#for now have these caps and know there's Thoughts coming up

[featherandferns]

daylight - three

jj maybank x fem!reader | part 3 of the daylight series | read part 2 here

content warnings: alcohol

word count: 2k.

blurb: after finding a box of memories, you jump at the chance to go fishing with JJ. There, you open up a little more about your life in Vancouver.

You come downstairs at the sound of your dad calling your name. You find him standing by a stack of cardboard boxes, labelled with marker pen scribbles. 

“Can you take your stuff upstairs? That other delivery van finally arrived. Only a God damn month late,” your dad grumbles. 

“Sure thing,” you say.

It takes about ten minutes to lug your boxes upstairs. Closing your bedroom door, you begin to unpack. Most of them are full of clothes and accessories: caps and bags that you probably don’t even need, since you didn’t miss them in their lack. Another box has school things, in case you need your old notes for the next year of classes. The final box is full of miscellaneous items. Childhood memorabilia and wads of photographs and photo albums. Stupid dress-up gear from costume parties you and Mimsy had attended. You snap a selfie dressed in the get-up and send it to Mimsy.

A shoebox at the bottom has you taking pause. You take it out and set it on your bed, opening it. Your heart stops when you see what’s inside. 

How could you forget?

The box is piled high with various things, and at the top is a journal. It's frayed on the corners from excessive wear and tear. It was the journal you had kept when dating your ex boyfriend, Tyler. You take it out and promptly put it to the side like it’s coated in anthrax. There is absolutely no urge to flick through the pages and relive every moment of that tumultuous, tortuous affair. Below the journal is a t-shirt that belonged to him, then an impressive stack of photos. Happy photos. Smiling photos. Photos that are mostly of just the two of you, always in one or the other’s bedroom. Any photos taken in public have the two of you standing apart, acting as though you don’t know the feel of the other’s skin. There's a birthday present he gave you; a card; a ‘love letter’ that had made you so happy at the time, and only bitter in the aftermath. In fact, all of it made you bitter. All emotions led back to anger, and betrayal, and hurt. 

And yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to get rid of it. Even now, even still, in a different country, on a different coast: you feel the need to keep it. Treasure it like a cursed artefact. 

You’re happy to be taken out of your nightmarish thoughts by the ping of your phone. You pick it up, expecting a text from Mimsy, only to be surprised at finding one from JJ. 

I’m bored.

Smiling, glad for the distraction, you reply. 

Hi bored. 

Nerd. Srsly tho. I wanna do something. 

You turn your back on the box of memories.

Wanna go to the cinema?

Hello I’m poor??? U acting mad expensive rn

Laughing, you roll your eyes and offer something that you know JJ would never refuse.

Fishing then?

Dope. Pick u up in 5.

You kill the time waiting for JJ by tidying away the last few belongings. The items are returned to the shoe box and hidden under your bed following the philosophy out of sight, out of mind.

The honk of a car horn outside has you grabbing your backpack and heading for the door. JJ sits behind the steering wheel, staring off into the distance as he mindlessly taps along to the beat of the Kendrick song he’s playing. You whistle as you approach and he smiles when he spots you. 

“Where we fishing?”

“Found a good spot the other day,” JJ says, setting off once you’re in the passenger seat. “Caught some good bass and stuff. Spotted bass too.”

“Sounds good,” you hum. You kick your feet up onto the dashboard and pick at the peeling nail varnish on your fingertips. 

There’s no need to fill the quiet of the campervan as JJ drives. You eye him in your peripheral as he concentrates on the road.

His resting face sits with a set jaw and you suddenly imagine him to clench his jaw in his sleep. Lips somewhere between a frown and smile, his eyes are somewhat hooded. His neck is so attractive. You never thought necks could be attractive before, but seeing it tense and relax when he swallows and sighs, the way the skin teases over the Adam’s apple...it's tortuous. You can just picture stretching your hands around it, scratching against the skin of his jugular with your nails, marking his pretty flesh with love bites…

“What’s up?”

“Huh?”

“You lookin' at me. Something up?” JJ asks in all his innocence. 

Your dart your eyes to the road ahead. “Uh, no, no. I’m good.”

“A'right,” he says. Back to quiet. You don’t dare spare another glance at him for the rest of the ride. 

JJ parks up on a quiet country road. You both get out of the car and load up with fishing gear and snackage. JJ takes the cooler, biceps flexing, and the fishing rods. Lugging two collapsable chairs on either shoulder, you follow him with a box of bait and your backpack in hand. He guides you up a dirt path, overgrown with ivy and stinging nettles. A dilapidating jetty comes into view and you’re happy to see it empty. You both take to setting up shop. You weren’t lying to him, the first time that you met: you didn’t much care for fishing. But honestly, you’d take any excuse to spend time with JJ. It’s pathetic to admit to yourself that he could ask you to help him drain a sewer and you’d say yes without a second thought. 

Cracking open a beer, you offer it to JJ. 

“Thanks,” he smiles.

You open your own and the two of you cheers before taking a swig. It’s crisp and cooling in the muggy summer sun. He hands you a prepared fishing rod and you lean against the shaky railing beside him. He’s dug out his cap: the red one that he wore the first time you met. It shadows his face beautifully. You look out to the water and admire the calming view. A sea bird darts across the sky in the distance and you half want to grab for your camera. 

“You have good fishing in Vancouver?” he asks. 

“S’alright,” you reply. “My uncle loves fishing. He used to take me to this spot where you could catch trout as long as your leg.”

“Fuck off,” JJ laughs. 

“I’m serious! Swear to God, I thought this thing was gonna eat me!”

The two of you laugh. Your smile turns solemn at the memory. It hurts to think about your life in Vancouver. It feels like it was years ago, hazy like a lucid dream, distorted with nostalgia. Never before have you been more grateful for facetime or else you might forget Mimsy’s voice.

The day stretches on with the two of you passing drinks and chips and refreshing bait. The bucket starts to fill with some catches. Nothing impressive. Somehow you both end up sitting in your chairs. One hand remains on the rod, waiting for a bite and holding it steady. JJ is reclined in his chair somewhat precariously, feet up on the bannister, weighed down by heavy, black boots. 

“I don’t think I ever asked,” JJ says, catching your attention. He looks to you. “Why’d you move to Kildare anyway?”

“Well, you know the old saying,” you reply. “If at first your marriage fails: pick up and move country, eh?”

“Ah,” JJ replies, chuckling a little. “Is the marriage fixed, then?”

“Hell no,” you snort. “They fucking hate each other. Hardly talk. I think my dad just wanted an excuse to move back to North Carolina.”

“He from here?”

“Yeah, he was born here. I have a ton of family out here too. Well, not in Kildare but in Carolina.”

“Damn,” JJ mumbles. 

“It’s typical of my dad though. He's selfish like that. I mean, it's kind of messed up, don't you think? Dragging me away from my friends. From my life.” Your anger sparks suddenly. “You know, he didn’t even ask me if I wanted to leave. Because why the fuck would I want to leave? My entire life was there! Everything was there!”

JJ doesn’t speak. You catch yourself. Taking a shaky breath, you close your eyes, embarrassed for the outburst. 

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I just…I haven’t really talked about it to anyone yet.”

“You’re good,” JJ says. You look at him to find a small, reassuring smile. “I get it. Parents suck.”

You laugh, shaking your head. Leaning your head back, eyes slipping closed, you agree. “Yep. Parents suck.”

“I’m sorry, by the way,” JJ quietly adds. You open your eyes on him. “That you had to leave Vancouver.”

“Thanks,” you smile, eyes sad. “I know I’ll find a way to be happy here. But right now, I just miss home. I miss Mimsy.”

“Mimsy?”

“My best friend,” you clarify. “She’s the fucking best. Completely unhinged. Obsessed with true crime and conspiracy theories. Zero filter.”

“She sounds like fun.”

“She is. She’d get along with you guys great,” you say. “It’s hard though. The time difference and everything sucks. And we talk a lot now but I’m just worried about the future. Like, what if it gets too much, with the distance, and we get busy and drift apart. She’s been in my life since I was like six years old. I guess it freaks me out to think about her not being there, you know?”

JJ nods. “Guess that’s like me and John B. We’ve been best friends since kindergarten. I can’t imagine how it would feel being, like, six hours apart.”

“It sucks,” you chuckle. “And it’s not just that, either. I feel like I have unfinished things in Vancouver. It’s like I left before I could close the book, if that makes sense.”

“What kind of things?” JJ wonders. He shifts in his seat to face you better. Neither of you are paying much attention to fishing now. 

“Romance things,” you say with a joking roll of your eyes. 

JJ’s brows raise. “You leave a man behind or something?”

“Man is a generous word,” you snigger. “But yeah, sort of. We weren’t together anymore - I mean, maybe we weren’t together ever - but I never got all the answers I wanted…I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

“Most things are,” JJ hums. You have to agree there. Nothing is ever clear-cut, black-and-white. At least not in your experience. “So, what’s the story? He cheat on you.”

“No. Least, I don’t think so,” you say. Shaking your head, you shoot him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I don’t think I really wanna talk about it.”

“You’re good,” JJ says for a second time that day. He looks down to watch his thumb stroking the condensation on the side of his can. Tactfully avoiding your request, he then asks, “where you, like, in love with him?”

“Yes. God knows why, but, yeah,” you reply with a self-deprecating laugh. “Have you ever been in love?”

JJ squints against the sun as he looks out to the horizon. “Dunno, really. I guess you’d know if you had been in love, right? Like you’d know what that feels like.”

“Yeah, you would,” you return. 

Looking at you, JJ only hesitates a moment before he asks, “what does it feel like? Being in love?”

Smiling wistfully, you reply honestly. “It’s the worst feeling in the world.”

part four coming soon!

taglist:

@princessuki21 | @psyches-reid | @heybank | @avengersgirllorianna | @rrosiitas | @yourmumstoy | @jjsfavgirl | @void21 | @fictionalcomforts | @gsp420 | @redhead1180 |

#jj #jj maybank #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj series #jj maybank series #jj x fem!reader #jj maybank x fem!reader #obx #outerbanks #outer banks #obx fic #obx series #outer banks fic #outer banks series #outerbanks series #outerbanks fic

[athena-studios]

ָ࣪ 𓏲⋆.ָ࣪ 𓏲⋆.ָ࣪ 𓏲⋆.

treasure.

Simon Riley + preteen!daughter

tw: none(?)

a/n: im basically writing what i wanna read. honorary mention to @chaosandmarigolds for giving a bit o' help:) pretty long, don't know how many words but probably around 1k?

this idea has been in my head for AGES now, so glad i finally wrote it💗

Simon's girlfriend died. the 141 knew that. his girlfriend died that night along with the rest of his family. except for his one singular gem that he treasures the most. you, his daughter that the killers that night did not see nor hear because you were at the neighbor's house. that was when you were 5 years old, since then, Simon has done everything in his power to protect you. even as far as not telling anyone but Laswell about you.

you're now 12 years old. having gone through alot already, you're more mature and sassy than most of your peers. which leads you to this situation...

˚୨୧ ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 . 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ ✧ . ˖˳

you were on the couch with your laptop open when you hear a knock. you walk to the door and open it to be greeted with three bulky men, one looking seemingly older than the other two.

the one on the middle has a...Fishers hat? he also has a beard, which is, what you assume, makes him appear older. "this dude could be a grandpa..." you thought.

the one to your left has a weird mohawk. yeah, thats all you can say about him. the one on the other side looks more tolerable, but his cap does wanna make you laugh your ass in front of him for it.

"Hi, who are you?" the grandp— the one in the middle asks. "I'm sorry, shouldn't i be asking you that? there are three, large, bulky men on my doorstep. none of which who are familiar to me." you replied, in your sassy voice, ofcourse.

your dad told you not to talk to strangers, they're strangers, aren't they?

"sorry—I'm Johnny, but i prefer to be called soap. this is John and Kyle. now can we know what yer name is, bonnie?" Johnny speaks up. you scoff. "fine. its y/n. y/n riley. that's all I'm telling you. and what the hell kinda name is soap?"

at that, the three of them glance at eachother in both shock and confusion. "what?" you ask. "your last name's Riley?" Gaz asks. "yeah, what about it?" you cross your arms, getting slightly defensive.

behind their back, you see your dad's truck pull up the driveway, the three men in front of you also noticing. you speed-walk to your dad and point to the three men. "Dad, these guys are tryin' to kidnap me." you say nonchalantly. he looks behind you and sees his captain and his two sergeants. "honey, they weren't tryna kidnap you. those guys are my teammates." he says as he walks to the trunk of the car and hands you two grocery bags. "now, bring these inside and I'll talk to 'em. 'kay?" he pats you head as you nod, walking back to the house.

"so, simon. when were ya gon' tell us ye got a daughter?" soap's scottish accent rings out. they glance at simon's balaclava-less face, because they don't usually see him without that damn balaclava, but also because they await a response from him. "to keep her safe...only Laswell knows abou' her. she's the only thing i have left. my treasure." simon clears his throat to ease the silence. "so, why are you guys 'ere anyway?" simon asks.

"i actually came here to ask for advice, and then i saw soap already standing at your door, saying something about a teatime catch-up? but anyway, he called price over, faking that your pipe was broken. and when he came up, we knocked on your door and y/n answered it." as gaz finishes his explanation, you walk back out the door. "so...are you all gonna come in or not? because i didn't stop binge watching heartstopper on netflix for nothing." you say as you chew on a french fry Simon had got for you, per your request.

they all walk in, and take a seat on the couch, Simon quickly preparing drinks for them. as Simon takes a seat next to you, Price speaks up. "so y/n, how old are you?"

"I'm 12." you answer blatantly. "y/n, be nice." your dad whispers to you. "you got any hobbies?" Soap tries to make conversation.

you playfully glare at your dad before answering soap. "i like to play the guitar, i like to paint, and crochet sometimes." you answer again, trying to put a less boring tone to your voice.

it goes like this for a few minutes, everyone just exchanging laughs and conversation. maybe they're not so bad after all...

#athena writes #call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #john captain price #john price #cod john price #john soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #soap cod #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #cod kyle gaz garrick

[diorhoon]

eighteen.

❛ park sunghoon may not know what he wants to do after high school, but he knows this: he’s eighteen, and he will go wherever you go. ❜

summary. park sunghoon falls deeper in love with ice skating in the summer, ice cream at midnight, and you.

pairing. park sunghoon x gender-neutral!reader genres. fluff, angst, coming of age; friends to lovers!au, summer!au word count. 5.1k

warnings. profanity, mc twists their ankle, lots of pining a/n. last repost i promise 😞🙏 for the anon who requested this + heavily inspired by eighteen by one direction! header gif was taken from giphy. thanks for reading!

Summer arrives with a sort of sticky-sweetness that melts on Sunghoon’s tongue and drenches him in melancholy. 

Graduating high school made him think he was now a Fully-Certified Adult, ready to face the real world. He had squeezed your hand while taking photos during graduation, donning his cap and gown with a certain air that he perceived as mature. You had grinned at him, and he had smiled back, glad that one milestone was over. The world felt like his for the taking.

Of course, viewing the world through rose-tinted glasses always makes everything crumble faster than it should. Park Sunghoon is now faced with the horrible, horrible decisions that every teenager on the cusp of adulthood deals with: What is he going to do with life now?

His mother brings home pamphlets and brochures, all advertising various colleges and courses. His father sends him links to different university websites. The joy of graduating quickly fades into something more sombre, and multiple times he is hit with the realisation that he must now choose what he wants to do for the rest of his life.

“Do you ever think about how temporary everything in life is?”

Your gaze is thoughtful, aimed at the tufts of grass that grow in between the cracks on the sidewalk. Sunghoon kicks at a loose pebble, hands in his pockets. He thinks it’s way too hot to be dwelling on such philosophical matters, but he humours you anyway.

“Sometimes, yeah,” he answers. 

“I mean, look at us,” you say with a short laugh. You wave your hand in the air. “Only eighteen and we’re already looking to move out of this little town.”

Sunghoon hums. “But, like, some things are permanent. Mr. Kim’s always gonna give you a free donut every time we go to the bakery.”

“Yeah, I guess. But who knows how often we’re going to visit? College is… a big deal.”

“Not really,” Sunghoon mumbles. The sun is scorching, creating a trail of sweat that trickles down the back of his neck and spine. 

“You don’t think it’s a big deal?” You glance at him, chewing on your lip.

“No, I mean, it is. What I mean is not everything in life is temporary. We’re still going to be friends.”

Your face softens at that, and you give him the little smile that Sunghoon has come to recognise as your you-are-such-an-idiot-but-you’re-cute smile. It makes his chest puff up with pride whenever he thinks of it—that he’s lucky enough to have a special, reserved smile for him from you.

“That’s true,” you concede. “I just—I don’t know. I can’t believe this is our last summer here as not-college students. Kinda insane.”

Sunghoon stops walking, scuffing the sole of his worn-out trainers on the pavement. “Let’s make it memorable,” he says.

You stop as well, looking at him intently. “Okay, yeah. Okay. What do you have in mind?”

“Dunno.” He shrugs. “What’s something you’ve always wanted to learn?”

In retrospect, Sunghoon knows he shouldn’t have expected some normal, sane skill for you to pick. Pottery, baking, swimming—those are all very viable options. Years of knowing you has dulled his senses, he supposes; he’s become a little bit soft around the edges.

You beam at him when you reply, and your face looks like the inside of a lit-up lantern. 

This is how Park Sunghoon ends up teaching his best friend how to ice skate in the middle of summer.

Lacing up skates shouldn’t be this hard, but, Sunghoon acknowledges, they can be tricky for a first-timer. He watches you struggle helplessly with the strings, smiling goofily to himself. God, he’s such a sap.

Normally, the local ice skating rink isn’t open during the summer, reserving its staff and services for peak winter. But Sunghoon has been skating since he was a kid, and the owner, Mrs. Jang, knows him well. He was able to call in a few favours with the promise of not breaking any equipment and to close up when both of you were done.

“Can you help me instead of smiling like a creep?” 

“Nope,” Sunghoon says. “This is peak entertainment.”

“Ha ha,” you mutter sarcastically. “I shouldn’t have offered to buy you ice cream after this.”

“Can’t spare a few bucks?” he teases.

You sniff. “Definitely not for someone who can’t spare their struggling friend some assistance.”

“So righteous,” Sunghoon quips. All the same, he crouches in front of you and deftly does up your laces, patting the tip of your boots when he’s done. “It’s easy; you’re just dumb.”

He glances up at you only to find you already gazing at him. His cheeks colour. He finds his mouth running dry.

“O, my knight in shining armour,” you say, sarcasm dripping off your words. “O, my prince, who has come to save me from the depths of my despair.”

“Shut up,” Sunghoon mumbles, rubbing his nose embarrassedly. You laugh at him.

“How do you even walk in these?” You try to stand, only to flail your arms about in an attempt to stay upright. Sunghoon hurriedly lifts himself off the ground and places a hand on your shoulder to steady you.

“Here, hold on to me,” he says.

You grab his arm with a vice-like grip. Sunghoon gulps, trying his level best to tame the flush that creeps up his face and the back of his neck. He can’t possibly be this obvious—getting all flustered just because you’re holding onto him. Still, he finds some sort of delight at this proximity to you.

This close, he can hear the way your breath rattles in your throat, a mixture of excitement and apprehension. He can feel your solid weight against him, a little bit unsure. He resolves to fix that, straightening up and giving you a tiny squeeze.

“Scared?”

You turn to him, lifting up a corner of your lips. “You wish.”

“You’re shaking,” he points out.

“That’s because I’ve never worn ice skates before, you utter crumpet!” 

Sunghoon’s shoulders shake with silent laughter. When you glare at him, he raises his free hand in mock surrender. “Joking.”

You roll your eyes at him, but after all these years, even that gesture has a sort of affectionate softness to it. Sunghoon’s smile turns gentle. “You’re doing great for your first time,” he reassures.

Your mouth parts, just slightly, and Sunghoon can see the sheen of your favourite lip balm coating your lips. Raspberry, if he remembers correctly. He’d tried wearing it once, in eighth grade, only to discover it tasted like cough syrup. He’s not sure what to think of it now.

“Thanks,” you say softly, almost as a whisper, “but I haven’t even done anything yet.”

“I’m complimenting you in advance.”

“That’s not a thing, Sunghoon.” Still, a laugh spills out of your mouth.

“Here, c’mon.” Together, you and Sunghoon half-drag half-hobble your way from the benches to the opening of the skating rink. Once on the ice, Sunghoon balances himself on the thin blades of his ice skates fairly easily. You, on the other hand, are not so adept at steadying yourself yet. As a result, you end up transferring your grip on your best friend to the railing on the walls surrounding the ice.

You nearly topple over, and Sunghoon catches a brief hint of panic on your face. He skates closer to you. “Almost forgot,” he says, gesturing to the helmet you’ve tucked in between your shoulder and your arm. “Let me just…”

He takes it from you and places it on your head, securing it under your chin with a small click. You look up at him, your eyes tracing every movement of his. There is something intimate about this, Sunghoon decides, though what exactly it is, he can’t name. Once he’s done, he has to force himself not to let his fingers linger on your skin. One thing is abundantly clear: He’s down terribly, horribly bad for you, and it feels like he’s about to throw up his own heart.

“Um,” you say. “You’re staring.” 

Sunghoon blinks.

“Oh, right, sorry,” he chokes out. Plastering a smile on his face, he gently knocks on the top of your helmet. “Just making sure you don’t get an injury before you’ve even learnt how to skate.”

You shoot him an unimpressed look. Sunghoon guffaws, and even though it’s weird, teaching you to ice skate in the middle of summer, he couldn’t be happier.

When Mrs. Lee decided to throw a welcome-home party for her son, Heeseung, Sunghoon should’ve expected half the town to show up in her backyard. The lawn is crammed full of neighbours and relatives, all basking the sun, sweating buckets, and chatting. 

The good thing is that he can finally meet all his friends who were whisked off to college in different cities the year before.

The bad thing is that he has to endure questioning from all the local aunties and uncles, who are far too nosy for their own good. Months before, when Heeseung and Minjeong were the ones being interrogated, you and Sunghoon used to laugh at their disgruntled expressions. Karma has a way of biting you back, he supposes.

He shoulders his way back into the house to get himself a can of soda—but cringes when he finds Mrs. Choi in the kitchen. She brightens up when she sees him, adopting a kind, motherly smile on her face.

“Sunghoon! It’s great to see you,” she greets him, pulling him into a hug which he awkwardly reciprocates. “Wow, you’ve grown so big.”

He chuckles embarrassedly. “Thanks, Mrs. Choi. You look nice too.”

“Oh, you flatter me.” She smiles indulgently anyway. “I heard you just graduated high school.”

Sunghoon groans inwardly; he can already see where this conversation is going. “Yes, I did, a few weeks ago.”

“Congratulations. Any plans for college?”

“I’m still thinking, Mrs. Choi,” he replies politely. It’s the same excuse he’s used with everyone who asked him some variation of the same thing: That he hasn’t decided upon anything yet, and is still looking into different opportunities. It’s not completely true, strictly speaking—Sunghoon doesn’t know what he wants to do, but he’s looking into different colleges. His parents have been surprisingly supportive, giving him time and space to come to a decision. But he can tell they’re growing more and more anxious day by day. He can’t blame them; if he was a parent, he would also be concerned at his son’s cluelessness.

He’s only researching because it seems like that’s what everyone who graduated high school is doing.

His friends, Taehyun and Jongseong, have already decided where they want to go. They’re going to move out by the end of the next month; you’re already planning a surprise farewell party for them. When he ran into Yizhuo at the convenience store the other day, all she did was ask him for his opinion on different universities she was contemplating joining. Huening Kai’s parents proudly boasted about their son joining the same reputed college as his older sister.

And you… Park Sunghoon doesn’t even want to think of where you’re going and what you’re going to do.

He would miss you on a visceral level. Every atom in his body is attuned to you; he can’t even fathom living away from you. Sure, video calling and texting each other is a way to stay in touch, but for Sunghoon it isn’t enough. How would he be able to steal candies from your secret stash and see the confused tilt of your head when you open it and find it half-empty? How could he challenge you to eating contests, a tradition you’ve had ever since you began frequenting the local ramen place?

He presses his lips into a thin line. Mrs. Choi continues speaking. “Ah, well, I’m sure you have enough time to decide. You know—” she lowers her voice into a conspiratorial whisper— “you could try applying to Yeonjun’s college. He’s pretty popular over there. I’m sure he would be willing to help his old town friend settle in.”

Mrs. Choi’s son, Yeonjun, is at a university in Seoul. Sunghoon hasn’t heard from him since he graduated high school three years ago.

“Thanks, Mrs. Choi.” Sunghoon smiles blandly. “I’ll look into it.” 

“I’m sure you will.” She pats his cheek affectionately and leaves the kitchen, taking a platter of snacks with her.

Sunghoon lets his shoulders slump, walking wearily over to the fridge and grabbing a can of Coke. He’s tired of everyone’s curiosity, of their blatant interest in his life and matters. Cracking the can open, he takes a long swig, letting the liquid bubble on his tongue before swallowing.

“There you are!”

You swing into his periphery, waving at him. 

Sunghoon brings the can down. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Heeseung and the rest are having a Mario Kart showdown in the living room while the adults, y’know—do their thing, I guess.” You beam at him. “Wanna come?”

“Sure,” he readily agrees. Disregarding the fact that he sucks ass at Mario Kart, Sunghoon doesn’t want to be faced with the endless stream of questions and unsolicited advice that he’s been contending with. At least when he’s surrounded by his friends, he can forget about it for a while.

He follows you out into the hallway, clutching the soda can to his chest. It feels strange. Sunghoon isn’t usually bothered by all this, but suddenly the uncertainty of it all is hitting him like a freight train. He realises with a jolt that he truly doesn’t know what he wants to do, and has no idea where he fits in the grand scheme of things. 

“You look sick.” You eye him carefully. “Did you eat something funny?”

“No.”

Your eyebrows furrow with concern. Sunghoon stays rooted in place when you take a step towards him. You raise your hand and place it on his forehead, brushing his bangs away.

Sunghoon’s glad you aren’t pressed up against him—if you were, you wouldn’t miss his sharp intake of breath, or the way his gaze lingers momentarily on the dip of your lips. Your touch is gentle against his skin, soft and warm, despite your cold fingers. His eyes almost flutter shut.

“You don’t have a fever,” you confirm, drawing your hand back. He misses your touch instantaneously.

“That’s good,” he murmurs, barely aware of what he’s saying.

“It is.” You reach down and tug on his free hand, squeezing it gently. “Come on, the others are waiting. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“Yeah, I am,” he says, breath catching in his throat. You have no idea what kind of effect you have on him. Sunghoon feels like he’s a moth and you’re a flame, and he’s doomed to circle around and around you, like Icarus touching the sun.

“Okay.” You turn back around and begin walking to the living room, still holding his hand.

Later, when he sits down on the sofa, next to Heeseung, he watches you play against Minjeong and Jongseong, making fun of the latter when he loses to you. He takes small sips of his soda just to have something to do other than observe you.

“Please tell me you finally grew the balls to ask them out,” Heeseung says after a while, low enough for only Sunghoon to hear.

He chokes mid-sip, slipping into a coughing fit. Heeseung slaps his back unhelpfully, snickering the entire time. 

Park Sunghoon may not know what he wants to do after high school, but he knows this: He’s eighteen, and he will go wherever you go.

A week later, Sunghoon finds himself in the ice skating rink once more.

Only this time, he’s holding your hands and dragging you along with him over the ice. He bites back a chuckle at the way your eyes narrow in concentration, your mouth twists with focus. You’re not even doing anything substantial—just letting Sunghoon pull you along with him—but he finds it incredibly mesmerising. He settles into a smooth rhythm, his legs moving back and forth fluidly, while you try to copy him. 

“How are you so good at this?” you ask suddenly. 

Sunghoon meets your gaze, a silent scoff escaping his lips. “Jealous?”

“...Extremely.” Your teeth worry your lower lip in that slightly embarrassed way of yours.

“I’ve learnt figure skating for years, idiot,” he gently scolds. “I didn’t learn how to skate in a week.”

“That’s… fair,” you admit, squeezing his fingers when you wobble a little bit. “It’s just—I don’t really know how to explain it.”

“Try me.”

You take in a deep breath, looking at him squarely in the eyes. “It feels like we can’t be kids anymore. We’re going to move out of here soon, and I know we’ll come back and visit… but we’re really adults now. Like, don’t you find that scary?”

Sunghoon’s not entirely sure why this sudden wave of melancholia is drowning both of you. Admittedly, you’re way more vocal about it than he is—but he doesn’t mind. Hearing you talk about it and put into words what he can’t, while reassuring you all the same is strangely cathartic. 

This time, however, he doesn’t know what to say. Grappling with the same thoughts as you, he can’t think of a single word to comfort both you and him.

He settles for a soft, “Yeah, it is.”

“And it feels like I’ve wasted so much time,” you continue. “I could’ve done so much more when I had the time.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno. Learnt how to cook, maybe. Or even some sort of extracurricular thing, like how you learnt to ice skate. Volunteered at an animal shelter. Something.”

“You can still do all that, though,” Sunghoon points out, seamlessly navigating a turn. He slows down slightly, recognising that this is a pretty important topic for you. “We’re only eighteen.”

You give him a small, sad smile. “It’s not the same, though, is it?”

“...No, it isn’t,” he agrees. “It’s… kinda hard to accept the fact that we’re adults now.”

“Yeah, it feels weird.”

“If it makes you feel better, we can both think it’s weird together,” Sunghoon offers.

You let a soft laugh at that, your eyes crinkling at the corners. Sunghoon positively melts at the look on your face. “Thanks, that does make me feel better.”

He smiles. “Hey, wanna hear something cool?”

“What?”

Sunghoon raises both his hands and grins at you. “You’re skating on your own, by the way.”

Your jaw drops. You gape at him, astonishment filling your features. “Holy shit,” you breathe out, glancing down at the ice, then at Sunghoon, and then back at the ice. “Oh my God, I really am! Holy shit.”

“Good job,” the boy praises. Your awe and excitement is infectious, and Sunghoon feels a happy laugh bubble out of his throat. You mimic him, laughing incredulously. “Wasn’t that hard, was it?”

“You liar. You said no one could skate in a week!”

“Maybe I’m just a really good teacher,” he quips, shrugging. He’s still skating backwards, facing you. The joy on your face at having finally mastered—a bit of a loose term, but he’ll go with it—something you’ve been wanting to do for ages is palpable. Sunghoon gets the sudden urge to kiss you silly, share in the happiness you’ve found with sweet nothings and the feel of your skin against his. He curls his fingers into a fist to stop his impulsive thoughts from racing.

You spread your arms out on both sides of your body, the standard pose for someone trying to balance. But you still remain fairly steady, so he doesn’t immediately come back to your side. You’re supposed to be learning how to ice skate, he reminds himself. Not hold his hands and traipse about the ice. 

Sunghoon hasn’t skated in a while. It feels nice, though—the ice greets him like a second home. He’s spent so much time on the ice that traversing it feels as natural as walking. Competitive figure skating wasn’t for him, he realised after years of rigorous training. He would rather live a normal life—hang out with his friends, cram for exams, wake up at a reasonable time in the morning instead of setting his alarm to 4 a.m the night before. Look at him now: Had a normal high school life only to turn into this confused, wayless person. 

He speeds up a little, remembering bits and pieces of routines he’d practised multiple times before, to the point where they became a sort of muscle memory to him. He lets himself forget his worries, to lose himself in the fluidity of his movements, relishes in the feel of his calf muscles straining after months of neglect.

He hears a grunt of pain from behind him.

Sunghoon stops, immediately turning around and skating rapidly back to you. You’re on the floor, bent over and cradling your left ankle. Panic fizzes through his windpipe. 

“Fuck.” He kneels down next to you, concern morphing his features into a frown. “Shit. Are you okay?”

“I… think so?” You sound out of breath. “I think I twisted my ankle.”

Sunghoon swears under his breath once more. He gently moves your hand away from the injured area and rolls up your pants. He presses softly on an area of skin next to your ankle, grimacing when you let out a little yelp. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he says, unable to look you in the eye. “We should ice that first. Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“Sunghoon,” you say, gently cutting him off. “Why didn’t you continue ice skating? You’re amazing at it.”

“What?” He barely has the time to process your words, the sudden change in topic giving him whiplash.

“I was watching you skate,” you confess shyly. “That’s why I lost balance—I wasn’t paying attention to me. I was watching you. You’re so beautiful at it, Sunghoon. You could’ve made it to the Nationals.”

Sunghoon’s face burns. “...Oh,” is all he can say. For a moment, all you do is stare at him and he looks back at you. His lips are dry; he wets them with his tongue. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes dart to his mouth and then back. His fingers are still brushing against your ankle.

This would be a horrible time to kiss you.

He’s never wanted something more.

“Ow.” You wince, pulling back. “Sorry. You pressed too hard. Sorry.”

Why are you apologising? The boy draws his hand back from your skin like he’s just touched a hot frying pan. “Fuck. Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We—we should find you an ice pack. Come on.”

He scrambles to his feet and holds out his hand, ears ringing. You stand up with some amount of difficulty, leaning onto him and hobbling off the ice.

You sit down on one of the chairs by the entrance. Sunghoon hurriedly removes his ice skates and runs to the office of the rink’s manager. It’s mercifully empty—not that he expected anyone to be there—so he slows down and waits for his blood to stop pounding. 

What the fuck just happened?

Only you could drag Park Sunghoon, lover of the indoors, outside his house to buy ice cream in the middle of the night.

“I’m hungry,” is the only explanation you offer, clad in your favourite hoodie. Sunghoon shrugs in response, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Sorry,” you add as an afterthought.

“For what?”

“Dragging you out of your house at midnight,” you answer sheepishly.

“At least you’re empathetic.”

“Not really.”

Sunghoon snorts derisively.

“Okay, fine.” You lick your lips before saying, “I really am sorry. I’ll pay for your ice cream.”

“Relax, I’m just kidding.” Sunghoon runs a tired hand through his unkempt hair, stifling a yawn with the other. The nights are much cooler compared to the day; a soft breeze makes goosebumps erupt all over his exposed arms. Perhaps gallivanting about at night in nothing but a loose t-shirt and shorts isn’t exactly a brilliant idea. He notices you favouring your right leg over your left one. A wad of guilt gets stuck in his throat. “How’s your foot?”

“Eh. It’s seen better days, I guess.” You shrug, lips pursed.

You’re distracted, Sunghoon realises. Something must be weighing on your mind—why else would you be unable to sleep? 

“Okay, let’s go,” he says. “Do you need help walking?” (At the end of the day, he’s still a selfish bastard who craves your touch far more than he should.)

“No, I’m good.”

He stifles his disappointment and falls into step with you. The local convenience store is open 24/7; some poor high schooler working the night shift will probably be ecstatic at the sight of customers. The walk there is quiet, only interrupted by the chirping of crickets and the shuffling of your flip-flops. You don’t say anything, and Sunghoon makes no attempt to break the silence. He lets you mull over your thoughts, knowing you’ll tell him when you’re ready.

Quietude wraps around Sunghoon like a blanket, leaving him to lose himself in his own mind. He thinks of his parents sharing worried glances with each other, debating whether or not to make the decision themselves on their son’s behalf. He thinks of Taehyun and Jongseong, set to leave this town for the foreseeable future. He thinks of high school and how it came and went so quickly, though it felt arduous and mundane at the time. He thinks of where exactly he fits in this picture—if he’s even meant to be a part of something bigger, or forever confined to the winding roads and quaint intricacies of the place he grew up in.

His head hurts. He looks at you instead, and your wind-ruffled hair and threadbare hoodie and orange flip-flops. His chest hurts, too.

Imagining a life without you in it—without your laugh, your sarcasm, your late-night ice cream runs—is far more painful than he ever thought it would be. You bring colour into his dreary life, turning his greys into vibrant hues of blue and yellow. He is meant to be by your side. In sickness and in health, and—

Sunghoon stops in his tracks, his head swirling and his heart pounding. He forces himself to tear his gaze away from you, staring down at the gravel on the path instead. His hand finds itself on the nape of his neck, twisting and pulling on the short strands of hair that grow there in some light-hearted attempt to ground himself.

You pause when you see your best friend isn’t next to you. Turning around, you ask him, with a small downward twist to your mouth, “Sunghoon? What happened?”

“Nothing,” he breathes out. Everything.

You nod, still wrapped up in your own thoughts. “We’ll be there in, like, two minutes.”

You continue on, and he jogs lightly to catch up with you. 

It’s at midnight, on the way to the convenience store with you, in his pyjamas and sandals, that Park Sunghoon realises he’s in love with you.

Melted chocolate drips off his stick and onto his fingers, but Sunghoon couldn’t care less. He’s still reeling from his epiphany, delirious on the bittersweetness of what being in love with your best friend feels like. 

The swings both of you are seated on creak with every movement. Sunghoon stills his legs, finding the noise annoying. He looks at you, one arm twined around the chain of the swing, and the other holding onto your popsicle that you bring to your mouth every so often. The playground looks haunted in the dark; all the various playground equipment appear to be looming figures drowned in ghostliness. 

He eats a bit of his ice cream, then says, “So. Why exactly did you call me out here?”

You stiffen, and Sunghoon can see it even in the darkness. It’s probably bad news then. His heart sinks on your behalf.

“I…” You trail off, looking at him with uncertainly and then at your ice cream. “I’ve gotten accepted into a really good college.”

Sunghoon’s heart plummets deeper, down into the pit of his stomach. He should’ve prepared himself for this—for you to leave and not take him with you. He blinks once, sucking in a breath. 

“That’s awesome!” he says, forcing an air of cheerfulness. “I always knew you could—”

“No, it’s not,” you interrupt, fixing your gaze on him properly this time. He gulps. “It’s not awesome.”

“Well… what do you want me to say then?”

“I don’t know!” You slump in your seat, a dejected frown marring your face. “I don’t know, Hoon.”

“Okay,” he says quietly. 

“It’s in Seoul.” You let out a sardonic laugh. “The college. I’ll be in Seoul for the next few years.”

Damn. 

After all these years and only now realising he’s in love with you, Park Sunghoon will now have to resign himself to the fact that he has to send you off to Seoul. He can’t even sneak in one kiss—just one, to soothe his aching, lovelorn soul. He bites his ice cream just to feel the cold seep into his teeth.

“Will you miss me?” you ask.

“Of course,” Sunghoon replies immediately. “Of course I will. It’s stupid that you even think I couldn’t miss you.”

I miss you even when you’re right next to me.

“Okay.” You let out a shuddering breath. Your next words are quiet but hopeful. “Do… Do you think you could try to get in too?”

“I…” Sunghoon flounders helplessly. He’s never thought of that. He feels dumb, now. “I could try.”

You nod, standing up and walking over to him. He looks up at you and smiles when he sees you smiling. “I found some interesting courses, too,” you say.

“That’s nice.” Sunghoon already knows he’s going to try his best to get in. He won’t rest until he does. Moving to Seoul—previously a terrifying thought—doesn’t seem too daunting now. Not when he can be with you.

“Yeah.”

“Thank you,” he says, still looking up at you. The stars twinkle behind your head—thankfully, this town isn’t that affected by light pollution yet. Even in your old and stained clothes, Sunghoon thinks you look like an angel.

“Kiss me,” you say instead.

Sunghoon grins so widely, his cheeks hurt. You always manage to surprise him, even after all this time.

He doesn’t want to waste any more time—it’s the one precious commodity the universe has given him, and he intends to make full use of it.

You bend down, and Sunghoon slants his lips over yours.

You taste like the raspberry popsicle you’re holding in your free hand. He finds he doesn’t mind the taste much now.

don’t forget to do your daily click!

#sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #sunghoon fluff #enhypen fluff #sunghoon angst #enhypen angst #sunghoon imagines #enhypen imagines #sunghoon scenarios #enhypen scenarios #sunghoon fanfiction #enhypen fanfiction #enha x reader #enha fluff #enha angst #enha imagines #enha scenarios #enha fanfiction #sunghoon #enhypen

[absolutebl]

Love Sea - A Trash Watch Smolder

Well my BLabies, do you have your drinks ready?

Are your smores stabbed on dildos, ready to roast over the stinking flames? (Or whatever one prods smores with, I missed that weird American tradition in my misspent youth.)

Can you smell it in the air? That smell of burning trash?

Let the dumpster fire begin. Another Mame offering is upon us.

The Background

The Mameverse tends to interlock, but all signs point to these being entirely new characters. (Click on that link if you want my thoughts on this author/producer and what I feel she does well and poorly.) Meanwhile here's the brief:

Who?

FortPeat - established couple from previous Mame offering Love in the Air AKA LITA (trash watched here).

How do we feel about them? We likie. They a great pair. Steady, established actors, good a promo, but not too good. Bit one note but can't ask for too much when it comes with such great chemistry.

What we know about them as actors? Forth is legitimately in Engineering (hilarious). Peat and he started in the industry around the same time with bit parts, but Peat is 4 years older. They do high heat and they do it relatively well. They were quite popular after their first series and have received sponsorships since. So they wisely stayed branded and it's nice to see them on our screens again.

What?

Love Sea

While travelling a writer has a one night stand with a very irritating man.

10 episodes

When?

Sundays

Where?

iQIYI (AKA icky)

Why?

Mame

To what degree?

Stick your thermometer into that fire, we gonna find out. 102°C I expect.

Episode One - That's An Outfit We'd All Wear to a Tropical Island

Here’s the thing. Icky has decided (in its infinite wisdom) that it will no longer allow screen caps on mobile devices. Which means you’re going to get my loquaciousness on this dumpster fire with no respite from the unmitigated madness via photos of pretty boys saying stupid things.

So. Read at your own risk.

So,I have a bottle of sake and a maple doughnut (don’t knock it till you’ve tried it) so let’s get started!

Hold onto your dildo smores BLabies we are in Mame Country. And apparently that country has its very own baby drone to film with now. (Look, the one thing BL very rarely needs more of is distance shots. That’s not what we’re here for people. Certainly not from FortPeat.)

Rak, baby, I'm loving the all-black western meets goth-rocker look but that eye make-up is the true star. This is how I shall dress when I visit Thailand next. (Oh, you think I'm joking? Gotta work on my smokey eye.)

Meanwhile, if your suitcases are that expensive, why aren’t they matched?

P'ABL asking the important questions for once.

Speaking of important questions:

Why are siblings always trying to pimp each other out in Mame’s stuff? Does anyone else find this creepy? I think it’s odd to be your sibling's wingman when he's chasing tail. It’s edging into the incest taboo. Oh dear, I said edging and incest in the same sentence, I’m probubly giving her ideas.

I’m getting Hometown Cha Cha Cha vibes from Mut.

Rak is such a cat, very picky and stand-offish. Mut is such a puppy. Very conflicting personalities. Not a bad combo.

The "let’s get it on" music is hilarious. But at least Mame doesn't use egregious sound effects in her shows. Small mercies.

I will say, FortPeat do hurt/comfort very well. Peat is good at prickly fragile baby-girl. Fort is good at cocky arrogant prick. They are good at bouncing off of each other and still showing desire. Frankly, chemistry is not one of their problems. They’re fine little actors. It’s just the story is going to betray them. Characters are going to be inexplicably evil for no good reason. And we are going to feel manipulated as a result.

But right now?

It’s fine.

And that's it, that's how I feel about Love Sea.

All in all, I’m quite drunk and it wasn’t really warranted.

Waste of sake. Not a waste of a maple doughnut. No such thing. Maple donuts are always put to good use.

Okay, so Mame? Just keep it on this level and we'll remain fine. Some light terrorizing and stalking, a smidge of breaking and entering. Nothing more offensive, please?

But that’s my eternal optimism (and the sake) talking.

Right now I’m not feeling very strongly in any direction about this show. I haven’t been whipped into a verbal frenzy.

This has been a lackluster start, my BLabies.

Kortord tukorn

(sorry all)

This trash watch has started off as more of a dumpster smolder. A light recycling. (Like Mame and her character archetypes.)

We smokey rather than flaming, rather like Rak's FANTASTIC eye makeup.

Oof, I feel faintly ill. I think that is the sake, tho, not the eye make up. Which was on point! Although when he started to cry, it should’ve started running down his face. Life has very few stand out moments of glory apart from an adorable young man with eye makeup running down his face.

Catch ya next week. More sake, less doughnut.

su su na

************************************

All my trash watches are here:

Okay so sometimes tumblr does this thing where it stops letting me edit/update a post. If there are more episodes to this show than are showing up in this trash watch post, click the first tag below (#ABL trash watches Love Sea) and that should take you to the more recent updated with all of the episodes in it.

(source)

#ABL trash watches Love Sea #Love Sea the series #BL trash watch #Love Sea #Thai BL #trash watch #bl watch along #ABL trash watches BL

[coleskingdom]

Care Pt 2

Jay White x F Reader

Follow up to this

@midwestmade29 @madhatterbri

“ He knows” I say softly as Jay walks back out of the bathroom. His face gives away nothing, “How?” his voice calm as he gets back into bed handing me the pain reliever and water. “Pretty sure , the phone in my skirt pocket, was answered. I’m surprised that he stayed on so long. I heard his voice screaming when we were in bed” unscrewing the cap, taking a swig, “ I assume you already knew that though .” meeting his eyes as he runs the wash cloth over me. His grin told me he either thought he got away with it or, he was surprised by my reaction. “Why didn’t you say something?” his fingers tracing on my legs. “I’m pretty sure I said plenty.” he laughed and I pulled him up to kiss me.

His lips meet mine and I give myself back over to him. “You’re not mad.” he bites my bottom lip, and my hips buck up in response. “Not mad at all.” Biting his lip a primal growl from deep within rumbles in his chest. “ I ran you a bath” his lips on the outer shell of my ear. “ Later” my breath hitches as his teeth graze my neck. He slides his hand down cupping my center his fingers teasing me again. “You can’t get enough of this can you. Your body just wants more.” he pushes two fingers in and I arch towards him.

His teeth nip, tugging at my nipple the same way he did my lip, and a moan falls from my lips . It's not going to happen. Not yet.

That's impossible. And yet the rush of an impending orgasm builds in my veins, threatening to take me over.

"More." It comes out sounding like a plea and a demand, and is met by a growl from Jays lips as his finger plunges inside harder and faster, his thumb finding my clit.

"Yes. Yes. Yes." My entire body goes taut, and my vision turns fuzzy as my eyes roll back in my head. The release washes over me, and my entire body turns languid.

"Your tight little cunt doesn't want to let my finger go." My eyes fix on his massive hard length. follows the direction of my gaze, and his lips tug into a sinful smile. He pulls his finger free of my pussy and lifts it to his mouth, sucking my juices clean. "You taste so damned good."

It's primitive, the feeling that's gripping every cell in my body. “Please”

"Can you take it all? Everything l've got to give? As hard as I want?"

My hips lift, anxious to get closer. "Yes."He moves between my legs, levering them apart with his hips.

"You sure? Because the way you got me right now, you're gonna be feeling me tomorrow." His lip quirks up on one side.

"I like the thought of that. You, feeling me with every step you take. Remembering what it was like to take my cock hard and fast."

As he speaks the words, he presses closer, rubbing the head through my slick heat.

"I'll give you whatever you want if you'll just”

At my declaration, his eyes blaze.

"You should be careful offering a man like me whatever I want. I'm not afraid to take it."

With the head of his cock nudging against my opening, Jay grips my hips with both hands.

"So tell me, Love, you really mean that? Whatever I want?"

"Yes!" yell, desperate to have him inside me, and probably willing to agree to anything right now.

With a jerk, Jay yanks my hips toward him and slams forward at the same time, driving his cock deep, almost to the point of discomfort. Since I'm already lit up from my last orgasm, the line between pain and pleasure blurs.

Jay’s expression takes on an intensity l've never seen before as he unleashes everything he's been holding back.

He uses his grip on my hips to pull me back and forth until my body is fucking his cock as much as his cock is fucking me. Each pounding thrust takes my breath away, but l've never experienced anything more erotic in my life. My eyelids drift closed, but Jay releases one hip and slaps my thigh, demanding my attention.

"Eyes on me. I want you to know who's fucking you. Whose name you're gonna scream when you come."

And then he becomes relentless, and I'm helpless to do anything but hang on tight and enjoy the ride.

His gaze never leaves mine, almost daring me not to come. I hold back for as long as I can, but it's a losing battle.

"Jay!” His name leaves my lips on a hoarse scream as a blinding orgasm rips through my body.

I break our stare as my head rocks from side to side, unable to keep still as the pleasure owns every inch of me.Jay doesn't slow his pace.Sensation overwhelms me as he powers inside me over and over, seeking his own release. When his roar echoes through the room, his cock pulses and I'm filled with heat.

For long moments, the only sound in the room is our heaving breaths.

This time when I pull him close he doesn’t stiffen, he lets me run my fingers through his hair and down his back. Our bodies lax and content, he rolls off of me. This time I’m the one out of the bed, and in the bathroom. I drain and refill the bath. He knocks “Come In” as I’m sitting down in the tub, he slips in behind me. He kisses and rubs my neck . “So” his voice the least confident I’ve heard all night . “So” I say staring ahead. “You’ll stay tonight?” his voice soft against my skin. “Sure” my voice catches, as I try and compartmentalize all the things that I’ve done.

#jay white x you #switchblade jay white x reader #switchblade jay white smut #jay white smut #aew smut

[guiltysungho]

— bad idea right ?!

genre : tags. fluff, brother's best friend, enemies to lovers (?), teasing, slightly suggestive, sex mentioned

pairing. brother’s best friend!han dongmin x gn!reader

wordcount. 1825

a/n. i hope y’all like this, its not proofread cause it should be fine lol, its a bit more fluffy than pt1 also yk longer. here’s part one if you even care.

Last night in Italy and you were starting to genuinely wonder why your brother had brought you along on the stay. Most nights he would just leave you alone to enjoy the scenery with his girlfriend, and you had no interest in partaking in that experience, so you would end up with Dongmin. Going out to enjoy the night life with him felt unthinkable in the first couple night but the prejudice you had of him was starting to wear off.

After spending a few nights in each other’s company, you couldn’t just say you hated him anymore, he wasn’t really hateable as much as you hated to admit it. He was admirable if anything, you’d find yourself opening up to him so easily whenever it was hard to fall asleep, just talking about anything and everything. In some ways he pushed you to talk, like he could see all the baggage of thoughts weighing on your mind and wanted to help you unpack, he would ask simple questions like why, how come and you tell him all about it.

It was an odd case, two weeks ago you were sure you hated his whole essence but somehow, he’d become someone who listened to your worries, when you didn’t even know you had worries that needed to be heard. You couldn’t help but be cautious, because of the things you knew, you’d never truly open up as much as you wanted. He’d always be attentive either way, his tired eyes fixed on you as he stayed beside you on the bed resting his head in his hand, nodding every now and then. Your eyes would sometimes meet, and he would give you that lazy smile, such a dreamy smile.

“What?” you’d ask annoyed by how easily the expression made you shy away from his gaze.

“I just like listening to you, can I not smile?” he laughs at your sudden change in tone, you roll over away from his face before responding.

“Keep it to yourself” you turn off the lamp beside you, refusing to let him see the dumb smile on your face.

Once again you were stuck in the hotel room with him, only this time would probably be the last when you’d go back to your usual lives you knew it would be over and you were fine with that, you couldn’t afford to fall for him anymore if it would up in heartbreak and you knew it would.

“Get up, we’re leaving” he grabs a cap before heading for the door, looking at you expectantly, “We are not spending our last night in here. I promised to take you out remember.”

Rolling your eyes at him you stand up, silently agreeing to it all, a lopsided grin grows on his lips as he places his hand on the back of your neck pinching you making you lift your head up to cover your neck from his touch, giggling as you run away from him.

It would be a waste to not go out in the night at least once while you were in Italy, while you were with him.

You look at the machine he displayed in front of you with a show of hands, it was a small vespa moped that had been well used to say the least, listening to him explain about how he had rented it out for the trip and that it was safe, he had used it.

“It’s safe for one person, I know that for sure”

“So I should die? Dongmin seriously… I’m not getting on that” your whining barely registered to him, you look up at him with an annoyed pout as he places the helmet on your head leaning in closer to buckle it under your chin. He makes sure your eyes meet to give you a sweet smile to reassure you.

“Just hold on tight, I promise you’ll be fine, okay?”

And so it was done, you sat behind him on the scooter with a firm grip on his tshirt, he got his helmet on before taking your hands, pulling you closer to wrap your arms around his waist. You might have squeezed his intestines to paste, during the first five minutes of the drive but he didn’t mention it, he just brought your attention to the scenery you were missing out on with your head hidden in his back. Once you did look it put you at ease, the beautiful sunset on the vineyards the type of view you’d only ever seen in movies.

You rested the side of your head on his back, still holding on as you watched the beauty unfold before you, the historical architecture, the fruit trees holding on to the plump spheres of vibrant colours, you didn’t know where he was taking you, but you were already enjoying the ride. That was until the ride stopped, or should you say the scooter broke down, three final huffs and it was dead, he turned back to you with a grin on his face ready for your scolding.

“It was obvious at death’s door, I can’t believe this” he got off first before helping you off, taking off your helmet just as he had put it on, eyes meeting yours before he spoke.

“Trust me”

As hard as it was to just blindly follow him, you just did there was no where else to go. You were in a small seemingly empty town in the south of Italy with a broken down vespa, you would be fine from here.

It wasn’t a long walk till you realized where this was going, the neon lights flashing at the distance told you all you needed to know, you try hiding your smile turning away from his sight, but he caught on, he already knew you would like it, and the more you got closer the harder it was to stay indifferent. It was a big fun fair right by the dock, the ocean view was barely visible in the darkening sky, but the cool breeze was all you needed.

“Cool.” You shrug glancing at him with a big smile on your lips as you looked at the attractions marvelled by the variety of rides, completely overjoyed.

His gaze lingers on the happiness across your face, it was a sight he’d never seen, he knew he liked your smile but what he was feeling was beyond that, he wanted this happy face to last, like he would do anything to keep you this smiley.

You don’t waste much time after parking the moped, once you’re in you go on a ride together, the one with the least people waiting so you’re on in a dash.

“I’m actually really bad with adrenaline rides” he confesses as you get bucked in your seats, you turn to him with a confused smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” the ride starts lifting you up slowly so it can spin you around in the air,

“You looked so excited” you can’t help but laugh as you take his hand in your holding onto it tightly, watching his worried eyes scan the environment before shutting close as the spinning starts.

Honestly you had screamed a lot more than him, but his hand held onto your so tightly you couldn’t feel it anymore. You ended up alternating from slower rides to faster ones, he insisted on joining you but once in the ride you could tell see his regret so your hands would meet and you would scream together at drops, laughing about it once you were back on the ground.

It was more fun than most of your amusement park experiences for some reason, you felt lucky, to have someone drive you on a barely functional moped just to go on rides he couldn’t even stand, he was nothing like anyone ever painted him out to be, he was just a kind person. Finally taking a break from all the rides, you found refuge in a small playground right beside the place, dragging your tired feet along with a large ball of cotton candy in your hand for you to share.

You both found seats respectively on each side of a swing set, swinging along with the gentle seaside wind, it was a nice ambiance with the coloured lights still flashing from the fair.

“That was the most fun I’ve had in a while, I underestimated you” he looks over to you with a faint smile.

“I’m really not the bad guy you think I am,” you wanted to reassure him that you didn’t think that but the reminder that you didn’t know him that well came in, it was like you couldn’t help but protect your heart because of how easily you trusted people in the past. “I just got mixed up with the wrong people.” a dry scoff escapes his lips.

“I don’t—”

“Can you trust me again? I don’t really care what anyone else thinks but I want you to see me as me, not as caricature that someone else formed of me” his gaze is upwards to the starry night sky, not entirely sure you would take his word, you reach for his hand wrapped around the swing rope bringing him back to you.

For a change it was you listening to him, he explained how baseless the rumours were, a product of envy from peers across the campus, he never did anything to trigger it, he only kept to himself and that annoyed people. They felt they were entitled to his attention and since he didn’t bother amusing their tricks, they used rumours to make him detested by people who didn’t even know him. You were no different from those who spread the rumours, judging him from the moment you met instead of giving him a chance to be himself.

“I’m so sorry, Dongmin” from the first day you could tell he wasn’t as bad as you had heard him to be, but you held on to whispered words when you could have just let yourself realize the truth.

He smiles getting up from his seat to meet you crouching in front of you to meet your eyes, lifting your chin up gently before pulling your cheeks up to form a smile.

“I like it when you smile more, don’t feel bad for me” his eyebrows raise in shock surprised by your deepened frown, watching as your gaze trail off.

“So you really didn’t want to fuck me?” you ask glancing at him hesitantly, it was a joke to ease the mood, you hadn’t thought it through much but you wanted to know what he would say as a joke.

“I wouldn’t go that far” he laughs picking out a ball of cotton candy from you before going back to his swing like nothing happened while you tried to decipher the depth of that short sentence.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

🏷️; @ihopeusmile

#bnd #bnd x reader #boynextdoor #bnd fluff #boynextdoor fanfic #boynextdoor fluff #gs.files #han taesan x reader #taesan fluff #taesan x reader #han taesan #taesan #dongmin boynextdoor #han dongmin #tae

[writer-in-theory]

mid-sized city hopes & small town fears — steddie.

Summary: When Steve buys the first bus ticket out of Indiana, he never expected to meet someone like Eddie. Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson Word Count: 4.6k Content Warnings: Language Exchange Request: Meet-cute OR secret relationship, Fame AU meets Mundane AU, Seeing a celebrity in an unexpected and seemingly ordinary place or scenario A/N: Hi everyone! I'm so excited to be writing this for the @steddiesummerexchange for @roomwithanopenfire . Thank you so much for running this event, and thank you Lily for the wonderful prompts to work from. I hope you enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Steve didn’t know where he was going. 

The bus ticket sat delicately in his hands, held between the fingers of both hands like any more tangible touch would shatter it to pieces. A city was printed on both sides of the paper, but no matter how many minutes ticked by Steve still couldn’t bring himself to read it. Would it even matter, to know where his choices were taking him when all he really cared about was leaving where he was now?

It was 3 a.m. and he was the only one at the bus stop, a single backpack sat on the bench beside him. In two hours, Robin would be the first to notice he was gone. She would wake up for the barista job they worked together to pay rent, and would find the apartment empty save the debit card connected to all the money his parents had left him. There was no use he could think of for it, except to make sure that his friend would be okay in his sudden departure from their shared home. After her, Nancy would know because she knew everything that Robin did, inevitably. Dustin would be the last to find out, because he was in his first year at Caltech and no one wanted to upset him during such a pivotal time. At least, that’s what Steve hoped anyway. 

They would all call him, but Steve wouldn’t answer because his phone was left behind, too, tucked away in the top drawer of his desk that couldn’t open all the way. It was better that way, he knew (if they called, he would answer, he would come home if they asked). 

Indiana was the only home Steve knew, and some part of him trembled at the thought of leaving it all behind. Before he’d died, Robert Harrington—and fuck, when did he stop thinking of the man as Dad?—had made it clear that Steve wasn’t capable of making it in the world outside of Hawkins where the Harrington name was enough to keep him afloat and surviving long past his parents’ unexpected passage. Robert may have been right, of course, because who packed a bag and bought the first bus ticket out of the state with no plan for what to do when he got to his final destination?

A small town barista with nothing to lose, he supposed.

No longer was he the only passenger waiting for the bus to arrive. Another man sat down on the other side of the small bench, dipping his head low to keep his face covered by the baseball cap he wore. All Steve could see was curly black hair pulled haphazardly into a bun at the nape of the man’s neck, several strands falling loose around his face and over the denim jacket he wore. He also only had one bag, a black duffel tossed on the concrete platform despite the rain beginning to soak the material.

Steve turned back to look down at his hands and the infernal ticket he still refused to look at, allowing the silence to settle over them for another few minutes. It was only when his mind turned back to all of the uncertainties ahead of him that Steve found himself turning back to face the stranger, desperate for something to distract himself with.

“I thought I’d be the only person traveling this late,” Steve admitted. “Where’re you headed?”

The other man didn’t look at him, only turning his chin enough to let Steve know that he’d heard. “Boston. It’s the only bus outta here until morning.”

Huh, so Steve was going to Boston. He’d never been to the New England area before. Robin’s mom loved the Red Sox, he should send her a postcard from Fenway if they wouldn’t all hate him after this stunt.

“Right, I knew that,” Steve covered, cheeks burning red at the thought of this man knowing about his impulsive decisions. “Because, uh, I’m going to Boston, too. Obviously.”

“You okay?” 

Steve hummed, unsure how to begin answering the other man. “I’m not, like, some creep. You don’t have to worry about that.”

The other man laughed. The sound was a little sharp around the edges but joyous all the same, like the man wasn’t quite used to it being pulled from him. It was unique and Steve wanted to hear it again and again if only for the unexpectedness of it. No, don’t fall for the bus stop stranger. He could be a serial killer, Steven! What would Robin think?

Robin would say ‘get it’. 

“Sorry, man, but that’s what a creep would say.” The man was joking based on the hint of laughter that carried through his voice. He finally looked up, revealing wide brown eyes with crinkles in the skin at the edge of them from his smile. “But I’ll believe you.”

“Why’s that?”

The man watched him for a moment. It reminded Steve of when his father had stood back and watched him kick a soccer ball at the wall in his frustration. Robert had known the ball would come back and knock Steve off of his feet, but he’d let the scene play out anyway. That same knowing look was on the man’s face now, like he was watching a scene in a movie he’d already seen before. It was strange, and completely out of place for two strangers at a bus stop, but somehow it made too much sense for the moment. 

Then the man simply shrugged, looking for all the world like someone who had dodged a speeding car with the relief on his face. “You have a trustworthy face.” It didn’t sound like the right answer, but Steve didn’t have any grounds to contest it on. 

“What’s in Boston?” Steve asked after a momentary lapse into silence, knocking the back of his head against the cover over the bench and turning it to face the man. 

“Uh…baked beans?”

“What?” It was Steve’s turn to croak out a laugh, the sound carrying out across the entire station. Did the man mean to be funny, or was that simply a bonus to his personality? “I meant what’s waiting for you out there. I mean, you gotta have something you’re headed toward?”

“Can I let you in on a little secret, from one late night bus creep to another?” the man asked, leaning over and placing a hand on the side of his mouth in a mock whisper. “Maybe I’ve got something I’m running from.”

The words should send alarm bells ringing in Steve’s head. Instead, he leaned closer and asked, “What are you running from?”

“Is it cheesy to say expectations?”

“Hm, maybe. But that makes two of us,” Steve answered honestly, fingers tightening around his bus ticket. “I’ll tell you a secret too. I had no idea where I wanted to go, just that I needed out of here today. I didn’t know where we were going until you told me.”

“Well, aren’t we a perfect pair...?” The man began, trailing off and looking at Steve expectantly after. 

“Steve.” Then, when the man didn’t reciprocate right away, “And you?”

This seemed to startle the man. His head reeled back a little, eyes wider as he watched Steve. “Wait, really?”

Who was this guy? Suddenly, Steve began to wonder if, through all of the jokes, this man actually was just some bus stop creep. Why would a name be such a big deal?

Then, all at once, the man relaxed again. If anything, he seemed to relax even more than before. His shoulders nearly completely slumped over with the clear relief at…whatever he’d been expecting to happen then. “I’m Eddie. It’s good to meet you, Steve.”

Conversation was easy with Eddie. They didn’t talk about anything that mattered—what pasta shape was the best, if they thought aliens were real, even what department store they’d choose to be stuck in for a night—but Steve was captivated by what Eddie had to say regardless. The conversation flowed straight through until the bus finally arrived to the station. Steve expected the conversation to end there, the entire night fading away into some strange but pleasant interaction with another lost stranger. 

Except, despite the bus being mostly empty at the late hour, Eddie chose the seat beside Steve.

Eddie chose Steve, his brain supplied unhelpfully. The brief spark of joy at that felt equally as silly as it did pleasant, because how bad could his life have been in Hawkins for him to be relieved that a stranger enjoyed talking about him? They didn’t talk much for the first few hours of the trip, but that suited Steve just fine. After all, it was still the middle of the night and he was already beginning to feel the settling of sleep in his body. It was a comfort simply to know there was someone he even vaguely knew beside him. 

It wasn’t until the sun began to rise on the horizon that Steve thought of Hawkins again. He wondered what Robin would be doing. Was she trying to look for him, or was she simply getting ready for work like nothing had happened? Had she even noticed that he was gone, had anyone? Maybe it was for the best of they didn’t—if, like a ghost, Steve disappeared in the middle of the night and was never heard from again. It had been clear for years that he didn’t quite fit in there, at least, not with the image that everyone had already created for him. Sure at one time he might’ve, but there came a point when he wanted to be more than the guy with good looks and a charming personality who know one really expected much from. Even his friends looked at him like he was a joke, like all he really had to offer was free car rides or someone to pick fun at. And it was fine, really he loved his friends more than anything, but for once he wished he could be more than that for someone, anyone.

Which was why, when the bus finally arrived in Boston the next night, Steve didn’t immediately take off. Eddie stood near him at the bus stop, one hand tucked into his jeans pocket and the other holding onto his duffel bag. A couple of his fingers were picking at a loose thread on the handle of the bag, and Steve had to wonder if Eddie even realized he was doing it. 

“Hey, so uh, at the threat of sounding like that bus stop creep,” Eddie began, a breathy laugh sounding overtop the words.

When the other man didn’t continue, Steve had the urge to make it at least a little easier for him. “Thought we agreed back in Indianapolis neither of us could be creeps.”

It was simple, but the words seemed to do the trick at least for long enough that Eddie could get his question out. “Well, just that it’s already late and Boston isn’t exactly safe alone. We both said we wanted a new start but who’s to say it wouldn’t be more fun if…what I mean to say is….”

Something told Steve that this nervousness was bizarrely out of character for a guy like Eddie. He exuded confidence in the way movie stars did, like he never cared what the people around him thought. But for some reason, after just a day together, he seemed to care what Steve thought of him. 

It was fucking crazy, and Steve knew that if Robin was there she’d yell about all of the ways he could be found dead the next morning if he agreed to staying with a stranger. 

And yet.

“How about we find a hotel room for the night? We can explore the city together in the morning.”

They ended up at a midtier hotel—the kind that always aired commercials about being perfect for nuclear family getaways as if the small enclosed space wouldn’t spark even more arguments between even the most loving families. It was nicer than the shitty motel rooms he and Robin had stayed in when they planned a last-minute road trip out to California to “find themselves” (spoiler alert: they found nothing except the beaches of LA were way too crowded), but not quite so nice as to blow all of his savings from the barista job he’d had for the past few years. 

Eddie seemed downright thrilled. He flopped right down on one of the small, lumpy twin beds—why had Steve been half-expecting to see only one of them when they walked in?—and let out a large sigh. “I haven’t stayed in one of these since I was a kid, I almost forgot how small and vaguely smokey they were.” From the way he kept his eyes closed and didn’t even look for a response, Steve had to wonder if he even meant to say it aloud.

“Not one for traveling?”

“Huh? Nah I travel all the time.”

Okay, the image the new details gave were kind of strange. What kind of guy travelled all the time but never stayed in a hotel room? “Please don’t tell me you’re the kind of guy who thinks staying overnight in your car is safe. I’ve already had to convince one friend it’s not,” Steve groaned, thinking of the one screaming match he and Robin had in the parking lot of a highway rest stop about not just sleeping there, pulled to the side of the road. 

Eddie opened his eyes to track Steve’s movement across the room. It was only once he’d laid down in the other bed that Eddie finally answered, seeming a little more on edge than before. “In a car? Who would do that if you had any other option?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Steve laughed, pleased that at least someone agreed with him. “What has you traveling so much? Is it for work?”

“Uh…yeah, yeah you could say that.” Eddie didn’t say anything more about the topic, and though every increasingly shifty response about himself made Steve wonder if he was traveling with a mob boss or something, he didn’t press any further. Mostly because it was already well past midnight and Steve actually wanted to use the next day out in the city doing something fun. 

So he let himself relax into the bed, hoping his decision to stay the night in a hotel room with a stranger wasn’t a catastrophically terrible mistake.

“All I’m saying is anyone who thinks a New England beach is the same as a California beach is wrong!” Eddie shouted, catching the attention of more than a few passersby with his dramatics. “They’re inherently different with completely different vibes.”

“So are you saying New England beaches suck? I have a feeling someone here’d fight you for that,” Steve laughed, letting his head tip back to catch more of the suns rays on his face. It was still a little cool to be sitting on a beach, but when Eddie had suggested seeing what the beaches of Boston had to offer, Steve couldn’t refuse.

They’d spent their morning seeing many of the traditionally tourist sites. They checked out Fenway Park, and Steve dutifully wrote a postcard for Robin, though he wouldn’t send it until he’d left Boston. Eddie took him to the Boston Common and even over to the harbor, though that was the extent of their historical site visits if only because neither of them could pay attention long enough to get the experience. 

Afterward, when they’d had lunch at a little hole in the wall place that Steve was sure he’d never be able to find again, Steve suggested the beach. It wasn’t too crowded if only because the weather wasn’t summer-y enough yet, leaving him and Eddie to enjoy the rest of their afternoon in relative peace.

It was a good day, far from the lonely existence that Steve had been expecting when he took off on his own on a whim.

“You’re putting words in my mouth, Harrington,” Eddie returned, pointing his finger at him without any of the seriousness the gesture should’ve contained. “Both are great, but they’re not the same.”

“It is pretty peaceful though,” Steve said. “I could stay here and never move again.”

Eddie sat back on his hands and relaxed much in the same way Steve did, though instead of looking up toward the sky he looked over at Steve. “Do you think you’ll go back?”

“To the hotel? Yeah, when the beach closes.”

“No, I mean to whatever town you came from,” Eddie clarified. “Do you wanna go back?”

It seemingly came out of nowhere, but Steve had to assume from the suddenly serious expression on Eddie’s face that he was thinking of whatever he was running from too. 

“I don’t know,” Steve answered honestly. “It’s the only place I’ve ever known. It’s…comfortable. It sounds weird, man, but maybe I want to be uncomfortable? Like going to a new place, meeting people who have no idea who I was before now, that’s kinda thrilling isn’t it?”

“Staying the night in a hotel room with a stranger?” Eddie offered as if to lighten the conversation, smiling warmly at him.

“Yeah that,” Steve laughed. “I just. I miss my friends, but I also want to know I can do this without them.”

“This?”

Steve gestured around him, shrugging a little. “Life, I guess? People back home think I’m…I don’t know, stupid or something. I’m the butt of the joke, and I’m fine with that, really, but I want to know I can be more than that too.”

For a moment, Eddie didn’t say anything. He wasn’t even looking at Steve either, instead focusing somewhere out on the horizon. If he hadn’t already begun to learn that this meant Eddie was considering what Steve had said carefully, Steve would have assumed he wasn’t listening at all.

“Yeah, I get that,” Eddie finally said what felt like minutes later, voice more quiet than Steve had ever heard it. He turned back to face Steve, brown eyes full of an emotion that felt weightier than the moment called for. It stunned Steve into silence, struck by the sudden admission from the man.

“Do people underestimate you too?”

Eddie scoffed out a laugh. “You could say that. It’s like when you’re in a room and everyone’s staring at you, but they don’t really see you. You know?”

“Yeah, I do know.” Steve paused, knowing that any talk of where Eddie had been before could be a sore subject. Up until now, the man had shut down every conversation about it, had dodged any question Steve had for him. But he was too curious now not to ask, now that the doors had been opened. “Are you gonna go back?”

“I’ll go back eventually, but being out here, it’s nice. It’s nice knowing I can be more than what people think of me, too.”

Steve heard what Eddie didn’t say as loudly as he heard what Eddie had said. It’s nice being out here with you.

“This might be crazy,” Steve whispered, eyes dropping to Eddie’s lips. They were a little chapped, broken in places where Eddie had chewed on them out of nerves. “This might be really crazy.”

“Be a little crazy, Steve,” Eddie whispered back, not moving away as Steve began to lean forward. 

The kiss was gentle, barely there. Steve had kissed plenty of guys before, plenty of strangers, even. But this felt altogether different in a way Steve couldn’t begin to explain, like it could be the start of something entirely new and exhilarating in a way he’d never experienced before. Eddie was still practically a stranger in every way that mattered, and yet Steve found himself wishing he could have more moments like this, tucked away in their corner of the beach. Eddie understood him in ways noone else had dared to try before, and that was so shocking that Steve couldn’t help but begin to fall. 

Even more surprising was the flash of light. 

At first, Steve thought maybe lightning had struck in front of them. Maybe the pain of being electrocuted was so strong that Steve’s body hadn’t even registered it. 

But then the shouting started. 

When Steve turned, he saw a half dozen people holding cameras pointed at the two of them. A small crowd had begun to gather around them, though, all of them talking excitedly and pointing like he and Eddie were zoo animals in an enclosure. 

“What the fuck?” Steve hissed, stunned by the sudden attention. 

Eddie didn’t look shocked in the least. If anything, he seemed resigned to it.

Like he was used to this.

“Eddie, where have you been all this time?”

“Did you run away to be with a secret lover?”

“Who is this, Eddie?”

“Are you quitting the band?”

“Did you move to Boston?”

The questions didn’t stop coming, directed from the people with cameras and microphones, but also from the crowd of fans (and oh God, why did Eddie have fans?) that had gathered. They started asking Steve things too, anything from about who he was to if he was trying to tear the band apart, as if Steve knew what fucking band they were even talking about. 

Within moments, their little corner of the world had been exposed. 

As quickly as the paparazzi appeared, Steve stood and tried to disappear. He didn’t run, figuring that would only call even more unwanted attention to him. But he did move quickly, head tucked down so his hair might be able to cover his quickly reddening face. 

“Steve,” Eddie called out, hand reaching out to hold onto his arm. Steve shook it off, keeping his face turned away so he wouldn’t be anymore humiliated in front of the man and the rest of the world.

Steve kept walking. Eddie didn’t chase him.

Eddie was a fucking celebrity. A musician, from the sounds of it. Suddenly all of it made sense, leaving Steve with the feeling that maybe his friends were right about him after all. How could he have not seen it before? Eddie had looked surprised when Steve asked for his name, like he wasn’t used to having to introduce himself. Because he wasn’t. He traveled a lot, and wasn’t used to staying in hotel rooms that probably looked shitty compared to the luxury places he got to stay in. 

Was he using Steve as a piece of entertainment on whatever trip he was on now?

Except.

The look on Eddie’s face had seemed real, when he’d told Steve that he understood him. When he said he wanted to be more than what people thought of him, that he enjoyed being with Steve because they both could be whoever they wanted to be without any expectations of otherwise. He’d seemed genuinely relieved when Steve spoke to him normally at the bus stop, likely because everywhere he went he got the reaction that Steve had just run away from. It was the same reason Steve had left without letting anyone know where he’d gone, the same reason he didn’t want to send that postcard until after he’d already left Boston so he couldn’t be tracked. 

God, Steve could understand why Eddie hadn’t told him. 

There was no going back to the beach, not when the cameras were still there to catch every word. He didn’t want the world to hear what he had to say, not like this. He ended up back in the hotel room, thankful that noone had followed him there. The room was startlingly quiet. At least Eddie’s things were still there, sat on the floor at the end of his bed. That meant that the man had to come back, right? There would be a chance to say something, to tell him why he’d taken off in the first place.

As the time passed, Steve began to doubt. Maybe Eddie was rich enough that he wouldn’t care about one duffel bag of things. He might’ve already taken off back to California, back to his life as a celebrity where Steve wouldn’t have belonged anyway. 

Maybe it was for the best that Steve didn’t have the chance to be rejected by the first person who had really seen him.

Turning on the TV was a mistake. On the news was a grainy video of him and Eddie, sitting on the beach together. The camera had captured the end of their kiss all the way through when Steve had run off. It was being called an affair of all things, as if this was some forbidden romance. 

There was no hiding who he was. The journalist was calling him a mystery man, but everyone back home would easily be able to see where he was. What would his friends say—what would Robin say—when they saw this? Would they think that Steve ran away to go be with a celebrity, as if any of this had been planned?

When all of this was over, one way or another, Steve needed to find a payphone and call Robin. His best friend deserved answers, after this.

Three hours after the incident on the beach, the door to the hotel room finally opened. Standing there was Eddie, looking exhausted and rung out in a way Steve hadn’t seen since the night at the bus stop. Was this why Eddie had run away from his fame?

“I just came back to get my stuff, I promise noone followed me here,” Eddie said, keeping his gaze pointed on the old carpet instead of at Steve. “I really am sorry, Steve. I wanted to tell you, I just…”

Steve shrugged, having had his time alone to process everything and coming to the same conclusion anyway. “It was nice, having someone not think of you as some…famous musician.”

When Steve didn’t respond with anger or accusations, Eddie’s head whipped up in surprise. His brown eyes were wide, lips parted in clear shock as he watched Steve. 

“You’re not…mad?”

“I mean, I was at first,” Steve admitted, standing up from his spot on the bed to stand in front of Eddie. “Mostly embarrassed, that so many people had seen me. But I get it now. It’s probably not common for people not to recognize you.”

“You have no idea,” Eddie said, a hint of laughter carrying through his voice now. “I thought you were lying at first.”

“My friends call me oblivious all the time,” Steve admitted. “I don’t really listen to current music.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Eddie laughed. “I do really like you Steve, that part wasn’t a lie.”

“Well good, because I really like you too.”

“I have to get back to LA soon, now that everyone knows where I am,” Eddie admitted. “This sounds fucking crazy, but would you come with me?”

“Eddie, I chose to sleep in a hotel room with you when I hardly knew you,” Steve pointed out.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s not a no,” Steve said, smiling. It would be the most impulsive thing that he’d ever done, but Steve couldn’t imagine a future where he let Eddie walk out that door without him.

Steve didn’t know how things would turn out. By all accounts, he and Eddie still didn’t know each other well. But hell, was Steve excited to learn. 

“But uh, could we make a stop on the way?” Steve asked. “I need to explain some things to a friend. I think you’ll like her.”

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie summer exchange

[66sharkteeth]

Hey man. No offense (genuinely, not sure if theres a bette way to ask this) but why do you care so much about a small handful of fans not understanding a few parts of the story? Yeah it's been explained before but with most if not all works - especially ones with a big audience - there are always people who misunderstand or missed something. Or just have a different opinion coz art can be subjective like that. Not trying to criticize you at all, but just seemed like a good amount of your frustrated rants come from this so, wondering why.

ahaha i literally asked about this on twitter yesterday... asking how i can remind people about events and facts in the story without coming off mean or condescending.

i SWEAR 99% of the time I'm not actually mad at someone just...forgetting or mixing things up, but i've been worried i've been coming off wrong lately so that's precisely why i asked haha. definitely gonna be working on my tone!

if you mean like in my weekly thoughts tho, those are very much kind of just...brain rambles. i know there was one a few weeks ago i was legit kind of mad during...but most of that wasn't even over misunderstandings, it was frustration over people not being able to differentiate their tastes and criticism, like how I get frustrated when people say horror is bad just because...they don't like horror. Like no, it's not bad, it's just not for you. I wanna be able to tell dark stories and it's frustrating when people tell me I'm a bad writer simply because they don't like dark stories. That's the only time in recent memory I've been...legit frustrated haha.

I swear tho, I'm 99% of the time not actually mad in my posts here (regarding misunderstandings) but i know i can get excited and use caps lock a lot which can come off cranky but i swear i'm trying to sound more in the tone of

There's exceptions like the note above and times when people were being incredibly violent and gross to Lyss last season (sorry, I just don't love reading misogynistic comments about how my character deserves a violent death to the point some people legit harassed me about her). but overall, i'm NOT mad and am trying harder to make that clear in my tone.

now... if you mean me getting sad when there's one harsh comment out of 100... sorry, that's just how my brain works ahah. i know i'm definitely not alone in that. it's just a lot easier to remember a bee sting that's still throbbing a few days later than 100 butterflies, no matter how pretty they were.

[xmochaccinox]

(Cw: assumed death / injury / blood / breakdown)

3 am

A knock is heard banging against the door, awakening April from her slumber. Through her tired confusion, she jumps out of bed and stumble towards the window where the noise came from, a familiar shadowed figure standing just outside

"...Donnie..?"

April rubs her eyes with a yawn before opening her window. "Jesus Christ, it's- Whoa!" she yelps as she is pushed to the side by Donnie scrambling to get inside. They rush towards the bathroom, slamming the door behind them, leaving a now confused April standing there wondering what just happened

Donnie presses their back against the door as though something was about to come bursting through it at any moment, their chest heaving heavily. Their eyes are wide, their vision threatening to be engulfed by the black shadows. Only one thought echoed in their mind

[What have I done? What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?]

Slowly they look down at their hands, staring at the blood that stained them

What had they done?

•••

Donnie stands there. Their hands are trembling, their heart racing against their chest, their breathing slow, heavy, ragged. Everything inside of them is screaming at them to run away and hide. Hide away until the danger is gone, but their body stands there, completely frozen

Their eyes fixate on something in front of them, something that they cannot tell is even real or not

A body- No. An elderly woman lays there. There's a gash on her head with blood surrounding her. Her eyes, so full of shock and pain yet so empty at the same time, are wide open, staring up towards the night sky

Donnie for the life of them can't remember how they ended up here, all they remember is that they did this

The smell of blood filling the air made Donnie nauseated, but they find themself still hesitantly approaching the woman

She can't be dead. She's gotta be alive still, right? There's a hospital nearby. Maybe Donnie can just get her there real quick. No one will know that they left, they-

"Ms Morrison!"

Donnie stops, the world around them becoming frozen in time. They didn't even get to react when they feel a giant red glowing fist collide into them, sending them into a wall. Donnie groans in pain before slowly opening their eyes

Through the blurriness of black dots is rabidly filling their vision, Donnie spotted Raph holding Ms Morrison in his arms, Mikey standing with him, and Leo standing just in front of Donnie with a katana pointed to their throat. All three of them glared at Donnie with a cold, dirty look. A look that Donnie deserved

A loud clang is suddenly heard seconds before Leo is knocked away from Donnie. Leo is heard giving the intruder a snide remark, but his words sounds nothing but a muddled mess behind the ringing that's filled Donnie's ears

•••

Donnie moves towards the sink. They turn both knobs to turn the water on. They reach for the soap, removing the cap and shaking globs of soap onto their hands before shoving them under the rushing water. They scrub and scrub, desperate to get the blood off their own hands. Yet no matter how hard they scratch their claws against their skin, Donnie still sees the blood as crimson as ever. The scent of the blood still fills the air

All the screams of fear and agony; all the pleas for mercy, for an end to the suffering; every single sound engraved into Donnie's mind, haunting their dreams each and every night. Now the sickening sound of that poor elderly woman's head being cracked open would haunt them even more

It was supposed to be a simple mission. It was all supposed to be so simple! All Donnie needed to do was keep anyone from interfering, how did the situation escalate to... that?

A soft knock is heard, interrupting Donnie's pondering

"Donnie?" April calls from behind the door

Donnie let out a small, scared whine. They forgot to lock the door... They open their mouth in an attempt to maybe try and make April believe that everything is alright, but they could barely make a single sound

"Donnie... I'm coming in"

Before Donnie could protest, the door swings open. April's eyes widen slightly at the sight in front of her. "Donnie..." her eyes move towards Donnie's eyes which are filled with fright, "Donnie, sweetie... What happened?" she asks, slowly approaching the soft shell

Once again, April manages to cut through Donnie's own thoughts with a small, simple question, "Donnie... Can I hug you?"

April reaches a hand towards Donnie, only for her to pull back when Donnie flinches and let out a low hiss. She looks down at their hands, all covered in scratches and the suds by now rinsed off. Her hands instead turn to the sink, switching the water off. Donnie remains unmoving until April tries to grasp their hands once again to which they immediately pull away, this time cradling their hands into their chest. A burning hot sensation fills Donnie's eyes. They squeeze their eyes shut, trying their best to stop themselves from crying. They don't deserve to cry, not after what they've done

Before the soft shell could stop themself, they slowly nodded. Soon they feel April wrap her arms around them. No longer could they hold back their tears as they let out a shaky sob. The two collapse onto the ground, April slowly rubbing Donnie's back, her mind wondering what on earth happened tonight to bring Donnie to such a state

Yet for now, she chooses to not ask, the two sitting in silence that's only filled with Donnie's soft crying

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt donnie #rottmnt donnie #tmnt april #rottmnt april #cw blood #cw injury #cw assumed death #cw breakdown

[nanamiscocksleeve]

POLL TIME! THIRSTY WEEKEND UPDATE!

I will have another poll after this one so please keep an eye out for that too. Scroll down for this poll.

Ok, so here are those thoughts I was talking about. Thirsty Weekends has been amazing. I want to keep doing this. I've already made a few changes, including reducing it to 2 times a month so that I have more time to work on requests.

However, I find I'm still struggling to keep up with writing and haven't done any of my own wips. I love that it got so popular, so as with all good things, I'd rather find a solution than not do it all together. Essentially I want to be able to write out all my requests by the end of Sunday or at the latest, Monday evening.

The solution I've come up with is to reduce the number of prompts per list and to also decrease the cap. Here's where you come in my fellow thirsters. Please vote and let me know what you would like this reduction to be. I love you all so much, and Thirsty Weekends would have never gotten to where it was if it wasn't for you guys.

As always, there's pros and cons. More prompts = more variety of scenarios, but limited character requests Less prompts = more chances to send in but higher chance of repeats and less scenario creativity

VOTE NOW!

#thirsty weekends #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #thirst prompts #jjk thirsts #ncs #ncs poll #ncs thinks #tumblr polls #my polls

[evaelace]

I haven’t posted about Triple Frontier in so long.

I literally do not even have my Triple Frontier blog anymore (lol suddenly I miss TripleIssue so much wow what a time of my life that was) but please.

Please. I just saw a video that has inspired the most emotional scene in my head about Benjamin Miller and I cannot stop thinking about it. (Thank you TikTok for inspiring me every day in the most random ways.)

Benjamín Miller that we all know would have a soft spot for kids (it definitely started with Frankie’s baby if not before that please bear with me here). Ben Miller that would have so much struggle feeling worthy of love but absolutely no problem falling in love with a single parent and their child.

Benny Miller that would show up for his little family every single day no matter the event, day, time, reason. If they call, he is coming. Hell, they don’t have to call because he is already there.

Benjamin Miller who would so happily take on the role of husband and father and caregiver and best friend because that’s who he is: protective and caring and so in love with his people.

And okay I’ll get to the point now but can we imagine that child getting to an age where they are able to legally change their last name on their own accord and they want to change it to Miller and as a surprise they hand him the official documents for making that request. And Benjamin Miller would unwrap it so delicately even though he has no idea what it is yet. And then he would be so confused at first… Reading that paper as quickly as he can to what they were so excited to be giving him… and then it hit would him. That they chose him the same way he chose them. The same way that he would choose them every single day whether he thought he was worthy of the opportunity or not.

The way his eyes would snap up from that paper, shining under the brim of an old baseball cap as he holds his breath hoping it’ll keep the tears in too. The way he would have to stumble forward into a hug where neither one of them is sure who is holding the other up.

I am distraught over this and I just had to rant about it this is so poorly worded I’m so sorry.

( @wyn-n-tonic please tell me you can see this too and I’m not rambling like a crazy person about nothing.)

#Triple Frontier #Triple Frontier movie #Triple Frontier Imagine #Triple Frontier Headcanon #Benjamin Miller #Ben Miller #Benny Miller #Benny Triple Frontier #Benjamin Miller Triple Frontier #Benny Miller Fic #Benjamin Miller Fic #Triple Frontier Fanfic #Triple Frontier Fic

[brilliantfantasticgeronimo]

(early) torchwood and facism

#making a separate post of it so i can reference it on my meta for the episode #footnotes tumblr style lol #dw #bro i really wasnt expecting s2 to have so much colonialism meta juice in it but once you notice it ... it really is everywhere #there's some stuff on the impossible planet as well #which ill also explain later lol #for now have these caps and know there's Thoughts coming up #60threwatch #dw meta #oh yeah there's some stories set in 'torchwood india' right in the eu? #i wonder if they do anything with this stuff

[astarlightmonbebe]

petition for kim kwon to stop choosing psycho roles please

#star stumbles #the killing vote #kdrama #ok. they could still prove me wrong #but i really want him in another role like sungmo in he is psychometric #i mean. i can forgive murder but not psychosexual behavior against women you know #i really hope he's not going to turn out to be the real person who killed seungjoo's daughter. #though granted i used to think they were stepsiblings but now it seems like he divorced min jiyoung prior to narae's death??? #hmm i just wonder like. how can someone who seems to have some stuff deeply wrong with him end up playing justice with gaetal #ok. i have a lot more thoughts but i need to cap it here #episode 5 should come out tomorrow instead of next week still can't believe i'm being drip fed this show

[hella1975]

WHY ARE YOU MESSAGING ME NOW OF ALL TIMES 🤺🤺 BACK 🤺 BACK I SAY 🤺🤺🤺

#not the childhood best friend popping up it’s as if he knows my mental health is fucked when I’m home #he said yes now is a great time to reach out actually #and he’s right too! i know damn well I’m gonna respond! #basically <- typed that word and burst out laughing bc idk how to even START explaining this mf to you guys #basicallyyyy me and him were in the same form at secondary so EVERY DAY we saw each other and in year 8 we dated #for a good while actually but tbh my mental health was FUCKED all caps FUCKED in year 8 like there was nothing special about it #it's just i reckon it was the first proper depressive episode i had and being so young i didnt know yet how to handle it #so i just spiralled and i did some really awful things and my home life really suffered for it and being me no one at school had a CLUE #so he was just like 'yes we are in love!' and i knew i didn't like him romantcially but i strung him along anyway #bc he genuinely was one of the few things keeping me above water at the time #which looking back i now know was a bad thing to do and i should have called it off sooner but like #his friendship was EVERYTHING to me at the time bc he was like really. adoring? he was really really infatuated with me #and at a time when i was convinced i was a monster it was just. i cannot explain how much he kept me sane #though he was obvs OBLIVIOUS to all that and when i finally got Mentally Healthy again i obvs broke up with him bc it was the right #thing to do and he was DEVASTATED like this man was vaguing about me on sc and refused to talk to me for MONTHS #but eventually we became friends again and at a time when i was changing friendship groups every YEAR if that he was just #a really consistant point in my life and i loved him a lot. BUT he always went for really batshit girlfriends and they always HATED me #no matter how nice i was to them and he'd always break up with them and crawl back to me and we argued like cat and dog like #he's the only friend ive ever had where we argued ALL THE TIME and he still liked me enough to come back #i genuinely thought the world of him despite everything we just have sooo much history #AND NOW HE'S MESSAGING ME???? god im not your strongest soldier

[hychlorions]

pov you’re my friend and it’s just another 12am on a monday

#.docx #you get it. #speaking of math do u guys wanna hear about how the penrose theatre is such a good name. #it's named after the penrose triangle!! popularized by lionel and roger penrose in the 1950s #roger penrose some 20 years later will come up with something called penrose tiling #it's a type of aperiodic tiling and other ways needed 100+ shapes to tile aperiodically #which in simple terms is like. you can't copy-paste a given pattern and have it fit without having to rotate it. smthn like that #they got to whittle that number down to 6 overtime. roger penrose got it down to two #interesting stuff but that's unimportant #now. a previous version of roger penrose's aperiodic tiling had a shape called a justice cap #it looks like a little paper boat. that's also unimportant #now penrose theatre appears in the magical turnabout #and you know who the lead defense attorney is there? Mr justice himself B) #anyway these are all probably just little coincidences and i sound a lil insane rn #but in a boring way #did i make this post just to ramble in the tags bc this penrose thing has been on my mind since last year? maybe #so i'm sorry if u read through this and thought i was leading up to something big lmao

[lokigodofaces]

still watching earth's mightiest heroes. imagine you're a 17 year old superhero who gets shredded for every little thing you do by the press and you watch the same thing happen to captain america after a skrull poses as cap (skrulls are all handled but people don't trust cap). then you end up meeting him and have to help him save civilians. the civilians keep saying they want nothing to do with you or cap, and you try to defend cap. you believe him, after all, you've found local newspapers to not be that accurate yourself. cap tells you to stand down, and that they just have to get the civilians out. when you ask him why he doesn't stand up for himself, he says that he has been watching you for years. every day, the news tears you apart, but you keep fighting. you don't ask for recognition or thanks, you just try to help others. your actions proved to cap that you are a good person, so it doesn't matter what the news thinks. and cap intends on doing the same thing you have done. imagine how you would feel. that's what it's like for spider-man in what is possibly the only episode he is in.

#that just made me super happy :D #peter parker #steve rogers #avengers: earth's mightiest heroes #also my theory about how they find out cap was a skrull was wrong #they were setting a winter soldier arc up so heavily i thought bucky would show up & then steve wouldnt react right & everyone would realiz #something was up. but no invasion came first. though i have now seen the winter soldier and not just 40s bucky! so thats exciting #also amora is possessed by surtur so that sucks for her. loki is still going through child friendly mythology based punishment so that suck #no one knows about bucky but the audience so we've got that coming. but steve does have very good reason to believe bucky is alive now!