#echoes of Wednesday clubs past

[luckthebard]

I’ve felt like Taliesin has been trying to find a way to do “superhero origin in D&D” for a while and I’m glad he’s finally nailing it with Ashton

#luck liveblog #critical role #echoes of Wednesday clubs past

[ravencincaide]

Between 7th and 9th street 

Summary: There was a secret room in the very back of the gentlemans club. It was a room Chuuya never mentioned and you never asked about- or else you’d end up giving yourself away. OR what happens in a gentlemans club stays in a gentlemans club. 

Pairing: Fem!reader x Chuuya 

Inspired by Kinktober prompt 9: Glory hole 

Warnings: 18 + minors DNI! Gloryhole, Blow and handjob, inexperienced-kinda, male orgasm, hint at prostitution and hint at infidelity- kinda, hint at old stereotypical norms concerning women, chastity, virginity and marriage, cursing and lies.

Enjoy~

______________________________________________________________

You knew his schedule like the back of your hand. 

You knew how long each mission lasted just from its description; how many minutes or hours were spent as active fighting and planning time- and how much was just wasted away on bickering, talking, slacking or doing some other ungodly thing under the disguise of a job. You knew how long each meeting took- how many minutes each subordinate would dare to speak before they’d get uncomfortable under their bosses stern gaze and fiery temper.

You knew Chuuya Nakahara like the back of your hand- better than he knew himself.  

So it was only natural you would know what happened every Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. To be fair, Chuuya wasn’t hiding it from you either.  

Not the fact that he was going to the gentlemans club after work before he’d finally come home in the wee hours of the evening or night. In fact he was always open to talk about the men he’d meet there, the cigars he’d buy, the alcohol he’d drink and the deals he’d make. No, he’ll tell that to you even without you asking. Intertwined the details of the less formal part of his work in between sweet praises and claims of love; of how much he missed you. 

You knew however that there was one thing he was hiding from you. A little obscured room in the very back of the gentlemen's club which, at first glance looked like any other room for rent for those too intoxicated to go home for the night; A dimly lit place with a simple bed, a desk with a matching wooden chair and a bookshelf. However there was an odd corner of the room. Completely bare but for a serving trolly on wheels with several bottles of alcohol and matching glasses, and an unopened box of cigarettes. An ashtray and a box of tissues.  Underneath the cigarettes there was an inconspicuous condom or two. Pulling the wagon away from the wall would reveal a single round hole, no bigger than 6 or 8 inches in diameter leading into darkness. 

This was a room that Chuuya never mentioned to you and you never asked about: or else you’d end up giving yourself away. 

You used one of the back entrances to get to the gentlemans club; a little scruffy door in a tiny side alleyway between the 7th and 9ths street that was primarily used for deliveries and kitchen staff. Your little heels click-clacked against the polish marble floors as you quickly made your way through the different levels of the mansion. You kept your head low, hood pulled up and gaze fixed on the floor, pausing only to duck behind a crevasse or hidden passage whenever you heard someone approaching. You hid until they were gone then continued your fast pace towards the obscured room in the very back. Then you walked right past it, to the only door beside it. 

Entering the shoebox sized room, you closed and locked the door behind you before pressing your ear to it, listening intensely for the sound of familiar footsteps. A few minutes later you heard them; the faint clacking of fancy shoes as they made their way towards the obscure room. A slight pause and a swoosh of his coat- no doubt checking that he was not followed- before the door behind the wall opened and then closed shut. Then a faint echo of the lock clicking into place. 

You moved away from the door and moved to take your coat off, tossing it onto a nearby chair. Then you pulled off your dress, having it join your coat. Your bra followed. Wrapping your hands around your breasts you stayed where you were, safely out of sight while silently listening to the commotion on the other side of the wall. 

Pacing, cursing, drinking. Then finally the screech of the metal serving cart as it was pulled away from the wall. A shuffle of clothes, then more curses. Then the sound of money clanging against the floor on your side of the wall, followed shortly by a half erect cock with attached balls pushed through the circular hole. 

You recognized it as Chuuya’s instantly; the tiny birthmark on the very base being a dead give away.  You swallowed thickly before quietly inching closer. But you were not fast enough as you heard his low, menacing growl. 

“ Come on, be a good slut and take it” Chuuya’s voice resonated, loud, firm and unkind. Without a hint of sweetness. Almost as if he was addressing a bug. Like every word he spoke was wasted on you. “ You know you wanna rub it and suck it; that’s all a cheap whore like you is good for anyways”

You dropped on your knees in front of his lengths and teased him ever so slightly with your hot breath. You watched his dick twitch in anticipation, an alluring sight that filled your mind with all sorts of naughty ideas. The weight of it in your hand- the taste of it between your lips. Having it push down the back of your throat or spraying hot cum all over your face and bare tits. Your hands gripped your breasts tighter, massaging the skin.  Unable to stop yourself you ran the tip of your tongue over his slit, focusing on the smooth mushroom head, then down his shaft, finding a vein you trailed it all the way down his base, then licked at his balls.

“ No, No! Pretend to be awkward with it. Like you’ve never given head before. Make me believe it damn it–” Chuuya ordered, his palm hitting the thin wall separating you two in warning. He hit the wall again when you  weren’t quick enough to comply. 

You raised your eyebrow at his request then shook your head at your own curiosity. Asking questions would give you away- your only option was to shut up and do.  

You pulled your tongue back before licking your lips. You made him wait a few seconds- until he shifted uncomfortably behind the wall. Then you gave his lengths a careful lick, pulled back, then another more bold one focusing on the tip of him. 

“ Ahh yes my love!“ You heard Chuuya moan behind the wall. You could picture him, standing there, arm against the wall, forehead rested on top of it. Eyes closed, licking his lips, trying to keep his desires composed. You could guess what he was imagining. The sounds he made pulled your lips up into a small smile. 

Carefully you took the tip of him between your lips and ran your tongue all around his head in circular motion. 

 “yes, yes Y/N” Chuuya groaned quietly, barely loud enough for you to hear. You pulled his cock out of your mouth and gripped it with both of your hands, doing your best to mimic an awkward handjob; you moved them up and down, more carefully stroking than tugging. Only occasionally twisting or squeezing. Sometimes you’d grip too tightly then seeming to realize your mistake your touch would grow feather light. 

This earned you a loud groan from Chuuya, a frustrated, almost tortured sound. “ You’re doing great” he lied through squeezed teeth “ Just like that, you can be a bit bolder with it- grip it”  

You pretended to be uncertain before tightening your hands slightly, gripping his lengths tightly as you moved them slowly up and down. You heard a much more satisfied groan from Chuuya, felt him buck his hips into your touch. You moved closer to his dick, breathing hot breath onto the tip. Watching drops of pre-cum form as you teased his mind- reminding him of the warms of your mouth. 

You heard a breathy chuckle then a whisper;“ Don’t be afraid of it my love, taste it” Chuuya urged. With no hesitation you let one hand go and wrapped your lips around the tip. Your hand dropped down to your nipples, playing with the first one then the second round bud. You shuddered, spreading your legs as you felt the unbearable heat between them starting to get to you. 

“ Oh yes baby– see? it doesn’t taste much. Go on now baby–mmm yes like that” Chuuya’s gasps and groans made you take more of him in your mouth. Your other hand finally falling away from him and digging into your thigh in a desperate attempt to remind yourself not to moan. He’d recognize you in an instant– but you were so wet. So needy for him. The only thing you could think about was burying his dick deep in your pussy. But you couldn’t- not yet. Not now. You needed to wait a little longer. 

In desperate need you took the lengths of him in your mouth, gagging as he brushed against the back of your throat. Tears in your eyes, you pulled him back before taking him again as deep as you could. Sucking and licking his dick while your hips humped the air desperate need. Feeling the material of your panties just barely ghosting over your folds, making you want to scream and cry at once. You stopped yourself by sucking him harder trying not to think too hard about how he’d feel balls deep inside you. 

“ ah-My sweet girl, you're driving me nuts.” You heard Chuuya bang his fist against the wall making you startle and jump back slightly. An angry, almost desperate tone filled his voice; “ No, No! Don’t stop- don’t even think about stopping Y/N!” 

The way he moaned your name made it worse for you; made you that much wetter. You didn’t know how much more of this you could take. How much longer until you broke and gave yourself away, begging him to come through that wall and fuck you properly. Biting back a groan of desperation you focused your mind on taking more of him between your lips, quick and sloppy; licking and sucking. Both of your hands working on the rest of him that didn’t fit in your mouth. You set a rough, almost brutal pace. Alternating between deepthroating and buzzing around his tip with your lips and tongue. 

As he thrusted back into your mouth, you could tell he was close. Could feel him tensing, his cock twitching with the carnal need to fill your mouth with his burning hot seed. His desire- for you. A desire he screamed as he came, then kept cooing as he rode out his orgasm. “ Ahh Y/N!” Chuuya moaned as his cock finally softened and he pulled it out of your lips. A trail of cum and saliva followed, spilling all over your chest and tits. The sight made you crave more, made you rub the sticky seed into your skin. If this was how his cum tasted and felt on your tits, you couldn’t wait until he’d finally fill your pussy with it. Cum in you and breed you, like a proper whore. You wanted another round- this time with more of his seed on your face and body. 

You heard Chuuya take a shaky breath making you lick your lips in anticipation. Then you bit back your growl of frustration as he spoke; 

“ You’re a decent whore” Chuuya spat, pulling his dick back through the hole. You suppressed a needy whine not ready to call it a day yet. Instead you kept sitting on your knees- hoping he’d change his mind. You heard the opening of a box, shuffling of paper then the click of a lighter. The smell of cigarette smoke filled your senses making you shift even more needlily on your knees. 

“ If you ever speak of this to anyone, I’ll kill you” Chuuya muttered then to motivate your silence and tossed another large bill  carelessly at you through the hole. “ Now get out of my sight- you disgusting wench” 

Realizing he was done with you, you quickly collected the money then rushed to put your clothes on. You knew better than to linger; a moment of fleeting desire was not worth the price it would cost you. Thus you were the first one to leave: opening and shutting the door quietly behind yourself. Barely missing the sound of Chuuya’s fist hitting the wall accompanied with the loud yell of frustration. 

You made a mental note to prepare an ice pack or two for him once you got home. 

At home you were quick to take a shower, being careful to remove any and all traces of Chuuya on you. Then you brushed your teeth and applied the tiniest bit of makeup to hide your puffy lips. A splash of perfume to mask any possible reminiscence of the gentlemans club and cigarette smoke. You looked like nothing happened. Still you were cautious; you soaked the clothes you wore in soapy water and poured the tiniest splash of blue on the rim of the buckets as if you were testing out a new clothing dye. This way you could be sure Chuuya wouldn’t go snooping. 

Then you rushed into the kitchen to continue with the dinner you started preparing earlier that morning, not forgetting to restock the ice packs in your freezer. You were almost done with dinner when you heard the key turning in the lock. Your heart skipped a beat and you silently glanced at the mirror on the opposite side of the room, making sure you looked normal. Clothes ironed and fresh, hair clean and put up in a bun and the most subtle hints of make up which hid any and all indecent traces on your body. 

You tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear as you heard Chuuya enter the hallway with a low hungry moan; “ Oh god it smells so good, love ” he called from the hallway, rushing to take his coat, shoes and hat off. “ You have no idea how hungry I am, work was fucking brutal today!” 

“ Oh you’re right on time, love! My parents are joining us for dinner- father wants to discuss the finalities of our engagement; and mother had some concerns about the priest we picked for the ceremony” you smiled as you checked one last time on the simmering pots- tonight's festive dinner, feeling pretty proud of how the food looked and how well timed it was. 

Then you paused before letting out a shy giggle as you heard your fiance sneak up behind you. You laughed out loud as you felt Chuuya wrap his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “ I missed you so much sweetheart; you were on my mind all day. The only thing I could think about was you, holding you, coming home to you” Chuuya cooed his arms brushing against the metal of your chastity belt. Feeling it through your dress he let out a low sigh of frustration “ I can’t wait until we’re married sweets, then you’ll be finally free of the damned belt” 

You smiled a little and leaned more of your weight against him, salvaging the closeness, ignoring the subtle sexual hint he made. Ohh if only he knew how much you wanted to be rid of that belt- then maybe he wouldn’t pretend to be so gentle and subtle. Instead of agitating him you plastered a chappy tone of voice; “Still we’re lucky my parents let me move in with you before marriage- a chastity belt seems a small price to pay in comparison.” Before you could continue this discussion you deliberately reached down to take his hand in your own. You gaped as you saw the deep cut, the swelling and the bruise. 

 It seems he had not just slammed his fist against the wall -- but rather punched through it

“ Chuuya  you’re hurt, what happened?” Your voice carried genuine worry  as you moved to pry yourself away from him to get the first aid kit and the already-prepared ice packs from the freezer. Chuuya was quick to halt your movements, tightening his arms around you, keeping you locked to his chest. The action confused you; “Chuuya, love?” 

You heard him let out a low groan and bury his face further into your neck. “ It’s nothing sweetheart, I just lost my temper at the gentlemans club- there were so many frustrating people there, and no decent smokes either! You should have seen all those newbies whining about such mundane and stupid things- and the ungrateful old farts.. No, dollface, when we’re married you’re going to come with me and see just how frustrating and idiotic that place is!” Chuuya complained, his voice shaky, words rushed as if he was trying to persuade the both of you that all those upper class snobs and petty criminals were the reason behind his anger. 

You laughed and shook your head ever so slightly, slowly beginning to rock back and forth in a feeble attempt to inch closer to the stove and stir the food. You couldn’t force him to let you treat his hand- but you would be damned if you were going to let him ruin dinner. 

Chuuya followed your every movement, refusing to let you go. If anything he clung tighter to you- as though afraid you were going to disappear on him. 

So cuddly and desperate for you, for a sliver of your affection. It reminded you just how much you loved this man.  You felt your heart soaring as he pressed a kiss and then another to your clothed shoulder, a bubbly laughter spilling past your lips as you finally answered him. “ Love you know wives aren’t allowed in the gentlemen's clubs- that is the whole point of them!” 

Still the offer filled you with warmth, and cemented your sentiment to never speak about the little obscured room in the very back of the gentlemen's club and what happened there. At least until Chuuya broke the silence first.. 

#bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #kinktober #chuuya x you #chuuya x y/n #chuuya smut #bsd smut #Chuuya x you #Gentlemens club #historical #chuuya fluff

[wisteriixa]

(HEAR ME OUT) i want to write a llorumi au fic but i have so many wips so i will write them out as headcanons as of now

this is a highschool au - mostly similar to the movieverse, but everyone is powerless, there's no ninja, and garmadon is incarcerated in jail. lloyd montgomery and harumi jade are enemies (to friends) to lovers, and they're forbidden lovers because of status quos

main notes:

harumi does not have the traits of being a princess in the canon (kindhearted, sweet) because that was a mask that she wore; that was not her. in this au, harumi is sarcastic, bold, risky, and wants to let go of her bitter past. no, she is not vengeful nor is she manipulative, but she is one of the four founders of the bikers

lloyd's personality is a mix of the show (mellow, sassy) and the movie (quiet, compassionate). yes, he's a nerd - he's part of the dungeons & dragons club and loves starfarer

the bikers are a semi-large group of delinquents who like to ride bikes and motorcycles and are like a found family for each other, mainly consisting of high school teenagers and young adults. the bikers are commonly rumored to be a gang of thieves, but within the bikers, their only real motive is simply to be a shoulder to lean on for each other in the group. the founders include harumi, killow, violet (UV), and echo (mr. e), and they usually occupy laughy's karaoke bar on friday nights

the dungeons & dragons club is run by mr. wu, lloyd's uncle, and they meet once every wednesday. the club consists of lloyd montgomery, kai and nya smith-jiang, jay walker, cole brookstone, zane julien, and morro wu. their current campaign is a story about a team of ninja trying to fight off a ghost who's taken the green ninja, lloyd, captive and under control

more information under cut!

plot (so far):

harumi is one of the “popular students you’d want to avoid + rumored to do illegal activities with a gang” kind of people

lloyd is known to be part of the d&d club at school and being friends with the ninja (due to being part of the d&d club), and regularly hangs out with the ninja (minus morro) at school

harumi and lloyd know each other by name and surface level information (harumi heavily rumored to be part of a gang + doing illegal activities, lloyd being your local d&d and starfarer nerd). they’re in opposing groups at school which lowers chances of interaction by an extreme

that is until lloyd and harumi get stuck in detention after school

after they leave school at a later hour, lloyd and harumi get stuck in a sticky situation (that i haven’t figured out what it’d be yet) and they have to depend on each other to get them both out. tooon of banter and insults, sarcasm and sassy quips

eventually they find the bus station and they sit on opposite aisles, ignoring the other because “he’s so annoying” and “she’s extremely reckless”. but then lloyd eventually caves in and thanks harumi for helping them out. harumi doesn’t say thanks back for his help

after that incident (which surprisingly no one knows about), they start noticing each other more often outside of the surface level information they have of each other. sometimes in hallways, they make accidental brief eye contact, but they don't do anything else to acknowledge each other. lloyd’s okay with not having to talk to her at all

one week after the incident, there’s a note left on his desk in neat (though unfamiliar) handwriting that’s telling him to meet at the docks at 4pm after school today. nya leans over his desk to read the note, and lloyd has a gut feeling that he knows who the note's from. nya tails him to the docks

lloyd finds harumi in a secluded area away from the crowded areas in the shadows of one of the warehouses. harumi tosses him a keychain of one of the characters from starfarer. lloyd never knows if she ever stole that keychain or not, but he finally agrees to take it as a thank you note from harumi

the next day, his backpack is seen with the starfarer character keychain dangling from one of the zippers

hanging out / eventual dates:

at some point, harumi drags lloyd along to a party and encourages him to relax and do some illegal activities with her (underage drinking, sneaking in/out), which lloyd reluctantly agrees to

but surprisingly he finds excitement in sneaking out and meeting harumi after curfew

(note: harumi has never personally introduced lloyd to the bikers)

lloyd or harumi at one point gets their drink spiked. i think one being delirious from the spiked drink is what makes the other realize that they have a crush on them

they start doing legal activities after that

i imagine at one point lloyd and harumi go hiking and lloyd experiences some sort of near-death situation and harumi saves him from death

harumi takes lloyd bike riding (she also teaches him some cool tricks) and lloyd introduces harumi to a bit of martial arts (he teaches her how to use a sword)

when harumi admits she’s never had a cake before (or really any kind of sweet food), lloyd is determined to get her to try sweet foods

lloyd takes her to a popular bakery and he makes her try some of their sweets, and he also helps her order bubble tea for the first time. harumi finds a new liking to red velvet macarons and lychee milk tea, and she learns that lloyd loves lollipops and jasmine milk tea

by the time they start regularly ordering bubble tea, they know each others’ go-to orders by heart (including desired toppings, exact sugar and ice level)

the employees there know it, too

childhood talking:

i imagine at some point later on in their friendship they talk about their home lives and their parents

harumi was adopted since her biological parents died in a building collapse when she was 10 years old

her adoptive parents have (very) high expectations for her, but she’s been struggling with school lately so her adoptive parents have her grounded until she can get her grades up

lloyd’s father has been incarcerated in kryptarium prison since he was 8 years old

lloyd wants to hate his dad, but he misses him, and he hates that he misses him

so it ends up becoming a vent-dumping session but they bond over their somewhat shared childhood experiences and they laugh a little about how opposing their lives were and are

jealousy:

lloyd is jealous of harumi because of how bold she is. sure, she breaks the law for fun, but there's something about harumi's determination to help those who need help that lloyd appreciates. she's everything that he wants to be: confident and bold, and a lot less self-conscious

harumi is jealous of lloyd because of how he wants to see the good in everyone. there's something endearing about the way lloyd rambles about his d&d party and the latest edition of starfarer that harumi enjoys. there's traits that she wants to have from him, too: kind and wanting to see the good in people, and she wants to let go of her bitter past

when the ninja and koko find out who lloyd’s been hanging out with:

their suspicion about harumi is collective

i imagine kai specifically tails him sometimes just to be sure harumi doesn’t make any weird moves on lloyd

the ninja ask lloyd why he’s been hanging out with a delinquent to which lloyd argues that she’s not a delinquent, but their words about harumi stick with lloyd

but overall they mainly miss lloyd because he’s been abandoning d&d sessions to hang out with harumi

at some point, probably a little over 6 months since becoming friends with harumi, koko grounds lloyd for sneaking out, which eventually causes lloyd to tell the truth about harumi

the excuse he uses to his friends and family when it comes to hanging out with harumi is that “i want to just be her friend outside of criminal activity” but to himself he’s like “i can fix her.”

koko wants to be supportive of lloyd, but she doesn’t want lloyd to make the same mistake of falling in love with a criminal. koko forbids lloyd from seeing harumi again

this is also when lloyd realizes he’s falling in love with harumi and he berates himself for falling in love with someone who has a bad reputation. “this is literally the worst person you could ever fall in love with what is wrong with you you need to stop being friends with her” that kind of thing

but also she’s like a drug to him. like he wants to be around her and he wants to learn more about her, he loves hanging out with her. like there’s nothing holdin' me back by shawn mendes energy do u get what i mean

when the bikers finds out who harumi’s been hanging out with:

the bikers would be pretty surprised that harumi has been hanging out with someone who’s pretty adamant against breaking the law of all people, but as long as harumi's happy, they’re happy too

they definitely question harumi if she likes him, and she denies any romantic feelings towards lloyd (she has been denying any romantic feelings towards lloyd for months by now)

at laughy's, harumi distances herself from the bikers, looking out the window as she tries to sort her thoughts out. ultra violet notices her strange behavior and they talk for a bit

killow and mr. e reassure that all the bikers care about harumi, and if she wants to focus more on dating, they'll support her

mr. e at one point realizes that the guy harumi has a crush on is e's boyfriend's younger cousin and they take a moment to process this information (yes i'm being self-indulgent and adding citrusshipping / morro x echo)

harumi comes to terms that she does have romantic feelings for lloyd, but she's afraid that if she tells him, he'll want to leave because it'll be so awkward and they're already good friends and she doesn't want to ruin that friendship by admitting her feelings for him

lloyd notes + headcanons:

when garmadon was still around as his father in his life, their family was rich. like they live in a mansion rich

garmadon was a good person and a great dad and husband

shortly after garmadon got arrested and was sent to a number of years in prison, lloyd and koko moved to ninjago city to start a new life away from their first home

lloyd also stole stuff as a kid, specifically starfarer comics. he was also the kid that harumi saw who stole that pack of oreos (he was 8 years old at the time)

however, when lloyd was caught stealing the newest edition of starfarer, he was given a talking to by mother doomsday and lloyd agreed not to steal anymore

koko helped lloyd bleach his hair. his birth hair color is brunet, like garmadon’s

lloyd's favorite candy is lollipops

lloyd is a cat person and has a weird obsession with mythical creatures like dragons and oni

lloyd’s style of clothing is fairly casual and green oriented, and he always always wears converse sneakers

lloyd is part japanese and chinese

the king of sass

harumi notes + headcanons:

when harumi’s biological parents were still alive, they were pretty tight on money, but they were happy

she is a rebel with little/no cause, and she’s been a bit of a rebel all her life

i imagine the rebelling started when her bio parents were still alive. at the prime age of 8 years old, harumi witnessed some kid stealing a pack of oreos at the grocery store without getting caught and she was like “i wanna do that!” so she started stealing little things like keychains or small toys from popular stores or even graphic tees

when her bio parents found out she was forced to return them and she apologized, but she gained the habit again after her bio parents died

harumi's clothing style is a mix of punk/emo and a whole lotta purple

she also really likes keychains and pins, but she hates wearing hats

she bleached her own hair out of spite of her adoptive parents

she's a cat person and has a weird obsession with spiders. she finds comfort in the lullaby "spider in the house"

she is japanese

the queen of sarcasm

i think harumi and lloyd’s personalities would clash really well together and, given the right circumstances, a love story between them could work out :D

anyways would anyone be interested in a story like this hehehe

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago lloyd #lloyd garmadon #lloyd #ninjago harumi #harumi jade #princess harumi #llorumi #alternative universe #ninjago movie #movieverse #enemies to friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #star crossed lovers #high school #ninjago au

[embracing-the-ineffable]

It was such fun to participate in the @gospexchange with the prompt from my giftee, @kotias: Bloody Mary by Lady Gaga. And now I have this image lingering in my head, of Crowley doing the iconic Wednesday Addams dance. It's a pretty small leap:

Have any artists drawn this yet? I'd LOVE to see! I can just picture David Tennant as Crowley doing his own version of the dance: 🔥

The song inspired The Ineffable Dance, my new fic about what happens after Crowley drives away at the end of season 2. With many thanks to my beta, @andromeda4004, come read about Crowley exorcising his demons (or angels!) at a dance club, and traveling through time to where his angel is waiting at a club of his own... (reblogs are appreciated, even if you don't have time to read right now!)

He saunters up to the door and miracles his way inside, carried forward on the swell of the music.

Love is just a history that they may prove

As he crosses the threshold, his senses are flooded with sounds, scents, and sights. He blinks and breathes - one, two, three times - and feels himself adjust to the whirlwind press of the crowded dance club. Aziraphale would hate this, but then again, he isn't here, he isn't anywhere Crowley can reach. He firmly pushes that thought away.

And when you're gone I'll tell them my religion's you

He visits the bar and downs a fortifying glass of their best whiskey, savoring the heat of it in his mouth and then down his throat, giving his body something to feel that isn't crushing weight or other distressing things. He takes that feeling with him, this small part of the night that Aziraphale would appreciate - delicious, buzzing warmth - as he steps onto the dance floor.

I'm gonna dance, dance, dance With my hands, hands, hands above my head

The beat of the music is more compulsion than invitation, but he welcomes it into his body, percussive thrusts joining the heat of the whiskey and driving everything else away. 

I won't cry for you I won't crucify the things you do

He dances. 

I won't cry for you See, when you're gone, I'll still be Bloody Crowley 

His heart skips a beat, and he blinks, hard. For a moment he thought the line was "I'll still be Bloody Crowley," but that doesn't make sense. It was definitely "Mary". Right? His heart skips again as Aziraphale's voice echoes in his thoughts: "You're being silly!"

Keep reading here to see what happens after Crowley discovers Aziraphale also dancing... in the past! 2.5k words, rated T, sweet and hopeful with no major warnings.

#good omens fanfiction #good omens #gospexchange #crowley #aziraphale #bloody mary #ineffable dance #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #jenna ortega #wednesday addams #wibbly wobbly timey wimey #time travel #hundred guineas club #gavotte #good omens fanart

[shoalweedhence]

A Time and a Place - Chapter 1

Chapter 2 || Chapter 3

Warnings: Sad Ending!! Please note that even though the first two chapters of the fic are just pure good old fluff and sunshine and rainbows, this was written with a bad ending in mind so, proceed carefully.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x GN Reader

Content Tag: Fluff & Angst

Word Count: 16k (Chapter 1: 4k / Chapter 2: 4.5k / Chapter 3: 7.5k)

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Chapter 1

When The Eddie Munson had first approached you, asking you if you wanted to come watch one of his band's open rehearsals, you thought you might just drop to the floor unconscious.

Though maybe not as well known and spoken about as the Hellfire Club, many other smaller groups of outcasts sprouted like wildflowers each year at Hawkins High. Most of you stayed at a safe distance from the others; after all, a bigger group was bound to attract more eyes and, therefore, more attention -which, needless to say considering the population of jocks seemed exponentially larger compared to any other clique, was never a good thing.

As is custom for most groups, yours had found its hangout spot in a hallway. The one near the art classes department had always been the most silent and, sometimes, you had even found a classroom unlocked and had snuck in there with your friends for some quiet time before your own classes. This happy Wednesday, however, was not one of those lucky times and you just sat down in a corner, curled over your notebook at the far end of the corridor, slumped over your work, a sight that would make the Hunchback of Notre-Dame proud. Your friends chatted at the opposite end, also keeping guard in case any ‘intruders’ -most likely students from other cliques- tried to invade your space.

Therefore, when you looked up from your page and saw Eddie Munson -as your eyes never seemed quite capable of leaving him alone when you found yourself in the same vicinity as him- talking to your friends and handing them each a slip of paper, you wondered what this breaking of unspoken rules might mean; and you would come to learn very soon.

Still, the shift in social rules was not the sole reason why your heart started beating madly against your ribcage.

Eddie had always caught your eye. From the very first day you had stepped into Hawkins High’s cafeteria, the other two people in your year who had laughed at the nerdy reference you had made at your side, the laughter at the Hellfire Club table had echoed loudly against the white, clinical-looking walls. A few people at the nearby tables -jocks, if their football jackets and boisterous attitude was anything to go by- had huffed, one of them chucking their food with a bent spoon only for the piece of mashed potatoes to miss its target and hurl past Eddie’s head and splatter onto one of the staff’s apron. After being taken away by the school staff, the table of jocks cleared out and the Hellfire table’s chatter started again at a lower volume and everybody’s attention returned back to their own meals. Well, everybody’s except yours. Because never had a high school cafeteria meal managed to look as appealing as Eddie did to you.

And your friends knew that. Not that you thought they would ever actually seek out Eddie to tell him, or that the secret of your admiration -as you refused to refer to it as what it was obviously, very much, and unmistakably not, i.e. a crush- would ever be jeopardised by them.

Despite that, you could practically feel your heart in your throat as you watched your friends talk with him, their mouths imperceptibly moving as they took the pieces of paper from Eddie, smiling. You tried to rationalise that he was speaking to them, and therefore, as he did not -could not- know that you were one of their friends, there was just no way he would come to talk to you… right?

Maybe, just maybe, you would need to check in with an oracle soon because, clearly, your predictions were all wrong.

One of your friends looked around, the tilt of their head as they scanned the area much too familiar for your liking and your eyes snapped back to their previous position, fixed straight down ahead at the essay in front of you that you had been agonising over for the past hour. Eddie’s sudden appearance had been the much-needed miraculous distraction you deserved from it, and yet, it might have also been one you were not ready to face.

You tried to focus on the lines in front of you, reading and re-reading the same couple of words as they lost all meaning, your brain finding it impossible to decipher the symbols it saw as letters, and the letters together as words with meanings, and them linked together as anything but a wild jungle of lines and dots and-

“Hey.”

You looked up slowly, feeling every single one of your muscles tense up, and for a second, you swore you could sense all the sinew stretch and pull, ready to snap at any moment.

Though, somehow, your body shook itself in motion as you saw Eddie crouch to get to your eye-level and you straightened up -no more shrimp-looking spine for today, sorry Quasimodo.

You let your notebook slide gently on your lap, your legs criss-crossing in front of you.

“H-hi.”

Eddie smiled, holding up a flyer on which you could make out the words ‘Corroded Coffin’ in a heavily stylised font.

“My band is having an open rehearsal at one of the big bars in town this weekend,” he started, and you took the piece of paper from him, desperate to have something to hold onto that was not your fugitive sanity, “it could be a pretty big deal for us if we get enough people to show up so…” he trailed off, and your eyes naturally flitted back up to look at him, “if you’re interested in metal music at all, we’d love to have you.”

You looked back down at the flyer in your hands, fingertips tracing the time and place of the show, time at which you knew you would be free, and place which you could easily drive to.

“I think I could make it,” you finally said once your nerves had settled.

“Really?” Eddie said, his voice a little high-pitched as his eyes filled with hope at your response. He cleared his throat before adding, “I mean, that’s great, amazing!” There was a pause, and you thought he might release you from the grips of his overwhelming presence when you saw him drawing in a breath, “Do you listen to metal?”

His voice was quiet as he asked you, almost a whisper, and his eyes darted over your face for a response from your features before your mouth even opened.

You smiled, “I dabble.” Your eyes fell to the Judas Priest pin on his jacket, “Killing Machine has had a good hold on me for a few years now.”

For half a second, you were not certain if Eddie was taken aback so strongly that his butt was about to hit the floor, or if you were just imagining his reaction, but no fall happened. Instead, Eddie clutched the remaining flyers to his chest with both of his hands.

“A metalhead after my own heart,” he said, the exhilaration in his pupils all consuming as they widened, swallowing most of his irises.

You tried to stifle the way your heart melted at his antics with a laugh, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

‘I could say the same thing about you,’ you thought.

A few seconds later, Eddie’s watch beeped and he stood up quickly, uttering a “shit” as he took note of the time.

“Gotta run, see you Saturday, yeah?”

You nodded and watched him dash for the other end of the hallway, passing by your friends and calling out to them with a “see ya!” as he rushed past them.

As soon as he was gone, footsteps echoing into the corridor for a few seconds before falling perfectly silent behind him, your friends were right beside you, asking you for details on your conversation and, obviously, demanding thanks for guiding him in your direction.

You sighed, a smile on your face, and hugged both of their cheekily grinning-selves tightly.

---

You had gone to the concert, obviously. You could not really step back from your commitment anyway since both of your friends told you that if they went, there was ‘absolutely no way in hell’ they were going to let another chance of talking with Eddie leave your grasp.

The few days leading up to the event had been nerve-wrecking. You had spent each waking second on edge as if the sword of Damocles hovered above you and would come slicing you up in twain if you were to even see Eddie’s face before the big day. Thankfully, the last few days of the school week were uneventful on the Eddie front -though you were not as happy about that fact as you tried to convince your friends of it.

Still, you were really glad you had gone because the show they put on was marvellous. Doug, Jeff and Gareth, whom you had been told were Eddie’s bandmates from your friends, all played skillfully and in perfect synchronicity. You were truly blown away by their level of mastery for ‘just a high school band’. A testament to that was the amount of people who showed up, clearly more than even the owner of the bar had expected since he started looking overwhelmed with orders fairly early in the evening. There was no doubt that some people were just there to drink themselves out of consciousness, probably the regulars of the bar; and yet every single person had at some point during the evening looked at the stage and gawked at the musicians in awe.

Granted, you had no right to feel proud about it, you had merely showed up and had learned the names of three out of the four members mere minutes before they had hopped on stage after all.

And yet, when Eddie scanned the room just before slipping the guitar strap on his shoulder and his gaze landed on you and your friends, his eyes widened in recognition and he waved. As he had turned around to make the last adjustments to the settings of his amp, your friends gave you knowing, shit-eating grins and you were quick to shush them with a solemn expression, as if you were at the cinema and the opening sequence of a movie had started.

But there were no screens here, just pure, direct, raw energy. Electricity rushed through the air with every beating of the drums, each strumming of the guitars, each plucking of the bass and each note slipping out of Eddie’s mouth. You had known Eddie played guitar as it was a pretty popular fact to throw around and make fun of him for -which you did not quite get, but what was there to understand in a bully’s behaviour really… However, when he brought the mic stand up on the small stage and stood behind it as the bar’s chitter-chatter lessened and they started playing, you were sure you felt your jaw hit the floor, and it got stuck there when Eddie started singing.

Eddie’s voice when he sang was like a smooth delicacy; no bumps or lumps upsetting your nerves, though his voice did become a little raspier the longer he used it, just an indisputably harmonious quality to it. It held a perfectly even tonality throughout their gig, never losing in intensity or accuracy.

When Eddie announced the last song, a part of you -a really, really small part of you- cheered at the idea of being freed from the sweaty, heavy and alcohol-permeated room, but the rest of your heart sank at his words. With a touch of gloom on your spirits, echoed by many disappointed voices in the room, you kept your focus on the stage.

“This song was not supposed to be on our main setlist…” Eddie said, placing one of his hands around the mic, two of his fingers pinching his guitar pick which gleamed against the bar’s lights. His eyes scanned the crowd until they fixated on you and he smiled, “but someone I met recently brought back memories of one of my favourite albums so… I hope you like it.”

The gasp you let out after the melody started was audible to your friends, even over the musicians playing. You could hardly believe that, out of all the songs they could have chosen to play, Eddie had managed to squeeze one of your favourites from the album you had mentioned to him once, the only time you two had ever spoken.

It made you a bit sad, in a way, to think that if he had gone around every other clique of outcasts of Hawkins High -and you could see some of them had stayed for the entire performance- none of them had maybe quite as strong an interest in the same things as Eddie did. And maybe that was not something to be sad about, maybe your differences were what made you so interesting -not the world bullies would have chosen but, again, when have bullies ever been right?

You shook your head, forcing the negative feelings out of your head as best as you could as you enjoyed the rest of the evening.

Once the song had finished and thunderous cheers echoed from all around the room, there was a rush of people leaving the bar, leaving you a bit more at ease and, suddenly, not so keen on skipping out of the, now, seemingly whimsical place.

Your friends told you they were going outside for a breather but would not let you join them.

“He’s right there, just go talk to him,” one of them had said.

“But, he’s with the rest of his band! “ You’d whisper-shouted back, “I can’t just climb up the stage and steal him away!”

“He played a whole-ass song for you. I think he wants you to climb up on stage and steal him away,” the other replied.

Sighing in acceptance of your fate, you looked back at the stage, seeing them packing up their gear.

“Ok, ok, I’m going,” you said, more to yourself than to your friends but they cheered you on anyway, watching as you made your way to the stage.

Jeff was the first one to see you approach them and he smiled.

“Hey, thanks for coming, hope you enjoyed the show,” he said with such ease that you really had no qualms thinking he was meant to be on stage.

“It was awesome! You guys were great,” you replied wholeheartedly.

Your eyes shifted from him as you watched Eddie pack up his guitar.

“Ah,” Jeff said, pulling your attention back to him, “you’re Eddie’s metalhead sweetheart, got it.”

Before you had the time to process what had just been said, Jeff spun around and called for the Corroded Coffin’s leader. Eddie’s eyes blinked at him first, and then his eyes fell on you.

“Hey,” he said, jogging over to you, “wanna hop on?” He said, gesturing to the stage.

“Oh, huh, yeah,” you stuttered, taking hold of the hand Eddie was extending at you.

The force of the pull was just enough to leave you perfectly stable on your feet, though Eddie’s free hand reached for your shoulder, hovering it as he made sure you were ok. You took a few seconds to get your bearings, realising you were now standing exactly where Eddie had spent the entirety of the performance, a slight mark on the reflective panels at your feet being the sole indication a mic stand had ever been there.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Eddie asked sheepishly, retrieving his arm from your side and you looked up at him.

“Y-yeah, I loved it! You’re all so good, I didn’t know that much skill could be found at Hawkins High.”

Eddie laughed, his hand patting his chest where his heart is.

“Why, thank you,” he bowed with a flourish, looking up at you as he added quietly, almost as if asking for confidence, “did you have a favourite song?”

You bit your lip, a shot of confidence coursing through your veins, “hm, I’m not sure, they were all so good…” you trailed off, mimicking being deep in thought.

In truth, what you said was not exactly incorrect; you had enjoyed the entirety of the set, but you could not deny that the last song, especially since it was so close to your heart, made you reach cloud nine.

Eddie leaned back up to his full height, towering over you a little as he crossed his arms, “I want to feel disappointed in your response, but that is such a good compliment.”

You laughed, watching as his arms fell back at his sides, “ok, Mr. Ego,” you said, palms up as you dropped the teasing act, “maybe that last one was extra good, but just by a tiny bit.”

Eddie fistbumped the air and turned back towards his band mates, “hear that guys? I know how to make a great setlist.” He was promptly ignored by the other three members who had finished packing everything up and were conversing amongst each other, ready to head home.

“You guys must be tired, I shouldn’t keep you,” you said and Eddie turned back towards you.

“It’s more than alright. Anything for a…” he trailed off, his posture becoming comically insecure, “fan?”

You nodded vigorously, feeling the smile on your face stretch your cheeks to their limit, “definitely.”

Eddie smiled, his eyes boring into yours for a few seconds before Gareth called out to him, he blinked, “Ok, well, huh,” Eddie shifted on his feet as he looked at you, “we also play at The Hideout, on Tuesdays. I know it’s in the middle of the week and the bar’s a little out of town but, if you and your friends want to come back…”

Insecure Eddie seemed to take over as he wrapped his arms around himself, though the look on your face as he told you this was seemingly enough to chase his doubts away for the moment.

“I’m sure they’d love to see you guys play again, I mean, I do. I’ll try my best to be there.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded and, as Eddie was about to add something else Gareth called out to him again, but, this time, was punched in the arm by Jeff, and the two of them started tussling while Doug stood unbothered on a leftover stool.

“Well, I’d better go before they break something,” Eddie chuckled, one of his hands coming up to twirl his hair before he unwrapped himself from his own limbs and waved at you, “bye!”

“Thank you again!” You called after him as the group exited through the back of the bar and you made your way to the front door.

You were attacked with questions from your friends as soon as the bar’s doors closed behind you. You did your best to give satisfying answers to all of their poking, and, in doing so, the evening you had just spent started to fully dawn on you. Millions of thoughts kept running through your head at a speed you could not even track, and yet, out of all this turmoil of incentives and infatuation, one stood out.

Eddie had helped you climb the stage…

He had wanted you there, and not only as a groupie, but also as an equal. You had felt that him pulling you up on stage was a way for you to connect directly with his rockstar persona, he had cast the metaphorical line to a side of him he had wanted you to see, and you were so glad you had taken the bait.

‘I guess, step two is stealing him away’, you thought.

---

True to yourself and feeling unable to break your promise, you did come to see them at The Hideout that Tuesday, and back again on the following Saturday as their show had been such a hit that the bar’s owner had ‘basically begged them to come back’ Doug had told you after one of the shows when, as usual, you would make your way up towards the stage and be hauled up on it by Eddie.

One Tuesday, as you left The Hideout after your usual banter with the group, you were lucky enough to be met with the strongest downpour you had ever seen.

“Lovely,” you muttered, preparing yourself mentally to get soaked.

That evening, your friends had been unable to join you but they had made you swear on Eddie’s life that you would be careful and not put yourself in harm’s way no matter what; bars could get fairly rowdy after all. Though you refused to put anyone’s life on the line of a promise, words were, after all, impossible tricksters, you still somehow convinced them that you would be alright and keep to yourself. And as the bar’s doors closed behind you, you relished in a well-spent evening.

A gust of wind pushing rain to the edge of the bar’s awning made you snap back to reality; if only you had taken your hoodie before going out… You took a breath, readying your skin to feel positively drenched in a matter of seconds. As you were about to take a step into the terrible and petrichor-smelling openness of the parking lot, a voice called your name.

Eddie approached you and you could see the rest of the band a few feet behind him as they dragged their equipment.

“Even I’ve got a flair for the dramatic, but running to your car in this weather and getting soaked? I can’t let you do that.”

You shook your head, looking at the trio behind him, “it’s fine, my car isn’t that far. Plus, I can’t let you guys have one less pair of hands to bring all your stuff back to your van either.”

Doug blew raspberries at that, “you really think not having fiddlestick over here is going to hold us back?”

Your hands flew to your mouth as you suppressed a laugh. Eddie turned towards his snickering bandmates with his hands held palms out.

“Is this how it’s gonna be?” He fished into his pocket for the keys and threw them at Gareth, “not a scratch, got it?”

The trio rolled their eyes and hurriedly made their way towards Eddie’s, well, Wayne’s van.

“You really don’t have to, Eddie, it’s ok, I can…”

You trailed off, watching as Eddie shrugged off his jackets, both the denim and leather slipping off of his shoulders. He had done so plenty of times on stage already, but there was something about him being so close to you, the smell of the alcohol-permeated air of the bar mixing in with Eddie’s weed-heavy fragrance that mesmerised you. Your eyes trailed down his arms and you could see the lines of toned muscles peaking out, not so much that it looked like he worked out specifically to be buff, but enough to show his activity on stage earned him a lean physique.

Fiddlestick who?

You blinked back up to his face, seeing a small smile there. One of his arms lifted around your head, draping his jackets over the both of you.

“Now, shall we?”

Both of you jogged to your car and Eddie kept you dry as you worked on getting your door open. When you felt the satisfying click of the lock, you turned back towards Eddie, momentarily distracted by his side profile as he looked off towards his van, watching his friends load up the equipment. But what was of interest to you were the droplets of water slithering down his curly hair at the back of his head. You felt something swell inside your heart at the way he was covering you, mostly, his back most likely getting drenched. You bit your lip, and as soon as the impulse hit you, you pulled him towards you. Your arms wrapped around his waist, touching the cold spots on his back that had been rain-kissed.

Eddie stood still, his arms wavering for a moment until he tightened his grip on his jackets so the both of you would not get soaked. His body relaxed against your own, his waist letting itself be pulled softly into your embrace.

You looked up at him, a rosy blush flushing his cheeks as he watched you.

“Thank you,” you said, slowly retreating your hands back to your sides.

You slipped into your car, your clothes almost perfectly dry as they touched the seat, except from a few splatters on the bottom of your legs. Eddie gave you a wave as he had now let his jackets fall on top of his head and held them in place with one hand. He hurried back to his van, and you made sure to watch until he was safely in the driver seat before pulling in reverse.

You could still feel the beating of his heart against your chest when you arrived at your place, the way his body had leaned into yours in your embrace and how colourful his cheeks had looked… and you thought that maybe, next time an occasion like this one would show up, just maybe, you would find the courage to verbalise how you feel.

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fandom #stranger things #eddie munson/reader #shoalweedhence writes #eddie munson angst

[thruheavenandhighwater]

Pairing: Eddie Munson/ Female OC

Requested By: NA

Word Count: 3,457

Inspired entirely by @eddieandbird and this lovely Eddie note. Thank you so much for allowing me to write this fic and letting me use your art for the header. I really hope I've done you and the note justice. All of my love 🥰

Part Two: Prom Night

Eddie Munson Masterlist Stranger Things Masterlist Series Masterlist

~~~~~

"And, finally, your reminder for prom tickets. Next Friday at lunch is your last chance to buy tickets before the dance."

Principal Higgins' voice echoed through the empty hallways of Hawkins High. Students who were packed into classrooms began to exchange excited words under the too bright florescent lights.

Eddie Munson sat in his first period history class, shoulders hunched over the small desk. His ears perked at the mention of the prom. He had bought a ticket weeks ago. The cheerleader who was running the ticket table on that particular Wednesday morning seemed surprised to see him in line. He didn't blame her. He was surprised to find himself there. But a moment of Henderson fueled bravery had landed him there, standing between basketball jocks and science nerds.

She sat beside him suddenly. Her dark hair was teased extra high today. He loved the way it bounced just slightly as she sat down. She smiled at him, baring her perfect teeth as she offered him a friendly "Good morning." His lips drew into a tight line as he nodded quickly.

This had become something of a routine over the school year. She would greet him and he would try to hide his sweaty palms when he smiled back at her. She was one of the only people in school who looked at him as anything more than a scapegoat for unfounded anger.

She was sweet to him. Genuinely sweet. When she brought brownies to class for her birthday two months ago, she offered Eddie one first. She even asked if he wanted a corner piece. He didn't, he told her, opting for a middle cut. "The middle is the best part, anyway," she'd told him with a smile as she handed the brownie to him wrapped in a white napkin.

Eddie's crush on her was nothing new. Quite the opposite, if he was honest with himself. It had started in middle school. Sixth grade, to be exact. That was the year she came back from summer vacation six inches taller with a smile full of braces. She was breathtaking.

His crush only grew each year. He watched as she smiled to everyone in the halls. The way she so easily made friends impressed and scared him. She was so open, so giving with her energy. She drew people to her like a magnet and Eddie was no exception.

When Mrs. Ballard had assigned her the seat right next to him on the first day of school he'd initially been happy. One could have even called it excitement. But sitting next to her everyday proved difficult. He sat next to her and watched her, day after day.

He watched the way she smiled to herself when she got an answer right. He watched the way her styles changed with the seasons. Skirts and t-shirts in August gave way to snow boots and heavy sweaters in January. He always thought she looked incredible, no matter what she wore.

But what he loved watching the most was when she was focused. Like, really focused. She'd cross one knee over the other beneath her desk, her foot tapping against the metal leg of the desk. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth. If she was really stumped on something she'd tap the eraser end of her pencil to her temple, like she was trying to dislodge the information she was looking for.

Eddie had spent the entirety of the school year fending off well meant advice from every member of the Hellfire Club. Dustin, specifically, had been trying to convince him to ask her out for months. As soon as the curly headed freshman caught wind of his crush he made his personal mission to get them together. Over the course of the past eight months Dustin Henderson had offered up no less than a dozen half baked ideas. And one that was actually pretty decent.

"Ask her to prom," Dustin had instructed one night as he helped Eddie clean up after a Hellfire campaign. The way the younger boy enunciated every word annoyed Eddie. "It's your last shot! You're really gonna let her get away without ever even trying?" He hated when the little shit was right.

So now here he sat. Two weeks to prom, a ticket sitting on his dresser, and no date. His fingers flexed and relaxed repeatedly in his lap. He wiped his sweaty palms on his knees before flipping to an empty page in his notebook.

Hey

Was that too simple? Was it stupid? How the fuck is he supposed to ask the most wonderful person he'd ever met to a stupid school dance? It felt wrong. The idea of passing the scribbled note to her, if one word could even be called a note, made his stomach hurt.

So he didn't. He closed his notebook and tried to ignore the way her perfume smelled for the rest of class. He nearly lept to the other side of the classroom when the bell rang.

"In a hurry?" She asked with a smile as she shoved her books into her purple backpack. He could only offer a shy, tight-lipped smile, a single breath from his nose by way of a laugh. His notebook burned in his fingers as he gripped it tightly. He watched as she walked away through a row of desks. "Have a good one, Eddie." She said, waving before walking out of the door.

Lunch that day was almost unbearable for Eddie. He knew the guys would ask him about her. They always did. Her name was more often than not the first word spoken as Eddie took his seat at the head of their table.

"You're fucking with me right now," Henderson groaned, his face landing in his open palm.

"Prom is in two weeks!" Jeff told him, as if the date had mysteriously slipped Eddie's mind.

Eddie rolled his eyes as he pulled an open snack bag from his black metal lunch box. He knew when the prom was. He knew he was running out of time. What he didn't know was how she would react. And the fear of not knowing was holding Eddie in place.

"She's gonna say no anyway," he told them quietly.

"You don't know that," Mike commented from his seat. He poked at the school lunch slop on his tray blindly, his eyes trained on Eddie.

"The answer is always gonna be no if you don't ask." He had to admit that he hated how often Henderson was right. "I'm giving you until Friday," he said, dropping his fork to his tray. A muted metallic clang echoed from in front of him. "If you haven't asked her yet I'm doing it for you. I can- we can't sit around and watch this anymore. Right, boys?" He asked the table, earning a round of slightly louder than necessary agreements from the club members around him.

Eddie's appetite left in a hurry. He knew that his friends meant well. They wanted what they thought was best for him. But the nagging voice in his head that told him not to try was getting louder and harder to ignore.

His uncle, the man who Eddie thought he got his perceptiveness from, was more gentle in his approach as Eddie's love guide. When Eddie had told him that he bought a prom ticket he didn't seem surprised. At least, not the same kind of surprised that everyone else was.

"Who's the lucky girl?" He asked, ashing his cigarette into the coffee can turned ashtray that sat between them.

Eddie's smile was so wide he had to duck his head, his chin hitting his chest as his dark curls forged a curtain around his cheeks. Wayne saw it anyway. He always saw Eddie, even when the younger man would have rather stayed hidden.

Wayne listened intently and his nephew gushed about the girl who sat beside him in history. He felt like he already knew her. He'd watched Eddie's feelings develop and change over the years. He knew how special this girl was to him before he even asked the question. There was a moment of silence shared between the two as they passed an old Zippo between each other, one last cigarette before bed.

"'m afraid to ask her," Eddie admitted as he exhaled a cloud of smoke into the night air.

"Why's'at?"

Eddie sighed, the long, thoughtful kind of sigh that only came before a moment of unfiltered honesty. "What if she says no?"

Wayne was quiet. His thumb toyed idly with the butt of his cigarette as he chose his next words carefully. "That's part'a life, son." He finally said before bringing the cigarette to his lips. "But that don't mean you shouldn't try."

Eddie thought back to that conversation as he sat silently amongst his friends. They were right. Uncle Wayne was right. He knew that he was the only thing standing in his own way of finding out once and for all.

The following three days were torturous for Eddie. Tuesday she'd shown up to class in a new dress. The simple pink fabric made infinitely more beautiful once she put it on. He couldn't ask her today, he decided. She looked too good and she'd definitely say no. Wednesday, she greeted him like normal and he felt his stomach twist itself into knots at her smile. She seemed extra happy. No reason for him to ruin it by asking her to prom.

And today, Thursday… was the worst. This morning she was late for class. She showed up fifteen minutes into Mrs. Ballards lesson with a tardy slip from the office, rambling out an excuse as she handed it to their teacher.

"My car wouldn't start and I- I had to call my dad and-"

"Just take your seat," she was cut off by their teacher.

She nodded and walked quickly to her seat. Eddie watched as she rifled through her backpack, her shoulders tense. She set the bag down with a defeated huff. She hadn't found what she was looking for.

Without thinking Eddie's hand breached the invisible wall he'd erected between them. The end is his pencil tapped lightly to her elbow as she stared at the chalkboard like a lost deer in headlights.

She jumped, startled at the intrusion. But her shock melted to gratuity as her eyes landed on the stubby eraser at the end of his pencil. She took it from him with the hand opposite the arm that he'd tapped. Her pinky and ring finger wrapped around his hand as she mouthed a silent thanks. His cheeks flushed with warmth at her touch. It was electrifying.

His leg bounced under his desk for the rest of class. It was now or never, he thought. Tomorrow was the deadline that Henderson had imposed on him. And there was a part of him that really believed his underling would follow through. He wouldn't give him the chance.

Glancing at the clock at the front of the classroom he realized that he only had a few minutes left before she'd be gone. He flipped to the page in his notebook that he'd scribbled a single word on Monday morning.

Hey

He ripped the page from the book, careful to be as silent as possible. His fingers vibrated as he folded the paper in half three times. He looked to the clock once more. Two minutes, Munson.

His eyes stayed firmly planted on the chalkboard as he silently set the folded paper on her desk. His heart slammed against his ribcage when she took the paper, opening it slowly. She flattened it against her desk before writing her reply.

Hello :)

The smiley face that accompanied the word pulled an equally cheesy smile from Eddie. He quickly added his own words below hers.

You going to that dance next weekend?

He handed it back, eyeing the clock. He watched the second hand tick. He swore he could feel every movement of the tiny black line as she wrote him back.

The prom?

Seeing the word written in her exquisite penmanship suddenly made everything feel too real. His palms began to sweat. His nerves almost taking over before he shut them down.

Yes

He saw her smile out of the corner of his eye. His heart skipped a beat as she quickly answered his question before sliding the paper onto his desk once more.

Yeah, I'm going. Why?

Everything in Eddie's body and mind told him to end the conversation here. To crumple up the paper and throw it away. Or burn it outside. Leave no evidence of the leap he was about to take.

Would you want to go with me?

He set the paper on her desk just as the second hand on that god forsaken clock crossed the threshold of 8:45. The bell rang loudly above them. The sound echoed in Eddie's ears, reverberating in his chest as she stood up from her seat beside him.

She tucked the paper into the back pocket of her jeans before putting her books into her backpack. She turned to him, pencil extended. Her smile could have brought Eddie to his knees if he'd been standing.

"Keep it," he told her. "You'll need it for your other classes."

She nodded and tucked it behind her ear. "I'll keep it safe for you." She told him as she turned to leave.

As he expected, the first words out of Dustin's mouth when he sat down at lunch were the age old question. "Did you ask her?" Eddie took a deep breath as he tried to think of what to say. He held it in his lungs like the first hit of a fresh smoke.

"Kinda," was what he settled on.

"Kinda?" Jeff asked, clarifying before taking a drink of his Coke.

"Kinda," Eddie repeated.

"What the fuck does that even mean?" Dustin and, his tone annoyed as he stared down the older boy.

"It means I kinda asked her," Eddie shrugged, his gaze dropping to his hands in his lap.

"So do I need to ask her for you or not?"

Eddie looked up to Dustin with a shy smirk. "No," he answered. "I definitely got the question out, but I didn't get an answer."

He spent the next few minutes relaying the events of his first period class to the club members. They hung on his every word as he detailed everything from her tardiness to his panic as she slipped the folded note into her pocket.

"She didn't even have a second to read it," Eddie finished, sounding defeated.

"Exactly," Mike chimed in over a mouthful of food. "She could still say yes."

"She could still say no."

"Give the poor girl a chance to answer before you start feeling bad for yourself," Dustin told him, effectively shutting down any argument he could come up with.

The rest of the school day passed in a blur. He would be marked present in class but his mind was elsewhere. Try as he might, he couldn't pull his mind away from her. Or her answer.

By the time he got home he had convinced himself that maybe she never read his question after all. Maybe, in her rush to get to her next class the note had fallen out of her pocket. Maybe tomorrow in class she'd apologize, tell him that she lost it and ask why he wanted to know her plans for prom. Then, of course, he'd have to come up with an excuse. But he'd worry about that when the time came.

Eddie tossed and turned in bed that night. He couldn't get comfortable. And even if he were comfortable, every time he closed his eyes he saw her. That part wasn't wholly unusual. Having a six year long crush will naturally come with a few nights of thinking about the object of your affections. But tonight wasn't like those other nights. Tonight he was all over his small bed because he was afraid. He was afraid of what the morning held for him.

He considered skipping. He could call the school, put on his Uncle Wayne voice and excuse Eddie for the day. But then he'd have to answer to the uncle in question when he got home from work in a few hours. Wayne was the one person in the world Eddie could never lie to, and he didn't feel like having a heart to heart about his ill fated note today.

So he rose from his bed, sheets a mess on the floor after being kicked around all night. His morning routine was purely muscle memory. Pee, brush teeth, brush hair, get dressed, out the door. His mind wasn't in his actions at all. Instead focused on her and that stupid note.

The drive to school suddenly seemed about 60 miles too short as Eddie parked his van in the student section of the parking lot. His hands shook as he pulled his key from the ignition before wrapping his fingers tightly around the steering wheel. If he weren't afraid of Dustin making good on his promise, he might have just left.

He grabbed his notebook and a pen from his passenger seat before kicking open his door. His legs moved him slowly towards the building. His mind buzzed with anxiety as his fingers wrapped around the handle of the front door.

Walking to his classroom felt like the journey to end all journeys. Like walking into Mordor, if you will. His leg bounced beneath the desk as he took his seat. The chain on his wallet shook against the metal leg of the desk with each bounce. Eddie wrapped a fist tightly around the chain to silence it, not wanting to draw attention to his anxious habits.

And suddenly, like a springtime breeze or a rainbow after a summer storm, she was there. The breath seemed to leave Eddie's lungs the instant she passed through the doorway into the loud classroom. Friday mornings were always loud, students making and finalizing weekend plans before the chime of the first bell. He would be lying if he told you that he remembered how to breath immediately and that he didn't have to force himself to inhale.

She smiled at him, her hair bouncing as she stepped towards him. "Good morning, Eddie." She greeted him as she took her seat beside him. He tried to say something back, he really did. But any ability he had ever had to form any words in any language suddenly left him.

His heart raced in his chest as she leaned over, once again rummaging through her backpack. She pulled his pencil out, waving it proudly. "Told ya I'd keep it safe," she giggled. "You want it back?"

Eddie wiped his sweating palms over his thighs as he sat up straight at his desk. A chuckle fell from his lips, but he missed the way her own smile grew at the sound. "Nah," he told her. "All yours." He wanted so badly to be witty. To bust out the ol' Munson family sense of humor. But he just couldn't do it. Every clever thing he'd ever said or known or thought was suddenly gone.

She smiled at him once more before turning back to her bag. She retrieved her text book and notebook, opening both on top of her desk just as the bell rang.

"Okay, class, yesterday we left off…" Mrs. Ballard started her lesson.

He couldn't concentrate if his life depended on it. She hadn't said anything about the note. Maybe he was right. Maybe she dropped it. Or maybe he was right the first thousand times the guys had tried to talk him into asking her out. Maybe it was a no, and she was just too sweet to tell him. Maybe she was trying to figure out how to let him down gently.

The end of his blue ink pen tapped rhythmically on the page of his textbook. He was so deep in thought that he barely registered the hand on his desk. The nails manicured and painted a minty shade of green as they slipped away from the folded piece of paper that now sat beside his textbook.

His hands shook as he lifted the paper. He was slow to open it. Now, after six years of pining, he would have his answer. He wasn't sure he was ready. But it was now or never. He opened the final fold, revealing the back and forth correspondence between them from yesterday. He scanned down the bottom where, in her perfect cursive writing a single word had been added.

Absolutely.

~~~~~

Feedback is always appreciated! Requests are open! Have a great weekend! 🥰 If you'd like to be tagged in my Stranger Things fics, please let me know. I also have individual tag lists for Steve, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, and Steddie.

Tag List: @redwineanddnicotine

Eddie Tag List: @littlemiss-yeehaw @protecteddiemunson4vr @tayhar811

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #Eddie Munson x female oc #eddie munson x oc #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine

[n0t-1nt3r3st1ng]

Vulture!Wednesday AU Part - 5

Wednesday had grown accustomed to her visions by now.

Since the death of her beloved Nero, she had been plagued by flashes of wanton violence and suffering. Her mother had informed her of this gift and its dangers. These visions were triggered by traumatic events, and they showed her similar events from the past, present, or future. Her mother referred to her as a Raven, one who could glimpse into the unseen but only through a dark vitriol. However, once the vision ended, reproducing it was impossible.

Usually, her visions lacked details, but this time was different. She found herself blind to her surroundings, unable to even see her hand in front of her face, let alone discern the path ahead.

Determined to gather more information, Wednesday focused her senses, relying on her gift to guide her. The ground beneath her feet felt solid and smooth, likely concrete. The harsh scent of pulverized stone filled the air, and she could feel the cold wind biting into her skin.

Following the sound of broken bones and blood splashing, she treaded carefully, her mind racing to understand where she was. She stumbled against a steel beam, adding to her theory of being on a construction site or perhaps the aftermath of a bomb's detonation. The wind cleared some of the dust, and she noticed light coming from below, not the ceiling.

Approaching a crooked shadow, the source of the noise, the figure abruptly stood up, revealing its distorted and grotesque form. With limbs of mismatched sizes and a hunched back, it was a chilling sight. The figure quickly disappeared from view, leaving Wednesday to follow cautiously.

As she rounded a corner, her heart sank. There lay the lifeless body, covered in blood, of someone she recognized despite the condition. Enid Sinclair, dead.

Though death was no stranger to Wednesday, Enid's expression was haunting. It wasn't sadness or anger; she looked defeated and hopeless, as if she had accepted her fate. Despite only knowing her for a brief time, Wednesday couldn't help but wonder what had led Enid to this tragic end. The once sweet, sickeningly smile now lost forever, and Wednesday couldn't shake the feeling of sorrow and curiosity over what had destroyed her.

The vision ended, and Wednesday found herself on the cold, stone floor of the tower. Although the visions served their purpose, she detested the aftermath, akin to enduring electroshock therapy without the comforting afterburn.

As her sight cleared, the concerned faces of the radio club members greeted her. She felt something soft behind her head, likely a blazer placed there to make her comfortable.

"Are you alright?" Xavier inquired with genuine concern.

"I'm fine," Wednesday replied, attempting to rise, but she was met with numerous hands gently holding her down.

"Enid went to get the nurse, Wednesday. You need to stay down," Eugene instructed firmly.

"There's no need for it," Wednesday retorted, removing their hands and attempting to stand. She stumbled, but Eugene quickly caught her before anything untoward could happen.

Just then, a notification pinged, and Yoko checked her phone.

"I just got a text from Enid; they're on their way," she informed the group.

Wednesday rolled her eyes, feeling exasperated as the sound of the door opening from the floor below echoed through the tower. Quick steps followed, and as her eyes rolled back into place, she saw an exhausted Enid, staring at her in shock.

"Oh, thank God, you're alright!" Enid exclaimed, her voice a mixture of surprise and relief.

Enid crossed the room with an uncanny swiftness, catching Wednesday off guard as her hand landed on her shoulder. Startled, Wednesday's normally unflinching demeanor faltered for a moment. Few things could surprise Wednesday Addams, and she could easily count them on both hands. Enid had just earned the eleventh spot on that list.

The unexpected touch almost made Wednesday jump in her spot, but she quickly regained her composure, concealing any outward signs of surprise. Enid, ever perceptive, noticed the brief moment of vulnerability and promptly withdrew her hand.

"Sorry." Enid apologized, taking a step back, her expression tinged with guilt.

"I'm afraid I'm the one who should apologize," Wednesday replied.

"Wha-no!" Enid replied, but Wednesday held her hand. She was about to reply when a woman climbed the steps of the tower with heavy breath.

"Enid, I told you to wait!" The woman said out of breath.

Wednesday studied her. While she was currently bending over trying to catch her breath, it was fair to assume she stood at an average height. Her fair complexion carried a healthy glow, a testament to her dedication to promoting well-being. Lines of experience gently etched her face, framing her hazel eyes. Auburn-brown hair cascaded in gentle waves down to her shoulders, pulled back neatly into a bun.

She wore a crisp white lab coat that bore the emblem of the university's health services, signifying her role as a caretaker and medical expert. Underneath the lab coat, she donned a sweater, a pair of jeans, and brown leather shoes. Her only adornment was a delicate silver necklace with a small heart pendant nestled near her collarbone.

"Evie!" Yoko happily greeted the newcomer. Evie, still winded up, was barely able to wave her hand at the vampire.

"I think the nurse might need a nurse," Wednesday deadpanned.

If Evie heard her or cared, she didn't show. Instead, she waited until she caught her breath and was able to stand.

"Okay, where's the injured student?" She asked, her tone and posture swiftly changing to one of professionalism.

The group pointed at Wednesday, who raised her hand.

"Why are you standing? Enid told me you had a seizure of some kind, you shouldn't be standing," Evie demanded.

"I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding," Wednesday replied.

"You bent over like you were about to break, fell to the ground, and rolled your eyes to the back of your head so fast they almost spun," Bianca replied.

Wednesday didn't have the opportunity to reply. As soon as Evie heard what happened, she took Wednesday by the hand, sat her on the couch, and began checking her vitals.

"I assure you, I'm fine," Wednesday said as Evie flashed a light in front of her eyes.

"What's your name? Has this happened before? Do you know if your parents sent your medical history yet?" She fired a series of questions.

"My name," Wednesday swatted Evie's hands off her, "is Wednesday Addams. I didn't experience a seizure, I had a vision."

"An Addams? No wonder you're fine," Evie replied, putting her instruments in her robe.

"Wait, what are you doing? She needs help!" Enid and Eugene panicked. Behind them, Xavier and Bianca sighed, relieved.

"Only an Addams can kill an Addams. Either that or major blunt force trauma," Evie replied and turned to Wednesday. "So, you're a Seer then?"

"Correct," Wednesday nodded.

"Do your visions usually affect you like this?" Evie asked. Wednesday nodded. "I'll put it in your records then. Yoko, remember to drop by tomorrow for your transfusion. Miss Sinclair, try to be calmer next time so I can follow you. You could put an Olympic sprinter to cry."

And with that, the nurse stood up and left, leaving a very confused group of teenagers.

"What kind of nurse is that!?" Eugene all but shouted.

"One who knows her trade," Wednesday replied, standing up again. "I'm afraid in my rush to join you, I neglected to share a piece of information about myself. I'm a Seer, like I explained to the nurse."

"You can see the future," Xavier said. Wednesday noted he hadn't asked, he had stated. He rushed to clarify. "Rowan told me my mother is the same."

Interesting, Wednesday noted and saved the information for later.

"So, what did you see?" Yoko asked, intrigued.

"Yoko!" Enid chided her.

"What, she touched you, got a vision, and we can't ask?" The vampire replied defensively.

"My vision had nothing to do with her. It was a coincidence," Wednesday replied. She noticed the small relief the information brought to Enid.

"So what, we have to keep an eye in case you get struck by a vision whenever you're here and make sure you don't crack your head open?" Bianca asked.

"My talents won't affect my performance," Wednesday assured her. "And regarding my personal health, you heard the nurse. My family is notoriously resilient."

"Sure, whatever, I'm not comfortable with this," Bianca replied.

Xavier and Enid quickly jumped to her defense, but it was Eugene, much to everyone's surprise, who ended the argument.

"We don't discriminate against people based on their powers, Bianca," he said in a tone which left no room for argument.

Bianca raised her hands in defeat and left. Kent followed closely behind her with their backpacks.

"Don't worry about it, we were just surprised," Eugene replied. Wednesday gave him a thankful nod.

"Okay, that was too much for the day. Enid and I have to go, there's a storm brewing outside, and you know how puppies get," Yoko clapped her hands, startling the group. Enid opened her mouth to reply, but the vampire had grabbed her by the arm and pushed her downstairs before she could utter a sound.

"I think I'm going too," Ajax said. Wednesday had completely forgotten about Beany Boy.

"Why don't you go too, Wednesday?" Eugene said. "You can check it on Monday, when you're better."

She wanted to retort, but Xavier spoke before she could.

"I'll take her to her room," he volunteered.

"I don't lie in the school." As far as witty replies go, it left much to be desired. "But I understand your concern, I'll come back another day."

She left before any of them could add or reply.

The skies outside had turned a dark grey, and lightning rumbled across the clouds. She dashed towards the car and drove away. The sight of Xavier impotently waving at her in the rearview mirror brought a smile to her face.

All in all, today had been an interesting day, to say the least. New people, new challenges, a mystery. Still, it wasn't why she was there.

Thing greeted her at the door. 

She nodded to the hand and went straight to the basement. They had cleared up the stretchers and old medical equipment and sent them to the family. She had missed a few birthdays, after all.

Now, in the privacy of her house, Wednesday took white chalk and began to draw on the floor while Thing brought her other supplies. A good, reliable magical circle took far longer than movies would have led people to believe. All it took was one mistake to make the energies explode. She had chosen a pentacle as the symbol for the circle. With five sides representing the forces of air, earth, water, fire, and spirit, it was the most stable of the forms.

She then took a map of the city Thing had brought her and spread it inside. In her right hand, she held a mesmerizing quartz crystal, suspended from a delicate silver chain. The quartz glowed with an otherworldly luminescence, pulsing in sync with Wednesday's heartbeat.

With a graceful movement, Wednesday lifted the quartz and allowed it to sway gently on its silver tether. As she did so, her voice resonated through the chamber, speaking in a tongue long forgotten by the world but eternally remembered by the forces of magic.

"Per ignem et terram, per ventum et aquam, vestigia secreta invenio, quae abscondita sunt revelabo."

Her words cascaded like notes of an ethereal melody, evoking the essence of the elements themselves. The quartz responded, casting ephemeral trails of light upon the map, forming intricate patterns that mirrored the city's layout. The magic circle beneath her feet glowed with newfound intensity, its power amplifying the spell's effect. Wednesday closed her eyes, channeling her focus and delving deeper into the weaving of the spell. The quartz crystal began to rotate slowly, as if guided by an unseen hand, seeking a resonance with hidden energies.

Then, as soon as it started, it launched itself against the map. Wednesday opened her eyes and frowned. The quartz started to slowly drag itself across the map, and the frown deepened. She hunched over and studied the map, making sure to leave the quartz chain extended long enough for the mineral to move as she tried to understand what was happening.

Her frown turned into a smile once she realized what she was looking at.

Wednesday Addams was about to rob a train.

#wednesday au #vulture!wednesday #wednesday addams #wenclair #spider!enid

[fangirlingsss]

Girls Club | Chapter 1

Chapter 1 | Polaroid Pictures

Eleonora’s  POV

Hi Nora!

France is great! I’ve had such a great time so far. The pastries we get each morning have got to be my favorite thing ever! I can’t wait to get home and get a room to myself again. though I didn’t think sharing with Hermione would be this bad. I think she’s mad that mum and dad want me to go to Diagon Alley with her when she goes to meet her friends.

Speaking of which! They’re going this Wednesday. I was thinking we could meet up with Rory and get our shopping done together! It would be great to catch up with you two before term starts. You should owl her about it! I can’t get an owl out here to send a letter. to do it myself.

I get home on Sunday so you can owl me after then. Can’t wait to see you!

xoxo Catherine! 

Eleonora smiled as she read over the postcard from her friend. The front had a picture of an amazing view of the Eiffel Tower. The side with the message had an extra piece of paper taped to it, to fit the long message. A piece of ribbon laid discarded on the desk in front of her, it had once held the letter together.

There was also a small polaroid picture attached to the postcard. The picture was of Catherine smiling wildly, her dark curly hair framed her face perfectly. She held a steaming cup of coffee, while sitting at a cafe in front of the Eiffel Tower. It was a regular muggle picture but Catherine’s happiness radiated from the picture. 

A soft knock pulled Eleonora out of her thoughts and she turned her head towards the door.

“Eleonora?” a muffled voice from the other side said. “I’m making breakfast, some toast with scrambled eggs. Let me know soon if you’d like some,” the faint footsteps echoed through the hallway as the man left. 

Eleonora stood over her desk, still looking over the picture of her friend. After a moment of deliberation the blonde girl grabbed the postcard and a quill before leaving for the kitchen. She walked out of her room and took a left down the hallway. She could hear shuffling around in the kitchen, as well as the radio playing some muggle news station. 

“Goodmorning Remus,” Eleonora said when she entered the kitchen. 

The kitchen wasn’t very large. Simple brown cabinets littered the right side of the room. Remus stood by the stove, preparing the scrambled eggs. The large window across from the entrance of the kitchen made the room feel slightly larger than it really was and at this time of day it was letting in plenty of sunlight. She walked past him towards the table in front of the window and placed her things down before joining Remus next to the stove. 

“Good Morning Nora,” the older man smiled towards the girl. He took his eyes away from the scrambled eggs and glanced towards the blonde to see what she was rummaging for. “Are you looking for anything?”

“Yeah,” Eleonora mumbled. She pulled an inkwell out of the drawer and grabbed a few loose pieces of paper off the counter. “Found it!” she cheered and smiled towards Remus. She raised her findings in the air in victory and walked back towards the table. “I have to write Catherine back,” Eleonora explained once she took a seat. 

Eleonora wrote out her response to Catherine. Remus walked around the kitchen, finishing up breakfast and setting a plate in front of the blonde and another plate in front of the seat across from her. 

“There have been no sightings of escaped murderer Sirius Black,” a voice on the radio announced. Remus froze. Coffee pot in hand he stood there waiting for any other news. 

Eleonora didn’t know much about the convict. She only knew that he was in fact an escaped prisoner from Azkaban and not from a muggle prison. She also knew that he had killed a bunch of muggles during the wizarding war. Remus didn’t answer any of her questions about Black. 

Eleonora had a strong feeling that Remus did in fact know something. However he was never one to talk when it came to the events of the war. A pained expression would only cross his face and he’d say “There’s no point in dwelling on the past.” That frustrated her to no end. Especially when she asked about her family. Remus would promise that he’d tell her everything one day but that day never seemed to arrive. 

The radio clipped out, drawing Eleonora’s attention back to the present. Remus went back to filling two mugs with coffee, making a point to fill one of them with mostly milk. He wasn’t very keen on Eleonora drinking coffee. He thought she wasn’t quite old enough.

“Is Catherine back from France yet?” Remus asked in an attempt to lighten the tension in the room. 

“She gets home on Sunday,” Eleonora said and passed the picture of her friend to Remus. “We’re planning a shopping trip for Wednesday,” the blonde tapped the edge of the table, glancing towards Remus for a response. “We want to get our school supplies,” she added.

“Sounds like a fun time,” Remus smiled and took another bite of his eggs. “As long as you stay in Diagon Alley and get home at a reasonable time,” he added sternly, pointing a fork in her direction.

“Of course!” Eleonora responded cheerfully. Ever since the news of Sirius Black escaping Remus had been anxious about letting Eleonora out on her own. It had made Remus slightly more overprotective than usual. “I’ll be sure to be home before dark,” Eleonora reassured and took a sip of her coffee. 

The two continued to eat their breakfast in silence. Only the clatter of utensils and a quill scratching on a piece of paper could be heard. 

“I should be out for work,” Remus said as he took his last sip of coffee. “I’ll be home around six as always,” he added and placed his dishes in the sink.

 With a wave of his wand the dishes began to clean themselves and soon enough they were also being dried off and put away in their respective places. Eleonora couldn’t help but stare at the casual use of magic. It made her excited about going back to school, and even more excited to turn seventeen in sixth year. 

“I’ll just be home,” Eleonora groaned. “Writing my letters,” she waved a hand around at her predicament. “Maybe I’ll get around to finishing the Handmaid's tale,” she added. 

“I’ll see you later,” Remus smiled and placed a kiss on top of her head before heading out of the kitchen to gather his things for work.

Remus had mentioned to Eleonora that he was looking for another job, yet again. He was still waiting for an interview. However the past couple months he had managed to keep a job at a muggle post office. Unfortunately his employer was starting to get frustrated with him for his frequent days off. In Eleonora’s opinion two or three days out of the month didn’t seem too bad but Remus only chuckled at this comment. 

Eleonora took the remainder of the morning to finish her letter to Catherine, as well as the second one for Rory. Much to her annoyance she also had to wash her own dishes by hand. After drying the dishes she walked towards the kitchen window.

The window looked out into a small courtyard area. It was surrounded from both sides with buildings, only allowing access for those who lived in the buildings. The courtyard was empty, except for a few stray cats chasing each other. Eleonora opened the window to take a better look at the cats fighting on the ground floor.

“Chip!” Eleonora yelled out towards the cats. “Chip knock it off!” she yelled again, this time gaining one of the cats attention. The white cat took another swipe at the tabby cat before letting out a loud meow and making its way towards the second floor window. Soon enough the white cat made its way towards the windowsill beside Eleonora. 

“There you are,” Eleonora said and gave the cat a little scratch behind his ear. Chip purred quietly and nuzzled his face further into the blonde’s palm. 

Chip was a skinny white cat. The only markings he had were a brown spot around his eye and a brown strip around his tail. One of his ears was half missing. Eleonora wasn’t sure what had happened to him. She had been taking care of him for the past three years and during her fourth year she had even brought him to Hogwarts although she wasn’t quite sure what he was up to most of the time. 

“Instead of getting into fights with the alley cats go and look for Erwin,” Eleonora nudged the cat. “Bring him back here, I have a letter for him,” she said. Chip nuzzled against her palm one more time and meows before leaving to look for the barn owl. 

Eleonora quickly addressed each letter, preparing each one appropriately. When Erwin arrived back at the windowsill Eleonora scratched the top of his head and placed a sickle in the pouch around his leg, and attached the letter for Rory. Erwin was about to fly off but Chip couldn’t let him leave without trying to swipe at the owl.

“Chip!” Eleonora groaned, pulling the cat inside and closing the window behind the owl. “Why do you have to be like that,” she scolded and placed the cat back on the floor.

“Now I know Remus probably wouldn’t be too happy with me leaving unannounced,” Eleonora spoke to Chip and walked out to the living room. “However Catherine is still in France so I can’t owl her and I’ll be gone only an hour at most,” she added, a mischievous grin making its way onto her face. “You won’t tell him, right?” However all Chip could do is meow and watch as Eleonora walked out the front door.

~~~

A/N: This is the first chapter of a new story I have started. You can check it out on ao3 under the same title and author! Let me know if you want me to continue posting here as well!

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #george weasley #fred weasley #remus lupin #sirius black #ginny weasley #ron weasley #hermione granger #cedric diggory #ao3 #ao3fanfiction #Harry Potter one shot #Fred Weasley fanfic #fred Weasley fan fiction #fred x female oc

[izdatazn]

Welcome to S.U.I.T.S: Initiation By Fire

TERRAN 6 - DAY 1 TOURNAMENT

"I believe you just dislocated my shoulder," I stated, frustration evident in my voice. “Again." Today is Wednesday, January 7th, 2079.

"What? That's nonsense," Shiro replied dismissively. "Get up and try again."

"How can I when you're stepping on me?" I struggled to remove his foot from my chest. Shiro took a step back and extended his hand towards me. I grabbed it, allowing him to pull me up before he pushed me against a wall. Sensei wasted no time in attacking me before I even reached the wall. I managed to block a few of Sensei's punches, but then he landed one on my knee and followed it with another to my chest.

I hit the wall with force, feeling the impact reverberate through my body as Sensei grabbed hold of my neck and lifted me off the ground. Desperately, I tried to pry his hand away from my throat. After struggling for a few seconds, Sensei released his grip and stepped back.

"Good job," Sensei acknowledged before walking away.

What did I do that was worthy of praise? The past few day had been nothing but getting beaten by this random stranger. Lying on the floor for several minutes, catching my breath, I finally managed to stand up. "Are you sure about that?" I asked cautiously.

Sensei threw something at me without even looking back at me. Reacting quickly, I sidestepped to avoid whatever was coming towards me. A loud thud echoed as the object struck the wall behind where I had been standing – it was a kitchen knife lodged into the wall.

Sensei spoke confidently without turning around: "Pretty sure." Then sensei continued facing forward: "But that throw was slow; your sensory perception and close combat skills have improved over these past couple of weeks."

"Well then, it seems like I won't be ready for whatever is going to happen in a tomorrow."

"Don't worry. I don't think anyone stronger than me will appear during the track and field competition," Sensei reassured me.

"So, you mean someone weaker than you but stronger than me will show up and probably end up killing me," I sarcastically replied.

"Something like that."

"That's reassuring," I muttered sarcastically.

"I have confidence in you." Sensei approached me.

"Thanks?" I coughed. "I guess?" Brushing aside his hand, I took my time to get back on my feet. "So what now? Because I'm feeling the pain again."

"Well, training is over. You need to prepare for that big tournament with your girlfriend of yours.”

“Asuka’s not my girlfriend.” I answered, at least not officially.

“Mmm, from what I saw a few days ago, I doubt it.” He nonchalantly said.

I quickly changed subject."When is the next lesson?"

"You'll find out," Sensei vanished.

“Typical."

Dressed in my school track and field uniform, I made my way to school on the weekend with a sore arm. Today is Saturday, January 10th, 2079. There were numerous bruises concealed beneath my clothing. Sensei knew exactly where to strike so that it wouldn't appear as though I was being abused by someone, or even worse... by my own family. It was early morning as I headed straight to school, when suddenly Sho tapped me on the head and joined me on our walk.

I let out a yawn. "You're quite energetic in the morning."

"You don't know what day it is?" Sho enthusiastically tapped my shoulder.

"I do, but can't you save your energy for after school when it's actually going to happen?"

As I arrived at our school and came to a stop, my gaze was immediately captivated by a grand banner adorning the main building. However, it wasn't just the banner that grabbed my attention - students from all grade levels were energetically cheering both outside the entrance and within the classrooms. The school had closed down for an entire week in celebration of this extraordinary event. The top-notch track and field clubs from all over the country had gathered for this prestigious occasion, as it held significant importance each year with third-year students being scouted by universities. It still astonishes me how some esteemed schools can host such extravagant sports events.

Kumiko, Saki, and Nanako joined us near the entrance.

"They seem to become more flashy every year," Nanako remarked as she walked away.

"To stay in shape, of course," Saki replied while following her. "And maybe flirt with some good-looking boys from other schools."

Sho joined them. "Same here! But also to meet some girls!"

Kumiko let out a sigh. "I still can't believe Saki has the audacity to say that." She glanced at me. "How's your training going with Master Shiro?"

"Unfulfilling," I responded as I stretched my other arm.

"You'll get used to it," she said before walking away. "Good luck!"

"Same to you.”

Saitama North is currently hosting the weeklong national track and field tournament, which is held annually by various schools. As we achieved second place in the regionals a few months ago, our school was awarded the opportunity to host this prestigious event. The host school changes each year.

Throughout the summer season, Local tournaments take place, followed by Sectionals at the end of summer, Regionals towards the end of the year, and Nationals in mid-February before exams commence in March. Track and Field holds significant importance as a major sporting event in this country. The renowned schools outshine other sports tournaments with their extravagant expenditure on facilities and resources.

I met up with Hideki and Sho on the rooftop of our school, observing the spectators hurry inside and the competing teams arriving in their buses. 

Sho, while scrolling through his phone, mentioned a talented pole vaulter from Chiba East Technical High School. "I wonder if he will be here with his teammates," Sho wondered aloud.

Hideki replied, "In addition to their male pole vault event, Chiba East's female hurdlers also won gold at Regionals. Kanazawa West Law Prestigious High School is participating in triple jump, relay races, and distance track events. Although Kanazawa West usually dominates these categories at Regionals, they always come third in Nationals."

South Yokohama Law High School stands out as they excel both in sports and academics, ranking first overall. It's amazing that Asuka got recruited by them. Saitama North, Kanazawa West, and Chiba West follow behind in the national rankings. These schools are all located in Tokyo; schools outside of Tokyo come after them.

This tournament showcases 32 schools competing, with an additional invite extended to a Fukuoka school.

Nanako and Kumiko joined us on the rooftop, bringing along some light snacks.

Nanako expressed her confusion, saying, "I don't understand why this tournament generates more excitement than the Olympics simply because one of the few prestigious schools hosts it."

Hideki was engrossed in reading historical information on his phone. "Based on my findings," he shared, scrolling through the screen, "the 'Slots Competition' was initially established by the Four Prestigious Schools in Tokyo during the 1950s as a local event. As years passed, it gained national popularity, with other prestigious schools outside of Tokyo also getting the opportunity to host. However, many still hold a preference for 'The Four Prestigious Schools' due to their extravagant reputation."

"We have some intriguing teams from Okinawa and Hokkaido participating in the tournament," I chimed in. "From what I've heard, this is their second time taking part in the national tournament. They must be thrilled."

"I'm really excited to see Saki outperform her competition," Hina exclaimed with enthusiasm as she and Saki joined us on the rooftop. "The atmosphere of this tournament fills me with anticipation."

"You should take a cue from Hina, Nanako," Sho teased, smirking. "Be more enthusiastic."

"Don't make me hurt you," Nanako firmly retorted.

As their conversation continued, my attention shifted towards Asuka and her team entering the school premises. Without hesitation, I quickly stood up and hurried towards them. Descending the stairs and rushing through the door, I caught up to Asuka just before she walked past me.

"What's the rush all of a sudden?" she asked, curiosity evident in her voice. I could see her in my line of sight.

"It's been so long since we last saw each other after that incident," I replied, gasping for breath. "Are you purposely avoiding me?"

Playfully punching my chest, Asuka affectionately responded, "Are you crazy? Why would I avoid my best friend?" Our eyes met, and she gave me a warm smile to reassure me. I nodded.

"Asuka?" I turned around to find Kumiko standing behind us. She joined our conversation and stood close beside me, firmly gripping my arm. "It's been a while, Asuka. Let's give it our best today." She smiled at her.

I continued to lock eyes with Asuka as she stared at us with a warm smile. However, knowing her for a long time, I could tell she was trying hard not to notice Kumiko holding onto my arm. It wasn't noticeable to anyone else but myself as she continued talking to Kumiko; however, inside she was fuming just from observing where her gaze was focused.

Our conversation was interrupted by someone wrapping his arm around Asuka's neck - it was Asuka's team leader joining us. I watched as he placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Hey there, Issei!" he shouted. "Ready for your team to get crushed?" He laughed and then turned towards Kumiko with a wink. "Kumiko, I've heard you've been training hard for this event! Let's do our best today." Kumiko simply nodded at him.

Asuka subtly shrugged off his arm from her shoulder and took a step aside. "Anyway, I'll see you later," she said as she walked away without looking back."See you around Kobayashi." He walked away too but then rejoined Asuka by wrapping his arm around her shoulder, only to have her brusquely shrug him away.

I despise that person so incredibly much.

The competition has commenced, marking the beginning of an entirely different atmosphere from just a few hours ago. The once empty benches are now occupied by eager spectators as 32 top schools from across the nation vie for a coveted spot in the top 10. This tournament is being broadcasted nationwide, allowing those unable to attend in person to witness the action live.

Although I may not agree with Hanako's comment, I am thoroughly enjoying the vibrant atmosphere of this tournament in my otherwise mundane life. As the announcer takes center stage and begins with a grand introduction, my team and I join others on the field. My attention subtly shifts to my left, where Asuka's team stands beside us. By sheer coincidence, she is positioned right next to me, making it nearly impossible for me to resist stealing glances at her. Perhaps she feels the same way too.

After the extravagant performance concludes, I turned to face Asuka but Sho grabbed my attention from her and pulled me away from her when I was suppose to greet my competitors.

"Have you checked the school's social media?" Sho asks curiously while holding his phone.

"What do you mean?" I respond inquisitively.

Sho shares his phone with me. There is a single photo of Asuka and me standing near the school entrance with a caption that reads 'The School Prince and the Wind Beauty Reunite?!' Real-time comments speculate about our relationship status as a couple. Sho swipes to another photo which shows Kumiko joining us with a caption that says 'A Love Triangle Between The School Prince and The Wind Beauty?' More students are buzzing about this image in their comments. Sho then swipes again to show Asuka's club leader unexpectedly joining in on the conversation under a headline that reads 'What Is This Intense Rivalry?' This particular post generates even more buzz and becomes popular on top of all school social media discussions.

Feeling annoyed, I confront Sho about being the one who took the photo. He chuckles and admits his guilt. "So, when are you planning to ask her out?" he jokes.

Confused by his comment, I respond irritably, "I don't even understand what you mean."

"Don't act oblivious, Kobayashi," Sho whispers. "Everyone knows that both of you have feelings for each other, including the entire student body from both schools. Whenever she's around, your attention is solely on her. Both of you are refusing to acknowledge the truth."

"Drop it," I reply as I walk away. "Right now, my priority is to concentrate on this tournament.”

The tournament proceeded throughout the day, with The Top Four emerging victorious in the first round of competition. I secured second place in the long jump and third place in the javelin throw. Unfortunately, our rival claimed first place in both events. What's even more frustrating is that their team leader was responsible for snatching those victories away from me.

Moving on to the main track event, I found myself grouped for the 100m sprint and the 4x100 relay race. It came as no surprise when I discovered that our rival's team leader was also selected for the same group as me. His name is Aikawa Eiji, a long-standing annoyance since Asuka joined their school and my personal rival in track and field.

Aikawa exudes confidence, thanks to his parents' background as former Olympic athletes and their ability to afford top-of-the-line equipment. Additionally, his exceptional performances have caught the attention of scouts for the upcoming Olympic games.

As I stood on the track with my group, preparing for my event, Aikawa stood beside me as we stretched. I tried not to let it bother me, but his presence was undoubtedly irritating, even though he hadn't said a word to me.

"Kobayashi," Aikawa spoke up. "Do you mind if I steal Asuka away from you?"

"Dream on," I replied.

"If you don't make your move first, I will," Aikawa chuckled. "And then I'll take first place in both events." He smirked confidently.

Finally, our group took our positions and patiently waited. Despite the noise from the spectators, I focused solely on one sound - the referee's starting pistol. Trying my best to calm my nerves, I anticipated the shot from the pistol. After a brief pause, the referee fired it and instantly all eight track members representing different schools sprinted off in a race for 100 meters.

I quickly outpaced every other competitor as I sprinted towards the finish line, with Aikawa closely trailing behind me. Triumphantly crossing over the end mark, I secured first place in this initial round of 100 meters, with Aikawa finishing just a second later in second place. Cheers erupted in the stadium as I struggled to catch my breath.

"Keep it up, Issei," Aikawa said breathlessly. "I might have to work my way up to take first place in the final race and win over your beautiful friend." He walked away.

Once again, my team secured first place in the 4x100 male relay race, leaving Aikawa's team in second place. I was filled with excitement and this feeling probably stemmed from my determination to outperform Aikawa. 

Our next challenge was the first 4x100 mixed relay race, featuring Kumiko, Nanako, Sho, and myself pitted against Aikawa and Asuka's team. Referred to as 'The Quadruple Threat' by our fellow students due to our synchronized teamwork and ability to outpace most of our competitors. Personally, I dislike the name but if it keeps the school media buzzing then why not go along with it?

In terms of race positioning, Nanako took the lead, followed by Sho, Kumiko, and finally myself. Similarly, Asuka's group had Asuka in third position engaging in a brief contest with Kumiko while I raced against Aikawa once again during the final sprint. Undoubtedly, this event will generate buzz on our school's social media platforms for several weeks despite being only the first round.

"We meet again, Kobayashi," Aikawa spoke. I didn't respond as my focus was solely on winning this event as well.

We took our positions as the referee fired a shot from their starter pistol and all eight track members sprinted off. Nanako slightly led in first place before falling behind to second place. She passed the baton to Sho who raced off with determination and managed to stay on par with his competitor. He gained a slight lead as he passed the baton to Kumiko. She sprinted alongside Asuka; they were neck and neck. Aikawa and I jogged lightly forward until we felt the baton touch our hands. We sprinted towards the finish line side by side and crossed it together, appearing as if we tied for first place. As we waited for the replay on the monitor, it became evident that Aikawa had taken first place by a small margin.

Aikawa laughed confidently and said, "See you tomorrow the next round, Kobayashi." He walked away while I threw my baton in frustration before placing my hands on my hips.

Day one concluded with a sense of awe as the top four participants progressed to the next round in the relay races. Despite dealing with bothersome competitors, I felt satisfied with my performance.

Once I gathered my belongings, I headed towards the water fountain to refill my water bottle. As I arrived, I saw Asuka standing there, wiping off the sweat accumulated throughout the day. She spotted me shortly after and motioned for me to join her.

"You did great today," complimented Asuka as she threw her damp towel towards me. Reacting swiftly, I caught it and used it to wipe away my own perspiration. Afterward, I rinsed my face using the faucet before refilling my water bottle.

"You guys are always in excellent shape," I chuckled.

"The same goes for you," responded Asuka. "Congratulations on securing first place in the 100m first round. It must have been challenging competing against Aikawa." With that, she reached for my water bottle and took a sip before tossing it back to me. "Hey, do you want to go to Hokkaido with me after this?"

"What's the reason?" I asked as I turned off the faucet and walked away with her.

"Because of our busy track and field competition and exams schedule, I thought it would be fun to go on a trip," she answered. “Just the two of us.”

"Hmm, sounds like fun,"I replied. We noticed our friends waiting for us at the school entranceway.

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Wednesday, April 19

BUFFY: We can't actually do any of those things. You'd lose your soul. And besides, I don't even own a kimono.

~~Enemies~~

The Sunnydale Herald is looking for at least one new editor. Contributing to the Herald is a great way to get your Buffy on! Find out more here.

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Out Of The Rain by badly_knitted (Buffy/Angel, PG)

Recruiting Reinforcements by madimpossibledreamer (multi xover, Xander/Leon, T)

About Angel... by ladyemma42 (Buffy/Spike, T)

Unsolicited Dating Advice from an Ex-Demon by AJ Fields (myfanfiction) (Buffy, Anya, others, T)

One Bourbon, One Scotch... by TheScholarlyStrumpet (equipoise) (Buffy/Giles, M)

Six Views of Buffy Summers by a2zmom (Scoobies, G)

let's go to the mall by goldfinch806 (Buffy, Joyce, T)

souls, blooming like flowers by Rakhel (multi, inc Buffy/Spike/Giles, T)

Diásosi by SomeKindOfADeviant (Spike/Drusilla, T)

Hotter than Hell by TeaTime4BeeTime (Giles/Reader, E)

Second Chance by Wordstreamer (Faith, Spike, Not Rated)

Mortal Issues by Wordstreamer (Illyria, Spike, G)

Le monologue. by AngelicaR2 (French, Tara/Willow, T)

A quelques secondes près. by AngelicaR2 (French, Tara/Willow, T)

Ne me laisse pas. by AngelicaR2 (French, Tara/Willow, T)

Intersecting by SomeKindOfADeviant (Angel/Spike, T)

A Butterfly Dream of Sand and Sky by seraphcelene (Tara, Buffy, others, G)

About Angel... by Lady Emma (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Frenzy by simmony (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

About Angel... by Lady Emma (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

[Chaptered Fiction]

"I made a promise to a lady" - Ch. 1-14 by GraqtheWildChild2 (Buffy/Spike, M)

Sans hésitation ( fic, en cours) 2023 - Ch. 1-2 by oOoPlumeStilinskioOo (French, Graham Miller/OFC, Buffy/Riley, M)

It Was Rare, I Was There - Ch. 1 by Karnstein1989 (sinomin) (Willow/Faith, T)

Snippets - Ch. 1 by MaggieLaFey (Buffy/Spike, E)

Buffy the Sims Player - Ch. 1 by HarlowTurner_1 (ensemble, The Sims xover, T)

UnExpected (A Buffy/Potter Crossover) - Ch. 1 by amerie_fanfic (Buffy, Harry Potter xover, T)

The darkness purrs - Ch. 1-9 by desicat (Buffy/Spike, G) COMPLETE!

Fade Into You - Ch. 1 by EmilytheSlayer (Buffy/Faith, M)

Game of Tag - Ch. 1 by watcherless (Buffy/Faith, E)

Vernalagnia - Ch. 1-30 by violettathepiratequeen (Buffy/Spike, G) COMPLETE!

The Scooby’s Auxiliary Fight Club (& Support Group) - Ch. 1 by My_Barbaric_Yawp (Buffy/Spike, M)

The Neighbor's Point of View - Ch. 2 by the_big_bad (Buffy/Spike, PG)

So One of Us is Living - Ch. 8 by violettathepiratequeen (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Unconditional - Ch. 3 by Blade Redwind (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Now That I Saw You - Ch. 26-30 by scratchmeout (NC-17, !COMPLETE!)

The Key Saves Spuffy - Ch. 19 by Dynamite (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Under The Rubble - Ch. 18 by Geliot99 (Buffy/Spike, R)

Seven - Ch. 43 by Holly (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

We're Going to be Friends - Ch. 1 by scratchmeout (Buffy/Spike, R)

The Witch's Gift - Ch. 7 by RavenLove12 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Bound - Ch. 41 by RavenLove12 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Those 2 again - Ch. 7 by Julikobold (Buffy/Spike, G)

42 - Ch. 19 by Dynamite (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Back Through the Woods - Ch. 8 by desicat (Buffy/Spike, R)

The Suite - Ch. 6 by hulettwyo (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only)

Dawn Rising - Ch. 1 by Luna (Buffy, LOTR xover, FR15)

Echoes of Beljoxa - Ch. 49 by myrabeth (Buffy/Spike, 18+)

Step to the past - Ch. 1 by Nikkilou2026 (Buffy/Spike, 13+)

These Endless Days - Ch. 6 by violettathepiratequeen (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

We're Going to be Friends - Ch. 1 by scratchmeout (Buffy/Spike, R)

Dawn the Vampire Slayer - Ch. 1-2 by LJ94 (Buffy/Spike, R)

I'm Fine - Ch. 3 by Grief Counseling (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

The Home Invasions - Ch. 7 by VeroNyxK84 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Postcards and Snapshots by TheSunnySlayer (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Those 2 again by Julikobold (Buffy/Spike, G)

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork: BTVS “Every Outfit” “Smashed” Xx by whatshisfaceblogs (Buffy, worksafe)

Artwork: [sketch by Logan Crespel] posted by gothamstreetcat (Lilah, Wesley, NSFW)

Artwork: FickleWick Draws by ficklewick (Spike, worksafe)

Headers: BtVS Season 2 headers by onegirlinallthewrld (Buffy, Kendra, worksafe)

Icons: Faith Lehane icons [includes comics] by onegirlinallthewrld (Faith, worksafe)

Artwork: Like One Of Your French Girls - Ch. 4 by almondcat (Buffy/Spike, NSFW)

Artwork: Somewhere Over the Rainbow - Ch. 1 by ClowniestLivEver (Buffy/Spike, worksafe)

[Reviews & Recaps]

Episode 1: Welcome to the Hellmount by lifeofzmzm

PODCAST: 5.12 You're Welcome by Angel on Top

PODCAST: Lilah. Icon. - Angel S04E12 - Calvary by Pop Culture Role Call

[Community Announcements]

POLL RESULTS: The Buffyverse characters tournament is officially over and... Buffy Summers [is] the winner!!! by all-seeing-ifer

[Fandom Discussions]

Ask: [positives about Xander] by wolfstrong

Ask: do you ship spike with drusilla or buffy? by veraynes-blog

[Buffy was also violated by the monks when they made Dawn.] by three-blogs-in-a-trenchcoat

i like to think that spike secretly revels in his british-ness because he gets to call buffy... by silvermars

In "The Body", Buffy... calls the one person... by mycatismyfriend

I actually don't read too much spuffy fanfic... by kingbuffy

It's honestly a struggle sometimes to fight against my Buffy bias when I'm analyzing the show. by kingbuffy

[In Seeing Red - discussion about Dawn knowing Buffy slept with Spike and how Willow didn't know] by girl4music

I don’t know why, but no matter what the summary of the fic is when I see Faith/Tara... by confusedguytoo

what if instead of Spike being the one helping in s5 it was Faith? by annieofhearts

[a version of Angel ATS season 3 where darla survives...] by all-seeing-ifer

Ultimate Alloaro Character — Redemption Round 1 Eliminations Candidates: Buffy by alloarocharactershowdown

If Cordelia had stuck around for season 4... Cordy X Spike? updated by Sinmerina

Drusilla's character is amazing by dragonsrawesomesauce

Do you think Spike would have known? [if he was in Riley's place in 4x16] by sushibananawater

What are some canon character nicknames? by theredacer

Kate's speech at her Father's retirement party [ATS] is one of the most heartbreaking moments for me in all of the Buffyverse by KneeHighMischief

Kate - Season 3 [plan for Kate if she had stayed] by FalseStage2348

Ideas I have for a (hypothetical) Buffy Spin-off by Seer77887

Did anyone wonder why Buffy didn't die after being skewered in the final fight? by aeryn1227

POLL: Who annoyed Giles the most? (Maggie Walsh not included, main characters only😂) by OOpening_Knowledge868

POLL: Who was smarter? [Angel vs Spike] by OAJ_Babe

Baffled about the visibility of demons/the supernatural (SPOILERS) by challengeaccepted9

At what age would you introduce [kids] to the show [ATS]? by AJ_Babe

[Articles, Interviews, and Other News]

Sarah Michelle Gellar is Not Involved in 'Cruel Intentions' Reboot - Variety interview

Charisma Carpenter and James Marsters to Attend Pensacon 23-25 February 2024 [Pensacola FL] via dontkillspike

Charisma Carpenter and James Marsters to Attend Comic Con Yorkshire 3-4 June via dontkillspike

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

#ats #angel the series #btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #fan fiction #meta #fan art

[corkcitylibraries]

Echoes of our Past | March 17th 1923

Librarian Richard Forrest takes a look at news highlights published in The Echo 100 years ago this week.

Festival Observations

The weather was delightfully fine for the National Festival with the shamrock and harp abundant. Large numbers of people wore flags sold in the streets to support the language movement. All the masses in the city were well attended and a spirit of devotion was everywhere manifested. High Mass was sung at the Cathedral at noon which members of the Corporation (City Council) attended. Subsequently his Lordship the Bishop briefly addressed its members in the Presbytery. At the Military Barracks the troops were paraded and the new colours presented to the Southern area. They were blessed along with the national tri-colour by the Very Rev. Dr. Scannell, Chaplain to the forces. The national flag was then hoisted by Major-General Reynolds and the troops marched passed giving the salute.

Latest Tragedy

Yesterday evening, William Beale, 53 and unmarried, was returning home to Elm Grove, Ballyvolane when he was shot and seriously wounded. Mr. Beale was unaware that he was being followed by two men until he had almost reached his gate. He then heard the men approach swiftly and was about to turn around when they challenged him. Before he could reply he was shot at point blank range from revolvers. The perpetrators stated that the act was “a reprisal for the execution” and immediately disappeared. Mr. Beale was hit in three places and removed to the South Infirmary and operated on. One bullet entered his back, perforating the intestines in three places and exited through the abdomen. There were two further wounds in the arm. A member of a well-known Cork family, Mr. Beale has always been a most inoffensive gentleman and took no part whatsoever in politics. (William Beale died on March 20th).

News Round

National Troops fighting Irregulars at McGillycuddy’s Reeks captured an injured ex-R.I.C. man. He died shortly after capture. In Dublin, troops captured an Irregular named James Donovan. Described as “Director of Chemicals”, Donovan had been engaged for some time past in smuggling explosive materials from England. The Evening Herald was suppressed briefly to-day by order of the Government. The 6 a.m. mail train from Ballina to Dublin was saved from disaster by the pluck of a farmer’s daughter. On board were 14 National Officers, five wounded men and some civilians. The rails had been lifted spanning a river at Foxford and the brave girl, waving a green flag, brought it to a standstill within a yard of the abyss. The dead body of Nicholas Corcoran, an Irregular leader shot on Wednesday was on board being conveyed to his native place in Galway for burial.

International Snippets

A serious railway accident is reported from the Crefeld district, Germany where a French troop train collided with a goods train. The carriages were completely telescoped and forty soldiers are stated to have been killed. An earthquake with its centre in the Adriatic Sea caused serios damage on the Dalmatian coast, particularly at Ragusa (Dubrovnik). The French Government has laid before the Chamber of Deputies a Bill proposing a loan of 100 million francs (£1.4m) to Rumania for the purchase of war materials from France. The Russian expedition to Lapland headed by Professor Bartjenko has returned to Petrograd. It found traces of civilisation as old as the Egyptians on the Kolo Peninsula.

Hurling News

Castletreasure have surpassed expectations by figuring prominently in the hurling final of the city division of the intermediate championship. The Douglas lads first played to a draw against a sturdy Blackrock II, and, on the replay, have actually knocked out the Rockies! Their success is the product of consistent, intelligently directed training and the necessary determination to win. It is an example that might be followed by all young clubs. The meeting of the Barrs and Sarsfields in aid of the Poor Children’s Excursion Fund last Sunday was well attended despite inclement weather. The hurling was excellent throughout. Eventually the Sarsfields had to acknowledge defeat 3-3 to 3-0 but not without giving their opponents a lively time. Fixtures for to-morrow: Sarsfields vs U.C.C., St. Finbarr’s vs Redmonds II, Mallow vs St. Ann’s, Commons Road vs Nemo Rangers, Passage vs St. Mary’s II.

Irksome Regulations

St. Patrick’s Day has lost its historic meaning and glamour. It is full of limitations and rigidity. I am sure the saint himself, with his knowledge of the Irish character, would, disagree with many of the puritanical precepts and irksome regulations which now crowd his festival. The Scottish Sabbath air is not at all suited to us. No, neither the weather, war, nor a strange new shyness in the vicinity of publican’s premises can deter the average man from realising that he is an Irishman first and (perhaps) a partisan afterwards. I don’t agree with this modern tendency to disassociate from certain native and time-honoured characteristics. If, as I heard a preacher say recently, we are living on the religious reputation of our forefathers, let us at least acknowledge those good men in every other respect too. For we are neither better nor worse than they. This assumed contempt for our native nature is depriving some of the convivial character and a certain saving courage possessed by dead generations.

Skylarks Free

Apropos of my reference last week to an imprisoned singing thrush. A pretty story was told at the recent meeting of the Royal Society for the Protection of Wild Birds. The Duke of Rutland purchased 800 skylarks which had been for sale in an English town and set the lot at liberty! The incident may remind readers of Canon Sheehan of a similar action he once undertook and poignantly described. Our bird fanciers stive, at least, towards bigger aviaries. I have no doubt that with the advent of an enlightened and progressive administration in the country, the confining of singing birds in very tiny spaces will come to be regarded as an offence against humane conditions.

#cork city library #local history #echoesofourpast

[zoocoup]

2022 Favorites (and honorable mentions)

Favorite Albums & EPs of 2022

Favorite Singles of 2022

Not sure why, but I bought a lot of music in 2022, more so than usual. It was also, I think, an especially good year for music. In addition to the things that actually made my lists above, here are the releases that were close: 

• Aoife Nessa Frances / Protector • Börn / Drottningar dauðans • Babe Report / The Future of Teeth • Bees Made Honey in the Vein Tree / Harvestmen (live) • Blushing / Possessions • Bodega / Broken Equipment • Bri Barte / Hex Sign • Broadcast / Maida Vale Sessions • CLAMM / Care • Damien Jurado / Reggae Film Star • Delivery / Forever Giving Handshakes • Despondent / Other Girls • Droopies / Echoes Lightly • Dropper / Don't Talk to Me • Eliza Edens / We'll Become the Flowers • Fake Palms / Lemons • Fonteyn / Trip the Light Fantastic • J. Zunz / Del Aire • Julia Jacklin / Pre Pleasure • Marlowe / Marlowe 3 • Mellie / I Have Ideas, Too • Mizmor & Thou / Myopia • Monolithe Noir / Rin • Nadja / Nalepa • Nightshift / Made of the Earth • Options / Swimming Feeling • Papercuts / Past Life Regression • Primitive Man / Insurmountable • Public Acid / Condemnation • Renata Zeiguer / Picnic in the Dark • Smirk / Material • SOOKS / Demo 22 • Stander / Vulnerable • Stereolab / Pulse of the Early Brain [Switched On Volume 5] • The Casual Dots / Sanguine Truth • The Dankoes / Some Kind of Grit • Ty Segall / Hello, Hi • Wand / Spiders in the Rain • WEAK SIGNAL / WAR&WAR • Wednesday / Mowing the Leaves Instead of Piling 'em Up • Weird Nightmare / Weird Nightmare • Wet Leg / Wet Leg • Working Men's Club / Fear Fear • “2k Hip Pocket” / Vintage Crop • “Abalone” / PACKS • “Alien” / TVOD • “Andy, Come Out” / Ted Leo & the Pharmacists • “Arena Of Blood” / Osees • “Balboa Park” / Jacob Turnbloom • “Blue Room” / Love Fiend • “Boundaries” / Jamila Woods • “Breaking Up” / Bnny • “Burning Down” / Anna Calvi • “Butterfly” / Blue Hawaii • “Can U See Me” / Justice Hill • “Combo”vLaundromat • “David” / NoSo • “Demolition Row” / METZ • “Edge of the Edge” / Panda Bear and Sonic Boom • “Forever Young” / Beth Orton • “Giving The Past Away” / Quicksand • “Head Cleaner” / Ruben Riley • “Heart String Special” / Mejiwahn • “Here To Forever” / Death Cab for Cutie • “Home Maker” / Sudan Archives • “Impossible” / Röyksopp • “In Our Hands” / Scone Cash Players • “Incinerate for KG” / Chaka Gettz • “L.A. People” / Love Fiend • “Looking Right into the Sun” / Hello Mary • “Make Believe” / Tanukichan • “Memory” / Lala Lala • “Miles and Miles” / The Heavy Heavy • “MITTOS (Make It To The Other Side)” / Sarah MK • “More Hard Times (remix)” / Ted Leo • “New Body Rhumba” / LCD Soundsystem • “Oh, Shadowless” / Neko Case • “Once Twice Melody” / Beach House • “Pastel Concrete” / MAITA • “Pet Meds” / Kamikaze Nurse • “Piggy” / St Vincent • “Pigs, Shit & Trash” / Weeping Icon • “Pins and Needles” / Cosmit • “Problem With It” / Plains • “Problems” / Floating Points • “Repetition” / Spread Joy • “Runes of Abandonment” / Ted Leo & the Pharmacists • “Selfish Soul” / Sudan Archives • “Silence is Golden” / The Beths • “Something's Going On” / Kokoroko • “Summer Nights” / Hazel English • “Summer Renaissance” / Beyoncé • “Take a Trip” / Brijean • “The Funhouse” / Francis of Delirium • “The Only Heartbreaker“ / Mitski • “The Windmill” / Ruben Riley • “Time” / Pom Poko • “To Decide” / Caution • “Together” / on hallowed ground • “Venutian Offspring” / Lucrecia Dalt • “Very Fine, pts. 1 & 2” / Neal Francis • “Was I Ever” / Queen of Jeans • “Worry” / Green/Blue

#2022 #music

[noface-phantom7]

Bodysuit: Superior Dominic

Another Case of SCP - 5091: Sir Skeleton

(Branching off from Skin Maketh Man)

???

Dominic snapped awake in the dark with a gasp, though muffled by a cloth that he felt occupied his mouth and secured by what felt like duct tape that kept it shut. He started to panic, breathing wheezing through his nose as he thrashed round—to no avail as he felt his hands bound behind his back on a pole of some sort. His legs were free, yet he couldn’t pull himself up as the restraints on his wrists were too tight.

Thoughts raced inside his head—he didn’t even know how he got here, and come to think of it, his recollections of what led here were blurry. He knew he had been in the club with his buddies, sneaked out of their house, and there was an altercation. Something about a guy groping him. Dominic remembers throwing the first punch, but he couldn’t recall anything else.

“Finally awake, Dominic.” He hears in the darkness. Whatever room he was, it was pitch black and he couldn’t make anything out in the inky darkness. The voice was near though, and it was accompanied by what sounded like rattling bones.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Dominic manages to yell. His voice echoed in the darkness, and by the sound of it, he imagined he was in a warehouse of some sort. He struggles against the rope cinched around his wrists. “What do you want from me?”

He heard another rattling, and the hairs on the back of his neck rose when the voice spoke again. “A lot, Dom.” The voice whispered, and he flinched, trying to quick. The voice sounded a little hollow, like the grinding of teeth. He couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, though the tone felt vaguely familiar. He tried to kick, but he feels his legs getting pinned down by something sharp—bony even, and he winces at it. He could feel it through his denim, and it didn’t feel human.

Dominic gulps. “If you want money, I don’t—”

“I don’t want your money.”

“Then what the fuck am I doing here?” Dominic lashed out, though the weight on his leg wouldn’t budge. “Who are you?”

A beat of silence, and the warehouse was filled with a hideous laugh like teeth chattering. Dominic inhales a sharp breath as he felt something bony—was it a hand or a twig?—caress the side of his face. It didn’t feel human.

“Actually,” it whispered to him. He couldn’t see the face, but could swear it was smiling at him. “I’m about to be you.”

A ripping sound filled the dark and empty warehouse, followed by a loud scream that echoed in the otherwise quiet night—with no one to hear but the creatures inside. It didn’t last long though, soon it was replaced by a horrible cackling sound as the doors groaned open to let the new creature out.

Wednesday

To say things have been weird in the past couple of days would be… an understatement.

Dominic and I had been together for more than half a decade after meeting at a common friend’s party over spring break in college. We clicked right there and then, so fast forward to now, we’re engaged and slated to marry in about two months. It wasn’t a smooth ride at all—in fact we’ve been through much bumpier roads than most couples then ended back together, on and off. In fact, I’ve been reconsidering our engagement hard in the past months because of his behavior. Perhaps the last peaceful moment we had was last fall, when he proposed to me during one of our walks.

That’s Dominic on the left. He was…something, I think I fell the moment I laid my eyes on him, and he swore it was the same for him. For a while, it was a thrill to be with him—at least in the first three years. In the past two years though, he’d been a little difficult to be with. But I loved him so, and I couldn’t just leave him. He was mostly pleasant; he like taking me and Diego (our dog) out frequently, liked taking trips. He seemed perfect, though that wasn’t usually the case behind closed doors.

Dominic had a bad temper—if he didn’t get what he wanted, he could get violent at times (though he thankfully hadn’t caused me too much harm). He would break things often, especially when he was drunk, or if I protested him going out with his buddies during what should be an important night for us both. I couldn’t do a thing, at all, and though I’ve been compelled to leave him a couple of times, I never did. I held on to hope that he’d change, and I thought he would when he proposed; which clearly wasn’t the case.

Well, until nearly a week ago, at least. I was up until nearly five in the morning, alone in our bed. Dominic had sneaked out hours ago to go drinking with his friends; Mia called me to ask if I was okay with it because she knew it was our anniversary, and I couldn’t say no. I lay sprawled in our bed the entire night with only Diego for company, contemplating our relationship.

To my surprise, I heard a knock on our window. I jumped out of bed, pulling the drawer open to grab something to defend myself. Diego had gone out in the hall minutes ago, so he wasn’t there to warn me. Imagine seeing Dominic knocking against the window, with the largest and most sheepish grin on his face as he waved at me to let him in. I was baffled, but I opened it for him nonetheless.

He’d somehow climbed the emergency stairs of our apartment about six floors up instead of entering through the front door, with something held behind his back. Dominic wasn’t one to do this—if he’d left his spare key here, he would’ve called me. But no, he was there with a goofy grin plastered on his face. And then he said sorry, which took me aback for a while as he stepped in.

Dominic was hiding a small box of cake and a few roses strung together behind his back, and then greeted me with a happy anniversary. Not only was this unusual, but I distinctly remember hours ago when he said this sort of celebration should be for when we marry—but seeing him here now, I chalked up his earlier behavior to the fact that he just wanted to surprise me.

It was peculiar, but I was so happy at that time that I let him lead me to the kitchen where we ate and just talked—something we hadn’t been doing well for the past weeks. I didn’t question it at that time; not when Dominic literally glowed the way he hadn’t been since the first years of our relationship.

Now, days after that incident, Dominic’s behavior that veered off from his usual self had become more evident. He still had his usual ticks like his fingers twitching here and there whenever he tried to recall something, as well as his frequent ‘hmm’, though they seem exaggerated and almost done on purpose rather than by habit. He also hadn’t thrown any fit from his temper for the longest time.

To make it even weirder, he’d been waking up earlier than me to prepare me food. It was like he’s trying to atone for something he did, but why and how, I wasn’t sure. I even called Mia last night if they talked or something, but even she got confused.

“Come on Garrett, maybe he’s a changed man?” She teased, and I was inclined to accept that. But it seemed all sudden, like a switch was flipped in his head and he lost all his rough exterior, replaced by a softer version of himself—one that’s sweet, gentle, and most of the good things I’ve only seen from him whenever he was in a good mood. Heck, even the tone of his voice felt subdued.

I recounted the past days as I sipped on my coffee, contemplating the emails on my phone. It was already late afternoon, and I just got back from work so I had some time to kill before prepping for dinner. My phone chimed as a new notification came in, and it was from Dominic.

“Almost done with the shoot. Eat out tonight?” The message was from Dominic, with a photo of him attached. I almost spit my coffee. It was Wednesday, and he was usually out with his other model friends on this day of the week. What spurred him to take me out, I didn’t know, so I asked.

“Just wanna spend time with you is all. :) “ was his reply. If it wasn’t unusual enough that he’s asking me out, Dominic never used this sort of smileys. “Be there in twenty, dress up?” he added, and I typed in a quick sure before setting my phone and cup down.

I’ve been downing multiple cups of coffee a day in the past week, and I stared suspiciously at the dark swirling liquid on my cup. Thinking the caffeine could be driving me nuts, I dumped the rest of it on the sink before I went straight to the bathroom to freshen up. I then proceeded to fill Diego’s bowl with food and replenished his water, telling him to behave while I was gone.

Maybe Mia was right, maybe it was the caffeine, or maybe Dominic had an epiphany or some shit—I don’t know, but whatever it is, I hope it will last and that it was genuine.

Friday

Our little dinner out went very well the other night…in fact, it went suspiciously well.

Dominic wasn’t making the waiters uncomfortable this time, nor was he sitting usually with his legs spread wide apart—he was very pleasant that night, and I actually enjoyed it a lot. He even cracked up at a few of my jokes, despite always rolling his eyes at any of my anecdotes before. It was like everything I knew about Dominic had been replaced by something that felt like him, though at the same time wasn’t him at all.

“So you think this is the Invasion of the Body-Snatchers?” Mia told me earlier, incredulous, causing another co-worker Markus to snort a laugh before leaving us in the pantry. I couldn’t blame him, but the idea didn’t sound all too impossible now. “Are you high on something, Gar?”

“No!” I replied to her, showing her my cup that had cocoa instead of the usual coffee. “Haven’t even had a drop of caffeine in days, and I’m serious, it’s like he’s someone else now.”

“Then ask him about it!” was Mia’s response, laughing at my reaction. “Seriously, we can all just guess. Just ask him.”

“I don’t know how to do it without being weird.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Mia said through her coffee, which she waved teasingly at me. “Besides, why are you even bothered by this? Weren’t you wishing for him to change a while back?”

That was the end of that conversation. I couldn’t deny it of course, Dominic had been an asshole for a while, so despite this bizzare sudden mental change or whatever in him, I can’t help but be happy about it. Whatever it was, it seemed like the universe finally blessed me.

I just couldn’t keep the nagging thought in my mind though, that if it were possible at all, maybe something DID replace Dominic. I’m not a spiritual person, but maybe some holy ghost or angel finally took it to themselves to ‘fix’ Dominic once and for all—or I don’t know, maybe there’s a benevolent deity out there that somehow heard my prayer.

This, and another thing that got me thinking about it was Diego being somehow even more interested in Dominic now. He’d usually spend his time with me, though it seemed like he suddenly just started bonding even more with Dominic.

I decided I would ask him about it, soon, but not tonight. I want some assurance first, like one more proof convincing enough for me to ask lest I offend him and bring back the temper that seemed to have gone away. Dominic asked me earlier what he’d like us to do tonight and for the weekends—something that is already ticked off on my Not Dominic checklist—and I told him I’d like for us to just chill whilst watching a movie, then we could go out tomorrow. He agreed, and I’ve been looking forward to it all day.

“How’s my Garrett doing?” Dominic said as soon as I got home. He finished early today, and was already in his pajamas while Diego tailed behind him. I smiled at him, and then he was wrapping me with a tight embrace like he hadn’t in a long time. I could feel his massive biceps over my torso, they were hard as usual, but I didn’t know if I was just thinking it, or I really did feel part of it seemed a little too elastic.

“I’m good, Dom.” I responded, reciprocating the kiss he landed on my cheek, before slipping out of his grasp to hang my jacket on the rack. “Popcorn ready?” I asked, slipping my shoes off.

“Yeah,” He responds with a wink, though his stare seemed to linger on me a little longer.

“What, do I have something on my face?” I asked, running my hands over the sides of my face. He just laughed in response, eyes twinkling the way I’ve never seen before, then he was pulling me in another hug.

“Yeah, you ‘have’ perfect in it, and I can’t keep my eyes off of it.” He whispers in my ear with a gentle tone, and I immediately feel heat rise from my toes. It was probably the first genuine compliment I’ve had from him for…years. “Come on, let’s get you changed so we can snuggle soon.”

He lets go of me as he says this, and I, in my blushing state, froze in the spot for a few seconds—trying to comprehend what just happened. If the compliment and the hugs weren’t enough proof, Dominic never used the word ‘snuggle’ and in fact hated the word along with ‘cuddle’. He wasn’t too fond of affectionate physical contact like that as well, unless he was screwing me in bed.

I gulped, and watched him disappear into the kitchen. This wasn’t Dominic; not at all. Though something in me was happy, I wanted to know or at least confirm my suspicions—not because I wanted to do something about it, no, it would just eat me up if I didn’t.

Not now, though. I didn’t want to dampen this moment. Dominic or not, I’ve been looking forward to this, so I’ve decided to ask him about it tomorrow instead. We’d be outside anyway, so just in case it turns ugly, I wouldn’t be alone with whoever this is in such a small space.

Saturday

My right knee couldn’t stop bouncing once we checked in and I sat on one of the posh couches near the balcony. Dominic had managed to get a reservation for us overnight at this beach that he had been to before. They knew him, so we got in easy and in one of the best rooms they had to offer. The sound of the ocean waves crashing against rock and sand should be calming, yet I couldn’t stop my mind from racing.

I was going to ask Dominic, though he had to go back to get something he left from the car so here I was, sitting alone to contemplate how I could go about it. I wanted to find a topic that I could segue through, but couldn’t—because what can I say to ask him why he replaced my fiance? “Let’s talk about aliens, hey are you an alien?”

“Got it.” Dominic announced as he opened the door, making me snap out of my thoughts. “It was on the backseat af—”

Dominic stops short in front of me, a puzzled look on his face as he studies mine. I thought it would be the same irritated face he would make whenever something inconvenienced him, instead, his face was arranged in a concerned expression.

“Something wrong?” He ventures, approaching me as he sinks down to meet my eye on the bed in front of me. He sits there, with eyes almost pleading for me to respond. I met them, and I took a deep breath before swallowing the lump in my throat. Then I spoke:

“I know you’re not Dominic.” I blurt out, and watched him blink twice. He didn’t look very shocked at all, and it didn’t seem to shake him too, so I pressed on. “Before you assume, I don’t hate you, I just wanted to know what happened-who—who are you?”

He blinks again, and only sighs as he stands up. I flinch, and tried to scoot away in case he was going to hit me. He didn’t though, instead, he pulls his mouth apart—and my breath hitched in my throat at the grotesque display. There was no blood, but something else stepped out of Dominic’s skin.

“You got it right.” He tells me, though his voice wasn’t Dominic’s now—it was hollow and almost guttural, and in his hand, he held what looked like a deflated Dominic. “Please understand that my intentions were pure, I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” I cut him off, and he tilts his head at me. “I’m not–I’m not mad. Actually, it had been the best week between us–I mean, in our relationship. But why?” I add. What stood in front of me looked like a huge talking skeleton, about the same frame as Dominic. It was a bizarre display, but I wanted answers.

“I knew what was going on,” He tells me, raising the arm that held Dominic’s skin. “I took the midnight train to live here, and I chanced upon the two of you, so I watched everything for months through the eyes of your neighbor.”

I raised an eyebrow as my mouth opened, trying to process what he just said. “So you’re saying you…wore..?”

He nods, before pulling the Dominic skin near him. “Human emotions got to me, I don’t know, but it drove me to take his skin for myself, and eventually acted upon what I had been feeling for a while.”

I couldn’t utter a response, staring at him both in disbelief and amazement. I couldn’t decipher the expression on his skull face, yet I knew he must be telling the truth. And besides, he had been a better Dominic after all, so why should I hold this against him?

“I believe you,” I say after a while, rising to meet him. “Dominic.” I added, staring into his eyeless sockets with a grin, and I was sure he returned it. In response, he started fitting Dominic’s skin over him again, slipping it on nearly perfectly—a bodysuit of some sort, literally.

Once he’d been able to slip every limp and his head into their respective places, I was greeted once again by that gentle, smiling, and soft ‘Dominic’. He was grinning sheepishly, and I found myself compelled to pull him close.

“Are you sure you’d be fine with the name Dominic, though?” I found myself asking, our faces drawn close to each other. He just chuckles, cupping my left cheek with one hand.

“Anything’s okay.” He tells me with a grin, our eyes meeting once, before he dove in and the rest was history. In fact, this felt even more intimate than anything the real Dominic and I had done before—better than the sweaty and aggressive intercourse that he was fond of. Instead, it was easy, and I accepted it fully without resistance.

Soon, the bed had called to us and I gave ‘Dominic’ something he’d never experienced before; and he loved every second of it. Hell, I did too, I enjoyed it so much more than any of the time I did it with the real Dominic.

Needless to say, ‘Dominic’ really had been a changed man as Mia put it—just in a different way that she put it…or perhaps she was close enough to call it an Invasion of the Body-Snatchers. The catch though? He did come in peace—and in me.

#male transformation #short story #male bodysuit #male body theft #male body possession #male to male possession #male possession #scp5091 #bodysuit #skinsuit

[yaomomvs]

TAKE OUR HAND

seijoh x manager!reader

in which aoba johsai vbc just wants you to take their hand, just as the many times they have reached for yours when they needed it

pls i’m sorry i just wrote this for comfort, in having a terrible week and so, i just really need my seijoh boys to comfort me even if it’s just in my head and just so you know, and as i’ve been trying to convince myself, things always get better

tuesday, [15:56 pm]

“nice kill yahaba senpai!” kindaichi congratulates his upperclassman.

his voice makes you react, it scared you. still holding your pen and the notebook you always carry around even on normal practice days, your hand threatens you in the most scary way possible.

fuck no, just... breathe.

you are quick to leave aside the notes, and so, you look around to the boys, who just after the coach’s whistle sounds they are quick to approach your spot.

you take the water bottles as quickly as you can.

“oh y/n-san, i know we are irresistible but you can’t just slack off admiring us!” makki teases you laughing.

“if our dear manager is admiring someone is obviously me” oikawa says, before taking a sip of his bottle, slightly making you blush even more.

“i don’t think she likes idiots who still watch youtube conspiracy videos at 3am”

“iwa!”

“weren’t you the one with a secret obsession for romance manga, iwaizumi?” it’s mattsun time to expose his friend. iwai mi doesn’t hesitate and he runs directly to matsukawa, while kunimi brings out his phone to start recording the chaos in the gym.

you don’t listen.

your head hurts, and then, you once again feel this weird thing in you stomach. you have been feeling like this for the past week, and you try to ignore it . but sometimes, you just want the world to stop.

you can’-

“y/n senpai?” watari calls your name, and you notice his furrowed brows looking at you, worried. you blink and correct your posture. you had just zooned out. “is everything ok?”

“ah yes watari kun!” you force your self to sound relaxed because you feel the sudden gaze of the entire team “i was just thinking in a smart way to insult oikawa, but i’m worried he won’t understand tho”

“hey! you said i was your favorite”

you fake laugh once again assuring everyone that you were just fine. the day goes on, and somehow is becomes more difficult to just stay down not worrying about anything.

and they notice.

you don’t walk home with the guys today. instead you run to the bus not before excusing yourself with an ‘urgent family thing’

“just please don’t let makki eat so much ramen today!” you giggle as you run to the bus “i’m not in the mood to dealing with diarrea!”

“that was a secret between us darling!” the pink haired guy screams cheeks blushing.

and maybe you were just too distracted, but before you face them away some of them notice how quick your smile fades.

“you know guys” yahaba is quick to say “call me crazy but, why did she lie?”

—

wednesday, [10:22 am]

when was the last time you actually enjoyed school? not practice, but school itself. seeing numbers everyday in the board that you don’t understand is frustrating. your throat hurts, there’s has been a not there since the begging of the day.

swallow it, y/n, dammit

you decided to take this class, don’t blame the world, blame yourself. isn’t it supposed to be simple? why isn’t it being simple? is that... 

"Square root of 57 is equal to Xo, miss" 

"alright!" 

it is not like it’s a race, you want to say. why was the teacher obsessed with speed?, it’s unfair. your time is not the same as that of others. 

you drop the pencil and you recline in your chair, why couldn’t you do operations and analysis as fast as they could? you take a look around and the eyes of others look frightening. you see ambition, you see security, you see admiration.

the bell rings and you just want to run, and well in a way you end up doing it. leaving your homeroom, you tell your friends that for today you want to be alone, the halls of aoba johsai are big, for your fortune or misfortune. you go to the vending machine and when your drink falls, the minimum noise makes you startle, lately it’s like that, small noises or actions affect you way too much.

and iwaizumi notices it.

you don’t make a single move, it’s just the cold drink resting on your hands. and before iwaizumi could stop mattsun, he was already putting his hand on your shoulder.

“y/n!”

the orange juice spills and once again fear takes hold of you.

you see them both, you’re not stupid and you know hajime stares at you weirdly, and now mattsun, you hide your fear it a bit worse than yesterday, but you do anyways.

"someday, Matsukawa-san, YOU’RE GOING TO KILL ME! and what will you do without me?" you try to say cheerful, wanting to take away the suspicion, for a moment it works.

"flunk history, that leads me to..." 

"no, sweeheart, i won’t give you my homework" 

you walk and both guys follow you, one faster than another, very naive of the situation. "I begin to believe you hate me," says Mattsun, as the three sit on a bench near the school cafeteria casually encountering kunimi who quickly joins you, patting the folds of your skirt as you sit down, you rest on the table and admire his needy expression and as the tantrum of mattsun grows.

minutes go by, your chest pain grows, but somehow you know how to let it go.

 with your hands supporting your face, lunch passes between you and kunimi, you try to talk, you really try. 

but still, your eyes just glow, and kunimi notices how it’s not the glow you always have.

—

thursday [12:03]

your head is spinning, you can feel the cold sweat. will this be the time? why do you feel so small? why can’t you say it?

it’s familiar, you recognize this feeling, an ocean, you’re floating, you know you can swim, but, you’re in the middle of nowhere, you look down. Out of nowhere the intimidating depth of the ocean is beneath you. And then, you sink. You feel like you’re drowning, you feel like you’re fighting the tide, but you just can’t do it.

i just need...

no, it’s not time yet, it’s still training. the boys... you’re the one who should take care of them, you’re the one who has to be be fine. they had no time to lose, they had a goal and for the moment that was the most important thing.

On that bench, your gaze is absent, you know it is so.

and through the window that overlooks your classroom, oikawa notices it too

“y/n...” he mumbled.

of course he’d noticed. at first it was not so clear, but now he remembers.

when kindaichi pinned your dark circles to him, while admiring you by fitting volleyballs in a way not of your own.

makki watches oikawa from your side, you don’t even know the pink-haired guy is there, unaware that he’s sitting next to you. but he notices. he’s been noticing for days that your eyes are threatening to close in the middle of class.

hanamaki catches your attention and instantly that mask you’ve been wearing for weeks appears again.

"hanamaki, i’m fine"

it doesn’t convince them. they both look out the window and nod.

oikawa notices, and god, he wished he had no reason to.

—

friday [14:00 pm]

breathe.

please just... breathe.

you’re fed up. the feeling of guilt and discomfort is still there, can’t you be calm? people don’t need to know, but why do you want to shout it?

the dressing room is alone, the girls from the soccer team are out and it’s your only chance.

the team needs you, hold on a little.

your footsteps are heard in the hallway once again, a symphony you’re tired of listening to.

your chest hurts, your heart is aching, but you just need a little more. hands are shaking, the cold in your body, you need to stop.

you have to make them stop.

but when you walk into the gym, even with your eyes down, all you feel is warm. and it’s because, the boys were standing, aligned begging for you.

no, they beg for your sake.

and everything stops.

one hand from him on your neck, and one hand around your shoulders.

because oikawa, without warning, now has you in his arms.

and then, only then, you break.

tears don’t take long to come out, along with desperate sobs. your legs fail and out of nowhere, you and oikawa are on your knees.

with an alarmed look, the whole club runs towards both, surrounding you as sensibly as possible.

"i’m sorry, i’m sorry I’M SORRY" is heard from you, between hiccups.

“love, listen...” iwaizumi approaches you,somehow he managed to catch up with you, somehow he managed to hold your hand.

"i promise i didn’t want to, but i can’t, i can’t anymore, why can’t i? i try and i try and i keep trying but it’s never enough! IM TIRED OF SEEING SOMETHING AND NOT BEING ABLE TO PROCESS IT LIKE THE OTHERS. I’M TIREDD OF NEVER FULFILLING WHAT I SHOULD”

yahaba’s heart aches, and just as most of the team, is shocked.

your hands, oh your adorable hands, those hands that bandage his in the middle of an important game, he sees them shaking horribly between iwaizumi’s.

“AND I’M SCARED, WHAT IF I LOSE YOU BECAUSE OF THAT BECAUSE OF ME? BECAUSE OF HOW I AM I-“

watari is quick to place your hair gently behind your ear, a kunimi covers you with his jacket.

“I LOOK IN THE MIRROR AND I DONT RECOGNIZE MYSELF” you lower your voice, its cracked now “oikawa I don’t recognize myself, I want to be me again" you whisper, and a knot appears in the captain’s throat, and he puts a hand on your cheek "please... just let me be me again" your throat burns, your eyes get redder.

the gym goes silent, your words still echoing in everyone’s head.

“why didn’t you-“

“i just couldn’t” you blame yourself cutting oikawa off “look at us! we are waisting time on me when we should be- i’m the one who has to- im you support not-“

“hey hey, love...” iwaizumi whispers his voice is filled with sweetness, letting you sit correctly and softly rubbing his thumb in your hands “how many times have you been there for us? y/n your hand is always there”

“that’s true” kyotani says, finally saying something, emotions overwhelmed him a lot, but he genuinely wanted to help you.

“there’s something about you, there’s light” kindaichi follows up.

“no matter where, or how bad we are, somehow you always are helping us stand up” mattsun also tries to carefully approach you, he wants nothing more for you to feel safe.

and oikawa’s arms were still around you. he never stopped.

“we have reached your hand so many times, so now it’s time for you to please take ours” oikawa holds you face, and you see the sincerity and kindness behind his brown eyes, it feels like home.

mattsun does a sign asking the coach for a day off, both of them smile tenderly at you and give the green flag. iwa and makki are next to hold you carefully helping you stand up. they help you stop shaking but it’s mad dog the one who wipes your tears away with a tissue watari handled him. still not knowing if he did it the right way. you still feel kunimi’s scent. you still see kindaichi holding your school bag making sure nothing is missing. yahaba is the one bringing you water. and oikawa still refuses to let you go.

all of them feel like home.

“thank you”

and that’s how you know everything is going to feel fine.

because this club was yours and you were theirs.

this was home.

#haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #seijoh manager #kunimi x reader #kindaichi #watari #matsukawa x hanamaki #matsukawa x reader #hanamaki x reader #hq x reader #oikawa headcanons #oikawa fluff #bokuto x reader #kuroo x reader #kenma x reader #aobai josahi #iwaoi #kagehina #sugawara x reader #iwaizumi hcs #seijoh scenarios #iwaizumi smut #oikawa x you #iwaizumi x oikawa #kageyama x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #oikawa imagine #haikyuu hcs

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Head Over Feet (1/14)

After Kurt and Blaine broke up the second time, they went their separate ways, living their separate lives in New York City. Fifteen years later, a retirement party brings them back together into each other's orbit, with surprising, for both of them, consequences. Are they able to fit each other into their already complicated and messy lives? And are these newfound feelings real? Or just echoes of a past relationship?

Canon Divergent after Season 5.

Ao3 Link

A/N: Yes, I know I have a bunch of other WIPs - and I am still working on all of them! But I’ve been so excited about this one, I just want to get it out there... 

Thanks to @snarkyhag for the beta. :) 

***

Chapter 1: Loser Like Me (Part One) 

Fall 2028

Blaine is dreaming.  It’s all fuzzy, but there are hands… familiar hands that are on him clasping his own, cupping his face, trailing down, down, down to where it feels good.  He begins to feel the warmth spread throughout his body.  He feels good, so good… Lips are against his, rough and hungry, he is enveloped in want, in need… He lets out a groan, letting the pleasure overtake him.  He reaches out, desperate for more, but as he does so, that good feeling starts to float away.  He makes a grasp for it, but it’s no longer there, and he is left cold and wanting more.  

And then his alarm goes off.  

Blaine wakes up hard as a rock.  He can’t remember the last time he had a dream about sex.  Maybe when he had been a teenager? Or possibly college?  But he doesn’t remember any of those dreams ending him with his dick actually aching to fuck something.  

He stares at the ceiling for a good long moment, thinking the urgency will eventually wear off.  He turns his head, slightly, to see the outline of his husband on the other side of the bed.  He doesn’t bother to wake Sean -- not that morning sex had ever been a part of their marriage.  They’re on opposite schedules; the show Sean is doing the costumes for is in the middle of its workshop, and if it gets picked up by a good producer, it could mean big things.  And Sean is cranky in the morning, anyway.  

Blaine can just as easily take care of himself.

He gets up, slowly.  The erection still hasn’t died down, and Blaine begins to wonder if this is even normal for someone his age.  Maybe he should call a doctor.  He laughs to himself.  Or maybe he should jack off and not worry about it.  

He moves off the bed, having to go around it to get to the bathroom.  In the process, he has to step over a huge pile of Sean’s clothes.  Blaine takes a moment to pick them up, and throw them into the laundry basket.  Two seconds, it takes.  Is that really so hard?  

The clothes also smell like booze and cigarettes, which means Sean has been staying out late with the company again.  It’s fine, they used to both go all the time to the afterparties and the clubs, but some time after Blaine hit thirty, he didn’t find them as enticing any more.  Something about feeling almost twice as old as everyone around him killed the spirit.

Blaine gets into the bathroom, turning on the light, and easily stripping out of the boxers that he wears to bed.  His dick is still throbbing to be touched, so he gives himself a few hardy strokes before turning on the water for a shower.  It’s weird, he thinks, as he gets in.  Sex used to be the a staple of his marriage but, as the years passed, he and Sean manage once a week if they’re lucky.  He hasn’t really missed it, or maybe he hasn’t noticed he missed it.  Because getting off with just his hand doesn’t normally feel so good.  

He indulges a little, thinking about that dream, and those hands on him.  Letting someone else take over, take control, take him apart.  He thinks, at first, of Sean, pulling from the catalogue of their sex life.  Sean being the one to hold him, and stroke him, and suck him down.  But as much as he tries to concentrate on his husband, the scene keeps pulling away, and there’s someone else there -- a faceless man with deft hands who knows exactly how Blaine likes to be touched.  

He speeds up his hand, and yet somehow it doesn’t feel like enough.  He braces himself against the tile of the bathroom wall, fucking furiously into his hand until his hips take on a life of their own.   Eventually he comes, jolting hard into his hand.  The orgasm tears through him, and he lets out a near scream that he hopes doesn’t wake Sean.  

It takes a moment to come down, and he leans against the tiles, enjoying the blissed out feeling as the hot water sprays over him.  He’s not sure what had brought all that on but he does feel more relaxed.  He’s been too pent up lately.  Maybe he does need to start seeing his therapist again…

***

On Wednesdays, Blaine only teaches one class and he is back home by noon in time, usually, to make himself lunch before heading out to do afternoon errands (or stay in and grade papers).  Before the workshop started, he and Sean would usually make Wednesday nights their together time.  But those have faded away over the past year or so.  Blaine has gotten used to spending the evenings alone, to the point that when Blaine arrives back at the apartment that afternoon, he’s startled to see Sean there making himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  

Sean stands against the counter, chewing the sandwich slowly as he watches Blaine put his bag and coat on one of the kitchen table chairs.   “You okay?” Sean asks, taking another bite.  A bit of crust lands in his red beard, and he brushes it off and onto the floor.  Blaine shakes his head, now he understands why the floor is always so filthy.  “You’re looking at me as if I’m a stranger in the house.”

“No, it’s fine,” Blaine says.  Maybe it’s not.  It feels, weirdly, like an intrusion on his private time, but the thought is laughable.  His husband is home -- he should be happy.  Blaine begins to rifle through the fridge, pulling out a container of tuna fish to have for lunch.  They could eat together, at the table, like civilized people.  “What happened with the workshop?”

“Remember me telling you about Ashleigh and Karyn and their obsessive ambition to be the first to win a Tony? Or whatever the fuck they’re actually looking for.”

“Yes.” No? Maybe? He can’t keep all of the cast members of Sean’s show straight.  But Blaine doesn’t really feel like listening to a who’s who tangent.  He finishes making the sandwich as Sean explains further.  

“Well, I don’t know how it started, but I know how it ended -- with the both of them in the hospital,” Sean says.  “So with both the lead and the understudy out, the workshop is on hold for a little while.”

“Wait, who was the lead again?” Blaine asks.  Sandwich made, he grabs some chips from the pantry and a bottle of water and heads to the kitchen table.  Sean follows him, leaving his now empty plate on the counter, before taking his usual seat across from Blaine.  

“Karyn,” Sean says, stealing some chips from Blaine’s bag.  “The blonde.”

“Right.”

“So, I guess you have me home for a while.”

Blaine plasters an immediate smile to his face.  He’s not entirely sure how to feel, though.  “Are you still getting paid?”

“Yeah,” Sean grabs more chips.  “Marv’s gotta girl lined up in case it takes longer.  Shouldn’t be more than a week.”  

“Ah.”  

Sean taps his fingers on the table.  Blaine sips from his water bottle.  There’s a siren outside somewhere, and the upstairs neighbor’s dog sprints back and forth, causing the ceiling to creek.  

“I paid the water bill,” Sean says after a long moment.  

“Great,” Blaine says.  “I still say we should get reimbursed for the neighbors tapping into our pipes.”  

“I’ll talk to Greg about it.”

“Great.”

Blaine eats his sandwich in a strange sort of silence as Sean watches him.  He feels like they should talk about something.  What do they usually talk about these days? Work? The apartment? The new musical mini-series Netflix put out?  Sean doesn’t ask how Blaine’s class went.  Blaine doesn’t offer to talk about it.  Nothing really feels like a good conversation.  

Which is why Blaine decides to mention it… “So, I had the weirdest dream last night.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it was some kind of sex dream,” Blaine says, licking the tuna from his fingers.  “I woke up hard as fuck.”

Sean gives a smirk.  “I can’t tell if this is your way of telling me you want to fool around tonight, or if you’re concerned and want to see a doctor.”  

Blaine laughs into his water.  “I decided I’m too young still to have dick problems, and jacked off in the shower.”  

Sean’s eyes go wide with amusement.  “Shame I missed that show.  If you’re still feeling it, we can mess around after lunch if you want.”

Blaine gives an unenthused shrug.  “I’ve got some errands to run.  Then I’m having dinner with Santana tonight, but if you want to catch the late show, it can be arranged.”  

“We’ll see,” Sean says.  “I told some of the guys I’d meet them out for drinks tonight.  There’s a new bar opening over in SoHo.”

A flash of irritation runs through Blaine.  It’s not the turning down of sex that bothers him.  He really doesn’t want to spend his evening at a bar in SoHo.  He really doesn’t want to spend the evening with Sean’s questionable friends ‘Way-Too-Flirty’ Don and ‘Drinks-Too-Much’ Steve.  He doesn’t even really want to go out, especially when he has to teach an early morning class.  But he’s not there to tell Sean what to do.  

He finishes off the sandwich without a word.  It’s not like Sean feels differently about Santana.  

“You know, speaking of Santana, that reminds me,” Sean says, getting up from his seat.  He goes over to the counter and brings back a red envelope.  “This came for you today -- from McKinley High.”  

Blaine takes it with interest.  He gets mailers from Dalton Academy all the time -- even if he didn’t graduate from there, he had still technically been an alumni.  But something from McKinley?  That just seems weird.  It isn’t the right time for there to be a reunion.  He has no idea what it could possibly be.  

He opens it up to find a black and gold invitation. “Oh,” he says a little fondly as he reads it.  “My old glee club teacher is retiring.  He’s inviting everyone back for homecoming weekend to celebrate.  Cute.”  

Sean grabs at the paper after Blaine lets it drop back to the table.  “Do you want me to come with you?” he offers quietly.  

“Would you want to go?” It’s not often that Sean comes with him on the rare occasions he heads back to Ohio.  

Sean hesitates before he speaks, and snacks on another couple of chips before replying.  “I probably should stay to make sure Marv has a handle on this whole Ashleigh-Karyn thing.  That is, unless you’d like me to go.”  

Blaine stares hard at the paper.  It’s not like he couldn’t go.  He doesn’t have to teach on Fridays, and the school is having a holiday weekend that same weekend.  In theory, he could and it wouldn’t be a problem.  “I don’t even know if I should.”

“Maybe go to see your parents, Blaine,” Sean says.  “It’s got to be at least a few years since you’ve seen them.”

“I saw them last year at…” Blaine considers.  Has time really flown by so quickly? “Huh, I guess it has been at least two since that Christmas we spent in Ohio.” He sits back in his chair to think about it.  

“Hey, Blaine…” There’s suddenly a heaviness in the air.  There’s something behind Sean’s eyes that hadn’t been there earlier.  Something that Blaine catches glimpses of every once in a while.  Something that they’ve been avoiding and, for a moment, Blaine fears that Sean is actually going to bring it up.  The room gets darker, just a cloud passing by the sun, but everything is still -- too still, and Blaine’s heart begins to race.  The moment passes, though, and whatever Sean had been about to say changes.  “I guess talk to Santana about it, and see what she says.”

Blaine stares down at the paper again.  Suddenly, a weekend away from the apartment, away from the city, away from Sean doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.  “Yeah, I’ll do that.”  

***

The fall wind is sharp in its crispness, but it’s still a nice enough evening to go for a run in Central Park.  Three days a week, he and Santana Lopez go out for a jog then grab dinner at a nearby taco truck so they can sit and gossip.  Santana, who’s office isn’t far from where they meet, is already waiting for Blaine when he arrives.  She is stretching her legs, bent over in a V, wearing her usual black spandex pants with a bright, blue bomber jacket that billows slightly.  Her designer sunglasses rest on the top of her head.

Because he has been thinking about high school all day, he can’t help but think that she hasn’t changed much.  Her face has hardened a little with age, but Blaine knows her beauty care routine is much more extensive than his, and he knows how much she spends on wigs and dye jobs.  Today, though, her long, black hair is pulled back tightly in a high pony, amusingly reminiscent of how she wore it in high school.  

“Okay, so I have some hot goss for you today,” she says, immediately after they exchange pleasantries.  She waits for him to do his own stretching, but continues to launch into her news.  “So, you remember how I’ve been endlessly talking about the cute redhead on the floor below?”

“The one who works as a secretary for the greasy lawyer?” Blaine pulls his leg back.  The stretching feels nice, he is glad he is able to get out of the stuffy apartment in some capacity tonight, even if he can tell Santana is a bit more ramped up than usual.  

Santana nods.  “So for weeks now, it’s been flirty glances, and unbuttoning buttons to show off some pretty pricey brassieres, but you know, nothing direct.  Well, today she comes up to my floor, claiming the bathroom is not working in their offices -- and I checked, she was totally lying -- and she’s wearing this tight, and I mean tight, nearly see-through button-down.  With no bra.  She had on no bra.  I could see her fucking nipples, Blaine.”

“The nerve,” Blaine teases.  They begin to walk down their usual path.  They have a good quarter of a mile before they usually start jogging, though they might go the first half of their two miles at a walking pace just so Santana could release her pent up energy verbally.  

“Who doesn’t wear a bra in a professional setting?” Santana continues.  Blaine arches an eyebrow at her.  “Okay, so I have totally done it, but I promise you it was warranted.  Anyway, I think she’s trying to kill me.  I took all of my restraint not to pull her directly into the janitor’s closet and make out with her.  And play with her tits.  I can’t unsee her fucking hot tits, Blaine.” Santana grumbles, putting a fist to her head, as if it’ll magically erase the image.

“You know, you could ask for her number,” Blaine suggests, for maybe the third time since Santana has started talking about the woman.  “Or, you know, find out her name.”  

Santana looks at him sharply.  He knows, she just wants a minute to bitch and revel in her janitor closet fantasies, but it’s not in him not to offer suggestions.  “Her name is Liz.  I at least found that out today.”

“Well, that’s a start,” Blaine offers.  

“Alright, what’s up with you?” she asks abruptly.  “Usually, you’re talking my head off about school, and I’m always having to catch up to you.  You’re trailing me by nearly a foot.  Something’s going on.”

Santana’s senses are rarely off, he shouldn’t be as surprised as he is by it.  He tries to quicken his pace but she is right, he is been in his head all day.  “I’m thinking of going back to therapy.”  He says it simply, laying it out as if it’s another fact, and not something that’s been weighing on his mind.  

She gives him a concerned look.  “Is this a ‘just you’ thing? Or a ‘you and Sean’ thing?”

“A ‘just me’ thing,” he admits.  They are nearly at the lamp post where they usually start to jog, but he’s not feeling as up to it as he had been when he arrived at the park.  “Sean’s staying home for a few days, and I’ve been restless lately…” he doesn’t quite say the things he’s thinking.  “And, I don’t know, I had a weird sex dream this morning.  I’ve been off all day.”

“Well, what does Sean think?”

“He offered to fuck, but I told him I had it taken care of.”

“What, no, not about the sex dream,” Santana stops in her tracks.  They have to wait a moment for an older woman walking a doberman to pass in-between them.  “What does your husband think about you going to therapy?”

“It didn’t come up.”  

“God, Blaine,” Santana says, exasperated.  “Well, if you really would rather spend your evening with me than reconnecting with your husband who is, as you well know, built like a fucking viking, then maybe therapy is what you need.”

It’s more complicated than that.  She knows some of it, but maybe not all of it, and it’s more than Blaine would really like to get into on their fairly public walk through Central Park.  But Santana has also grown to be one of his closest friends and, if nothing else, he can confide in her.  

“I’m going to set up an appointment,” he tries to play it off as just another thing.  She knows better, and gives him one of her infamous staredowns.  “And if it’s something I think I need to continue to do, I’ll keep you informed,” he tries to assure her.  

“You better, Anderson.” Her voice is sharp.  “I may have a cold, dead heart, but I want you to be happy.  And you know I’m always going to be blatantly honest with you, so I say this with all the love I can muster, but I don’t think you are.”  

“I know, I know…” He’s not not happy.  He loves his job.  He loves his little apartment.  He loves being in one of the greatest cities in all of the world.  He and Sean are…  “So, hey, did you get your invitation to Mr. Schue’s retirement party?”  He begins to walk again.  He knows he’s avoiding the conversation, so does Santana.  But she rolls with it.  

“He’s retiring?  Dear god, he’s barely over fifty.”

Blaine lets out a little laugh.  “Well, that’s what the invitation said.”  

“And, fuck, no, I haven’t gotten one,” Santana says.  “Though, it’s been a couple weeks since I’ve checked the mail.  Who sends invitations through the mail these days?  Just start a text chain like a normal person.”

“Would you go?” He asks.  He’s been back and forth on the idea all day.  Does he really want or need to see anyone from high school again?  Possibly?  Would it be nice to get away for a weekend? Most definitely.  Can he really afford to skip town for a little while? That is the big unanswered question.  

Santana bites her lip, thinking it over.  “I mean it really depends on who else got these magical invitations.  Oh, god, will Rachel Berry be there? Please tell me Rachel Berry will be there.  Because I have got to see how little Miss TV-Princess does in a place that does not revolve around her ego.”

Blaine has never had the issues with Rachel that Santana had, but he does remember college.  He does remember Funny Girl.  “Sorry, Santana, I don’t actually have an answer for you on that one.”

Santana throws her hands in the air.  “You keep in touch with everyone, right?  Well, isn’t she part of everyone?”

“I think she’s become a little out of my status level,” Blaine replies, with a smirk.  “Besides, I don’t keep in touch with everyone .”  Truth be told, Santana might be the only person he talks to from high school.  At least on a regular basis.  For all the promises made during the time of staying BFFs forever, real life managed to get in the way of the magical thinking.  

“Alright, let’s work it out, right now, cause this will be the determining factor,” she says.  She pulls at a leaf from one of the trees above her, causing the branch to bounce.  It nearly whacks him in the head, which causes her to giggle a little and shake her head.  “Let’s see… Rachel Berry, possibly.  Said ego might drive her back to the place where it all began.”  

“Sam Evans will probably be there,” Blaine says.  “He does still live in the area.” He and Sam don’t have a lot of contact, but occasionally they’ll do a long distance Fantasy Football thing or chat about a new video game they both own.  He hopes Sam will go - he could use more of that laid back charm in his life.  

“Artie clearly won’t be,” Santana continues.  “I know, because I’m the one who put him on the European press tour for his new film.”

“I doubt Tina will be there either,” Blaine adds.  “She just had her third baby, and she and Ron probably don’t want to make the trip from Boston to Lima with three young children.”  

He thinks of Tina’s Instagram, the only way he really communicates with her, and the constant updates for her hectic life.  She’s happy and looking good, and way too busy to drop everything and run back to Ohio.  Blaine makes a note to give her a call at some point to congratulate her formally on the new baby, even if he had already left a cute note on the Instagram pictures.  

Santana is too caught up in her thought process to say more about Tina.  “Finn won’t be there for obvious reasons.  What the fuck happened to Puck? I doubt he has an address to even send anything to.  Quinn’s too prideful to drag her divorced ass out of Connecticut.  You know she’s already taken a new lover ?  She’s in her mid-thirties, and still hitting up the sugardaddies.  I mean, have some goddamn respect for yourself.”

“Well, Mike’s in Chicago,” Blaine offers.  Mike had been part of the Chicago Ballet for a long time, and had since become a dance instructor.  Blaine had been at Mike’s wedding to his wife, Marie, a couple of years ago, and he’s another one whom Blaine wouldn’t mind seeing again.  Maybe he, Mike, and Sam could have a nice guys’ night out that weekend.  He’ll have to get in touch.

Santana nods.  They walk by a woman sitting on a bench with two screaming children.  Blaine feels bad for the woman, but he and Santana share a look -- both of them glad that they don’t have to deal with that kind of hot mess at home.  

“Then there’s Mercedes,” Santana says, looking up and out into the world.  “Goddess among women.  We do not have the privilege to be in her presence.”  Santana laughs at her own comments.  “Seriously, though, I love my girl, but I don’t judge her for continuing to live her best life.”

“What about Brittany?” Blaine asks, tentatively.  He has no idea if this is a sore subject for her or not because he doesn’t think Santana has brought her up once over the course of their friendship.  

Santana becomes stoney-faced, as if not to give herself too much away.  “No,” she says simply.  “Brittany’s living in some commune in LA where she does Fondue for Two and runs a cat babysitting service.”  

“That’s a thing?”

“In LA it is.”  A fond smile climbs on her lips.  “In any case, as much as I am always up for seeing my girl again, I highly doubt she’ll be back.  I mean, we were still hooking up for a while the few times I made it out to LA, but recently she’s found someone a little more… permanent.  And before you go on pitying me, let me assure you, I am more than fine.”  She’s quiet for a moment as she reflects.  For a person who is almost always open about her thoughts, she’s decidedly reclusive when it comes to matters of her heart.  Blaine knows better than to try to pry it out of her. “Anyway, if we’re going to be upfront about exes, I believe there’s only one person left, if we’re not counting random chicks with mafia dads or weird Irish exchange students.  And I’m sure we both know that there’s no way in hell Lady Hummel is coming back to Lima, Ohio.”

“Oh!” Blaine says, as if it’s a complete revelation.  Kurt hadn’t even entered his mind, and it is surreal to think that his brain didn’t go there first.  

“Oh, please, don’t tell me you actually forgot about Lady Hummel and his heartbreaking ways,” Santana scoffs.  “Pretty sure years of therapy couldn’t undo all the trauma that did.”

She isn’t wrong, and she would know, because she helped pick him up a year after everything had happened.  But that’s the funny thing -- it’s not that he doesn’t remember Kurt.  (God, he remembers all of Kurt.)  He doesn’t remember the person he used to be when he had been with Kurt.  There had been a time when he would have shifted the Sun and the Moon and the entire Earth for Kurt Hummel.  A time when his heart had pointed in only one direction.  And a time so dark that when Kurt had ended it, Blaine didn’t know how he would ever move on.  

And yet he did.  

The person he had been is now such a faded memory he can barely remember what those feelings were like.  Kurt Hummel is just another name from his past, a person who, yes, helped shape him into the person he is now.  But long gone are the emotions once attached to that name.  Funny how things can change.  Someone could mean so much to you at one point in time, and yet after time…

“I didn’t forget about Kurt, clearly,” Blaine says. He grabs her arm, and loops his own through it.  The jog isn’t happening today, and he’s fine with that.  Some days, it’s best just to have the company rather than the exercise.  “I just think you’re right, unless Burt is dying or something.  But doubtful that he’ll return for a silly retirement party.”

“You almost sound disappointed.”

Blaine shrugs, and gives a smile.  He doesn’t know how he feels about whether or not Kurt will be there.  He hasn’t thought about him so long.  But he does know that after all this talk of the past, maybe he is ready to go back and see if anyone else is feeling the same way.  “I think we should do it.  Go back.  I mean, why not?”

Santana shakes her head.  “Oh, this whole idea sounds like the worst, but if there’s a chance I get to make-out with Quinn Fabray again, then I’m in.”

For the first time in a while, Blaine feels a little lighter on his feet.

***

Not a few weeks later, Blaine is on a plane back to Ohio.  

He and Sean talked it over and, while Sean had been technically free to go, they agreed that maybe it would be better if Blaine went himself; the unspoken dialogue being that space isn’t the worst thing they could give each other.  Blaine had not been able to help but be fidgety with his wedding ring during the flight but, intent on giving himself a weekend off from real life, he drowned himself in his favorite podcasts, and had tried not to think about his life in New York.  

The party is on a Saturday afternoon, but he’s there on Friday so to spend time with his mom.  They end up having a nice lunch together, and she takes him shopping.  She’s as feisty as ever, somehow managing to remind Blaine of Santana, and he wonders if she’s always been like that or if that’s a new trait of being in your sixties.  They end up FaceTiming with Cooper and the kids, and Blaine indulges his little nieces by singing them Disney Princess songs.  The whole day weirdly feels like the family they usually are only around Christmas time, but he’s in good enough spirits that he doesn’t question it.  

Later that night, his dad comes home, and they have pizza before his parents go off for one of their social benefit parties they often frequent, reminding Blaine of the old days when his parents were never home on a Friday night.  He doesn’t mind so much because McKinley’s Homecoming Football game is that night.  

His original plan had been to meet up with Sam since Santana’s plane isn’t coming in until tomorrow.  But Sam declined, stating that Mercedes Jones is coming late that night and she needs a ride from the airport.  Sam didn’t ask Blaine to come with him.  Blaine calls up Mike, who is happy to hear from him, and says that he will be at the party but is only going to make the trip to Lima once on Saturday.  He doesn’t bother trying to get a hold of anyone else, and ends up going to the game alone.  

Coming back to McKinley feels like going back in time, and yet the kids running around make him feel entirely too old to be there.  He half expects Sue Sylvester to pop out and start yelling at the cheerleaders, or Mr. Figgins to make some sort of half-time speech, but the world of McKinley has moved on, even if the campus has remained remarkably the same.  The game is fun, but kind of boring, and he’s not surprised when the team loses by seventeen points.  Still, seeing the array of alumni all cheering around him, he feels a strange sort of connection to the place in a way that he really didn’t when he actually went to the school.  It’s a bit surreal.  

Afterwards, not ready to go home to an empty house, he drives around for a bit, until by chance, he drives by Scandals, Lima’s decrepit excuse for a gay bar.  Feeling somewhat amused, a little nostalgic, and a lot in need of a drink, he decides to grab a beer for old times’ sake.  He decides, on a whim, to put his wedding ring in his pocket.  He’s not actually planning anything, but it’s also not like Sean wears his anymore, anyway.  

Scandals is even more in a sad state of affairs then he remembers, even if ‘Funk-It-Up-Friday’ is trying to give the place some of that Mid-Western Charm.  He orders a bottled beer, and sips as he thinks fondly about the time he watched Dave Karofsky try to line dance.  God, that had been so long ago…

“I’m guessing this place rarely sees a man as gorgeous as you.  Mind if I buy you a drink?”

It takes a moment for Blaine to realize the pick-up line is directed at him, but he does instantly recognize the voice.  Much to his shock, when he turns around, he’s face to face with a much older, and yet still dazzlingly magnificent, Kurt Hummel.

#s.o. writes things #head over feet #klaine #klaine fic #it's the older klaine reunion fic! #i'm loving writing this one

[dallonm-archive]

[image description: a cropped image of a pink sky. on the right hand side is a bunch of darker pink clouds. Just left of the centre is a full moon. In the centre, in a white serif font reads "writing update" /end id]

july writing update

Hi friends! This writing update is me pretending I did Camp Nano and didn't kinda give up a week in! I had a proper goal and everything, but a lot of things got in the way that I'm not gonna talk about here because I already ranted about it in another update I'm drafting rn. Lets just say it's Disability Pride Month and being not neurotypical or able bodied in writing communities and their inherent focus on productivity is Hard.

But I did get some writing done and wanted to do a little Camp wrap up post regardless. And I'm doing it now because I'm cancelling the last week of July for some rest/self care and I do not want to think about writing for that time and if I write a tumblr post about July Nano being over my brain will think it's actually over <3 I will probably do updates like these for most months tho! Depends on how much I write lol! This one is not too long (by my standards) and has some Revelations, Revelations, Life Cycle of Massive Stars, Nocturne for the Holy and a new wip idea 👁️

excerpts under the cut!

general taglist ; ask to be + or - ; i only have one! ; @childhoodlovers @svpphicwrites @abiandwriting @kowlazovdi @avi-why @ryns-ramblings @kitblogsthings @bijouxs @bookphobe @moonhungers @alicewestwater @bookpacking @shaelinwrites @onlyganymede @theelectricfactory @write-like-babs @oceancold @sidhewrites @wolf-oak @oasis-of-you @coffeeandcalligraphy @cecilsstorycorner @howdywrites @keira-is-writing @flip-phones @piyawrites @avakrahn @goose-books @finch-goes-write @ziyin @aphaimaniis @isherwoodj @laughtracksonata

I'm also editing this in to say I only just realised that July is my writeblr birthday month and that is very weird to me! A year and a couple days ago I impulsively turned an old blog into a place to document writing for me and ended up meeting people who now mean the world to me and my writing blossoming in a way I never thought it would. And the funny part is it doesn't feel like it's been a year, ever since I joined it's just felt like life has Always been this way and I cannot fathom that it hasn't. I'm sappy bc it's 4am lol but ultimately the friends I made (you know who you are) and the community I found is what retaught me the value of writing and helped me unlearn toxic ideas and whilst the last year was tough I wish I could tell July 2020 Dallon (who did not realise he was Dallon yet </3) what July 2021 would look like.

revelations, revelations ;

Oh the absolute state of affairs with this book rn. Nothing bad but I don't know when I'm gonna update y'all because sometimes I do not know where to start when talking about this wip lol! Currently on a break with it (but also my thesis work is on late 20th century queer lit/history rn so am ever really free of RR? <3) but had a lot of fun with it at the end of June/start of July. Anyway here's Dorothy finally revealing more of herself to me after a year. Dorothy as a character is like, I truly believe she is capable of killing a man but the story she is in just does not allow that so I am trying to grow her unhinged side a little bit in other ways bc I know she has it in her but I also really cannot deal with the plot repercussions of her actually killing a man! I'm sorry Dotty but this'll have to do!

(cw for groping/a man being creepy as hell, death/funeral mention, drug mention, drowning imagery kinda)

There’s too much to tell Felix. That his sister lives on the fringe of Castro and has attended three funerals since September; that it’s January 11th and she’s already attended one this year. That his sister drives through sunsets and imagines parties: the amber dusk, warm mosaic tiles, platters of Greek salad skewers and shrimp tostadas, and sometimes Jolie joins her and they share a blunt on the hill. That his sister bought an aquamarine body-length dress for six bucks in a thrift store sale bin, so when her and Jolie broke up for the second time, she waltzed into a sunset party, locked arms with a CEO’s son and gave him a fake number and plucked strawberries out of champagne and blended so well nobody noticed when she left. That during the summer of ’83, his sister walked a neighbour’s Golden Retriever on Wednesdays, and on the sixth Wednesday he gave her a wad of tens with one hand and palmed the back of her neck with the other, so she walked his dog to the beach and stole another hundred from his wallet. That his sister bombed an interview for a Nursing school and didn’t get home until night and missed their monthly call, and Jolie heard the phone ring and didn’t take a message, so his sister snuck into the CEO’s son’s villa and floated in the centre of their heated pool like a cloud. A pause, a breath, an Opheliean threat.

life cycle of massive stars ;

Switched to LCOMS this month because I was burnt out with RR and it made such the difference! I really love working on two novels at once because it keeps me consistently creative but also both of these books are so different so its always refreshing to bounce back into one from another. I have a whole update in the drafts rn for this so keeping this part brief but still love this book, still the best thing that has ever happened to me, me and this book will have a glorious summer wedding etc etc. These excerpts are from chapters that summarise the first semester of each character's first year and have to say it. has been Very Fun to get into the mindset of Freshers Melodrama. Here's Junie having a crisis and an unhealthy relationship with her hetero flatmate :( (alcohol cw for both excerpts)

In October you are drinking double espresso and trying to breathe normally in lectures and you are trying to figure out your favourite colour because Fleur asked and you stumbled out an answer (Purple, I think. Violet? Lavender? Indigo?) and it didn’t match hers (I like yellow. I like sunlight). You buy mugs from IKEA to paint you paint cats and fireworks and constellations and moon phases and daisies. You try to scratch paint stains off your desk. You do laundry at 2am. In October you colour code your notes with pastel highlighters. You go to the library at 3am. You paint your nails sunlight and hate it. You finish an essay that’s due in December. You knock on Fleur’s door at 8am so she makes her 9am. You wear off the shoulder tops and you let a girl dab glitter on your collarbones and you are watching Fleur kiss a boy from the neighbouring hall. You bite your sunlight nails. You break the handle off your IKEA constellation mug. You leave your keys in a lecture hall and stand at the reception for forty minutes waiting for them to realise that the keys on the desk have the moon chain you mentioned - or, you are waiting to say it yourself. You are watching the rain trail down your window. In October you get a halo headband tangled in your hair you are sipping a vampire themed cocktail that tastes like acetone you rip your heels off and you go home early and do laundry at 2am and you are waiting for the courage to tell Fleur you don’t like clubbing - or, you are waiting for her to ask where you are. In October you are many things / a good student a dancer a painter an angel a big sister an alarm clock you are nocturnal and a lucid dreamer and confused about your sexuality / and it’s still October but it’s not because it’s November now and you are still Junie but not because you don’t know who Junie is. It’s November, it’s September October November December. It’s 2016 2017 2018 2019. You are fragments and you don’t know if you are a kaleidoscope or shattered glass.

And here's first year Tomas being like I Moved Countries For University And All I Got Was Homesickness And A Crush On My Flatmate And Resurging Autistic Symptoms And This Lousy T Shirt (cw: vomit mention, injection mention, parental death mention)

Kristen is seven months younger and five inches taller than you. He’s the last flatmate you met and the only one you talk to beyond kitchen greetings and passive aggressive texts about dirty dishes. He is too quiet and too loud and not the type of person you befriend. The first night, he lost Ring of Fire and downed the concoction of Echo Falls, Dark Fruits, Jack Daniels and coke, vodka and lemonade alongside a cigarette and said he’d let God figure out the rest. He held your hair back when you threw up amaretto and held onto your knee when you first self-injected testosterone. He taught you Yorkshire dialect and you pretended to understand the Yorkshire dialect. He told you he got diagnosed at four and you told him you didn’t get past the first assessment but sometimes you flick the bathroom light on and it’s fire: the orange on the orange towel is louder, the white on the white tiles are louder, the colours and light and sink and showerhead are prickly and all you can do is blink and breathe until it fizzles out. You reminded him to take his meds and asked if you were weak for wanting to drop out and hop on the first Eurostar to Rotterdam. He reminded you to take off your binder and asked if he was robotic for not grieving his mother. You spent inky nights on the kitchen floor, counting the dead flies in the lights and scooping crumbly coconut ice cream out of a maker you got for half price in TK Maxx. You spent dusk-dusted afternoons at the global street food markets, at the vegan markets. Spent student loans on raspberry lemonade in recycled cups, veggie burgers in beetroot buns, got him hooked on poffertjes and advocaat and could’ve cried when the vendor spoke to you in Dutch. Sometimes you didn’t buy anything. Just liked hovering at stalls ambered with fairy lights, writing down Etsy stores on your notes app; just liked Kristen’s impulse to trek forty minutes into the city for a market he didn’t know existed until five minutes before; just liked how he always invited only you, cancelling your other plans last minute, the feeling of being ambushed; just liked how he stopped to take photos of dogs and the sunset; just liked how he looked haloed under lampposts waiting for Ubers, golden on golden.

This is also nearing creative nonfiction because Sheffield truly is a haven for just. vegan markets and cafes lol! I experimented with veganism there and never struggled to find something and at this point I call myself a fake vegan because it's too easy to be vegan in Sheffield and too difficult to be vegan in my actual hometown. And the global street food markets!!! SO GOOD! I miss pre pandemic days

nocturne for the holy ;

Giving her a little shout out because she does exist actually! I've figured out a really good system for working on two novels at a time, so my plan is maybe to start properly on this after I finish either RR or LCOMS. Idk I got 3 novels to pick from haha oops! I did do some free drafting back in April though and found it recently and I Like It! And I edited it so it counts as Something I Did This Month :) Also have decided that I loathe this working title <3 Okay see you with an update for this novel in like a year, sorry for the absolute zero context for this excerpt hehe

The morning I was due back, I hadn’t yet decided that this would be my last visit. I wandered between rooms like an overstayed guest, like I didn’t know which crockery lived in which cabinet and which bedroom had the best view of the overlapped hills. Dad would wake for his run in an hour, plastered to his twenty-year-old routine. Mum would pretend to be asleep until breakfast. Until then, it was myself and the house, hazed by sleepy sunrise. Downstairs. The peeling paisley wallpaper in the lounge, the lilies in the middle of the kitchen table, the vases of candy floss pink peonies wilting on every windowsill, the desolate double swing-set in the garden. The mist-clogged mornings. I stood outside in my dressing-gown until my fingertips felt numb. Upstairs. The sage coloured bathroom. The bathtub I’d laze in with my clothes on and no water because it was the quietest room in the house. The dusty dance trophies on the top of my wardrobe. Wine-flushed Jeanette in my teenage bedroom. The stale grey mum painted my teenage bedroom after I moved out. Minus their room, I stalked the layout of the house three times before settling back into bed - teenage Nora’s bed. Nora who cared for peonies and pushed her brother on the swing set and flung her ceramic ballerina at the wall and jogged with her father and collected wine bottles and acorns and kisses from girls who were supposed to visit for dance practice. Before I left, I’d have cycled each room another three times. And in every room he was there, hovered in the corner like black mould.

love this update bc it's like i've got my third person, my second person, my first person! collecting all the POVs like chaos emeralds :)

eulogy for our burnings ;

-looks away-

girl help I did it AGAIN!!!! Apparently Camp Nano is just the perfect time for me to get novel ideas. I made this post specifically to talk a bit about this because I have no idea when I'll draft it but it's certainly not soon. This is not me trying to doubt my own skill but I feel like I am not in the place I'd like to be as a writer to tackle this project with the zest it needs, however I am v excited by the prospect of it! Don't know how I feel about the working title bc I'm like "that doesn't sound right but I don't know enough about this wip to dispute it" but the only purpose my working titles serve is to sound pretty lol! But here's the tea:

1991, UK.

2nd person present + past. Very flexible form. I can't decipher how yet but I'm feeling interviews, newspaper articles, receipts, grocery store lists weaved with actual narrative, that kinda vibe.

Best summary is we follow our nameless narrator, a stealth trans man, as he becomes unhealthily obsessed with a man who "hires" him to photograph the buildings he burns

Very,,, isolated? Minimal settings, minimal characters, minimal prose etc. Almost claustrophobic

There's basically only two characters and they are probably the most morally deplorable, indefensible characters I've created which just means most of you are gonna LOVE this /lh I do too I do too

Only comp title I can give is it has the vibes/tone of Boy Parts by Eliza Clark (just with none of the nsfw content lol if you've read the book you know what I'm talking about) (also that book is great for morally deplorable women protagonists but omg look up the content warnings because it caught me off guard! enjoyed it tho gave it 4 stars)

The pinterest board is the best visualisation of the Vibes also follow me on pinterest lol

And that's all I've got today! A bigger Life Cycle of Massive Stars update coming in the next few weeks. Might do a proper intro post for Eulogy For Our Burnings but idk!!! It's a surprise :) Thank you for reading this far!

#also i have LOTS to catch up on so if u tagged me in anything im gonna do a big queue of rb's soon! #promise im not ignoring anybody! #just barely functioning <3 #atlastracking #writing update #revelations revelations #life cycle of massive stars #nocturne for the holy #eulogy for our burnings