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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR FOUR

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

→ wc: 3.8+

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

4:00 ──ㅇ──────────────── 24:00

BIRDIE created a groupchat.

BIRDIE added DINGUS, NANCE, JOHNNY, & ARGYLE 😎

DINGUS: why the fuck is my name dingus

BIRDIE: so… are we going to talk about how in love they look in that photo?

NANCE: Eddie looks like he’s going to commit a federal crime, Robin.

DINGUS: how do i change my name

ARGYLE 😎: a sign of true love my friends

BIRDIE: @NANCE SEE? he gets it.

JOHNNY: Is this chat really necessary?

DINGUS: guys seriously. how the fuck do i change my name?

—

HOUR FOUR - 7:00 PM

Let the record show that you don’t normally care about Lord of the Rings. You’d seen the movies out of obligation to your friends, nothing more, nothing less. You usually held complete indifference towards the trilogy. As a matter of fact, you’d nearly given Robin an aneurysm the day you’d informed them all you preferred the Hobbit trilogy over the original movies.

Eddie, it seems, holds a similar sentiment to Robin.

“I can’t believe you just said that to me,” he sighs dramatically, sinking into the couch and looking far more comfortable than he had previously. A bottle of cheap beer dangles carelessly in his hand. He’d decided to grab both of you one the moment this argument had begun, “You casually bring up Gandalf, and then you proceed to have the worst opinions on the greatest franchise of all time. A crime against humanity.”

“I’m sorry,” you say sincerely through genuine laughter.

You were laughing. You were sitting on Eddie Munson’s couch, in his apartment, laughing with him rather than at him. It was a fluke in the system, a blip in the Universe. You tell yourself it’s just the effects of the beer.

“What’s next? You tell me you prefer Star Wars over Star Trek? Or, let me guess, you’ve never read the books?”

He looks nice like this, at ease. This hour might be setting the track record for the longest the two of you had gone without insulting one another, and you begin to wonder why you’d never been able to hold such a civil conversation with him before tonight. The two of you might not be agreeing or seeing completely eye to eye, but there was enough agreement to keep the entire debate chugging along.

He notices your silence as you take a sip of the beer you’ve nearly polished off, smirking around the rim of it, a bit of beer lingering at the corner of your mouth. “Oh my God. You’ve never read the books.”

“I never said that!”

“You never said you did!”

Your mouth is open, fighting back at the curl of the corners, unable to defend yourself because he was right. “I- Who even reads anymore?”

“Excuse me?” his voice pitches as he sits up straight suddenly, “Oh, no. There’s no way you just said that. There’s no way you don’t read.”

You shrug, and his beer is quickly set to the side.

“C’mon, everyone reads. You’ve got to have a guilty pleasure book.”

“Nope,” you tuck your bottle between your thighs, and catch the way his eyes had followed the bottle before snapping back to yours, “I just prefer the movies, I guess.”

“No one prefers the movies. You’re a goddamn liar,” he shakes his head and some of the frizzy curls fall against his collar bones rather than continuing to tickle his shoulders, “You have to read something. Romance novels, boring essays, the news. Hell, even magazines or that written porn shi-” he cuts off when you smile at the mention of magazines. “Why are you smiling like that? Stop it. It’s creepy. Do you read those porno books?”

“God, no,” you laugh. A lie - you’d certainly read excerpts from Fifty Shades of Grey he was referencing to understand what the hype was to no prevail, “Just ironic you bring up magazines. You probably consider yourself a real connoisseur, don’t you?”

He flushes crimson. His cheeks that had tinged pink from the warmth of the beer are now flaming red. “I have no idea what you mean.”

He clearly did.

“Right,” you drawl, “So which article in that Playboy caught your eye? The one about the psychological deep dive into what makes sex so great, or the interview with that one porn star? No, wait, I got it! It was totally the one that gave fifteen ways to drive a girl crazy-”

“It’s not a fucking Seventeen magazine,” he snaps, but the malice in his voice is dull, “There’s no lists on how to get the girl, it’s a porn ‘zine, Jesus H. Christ.”

“I know that, do you?” you press, reveling in the brush crawling its way down the side of his neck.

He runs a hand over his face, groaning, “I’m not even going to entertain you with an answer. Fuck off.”

“Do you just ignore all the photos of the beautiful women?” you don’t hold back your teasing, subconsciously leaning his way as your voice lilts with sarcasm, “Ignoring all those bushes? Or maybe you just prefer the Brazilian cut?”

“I liked it better when we were talking about your illiteracy,” he deadpans, staring straight ahead at his entertainment center.

“I never said I couldn’t read, just that I choose not to most of the time,” you finally pull back a bit, scared to push it all too far. You pull your legs up beneath you on the couch and move the beer that has gone warm to the table on the opposite end as his, “Sue me for trying to make friendly conversation.”

You await his expected response about how this was not friendly conversation. You start to do mental gymnastics of a way to bring up the specific model he had marked the pages of, of the eerie resemblance she bears to you and a way to push his buttons regarding it. This conversation was following your script, not his.

Or at least, it was.

“Fine. I prefer the bush, I always find the lack of hair kind of weird,” he says, throwing you off your game effectively. He stares at you with now expecting eyes, “What about you?”

You’re grateful you’d stopped nursing the beer, or you surely would have choked, “What?”

“What’s your preference?” he clarifies, not backing down, “On yourself, on partners. Whatever.”

“I- I don’t- I never-” you stumble over your words, at a complete loss for an answer. It only makes him smirk as he’s now the one leaning in closer, close enough to catch the smell of his cologne concentrated on him.

You hadn’t realized you’d adjusted the boyish smell of the apartment until this very moment.

“See? Not so fun when you’re the one getting asked the personal questions.”

He’s right – you shouldn’t dish out what you can’t handle him throwing back into your face.

“Fine,” you mimic him, squaring your shoulders, “Bush.”

“On yourself or others?”

“Myself,” there was no use in being shy now, “But also on, uh, partners. Kind of unfair to expect something from someone I wouldn’t give in return.”

He nods in surprising consideration at the notion. His face twists as if he’s taking words you’d thrown out there so carelessly to heart, as if there’s some hidden message that even you hadn’t realized was laced in the notion. For a moment, you start to believe he’s committing the words to memory before he answers you.

“That’s fair,” is all he says.

A moment of intense thought for that?

“What? That’s all you’ve got to say?” you scoff, and busy yourself with the beer again out of nerves. It’s warm and bitter on your tongue, but it’s better than looking him in the eyes. Warm, honey eyes you’d never really cared to notice before.

“Yeah,” he lifts his shoulders into an offhand shrug, “I mean, what else is there to say? Like you said, you can’t expect something from someone you can’t return.”

Another silence drags out, and this time, it’s stifling. You never thought you’d live to see the day where Eddie being quiet would bother you, but it does. The lack of words in the air is leaving too much room for thought from both of you. It’s giving you too much time to think on those warm, honey eyes and those damn dimples. Trivial things about Eddie that you don’t care to remember past tonight.

“My friend collects vintage Playboys,” you blurt out, internally cursing yourself immediately. What a stupid conversation segway.

Should have teased him about the dog-eared pages, you regretfully think as you dare to look his way.

His face is surprisingly smooth, eyebrows quirking up into the frayed edges of his bangs, “Oh really?”

You nod, “Yeah. Hell of a lot more bushes in the seventies.”

A lot less of that model you like, you silently add, once more not voicing that concern out loud.

The dimples return. Those fucking dimples. “Hm, guess I should check them out, then.”

“She collects them for aesthetic purposes,” you continue to ramble, filling the air, unsure of why you’re even defending yourself. You’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Eddie to dissect the small piece of your life you’ve offered, “It’s… It’s really cool, actually.”

“It sounds cool,” he agrees gently.

The other shoe is left dangling in the air, if it even continues to exist.

You think about his earlier question, of whether you really wanted to keep up a miserable act for the entire twenty four hours. If the last hour hadn’t already solidified your answer, you knew now for a matter of fact that he had a point, even if he did proceed to insult you after the question. You didn’t want to spend this time miserable. The passing of time came easier when it was like this, all rounded-edged banter and friendly words exchanged. When Eddie Munson wasn’t being an asshole and making personal digs at you, he was actually a nice person to have around.

You’d never tell him that, of course.

“It’s why I collect all that,” he motions his hand towards the shelving of figurines and trinkets, “I just think it’s cool, you know? I… Uh, I sort of lied earlier. Most of that shit isn’t that expensive. But it’s not about how much it’s worth money-wise, it’s just worth a lot to… to me.”

A glimpse of crimson, a flash of vulnerability that proves that Eddie has a heart just as you do. It beats erratically, and it can bleed just the same.

“That makes sense,” you offer in response. You may not get it, but you wouldn’t push his buttons on the topic. They may be nothing but clutter from your perspective, but the same could be said about the vintage Playboys your friend collects. The same could be said about plenty of things that are sentimental to you. “Doesn’t it get creepy, though? Like, you bring home a girl-”

“Or a guy,” he interjects, making you smile.

“You bring home a girl, or a guy, and you’ve just got Gandalf staring you down while you make a move. Or… Or, Darth Vader?” you squint to pinpoint another figurine, “Is that Darth Vader? Didn’t you say Star Trek is better than Star Wars?”

“Never said that,” he points at you with a tilt of his head, “I just don’t prefer Star Wars over Star Trek.”

“Have you seen Star Wars? It’s way more entertaining.”

“Have you seen Star Trek?” he counters, but it’s clearly rhetorical as he continues on, “I like both. Having a preference for one doesn’t mean I’m completely against the other. Besides, the light saber effects are fucking incredible.”

“So you prefer the prequels?” you ask eagerly.

“I guess. I mean, the original trilogy is still badass and a classic,” he stands abruptly, and you’re worried you’ve said something wrong, but he just walks over to the Darth Vader figurine to pick it up and bring it back over with him as he flings down onto the couch, now several spaces closer to you rather than opposing ends, “It’s kind of hard to beat the ‘Luke, I am your father’ reveal,” his voice dips down to a deep tone, a fairly spot on impersonation, “But it was also nice seeing his origin story.”

“Plus Ewan McGregor and Hayden Christensen are gorgeous,” you add, almost daring to lean over and bump shoulders with him. But you don’t. You keep what little space remains between the two of you.

“Of course,” Eddie rolls his eyes, “The eye candy is what gets you.”

“And the cool effects!”

“Right. Next you’re going to say you definitely watched for the plot, huh?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“And the plot’s name just happens to be Ewan.”

You bite down the grin that starts to ache your cheeks, because you’re not supposed to smile around Eddie this much. “Now you’re getting it.”

The hand holding the Darth Vader figurine suddenly thrusts out in your direction, and you find yourself jumping a bit. When you don’t take it, he waves it around a bit, raising an eyebrow, “It doesn’t bite, you know.”

“You said to not touch your shit.”

It’s a pathetic lie, you both know it. But he doesn’t know how scared you are to brush fingertips with him, how the way his arm being so close has electricity buzzing from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head. One small shift, one outreached hand, and your skin would brush his.

It would surely be nuclear. An explosion with no survivors, least of all you.

“Oh, c’mon. You’ve disregarded that rule the entire time, why start being a goody two shoes now?” he teases.

Which is fine, except Eddie teases a certain way – with his entire body. His knee knocks into yours, he leans into your space, a boyish grin spreads over his lips. You’ve seen him dance around this kind of lighthearted conversation with everyone else in your friend group except you. It’s uncharted territory, and your heart nearly breaks out of your chest from its rapid racing.

You’re just lucky that there’s two layers of jeans between your knees. The nuclear explosion will have to wait for another day.

Instead of an answer, you reach out and grab the figurine nimbly by the small leg. Your fingertips narrowly evade Eddie’s and you’re eternally grateful and his arm retracts. You poke and prod, gently wiggling the red, flexible stick that serves as his lightsaber and pinch at the edges of his cape.

In your silence, Eddie speaks, “It’s not a crazy collectible or anything, like I said. It probably would have been more valuable to keep it in its packaging, but one time Wheeler brought his little sister over while they were in town, and she wanted to see him out of the box, so I took him out. You know Wheeler, right?”

You shake your head, inspecting the figurine even closer now. It still looks brand new; you’d never be able to tell that a child, presumably, had played with the ‘toy’.

“Oh,” Eddie looks taken back, faltering slightly, “Sorry, I- I just sort of assumed that…. You, uh…. You had met Steve’s children.”

“Oh!” your head shoots up from where your nose had been nearly pressed into the figure, taking in the detailing of the chest piece, “You mean Mike? I’ve heard about him, yeah. Just in passing, though.”

There’s more for Eddie to say, it’s clear in the way his mouth falls open with the corners quirked, but then you’re interrupted by a phone ringing.

Your phone.

Steve’s contact photo occupies the screen for the second time tonight, a ridiculous photo of him scowling at the camera in a yellow jumper while holding a can of pringles in front of him, one of his hands bringing a single chip to his pouting lips.

“Let me answer it,” Eddie insists, holding out his hand as you stare down at the phone, still chiming annoyingly.

“Were they supposed to call this often?” you ask, knowing well enough that Eddie didn’t have the answer.

His hand waves in impatience, and you don’t put up a fight as you let him take the phone and swipe the answering bar, focusing instead on the Darth Vader discarded into your lap as he puts the call on speaker.

“Hello?” Eddie answers in a chirpy tone.

“How many times do we have to te- hold on. Munson?” Steve starts off aggressive, but his tone melts into confusion, “Why the hell are you answering her phone?”

“Because I’ve murdered her,” he flatly replies, but his face doesn’t match his tone at all.

He fucking winks at you. Your grip on Darth Vader tightens until you’re afraid you're about to snap it.

“Not funny.”

“Not a joke.”

“Where is she, Eddie?” Steve sighs like an irritated parent, in no mood for games, “Please tell me you didn’t manage to make her lock herself in a room again.”

“I told you. She’s gone. Sacrificed to the Dark Lord or whatever. Just got to go dump her body in the lake-”

You shouldn’t joke along with him, but you still whisper the correction of, “The canals.”

“Sorry, I mean the canals.”

Another deep sigh. You can picture the way Steve was currently pinching the bridge of his nose at the two of you.

“I heard her, you idiot. Now that we know you’re both clearly alive and well…. Where the hell is our photo proof?”

You both share a look, and you quickly mouth, already?

Eddie shrugs and mouths back, I guess.

“We lost track of time,” you finally say out loud, still locked in eye contact with Eddie. His brown eyes are surprisingly captivating, several autumn shades all woven together. Burnt orange leaves, red apples, brown sweaters. You never thought you’d be able to see a season in someone’s irises, yet here you were, picturing it clear as day. “Let us hang up and we’ll send the photo.”

Steve starts to speak, but Eddie’s thumb is quick to end the call. The moment your lock screen stares back at both of you, you look at the time.

7:41. Shit.

“Oops,” Eddie whispers as he hands the phone back over, “They really gave us quite the grace period that time.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, quickly opening your damn camera app. “So, how do we want to do this one?”

Eddie thinks for a moment before he launches himself back to his side of the couch, and motions for you to toss him your phone.

And once again, you put your faith in him, not even hesitating this time.

It happens naturally; you both mirror each other, drawing up your knees, your sock-clad toes bumping firmly against one another. Your back is supported by the worn arm behind you, similar to how Eddie’s is, as you face him.

He quickly angles the camera towards you, sticking a hand out into the frame while raising his middle finger. You don’t know what to do, so one hand holds up the Darth Vader as the other mimics flipping him off.

A soft click from your phone. The photo’s taken, and you’re not even sure if you were smiling.

“Trade,” he leans forward, one hand holding out your phone, the other reaching out for Darth Vader.

You oblige, and go through the same process for his photo. His white socks contrast your black ones, and the corners of his lips twitch upwards no matter how hard of a line he presses them into. You can’t look at him directly, and settle for watching him through the screen as you hit the small grey button to snap the photo.

Just as quickly as he had shoved away from you, he’s back at your side, watching you send off the photos to the group chat with a thumbs up emoji. You take a deep breath, scanning over the pair of photos until it’s confirmed that they’re delivered, and lock your phone. Your brows are furrowed in your reflection staring back at you through the black screen.

“Do you really want to keep up the miserable act the entire twenty four hours?” Eddie’s voice echoes in your mind.

No, you don’t. No matter how wrong this levity with Eddie feels, no matter how uncomfortable it is each time you remember that he’s meant to be the enemy and not someone to share laughter and smiles with, you don’t want to waste these remaining twenty hours being miserable.

“What’s up?” Eddie’s actual voice echoes in real time as you continue to stare at your reflection.

“Just thinking,” you grunt. The thought of admitting your decision to Eddie is much more intimidating than simply acknowledging it to yourself.

“Dangerous.”

Instead of quipping something rude back, you decide to be vulnerable with Eddie. You decide to crack yourself open just a small bit, just as he had done microscopically when he spoke of his collection of items. It’s a dangerous gamble, and you don’t give yourself the chance to overthink it.

“You were right, earlier,” you force the words out, fighting the way they try to cling onto your tongue and remain safely in your throat.

“About… what?” He looks distrusting, and for good reason. He said plenty of things earlier - you could be preparing to remind him of any number of rude things he’d spewed.

“About keeping up the miserable act,” you explain, turning your head to him and abandoning the phone, “You were right. I don’t want to be miserable this entire time. It… It goes by faster when we’re not about to strangle each other, believe it or not.”

You swear you see his shoulders sag in relief. “Well, yeah, I could have told you that. I did tell you that, actually.”

“Shut up,” you force a scowl, “My point is… I don’t know, maybe, we could try to- try to just- we could be-”

“Civil?” he finishes the sentence you stumble over.

You nod, “Yeah. We could be civil.”

The word feels foreign on your tongue. Civility was not something you’d ever considered with Eddie, but the last hour had proven it to be possible.

“Okay,” he nods along with you. He turns his entire body to face you, knees once again bumping as he sticks out a hand for you to shake, “Deal. We will try to be civil the rest of the time.”

“Civil,” you repeat yourself again, more sure this time, still staring at his offered hand.

An olive branch. The opportunity to work together to survive the next twenty hours. The opportunity for his bare skin against yours.

You think again of nuclear explosions and pulsing electricity, of open chests and matching scarlets, of smashing glasses against walls and ruined parties, of wounds healing over in scar tissues as they glow a gentle pink.

Civil. You wonder if that’s one of the words they’ll include on your gravestone as you reach out your hand and let Eddie’s palm meet yours.

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#twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #let's see if i can get it to post in one try this time

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whiskeyapologist · 4 months

Text

was looking through my camera roll & realized i never posted about this?? but i did a check please theme in my bullet journal back in april & i am still beyond obsessed with how it turned out!

task list & cover page

april was all about finishing my fucking thesis (i earned my mfa in stage automation in may) & i used the task list to break down each section of my thesis & make it less intimidating. i still pulled a bitty & had to marathon write most of my thesis within a like 36 hour period. i slept so good once that draft was finished!

when i started planning this theme, i flipped through the comic & decided pretty quickly i wanted the cover to be this view of faber from 4.25 "faber". i filled the outside with some of my favorite details from throughout the comic, including (clockwise from top left) the "text from chowder: i'm shouting!" from 4.2 "nonstop celly", jack's "oh" moment from 2.17 "graduation", the jack lego (?) figure from 3.1 "wag", dex & nursey's background roach & house bubbles & (i think it's) ransom's "et tu lardo?" bubble from 2.12 "post i: roadie", one of my fave senor bun appearances that didn't make it into a weekly from 1.16 "linemates", & bitty's phone (i don't think there's a specific appearance of bitty's phone that looks like this, at least not that i'm finding in the flip-throughs i've done to write this post. i think i did a lil freehand moment with it, but if anyone happens to find it in the comic, let me know!), as well as my usual little calendar & monthly focuses section

monthly calendar & habit tracker

the monthly calendar & playlist is inspired by the smh team roster hanging on the bulletin board in the haus at the beginning of year 2

the habit tracker features a few other details from 2.1 “moved in”, namely the “haus sweet haus” rug & the sock pinned to the bulletin board. the shopping list bubble is a callback to the “jizz!” speech bubble also pinned to the bulletin board next to the sock

meal & time trackers

the breakfast, lunch, & dinner headers are a callback to the hockey puck taped to the bulletin board

not much to add here, but it’s a great time to mention the “it’s tough but you’re tougher” speech bubble from 4.20 “spotlight on eric bittle” which was the quote i used to decorate my grad cap ❤️

weekly #1 is modeled after y1 & features my favorite y1 senor bun appearance (1.18 “playoffs - i”) & line (1.8 “checking clinic”)

weekly #2 is modeled after y2 & features my favorite y2 senor bun (2.10 "shinny") & line (2.4 "hazeapalooza")

weekly #3 is modeled after y3 & features my favorite y3 senor bun (3.3 "meet the falconers") & line (3.26 "cup v - post")

weekly #4 is modeled after y4 (the layout of the top panel specifically is modeled after the first panel of 4.16 "christmas in madison - iii" which shows a bunch of the christmas pics/posts from the rest of smh & tater) & features my favorite y4 senor bun (4.17 "senior thesis") & line (also 4.17 "senior thesis"). i has some extra space, so i included some excerpts from bitty's y4 tweets

camp nanowrimo tracker, before the pen. the left is just a table for tracking time spent on & words written for my thesis & the novel i've been working on forever. my camp nanowrimo goal was to write 1 hour every weekend day & 2 hours every week day, for a grand total of 50 hours, which i am proud to say i achieved! the right is a visual tracker, where each pie was equal to an hour of writing. i included 50 pies for my 50 hour goal. the bubble near the top is from 1.4 "the haus" with 2 footnotes i added; one on "kitchens" that says "word docs", & one on "pies" that says "words". clearly i think i'm very clever lol

visual tracker, filled in. i surpassed my 50 hour goal with about a week left in the month, & i wanted to include that additional progress on my tracker. once the month was done & i knew how much i needed to add, i made a tip-in (although this might just be a fold-out lol) to tape in. on one side, i included the dialogue bubbles from a panel of 3.19 "keagster"

on the other side of the tip-in/flip-out, i included jam jars for the additional 10.25 hours of writing i did, plus "it's gonna be two trips" also from 3.19 "keagster"

& that's all the spreads! spreads were done in an archer & olive b5 notebook. supplies include: mildliners in the colors vermillion, dark blue, beige, & gray; a black papermate flair, a white gellyroll pen in size 08, and stabilo pens in gray and brown. oh, & a piece of masking tape, bc i couldn't find any clear tape lol

#omgcp #bullet journal #i did so many good themes in my b5 journal but i'm pretty sure this one's my favorite

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sailorrhansol · 9 days

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One in the Grave | 00

❀ Pairing: Vampire!Vernon x Dhampir!Reader (f)

❀ Summary: Immortal problems require immortal solutions, but you never expected the unlikely help from a vampire lord and the destruction that might come with it.

❀ Word Count: 1,366

❀ Genre: Supernatural, Dystopian,

❀ Type: Unlikely allies to lovers, slow burn, angst, eventual smut

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Chapter Warnings: Descriptions of a viral pandemic and global shutdown, depictions of sickness, death and disease, brief mentions of grief and general destruction of the world, mentions of murder and fear, a note that implies suicidal intent, collection of items that are somewhat nonsensical and not necessarily supposed to make sense

❀ A/N: I got the idea for a collection of items that show a little of the world before we dive into it, though a lot of it won't make sense until one reads further. I liked the idea of showing different sides of the event that takes place before this story with the articles, discovered notes and lab sheets, and then at the very end you see some notes to our characters that you'll find in the story later :) IT IS IMPORTANT TO KNOW I'M NOT A SCIENTIST AND SO MUCH OF THIS IS NOT ACCURATE LMAO. I know little about biology or viruses but I did try to look stuff up to be... somewhat believable.

❀ A/N 2: Huge thank you to @daechwitatamic and @eoieopda for beta reading for me and letting me plague them with this unhinged project. I love you both and I really enjoy when we three way smooch in the comments of the doc okay bye

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

❀ Disclaimer 2: The names and emails in this specific chapter are not real and for the fictional purposes of this story!

❀ Series Masterlist ❀ Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀ Playlist ❀ Next Chapter ❀

Excerpt from the New York Times

Global Shutdown Imminent as WHO Declares VAHS a Global Pandemic

Thursday, October 1, 2063

…In a historic announcement today, the World Health Organization (WHO) has declared the outbreak of Vampiric Acute Hemorrhagic Syndrome (VAHS) a global pandemic. This declaration has sent shockwaves across the globe, prompting governments and health organizations to initiate unprecedented measures in an attempt to contain the spread of the deadly virus. VAHS, a highly contagious and fatal disease, has been rapidly spreading across multiple continents, causing widespread panic and overwhelming healthcare systems. The WHO has warned that without immediate and decisive action, the virus could result in catastrophic consequences. In response to the WHO's declaration, governments around the world have announced plans for a global shutdown in an effort to curb the spread of VAHS. This shutdown will entail stringent measures aimed at reducing social interactions and limiting the movement of people in order to minimize the risk of transmission. Public gatherings including…

Excerpts from emails at the Center for Disease Control

From: Jelena Suarez <[email protected]> To: Alison.Murphy <[email protected]> Date: September 1 2063, 2:12 PM Subject: [SECURE] Report 09-01-2063-11 Mailed-by: CDC.org

Alison,

Please find the attached report as requested. Confirm receipt upon review.

Regards,

Jelena Suarez Lead Biologist, Team 6 Center for Disease Control [email protected]

[IMAGE] Previous Report Subject 990 shows signs of degradation in cognitive condition. Lateral views of the brain demonstrate lesions in the frontal lobe. Subject shows signs of hydrophobia and increased hemorrhaging. Internal temperature remains stable at 110 Fahrenheit. Fever continues to degrade. [IMAGE] Current Report Subject 990 experienced a spike in fever and internal organ failure. Lateral views of the brain demonstrate further decay in the frontal lobe. Subject died at 0200 and reanimated at approximately 0523, showing signs of clinical vampirism unrelated to Renfield’s syndrome.

Excerpts from the journal of Nathalie Wharton

October 20, 2063

… This isn’t like those old-school movies Mom and I used to watch when I was little. These vampires are real, and they don’t sparkle in the sunlight. Tara says that the older ones, the real vampires, don’t go crazy like the new ones do. I say they’re all the same. We’re leaving to go to the cabin tomorrow. Mom is worried that we’ll get stopped at the checkpoint and sent back because we’re technically in a quarantine zone, but Tara said the checkpoint south of the city fell last week. There’s not much news. We’re the only family on the street now, and Tara’s radio doesn’t always work. I’ll miss home, but maybe the woods would be nice…

October 25, 2063

… Tara was right, there was no one at the quarantine fence south of the city. The roads remind me of those zombie movies with abandoned cars on the side, full of stuff people left. Thankfully the National Guard cleared the road on the way up north. No one has driven this way since it looks like. Dad keeps looking for Carriers but we haven’t seen any. It’s like humans don’t even exist out here anymore. Mom says it's because all of those infected have gone to the big cities where the human population is higher. She said Memphis collapsed last week, with no radio signal going in or out but the screams can be heard for miles. It’s hot all the time now. The air outside makes me feel breathless like that one time we went to Florida and it makes me tired. I’m going to miss Tara but the radio said there was a breakthrough on a vaccine. I’m so tired…

October 26, 2063

… I had nightmares last night and could barely sleep. It is so hot in the car that it feels like my skin is on fire. Dad is making us ration our water and food. All I want is a cold shower to wash the sweat off and to not be starving. It’s just water. I just want to cool off. We have two days until we get to the cabin…

October 27, 2063

… I hate this trip. I want to go home. It’s too hot down south and I’m hungry all the fucking time. Mom and Dad look at me like I’m crazy, but I just want to not be hungry. They won’t give me any more food. I can’t sleep. It’s too hot. I’m too hot. Why is it so hot…

October 28, 2063

It’s too hot to write. I just want to go home. I’m hungry. I just want more food.

October 29, 2063

It’s so hot and I hate my fucking parents. They won’t let me eat more. I’m starving. I’m hot. It’s too hot.

October 30, 2063

I didn’t mean to kill them.

Bloodied note in abandoned warehouse, Columbus, Georgia

To whoever finds this note, Are humans still alive? I hope they are. If they’re not, I understand. They didn’t tell us that this would happen. They told us that it would be okay. It isn’t okay. It was never okay. They told us to stay inside and wash our hands as if that could ever stop the virus from spreading. I’m alone now. Mom died in the first wave of the virus. Dad died a few weeks later after Mr. Johnson attacked and tore out his throat. Daniel and I made it to the quarantine center in Albany with his friends from high school, but a week after Atlanta fell the Rabids showed up and tore through the quarantine. Those older vampires - the ones not infected - they didn’t even help us. They just keep fighting each other in the big cities. Daniel died yesterday. He wasn’t even a Carrier. He just starved. I don’t have anything to bury him with, so I’m going to leave him here and hide him the best I can. The vampires won’t bother with dead blood. It’s the Rabids who will eat him but there aren’t so many away from the big cities. I hope that Daniel forgives me for not giving him a proper grave. I don’t want to starve like Daniel. I don’t want to keep walking either. My shoes are busted from running when we left the quarantine. I know we passed a canyon on the way here. I thought it might be a nice place to die. I’m going to go right before sunset so I can watch it one last time before I jump. I’m not afraid to-

Crumbled lab sheet in Buenos Aires, Argentina

[ORIGIN]: Bloodline, turned [NAME]: Leanna Cordova [DOMAIN]: Eukarya [KINGDOM]: Animalia [PHYLUM]: Chordata [CLASS]: Lamiae [ORDER]: Carnivora [FAMILY]: Hominidae [GENUS]: Inmortui [SPECIES]: Vampiris

[ORIGIN]: Natural, birthed [NAME]: Manuel Onzari [DOMAIN]: Eukarya [KINGDOM]: Animalia [PHYLUM]: Chordata [CLASS]: Mammalia [ORDER]: Primate [FAMILY]: Hominidae [GENUS]: Inmortui [SPECIES]: Dhampiris

[ORIGIN]: Fever, turned [NAME]: Leandro Trejo [DOMAIN]: Eukarya [KINGDOM]: Animalia [PHYLUM]: Chordata [CLASS]: Lamiae [ORDER]: Carnivora [FAMILY]: Hominidae [GENUS]: Inmortui [SPECIES]: Rabidus

[ORIGIN]: Unknown, turned [NAME]: Unknown [DOMAIN]: Eukarya [KINGDOM]: Animalia [PHYLUM]: Chordata [CLASS]: Lamiae [ORDER]: Carnivora [FAMILY]: Canidae [GENUS]: Inmortui [SPECIES]: Canis familiaris

Ripped sheet of paper, abandoned home, Yunnan Province, China

Weaknesses: Sunlight Stakes Holy water Beheading Batrachotoxin* Fire Chest damage ripping out heart Carrier blood *Temporary paralysis that only affects vamplings and Dhampirs. Older Bloodline vampires seem to have higher resistance to paralysis.

Unaddressed note smeared in blood, Seungcheol’s Blockhouse, Southwest of Black Harbor, Red Republic

Find me, motherfucker. You owe me. -GR

Neatly folded note, Vernon’s office, The Tower, Black Harbor, Red Republic

Lord Chwe, Your request for documents regarding the sect of Grim in the Undercity has been denied by Master Archivist Ilsa per security clearance IA-45-KL7. My recommendation is to seek a writ of clearance from your Lord Father or any member of the High Council. Alternatively, I suggest seeking an audience with Lord Hong, who has extensive experience with the Grim that pre-dates the existence of the Undercity. Yours in loyalty and service, Lead Archivist Jeon

Crumbled note, Chan’s pocket, The Tower, Black Harbor, Red Republic

I need you to steal something from the archives for me. Meet me in the Shadow Grove one minute after midnight. -V P.S. Don’t bring Mingyu

TAG LIST:

@hipsdofangirl

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insecateur · 7 months

Text

I'll be standing tall (La Maison-Dieu)

A 10 songs bilingual Sycamore/Lysandre playlist (in honor of Pokémon X&Y's 10th anniversary)

(Unfortunately, I don't use Spotify, so you'll have to make do with this YouTube playlist or look for the songs yourself. But do look under the read more for Lyrics Excerpts and all of that.)

Why a bilingual playlist? Well because I'm a bilingual guy, for a start, and because my experience with Pokémon X&Y in general and this ship in particular has always been bilingual as well (even trilingual, arguably.) I wanted to put together some of my favorite songs in English for them and introduce English-speaking fans to some of my favorite French songs for them, too. A lot of those songs are songs I've quoted, mentioned, or even used as inspiration for art and fic.

(Why is Augustine on the English side and Lysandre on the French side? Because I thought Lysandre would be offended at the idea of being on the English side while Augustine wouldn't care about it as much.)

SIDE A: ENGLISH

Sunburn by Muse

He burns like the sun And I can't look away And he'll burn our horizons Make no mistakes

This is the classic, quintessential PRFR song for me. Its only crime is that it's het, sung from the point of a view of a man singing about a woman. That pesky little detail cannot stop me, however.

Without You I'm Nothing by Placebo (feat David Bowie)

I'm unclean, a libertine And every time you vent your spleen I seem to lose the power of speech You're slipping slowly from my reach You grow me like an evergreen You've never seen the lonely me at all

Do I even need to say anything about this? I listen to this song when I need to make myself Suffer thinking about them. Oh to be unable to bring yourself to say something about your beloved friend's downward spiral...

Hardest of Hearts by Florence + the Machine

Darling heart, I loved you from the start But you'll never know what a fool I've been Darling heart, I loved you from the start But that's no excuse for the state I'm in

My friend sent me this song saying it was about them and they were RIGHT. Shout-out to my friend for that. I like how it can be alternating POV, too.

Changes by The Happy Fits

I try to run away but I find myself, again Stuck in the same place Who will I be today? I can't control the world or change it

This one was suggested by @jonphaedrus and I'm really happy I could have its contribution in here as well. This is very meaningful to me.

Celebrate by Metric

Even the darkest hour soon will be over My friend, it will be over

I couldn't not put a Metric song in there! It was tough finding the right one... But I thought putting a more optimistic spin would be nice, too. I actually associate this song with SLaWCS specifically as well, which is a nice touch.

SIDE B: FRENCH

Pâle Septembre by Camille

Mâle si tendre Au début de novembre Devint sourd aux avances de l'amour Mais quel mal me prit De m'éprendre de lui ?

Did you know? This song is the reason why I associate Lysandre with the Tower arcana. Or at least, it's what put the idea into my brain first. This one is also a quintessential PRFR song for me.

7 Vies by Kyo

La vue est magnifique Contemple-la tant que tu peux La lumière alcaline Le bien, l'ennemi du mieux Tant que le temps défile Tout doit se vivre à deux Je pratique le langage des signes Et celui du feu

I think I should be allowed to include some more vibes songs in there, although I'd argue this one fits them well. It's a bit abstract, but it fits.

Tout donner by Maître Gims

Tu es ma maladie Ma guérison quand tu l'décides Mes nuits s'illuminent J'en confonds le jour et la nuit

A desperate, self-destructive pining song... What else could a man want in this world. It's very tasty. I think about those lines way too often.

Aimer à mort by Louane

L'espoir qui joue, le feu, le froid Un souffle au cou, baiser de roi Pour nous reprendre, pour nous défendre Pour se comprendre chaque fois

Another intense but more optimistic one. I want to believe... I want them to believe as well...

Rouge Ardent by Axelle Red

As-tu trouvé, dans les feux, dans les flammes Ton idéal rouge ardent As-tu froid As-tu peur de l'aurore Tu disais "tout s'évapore" Tu as eu tort

It's a song about being in love with a failed idealist. And also the color red is there. What more can I say. (Also, this time it's originally a het song from the POV of a woman singing about a man, which ties it all neatly together, I think.)

Happy 10th anniversary to all my fellow shippers, young and old, new and ancient, whether you were in the trenches with me back in October 2013 on this webbed site or you joined us in 2021 with the Pokémon Masters revival, thank you for loving them always. Here's to loving them more and more in the future, and here's to the Pokémon X&Y remakes as they become clearer and clearer on the horizon. (And maybe we'll get a Legends game, too? Wouldn't that be something...)

#pokemon #pokemon xy #lysandre #professor sycamore #perfectworldshipping #samart

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dvrk-moon · 4 months

Text

JAKE SIM ; 제이크

EAT ME UP - TEASER 1

synopsis : in which jake knows you’re bad for him, but he just can’t help himself. after all, in the end, the answer is always you. nobody else matters. not even the guy you’re seeing, his friend, sunghoon.

word count : whole work is about 9k right now, in process of writing. this excerpt is ~3k words

genre : fwb, angst, bits of fluff, unrequited love, jake x fem!reader x sunghoon

playlist : coming soon…

expected release date : between jan 17 and jan 24

i. HOW DARE YOU, BABY

Sweat formed on your forehead as condensation dripped down your cup. The heat of 30 bodies all condensed into a two bedroom house located just off of campus wasn’t anything new— yet this time it felt almost suffocating. The sequins on your red dress scratched against your skin while you lazily danced to the loud music blasting through the house. It was a Friday night. You had to let all your stress from the week out somehow.

As you went to take another drink from the red solo cup in your left hand, your lips were met with only small remnants of the drink you had poured for you earlier. You looked into the cup to find nothing remaining. Rolling your eyes, you made sure to motion to your friend, Ningning, that you’d be headed to the kitchen to get yourself another drink. She nodded at you as you walked away.

Ningning wasn’t someone you could consider yourself best friends with. You didn’t have those. However, she was good for coming to parties with; she knew who to talk to and what to say. You always wanted to be closer to the girl, craving an actual bond between you two rather than just a party buddy. She gave good advice, let you stay over at her apartment multiple times, and seemed to actually care for you, even if you weren’t an open book. There had been times in which you’d almost let her in.

But it never actually happened. Deep down, you knew it’d probably be no good for you anyways.

The surrounding music and conversations became a blur as you stumbled your way through a hallway that led to the kitchen on the left hand side. As you walked through the doorway, the noises became slightly more quiet.

You put some distance between the entrance to the room and yourself, finding a corner which was relatively empty and hoisting yourself onto the cool countertop. The second your thighs felt the chilliness of the spot, you let out a deep sigh. You glanced around the room for any familiar faces, but you were slightly too intoxicated to really make out anyone relevant. You rested your head against the wall for a few seconds before leaving your spot and walking up to the “bartender” who was manning the makeshift “bar”. He was someone you’d seen in passing a couple times off campus. You couldn’t remember his name, and you weren’t sure if it was because you were drunk or not.

“Hey again,” he smiled at you. This was probably your eighth drink of the night, and even though Ningning nagged on you about your lack of self control when it came to drinking, you always brushed her off. How would she know what’s good for you, anyways?

You looked at him with a half-assed smile before propping your elbows onto the top of the makeshift bar, “Heyyy..” you drawled out, with a hint of flirting in your tone.

“Back so soon?” He inquired, grabbing some alcoholic drinks from underneath the “bar”. He ran a hand through his raven-colored hair before looking back up at you, “I swore I just saw you ten minutes ago.”

He was a really good-looking guy. You gave him a flirtatious look, “Oh, you know me. Couldn’t stay away for too long.”

That was a lie. You knew that as the night started, you’d tell yourself “only one drink, to loosen up my mind”. But that never stuck around. You’d get another drink soon after, and as the night went on, there would be less time between each drink. You lost count of what number drink you were on a bit ago.

“You flatter me. It’s a shame, we never exchange much outside of parties. I’ve never met anyone as forward as you,” he laughed, then asking, “same thing as last time?”

You paused. You couldn’t remember what you got last time, and it was only ten minutes ago. Maybe this was your sign to stop for the night.

“Vodka tonic.”

The man nodded swiftly then turned around to make you your drink. Within moments, the drink was ready. You didn’t fail to notice how his hand brushed yours for longer than you expected while he handed you your drink.

“Don’t get sick, sweetheart.”

You playfully rolled your eyes as you got up from your spot, not failing to give the cute bartender a flirty wave as you headed back towards the entranceway to the room.

Before stepping out, you decided that you needed to just drink all of what was just given to you. The clock on the microwave had read 1:08 AM. You had nothing going on later today anyways. You may as well.

“Bottoms up,” you whispered before drinking the whole cup.

Stepping back into the haze of the crowd, you felt a new wave of warmth through your body, and this time it wasn’t the claustrophobic feeling of being in a group of unfamiliar faces. The alcohol quickly dispersed through your veins and you found yourself back where you’d last seen Ningning.

She was with a new crowd of people, but she hadn’t left her previous spot. You didn’t recognize a single face of the people who she was with, but as soon as you began to back away to find anyone else, she noticed you from the corner of her eye and introduced you to the group of people.

“Y/N! There you are,” she grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the group of people that she’d found, “guys, this is Y/N, Y/N, these are my friends from my journalism class.”

You were too busy not paying attention to engage in whoever was supposed to be filling the void of conversation. The vodka tonic was still working its magic, so in a quick moment, you were slipping away from the group and telling Ningning something along the lines of “I’ll see you later”. She gave you a confused look but didn’t push.

You found yourself down that same hallway as earlier, but this time you decided to take a right, which led you to a set of stairs. You usually weren’t one for snooping, but what’s wrong with poking around people’s houses every once in a while?

It was eerily quiet as you made your way up the stairs, the ambiance from the party dwindling down with every step you took upwards. At the landing, there was a hallway and three rooms: two bedrooms and one bathroom.

The hallway was narrow and dark; clearly, the host(s) had no intent of guests going up here. The bedroom at the end of the hallway was shut, and you were 99% sure that it was occupied by two random strangers hooking up. You couldn’t be too hateful, though, because you were also notorious for leaving parties with men you barely knew. Tonight, you weren’t sure if that was a goal you had in mind.

Next to the shut-doored bedroom, there was an unoccupied bathroom. You were surprised that you weren’t currently in there, hurling up every drink you downed tonight.

You finally brought your gaze to the room directly in front of you- it was the last bed room. The door was wide open and the lights were off, but there was a large window with its curtains drawn open despite the time of night. The window gave you a perspective of how late it was; even if the room was not lit by any electric lights, the moonlight was bright enough for you to make out a few items in the room.

Despite you telling yourself not to, you were so drawn in by the window that you ended up venturing into the room. You didn’t bother flipping on any light switches or anything, it would just be a quick peek anyways.

You wandered around the room a bit, taking note of a messy bed, an old desk, and a body-length mirror. You stopped in front of the mirror for a second to look at yourself. Your makeup was surprisingly still intact given how sweaty you had been the whole night, and your dress had something stained on the bottom of it. Someone probably spilled some drink on it and you had already forgotten.

Shaking your head, you headed to the window next. It was a window seat. You welcomed yourself into the center spot.

The window had a direct view of the backyard. It was a cold, gloomy night, so there was a lack of presence outside of the house. You pressed your burning cheek against the cool glass and brought your opposite hand to your forehead, cursing yourself. The rush from your last drink was already wearing off. You needed another drink.

You begrudgingly hoisted yourself up from your spot and stood. The doorway looked less enticing with every step. As you walked closer to the door, you caught sight of a figure coming up the steps. You wouldn’t have enough time to leave the room without being caught for snooping. As shit as this party was, you didn’t want to get kicked out.

You did the next best thing and you crouched down right next to the bed, out of sight of the doorway.

The figure quickly entered the room and shut the door quietly before sitting at the foot of the bed, facing the window. If this person turned their head slightly to the left, you’d be spotted. You held your breath.

The person got up and walked to the window seat, not yet sitting down. You got a good look at them, as their face was lit up by the moonlight.

He was around your age, donned in a pair of black cargo pants and a white hoodie. You’d never seen him before. He had a certain curious nature about him, not only because he was unknown to you, but because he was someone was just as passive as you were at this party.

The man let out an exasperated sigh, eyes not once leaving the nighttime view. He took off his sweatshirt to reveal a plain black T-shirt, it hugging his figure nicely as he tossed his sweatshirt just somewhere else in the room. You watched the sweatshirt land with a thud before you brought your attention back to the man, who was now opening the window to let in a cold breeze.

He let in a deep breath before turning his head towards the empty room, or to what he thought was an empty room.

When he’d opened the window, it’d let more moonlight spill into the room, revealing you from your not-so-secret hiding spot. Once he laid his eyes on you, you both looked like a deer in headlights.

“Hello?” He asked, confused.

You cleared your throat, “Hi. I swear I wasn’t stalking you.” You picked yourself up off of the floor, and sent him an awkward look.

“Wait, you don’t need to leave.”

You thought about it before deciding to either leave and go get another drink, or stay and talk to the stranger. You didn’t need another drink. You knew your body could only take so many more until you’d be unable to be conscious of anything. Plus, you always met new men at these parties, and usually ended up leaving with them. What’s the harm in getting to know a stranger rather than having just a one night stand with them?

You sat yourself down on the bed, facing the stranger. A moment of silence ensued before it was broken by him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

You nodded, meeting his gaze, “Yeah, me neither. My name is Y/N.”

“Jake,” he returned, positioning himself so he could see you better, “what brings you up here?”

You quickly became defensive, “I usually don’t go and snoop around at parties if that’s what you’re insinuating-”

“No, no, no! That’s- that’s not at all what I meant,” Jake started, straightening himself, “It’s just that when I take a break from a large group of people, I don’t usually expect to find someone else off where I usually hide.”

You gave him an odd look, “Why do you go to parties if you only go hide, then?” You ran your fingers through a section of your hair, keeping your front strong.

“I like parties, don’t get me wrong,” he begins, getting up from the window seat. He closes and locks the window as he continues, “it’s just that sometimes, when I’m dragged to them against my own will, they lose any sort of fun that they have. May I?” He had made his way to the spot next to you on the bed, not yet sitting down because he wanted to test the waters first. You nodded, scooting over to make room for him. He sat down next to you, using both of his hands to lean on rather than sitting normally.

“I understand. I was just up here for that same reason, I guess. Not really,” you admitted, shrugging and then turning to the boy next to you, propping your hand on the bed towards him.

The amount of moonlight in the room had been lessened due to the fact that Jake closed the window, but his features will still well illustrated. He had big, wondrous eyes, and a full set of lips. His hair was long and unkempt- obviously messy from the heat of the party. You felt overdressed for the occasion in his presence, yet in a sense you still had enough pride to wear your skimpy dress even in the cold months of winter. You didn’t fail to notice how his eyes lingered on your lips as you studied him.

Lifting his gaze from your lips back to your eyes, he slowly responded, “Yeah. I know how you feel.”

You licked your lips before leaning in slightly closer to him, “Do you?” His eyes fell back down to your lips as you slightly held a pout after you asked him the taunting question. He let out a shaky sigh as the distance between you two decreased, and you felt his hot breath on your lips.

Jake had brought one of his hands towards your almost-exposed thigh and hovered over it until you took your own hand and placed his right on your thigh. Almost immediately, you grabbed his face and pulled him in for a kiss.

The kiss was hot, messy, and desperate. Jake repositioned himself so he could hold your waist, and you took the opportunity to move your hands to the nape of his neck. He tasted like alcohol, as did all of your hookups. You knew he was bound to be one the second he sat on the bed, but you didn’t mind. You welcomed him with open arms (and legs).

It was intoxicating. Alcohol aside, you felt a strange new feeling bubble in your chest while the two of you were kissing. You pulled him even closer, signaling that you wanted more.

He moved his hand from your thigh to your ass, grabbing it, which caused you to groan into his mouth, only egging him on further.

Moments later, a knock came from the bedroom door, separating you two. He motioned for you to hide on the floor next to the bed (ironically the exact spot he had found you in earlier) while he went to open the door.

He half-heartedly fixed his hair that you’d somehow made worse from when you first found him, straightened his clothes, and opened the door.

“Matthew? What’s up, man?” He greeted. It sounded like the two knew each other.

“Hey, Jake. I just wanted to come in here and make sure no one was getting busy on my bed, because the door was shut. I was mad worried, y’know?” ‘Matthew’ laughed air-headedly, Jake joining in.

“Yeah, I get it. But nah, nothing going on up here! I just needed a break from the noise, you know me,” Jake sent back, to which Matthew laughed and said, “Yeah man, it’s chill. Keep my room safe, okay?”

The two men did some sort of handshake before Jake closed the door again.

He wasted no time in closing the distance between you two again, asking, “Where were we?”

You slightly pushed him away, giving him a flirty look before crossing your way to the door, “We should probably leave.” You went to open the door, but Jake caught your wrist.

“Are you leaving? Like, the party?” He asked as nonchalantly as possible, but you could hear the desperation seeping through his words. You nodded, finally opening the door for the two of you.

“Oh, okay, cool. See you around, then?” Jake asked as you began descending the steps. You stopped in your tracks and turned around to meet his gaze, “What? Do you think you’re going to stay here? I thought that we had something to finish.”

Jake quickly got the hint as he stumbled (semi-awkwardly) down the steps towards you, following you as you went to find Ningning to tell her you were leaving with a boy.

You found her figure quickly, still drinking and still surrounded by the group you had last seen her with. When you tapped her shoulder, she quickly whipped around to find you and give you a smile. When she saw Jake, an indecipherable look plastered its way onto her face before she returned her gaze to you and gave you a hug. After the embrace, she whispered, “Be safe. Text me if you need me.”

You gave her a reassuring smile before grabbing Jake’s hand and leading him to the door of the house.

a/n : aaaaaaaaaaaaaa. that’s all thank you.

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen reactions #enhypen headcanons #heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #sunghoon #sunoo #jungwon #ni ki #dvrk moon

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fastcardotmp3 · 9 months

Text

no one else will do

“I mean,” a twist of a smile and a thump of his heart, “you could be that person for me. If you want.” “You’re…” Eddie’s eyebrows lift impossibly high, but he meets Steve gaze-for-gaze, lips parting just enough for Steve to get a peek of pink tongue. “Asking to suck your cock,” Steve confirms bluntly.

OR: wishing "someone else's favorite song" a happy one year anniversary with the 11k FWB origin story nobody asked for 🌻

read on ao3 | SEFS playlist | excerpt below the cut

“I’ve never been bad at sex before,” Steve says, leaning back against the brick and tipping his head back to frown at the night sky, stars not quite visible spare a few particularly bright shiners.

He feels sincere about it, he is sincere about it, which means he’s thrown straight off his balance when Eddie snorts out a laugh like he just couldn’t contain it from beside him.

“Hey!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Eddie cackles unapologetically, all but doubling over with the force of his apparent delight at Steve’s misery.

“I’m being serious! I’m a fuckin’ great lay!” Steve shoves at his shoulder, tries to make it sound like a reprimand when all it really does is make Eddie laugh harder, when all Eddie’s laughter does in turn is make something infectious bloom in Steve’s gut until he’s biting back a smile of his own.

“No, no, I’m sure you are, buddy,” Eddie says, wiping at his face like he’d laughed hard enough to cry. At Steve’s fucking crisis of confidence. Bastard. His cheeks are such a rosy shade of pink. “It’s just— fuck— holy shit.”

The lingering laughter in his voice just means Steve can’t draw his gaze away, leaning his shoulder against the wall so he’s facing Eddie fully now.

“I’m good with my mouth, man, I dunno what’s so funny,” he says, but Eddie’s reaction is sort of an unreadable thing what with the way he immediately covers his face with both palms and groans into a chuckle.

“I mean,” he throws his hands up in something almost like exasperation and lets them fall without much to-do about it, “the first time you— ate pussy— did she come?”

Steve’s face scrunches up, without much input from the rest of him.

“What?”

“Did you make her come the first time you—”

“Yeah, I heard you, but—” he cuts himself off, watches the half-amused, half-skeptical lift of Eddie’s brows up under his bangs. “I mean she, like…”

“The certainty here is palpable,” Eddie smirks. “The confidence—”

“She said she did!” Steve shoves at Eddie’s shoulder again, and that? The reaching of a hand out? That happens without much input from the rest of him too, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, just lets it sway him as he takes another drag from his cigarette.

“Because no woman has ever lied about an orgasm before,” he says around an exhale of smoke.

#dot fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #sefs fic #wrote that blurb for microfic had a breakdown bon appetite

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twogyuu · 1 year

Text

Blue (Burgundy)

Pairing: Vernon x fem!reader (kind of Mingyu x fem!reader)

Synopsis: Your favorite color was burgundy, but this time you were choosing blue. For some reason, it was one of the most hurtful decision to Vernon you.

Genre: Fluff with underlying angst, mild crack if you squint, reel love!couple, F2???, implied love triangle, date!mingyu, bestfriend!seungkwan, friend!yeri

Warnings: None - jorts, maybe if that's triggering to you like it is to me. (Unedited!)

WC: ~1.5k

A/N: Incredibly unwell and delusional. This was entirely self-indulgent #iykyk - the struggle be real y'all 😭 This is an excerpt from my discontinued fic series, Reel Love. I wrote it in advanced many months ago (this is kind of where the whole idea for the series started!!), but never got to share it, so doing it now :) Happy reading!

The playlist: Until I Found You (Stephen Sanchez) >> Just Watching You (Jeong Sewoon) >> Flicker (Niall Horan) >> Love You Twice (Yunjin)

It was almost comedic, the way Vernon and Seungkwan walked out of their respective dressing rooms at the same time, yet you, who only exited your own seconds before, your eyes only focused on Vernon.

You both paused, breaths being held, eyes absorbing every detail of one another dressed to the nines. It’s not like either of you haven’t seen each dressed well before – it’s just that this time was . . . different, for lack of a better word.

New, yet somehow old feelings danced on the tip of his tongue, remaining unspoken for who knew how long.

And there was you who gave your heart to someone else, but another held the key in the pockets of those jorts you hated so much.

Somewhere along the way, unbeknownst to the two of you, what started out as an innocent friendship sharing pre-popped popcorn over late night talks on the dorm rooftops bloomed slowly in the shadows into something more – like a touch-me-not that survived the winter and blossomed with the kiss of a single rain droplet in the spring.

As this scheme continued, it was becoming clear to all your friends, Seungkwan in particular, that Vernon and you were more than just the label of “best friends” you uncaringly slapped onto your relationship.

Hands stuffed into the pockets of his black pressed slacks, the tag still dangling from the waist, Vernon took a few quiet steps towards you. Letting his eyes fall to the ground, he did his best to suppress his growing smile threatening to upturn the corner of his lips. He glanced up every now and then to make sure he didn’t knock into anything, but also to gauge what you wanted at this moment. Perhaps you wanted the same (probably not) with how you mirrored him, lifting the skirt of your burgundy dress and walking to meet him halfway.

Burgundy.

Your favorite color wasn’t red.

Your favorite color wasn’t purple.

Your favorite color was burgundy.

Vernon never quite understood why you were so drawn to this particular color, but maybe now, he thought he might – just a little.

It wasn’t quite one or the other, but it just was. In this color, you stood out against the dark oak decorations of the tailor’s shop and the bright LED lights that bounced off the sterile white walls. Simultaneously, it was mute enough that only one with a keen eye could be able to appreciate the beauty of such a strange color amidst a crowd.

Vernon liked it – he liked it quite a lot.

(Or perhaps, he just liked you?)

“You don’t have a tie,” you said monotonously. Your eyes were narrowed at the empty collar of his dress shirt.

He peered down, not seeing much, but acknowledging his lack thereof, nonetheless. Vernon shrugged nonchalantly before turning to the round table at the front of the fitting room. An assortment of ties arranged by the colors of the rainbow were neatly displayed in the form of a fan.

He jutted his chin at the table. “Pick one for me?”

You snorted. “You’d trust me with that?”

“Better you than me.”

You gave him one last look before letting out a small huff and making your way over. You skimmed over the various patterns and colors, your hand hesitantly hovering over the expensive silks and polyesters. Occasionally, your finger brushed over the fabrics, feeling cool under your skin. They passed over the deep purples and sky blues to the emerald greens before they paused on the collection of reds.

It was hard to tell if your decision to delicately pluck a plain, silk burgundy tie from the display was intentional or just purely by chance because you were naturally drawn to the color.

You spun around and held up to Vernon’s neck, squinting to see if it’d match his suit.

It had to, right? He was just wearing a classic black suit and white dress shirt.

“I like this one,” you piped up, nodding approvingly.

“Wow,” Vernon dragged on the word, unexcitedly, a hint of disbelief in his tone. The grin gracing his face suggested that perhaps, he was equally just as content, if not, dare Seungkwan predict, thrilled.

He walked over and took the tie from you, turning it in his palm and examining the front and back. You waited patiently for him to finish and put it on, clasping your hands behind your back and teetering on the balls of your feet.

“I think it adds a nice pop of color to your outfit,” you explained. “Something pretty, but not too loud.”

Vernon didn’t question it, only chortling softly. He peered up at you and handed it back. “Put it on for me?”

“What?” you frowned.

“I don’t know how to tie a tie,” he replied simply.

“But the career fair–”

“I bought a clip that time.”

You scoffed in disbelief, swiping it from him nonetheless.

Silently, he straightened his back, rolling his shoulders back and tilting his chin up to give you space to work.

You leaned over, standing on your toes to look over his shoulder. Hooking the burgundy silk tie around the white uncuffed collar, the few loose curls at the nape of his neck grazed across your fingers as they slipped around the front. Like your dad taught you, you crossed the thicker lip of the tie over the skinnier piece, adjusting your fingers and pulling at each end. Though your eyes were concentrated on forming the knot in front of you, you made a mental note to remind Vernon to get a haircut before the winter gala. You knew how he hated how itchy the back of his neck was when his hair was starting to get long. The thought of him whining itself was amusing and though you didn't notice seeing it yourself, Vernon looked at you, wondering what had the corner of your lips twitching up into that small smile every time you were fond of something.

Again, it wasn’t the first time Vernon has seen you this close – you’ve shared a bed on more than one occasion. Nonetheless, this moment felt more delicate than before. It wasn’t walking on eggshells, but skating in circles on a thin sheet of ice frosted over a pond. Your hair was a mess, but the wisps in your face were endearing. The silhouette of the bridge of your nose to the plump of your lip was familiar was one he’s seen a hundred times over, but never failed to spark something in him. An urge to caress your cheek with one hand and trace it with the back of his knuckle; perhaps finishing with a soft press of his lips against yours – just to make sure you were real and not a fever dream.

“Done,” you announced softly – your voice was barely enough a whisper. Your hands were settled on his chest.

“You look nice,” Vernon said, equally as quiet.

They were three simple words, but you knew the weight of them went beyond the airy sound of his voice. Out of your control, you felt your cheeks warmed on their own.

Your brows crinkled momentarily in confusion as if to force a pause of silence before you looked up at him. His face was unreadable: his hazel eyes were relaxed and wide, his lips set in a straight natural line, not a sign of a wrinkle of stress along his skin.

Though you had all the time to question him, you were at a loss for words. As if the last grain of sand had fallen through narrow of the hourglass, cutting you off, Vernon stepped back, your hands slipping off his chest.

“How does it look?” he asked you, casually as if everything didn’t happen. He tugged at the knot.

“Um,” you shook your head, “Fine – good.”

“Yah! You guys look like a matching couple,” Yeri emerged from her fitting room in a yellow gown, catching everyone’s attention. Her hands were clasped at the back, holding the zipper together.

“W-what?” you asked, dumbfounded.

Seungkwan sucked in a sharp breath, pretending as if he wasn’t just an unwelcomed witness to the intimate moment between Vernon and you. He brought a finger to his chin, feigning curiosity. “Say? Didn’t Mingyu say he wanted the two of you to wear blue?”

You looked down at your dress, your hands coming to smooth the invisible wrinkles in the skirt, suddenly feeling subconscious.

“I . . . liked the cut,” you mumbled. “I’ll ask them to order it in the blue.” You pointed purposely to the front, “Th-the lady at the cashier counter said they could do that.”

Tongue-in-cheek, Seungkwan wrinkled his eyebrows playfully. “Uh-huh.”

“Can I wear this then?” Vernon blurted.

All three pairs of eyes shifted to him.

He pointed at his burgundy tie, a small smile on his face. “I . . . like it – I like it a lot.”

“I don’t see why not,” you said awkwardly, turning back to your fitting room. “I’ll . . . come back with Mingyu to find a different one – one that matches.”

Despite the unassuming and ignorant expression on his friend’s face, Seungkwan knew that your words perhaps cut him deeper than pairing a blue dress and blue tie.

After all, burgundy was your favorite color.

(But this time, you didn’t choose it.)

#vernon x reader #vernon fluff #vernon angst #vernon scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #vernon imagines

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wildemaven · 11 months

Text

Wildemaven 1000 Follower Celebration

*CLOSED*

1k Celebration Masterlist

1000 lovely people!

When I joined 2 years ago, I was hoping to just slink through this hellsite undetected, never any real intention of doing anything more than reading and staring at pretty pictures of P.

Now I’m in deep with this silly space. I’m so grateful for all the connections and friendships I’ve made. I’ve revived my love for reading through the amazing fics shared here and found the courage to write some of my own.

Thanks for all the laughs and love!! I appreciate you all!

Headcanons: Send me a Pedro Character and a headcanon, and I’ll share my thoughts on them.

Moodboards: Send me a Pedro Character and a theme, I’ll put together a mini moodboard.

Song Recs: Send me a Pedro or an excerpt from a fic of mine, and I’ll a song that reminds me of it. Or send me a song and I’ll let you know which character it fits best / I’ll be making a playlist of all the songs used

Blind Drabbles: Pick 2 numbers, 1-375, and a Pedro character. I’ll use the two blind prompts to write a little drabble with your chosen character. (Big thanks to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for this idea)

Asks Me Anything!! Send random thoughts, asks about anything I’ve written, tell me an anonymous secret, literally anything!!

I’ll be taking these requests until 6/25. I might be slow to responding to them as I still work through writing Chapter Six of Sweet Creature, but I’ll post them as I finish them.

Thank you for all the support and kindness you’ve shown me!

#wildemaven 1k celebration #Javier Peña #dieter Bravo #Frankie morales #agent jack whiskey daniels #Dave York #Marcus Pike #Joel Miller #wildemaven writes #pedro pascal characters

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many-but-one · 2 months

Note

i understand if you don’t answer questions like this and it won’t hurt my feelings if you need to delete this.

i feel like my smaller parts have been coming out a lot lately, but the problem is that they are so overwhelmed and so sad all the time, and so fearful of anyone and everyone close to us, that i feel like i’m drowning in an ocean of sadness and hurt and depression. everything is so hard and nothing brings me true joy and i feel like it will never get better. my partner gets overwhelmed when i get like this and tries to talk to me like i’m one singular person and he can’t spot my little ones unless i tell him they’re there. i know that that makes sense intellectually, but in the moment it feels like he doesn’t see me/us and i’m just reliving my childhood and teen experiences of not being okay and begging for help and never being believed.

i do have a therapist, and she helps some, but sometimes it just feels like all i get is “do yoga and meditation and that’ll help.” she’s been through a lot herself and i know intellectually it probably works and i really should do it, but i just can’t bring myself to, and i don’t feel like it’ll fix the hole in my heart. maybe nothing ever will, i don’t know.

if you have any advice i’d be happy to listen but i also understand if this is too heavy or sad to talk about. i know it’s probably just a matter of having to grit my teeth and try to take care of the kids and get over myself anyway.

Oh luv🥺 I am so sorry this is happening to you.

I can absolutely understand why the feeling of being ignored or unseen can make parts feel like they are reliving aspects of their childhood. Young parts often hold so much pain, it can be hard for lesser knowing parts to even fathom such deep depths of emotions like that until they’re right next to you and you’re feeling them.

My suggestion to you is twofold:

1) communicate with your partner and your therapist that while you know they’re trying to help, their help is just…not helpful. You are allowed to tell someone their help isn’t helping, especially a therapist that you pay to see. A question you will likely get from them is “How can I help you better, then?” And that’s something you’ll need to figure out. What would help you best in that moment? Comfort? Talking about the emotions? Expressing them in some way with your partner? (Such as making art or listening to a music playlist these parts make to help get these feelings out? Both can also double as a way for your partner to see the intensity of the pain externally in ways that perhaps words or explanation just can’t describe. Art is a powerful mode of communication, feel free to use it!)

2) Find out what YOU yourself can do to help these child alters feel better too. Unfortunately we cannot always rely on external people to be the miracle validators we need, we also have to rely on ourselves. Would your child alters want to be known by you or others externally better? Why are they scared of those around you? What can YOU do to help them feel comforted in this moment? Some other good skills to learn are grounding in the present (as these things you are feeling are likely emotional flashbacks—feelings your child self was feeling during times of trauma), something called “unblending” which is recognizing when emotions are not your own and working to unblend from that child self whose emotions are leaking into you, and widening your window of tolerance. These things can be hard! They are skills that requires practice, especially since folks with CDDs tend to be pretty “all or nothing” when it comes to emotions. Either you feel ALL OF IT or you dissociate it all away. Boon, Steele, and Van der Hart talk about this in the book “Coping with Trauma Related Dissociation” which is a fantastic resource available here.

Here is an excerpt that talks a bit about emotional avoidance or lack of reflection on emotions and learning how to widen your window of tolerance that may be useful:

In addition to all the things suggested, if you have child alters who are flooding the front with so much emotion that it seems nigh uncontrollable, it’s probably best that they not be fronting at that time. Learning how to communicate with them and say things like “hey, I am at work right now, we cannot be having these sorts of emotions at this time. I am not ignoring you, we will address them later when we are in a safe place at home. Can you please go inside to a safe place until we can address these emotions safely?” To which you then must address those parts later on, or they will end up not trusting you when you communicate this and will be less likely to leave front when you ask. Directing them to a safe alter (like a caretaker, protector, or gatekeeper) or asking them to go to a safe inner place internally can provide a bit of relief. If you don’t have an inner safe place or don’t know if you do, here’s some ideas on inner safe places for parts:

To create an inner safe place, try this visualization. We did this with our therapist and we still have the store in our inner world. Granted, it’s much bigger and more complex now to fit all the needs of all parts, but it’s still there!

Also creating time in your day or week for younger parts to come out and be in a safe place and enjoy things they like can work wonders on them feeling more comfortable in the present. Maybe at first you do not involve your partner in this. You can color in a coloring book, read a children’s book to your parts, eat a tasty snack with them, or any number of other things. Helping young parts feel safe and adjusted in the present space is helpful. Something we often have to do with young parts is a “house tour” which is going around the house and pointing out all the things that are different than the old places. “See how the walls are [color] and not [color]? Look at this decoration, we didn’t have that back then. Look at our [pet if you have one] we didn’t have them back then. Look at this furniture and these clothes, we didn’t have these things back then, because it is [insert this year] and not back then, we are safe now in this space.” Eventually adding your partner in with these activities will also help them feel safer around your partner.

Additionally, encouraging parts to express themselves with words or pictures rather than emotions can be important. Putting emotions into something like words, drawings, a gallery of photos you find on the internet, etc, can be a good way to help de-escalate emotions and make them not so intense. I know saying “putting words to emotions makes the emotions not so intense” feels fake, but trust me, it works. Yes, it pisses us off every time we do what our therapist says will help and it actually helps. Yes, we still do it begrudgingly even though it helps. If parts are not allowed to talk about what happened to them (your gatekeeper or protector parts do not allow them to disclose trauma) then have them not write about the experience itself, but the emotions behind the experience. Encourage parts to use their words when communicating rather than emotions or flashbacks.

I hope some of these suggestions helped? Good luck and take care anon!

-Dori🌹 (she/he/they)

#dori🌹#anon ask #answered asks #did osdd #did alters #dissociative identity disorder #manybutone #did system #child alters #advice

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blueparadis · 2 years

Text

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐅 ; 𝐑𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈

+. [ PAIRING ] — ran haitani x female!reader.

+. [ SYNOPSIS ] — Haitani brothers wrecking havoc in the area came across a unfamiliar face. While Ran was amused how his intimidating aura didn't scare you Rindou was actually surprised how someone was interested in him rather than his brother.

+. [ ABOUT ] — bonten au + mafia au, satire, romance, drama, erotica, semi-canon divergent, semi-linear timeline, mention of bonten arc, tenjiku arc , violence, profanity. ( fem!reader, explicit and non-explicit eventual smut, hierarchy corruption, mention of alcohol, kidnapping, profanity, murder, blackmailing; enemies to friends to lovers, love triangle, slowburn, forbidden love, unrequited love, angst, fluff moments and sappy romance. )

+. [ PLAYLIST ] — via spotify.

+. [ NAVIGATION LINKS ] — you can browse my other works by clicking on this link.

+. [ NOTES ] — this is the first ever series that I started to write. It was hard for me to write since I get horribly distracted whenever I'm to write on Ran and that is why I've not written much on him. This is only posted in AO3 ; I've left the link at the end of excerpt.

+. [ EXCERPT ] — Ran Haitani’s pov.

I licked my lips trying not to laugh. It was so tough to hold myself back. All I wanted was to pin her hands above her head and kiss those lips that had the power to own me.

She sat on my bed leaning against the door. She's determined today, I pondered. My eyebrows jumped when I saw her snatching the beer can from my hand and chugging it down empty.

I mustered up the courage and sat beside her. My arm was grazing hers. She didn't bite so I thought it was cool. Silence prevailed for almost a minute.

“You do know that Izana is waiting for you and we're in my room, locked?”, to which she looked at me and let out a hiccup, immediately pressing her mouth with her calloused fingers, nails were painted on both hands. Such pretty hands. I wanted to touch them...

I figured something bad happened maybe with Izana or maybe with her parents since she looked away drowning in silence but I was too afraid to ask, too afraid to ruin this moment.

“He is drunk and way too high to fuck me properly if that's what you're thinking. He'll fall asleep soon. So, don't worry about all of this unless your guilt makes you spill it to him.”, she said in one breath.

GREAT. SHE'S ANGRY JUST AS I'M.

Silence prevailed upon us for more than a minute. I wanted to kiss her nape, neck, and every inch of her body.

“So, why are you here exactly? You could have declined it”, I whispered breaking the silence between us.

She beckoned me with her index finger which had a diamond ring. As I leaned she chimed, “You. for you”

I swallowed hard. I don’t know if it was weed or her but man every inch of my skin was burning. She was right next to me. Then, I recalled Izana mentioning that she shouldn't drink much on the phone.

“Hey, you have something in your neck”, y/n extended her hand. Did she always wear such an oversized sweatshirt? Only the head of her fingers was visible through the sleeves. I didn’t notice.

Well, there’s ample time to watch now that Izana is interested in her and soon might show her our world.

“Oh yeah! We both have... matching pairs”, I added and I saw her eyes full of excitement. She looked adorable.

I felt her hands on my neck and she whispered in amusement, “It’s a tattoo”

“Do you wanna see?”, I asked to which she nodded her smile never leaving her face. And, I started to strip without any hesitation. I wasn’t wearing much, so before she could react I was half-naked.

Y/n gasped. She gasped before sitting on my thighs. I wasn't doing anything because first, she was drunk; second, I really wanna see how this plays out, and third, I had imagined her in a lot of positions and one of them is about to happen. I'm not that much of a fool to stop this.

For some reason, she stopped before touching it, touching me. I couldn't understand why I was angry but she looked at me asking, “May I?”

“You may”, rolling my eyes heavenwards because I was screaming, ‘ Yes! Please do, in my head. I tried to stay calm as she traced the ink from my chest, along the side of my nipples, and over my belly, and then she stopped.

+. [ STATUS ] — READ THIS IN AO3.

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