraskier)

2 Steve Harrington is the most booked runway model in the world. (Separate Ways, Harringrove)

3 Billy doesn’t know why he accepted to go to this stupid club, and now that he is sitting on the sticky couch in faux leather he wonders once more how Steve convinced him to join him and Robin. (Wednesday, Harringrove)

4 Steve has trained for this all his life, but when his father gives him the order he hesitates. (I'll make you proud, Steddie)

5 Steve sighs in his dressing room while getting ready to shot, Robin, his personal assistant, got everything ready for him: his favorite snacks, some mango-flavored water, and even his lucky charm, but Steve knew that this movie was going to be the hardest he ever shot. (The scorpion and the frog, Harringrove)

6 “Fuck!” Billy yells, slamming the car door so hard that the entire car trembles for a moment. (Love is a battlefield, Harringrove)

7 Eddie sighs, looking at the boy at his side who is avoiding him as much as he can, which is quite hard given the fact they are sitting so close next to each other. (Black and Gold, Steddie)

8 Eddie sighs, looking at the white blanket around the chalet that Steve booked for their first holiday together. (Running From The Daylight, Steddie)

9 Eddie is kneeling in the mud, shaking like a leaf while Wayne runs toward him: there is a bullet hole in the trailer's wall just a few inches from his head and skid marks on the ground a few feet away. (Let the world around us just fall apart, Steddie)

10 It all started during The Masters: just a big misunderstanding that could have been clarified easily, but the other golf player decided that he could not forgive him and since that day Eddie Munson has tried to piss off Steve anytime he had the occasion. (The Caddie, Steddie)

So the main pattern is that I love to start with a name and that my characters sigh a lot because they already know that I'm going to torture them!

This are my no pressure tags because I think this is so fun!!! @kallisto-k, @spaceofentropy, @romeren, @rindecisions, @lorifragolina, @soaringornithopter, @slippy-slip, @cxwzkeys, @whataboutthefish, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation and everyone else who wants to join!

#tag game #even if I wasn't tag... shh!!

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averysmolbear · 1 year

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A/N: This is loosely based on a post for selfshippers about going grocery shopping with your fave. It won’t exactly follow the post but it seemed like it was worth it to mention, also because this will be selfship coded and there's a tiny possibility there was one selfship in particular in my mind as I wrote it but I'll never tell!

CW: This is very much not proofread! It’ll be all fluff. Just a lot of fluff. If you don’t like fluff, avoid this at all costs. This is also featuring an established relationship between the character and reader. No actual character is named in this but they will be referred to as “boyfriend” in this fic. Pet names will be likely used as well (babe, baby, etc.) and I tried to make the reader fairly gender neutral. There really shouldn’t be much else but if I think of anything, I will add that here!

tagging @humanitys-strongest-bamf

You tossed the cloth reusable bags into the shopping cart. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you pulled out your phone to find the shopping list you and your boyfriend had made at home. You felt his arms wrap around you from behind and you laughed softly.

"Pretty sure you're going to make it difficult for me to walk around if you stay where you are," you teased with a small smile. You didn't even look over you shoulder to know it was him. You knew you'd recognize the feeling of his arms anywhere.

He pressed a couple of soft kisses to your shoulder with a soft laugh of his own before slowly shifting to stand beside you, an arm around your waist. "Better, angel?"

You looked over at him and nodded before starting to push the cart around the store. It was slow going, each of you checking and double checking the list and taking things off of it whenever something was added to the cart. As you passed the bakery, however, you decided to sneak some cupcakes into the cart, carefully placing them inside so the frosting wouldn't end up all over the package.

You caught the look that you were given and so you offered up your sweetest smile, getting him to give in a lot quicker than you had expected. And it wasn't going to be the first treat that you slipped into the cart, hoping that your boyfriend wouldn't notice.

He expected it at this point. You would see one of the brightly color SALE signs on a shelf and suddenly you're trying to justify to him why you needed to buy several boxes of sugary cereal. And he would inevitably give in after listening to you go on and on about the savings and whatever other argument you made in favor of picking up the extra items. Sometimes he didn't even bother debating you about it. He knew it would end up in the cart one way or another after all.

The list was followed to the letter, however, and you were chipping away at the last of it as the two of you entered the refrigerated area. Somehow, to his surprise, you had passed on grabbing a particular brand of potato chips that happened to be on sale and only got the things on the list (excluding the cupcakes). He thought that maybe, just this once, the two of you would make it out of the store without too many extras.

He had gone to get a dozen of eggs while you were picking out a non-dairy milk alternative when you spotted the flavored milks. They were 2 for $5 for the half gallon size and you slipped a banana milk and a strawberry milk into the cart after looking over your shoulder to see if your boyfriend had noticed.

He came back to the cart and carefully set the carton of eggs in it, starting to reorganize a bit of the things already in the cart. He was frowning as he saw the latest additions.

"Angel?"

"Yes, baby?"

The way that you gave him big doe eyes when you spoke was enough to break him already so he sighed and just rearranged a few things instead of even asking. When he saw your triumphant little smile, he decided that it was worth it. Sometimes giving in and letting you have your little indulgences didn't seem so bad when he could see how happy it made you.

Of course the milks were followed by a tube of premade chocolate chip cookie dough and another tube of the sugar cookie dough. Then came the 2 packages of jumbo cinnamon rolls. You were quick to justify the purchases, pointing out that they were on sale and you wanted to bake anyway. This would just be a short cut to a few extra baked goods in the house.

And, of course, he just sighed and made room in the cart for the items. He pointed out that the two of you were going to be over budget if you kept adding things so you promised not to add anything else.

That promise lasted until you both made your way through the ice cream aisle in the freezer sections.

"But they're on sale. And you can get your favorite flavor."

The sweet way you made the proposition, following it up with a quick kiss made him cave in. He grumbled as he looked for a carton of his favorite though before he was, as usual, adjusting the items in the cart to make it easier when you made it to the checkout. He knew that if it was up to you, you would just toss everything into the cart and leave it up to fate when you got ready to checkout.

He always pointed out that it was the reason that it took you twice as long in the store but the truth was that it took you twice as long because you ended up wandering the aisles, coming home with more unnecessary purchases than the necessary ones. He, at least, had the good sense not to bring that up usually.

The closer that you got to the checkout lanes, the more you seemed to be on the lookout for sale items and your boyfriend was starting to feel like he was having to guide you through the store to ensure nothing else made it into the cart.

The checkout process was quick, as usual when you went shopping together, and he insisted on bagging the groceries. That just meant that you tossed a couple of candy bars on to the conveyor belt while he was too busy to notice. You quickly paid before he could make a comment about the total and you smiled warmly as you handed him his favorite candy. You saw him faintly smile as he took it although he outwardly complained about your impulse buy as you made your way to the car.

"Next week I'm going grocery shopping alone," he stated very matter-of-factly as the two of you loaded up the car with the bags.

You gave him your best big doe eyes and slight pout. He sighed and closed the trunk with a shake of his head.

"Fine, we'll go together. But try to stick to the list next week. Please?"

You quickly kissed his cheek before heading for the passenger side of the car. "No promises."

#tessie writes #aot x reader #aot x y/n #snk x reader #snk x y/n #bllk x reader #bllk x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mcu x reader #mcu x y/n #comfort character x reader #comfort character x y/n #f/o x reader #selfship imagines #f/o imagines

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lake-archive · 2 months

Text

The Start Of Their Story

AO3 Link - CATZ Discography - A Shared Love Between Our Posse (Masterlist)

Fandom: Hypnosis Mic

Characters: Gentaro Yumeno, Ann Wolff (OC)

Summary: Gentaro manages to bump into Ann at the usual café. And needless to say they seem rather… Agitated if anything. And even then things lean into a little more than expected.

Tags: Yumeno Gentaro-centric, POV Yumeno Gentaro, Original Character(s), Major Original Character(s), Conversations, One Shot, Short One Shot, Series, No Spoilers, Canon Era, During Canon, Pre-Second Division Rap Battle (Hypnosis Mic), Post-First Division Rap Battle (Hypnosis Mic), POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited

Words: 1,378

When someone leaves an impression it is hard to forget them… Gentaro should know by now, given that he had bumped into someone who was of said interest. An unusual writer, one who could outdo anyone in amount alone. Someone who had a never ending flow of inspiration, managing to put it all down on paper with no issues whatsoever, as if a writing machine. And yet the one behind it is not a machine but a human. Needless to say, anyone would be baffled, speechless and even terrified. He sure was, especially as a fellow writer. Was this even a reality or had he dreamed this up all along? He had been wondering and yet when seeing them a few times from afar it was less of a dream. They were not a fragment of their imagination, they were real. Very much so. And it was always getting to him. Though he had slowly started to accept that fact as well as their existence. The more he had bumped into them, the less surreal it became and he managed for reality to settle in. He had finally gotten to accept it, even if it took a little while.

And yet, meeting a person who may as well be a writing factory was hard to accept. Not just that but also studying the field of literature… That alone had caught Gentaro’s attention. An unusual writer… That was what he remembered Ann for, at least for the time being. An eager writer but that might have been an understatement.

He had encountered them a few more times and they were always eager to present him the progress or latest ideas they had… Which meant eyeing document after document, character sheet after character sheet. Or skimming through pages while listening through the thought out progress. Truly, this was a lot to take in each time. The potential was there and they would be doing this day in and out, even if for them it was a quick progress. He was at least slightly envious, watching them do all of this with ease. But all the same he wanted to get it out there, help them get out there. It would be a shame if their work got buried after all, would it not? And perhaps he might have already accepted defeat…

In any case, he first had to wait for the opportunity to make such an offer. For his luck, the offer would be made earlier than expected. Because when he had sat inside the café one day he spotted the student in question, waving them over. It took them a bit to register yet they had turned to him soon enough. And once they did he could see how exhausted they looked which had him a little curious. This was an unusual sight. No, not unusual. The two were not that close nor had they known each other for that long. So rather it was a first sight for him, even if they tried to mask it. Even once sitting down.

“Hello Yumeno–Sensei. What a surprise.” They greeted him as they sat down on the chair, right across the table. “I did not expect to meet you here today.”

“I shall say the same for thee.” He responded calmly. “It is unusual for thou to show up at this time. Has something happened?”

He could see them flinch for a split second, then fumbling around in their seat. They hesitated to answer, telling him all he needed. They really needed to not say a word and he would know that something had happened… Something they probably wished to hide. And yet they were doing anything but that right now. Even the biggest of fools would be able to see right through them. And even then, they still tried to cover it up with a sudden smile while turning back to face him, shaking their head.

“No. Nothing happened at all.” It’s a lie.

“Really? Thank goodness.” Another lie. He had just decided to not ask them about it. And honestly, it was probably none of his business to begin with. After all, the two were not that close.

“Although you suddenly called me here. Is there something you need from me?”

Of course, he should have expected that question. After all, there always was a reason, wasn’t there? Or maybe there always had to be a reason for them. But it is not as if he had no reason to approach them. In fact, this was perfect timing… For him, he was not sure about them right now. “There is but… It can wait, if thou art not feeling—”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m here now, aren’t I? Fill me in!” They interrupted, almost insisting. For a moment Gentaro himself had doubt, if this was really the time. And yet…

“Art thou certain?”

“Yeah. So if you got something, tell me.” They nodded, trying to keep their body calm, making no sudden movements. And yet, they were gazing around all the same, sometimes towards the window nearby, as if looking for someone. They were agitated, to say the least. He could tell.

“Art thou certain?”

“Y… Yeah! Yes yes! Totally! Go on! Please!”

And yet, he was reconsidering it in the end. Sure, he had an offer for them to make and yet… No, it would just be wrong, wouldn’t it? One had to be literally blind and or oblivious to notice that this was not the time. They wouldn’t listen to begin with, given that their mind seemed occupied with something else. The question was what exactly? He was curious… But alas, it would remain unanswered for some time.

“Nevermind. Thou art not concentrating.” He mentioned with a sigh, making their head turn to him in one swoop.

“Huh!? But I am! Don’t leave me hanging like this now!”

“I shouldn’t. Apologies. Maybe another time.”

“S… So I’ll have to live without figuring this out now?”

No, that had not been– Hah, he’s not good at dealing with people sometimes, he had to admit. A chance ruined perhaps… But… “No, I intend to inform thee, when the time is right. Thou just seem… How shall I put this? Stressed.”

A quick flinch in their seat, almost at the brink of sweating. “W… Well… Uh… Maybe… Student life is getting to me… Haha…” A terrible liar.

“Of course it would be stressful. Though I have little experience in that regard.” He said, a light chuckle to somewhat lighten the mood and keep up a polite appearance, raising no suspicion in any regard. They didn’t need to know that he was not believing a word coming out of their mouth. And yet, that had gotten him a little more interested… Just what was this normal student hiding from him? And besides, they were not the only one holding a secret here but this was a detail only he had been aware of at the time. “Perhaps we should hold this meeting at a different time, when thou feel less stressed maybe.”

“Huh? But I ju—”

“There is no rush. I do not mind waiting.” He interrupted. “Thou may contact me when it is most convenient for thee. I can make room.”

“Contact? Wait… Are you asking for my number or something?”

“No, I ask for thy homing pigeon.”

“Homing pigeon!? Hold on I don’t—”

“That was a lie.”

And a moment of silence. What a naive response. He thought that the joke here was more than obvious. And yet, it had left them speechless it seemed, at least a little. “R… Right… My number it is.”

“Oh, if thou do not want to—”

“It’s fine! I don’t mind! I just… Never expected this to happen. After all, exchanging contacts with a well known author… Sounds surreal.”

“Oh please, we are both just people. There is nothing unusual about this.” Or there shouldn’t be.

“M… Maybe, just… Ah, nevermind! Let’s just get this over with, alright? I… Will contact you once I have time then. Heh…”

An underwhelming ending for this chapter yet this is not the end of their shared story. No, far from it… Because Gentaro had a feeling that this story between them had just started taking shape.

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