#and then writing a breakup fic

[cheesecakethots]

i LIVE for the angst of a yandere initially being fucking awful to their darling after taking them, and overtime changing and becoming more loving, as well has having newfound and immense regret for what they’ve done. it is literally my fave yan scenario.

tw // pretty heavy angst, mentions of noncon

i specifically imagine it for shigaraki, going from being this disgusting manbaby who treats his darling like they’re nothing but a toy for him to use, only to later realise how much he loves them and mature in how he treats them, making his regret for the past even stronger.

him trying to coax his darling into coming out on a date with him - they can go anywhere, he doesn’t mind, darling has free reign to choose what they do. he tries to be so soft and quiet in his tone, as though not to startle them.

it’s only when tears start forming in their eyes and they mumble, “have i been bad?” that he realises how badly his past self fucked up.

the only other time he really took them out was when he’d decided they needed a punishment, and had made them stand and watch as he disintegrated the first group of people they saw out. he had then fucked them against the alleyway wall, bodies still around them both, just to really get the point across.

he wishes he could take back everything, but he can’t. as of now, he needs to take baby steps in order to bring you out of the very same hole he once caved into your mind.

(i love regretful yans urm send me some thots about them pretty please)

#i might write an acc fic on this #give me some angsty thoughts im in a major angst mood #justttt darling not being able to comprehend that yan is doing this to make THEM happy… #i can kindaaaa see this with geto too #going from treating his darling as some womb or toy #later realising she’s the last thing that keeps him the slightest bit grounded #post kfc breakup ofc #tw yandere #tw.yandere #yandere #yanderecore #tw noncon #tw: noncon #implied noncon #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere shigaraki tomura #yandere shigaraki #yandere tomura shigaraki #yandere tomura x reader #yandere tomura #yandere shigaraki x reader #yandere tomura shigaraki x reader #yandere angst #tw angst #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia

[ladykailitha]

Love is Kind

All of the stories I was reading today were sad Steve and it made me cry so I wrote happy Steve to make me feel better.

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

***

Jeana looked down at the purple water lilies in Steve's hand in distaste.

"Water lilies?" she asked, frowning. "Not red roses?"

Steve looked at her in confusion. "Yeah, your favorite flower in your favorite color."

"Yeah," she agreed, reluctantly taking the flowers. "But red roses are more romantic for Valentine's Day."

Steve went from wilting in disappointment to her reaction, to standing up straight with a spine of steel. "Oh I get it now." He took bouquet back from her forcefully. "Yeah, we're done."

Jeana's eyes went wide. "You're breaking up with me on Valentine's Day over a bunch of flowers?"

"No, Jeana," he said coldly. "We're done because you didn't tell me you wanted red roses. I assumed that the cheaper more personal water lilies would be the perfect thing for Valentine's Day."

Jeana winced.

"Ohhh..." Steve said, "I get it now. You wanted the Harrington money." He rubbed his fingers together. "Despite the fact that I work at a book store. That I told you when we first started going out that I had been kicked out."

Jeana rolled her eyes. "You still wore nice clothes and had fancy hair products in your bathroom, like I was supposed to believe that obvious lie?"

"I save for those!" Steve hissed. "I can't use anything else for my hair, I've tried. And yeah, so sue me for buying something nice once in a while."

She peeked around him to see the table was set with romantic candles and another bouquet of water lilies. "You weren't even going to take me out to eat?"

Steve tossed the flowers on the counter behind him. "Why else would I have you come here instead of picking you up?"

Jeana threw her arms in the air. "I thought you were supposed to be this Romeo, this Casanova."

Steve's nostrils flared. "Out!"

She stomped her foot and crossed her arms. "I'm not going anywhere until we talk this through!"

"There is nothing to talk about," Steve said, spinning her around and pushing her toward the door. "You were expecting me to shell out a shit ton of money on you, money you thought I was hiding from you. It's clear you were never interested in me, only the money and prestige the Harrington name brought you."

He opened the door and shoved her through it. "Goodbye."

He slammed the door behind her and gripped his hair tightly. Not enough to pull but just enough to feel pain at pressure of his tugging.

Now he had dinner that was about to be ready in ten minutes, no girlfriend, and a dessert he had slaved over all day.

He needed to call someone to share this with. Robin was doing Valentine's with Vickie so she was out.

Then his eyes lit up. He knew exactly who to call.

He walked over to the phone and dialed.

"Hello, Munson's Funeral Parlor, you tag 'em, we bag 'em," the warm baritone came through the line.

"Eddie!" Steve said with a giggle.

"Stevie!" Eddie greeted back. "To what to I owe this pleasure?"

"How goes your anti-consumerism night in?" Steve asked, avoiding Eddie's question.

"Eh..." Eddie said. "Could be better. I'm watching violent movies to make myself feel less lonely."

Steve chewed on his bottom lip. "I have a warm lasagna, fresh breadsticks, and a nice bottle of wine and suddenly sans a girlfriend if you wanted to have some company."

"What happened with Jeana?" Eddie asked.

Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "She didn't want me, she wanted the Harrington money, the King Steve charm, and a Casanova, not Steve Harrington who works at a queer little book shop in the middle of town."

"Well, fuck her," Eddie said. "Her loss. You bet I'll be there, sweetheart. Just give me time to put on my shoes and I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thanks, Eds."

*

Steve opened the door a few minutes later to find that Eddie somehow had found sunflowers in the middle of fucking winter.

“Where are on earth did you find these, Eds?” Steve asked, breathing in the scent of his favorite flower.

Eddie tapped his nose knowingly. He spotted the water lilies in the vase on the table and dumped them in the trash. He replaced them with Steve’s sunflowers.

“There, that livens up the place better,” he said, turning to Steve, “don’cha think?”

Steve smiled back at him. “Yeah it really does.”

He went and made up their plates as Eddie opened the wine. He set them down on the table while Eddie filled their glasses. Steve trotted back to the kitchen and pulled out the breadsticks that were warming in the oven. He put them in a nice basket a covered them with a towel. He set them on the table between Eddie and him.

“This looks fantastic, Stevie,” Eddie murmured and dug into the lasagna. “Ooh. This is better than fantastic. This is divine.”

Steve hurried to take a sip of his wine to hide the flush of pleasure at the compliment that dusted his cheeks. And judging from the smirk on Eddie’s face, he hadn’t been successful at all.

“So what were you watching before I interrupted you?” he asked, blush still staining his cheeks.

“Chinatown.”

Steve grimaces. “That is pretty violent. A little depressing too.”

Eddie shrugged, stabbing another bite of lasagna. “Was kind of the point. Didn’t want anything happy or romantic today.”

Steve picked up his glass and held up to Eddie. “I’ll drink to that.”

Eddie laughed, but clinked their glasses together and drank when Steve did.

They polished off all of the breadsticks, all of the wine, and about half of the lasagna. Steve put the leftovers in the fridge.

“You want a soda or something?” he called from the door of the fridge.

“I’ll take a beer if you have one,” Eddie called back from the sofa.

Steve grabbed two beers and handed one of the cans to Eddie.

“I thought you preferred bottles, babe,” Eddie said, popping open the can.

“I do,” Steve muttered darkly. “They were Jeana’s.”

Eddie cackled. “Here’s to stealing your ex’s shitty beer!”

Steve laughed too. “Cheers!”

Eddie went over to Steve’s record player and put on some Metallica he’d left over here and then flopped back on the sofa next to Steve.

“Thanks for coming over,” Steve murmured over the screaming riffs of Master of Puppets. “Rob is over at Vickie’s tonight and didn’t want to ruin her Valentine’s day, too.”

Eddie smiled softly. “And since I refuse to participate in the rampant consumerism of the day, there would be nothing for you to ruin.”

Steve chuckled. “That and you’re my best friend. I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d want to spend it with.”

This time it was Eddie’s turn to blush and he shoved a lock of hair in front of his face to hide the redness of his cheeks. He pushed playfully at Steve’s shoulder. “Fuck off. I’m sure there are lots of people you could have called that would have come running.”

“Rob was first pick,” Steve said, “you were second. I mean it, Eds. I wanted to share everything I’d done for her with you instead.”

Eddie’s blush reached his ears and stained the column of his throat. “You keep that shit up and this boy is going to start thinking impure thoughts.”

Steve blinked for a moment before he laughed. It wasn’t a harsh or hurtful laugh. It was bright and cheerful. “You put out on the first date, Eds?”

Eddie who was starting to think he’d taken it a step too far, stared up at Steve in amazement. He got his wits back fast enough to quip, “Only if they’re pretty enough.”

Steve ducked his head and scratched the back of his neck trying to hide his embarrassment. Well maybe that was the wrong word. Charmed. He was fucking charmed.

“You think I’m pretty?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Eddie raised Steve’s chin with his finger. “The prettiest boy I’ve ever seen, Stevie.”

Steve gulped. “And if I told you that I’ve had the biggest crush on you for so long?”

“Then I would ask why we aren’t dating, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured, leaning in close.

Steve let out a shuddering sigh. “Because I didn’t think I was an option for you.”

Eddie half knelt on the sofa, cupping his face in his hands. “You are my number one option, honey. Just say the word and I’m yours.”

“Mine.”

Eddie grinned and then kissed Steve gently on the lips. He pulled back after a moment. “This isn’t just because you’re lonely on Valentine’s Day, right?”

Steve pulled Eddie onto his lap and brushed their noses together. “No, baby. She was only ever a placeholder for you. And a piss poor one at that. She never loved me for me. Not like you.”

Eddie chuckled. “And what makes you think I love you, pretty boy?”

“Because you knew I would be sad and brought me sunflowers.”

Eddie kissed Steve fiercely. “You are too clever for your own good, honey. Yes, that is exactly why I brought them. Because I didn’t want you to be sad. Because I wanted you to feel loved.”

“And I do,” Steve murmured. “I love you, too. So so much.”

“Good.”

They resumed kissing. It was darker. Deeper. More potent. Eddie could write songs and poems and books filled with the love he felt for this man and finding out that he felt the same.

All the bookstores and libraries in all the world couldn’t begin to fill the amount of pages Eddie would need to even try and convey how he felt in that moment.

But it could be summed up in one word.

Ecstasy.

Just pure ecstasy.

*

Robin wasn’t sure if it could be called a walk of shame when she had told Steve that she would be spending the night at Vickie’s, but walking into their shared apartment after the wild sex they had had last night she did feel a little silly.

She stopped short when she saw who was in her kitchen making breakfast in Steve’s track pants.

“Eddie?” she squeaked.

Eddie looked up at her with a grin. “Welcome home, Bucksters! If you haven’t eaten yet, pull up a chair and grab a stack of pancakes. I’ve made plenty.”

“You’re not Jeana,” Robin said stupidly.

“Nope.”

“Steve would never cheat,” she said, again trying to figure this out.

“Nope.”

“You two are a couple now?” Robin asked, her brain still in first gear.

“Yup!”

Just then a very sleep rumpled Steve came wandering out of his bedroom and latched on to Eddie. “I missed you.” He kissed Eddie’s neck.

Eddie kissed his temple. “Sorry, sweetness. I got hungry.”

“Mhmm..” he muttered. “Does smell good.”

“Morning, dingus.” Robin crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You want to tell what this is about?”

Steve looked over at her and gave her a dopey smile. “Jeana sucked. Only wanted the Harrington money and not me. Called Eddie over to make me less sad. He brought me sunflowers and made me very happy.”

Robin looked over at Eddie who half shrugged around a clingy Steve. “That’s the gist of it.”

“Got it,” she said. “I’m happy for you both.”

She grabbed a plate and pilled on the pancakes, with Steve releasing Eddie to do the same.

As the three of them sat down and ate Eddie’s pancakes, Steve smiled happily to himself.

He was with the two people he loved most in all the world and he wouldn’t change a thing.

***

Permanent List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @artiststarme ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #valentine's fic #fluff #minor steve/female oc #breakup

[blushweddinggowns]

Part 2

He has no right to be here.

He knows that.

He does.

Eddie watches as people pile into the church, all of them dressed to the nines. It's a Harrington affair through and through, and the sight of all these people that he knows Steve hates makes him feel sicker than he already is.

If he wasn't on the edge of crying he would have laughed at himself, like he had any right to judge anyone here. He's the one who dumped Steve. Perfect, wonderful, lovely Steve who just needed a few more years. He just needed to make sure the kids were safe until they graduated. But Eddie couldn't do it. He needed to leave, and Steve needed to stay.

So he ended it. Just like that. He ended it.

He hasn't seen him for three years. By all appearances, it was a good choice, the best thing he could have done for himself. Because against all fucking odds Eddie Munson ends up as a success. He's a star, a famous musician discovered in a shitty little bar. He somehow managed to actually live the dream he used to fantasize about.

He lives it up. He parties, he drinks, he fucks, he spends his early twenties being young and dumb like he always wanted.

And it's horrible. It's so horrible that it becomes hilarious to him. Because he knows why it's so bad. Of course he knows. But it's better this way, really. Because Steve deserved better than him anyway. He deserved someone he didn't run away, full of flimsy excuses of wanting to be out of the shitty town that made him. When the truth was he was scared. He was terrified about how much he loved him. Because what was he going to do when the day came when Steve realized he could do better?

Eddie wouldn't have been able to surivie it. So he left instead. Like the coward he was. He left so he could be miserable and famous but at least Steve could finally find someone who deserved him.

So it really was all for the best. That's what he tells himself, because if he doesn't he'd go insane wondering about what could have been. He has himself convinced that he made the right choice. Maybe not for himself, but at least for Steve.

He doesn't realize how bullshit all of that was until Dustin lets it slip. They're doing the normal routine. Dustin visits, Eddie spoils the shit out of him, and on the last day he asks about Steve. He always tries to keep it casual. Tries to never let his desperation to know what's happening shine through. But it always does, bad enough that Dustin can't help the pity in his eyes when he tells him.

Steve's getting married.

Eddie wasn't aware just how much words could hurt him until that moment. He'd been called every bad name under the sun, a queer, a freak, a fag, you name it and it's been said. But this is the first time someone else's words make him feel like he's dying.

He wasn't invited to the wedding. Why would he be? But he still found it. Because he's a glutton for self-punishment. He hadn't seen Steve for three fucking years, and he chooses to wait till his wedding day?

But it's too late for regret, he's already here. His eyes keep scanning the room, just waiting for him to show up. He probably looks like a creep, dressed in all black and fucking sunglasses, sitting right by the door. He's basically in a fucking disguise, mostly to stop Robin from finding him and kicking his ass.

Speaking of, his eyes widen at the sight of her. She's slipping out of a door to the side, quickly wiping at her eyes before joining the crowd of people. His eyes drift back to the door.

Eddie's on his feet before he knows what he's doing. It's stupid, maybe the stupidest thing he's ever done, but where Robin is, Steve is sure to follow.

And he's right. It leads to a small dressing room. And there he is. Just like that Eddie's in front of the only man he'll ever love. Or at least, behind him. They were alone, and Steve hadn't even noticed him yet, too busy adjusting his hair in the mirror.

He still has time to leave. Besides, he didn't come here to ruin everything. He didn't, really.

But he doesn't turn around. Instead, Eddie locks the door behind him. He takes off his stupid sunglasses and clears his throat to speak, but is immediately rendered speechless when Steve turns to look at him.

He's just as gorgeous as he remembered.

His eyes widened at the sight of him, mouth opening and closing like he can't quite believe what he's seeing. Why would he? Eddie never reached out. He ignored the times that Steve did, always too ashamed of himself to face his own mistakes.

Eddie always expected Steve to lash out when he saw him, if he saw him. Lord knows he deserved it. But he doesn't. He just looks...sad. And those basset hound eyes are almost enough to bring Eddie to tears himself.

"What are you doing here?" Steve asked, voice quiet.

Eddie hadn't actually prepared anything to say. His plan was to watch the love of his life marry someone else than drink himself into a stupor at his hotel. He...he hadn't expected to end up here. But there are a million things he wants to say to him.

I'm here to tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was a coward. I'm sorry I wasn't good enough and I made it your problem. I haven't stopped thinking about you. Ever. There hasn't been a day that goes by when I don't regret leaving. And I thought, maybe, just maybe if I saw you move on with my own eyes I could let you go.

But none of that is what comes out of his mouth.

"Run away with me."

If Steve didn't look shocked to see him before he sure did now, "W-What?"

"Run away with me," He repeats. Because it's what he wants. It's what he needs. It's been three years of hell without him and Eddie can't do it anymore. He can't.

He hates that he's the cause of the tears springing up in Steve's eyes, but he can't take it back. He won't.

Steve looks away, eyes trained on the floor, "You can't do this to me Eddie. You can't."

But he is.

Eddie's made his choice. He was a fool to think he was capable of coming here without trying to steal him away. Of course this is where he'd end up. And he'll say anything to get him back. He doesn't care that he's too late. He doesn't care that this whole thing makes him a bigger piece of shit than he already was.

He'll be underhanded, he'll be dirty, he'll do anything to get Steve to leave with him, he doesn't fucking care. Because Steve Harrington is not going to get married today.

He waltzes right up to him. He grabs his chin and forces him to meet his eyes. He probably looks crazy, he feels crazy, "You don't love her like you love me."

He's never met her. He doesn't need to. The way Steve freezes up is all he needs to know that he's right.

He doesn't deny it, but he deflects, "Why are you doing this? You left me. Did you forget that part? I didn't end it. You did! A-And now what? We're just going to ride off into the sunset together? Like you weren't the one to just cut me out of your life-"

"Yes," Eddie interrupts. He feels calm, eerily so as he speaks, "We're riding off into the sunset together. Even though I don't deserve it. I never deserved you. And I was so fucking scared of when you would realize that. I let it eat away at me. So I left. Before you could do it to me. And I was wrong."

"Stop," Steve tries to step back, but Eddie won't let him. He wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him close.

He can't stop talking, even if he wanted to, "I was so wrong Steve. And I've been miserable ever since. Because I couldn't stop thinking about you. I'll never stop thinking about you. Even if you tell me to go to hell and get hitched I'll just wait for a divorce. Because you are the only one for me. And it took me too long to say that out loud. And I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry Stevie."

Steve weakly tried to push him away, but his heart wasn't in it, "Please stop."

But he can't, "I love you."

Steve's eyes are closed, a futile attempt to keep the tears at bay, but his voice comes out strong, "Eddie, I-I can't do this again. I can't. If you left me again I...I just can't."

Eddie can't help but wipe a few of the tears away for him, "Angel, look at me."

He waits for Steve to open his eyes. He looks so fucking beautiful that it hurts, especially since this may really be the last time he sees him again.

But he has one more trick up his sleeve, "Tell me you're not mine and I'll leave."

"W-what?"

"Tell me you're not mine. Say the words out loud and I'll let you go."

Steve stares at him. He's mad, beyond pissed that Eddie has the audacity to throw that in his face, but he's desperate. It was the last thing he said to him, murmured through the driver's side window of the van, seconds before he drove away.

I'm still yours, even if you don't want me anymore.

Eddie had cried the entire ride there after hearing that. And then a few days after for good measure. And here he is, completely ruthless at what he's willing to pull out, "You're mine Steve. You know you're mine."

It's such a fucked up thing to say, but it's true. But it's not the whole truth, "And I'm yours. I've always been yours. Tell me that's not true and I'll leave."

But Steve can't. He can't do it, just like Eddie had known he wouldn't. But what he hadn't expected was for him to surge up and kiss him.

It feels like he fell in love all over again, just from one simple kiss. Because it felt like magic was real and it decided to take on the form of Steve Harrington's lips. It was everything he had missed. Everything he had dreamed about. Eddie tangled a hand into his hair, helpless to do anything but kiss him back, harder and deeper. He wanted to be burned into Steve's memory for all eternity. He wanted him to always remember the moment that they came back to each other.

Because that's what this is. Eddie's certain, Steve was his, and he would never let him go again.

They only stop when there is a knock at the door, a muffled question asked that they can't hear over the sounds of their own breathing. It's enough to have them pulling away from each other, but they ignore it nonetheless.

Steve searches his face, one last test. Eddie can only guess how he looks right now, probably just as desperate and terribly hopeful as he felt. Whatever he's looking for, he finds it eventually.

Steve sighs, glancing toward the back of the room, "There's a window we can probably fit through. Because I'm sure as hell not going out there."

Now it's Eddie's turn to cry. Despite all of his confidence, the certainty that they were supposed to be together, he hadn't really expected it to work. But here they were, giggling with each other as they scurried out of a first-floor window, making a run for Eddie's car.

Eddie can't help but kiss him again before they get in, muttering against his mouth, "I love you so fucking much Stevie. I'm not going to fuck this up again. You won't regret it, I'll spend the rest of my life making sure you don't."

Steve grinned into the kiss, "You better."

There was still so much to talk about. Too much. And they'll fight and they'll scream and everything will get worse before it gets better. And Eddie's so fucking grateful to get the chance.

And for the first time in three years, he feels alive again.

#steddie fic #steddie #steddie ficlet #look at me writing this instead of steddie wip i havent looked at for two weeks #idk where this came from #eddie munson #steve harrington #i do not condone this behavior but god damn is it romantic #if it helps it was a pretty shammy marriage to appease his family but that poor nonexistent bride is in for a bad time #but hey it's better than him cheating on you after you're married right? #wedding #ruined #whoops #its a bad idea to run away with your ex you havent seen in years but damn they did it anyway #angst is in there #breakup #they get back together in a very dramatic fashion

[afewproblems]

Season 2 Halloween AU Part Four

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

A very big thank you to @strangersteddierthings for chatting with me today and being such a great sounding board for the next update!

Synopsis: What if Eddie had been at Tina's Halloween Party in Season Two? Featuring Steve!Whump, Stancy Breakup, and Eddie just trying to keep up with all these new revelations about who King-Steve actually is...

***

"So…I have to ask," Eddie blurts out, cutting through the awkward silence that has fallen between them, "how were you gonna pick up your car before you ran into me?"

"I don't think it counts as running into you, if you were waiting for me Munson," Steve side steps the question expertly, flashing him a strange smirk that seems out of place. It falls after a second and twists into something pained.

"I was hoping Nance would take me," Steve says eventually, his voice soft, "which was pretty stupid in hindsight, 'specially cuz she was counting on me to drive her this morning, which--"

Steve cuts himself, snapping his mouth shut with a harsh click of teeth, he shakes his head and lifts his hand to run roughly through his hair.

"Doesn't matter anymore".

Eddie holds his breath, feeling the conversation begin to shift. It's as though he's stepped onto a tightrope and any wrong move could potentially send him over the edge.

He settles for nodding once, turning the key in the ignition.

Steve sighs and lets himself fall back into his seat, "I know you know already, the whole fucking school does, Billy saw to that," Steve gestures to his face, "say what you really want to ask". 

Eddie's fingers tighten around the wheel as he turns them out of the parking lot, fighting the immediate urge to say, 'why did Miss Priss throw it all away?' 

"You think I believe the rumours that come out of that shithole?" Eddie lies, keeping his eyes on the road this time.

He can feel Steve's unimpressed stare as they continue down mainstreet.

"Right, so you had no clue I was in detention?"

Eddie chews the inside of his cheek to fight the sly grin that begins to creep over his face, "Alright smart ass".

He hazards another glance at Steve as they begin to hit the residential area, he looks so different from the night before.

His limbs are loose, tension free, if it weren't for the heavy bags under Steve's eyes and the nervous tap of his fingers on the passenger door, Eddie would think he was finally relaxed.

"I knew a fight definitely happened, it's Hargrove," Eddie says slowly, carefully weighing his words, "but I typically prefer to hear the whole sordid story from the source before I pass any judgements, ya know?" 

Steve doesn't say anything as they continue driving through residential  the houses getting progressively bigger as they go.

"Did you," Steve pauses and breathes out slowly before shaking his head and lifting his face to meet Eddie's gaze, "is that offer for something stronger still open?" 

Eddie smiles, "I think that can be arranged". 

***

Eddie pulls over beside Tina Cline's house, wincing as the right front tire rolls over the curb and bounces the van as it lands on the street once more, startling a snort out of Steve. 

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up Harrington," Eddie huffs as Steve shoots him a grin.

"Didn't say a word," Steve hums, unbuckling himself from the seat. Eddie watches as he opens the door and hops out. For a moment Eddie worries Steve will pull the same disappearing act from last night but he simply stops beside his car door and motions for Eddie to roll down his window. 

Eddie cracks his door open instead, "window's broken, what?" 

Steve rolls his eyes, "whatever Munson, you know the way? It's north on 5th and--"

"Then two more rights, yeah man," Eddie says with a laugh in his voice, "I dropped you off remember?" 

"Fuck off," Steve huffs out, he's grinning though.

Steve swings the Beemer’s door open and slides in. He turns on the ignition and flinches at the loud burst of music from the stereo, the volume obviously set from the mood of the previous night. 

'I want to know what love is, I want you to show me--'

Steve slams his hand against the console, cutting off the song with a harsh crack. 

The van is parked just behind the Beemer so Eddie can't see Steve's face, but his head drops down onto the wheel for just the briefest moment before he slowly lifts it, turns on his signal and pulls away from the curb. 

***

Steve beats him to the house.

He's getting out of the car, which is parked on the long driveway as Eddie pulls up to the street. 

Eddie hops out of the van, hiking his backpack higher up on his shoulders, not bothering to lock it. Who would even want his shitty van among the BMWs and Mercedes parked down this street --hell, Eddie could have sworn he saw a Jag three houses down.

Eddie stops short of the lawn. The Harrington house is so different in the light of day, the strange emptiness that seemed to ooze out of the dark windows the night before has disappeared, leaving an ordinary house in its wake. 

"Well?" Steve calls out as he pulls a pair of keys from his back pocket and spins them once on his finger, "you coming or what Munson?" 

Eddie rolls his eyes and jogs to catch up to Steve who turns on his heel to stride up the walk. He stuffs the key into the deadbolt and swings one of the double doors inwards before shucking off his sneakers.

No shoes? Fucking rich people man.

Steve must notice Eddie's expression because he blushes and shrugs, "I know, I know, but my parents will be home for Thanksgiving this year so…may as well…"

He gestures around the sterile foyer with a tight smile, as though it explains everything. 

If anything, Eddie has more questions. 

Steve cuts off the thought by clearing his throat, "we should smoke outside, last thing I need is for you to burn a hole in the couch or something".

Eddie steps over the threshold and has to stop himself from whistling, were the ceilings always this high in this place?

He lifts his foot to unlace his left chuck, snorting at the strange little table in the middle of the foyer. A giant vase sits atop it filled with a mixture of what have to be silk flowers --no way they were real. He pulls the shoe off and tosses it to the side before lifting his right foot. 

Eddie never had the greatest balance so he hops back and forth with his right foot in the air before hopping as close as he can to the wall of the foyer and leaning back against it.

He finally gets the knot in his laces undone and throws the sneaker to the floor, dropping his right foot to the hardwood.

Eddie looks up to find Steve staring with a bemused expression on his face, he ignores the wide hazel eyes and removes the backpack from his shoulders -which can't have been helping the balance issue. 

Eddie unzips the top and yanks out the trusty metal lunchbox, sliding a wicked grin into place.

"You said something about outside?"

***

By the time they've settled, facing one another on a couple of pool loungers, the sun has begun to dip low, painting the patio and empty pool a warm glowing copper. It catches Steve's hair, which shines like gold in the dying sunlight, like some Autumnal Fae King--

Eddie wants to slap himself, suddenly thankful for the November wind that cuts through the backyard, forcing him to chillout.

He picks up the grinder from his lunchbox, unscrewing the cap to open it.

"You good with a joint this evening my good King?" 

He pours a handful of a new strain Rick let him try the other day into the grinder and starts twisting. It's not something he would typically share with anyone other than Jeff, but Steve seemed like he could use something a little more special tonight.

Eddie looks up after a beat of silence, "yo, Major Tom, you with me?" 

Steve's face is pinched, tilted towards the empty pool, "please don't call me that," he says quietly.

"Major Tom?"

Steve raises his eyes to meet Eddie's gaze, his mouth cuts a hard line across his face, the typical easy grin it usually houses is gone. 

"King-Steve," he runs a hand through his hair, letting the fingers linger to grip and pull, "I just, that's not who I am anymore, I don't--"

Steve swallows harshly, "that's all anyone could talk about this morning".

He drops his voice and octave, "oh, King Steve is so pussy whipped he let his girl fuck Jonathan Byers before she dumped him".

"Is that what Hargrove said?" Eddie asks quietly as he pours out a portion of weed onto a paper.

Steve shakes his head, "that was Tommy, but that wasn't why I hit him". 

Eddie nods, and lifts the joint to his mouth to run his tongue along the edge of the paper. Steve watches him from the lounger, his eyes follow the movement before he blinks and continues.

"Tommy and I had been best friends since we were five, he uh, he knows a lot about me," Steve lifts his hand to his mouth and chews the nail of his thumb briefly before dropping it back into his lap.

"Stuff I don't tell anyone, stuff he knows will hurt". 

Eddie nods, twisting the joint closed, he can kind of understand that, although the only person in his life that knew him like that was Wayne.  

And Wayne would never hurt him. 

Did Steve really not have anyone else like that in his life, someone he could tell anything to that wouldn't look at him weird or judge him. Someone safe.

"Anyway, Hargrove started in on me after that, but he's been fucking with me for awhile so," Steve shrugs again, "he saw his big opportunity here".

"Hargrove's been messing with you?" Eddie asks sharply as he pours more weed onto another paper. He lifts it and runs his tongue along the edge of the paper before twisting it into shape. When he looks up, Steve's ears have gone slightly pink and he's sitting strangely, slightly hunched and twisted.

"Yeah," Steve says after a moment, he clears his throat and straightens his back, "yeah, it's just been at practice so far, and I thought it was just because he wanted to one up me for my spot but," he shakes his head, "it's getting worse". 

"You know, I have a bit of a reputation around school," Eddie says slowly, carefully, watching as Steve freezes and looks at Eddie with wide eyes.

"The Hellfire club is more than just the game we're playing, it's also kind of a sanctuary for kids that don't have anyone to lean on, we look after each other," Eddie continues, ignoring the way Steve relaxes slightly, "you wouldn't need to play or anything but if you need somewhere to sit at lunch now…" 

Steve looks at Eddie for a long time, his expression blank, guarded, "really? Just like that?" 

"Yeah man, besides I get to use my 'Mean and Scary Guy' persona on these fuckers so it's a win-win for me".

Steve grins, raising one skeptical eyebrow, "mean and scary?"

Eddie bristles a little bit at the questioning tone in Steve's voice and can't quite swallow the urge to snarl, "yeah I mean you looked plenty scared of the town freak yesterday". 

Steve winces and immediately starts to shake his head, inching forward in his seat so he's even closer to Eddie, their knees are almost touching.

"That's not, I wasn't," he stops and takes a deep breath, "I was upset about Nancy and it was so dark outside, the trees--"

"You afraid of the dark Harrington?" Eddie cuts him off, the lingering irritation still simmers in his voice as he coos. 

Steve just looks at him, there's something strange about the haunted expression on his face that makes the hair on the back of Eddie's arms stand on end. 

"Things happen in the dark, in the woods," Steve says softly, his eyes drift to the empty pool again. 

Eddie opens his mouth to ask Steve what the hell he means by that, when a voice shouts across the yard.

"Steve? STEVE?!" 

The sound of someone running through the grass has them both of their feet, the joints forgotten on the pool loungers. 

"Dustin?" 

A kid, he can't be more than twelve or thirteen, skids into the porchlight that has replaced the last copper rays of evening light, the sun fully set by now. The kid's blue eyes are wide underneath a mop of curly hair and hat, he's breathing hard.

"I need your help".

Tag List: @eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @corrodedbisexual @starman-jpg @ilovecupcakesandtea @yoriposts @clumsiluni @pelinelin @phantomcat94 @lololol-1234 @anaibis @airconditioning123 @steveshairspray @hellfireone @sunswathe @eddielives1986 @tentativeghost @robin-not-batman @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium @tinyplanet95 @perseus-notjackson

Part Five

and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @outpastthebrakers @henderdads @stevesbipanic

#stranger things #stranger things season 2 au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve and nancy breakup #what would have happened if eddie had been at tinas halloween party? #this fic is going places apparently #eddie is having all sorts of complicated feelings about steve here #i will never get tired of halloween party breakup aus #you can pry them from my cold dead fingers #afewproblems writes #cw marijuana #crossing into the canon upside down stuff now #lets goooooooooo #dustin meets eddie early #eddie is listening to steve talk and just thinking ??? #like what is wrong with this boy there are too many things to count #cw bullying #billy hargrove is his own warning #I might rename this Castles Crumble based on that TSwift vault song #such a steve song am I right?

[marvel-ous-m]

Tonight, Tonight

Written for @steddiemicrofic April Prompt: Fool | WC: 454 | Rating: Teen and Up Audiences | Tags: Breaking Up, Intelligence-related Insults, Drinking, Hopeful-ish Ending

“Did you really expect me to stay in Hawkins forever? Don’t be foolish, Steve.” 

Eddie’s remark echoed in Steve’s mind, a vestige of their conversation a few hours prior.

Steve had gone to Eddie’s trailer for date night. He knocked on the door, expecting the usual: Eddie pulling him inside, planting a kiss on his cheek, then tugging Steve to the couch so that they could curl up and watch a movie. 

Tonight, though… 

Tonight, Eddie met Steve at the door with flushed cheeks, his skin shiny with sweat. His hair was tied up in a haphazard sort of way, a far cry from Eddie’s regular date ‘look’. 

“It’s Friday already? Shit, sorry. Come in.” Eddie held the door open for Steve, and Steve walked in, wasn’t pulled. Wasn’t kissed. 

Eddie was across the room surrounded by half-full moving boxes, rather than surrounded by Steve’s arms, cuddled on the couch like they would usually be by now. 

“What’s going on?” 

“I’m packing, Steve. Isn’t it obvious?” 

Steve swallowed, walked silently to the couch, and took a seat in their spot. 

He flinched at Eddie’s responding sigh and watched him limp into the living room. 

Limp?

He didn’t sit- just stood there, arms crossed. “Did you really expect me to stay in Hawkins forever? Don’t be foolish, Steve.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“For once in your life, please use your brain. I’m leaving.” 

Ironically, Steve was the one who left after that. 

Didn’t bother to hear Eddie out, though he doubted the man had much more to say going off of his cold tone and slicing words. 

Eddie had never attacked Steve’s intelligence. Bolstered it more often than not, telling Steve over and over again that he was smart, intelligent, loved. 

So, yeah. Steve didn’t need to hear more to know that they were over. 

He didn’t know where to go, so he went home. Grabbed a bottle of his dad’s good whiskey from the liquor cabinet, sat on the tiled floor of his kitchen, cried, and drank. 

It was well past midnight when he heard the front door click, when he felt wet tears against his scalp and a whispered explanation against his forehead, Wayne came home, said I was being an idiot. I couldn’t let you get hurt by the homophobic pricks who roughed me up. I ran. Tried to keep from hurting you by… hurting you. I was so wrong, Stevie, I’m sorry. 

Steve was not nearly sober enough to sort through Eddie’s words, and even if he was, he knew that they had a long way to go before they’d be them again. 

But tonight? Tonight, Steve couldn’t help but fall into Eddie’s arms and hope for a better tomorrow.

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #em writes #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficapril #steddie breakup

[engie-ivy]

Merry Christmas everyone!🎄

1365 words.

“Well, I've never decided that I wanted to stop seeing him!” Hope says defensively, crossing her arms over her chest. “That he's no longer a part of your life doesn't mean he should no longer be a part of mine.”

“He's my ex!” Remus exclaims. “You're my mother! That's exactly what it means!”

Wonderful Once Upon a Time

Make It To Christmas - Alessia Cara

“Well, well, well. Who do we have here?”

Hope Lupin freezes from where she had been sneaking into the house. No, not sneaking. It's her own house after all. Just walking. Inconspicuously. Without making any sound. Trying to not get noticed.

The last part clearly didn't work, as Remus is sitting at the kitchen table, arms crossed over his chest, giving his mother a stern, but also slightly smug, look.

“Remus!” Hope says, just a tad too high-pitched. “Oh my, you startled me.” She lets out a very unconvincing laugh.

Remus just arches an eyebrow. “Where have you been?”

“Oh,” Hope says, trying (and most likely failing) to sound casual. “I was just visiting your auntie Joy.”

“Is that so?” Remus asks slowly.”How strange. Auntie Joy called about an hour ago to tell you she isn't making the Christmas pudding this year. Now, why would she call here to talk to you while you're over there?”

Hope makes an awkward chuckling sound. “Did I say aunt Joy? Silly me, I meant aunt Faith!”

“Oh,” Remus says in a light voice that really should've alarmed her. “How did you like her big Christmas tree?”

“Oh, yes, it's lovely, very lovely,” Hope replies quickly.

“Ahha!” Remus points his finger at her. “Auntie Faith doesn't have a Christmas tree this year, as she's afraid the cat is going to climb it.”

Hope curses inwardly as Remus gets up from his chair and walks over to her, looking at her intently. Hope tries not to squirm under his gaze.

“I ask you again,” Remus says emphatically. “Where have you been?”

Before Hope can answer, Remus’ gaze shifts down for a moment and he notices the package in Hope's bag. His eyes narrow. “Are those… Rosemerta’s cookies?”

Damn Rosemerta for always giving Hope some cookies to take home, and damn herself for being too weak to resist!

“You've had lunch at The Three Balls of Holly,” Remus concludes. Then his eyes widen in shock. “Mother,” he hisses. “Are you having an affair?”

“Yes,” Hope immediately says. “You've caught me. I was out on a clandestine rendez-vous with my secret lover behind your father's back!”

Remus stares at her for a moment and then shakes his head. “Okay, so it's clearly not that. Now tell me where you really were.”

Hope gives up, and decides to come clean. She sighs in defeat. “I was out for lunch with Sirius.”

“What?!” Remus gasps.

“Well, I've never decided that I wanted to stop seeing him!” Hope says defensively, crossing her arms over her chest. “That he's no longer a part of your life doesn't mean he should no longer be a part of mine.”

“He's my ex!” Remus exclaims. “You're my mother! That's exactly what it means!”

“Come on, darling,” Hope says appeasingly. “You know I've always been very fond of the boy.”

Remus doesn't look the slightest bit appeased.

Hope makes herself a cup of tea, with Remus sitting back down at the kitchen table, with a sour look on his face, moping. She sits down across from him and stirs her tea, waiting patiently.

She doesn't have to wait long.

“So,” Remus eventually says reluctantly. “Sirius is back in town, huh?”

“He is,” Hope only replies.

Remus groans in frustration, and forces the next words out. “How was he?”

“Good,” Hope decides to stop teasing him and starts to talk. “He finished art school before the summer, and then spent some months working in New York, building a clientèle, before only recently coming back to town. He seemed well. Still very handsome.” She takes a sip from her tea before adding “And still single.”

“Mum!” Remus warns.

Another silence falls, during which Hope, again, waits patiently.

“Did he…” Remus begins hesitantly after a moment. “Did he say anything about me?”

Hope looks at her son fondly. “Darling, do you really think that Sirius could go and have lunch with your mother and not talk about you?” She giggles. “I was teasing the poor dear-” maybe she does that a bit too often, now that she thinks about it “-and I started telling him all about your father's bad knee, to see how long he would last. He made it an impressive five minutes, before blurting out ‘how's Remus?’ right in the middle of my sentence.” She shakes her head, smiling. “When I told him you now work at the local school, he said he could easily imagine you as a teacher.”

Remus also smiles. “Just like I can easily imagine him in his own art studio, surrounded by his paintings.”

“Oh,” Hope says. “I didn't tell you! You know Mr Kettleburn’s old cottage, in the woods at the edge of town? The one that hasn't been used in almost a year? Well, Sirius bought it! He's going to turn it into his workplace, a calming place for him to paint. Of course our town doesn't quite have the art scene New York has, or much of a market to sell art, but Sirius says he just doesn't feel the inspiration he feels here when he's in the city. He hopes that with the name he has already made and the clientèle he has already built, he'll be able to sell his paintings from here.”

Remus stares at her. “Huh. So Sirius is staying in town.”

Hope tilts her head. “Does that surprise you?”

Remus shrugs. “I guess I just always thought he would either accept that job as Creative Director at his family's company and travel the world meeting interesting, important people, or open up some fancy art gallery in some trendy, artsy neighborhood in New York, or maybe travel to all the major art capitals of the world showcasing his work… I always thought that this small town simply wouldn't be enough for him.”

“Sirius has always been very clear about that,” Hope says gently. “He has always told you that he loves this place, that it feels like home. That this town, his paintings, you, are all he needs.”

“Yeah,” Remus says. “But I always thought he was just saying that, y’know? I was…"

“You were listening to your own fears and anxieties, instead of listening to him,” Hope finishes for him.

Remus rubs his temples. “I really fucked up when it comes to Sirius, didn't I?”

Hope purses her lips. “I certainly wouldn't use that language,” she says. “But yes, I do believe the way you pushed Sirius away was a mistake. But,” she adds in a softer tone. “Sometimes mistakes can be fixed.”

“Right,” Remus says bitterly, averting his eyes. “Like Sirius would ever want to talk to me again after what I did to him.”

Hope holds back a groan of frustration.

Like Sirius would ever want to stay in a place like this. Like Sirius would ever want to talk to me again.

“Well,” she says coolly, crossing her arms over her chest. “If you still haven't learned your lesson about deciding for Sirius what he does and does not want based on your own insecurities rather than talking to him and listening to what he's actually saying, then yes, it's better if you just leave the poor boy alone.”

Remus closes his eyes for a moment. “I really am doing it again, aren't I? I'm sorry. I just…"

“He really misses you, Remus,” Hope says, reaching out and taking her son’s hand. “And I know you miss him too. Sweetheart, everybody makes mistakes, and that's okay.” She squeezes his hand. “Especially if you learn from those mistakes and don't make the same mistakes twice.”

Remus gives her a small smile. “I suppose I could talk to him some time. Especially now that he's gonna be around for the foreseeable future.”

Hope smiles back at him. “That's good to hear, darling.” She gets up from her chair, places her cup in the sink, and walks over to the kitchen door, before turning around in the door opening and adding “Because I invited him over for Christmas brunch tomorrow.”

Remus jerks his head up and stares at her wide-eyed. “Mum!”

“Now excuse me,” Hope smiles innocently. “I've gotta go hang up some more mistletoe.”

“MUM!”

#wolfstar christmas #wolfstar christmas fics #wolfstar holiday fluff #post breakup #breakup and makeup #my tumblr writing #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #hope lupin

[haunted-headset]

There's Pretty Ways to Turn Me Down

summary: He's fallen out of love with you.

word count: 569

tags: @zuuriell @somebody-v @vibestillaxxx @ax-y10 @joviepog@themonsterunderurmom @ogelizasoot @wilburstan@smolsleepykitten@funnyreally2009@crows-death@dykepunz@aresriiots@0miamor0@defonotval@chipch0p@mazzistar16@unmellowyellowfellow@justalittlebitofchaos@thosecolorfulsheets@vopix@taylors-version-from-the-vault@aine-lasagna@merianakross@veeislost@urfav-sapphic-siren@shazbaz58-blog @wifiatthetrainstation@mcr-pr-fob@shd454@universe-friday@rqvii@idioticion@m0thza@artistphantom @ace-call-me-what-youd-like (let me know if u don't or do wanna be tagged!!)

cw: a lot of angst, crying, breakup, cheating, arguing, cursing

a/n: It's angsty time!! I may or may not have cried while writing this!! Also, here's a playlist to listen to when reading this:

You had begun to suspect that he had fallen out of love with you. Over the past few months, the "sunshine"s, "darling"s, "my love"s, "my sun, moon, & stars"s, & "doodlebug"s had turned into "babe"s & "baby girl"s, & those had turned into a shortened version of your name, & then that had turned to just Y/N. He had stopped postponing his editing to make time with you, & he had stopped leaving studio time with the band to cuddle you. He hardly cuddled you at all anymore. You were lucky to get a long hug. You just prayed that he wouldn't leave you.

You didn't expect him to cheat on you.

"How could you?!" you yelled. "After everything we had together, why did it have to be her?!"

Wilbur stayed silent. & his silence was deafening.

"Say something, for fuck's sake!" you shouted, despite the catch in your throat & the tears running down your cheeks that occasionally got into your mouth. "I mean, we both know you're not in love with me anymore, but there are prettier ways to turn me down!"

Wilbur's eyes widened. Those widened eyes, the eyes you still loved gazing into, were filled with tears.

"You...you know?" Wilbur whispered. "You know that I--"

"Yeah," you cut him off as you fought back a sob. "I know."

"Y/N, I am so, so sorry," he said, a catch developing in his throat. "I tried so hard to stay in love with you, I tried to force myself to love you, but..." He paused to let out a small sob. "I can't. I can't anymore."

"It's okay," you whispered through a cry.

"No, it's not okay," he snapped. "I-I promised you that I would never leave you, that I would never stop loving you, that I would marry you one day, & I broke that. I broke the promise, Y/N." Wilbur pointed at the promise ring on his finger. "I got the rings specifically for that promise, & I..." He was cut off by a sob.

"Wilbur, I need you to tell me something, okay?" you said, trying your hardest not to scream or cry or throw something into the wall out of anger. You knew this was going to happen. You just weren't prepared for it. Wilbur nodded.

"Do you love her?" you asked.

He paused before slowly nodding.

You smiled sadly. "Then go be with her. I'll be okay. & we can still be friends, right?"

Wilbur nodded again. "Yeah. Yeah, we can still be friends. I don't want to lose you." He put a hand on your shoulder. You wanted to move it away so badly, but you let the pain that came with his touch continue. "& I'll always be one phone call away, okay? & maybe--maybe we'll fall in love again." He smiled & said through a small cry, "Maybe we can be happy together again. Eventually."

You nodded & resisted the urge to hug him. "Now, go fall in love with her. Make her happy, okay? I'll pack your things & you can pick them up tomorrow."

Wilbur nodded & kissed your forehead, which unleashed a tsunami of tears from you. He put his shoes on, grabbed his coat & phone, & hesitated before grabbing his key to your apartment. & then he was gone.

& your world was crushed as soon as he closed the door.

#angst fic #wilbur soot #wilbursoot #wilbur #lovejoy wilbur #wilbur soot imagine #fanfic #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot fluff #creative writing #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x reader #wilbur x you #will gold #breakup #Spotify

[kjack89]

Pops up, chucks a tiny angsty ficlet, disappears again…

Enjolras shouldered the door open, shivering against the sudden sting of icy air as he stepped outside. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, trying to keep his teeth from chattering as he crossed the alley behind the Musain to where Grantaire was lurking next to the dumpster, a cigarette dangling from his fingers. “Thought you quit,” Enjolras said in lieu of a greeting, tucking his hands into his armpits to keep them warm.

Grantaire didn’t look remotely affected by the cold, and as he raised the cigarette to his lips, the orange glow from the tip lit his face in sharp relief. “Well,” he said, exhaling a puff of smoke, “you know what they say about bad habits.”

Enjolras jerked a nod. “Hard to quit,” he affirmed.

“Something like that anyway,” Grantaire said. He took another drag, tapping the cigarette against the top of the dumpster before asking, “Did you need something?”

Enjolras frowned. “What do you mean?”

Grantaire arched an eyebrow. “Just out here to get warm, are you?” he asked, amused.

Since Enjolras’s teeth were now audibly clacking together, he supposed Grantaire had a point. “Just wanted to check on you,” he managed between shivers.

Grantaire rolled his eyes and reached out to draw him close, wrapping his free arm around Enjolras’s shoulders. “Idiot,” he said, with no small amount of affection. “Pretty sure the point of the whole breakup thing means you don’t have to check on me anymore.”

He said it lightly, but his arm tightened around Enjolras’s shoulders, just a little.

There were any number of things Enjolras wanted to say to that, but the problem was, when he was tucked like this against Grantaire’s side, warm and safe, the point of the whole breakup thing just seemed like a terrible idea.

He didn’t say that, though, just reaching out to pluck the cigarette from Grantaire’s fingers, raising it to his own lips. “Well,” he murmured, “bad habits, you know.”

#exr #enjolras #grantaire #enjolras x grantaire #Enjoltaire #ficlet #drabble #don’t know what this is #but have it anyway! #modern au #smoking cw #going to go ahead and toss a #fic I won’t be writing #on this #because I mean I don’t even know where this is going #so #breakup #angst #light angst really

[0v3rcast]

Departure

You can give no more than you have already. You leave.

(Abandoning a relationship, for your own sake. Angst.)

(Content warnings: I dunno, it's just sad? Mentions of a failing relationship?)

Three bags of your belongings sit at your feet.

In the largest bag are your clothes. Not the clothes they'd given you or any of their clothes that you'd claimed - they are your clothes, both from before the relationship and that you'd purchased for yourself, as well as several sets of traveling clothing that you'd purchased a piece at a time in the past months.

In the second largest bag are your toiletries. Soaps for your skin and hair, a toothbrush and toothpaste, fine-toothed combs, several ornamental hairpins that had belonged to a relative, a small lint roller, and small bottles of both perfumes and colognes.

In the third bag are personal possessions. Mora, photos, a music box you'd been given as a young child, a favorite painting you'd removed from the frame and gently rolled up.

You take nothing of theirs. Nothing they'd given you. Nothing you'd found shared meaning in as a couple.

The weapon you'd learned to master rests against your leg from where you sit at the kitchen table a final time.

On the table lie the supplies you'll require to outline your grievances. Word of mouth does not carry the same hollow permanence as a written message.

It takes you some time to gather all of the scattered emotions in your chest into a tight, controlled ball.

Ink meets paper, pooling for a single solitary moment, and you begin to write.

'To my beloved:

I am sorry, but I can't do this any longer, and I suspect from your lateness and distance in recent months that neither can you.

At the beginning of our relationship, you were the only person I could see - no other living being on Teyvat had the same attractive nature you did. You were everything to me, and in some ways, you still are.

I have tried to sustain this crumbling connection we share, to preserve the magnetism that bound us so tightly. Every morning, if you are even still there when I wake, I do not recognize the person I see.

My concerns for your health seem to go unnoticed. When I make you a meal, you've either already eaten or are too tired to sit with me.

When I plead with you to rest, you refuse to, even though I can see the exhaustion in your eyes.

My presence seems to irritate you. Our conversations tend to either devolve into fights or slowly go quiet.

You feel as cold as your side of the bed we used to share.

When I ask you to join me on my trips to enjoy a night with others or to visit a restaurant, you are unavailable due to work or simply have no interest in the journey.

I know you have not been finishing what I make you. I have found the meals in the trash, often with very little having been eaten.

You have given me gifts in recent weeks. Trophies of your victories, symbols of your status, proof of your work. Once upon a time, I would have lovingly collected them and placed them in our home in such a way that all who visited would see them, would know my pride and love for you.

They are no replacement for your presence in my life. You cannot expect them to be an acceptable substitute for all the little moments we no longer spend together.

But I suppose I should thank you, as well. The argument we had last week has given me much to think on, including myself.

Your behavior leads me to a single conclusion: the fault lies with me.

Was I not enough?

Did my actions push you away?

Was it something I said?

...is there another, one who can take care of you the way I cannot?

Am I so thoroughly unsatisfying?

The answer doesn't particularly matter anymore.

I wish to ask for one final favor. You may reject it, but for both our sakes I hope you will humor it.

Find another. Move on. Heal from this. Live a life you will not regret. I will do the same.

Perhaps in another life, this would never have come to pass. But here it has.

I doubt we will meet again.

Thank you for everything. Thank you for pretending. Thank you for being here long enough to make me feel special.

Beneath this note you will find two stacks of documents. The first are a collection of every expenditure I have incurred during our relationship, in the form of invoices, receipts, and bills, itemized from most to least expensive.

The second stack are records of withdrawals from my private funds for the purpose of repayment, with signed affidavits from bank managers to confirm that I have done this of my own free will and through legally-accepted channels.

I cannot give you back your time. All I can do is return the money.

When you read this, I will be gone. The world is too vast to stay and fester miserably in the absence of you.

This is goodbye, both as a person and as your partner. I do not do this to hurt you, but to spare us both more misery.

I want you to be happier.

I love you.'

You gently lay the letter down, pack away your writing tools, and tuck them into the third bag.

The front door shuts behind you with a sense of finality, and your shadow slowly follows you in the afternoon light.

You leave the place you once thought of as a home with no outward expression of the grief and sorrow oozing inside of you like wicked poison.

Those who question your sudden departure are simply told you are going to visit family, but otherwise you say as little as possible.

When they come home, the stars now twinkling in the night sky, they find the note.

As you said, you are gone. You crept over the horizon with the sunset hours ago.

And the weight of your absence slowly begins to settle on their chest.

#reader has a terrible time #genshin impact x reader #breakup fic #genshin angst #i think im good at writing angst #i may in fact be deluded

[augustinewrites]

oh man now i want to write gojo dragging nanami to a club

#but THIS #i will write this bcs nanami deserves it #augustinewrites aka augustinewritesanythingotherthanwhatshesays #sorry breakup fic you have to WAIT

[taihua]

#28 with fengqing for the prompt game pls♡♡♡

--in a rush of adrenaline.

The bones had barely hit the ground before Feng Xin's arm was wrapping around Mu Qing's waist, pulling him in close despite the unsheathed saber and the traces of blood clinging to their clothes, their hair, their skin. His kiss was as insistent as his hands, teeth knocking into Mu Qing's lip and fingers twisting into his ponytail.

"You," Feng Xin panted against his mouth, "scared me."

"I had it..." With their lips locking together, Mu Qing struggled to form an answer. He let his saber clatter to the ground as he braced a hand against Feng Xin's shoulder, and he could feel both of their heartbeats pounding between them. "... under control."

"You didn't." Feng Xin tightened his hand on Mu Qing's hip, a gesture that was accompanied by a shameless nudge of his knee between Mu Qing's. "I saw everything. You..."

Was the only way to distract him from his needless criticisms to deepen the kiss? Mu Qing let both of his arms wrap around Feng Xin's neck as his lips parted, a needy sound breaking free from his throat against his will.

The cleared throat off to their side wasn't audible the first time. The second time still didn't break off their entanglement, but it did startle them into turning their heads.

"I thought you two broke up," Xie Lian commented, scratching his chin. "It's so hard to keep up..."

Mu Qing rolled his eyes, using the interruption as an excuse to wriggle out of Feng Xin's grasp. "It's not like this means we're back together. Don't get wrong ideas, Dianxia."

#tgcf fic #fengqing #feng xin #mu qing #from the category of 'fics that would be longer if i wasnt so busy and could write more' #xie lian vs the perennial cycle of breakup/makeup/breakup that is fengqing

[hamartia-grander]

Wyll breaking up with the player character if Ulder dies so Wyll must become the Duke makes me wanna throw up sobbing because he actually thinks that just because his father's first duty being to Baldur's Gate made him a Bad Father that Wyll himself will inevitably be a Bad Lover because surely no one could match love with duty if his father couldn't, unknowing he has more love in one hand than his father had in his entire body. fuck

#More in my reblog #“my father taught me more lessons than I can count” yeah dog they were called CAUTIONARY TALES 😭😭😭 #“pull me too close and I'm destined to hurt you” FUCKIGN. BITING YOU #“a champion's heart is as sharp as a new blade” SO CRAZY I GOT THIS SICK ASS ARMOUR. TRY ME. #I'm actually in physical pain over this. Wyll my love. #I need to rip ulder in two with my bare hands right now. #sorry I JUST saw the breakup scene for the first time today and I haven't stopped thinking about it it's making me ill with sadness #he didn't even break up with ME but it fucking feels like it goddamn #bg3 #Wyll Ravengard #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 analysis #oh my GOD and the fact that he offers one last dance. I'mgoing to ufckingexplode #and he spends five whole seconds just. holding the character. not even dancing. #I watched the version with him and astarion ofc I don't romance wyll myself (lesbianism) #makes me wanna write a fucking fic (derogatory) #why the fuck is everyone so ill over astarion when mr insane mental health issues is RIGHT here (i know why. but still)

[smallblueandloud]

i keep feeling like. there's something parallel between rose and yaz's endings. maybe parallel isn't the right word -- but i keep wanting to draw comparisons, i think because they're two characters who really defined specific doctors and for whom it's basically confirmed the doctor returned their (romantic) feelings

(they're not the ONLY ones who fit this description, but i'm in no way qualified to talk about clara or even river, so bear with me)

it just feels. i don't know. rose never leaves on purpose. she is separated from the doctor, forcibly, every single time. the doctor sends her home, or she gets stuck in an alternate universe, or the doctor leaves her in the same alternate universe. every single time, she fights to get back to the doctor. the writers had to create a perfect happy ending for her (half-human version of her doctor who'll age along with her, in the alternate universe where her father is alive) because otherwise she wouldn't stop fighting to get back to the doctor, and the show can't have that. the show needs to move on. we need rose to fade into the past.

i haven't seen all of yaz's episodes, but her arc seems very similar from the limited amount i've seen. she keeps fighting to get back to the doctor. she's in love with the doctor, and the doctor basically confirms returning her feelings, albeit in a very stilted, hesitant, doctor-y way (compare "imagine that happening to someone you--" with "and if i was going to, believe me, it would be with you").

but when yasmin's doctor regenerates... yaz is just expected to. step away, go back to living her life, never see the doctor again. kinda like the abandonment that most companions have ever experienced -- getting dropped off once and then goodbye forever! -- except with more of the onus on her. the show has to move on from rose's era, so she gets dumped on a beach. the show has to move on from yasmin's era, so yaz has to accept that the doctor is going off to die alone. she has to make her peace with that information.

i don't know. i think yaz's ending is trying to go hand-in-hand with graham and ryan's purposeful exit -- it seems like the chibnall era tried really hard to have Not Terrible endings for companions. which is very admirable! but honestly? yasmin's ending feels crueler than most, including rose's. yaz was in love with the doctor. the doctor reciprocated those feelings. they should've gotten their equivalent of s2-era 10rose! she should've gotten a chance to stay with the doctor through their regeneration, the way other love interests have been able to (s/o to river and clara!).

i know this is because of the limitations of the show. bad ratings meant chibnall left after only one regeneration, and new incarnations of the show rarely bring in characters from other eras.

but i'm still very sad for yaz :( like yes, she wasn't just dumped on the curb without warning. but she was still expected to say goodbye to someone she loved, knowing that person was dying, and not say a word of protest. if the previous history of the show is any indication, she's never going to see the doctor again. she doesn't get a half-human version of the doctor to live out her days with, and she's not "allowed" to fight to get back to the doctor, either, due to the way the show's structured (but also the way the doctor talked about them saying goodbye). she has to live the rest of her life knowing that the doctor is out there, perfectly capable of visiting, and the only reason they won't visit is because yaz is from a specific time of their life that they've moved on from.

i know she has the companion support group. and i know she'll move on! she's yaz. she's strong and self-actualized. she'll be okay, eventually. but she has to be okay, you know? she has to learn to live without the doctor. rose never had to do that.

it just makes me sad :(

#doctor who #thasmin #yasmin khan #thirteen x yaz #i guess maybe this post can be summed up by ''yaz is kinda the (nuwho) doctor's first actual ex. and her being an ex makes me sad :('' #sb and l rambles #sb and l watches dw #this post has been brimming for awhile but i sat down to write dw fic tonight and went ''i can't do this without talking about yasmin'' #i'm not criticizing the show necessarily. i know why they had to make these choices. #i think i do prefer for 13 and yaz's ''breakup'' to be a mutual understanding as opposed to 13 leaving her on a curb w/out any warning #they were doing the best they could with a limited hand #it just makes me sad :( and it makes me hope that they mention yaz in the next season #essbie? hoping the show calls back to a love interest that isn't rose?? it's more likely than you think! #i am just so attached to yaz. i didn't expect to be but god she's so great and she just gets dealt such a difficult hand :( #and she copes with it! of course she does! ....but rose never had to deal with that kind of difficulty.

[itsscottiesstark]

Heaven isn't built to house a love like you and I - One love, one life

"Again, please." It was so soft, Aziraphale thought he had misheard him at first. Well, in all fairness, Crowley was about to fall asleep, and so his defences were down and he couldn't contain the feeling of euphoria coursing through his veins the minute Aziraphale's lips found his forehead. "Y- I'm sorry?" Crowley chose that moment to stare up at the angel and decided he was going to run with it. "I said again. Please." Aziraphale couldn't decline that request if he wanted to. He leaned in again, slower this time, and the kiss he planted on the demon's head contained all the love and adoration he felt but couldn't quite put into words, yet.

My fic's second chapter is officially up! We get to see behind the curtain and take a peek at Crowley and Aziraphale's "peaceful, fragile existence" they carved out for themselves. Take a look 🤍

#good omens #good omens 1 #good omens season 1 #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #good omens 3 #good omens season 3 #good omens fic #good omens fanfiction #good omens fix it #fix it #good omens ao3 #ao3 #fanfiction #good omens fanfic #crowley #aziraphale #crowley x aziraphale #david tennant #michael sheen #ineffable husbands #ineffable breakup #ineffable partners #ineffable divorce #ineffable idiots #itsscottiesstark writes #my posts

[afewproblems]

Season 2 Halloween Party AU Part Two

You can read part one here!

***

Eddie can't help but steal glances at his passenger as he starts the engine while Steve buckles himself in. 

A streetlight flickers overhead bathing the front seat in strobing gold light; it's so distracting Eddie nearly misses the way Steve's hands tighten around the seatbelt, a slight tremor running through them.

The other man looks exhausted but incredibly on edge, his back straight and shoulders stiff. Eddie has to stop himself from rolling his eyes as Steve scans the dark street ahead of them. 

If he's so embarrassed to be seen with the town freak, he can just get out and walk home.

Eddie almost says as much, but shakes the words off and flicks the small Snoopy bobblehead on the dash, before reaching for the edge of the passenger seat.

He feels Steve flinch at the sudden movement as Eddie braces himself on the seat to look out the rearview window. 

Eddie tamps down the flicker of irritation that burns in his chest, he hadnt taken Harrington for a Bible thumping asshole that would believe the rumours circling Eddie, but then again, Eddie didn't really know Steve. 

Eddie backs out of the space slowly, no need to wreck the paint even more by hitting some suburban moms stationwagon after all. He shifts into drive and pulls away from the street and the flashing lights of Tina's party behind them.

Steve is quiet as they drive, and as the sound of the dull throbbing bass and party goers begins to fade into the background, Steve slowly begins to curls inwards, tugging his arms around himself.

Eddie's eyes flick between Steve and the road, he's still not looking at Eddie, just out the window with a blank expression. It's the most quiet he's ever seen King-Steve, it's unsettling.

But, the more Eddie thinks about it, that really isn't true.

King-Steve hasn't been King of anything for awhile now, Tommy Hagan has seen to that. 

Steve has been keeping to himself more and more, preferring to hang out with Wheeler and,  surprisingly, Byers of all people. 

Eddie isn't sure he'd ever be able to comfortably sit at a cafeteria table with someone who cleaned his clock, but Steve makes it look easy.

Eddie sneaks another glance and startles to find that Steve is already looking at him. He's chewing his lip, his eyebrows pinched and Eddie can't help but feel as though he's being evaluated somehow.

Great.

"Actually, you know what," Steve says after they've turned down yet another subdivision, just one street shy before the main road, "you can just drop me off up here, my house is close".

"You sure?" Eddie asks, ignoring the frustration that rises in his chest once more, "I can drive you the rest of the way, it's not like we don't all know where the King's Domaine is".

Eddie watches as Steve's expression turns stony for the barest of moments before it shutters.

"Okay". 

Eddie nods with a grimace. He isn't even sure what he wanted to happen tonight, but it wasn’t this. 

Eddie makes a left and another right before pulling into the long drive of the Harrington house.

It used to make him scoff whenever he dealt here. The huge house, the lavish furnishings and fixtures. For fucks sake, the master bath had two sinks and the closet was almost as big as his own bedroom. 

But now as the engine dies and a strange silence falls on the pair, Eddie can't help but notice just how dark the house is. 

"Your parents here?" Eddie says, craning his neck to see the upstairs windows, he doesn't even notice Steve has unclicked himself from the passenger seat until the door is open and he's halfway out of the van. 

"Woah--"

"Thanks for the ride," Steve calls over his shoulder, "see you around Munson".

Eddie barely has time to open his mouth in protest before Steve is unlocking his door and slamming it behind him, leaving Eddie in the van alone. 

He sits for a second before sighing and turning the key once more, coaxing the engine back to life. Eddie turns again, bracing his hand on the passenger seat, debating if he should head back to the party, before he spots something on the floor shining in the glow of the streetlights.

A pair of large black sunglasses, and there's no doubt who they belong to.

"Well shit," Eddie hums thoughtfully as he bends forward to grab the glasses from the floor, "guess I'll be seeing you sooner than we thought".

***

The first bell rings as Eddie closes his locker, he looks out across the sea of teenagers making their way to homeroom before the second bell and smirks. 

Eddie should also be hurrying, considering how far his locker is from his first period class, but there's something about the way the teachers glare as he saunters in late that just fuels him.

Eddie smirks as he swings his backpack over his shoulder, the metal lunchbox inside clangs against something and Eddie winces at the sound. Shit.

He moves the pack off his shoulder and unzips the top, reaching inside to grab the sunglasses from where they've become trapped beneath his lunchbox. 

They aren't broken thankfully, Eddie's sure that Harrington wouldn't appreciate his gesture nearly as much if they came back cracked or bent. 

The thought makes Eddie stop for just a moment before he opens his locker again to place the sunglasses on the top shelf. Why is he even doing this? It's not as though King-Steve would appreciate this, he probably doesn't even know the glasses are missing. 

What does Eddie care about some asshole jock? 

An image of Steve with his head in his hands, his hazel eyes wet and wide as he looks up at Eddie has him slamming his locker shut, mortified by the unbidden thought. 

It's a complete betrayal of his own God damned doctrine, and worse, Steve is straight. All Eddie is doing is hurting himself in the long run with all his pointless pining.

Especially over someone that didn't want to be seen getting into his van last night. 

Eddie leans his head onto his locker and knocks it harshly against the metal, stupid.

The second bell rings and the last of the stragglers leave him alone in the hallway. Eddie taps his fingers on the locker and pushes himself away as he makes his way to the main door, throwing his backpack over his shoulder once more. 

He needs a smoke, and definitely doesn't need Mrs. McBrayden telling him off for not handing in yet another essay today. 

Whatever, it isn't as though Eddie hasn't read Macbeth, he knows that stupid play backwards and forwards --the witches speech is absolutely full of kickass creepy language and was perfect for this one campaign he ran a few years ago. 

Eddie could tell you all the major themes and conflicts no problem, it was writing it in such a way that his teacher would believe he actually wrote it that was the issue.

The last time Eddie actually tried on one of his assignments, he had been immediately accused of plagiarizing someone else's work. 

So, why bother. 

Eddie's already got a cigarette between his lips as he pushes the door open and makes his way to his favorite picnic table by the treeline when he hears a familiar voice behind the gym.

"Tell me--"

"Tell you what?" another voice scoffs, a woman's this time.

Eddie pokes his head tentatively around the corner, spotting the man he had driven home just the night before and his girlfriend alone, clearly fighting.

"Tell me," Steve says firmly, even as his voice waivers, "you love me".

Wheeler stands there, her arms wrapped tightly around her books, "really?"

The word comes out, wrapped in a smile, like it's a joke. 

Steve doesn't move, he doesn't laugh, he doesn't make a sound. 

Nancy's mouth opens and closes as her blue eyes search Steve's face for a long time. She tries for a laugh again, but her smile cracks as Steve continues to stand there expectantly.

Eddie can't see Steve's face from where he's standing but he does hear the low curse he lets out eventually before turning abruptly, swinging a towel over his shoulder as he jogs back to the field to join the rest of the class.

Well shit.

Eddie watches Nancy as she remains rooted to the spot, her face tipped down to the gravel. She breathes out a long sigh and raises one hand to brush through her hair before it drops heavily at her side. 

Eddie can't help but feel a twinge of sympathy as he slowly turns away, shaking his head as he continues to the picnic table. 

He lights the cigarette as he takes a seat facing the school, letting the edge of the table dig into his back. He pulls a long drag from the cigarette and breathes out, watching as the smoke billows away in the cool November air.

If it wasn't officially over last night, it definitely was now. The priss and the jock were no more, and knowing Hawkins?

It would be all over the school by lunch.

Part Three up!

Tag List: @eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123

and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @strangersteddierthings @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @outpastthebrakers @henderdads

#stranger things #stranger things season 2 au #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #steve and nancy breakup #what would have happened if eddie had been at tinas halloween party? #yall want a part three? #this fic is going places apparently #dont be mad at nancy #steve and nancy were too dumb kids that were affected by deep trauma and definitely did not know how to be in a relationship #eddie is having all sorts of complicated feelings about steve here #add a little bit of misunderstandings in the van as a treat #cw smoking #i will never get tired of halloween party breakup aus #you can pry them from my cold dead fingers #afewproblems writes

[novelconcepts]

bury it and rise above

Van Palmer is over the woods, the constant hunger, the pairing-off of her incredibly gay teammates--and, more than anything else, how badly she still wants her ex-girlfriend.

Leave it to the least-horny location in the Wilderness to help with these problems not at all.

E, 8642 words

The human body is an absolute nightmare. Like living inside an active volcano. Like a comedy improv show made entirely of fistfights. Van’s over it. She ever gets the chance, she’s vacating this flesh prison and opting into something that operates on logic. Something that isn’t all hormone and madness and fucking inconvenience. Something that doesn’t take one look at her current situation—starvation, malnutrition, literal goddamn cannibalism—and say, You know what? Throw in a dash of horny, just for spice. She’s fucking over this.

#fanfiction #yellowjackets #yj fic #yj fanfic #taivan #van palmer #taissa turner #why yes. i did rewrite that summary 52 times. just one of those days #grumpy van loml #playing in the sandbox of potential wilderness breakups is fun but you know what's more fun? constantly sticking them back together anyway #lowkey could exist in the same world as 'open the past and present' #because i truly don't know if i write anything that isn't secretly an easter egg from a prior story these days