#<- see what did i tell you. huge rambling mess.

[moonbeamwritings]

In your full two years of dating Atsumu, he has never eaten the blue candies in a pack of sour gummies. The sweet blue raspberry flavor has not passed his lips even once, despite your insistence that he eat them too.

He’d offered you a handful of the candy on one of your first movie outings as a couple, and when you excitedly plucked a few of the blue ones from the pile, rambling about how they were your favorite and how you wished they made a pack of just blue ones, all he could do was shake his head.

“You can have ‘em. I don’t like ‘em.”

And every time he bought a pack of the sweets after that, Atsumu always plopped the blue ones into your waiting palm.

So it’s a shock, a betrayal, when you come home from work to find him lounging on the couch, a blue gummy on its final journey towards his open mouth.

“’Tsumu, my love,” you question carefully, “what’re you doing?”

With a mouthful of candy, he replies, “Eatin’ candy.”

You take his chin in your fingers and squeeze, squishing his lips together and giving him this cute little fish face. “Did I just see a blue one?”

You’re being dramatic, you know you are, but you need to get to the bottom of this. You’d been convinced for two whole years that he didn’t like them, and now this? You think it’s only fair to ask questions.

“Mmyuh.”

Your brows furrow. “I thought you didn’t like them?”

He tries to answer, he really does, but it’s a muffled, garbled mess with the way you’re holding his cheeks. Reluctantly, you let go so he can explain. “Well,” he’s sheepish, his cheeks turning red beneath your gaze. Your fingertips feel warm. “Ya got this really cute, excited look on yer face when ya said how much ya liked ‘em that I just... kinda lied.”

You’re floored by his confession, heart skipping a beat in your chest at how cute he is. A huge doofus, sure, but so damn adorable.

Without an immediate response, he keeps going. “And then every time after that, ya gave me this pleased lil’ smile when I handed ‘em over. What was I supposed to do?”

“Tell me the truth?”

He shrugs and mumbles a childish, “I guess.”

You bring a hand back up to smooth over his jawline, staring at him as his gaze flickers between your own and the forgotten package of sweets. With each passing second, you feel adoration pumping through your veins. 

Squishing his cheeks together again, you peck a kiss to his puckered lips, to the tip of his nose, before finally telling him, “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

Atsumu chases your lips, kissing you once more, a dreamy look in his eyes. “Ya think ‘m cute?”

With a roll of your eyes, you settle onto the cushion next to him, throwing your legs across his lap. Atsumu beams at your proximity and slings an arm around your shoulders. And, falling back into an old habit, he places the bag of candy in your lap. “You can have the rest of the blue ones.”

You pull two from the bag and plop one into his hand. “We’ll share. We’ve gotta make up for lost time.”

“Mm,” he hums, kissing your temple, “I guess you’re right.”

[ashkabbom]

Temporary stresses - Mouthwashing

A/n: I disappeared but I'm back. I finished school and I'm officially on vacation 😋. I had another idea initially, but then I gave up writing to Curly with that one.🎀 Tell me if I wrote something wrong, English is not my first language and I use a translator a lot.

I wanted a story with a happy ending, although it wasn't supposed to end 100% like that 😭

Versão em português no wattpad: Livro de One Shots - Mouthwashing (Conta: ashkabbom)

•Captain Curly x Fem!Reader

Summary/Synopsis: You hate being emotionally raw and your husband has been acting strange lately.

Notes: I wrote this with a happy ending, but in situations like this stress can actually be very dangerous, so be careful if you are going to do this to someone or if you are the person to receive this one day.

You were uncomfortable, to say the least.

It had been seconds, minutes, HOURS, since he had answered you, he avoided you whenever he could! The worst part is that you don't know the reason for all this, even though you told him to tell you when something was bothering him.

He's been acting kind of strange since yesterday. It seemed like you were the only one who was out of touch with all that nervousness and discomfort.

You had been a bit paranoid for some time now, because of these attitudes you didn't know if you had done something and it was eating you alive.

Searching through all your memories and finding nothing you realize you did wrong. Maybe he just got tired?

"I did everything like I always did..." You were rambling on to yourself. Maybe you said something wrong? You know very well that words, no matter how simple they are sometimes, can hurt.

This was all giving you a huge headache and leaving you a mess of emotions. You were just too exhausted.

You were out of the house now, on your lunch break from work, messing around on your phone for a few minutes, more specifically texting your husband, hoping he would answer you like he always did.

He didn't answer you properly, the messages were short and seemed more direct than ever, your husband didn't write and talk to you like that. God, you just wanted to go home.

"You've got that look on your face again." You hear your co-worker, Linda, say and let out a sigh. "What happened now?"

"This is the fourth time we've seen you with that sad, sullen puppy face in the space of 15 minutes," her other friend, Charlotte, says..

"Do you think I'm old?" You ask suddenly.

"What happened to 'Hi friend, I missed you too'? It doesn't exist anymore?" The first woman says.

"Exactly, calm down. You're not old, you're perfect for your age. And old age comes to everyone! It's inevitable." The second friend explains with a raised eyebrow.

"But now it's so different... When we met I was different, my hair, my body... My age..."

"Girl, seriously, what happened? You haven't had these low self-esteem spikes in months, you were so happy" Charlotte says with a sad tone, sitting down next to you.

"That's the problem, I don't know what happened... Since yesterday Curly has been acting a bit strange, avoiding me and being vague at times, but at the same time he's been very short and direct." You think about what your morning had been like that day.

"Oh my, don't be like that, men are a mess all by themselves. I'm not going to put ideas in your head, but let us know if you need help with that." Linda says, running her hand over your back.

"You're still as beautiful as the day you met, so don't worry. If he's going blind and can't see it, take the trash out of your house before it starts stinking up the whole house" Charlotte says, making it clear what she originally meant.

"I just don't know if something happened and he didn't tell me, if I did something and he was uncomfortable..." You love your husband with all your heart, otherwise you wouldn't have married him.

"Girl, put your cards on the table and that man against the wall, if something is going on he will tell you, he is not a lying man" Charlotte advises you in a lighter way now.

"She's right, you have to talk to him, but really talk to him. Just starting a conversation with him won't make him tell you anything... Ask what's going on and if everything is okay." Linda hugs you affectionately. Honestly, maybe this stress is just in your head? You don't know.

"Okay okay, but I'll do it after work, there's still a few more hours until it's time to leave." Grumbling you and your friends get up, heading towards the door while talking about anything now.

You don't know what you would do without them.

Hours had passed since that conversation, it was already getting dark and you were driving home almost completely peacefully.

Being with your friends relieved you a lot, but you still had a little bit of a nagging feeling, not to mention that you also knew that life is not a strawberry and anything can happen.

You were together for 11 years, dating for 4 years and married for 7 years. There was no reason for it all to go down the drain. At least you told yourself that.

You had texted him earlier, saying you were going home now... He hadn't even seen the message, but that's okay! Sometimes he's just busy with... Anything, you think.

Parking the car, you sigh, You hated feeling as tired as you had been feeling lately, you wish you could enjoy some of your time at home instead of just passing out in bed. On the bright side, you were on vacation from your job in 2 days. Just two more days.

Today you would confront him! You would know what was going on with him lately and everything would be okay! Everything has to be okay.

You open the door to the living room and notice the loud silence, seeping through your entire house. You didn't have a good feeling about this..

"Curly? Love?" You call out as you walk through the door and into the room, feeling a little anxious.

You turn to the kitchen and then–

"SURPRISE!" Some voices say/scream at the same time, scaring you at first, but then you notice the cake on the table, balloons, birthday hats, coxinha and other things on the table.

A wave of relief washes over you.

It was your birthday today.

"Happy birthday my love, you don't know how much- Wow, hey, hey! What happened? Why are you crying?" Your husband's cheerful tone soon fades, quickly replaced by a tone of concern.

You hadn't even realized that the wave of relief had brought you to tears, you were crying.

Did something happen? Is she okay?" Anya, Curly's work friend and maid of honor at your wedding a few years ago, asks worriedly, approaching.

"Honey, is something hurting?! Do you need anything? Anything at all? Do you need to go to the hospital?" He was quick to come closer, putting his arms around you as he checked your body with his tender and concerned gaze. God, this was all you wanted.

You try to explain, through your tears, that you're okay, that everything is okay now.

"I thought-" You stop to sniff a few times "I thought you were mad at me. Acting different and distant."

"I told you you sounded thick, but it's amazing how your head doesn't work sometimes." You hear Swansea's voice and let out a laugh through your tears.

"I'm so happy that everything is okay and that you're not mad at me." You explain as you wipe away your tears, soon feeling Curly's hand on your cheek while the other rests on your waist.

"I'm sorry my love, I would never be mad or upset with you, a thousand apologies darling" He says as he peppers your face with kisses, apologizing several times. "Please, I'm so sorry"

"We told him to hide it and not tell you or give you any hints about your surprise party and such, since last time he ended up telling you... But I think asking him to disguise himself wasn't... the best idea" Daisuke says as he analyzes the situation with a disappointed face.

You laugh a little and soon they join you, then a small silence arises, but it is quickly broken.

"So?" Swansea begins

""Is everything okay in there?" Anya asks, looking at you calmly and with a little concern. "Are you feeling any pain?"

"How are you and she?" Daisuke asks in the most direct way.

You sniff one last time and look down, running your hand over your belly.

"I will never make you cry like that again." He finishes with a peck on the lips and runs his hand over your belly. "I will never worry the two girls in my life again. I promise"

You look at him fondly. "We're fine, we just went through a hurricane today and yesterday." You laugh lightly. "Now let's eat this cake, I'm hungry for two."

The others laugh at your answer and soon everyone gathers around the table to celebrate your birthday.

You really hope you never have to go through that worry again, not even Curly would do it again.

You have the most caring husband and your daughter would have the best dad.

[stevie-petey]

episode nine: the good

Soon it’s just you and Steve. You work around one another, anticipating each other’s next move, never getting in the way. Soft music plays from the record player that sits in the den. Steve puts on one of his father’s old records, gentle rock and delicate jazz. You hum to yourself, he hums with you, and it’s a peaceful morning. Until Richard and May Harrington walk in. Neither of you notice them at first. Steve is too busy spinning you around, playfully dipping you as the music comes to a grand crescendo. You’re laughing breathlessly, but soon your laughter turns into a yelp when Steve sees his parents standing in the doorway and drops you.

Summary: the party battles the horrors of high school and leave you stranded, tw: applying for college is harder than fighting literal demons (you would know, youve done it), jonathan joins your nightmare blunt rotation, max worries you, and steve solidifies his position of Best Boyfriend in the World as you slowly fall apart (though is anyone really surprised ??).

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: cursing, allusions to previous character death

Words: 11.2k idk how or why i needed to say so much

Before you swing in: we're here !!! FINALLY at the end of season 3 <3333 im so so so excited to present to you the groundwork for what i have planned for season 4 ;) it will be ... a lot. the season is huge, its difficult and scary, and i did my best to try and capture its dread and ominous sense of doom in this chapter. please enjoy and bear with me as i prepare for season 4. unsure when i will be done planning her, but i PROMISE itll be worth it !!

-

“Are you sure Ms. Bote is nice?”

“Yes.”

“And that Mr. Cune won’t question the hat?”

“Yes, Dustin.”

“And you’re absolutely sure we have lunch together?”

“Yes.” You tighten the straps on your mary janes and give your brother an exasperated look. All morning he’s been freaking out about his first day of high school. You understand his fear, it’s scary starting at a new school, but you’ve answered all his questions a million times by now and Steve is supposed to be here any second. “We need to go, buddy.”

Dustin shoves a pancake into his mouth, wiping his face with the back of his hand in a disgusting manner. “Wait, but what about my backpack–”

“I have it, Dusty!” Your mother walks into the kitchen and hands it to him. She kisses his mess of curls and strokes your cheek. “Are my darlings ready for their first day of school?”

“No.” You and Dustin say at the same time, which your mother frowns at. 

Dustin adjusts his backpack and gives you an odd look. “Why are you nervous? It’s not like you’re being blindly thrown into a den of hormonal creatures out for blood. You’re old now, they’ll leave you alone!” 

“Trust me, the college admissions process is a worse monster than school bullies.” You grab your own backpack and start heading towards the front door. “I have to start planning what to write, I–I need more clubs, and projects, and–”

The anxiety overwhelms you. It always starts like this: talk about college, you fall down a hole of uncertainty and dread and fear. It’s been like this ever since Jonathan moved away. The minute the Byers moved, you threw yourself into preparing for college. Rationally, you know it’s your poor way of coping with all the sudden change in your life. You don’t need a psychological research journal to tell you that. In a futile attempt to control your future, you’ve become obsessed with college. 

New York University, specifically. 

Jonathan has always dreamed of attending, and when you met him, it became your dream, too. 

“Okay, dear. Settle down, now.” Your mother places a hand on your shoulder and laughs nervously. She has about five seconds before you collapse into a mess of college admissions rambling and despair. “Let’s go outside and find that wonderful Stevie!”

Your body is shoved out the front door alongside Dustin’s. Steve’s car is parked, he stands outside it, arms crossed and a grin on his face. Your body relaxes when you see him, the buzz of anxiety dims. He’s wearing his Family Video vest, the green makes his tanned skin glow.

“She’s doing it again.” Dustin tells him, tossing his backpack into the backseat.

Steve winces. He knows exactly what your brother is referring to. He’s been at the other end of far too many anxious phone calls at three in the morning. “College?”

“Yeah, she almost had a meltdown in the kitchen.”

“I can hear you both, you know.” Though you try to seem fine, keep up the annoyance, you stand next to Steve and rest your head on his shoulder anyways. He wraps an arm around you and kisses your forehead. 

Steve rubs your arm and makes a sympathetic noise. Your mother, seeing how he holds you, squeals. “Oh, stay just like that, hold on!”

“Mom, what–” But your mother ignores you and runs back inside the house. You look at Dustin, terrified. “She’s not…”

He shakes his head at you. He leans against the car next to you and crosses his arms, mimicking Steve’s earlier stance.  “She’s mom. Of course she is.”

“What are you guys talking about–” A flash of light momentarily blinds Steve, and he flinches. “Woah, alright.”

“Smile, kids!” Another camera flash, and your mother coos as you, Steve, and Dustin awkwardly shuffle into frame. It’s not that the three of you dislike being near the other, it’s the fact that it’s seven in the morning and neither you nor Dustin are ready for the day ahead. Steve smiles, though. “That’s it! Everyone say, ‘happy first day of school’!”

A mess of incoherent mumbling follows your mothers command, but she doesn’t let it bother her. She takes a million pictures, preens when she sees Steve smile even wider, and she has to hold back tears. Her babies are all grown up. Dustin is a freshman now, and you’re a senior.

“Alright, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve has to quickly blink, trying to regain his eyesight. He adores the woman, he knows he’s become her favorite, but he really needs to get you to school before his shift at Family Video starts. “I have no doubt you’ve already taken the best picture ever.”

“Aw, just one more–”

“Mom.” Dustin clears his throat, urging her to stop, and she sighs. 

Your mother kisses Dustin’s head, then yours, and wishes you a good first day before getting into her own car to drive to work. “Bye, kids!”

You all wave at her, and Steve opens the car door for you. Once you’re seated, he goes to the driver’s side and tells Dustin to get in the back. The engine starts, soft music plays from Steve’s radio, and soon the three of you are driving towards Hawkins high. 

“No Robin?” You ask Steve after a few minutes of silence. He’s grown rather close to the girl, working together all summer, so you had expected her to drive with you guys to school. When you and him officially got together, Robin made the two of you promise that you wouldn’t abandon her. It was an irrational fear, you love Robin dearly, but you made sure to spend time with her and Steve equally anyways. 

“She has band practice this morning,” Steve responds. “So it’s just me and the Hendersons today.”

Dustin shoves his head in between the two of you. His seatbelt strains against his chest, but he doesn’t care. He’s on a mission to get as much information as he possibly can. He refuses to go into high school blind and pathetic. “Steve, you were once popular.”

“Why the past tense? I mean, I’d consider myself still pretty well liked–”

“I need you to tell me what you did that led to your demise so I can avoid doing the same.”

You snort and Steve sighs. The kid really keeps him humble. He stops at a light, looks at Dustin through the rearview mirror, and shakes his head. “What makes you think it was anything I did?”

“Kid’s got a point,” you say from the passenger seat. Steve gives you an offended look and you raise your hands in surrender. “Hey, all I’m saying is that I also don’t really know what happened. You’ve got a track record of pissing off the wrong people. One minute you were King Steve, the next you were shunned.”

Steve groans. “You people have no faith in me.” He can feel you and Dustin staring at him, unbelieving. He hates when the two of you team up against him; it makes it harder for him to lie. Truthfully, he doesn’t want to tell you what happened. Not because he’s embarrassed, or ashamed, even. 

He knows it will only upset you. Reopen wounds. 

But you and Dustin keep staring at Steve and there’s still at least ten minutes left of the drive. Weighing his options, Steve figures it’s best if he just tells the truth. Like ripping off a bandaid, knowing the pain will be there regardless of how long you stall. “Okay, fine.” He scratches his nose, clears his throat. “It was, uh. Because of Billy.”

The temperature in the car drops. It’s suddenly ice cold. 

Dustin slowly leans back against his seat. Steve faces ahead, eyes on the road, but he watches you from his periphery. No one has mentioned Billy since his death, at least not in front of you or Max. 

Especially Max. 

They wait for you to react. To tense up, ball your hands into fists and wipe away tears. They expect the guilt you’ve barely kept hidden to resurface, but you don’t do any of that. Instead, you surprise them. “Can’t believe you let a mullet defeat you.”

Steve isn’t sure if he’s allowed to laugh at first, worried it’s some bizarre test of yours. But he sees the smile on your face, albeit forced and terse, but he knows you’re trying. So he plays along, relieved that you’re doing what you can. “I don’t know, I thought the mullet looked pretty good.”

“Get a mullet and see how fast I leave you.”

Dustin nods in agreement, Steve shakes his head with a laugh, and the temperature in the car returns. There’s still a slight chill in the air, there will always be a slight chill, but you pull your jacket tighter around you and ignore it. 

When you get to the school, Dustin stares at the hounds of teens all walking through the parking lot. He gulps, tightens his hands around his backpack, and you try to ease his apprehension. 

“Hey, look at me.” He does, and you extend your arm, offering a handshake. Dustin eyes you wearily, but reluctantly he shakes your hand. You nod at him, hand firm around his. “It’s just you and me. And Lucas. Max, too. Unfortunately, possibly Mike. Copy?”

“Copy.” Dustin releases your hand and salutes you. He pushes his hat down, takes a deep breath, and unbuckles his seatbelt. “Let’s go.”

“Good luck, little Henderson.” Steve salutes him as well before turning to you. He presses his lips to yours, hums, a soft smile on his face. “And good luck, angel.”

Ignoring Dustin’s dramatic gagging in the back, you squeeze Steve’s hand and smile back at him. “Thanks, honey. Have a good day at work.”

Dustin nearly falls out of the car with how fast he scrambles out of it. He’s about to ban all forms of physical affection between you and Steve. It’s disgusting. No one wants to see any of that. You follow after your brother and exit the car.

You only make it a few feet before Steve rolls down the car window and shouts, “I love you!”

A few students in the parking lot turn, and their faces contort into shock when they see none other than Steve Harrington. He waves at them, cocky as always, and you’re both mortified and so in love. He may have lost his crown, but he will always be the king. While Dustin ducks his head down in embarrassment, you wink at Steve. “I love you, too!”

“You’re going to be the reason I end up getting thrown into a dumpster on my first day.”

“Aw, is Dusty-bun jealous?”

“Go die.”

–

The entire day it feels like you’re missing something. 

When you get to homeroom, there isn’t a seat saved for you at the front. When the physics teacher drops his chalk five times within the first five minutes, there isn’t anyone to tease you for your poorly contained snicker. In the library, you’re forced to sit in a corner because there’s no one to share the plush sofa with. 

There’s no one who whispers answers to you during calculus. No one who hooks their foot around your desk’s leg. No one who doodles in your notebook just to get you to laugh. 

Jonathan’s absence is palpable. 

You knew it would feel weird, starting senior year without him, but you didn’t think it’d feel so lonely, either. Empty. Unfinished. 

By the time lunch comes, you’re slowly losing your mind. You need someone to talk to. Robin and Nancy don’t share any classes with you, Jonathan had been your only real friend at Hawkins, and now you’re paying the price. 

You’re the first one at the lunch table, which you figure is a good thing. Earlier in the week you and the party had all agreed to sit together at lunch, you’d been excited to finally share the same school building as them. However, you hadn’t wanted to hover over them. You wanted them to branch out, meet new people, so lunch was your agreed upon time with them. 

The lunch room fills with students and you wait anxiously for the rest of the party. You’re excited to see them, ask how their days are going, maybe even gossip about the freshmen, but when they arrive it’s almost as if a tornado rips right through you. 

“There you are!” Dustin finds you first and slides into the seat next to you, nearly causing you to face plant into the ground. “Look, we gotta talk.”

You frown. “Okay, is everything–”

“We can’t stay and eat.” Mike cuts to the chase, not even bothering to sit down. Lucas stands behind him, quiet and nervous.

“What, why?”

“Eddie Munson wants to meet us.” Dustin says the boy’s name as if you should know him. But you don’t, and now you’re really confused. What does he have to do with any of this?

“Eddie…?”

Mike rolls his eyes at you. “Eddie Munson, Hellfire club, DnD?” When he sees that nothing he’s saying makes any sense to you, he huffs. “Seriously, do you not know anything?”

You throw a chip at him, hurt. “I was in choir, not some stupid DnD club.”

“Hellfire club isn’t stupid–”

“Anyways!” Dustin cuts the fight short. There isn’t time for you and Mike to argue right now. “Eddie is the dungeon master, and he’s recruiting us to join his party! We–we gotta go and meet him, Y/N. He doesn’t just let plebe freshmen like us join.”

“He’s legendary.” Mike says, and sadly you know he means it. It’s not often someone has the boy’s full admiration. Mike is hard to impress, and this Eddie guy seems to have him wrapped around his finger already.

Dustin stares up at you, eyes pleading to understand, and you know you can’t ruin this for him. Only hours ago he had been terrified of his first day, and now he’s almost vibrating with excitement over the possibility of joining some club. There will be people there like him, others interested in what he loves, and you can’t let your own loneliness ruin that. 

“Well,” you clear your throat, try to appear excited for the boys. “Go see Eddie, then.”

“You sure?” Dustin doesn’t want to just leave, he knows you were looking forward to lunch today. He’ll stay if you need him to, he’s sure Mike can talk his way in with Eddie. 

You smile at him, force your voice to be light. They’re growing up. You all are. “I’m sure, it’s your first day. You’re supposed to be joining a bunch of clubs, it’s a good way to make friends. I’m proud of you. Seriously.”

Dustin isn’t entirely convinced, but Mike has already grabbed his arm to go and find Eddie. He turns to Lucas, beckons him to follow. “C’mon, dude.”

“I’ll-uh. Follow in a sec.” Mike gives him an odd look, but Lucas is already sitting down next to you. Seeing this, Mike gives up and leaves with Dustin. As soon as they’re gone, Lucas lowers his voice and leans in close to you. “Hey, do you, uh. Know Jason Carver?”

The scent of chocolate ice cream infiltrates your nose, the sound of it colliding into the teen’s pants rings in your ears. The memory of it is tangible, and you have to hold back a laugh. Yeah, you know Jason Carver. “I mean, we aren’t friends, but we know each other. Why?”

“Do you…” Lucas looks around, making sure Mike and Dustin really are gone, before he continues. “Do you think he’d let me join the basketball team?”

You’re surprised. Sure, Lucas has always shown an interest in the sport. He plays with Steve sometimes, they trade cards, but you didn’t think he’d be interested in the school’s team. “Oh.” Then, you realize why he’s stayed behind. “You don’t want to join Hellfire, do you?”

“I know I’m just a freshman, and–and Mike would probably call me dumb for wanting to even try out, but. I don’t know. I think… I think I could be really good on the team. Might make high school easier.”

“Then you should go for it,” you reassure Lucas. He’s always been so careful to not upset others. He’s loyal, down to his very core, you understand the fear that doing something for yourself brings. “Jason isn’t so bad. A bit much, but kind. He’s a team player, and I think they'd be lucky to have someone like you.”

Lucas smiles shyly at you. “Really?”

“Really. Now, go and find the guy. Ask him when try-outs are, and I’ll talk to Steve about practicing more with you. How’s that sound?”

“You’re the best!” Lucas gives you a quick hug, already getting out of his seat, and runs right into Max. They collide, he manages to save her from falling, and he laughs sheepishly. “Sorry, you okay?”

Max nods, silent, and immediately you and Lucas know that today is one of her bad days. Her eyes are sunken in, it doesn’t look like she got any sleep last night. She sits down next to you, and you nod at Lucas, signaling to him that it’s okay if he leaves. You’ll take care of her. 

Lucas hesitates, unsure, but reluctantly leaves when you nod at him once more, urging. If it was anyone else, he would stay, but it’s you. Besides Lucas, you’re the only other person Max talks to. You’ll stay with her, Lucas deserves to go and branch out like Mike and Dustin are.

“So, did you know about Lucas wanting to join the basketball team?” You turn to Max once the boy has left. She shrugs, picks at the food in front of her. It’s the most response you’ll get from her, and you sigh. “You don’t want to be here either, do you?”

She looks up at you, alarmed that you caught on so fast, and you just shake your head at her. You dig into your backpack, take out some cookies you baked the night before. They were supposed to be for all the kids today, but they’ve all left and Max needs them more right now. “Here, take these. Go to the left stairwell, next to the choir room. No one goes there during lunch, it’s quiet.”

“Thank you,” Max exhales with relief, taking the baked goods from you. Tears lump in her throat, she doesn’t know how you always manage to do this. To see through her, always say the right thing. 

“Of course, my dear.” You risk touching her face, she’s cold, but she closes her eyes and breathes in at the comfort. “I expect to see you at Bookstrordinary after school today, though.”

Somehow Max laughs, and the action hurts her to do so. It’s becoming harder and harder to bear the sound of her own happiness. But she nods at you, understanding that it’s an order she can’t disobey, and leaves. 

Then it’s just you at the lunch table. Alone. 

Nancy is at yearbook, she’s told you all about her grand plan of reforming the club into something more than just homecoming polls and gossip panels. Robin is at yet another band practice, preparing for the annual back to school pep rally later this week. Steve is at Family Video, bored out of his mind, both of you wishing he were here instead. 

And Jonathan is across the country, at an entirely different school, aching to be near you again. 

The thought of him in California only intensifies the loneliness that you feel. The feeling overwhelms you, and before it can swallow you whole, you dig through your backpack once more. Your fingers shake as you rustle through the notebooks and textbooks, and they clutch desperately at your walkman when you finally find it. The mixtape Jonathan made for you before he left sits within it. 

You quickly place the headphones over your head, muffling the sounds of the cafeteria around you. Your fingers find the play button with practiced ease, and soon the beginning notes of the Beatles play through the wire and into your headphones.

The song soothes you, it quiets what you don’t want to hear; it makes you smile. The mixtape is all you’ve been listening to ever since Jonathan left. Though it can never replace his presence, it’s enough for now. 

You stare at the empty seats around you. John Lennon’s voice floats through your ears. 

Welcome to senior year.

– 

Miraculously, it’s Nancy you lean on the most as the autumn leaves turn orange and the summer’s heat dies down. She finds you later during your first week, grabbing lunch from your locker, and she stops you. 

“Don’t tell me you’re going to spend another lunch alone.” Nancy has never been one to greet someone. She always gets straight to the point, a quality that you normally admire.

However, you feel embarrassment rise within you, slightly off put by the cruel words. Sure, you’re not necessarily thrilled that you’ve spent your first few days of senior year alone, but you didn’t need Nancy reminding you of that. “Hello to you too, Nance.”

“Shit, I didn’t mean to offend you.” She holds her notebook close to her chest and looks down in shame. It’s weird, there’s a distance between you that has only seemed to widen despite how hard the two of you try to bridge it. For a while things were good, great, even. She was genuinely your friend, but sometimes insecurities can hurt the ones people love the most. 

“Not really sure how I was meant to take that.” You close your locker and try to excuse yourself. You’re exhausted, you hardly slept the night before. “Look, I should go. I stayed up all night working on stupid college applications and I just… I’m tired.”

Nancy’s posture straightens, eager to grab onto any opportunity to amend things with you. “I can read over whatever you have.” When you raise your eyebrows at her, she quickly backtracks, worried she’s overstepped. “I–I mean, that is, if you want. Not that you need the help! It’s just–”

She forces herself to stop. She’s rushing her words, messing it all up. Her shoulders drop, Nancy takes a deep breath and looks you in the eye. She never apologized for her words earlier this summer. The way she sneered venom at you, but she’s carried the guilt of it ever since. “I’m… trying. I promise I am.”

Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers have never handled vulnerability well. It’s what made you stand out against them, set you apart, and you can’t help but find this quality in them endearing. You know that Nancy is trying to go back to how things were, before one phone call between the two of you revealed the unspoken resentment she held. 

You never blamed her for any of it. But you know she blames herself, and Jonathan’s absence doesn’t help; both of you miss him, neither of you can afford to lose anyone else. 

So you try as well.

“I’ll let you read over what I have only if you let me read what you’ve written as well.” You nudge her shoulder with yours, getting her to finally smile. “I’m curious to see what that brain of yours has thought of already.”

Nancy laughs, relieved. “Definitely nothing as creative as whatever you’ve written.”

“We’ll see about that, Wheeler.”

Soon you find yourself in the yearbook room. Nancy introduces you to some kid named Fred, who moons over her the entire time you’re there, though she doesn’t seem to notice. She’s too busy reading through your ideas, and you find yourself admiring her side profile. The way her eyelashes kiss her brows, the soft cherry on her lips.

Nancy is beautiful. You understand how Jonathan and Fred and Steve and countless other guys in Hawkins have lost their minds over her. 

You read through portions of Nancy’s writing, and the two of you sit quietly side by side editing the essays. She marks some things down, crosses out some lines, and you do the same. It’s lovely, being by her side again. You hadn’t realized just how much you missed her following the events of this summer. 

“So, New York University, huh?” Nancy eventually breaks the silence.

You nod, humming as you skim over a line that you particularly like. Circling it, you respond. “Yeah, it’s been my dream school ever since I was young.”

Though you’re applying to other schools as well. A few state schools, some in Virginia, close to your father. But New York is truly where you hope you’ll be next fall.

“Jonathan mentioned that you like psychology, right?”

“Yup,” you cross out an extra word. “Particularly child psychology. Figured that after everything we’ve been through, especially the kids, it’d be useful if at least one of us has any idea what’s going on inside our minds.”

Nancy chuckles. “Fair.”

It falls quiet again, but you don’t want the peace to end. “I heard from Jonathan that you’re looking into Emerson.”

“He tells you everything, doesn’t he?” Though this time Nancy’s question is asked with fondness, slight exasperation and humor mixed in.

“Mhm, we’re a package deal. You tell one of us something, then the other is bound to know eventually.” You look up at Nancy and lightly touch her arm. “Though he still keeps some things from me when it comes to you, don’t worry.”

She laughs again, and finally you allow the silence to settle upon you. It’s a comfortable one. There isn’t a tension underlying it. For the first time in a long time, you’re able to simply sit next to Nancy and feel that she wants you there with her. 

After that day, you and Nancy spend almost every lunch period helping each other with your applications. 

Steve helps you, too. In his own ways. 

While he can’t help you write the essays, he lets you call him at two in the morning to rattle off application ideas so you won’t forget them. He doesn’t complain when you wake him up and he has an early shift the next day. Instead, he listens. Steve offers you his own tired input and indulges in whatever you need to feel that you’ll succeed; he’s the most doting, patient boyfriend you could ever ask for. 

And, secretly, Steve adores it. Especially when you call him some nights just to have him come over and hold you. 

Those are his favorite nights. Tonight is one of them.

“Why does college exist?” Your cheek is pressed against Steve’s chest as you lay in your bed together. The steady rise and fall of his breathing is melodic. 

He plays with a strand of your hair, you feel him shrug. “‘Dunno, but you’re almost done.”

“Yeah, just have one more application to send before I get to spend four agonizing months waiting to find out if I even get in. How fun.” Sarcasm drips from your lips. You’ve spent the last two months obsessing over it all, which words to write in your essays, which clubs to join, which teachers to beg for recommendation letters. 

And now you have one application left. Then you’ll be forced to wait, without any control of the inevitable outcome. 

You’ve never been someone comfortable with letting go of control. 

“Everything will be fine, angel. NYU would be stupid not to let you in.” Steve reassures you with a kiss to your temple, then to your cheek, the tip of your nose, the dip of your brows. As he kisses you, he envisions doing this a year from now, in a small, rundown apartment with sirens wailing outside and a fire escape that creaks in the wind. The song of New York City. 

Eventually Steve’s lips will find yours, and the conversation will be long forgotten. It’s how most of your nights end now, lost in the kisses as his breath mixes with yours. Hands will wander. Sighs will leave parted mouths. Quiet, soft, aware of the precariously thin walls. 

You haven't slept with Steve, at least not yet. Though you’ve been together a few months now, it still feels too soon. He’s your first boyfriend, your first kiss, your first real love, and Steve doesn’t want to rush you. If all you ever do together is lazily kiss and breathe each other in, then Steve will happily part your lips with his and draw soft sighs out from you.

In the morning you’ll awake with Steve’s lips on your neck, his eyes shining up at you, and in the morning sunlight, before you’ve fully woken up, the air between you is sacred. 

–

“I sent in my final application,” you’re whispering, not wanting to wake up your mom who has fallen asleep on the couch. It’s nearly midnight in Indiana, but in California it’s only nine and Jonathan has just finished his school work for the night. “NYU, it’s done.”

On the other end you hear shuffling as Jonathan leans against his kitchen wall. Will sits at the table with El, he sketches the early stages of a painting and she studies grammar. Jonathan watches them, his mom is in bed, and he forgets for a moment that he’s on the phone with you.

“Bee?” You say the childhood name so softly, so tenderly with concern, and it brings Jonathan back to himself. 

“I’m here, sorry.” He clears his throat, his head is still slightly muffled. Jonathan met a guy in woodshop this week, his name is Argyle, and somehow during lunch he found himself in the back of the guy’s van with a blunt hanging loosely from his lips. The smoke dulled the ache of missing Nancy, of missing you. Jonathan can’t tell you this, though. You’d kill him, and he hates disappointing you. “What were you saying?”

You frown slightly, he sounds different. There’s something in his voice, it’s raspy and he sounds distant. The sound is lonely, he sounds lonely. Jonathan isn’t really here, despite the fact that he’s talking to you. The last few phone calls have been like this. You don’t know what to do.  

When Jonathan left, the two of you promised to call each other every Friday, a compromise. A way to create distance, yet tether you to each other. Jonathan calls you every Friday, Nancy gets him every day the rest of the week, and it works. This is how it’s always been ever since early September.

At first you guys would talk about how your weeks had gone. Jonathan would complain about the California heat and you would tell him about how Mike and Lucas had crashed your date with Steve one night. Laughter would float over the telephone lines. Teasing, whispered “I miss you’s” and spoken goodbyes with the promise of talking again next week. 

But last week when you called, the teasing was gone. The laughter was minimal. You had complained about an exam that day and Jonathan had given one word responses that had worried you. It had been odd, but you thought that maybe he’d been tired that day. Everyone has a bad day, you know this.

Yet it’s Friday again and Jonathan couldn’t feel farther away from you.

“I mailed my NYU application in, bee. You send in yours yet?” Voice light, cheery. You do what you can to try and keep him afloat. You try to grasp at the good that’s left between you. Remind Jonathan that you’re right here, still with him, without scaring him away. “You remember our plan, right? Me and you in New York, together.”

Since you were kids the plan has always been to go to college together. Back then, neither of you could fathom a reason to ever be apart. You were invincible, the same way all kids think they are before the world tells them otherwise. 

But you and Jonathan aren’t invincible, you never were. 

You can hear the way your question suffocates him. The breath that he holds, stilted and torn, suffocates you as well. 

Nausea punches Jonathan, the smoke from earlier suddenly fogs his throat. He doesn’t know what to do. Nancy wants him to go to Emerson with her, he promised you NYU when he was twelve, and California has his mother and Will.

“Yeah, yeah. I–I mean, I sent mine in. Last week.”

Jonathan is lying. You’ve known him for almost six years; he always stumbles over his words when he lies.  

Part of you wants to ask him why he’s doing this, lying to you and pulling away. Another part of you, the larger, more naive part, doesn’t want to believe it. You clear your throat, swallow down the hurt, and choose naivety. “Oh,” your tone is too pinched, too put together. You clear your throat again. “That’s–that’s great! I, um. Surprised you didn’t read the essays to me. Have me edit them, like we’ve always done.”

Jonathan leans his head against the wall and squeezes his eyes shut. He’s never been able to lie to you, he knows you’re desperately trying to overcompensate, as you always do. He hates it. He hates himself. “Yeah, well. Got excited, I guess.”

You hum, words failing you, and the line goes silent.

Dread replaces the laughter that night.

– 

Before you know it, it’s Halloween and the party has infiltrated Steve’s house. 

The holiday falls on a Saturday, and the party deems itself too old to trick or treat. When they find out that Steve’s parents won’t be home that weekend, they demand to spend the night at his house and watch horror movies.

Steve fights back, complains that he doesn’t want them taking over his living room, but his complaints fall on deaf ears. That, and Dustin ropes Robin into their plans. 

“Oh, God. Don’t open the door!” Dustin shrieks, throwing popcorn at Steve’s TV as he covers his eyes with a blanket. He cowers against Lucas, who shoves him off, and Mike snickers. Max sits on the couch, outside of their fort, and watches the boys. None of them try to get her to sit with them. They know they’re lucky that she even showed in the first place. 

“I can’t look.” Robin’s voice carries over, you can almost picture her cringing as she holds a pillow to her chest. Mike chose a particularly gory movie, and the kid’s mind frightens her.

A loud crash sounds, then a woman screams. You figure the protagonist did open the door and has now died, though you can’t be sure. You’re in the kitchen with Steve, taking out the final batch of oatmeal raisin cookies from the oven. The smell wafts through the home, bringing warmth to a house that Steve has always found cold, and he places his hands on your hips. 

“You spoil the kids too much,” he presses his nose against your cheek and kisses you. “They invade my home and you bake them delicious goods.”

You set the tray of cookies down onto the counter. “As if the cookies aren’t for you, too.”

“That isn’t important. We’re focusing on my hostage house, Y/N.”

“‘Hostage house’, quite the alliteration there.”

Steve now kisses your neck, distracting you as you plate the cookies. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.” 

“Don’t make me come in there!” Dustin screams, and Robin echoes him with her own disgusted yelling. 

You laugh at their theatrics while Steve rolls his eyes. He really hates that his house has become the party’s source of entertainment. He just wants to compliment his beautiful girlfriend in peace. Who would punish a guy for that?

In his moping Steve almost misses you walking back into the living room. He follows, stumbles over his feet, never wanting to be more than a few inches away from you. You’re magnetic, always pulling him in. 

Mike is the first to grab a handful of cookies. Lucas and Dustin follow quickly after. They shove the food into their mouths and you scoff at their lack of manners. They’re such boys, growing taller every day, and they’re just as disgusting as they were when they were kids. 

“Want one, Max?” You hold the plate up to her, noticing that she hasn’t moved from her seat. She shakes her head at you, eyes never leaving the screen. Lucas and you share a look, the same concerned expression on your faces. 

The moment is broken by Robin, who grabs a cookie and practically melts. “Holy shit, Y/N. You bake these regularly?”

“Usually once a week,” you shrug at her. “Though I once baked six batches during finals week.”

“God, that was a good week.” Dustin hums, lost in the blissful memory.

Robin grabs your arm, eyes wide with enthusiasm. “I will give you my firstborn child in exchange for my own batch of cookies.”

Steve pokes her shoulder. “You already promised your firstborn to me after I agreed to cover your weekend shift.”

“I can have twins.”

You laugh at her. “That’s a terrifying thought.”

Robin sticks her tongue out at you, causing you to laugh even more, and Mike puts the next movie on. Everyone settles back down, you lay with Steve in the lovechair with Robin in front of you. Max has the couch to herself, the boys are sprawled on the floor in a mess of pillows and blankets, and for the first time in months you feel a certain warmth having your family together. 

Sometime during the night the clock strikes twelve. 

It’s November 1st, 1985. 

Steve’s nineteenth birthday. 

Robin snores softly on the ground, arm underneath her head as a makeshift pillow. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas are all curled up against one another, their faces young again. Max sleeps softly on the couch, her hand dangles over the edge, grazing Lucas’ outstretched arm and open palm. 

Steve lays beneath you, he isn’t quite asleep yet. You’ve come to learn the rhythm of his breaths as he sleeps. The way they slow, the pattern steady. You lift your head up, wanting to admire him, and find that he’s already looking at you. 

“Hi, angel.” He whispers, smiling sweetly. 

You smile back, you always smile back at him. “Hi, honey.” Doing your best to remain quiet, you crawl up the length of Steve and nuzzle your way into his neck. You kiss the dip just above his collarbone, causing him to shiver. “Happy birthday.”

Arms encase you, pull you deeper into the body you lay on. Steve’s body heat warms your face, warms your bones, and you wish you could stay like this forever. In Steve’s arms, the scent of him overwhelming your mind, his touch calming you. 

“Thank you,” he kisses the top of your head. He lingers, his lips soft. The two of you stay like this, his head against yours, your chin tucked into the alcove of his neck. Your breathing syncs with his, his fingers trail up and down your spine. Your fingers splay over his chest, warming his ribs. 

In the morning, Max wakes everyone up. 

“My mom will be worried,” she kicks Mike, nudges Lucas’ shoulder. “Wake up, idiots.” 

Steve groans, squinting his eyes against the morning light. He tries to roll over and block it out and nearly shoves you off the seat in the process. “Steve!” He manages to catch you in his sleepy state, but his movements are slow. 

“Sorry!”

You clutch your chest, heart pounding. “You’ve done that way too many times now. I’m starting to think you want to throw me onto the ground.”

“Lucas once promised he could catch me if I jumped into his arms.” Max says, then she points to a scar on her knee. “Turned out he couldn’t.” 

“Hey!” Lucas sits up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “I really thought I could do it.”

Mike stretches. “Your fault for trusting him, Max.”

Lucas shoves him and the two start to wrestle on the floor. They’re a tangle of lanky limbs, knocking into Dustin who still hasn’t woken up yet. They roll on top of the boy, and he wakes up to Lucas’ knee in his face. “What the hell?”

Dustin joins the fighting now, and Robin throws a pillow at them. “Guys! It’s too early for this!”

They don’t listen. 

It takes a lot of pleading, negotiating, and bribes in order to break the fight up. It takes even longer to wrangle the kids out of Steve’s home, much to his dismay. They leave a mess of strewn popcorn all over the carpet and pillows missing feathers. You stay behind, offering to help clean the mess, and Robin rushes out an apology and happy birthday to Steve as she runs out the door to get to work. 

Soon it’s just you and Steve. You work around one another, anticipating each other’s next move, never getting in the way. Soft music plays from the record player that sits in the den. Steve puts on one of his father’s old records, gentle rock and delicate jazz. You hum to yourself, he hums with you, and it’s a peaceful morning.

Until Richard and May Harrington walk in.

Neither of you notice them at first. Steve is too busy spinning you around, playfully dipping you as the music comes to a grand crescendo. You’re laughing breathlessly, but soon your laughter turns into a yelp when Steve sees his parents standing in the doorway and drops you.

“Dad!” Steve immediately bends down to pick you up, endlessly apologetic. He ducks his head, eyes on you, though his body doesn’t turn from his father. “I’m sorry, angel. You alright?”

You reassure your boyfriend that you’re fine, more worried about the fact that you’re dressed in clothes from yesterday with horrendous bedhead meeting his parents for the first time. Richard eyes you in Steve’s arms. He has a look of disinterest on his face. “Son.”

“What, uh.” Steve clears his throat, curls a protective arm around your waist. He didn’t mean for this to happen. His parents were supposed to be gone until Tuesday. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here.” 

“Right.”

Father and son stand in front of one another. Neither speaks. Steve feels like a little boy again, scrutinized underneath his father’s intense gaze. Never good enough. Never worthy of anything other than berating and lectures. 

You wring your hands nervously, unsure what to do. The air is thick. Steve looks so much like his father, it’s almost uncanny. They have the same build, the same moles that dot along their handsome faces. Only his father is dressed in a suit, the lines in his face are hard, weathered. He’s who you picture Steve would’ve been, in a different universe where you were never his friend. 

May Harrington gave her son all of her delicate features. The soft turn of his nose. The plush, pink lips. His doe eyes, his smile. The only feature that separates her from her son is her honey blonde hair. She’s beautiful, elegant and poised, and when she steps towards you, you can smell lavender perfume. “You must be Y/N. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Hi, Mrs. Harrington.” You’re quick to meet her where she stands. You’re nervous, you have to discreetly wipe your hand on your pants before shaking hers. “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you. Your banana bread is lovely.”

The woman smiles, it’s so much like Steve’s that you want to cry. “Thank you, dear.”

“Of course, and I apologize for meeting like this. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Richard makes a mean, gruff sound. He shakes his head, steps next to his wife. He doesn’t like you, you can feel it by the way he blocks his wife’s view of you. “Oh, no. I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Dad–” Steve steps forward as well, blocking his father’s view of you. He’s angry, his shoulder blades close together. He doesn’t like how the man is treating you; you’re too good for such cruelty.

“What did I tell you about bringing your hookups to the house, son?” Richard sneers, turning his nose up at you. That’s all he sees you as. Just another one of Steve’s flings, one of the girls from his past. 

“Y/N is not just some hookup,” Steve clenches his jaw, tries to steady his breathing. He doesn’t want to fight with his dad in front of you. Not when he was having such a good morning, spending his birthday with your hands wrapped around his neck and your giggles singing in his ears. “She’s my girlfriend, and I love her.”

Richard chuckles, he doesn’t believe his son. “Okay, you love her. I’m sure your mother and I will walk in on you with some new girl next week.”

“Dear,” May places a hand on her husband’s shoulder. She sees the way you shrink into yourself at the man’s words. The insecurity that he brings. She sees how her son’s eyes ignite with fury, she watches as he does whatever he can to put the flame out for her sake and your’s. “It’s Steve’s birthday today.”

“Is that why you insisted on coming home today?” Richard turns to her, she has his full attention now. His eyebrows are drawn together, annoyance paints his body. “You told me you had a board meeting tonight.” 

“Why don’t we talk about this upstairs?” May suggests, relieved that she’s turned her husband’s anger onto herself rather than her son. Richard sighs, but he doesn’t argue as he marches up the stairs without so much as a second glance towards you. When he’s gone, May smiles at you sympathetically. “I apologize for my husband’s behavior. We had a long flight, I’m sure he’s simply jetlagged.” 

“Yeah, that’s why he’s such an asshole.” Steve scoffs, tired of his mother’s excuses for her husband. He can be cruel to Steve, he doesn’t care. He’s been cruel to him his entire life. But if his father so much as breathes near you again, Steve will hurt him. 

Your hand reaches for Steve’s, sensing what he’s thinking. You return May’s smile, you’re not at all angry with her. “It’s okay, really. I was an unexpected guest, and I should go.”

Steve pulls you into his chest. “What, no–”

“You may leave, if you’d like.” His mother gently interrupts him. “Though I must admit, I really do wish to know you better. If you’d allow me to, that is.”

“I’d love that more than anything.”

“Then I will plan a dinner for the next time my husband and I are in town.” May tells you, admiring your honesty. She can see why Steve has become so infatuated with you. There’s nothing hidden within you; you wear your heart on your sleeve, your sincerity a welcomed rarity. She turns to her son, rests her palm delicately against his face. “Happy birthday, my beautiful boy.”

Steve leans into her touch, weak for his mother as any son is. You turn away, it doesn’t feel right to watch this moment between them. 

In the car Steve profusely apologizes for his father’s behavior. Over and over again, he laments how sorry he is and that you’re more than just some fling to him. “You’re everything to me, angel. I love you so, so much.”

“I know, honey.” You grab his hand that rests against the stick shift. His father’s words had hurt, but you knew that they weren’t true. Steve is your’s, he has been for longer than either of you realize. Nothing will ever undo the love he has for you, the foundation of trust it was built upon. “You’re everything to me, too.”

When Steve pulls into your driveway, you tell him to park and come inside. His birthday gift is in your room. You had planned to give it to him later tonight, but his parents’ unexpected arrival had soured things. “I know you have to go home, but…”

“I’ll never say no to you.” Steve’s already unbuckling his seatbelt to follow you inside. He greets your mother with a kiss to her cheek, ruffles Dustin’s hair as he sits at the dining table doing homework. His movements are easy, leisurely. You notice now how at home he is in yours, far from the boy who cowered before his father only twenty minutes ago. The realization is bittersweet. He deserves to feel at home in his own house, not just yours. 

Inside your room Steve sits on your bed and holds his hand out, eager. “Okay, wow me, Henderson.”

“You really know how to talk to a woman.” You tease him, rustling through your drawer to find the gift you’ve hidden. Steve is nosy, he’s been trying to find his gift for at least two weeks now. When you’ve found it, you clutch the gift in your hand and hold it behind your back. “Alright, you know the drill by now. Close your eyes.”

Steve complies with a smirk, biting back suggestive comments. He loves this tradition with you, making the other close their eyes before their gift. Something light is placed in Steve’s hand. It’s circular, sturdy. He thinks he can smell leather.

“Okay, open.”

In his hand is a bracelet. It’s a simple strip of leather, nothing embellishes it besides a button to secure it. Though it’s plain, Steve can tell that it’s expensive. The leather is supple, its color is dark and polished. The silver button that clasps the two ends together is heavy.

He loves it, he does, but he can’t help feeling like that there must be something more to it.

As if reading his mind, you gently prompt Steve to turn it over in his hands. “Look what’s on the inside, honey.”

He does, and his heart stops.

The leather has been stamped. The word constants is spelled out across the length of the band. It’s a hidden message, only for Steve to know, and while he’s sure you have your own explanation for why you chose the word constants, he loves it already. “Oh.”

You sit next to him and laugh softly. “You’re my constant, Steve. Everything in my life has changed, or will change, but you… You’ve always been there, I know you’ll always be there. With me. My love, my lucky charm, my constant.”

Tears well in Steve’s eyes. He doesn’t bother wiping them away, too busy admiring the bracelet in his hand. He can’t believe you’re real, that you’ve thought of this for him. That you see a future with him… It’s everything he could’ve asked for. A security he’s always longed to have. His entire life he’s been told he’s too much, too overwhelming, and yet you want him to stay anyways. 

“And you’re my constant?” He asks you, fingers grazing over the letters again.

You nudge his shoulder with yours. “Well, I’d like to think that I am.”

He laughs, wet and full of love, and he can’t take it anymore. Steve throws his arms over you and you collapse into your bed, laughing together as he presses his lips wherever they can reach. 

“You are,” he says in between kisses. Your laughter lights him. “You’re my constant, too.”

–

The autumn leaves fall and the trees are barren as winter arrives. 

You spend winter break trying to maintain your promise to Joyce. After finishing the hell that was applying to college, you have so much unexpected free time that at first you don't know what to do. But then her words echo in your mind, the promise to live the life that you deserve, so you start doing things for yourself.

Slowly you read through all the books in your room that you hadn't had time for before. You start running again in the mornings, the winter air crisp in your lungs. You and Dustin do homework together at the kitchen table, making sure neither of you get left behind. You try new recipes to bake, delivering the treats to the ones you love. It’s nice, rediscovering the pleasures you once had long before the Upside Down came into your life. 

Christmas comes and you do your annual rounds, delivering everyone’s favorite treats on Christmas Eve. It’s during your run to the Sinclair home that Lucas asks you to come inside to talk. 

“What’s up?” You ask him, unwrapping your scarf and warming your hands in your sleeves. Lucas gestures to his kitchen table, silently asking you to sit. When you do, he takes a deep breath and joins you. 

Something’s bothering him. You can see it in the way he carries a weight on his shoulders. How they droop as he sits, exhausted. You reach across the table and grab his hand, offering whatever comfort you can give him. “Whatever it is, you can talk to me.”

“It’s…” Lucas purses his lips, his breath shakes. “It’s Max. I’m–I’m worried about her.”

He tells you everything. He tells you how distant she’s been, more than she’s ever been before. He tells you how she’s missed dates he’s planned for her, how she refuses to talk to him anymore. She hasn’t been to any of the party’s hangouts, Mike and Dustin haven’t seen her ever since winter break started.

Max has had bad days, weeks, even months since losing Billy. But she’s never had the bad days without at least one good day following. To break the monotonous cycle of self-loathing and grief and guilt. She would always come back, even if for a moment, alive and bright and reminiscent of the girl had been. 

“I can feel her slipping away,” Lucas looks down at the table. He’s afraid that if he looks at you then he’ll start crying. He doesn’t want you to worry, he knows how much you already deal with and do for them, but he’s terrified. “I know… I know that you helped Will, after he was flayed. Do you think you could maybe talk to Max? Just… Remind her that we’re here for her? I can’t–I can’t lose her.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you squeeze his hand in yours, trying to stem the stream of tears he fought so hard to force down. Lucas loves Max with everything within him. Anyone can see that. You’d do anything to bring the girl back to him, to bring her back to all of you. “I’ll talk to her.”

I’ll keep an eye on her. Watch her when you can’t. 

Lucas hears it. He exhales, nods his head.

You leave. Max was the next one on your list of deliveries anyways. 

It’s nearing dusk by the time you get to the trailer park. You haven’t seen Max’s new home, she’s only recently moved. She had been too embarrassed to tell anyone that her mother lost their old house. The only reason you even know she moved in the first place is because Lucas and Dustin stalked her walking home. 

A dog barks as you bike past. Snow has started to fall, tomorrow will be a white Christmas.

“Oh, hello, Y/N.” Susan Hargrove’s skin is pale, her eyes sunken in when she answers the door. Her voice is thin, her frame is strained. The death has been hard on her, too. Billy’s father leaving only made everything worse. 

“Hi, Mrs. Hargrove.”

The woman winces. “Please, Mayfield will be fine.”

You immediately correct yourself, apologetic and ashamed, when Max’s voice calls from within the home. “Just let Y/N in, mom.”

Susan sighs, and you wish you could do more. Instead, all you can offer her is the container of coconut bites you’ve made for them. Max told you they remind her and her mother of California, and you always make sure to have some ready every week for them. Offer some semblance of joy in the gray of their lives.

Max sits at the kitchen table. Her head is down as she works on something. She has her walkman next to her. Susan leaves the two of you alone, excusing herself to go lay down after a long shift. 

You sit next to the girl and take a deep breath. This won’t be easy. Max is prideful, stubbornly independent, and has never accepted sympathy from anyone. You’ve always admired her fiery personality, but the fire has dimmed and the smoke is beginning to choke her. Talking to her will be like pulling teeth out. 

“Brought you your favorites.” You shake the container in your hands. It serves as a peace offering, almost a bribe to start the conversation. 

“Thanks.” Max doesn’t look up. 

You swallow, tuck your hair behind your ears. “Of course. I was doing my usual delivery rounds. I, uh. Stopped at the Sinclair’s.”

The pencil in Max’s hand freezes. Her knuckles tighten, though the shift is subtle. She’s always been too smart for her own good. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Erica likes my brownies. Mrs. Sinclair, too.”

“And Lucas?” She knows why you’re here.

“I made him chocolate chip cookies. You know how much he loves them.” Max doesn’t respond. Of course she knows how much Lucas enjoys chocolate chip cookies. She knows everything about him, but she doesn’t say anything and goes back to writing. Faintly you hear music coming from the walkman. You point at the device. “New song?”

“Kate Bush.”

“Oh.” This is going worse than you imagined. “Look, Max–”

She doesn’t waste any time. “I know Lucas sent you. I don’t care.”

“He’s just worried about you, we all are–”

“I’m fine.” The tip of the pencil snaps. “Shit.”

“Max.” You’re pleading with her to listen. Her skin is fluorescent now, paler than you’ve ever seen. The bags underneath her eyes are swollen, dark and ghostly. She’s lost weight. You can’t remember the last time you saw her eat. “Please.”

“What do you want me to do?” Though there’s anger in her voice, Max’s eyes plead with you, too. Her mask slips for just a moment, but you see it. Underneath her indifferent exterior, she’s just as terrified as everyone else is. She can feel herself fading, the guilt of Billy’s death slowly eats her alive. She doesn’t know what to do, though. How do you continue to live after death has infiltrated your home?

The chair beneath you scraps against the hardwood floor. You stand up, walk over to Max and kneel in front of her. You keep your movements slow, worried you’ll scare her away if you get too close too suddenly. “I think you should talk to someone, honey.”

Max turns away. She can’t. If she told anyone what goes on inside her head, they would never forgive her. You would never forgive her, and it would break her. 

Your hand falls to Max’s knee. The warmth from your palm combats the ice in her veins. You’re looking at her as if she’s worth something. As if she didn’t wish for her brother’s death. As if she hadn’t sent a grieving father into a spiral, a desperate mother into a trailer park. But Max allows your touch, so you try to get through to her again.

“You know, I was actually talking to Ms. Kelly a few weeks ago. The school’s guidance counselor.” She had met with you to discuss your grades and college options. When she had seen how you picked your nails until they bled, she suggested seeing her every few weeks. Alleviate some of your never ending stress. You had denied, uncomfortable with the idea. But maybe she could help Max. “She seemed nice enough. I’m sure she would be open to talking with you.”

“I don’t want to see some shrink.”

“Hey, I want to work with kids your age someday. Don’t call future me a shrink.” You poke Max’s leg playfully, and the corners of her mouth twitch. She doesn’t want you to see that it’s working. “C’mon. Have at least one meeting with her. When winter break ends, all I ask is that you try. For me and Lucas. We’re your favorites, after all.”

“If I agree, will it get you to shut up?”

You’re fine with this. It isn’t ideal, you aren’t sure Max will even actually try to open up to Ms. Kelly, but it’s a start. For too long now you’ve stayed silent, allowing Max to grieve on her own. Grief is hard, it takes and it takes and it takes. Yet it’s been almost six months and you’re not sure how much left grief can take from Max. “I think I can be okay with that.”

You’ll take whatever you can get. You’re worried. You got too caught up in your own life, you had gotten lost in your own haze of grief and anxiety. Missing Jonathan, grappling with change and growing up as you applied to college. You weren’t there for Max like you should’ve been.

But you’ll fix this. You always fix things. It’s what you do. It’s what you have to do. It’s how you love; you take care of those around you.

And who are you if you can’t?

–

Jonathan calls you high for the first time in late January. 

Though he doesn’t tell you that he’s high, you know. His words are slurred, slowed, incomprehensible. It’s late in California, even later in Indiana, and the stark feeling of guilt slices into your ribcage the same way the Demodog’s claw did. The feeling cuts deep into your skin, nicks your bone. 

“Jonathan?” You hope your voice brings him back to you. You try to cut through the smoke that fills his mind, that leaves him stumbling over his words. “Bee, can you hear me?”

“‘M here.” Jonathan sniffs, smacks his lips, yawns. “Where’re you? Can’t find you, bug.”

You close your eyes. He’s looking for you, and you aren’t with him. “I’m in Hawkins.”

“Thas’ far.”

“Yeah,” you choke out a laugh. It constricts in your vocal chords, but you can’t let Jonathan know how much it hurts to hear him so disoriented. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay. California sucks.” He hiccups, you’re surprised he’s managed to call you tonight. Even in his drugged up state, he still somehow remembered to call. “Don’t think Nance will like it.”

He’s referring to the spring break trip. Nancy told you about it earlier today, how she and Mike will spend the week in California to see Jonathan and El. She had been a bit hesitant to tell you, afraid you’d be upset for not being invited, but you reassured her that it was okay. 

You’ve had a road trip planned with Jonathan ever since you were fifteen. The moment the two of you graduate, you’ll drive all across the country for one final adventure before college. 

Nancy can have spring. Summer will be yours. 

“She’ll love California because you’re there.” She talked about the trip nonstop today. Her glow had come back, momentarily, her eyes alight. She truly loves Jonathan, she misses him even more than you do. 

“Only disappoint her.”

“What do you mean?” You’re not sure where this is coming from. You know Jonathan is high, that his thoughts may not be coherent, but he sounds distressed about Nancy. You thought things had been good between them. They were planning a future together. 

“Is’ hard, with her.” Jonathan manages to get out, but his speech is becoming harder and harder to understand.

You frown. “What’s hard, bee?”

The line disconnects. Jonathan doesn’t bring the conversation up again, the next time you call. You don’t ask him what he meant. You don’t think you want to know. There had been something deeper behind his words.

Will calls you a few days later in tears. The kids are meaner in California than they are in Hawkins. They tease El, make her life hell, and he’s upset that he can’t do anything to stop it. He cries to you, his tears soak your face through the landline, and the guilt creeps back in. 

It will never truly leave.

You do your best to console him, offer him advice, but that’s all you can do. All you have are your words. Will and El are hours away, hundreds of miles separate them from you. It's nauseating, feeling so useless. For as long as you’ve known Will, you’ve always been able to protect him. To help him, dry his eyes.

You’ve always been there for your boys, for Jonathan and Will. For El. But you can’t get to them, they’re too far away, and it kills you. You’re sixteen again, trapped in Jonathan’s car and frantically trying to keep yourself together as everything around you falls apart. 

Steve becomes your lifeline. 

He always answers when you call. Every time Jonathan, high and lonely, hangs up your conversations, you call Steve. He answers, he hears the exhaustion in your voice, and he always sneaks in through your window later that night. He knows it’s the only way you’re able to sleep these days.

He sings to you when you wake up from a nightmare. They’ve become about Max, losing her. She’s only met with Ms. Kelly a few times, but you can tell that she already wants to stop. That you’re pushing her too far, pushing her away from you and everyone else. 

Steve takes you for drives when you get blisters from pacing your room, anxiously waiting for your college decision letters to come in. Soon your entire life will be decided for you by one single piece of paper. 

Two weeks before spring break, Jonathan calls you. He’s sober.

You can’t remember the last time you’ve spoken to him sober. The thought alone depresses you, makes you yearn for childhood again.

“I think Nancy wants me to come to Hawkins,” he tells you. “Would you… would you like that?”

More than anything.

You press the phone against your ear and imagine that it’s Jonathan’s hand instead. Your skin hasn’t forgotten how his felt against it. “Of course I want you to come to Hawkins, bee.” But it can’t be that easy, you know nothing ever comes easily. “Can you afford it, though? I–I mean, God. I miss you, you know that, but I know it’s been hard for your family these last few years.”

Jonathan’s head falls back against the wall behind him. You always understand. He hates it, sometimes. “It’s worth looking into if it means I get to see you and Nance.”

There’s an air of authority in Jonathan’s voice, as if he truly believes what he’s saying, and it surprises you. He’s taking initiative after months of floating away. Hope sparks within you, the cold hand of dread lessens its grip around your neck. 

“Well, I can’t argue with that logic.” You say. Jonathan laughs, you’ve missed the sound. It’s been so long since you last heard it. 

Conversation drifts after that. You tell him about the latest Spider-Man arc you’re reading, he inserts his own opinions, and it’s lovely. You haven’t had Jonathan like this in months, all to yourself, his smile aligned with yours. Sober, steady. 

The phone call with Jonathan reminds you of all the good that is still yet to come. 

College decision letters arrive next week. Your best friend might be visiting for spring break. Your boyfriend has planned a picnic for your anniversary tomorrow. You have your first meeting with Ms. Kelly the following day. It was your idea, figuring it was only fair that you see her since Max has agreed to keep going. 

And Joyce made you promise that you’d live your own life. You’re trying to get better, you really are. 

It just takes time. 

-

⌑ series masterlist

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[simplyreveries]

just saw that requests are open 🗣️🗣️

I already asked this for housewardens, but can you maaayyyybbeeeee do the rest of the dorms with s/o who’s like their movies princess

yes!!<3

trey clover

he finds it endearing with your curiosity, you always seem to be coming to him with questions upon questions about twisted wonderland. he sometimes forgets that this is all so new to you, whereas he has been used to this world his whole life. he chuckles in amusement and does gently advise you when dealing with certain people or things regarding this world. he wants to look out for you— you can’t help but make trey worry sometimes!

whenever you tend to get stubborn and talk back to others, such as riddle (who is equally as stubborn) you two get along but yet butt heads quite often with your attitudes. trey seems to make himself the mediator between you two, he shakes his head playfully and teases that you're too troublesome.

finds it flattering, but honestly a little difficult to concentrate whenever you’re around— only because you’re so impressed of such simple magic and things he can do naturally. when he absentmindedly uses it for cooking in such your wows and awes make him laugh, he’ll tell you he feels nervous though when it seems like he has an audience now haha.

ruggie bucchi

no because you genuinely made him nervous... when he had met you, he was expecting you to be some easy target or someone he thought he might try to get some madol out of... he was wrong. at first, he knew at that point you weren’t someone easily to be messed with in such a way. he eventually did grow a huge amount of respect for that.

ruggie snickers and laughs whenever you get confrontational with any sort of bothersome savanaclaw students or even leona— (surprisingly he doesn’t seem to respond much to that, he seems to back down around you as well). he enjoys how willingly you get into the face of others. whereas he's sneakier and unconfrontational you're pretty much the opposite here. he never seems worried about you though when it comes to that, he finds it amusing.

you two often get into playful banter with each other all the time- witty remarks and teasing. he loves it, there has been a few times you've managed to make him flustered.

jade leech

he truly thinks you're too innocent. too easily swayed, he finds it oh so endearing. not to mention, your fascination of this world makes him laugh. especially whenever you decide to approach him inquiring him about plants, animals, things he may have seen as he's always seeming to be out hiking in the woods and mountains that are near the school.

jade enjoys sharing what he knows- but he is able to give you more information about the coral sea since that's what he's known for most of his life. he suggests the idea of you visiting there sometime on your own accord. instead of when you were tangled into that deal with azul, he'd tease. he remembers the curiosity and awe as you went to the museum there.

your knack for collecting items is endearing to him, if there's a chance he's ever out somewhere- like a gift shop in another country, he makes sure to get something for you. he chuckles pleased when he sees the excited look on your face and rambling.

jamil viper

he admires and honestly even relates to your own personal desires of independence and exploring. jamil has always wanted to travel and see the world,, he tells you often that he wants you to come with him to not only his homeland but other places he was interested in and thinks you'll enjoy too. ever since chapter 4 he has been able to get some more space- and he wants to do that with you.

though he is used to kalim, being such a kinder person a school like this, he thinks you should still be cautious because of the students around you. whenever you show acts of kindness, he gently reminds you about people like octavinelle exist...!

jamil huffs at your stubbornness sometimes, even though he really is no different than you. so even if he does get a little frustrated (mostly only out of worry for you) he can't help but laugh because you two are similar in such ways. he lets you win.

rook hunt

we've seen his liking to neige,,,, he is no different with you. he finds your optimism for such a situation you're in truly beautiful. he thinks your perseverance through the chaos you've been thrown into and willingness to fix ramshackle up a little to be a bit homier was cute even.

rook has a habit always watching out for you. he can't help but feel some sense of wanting to protect when it comes to you. even though he can't help but already be around you all the time with how overly loving he is.

he easily developed such a fascination to you, he always found you somehow throughout the day. he adores your voice; he thinks it's the loveliest thing he's heard. he constantly comes out of nowhere- surprising you tell you how beautiful you sounded to him. rook claims he could listen to it all day and knowing him, he's not exaggerating.

lilia vanrouge

he doesn't show it in the most obvious way, it tends to come off more playful- but lilia does have a sense of protectiveness over you like malleus would. like i said though, he could easily play it off and twist it into him just finding you and popping up bizarrely from some ceiling, greeting you sweetly. he does seem to always have an eye on you. he thinks you're too good of a soul for a school like this sometimes.

finds your daydreamy and hopeful demeanor so,,, sweet. he is giggling as you tell him your hopes and ideas for your future. lilia tells you he'll make them happen. knowing what he's capable of.... he means it.

he'll grin and playfully twirl you to make you laugh - when he catches you off in your own world. he doesn't seem to really snap you out when you're off in your own world. he just watches you smitten; he laughs if you notice him staring and wouldn't deny it.

[crezz-star]

Why Luffy is highly attached to Zoro and why Zoro is highly attached to Luffy, and why the straw hats is aware of this and accepts it.

(some rare rambles of Mine. This is based on my own character studies and observations. COPY PASTED FROM MY X [twitter] )

-------

👒

Firstly, we have to look at how Luffy grew up.

Luffy was given to Dadan by Garp, told her to take care of him. While Dadan introduced Luffy

to Ace and Ace at first was not very... Friendly. And I will not sugarcoat it, Ace did not care about Luffy as first and went through dangerous places that could have killed Luffy, and Ace again, shows how he did not care if that happened. Yet, just like with Shanks, Luffy was doing his best for Ace to accept him and let him join him.

It was always Luffy who was making an effort chasing after people he admires and began to care for, but was always getting denied.

And so being left alone.

Yes, Ace did accept him but not after Ace mentioned, along with Sabo that they should kill him first.

Luffy, being so young back then, and impressionable even, now have it engraved in his mind that if he isn't useful, he will never be accepted by anyone or anywhere.

And so, its become a fear in Luffy deep down, a fear he would push far back in his mind. But would reflect in his actions when he grows up and finds his crew. Luffy is afraid to be useless and abandoned by people he shows interest and care for. Which is why he gets possessive of what is his. That when anyone shows desire to leave, he gets upset and emotional and... angry. That he doesn't want anyone to leave, doesn't allow anyone to leave. And if they still do leave. It deals a blow to his emotional and mental state. He becomes irrational to the point that to bring the person back, he will let himself be walked on like a doormat.

That's where Zoro comes in.

Luffy first heard Zoro's name and immediately felt intrigued. And when he finally met Zoro, who was in obvious predicament, Luffy was hooked especially knowing that Zoro was a good person, and decided that ah. He wanted this man to be in his crew. So being the typical Luffy to do all he can to gain favor towards people he shows clear interest in, he tells Zoro, if I bring back your swords, you WILL join my crew. Because in his mind, if he's useful, people would accept him then! He was sure of it. Since that's how it was with him growing up.

Zoro would find this odd. Even calling Luffy the son of a demon because of how messed up his thinking is. But I think this would be the start of Zoro's observation of Luffy and how Luffy would need someone to correct him in his thinking and actions later on.

So Zoro joins Luffy not just because he freed him and gave his swords back, but because of the strength Luffy showed. One that Zoro acknowledged and respected.

Luffy gaining his first mate would then start to make Luffy be unconsciously more aware of how his crew acts and he would notice how Zoro, unlike everyone else in his life, got his back the most

Zoro chooses to follow him of his own accord. And this would get even more evident when: Nami, betrays Luffy and Zoro told him they should just let her be. Luffy insisted of course, but it shows Zoro's protectiveness of his captain. Sanji favoring Nami and making it almost seem that his reason of joining was her, (this was cleared up later in the crew barrel vows of course), still Zoro did not like him any better as he still thinks Sanji would most likely value women more than their captain.

Usopp leaving the crew and even challenging Luffy for a duel to be captain, which is a huge disrespect to Luffy. Yet Luffy was about to accept him with open arms again as if nothing happened. That's why Zoro stepped in to keep him in check.

This was one of the important moments

Luffy sees how Zoro really truly have his back. Zoro always returning to his side no matter how many times they got separated throughout their adventures. Zoro taking care of his crew, that of which Luffy all recruited himself (Zoro did not trust them all too easily), and now, + 

Zoro giving Luffy a hard life lesson to be a good captain.

Zoro really was looking out for him. So much. Sticking by him all these times no matter how many times his Life got put to danger.

That's why when Zoro mentioned if he fails as a captain, it will be him who will leave, Luffy would panic at the thought and was enough to make Luffy listen and stop desperately chasing after a crew who disrespected him.

Not Zoro. He doesn't want Zoro of all people to leave him.

So Luffy listens. Reflects. Learns how to be a better captain.

but I think one of the most important moment Luffy saw how Zoro will never leave him , like everyone else he cared for in his life did, was when Zoro made his vow to him in Baratie.

That's when he knew, Zoro will not betray him. Will never leave him. That's when he knew, he can trust Zoro with his life and his future crew. He knew Zoro would keep everyone safe.

Luffy felt like he doesn't have to chase after Zoro so terribly desperately the way he did with Shanks or Ace. For the first time in his life, someone CHOSE to stay by his side. Vowed to stay by his side.

It made Luffy happy. Glad. Acknowledged. For some it would seem like the vow was someone serving Luffy. But in Luffy's mind, Zoro made that vow, not because of a master and servant thing, it was because they would be partners, equals in chasing after their dreams. Someone Luffy can face the world with. Give and take.

And this is why Luffy is so attached to Zoro. Because he knows Zoro will never leave him. Zoro will never betray him like what the others did (even if they had their own reasons). Because Zoro chose to be by his side. To be his anchor. His voice of reason when he's washed over with irrational emotions. Why he listens to Zoro the most, becoming silent to listen close to every word that Zoro would say.

Zoro takes care of him and the crew and family Luffy had built.

Zoro stayed and choose to keep staying and returning to him, and because of this, because of Zoro, Luffy learned that he doesn't have to chase after anyone again. That if people wants to stay, they would. That if people wants to stay, they should be the one to ask Luffy. To tell him. To beg him. Because Zoro knows and sees that Luffy is a person worth following and being loyal to.

---

⚔

Now on to why Zoro is attached to Luffy.

I would be lying when I deny the idea of Zoro seeing some parts of Kuina's personality with Luffy.

Kuina did her best to get stronger and prove herself as a great swordsman despite being female, because Kuina believes that, just because she's female, she was weak. Unless she works hard, but still she still have such thoughts buried in the back of her mind. This is why she desperately pushes herself so much. To make people acknowledge her for her own skills and efforts, because she's afraid to be disregarded, left behind. To be not be taken seriously. To be useless.

Who else have this unspoken desperation to be acknowledged and fear of being useless?

Luffy.

Zoro most likely saw the similar personality traits, and seeing how Kuina is important to Zoro, how their shared dream is what pushes him forward, it may have helped him to somewhat lower his guard, even a bit slightly, towards this funny rubber boy.

Humoring him by joining his crew. And eventually, Zoro being able to see the strength Luffy has, and if there's anything that would gain Zoro's favor and respect? It's strength and heart.

Reason why despite seeing him as his enemy, Zoro respects Mihawk, and even the opponents he had hard time defeating.

And towards Luffy, Zoro sees that endless pool of potential And power.

Making him accept Luffy more and more, not just as his captain or the person he dedicates his loyalty to, but as his equal. Just like he did once with Kuina.

He saw her not just as his goal, but also as his equal.

Zoro's treatment and view of Luffy as a simple naïve pirate became something more and was solidified when he saw how Luffy truly valued his dreams at Baratie. How Luffy took it very seriously even knowing that Zoro might die. Zoro took that as full serious acknowledgement and felt that Luffy DID respect him. That Luffy was serious after all.

The way Luffy stopped Johnny and Yosaku from interfering in Zoro's fight Gained tons respect from Zoro. Because that dream of his, isn't just his. It was Kuina's too, and Zoro felt as if through that, Luffy respected Kuina's dream too, Why Zoro was thankful to Luffy. That's why Zoro began to follow Luffy. Because he knows, if anyone can help him accomplish his dream, a dream he shares with his old childhood friend, If anyone can help him reach his goal, it would be Luffy. His dream is safe with him.

Along the way, Zoro would also see how Luffy is reckless. That his kind - and at certain times naive - heart was also going to be his downfall, that's why Zoro keeps Luffy in check, at first Zoro was doing all of his caring for Luffy as means to reach his goal, but spending time with him and understanding him, Zoro saw something more about Luffy, saw his potential quality for greatness and Zoro wants to.. NEEDS to see it.

The way Luffy carries burdens of others and liberates them.

It's something Zoro finds not just as something respectful, but something he admires.

With Luffy by his side, everything and anything feels possible.

That's why as early on as Alabasta, Zoro had already developed a desire to make Luffy's dream, one of his own, his new dream. But still prefer to keep quiet about it when someone asks.

Zoro's attachment to Luffy started as something reminding him of a long passed friend, but as time passed, began to see and understand Luffy more, seeing him as a person/captain worth following, and as well as his most trusted best friend.

Which is why Zoro will do everything he can to help Luffy. Protect what's his and what he built. Help Luffy in reaching his goal, crowning him as king of the pirates, by making Luffy's dream part of his, and is also now his priority as well.

Now on to why the straw hats accepts this.

They all have their own mistakes and majority of the crew, Nami, Usopp, Sanji and Robin, all 'betrayed' Luffy. I say that with a quotation because they all had their reasons. I'm well aware they really didn't do it wholeheartedly and they were just.... In a certain predicament or internal turmoil

They know how Zoro would do everything he could to protect Luffy. How amongst all the older og crew, Zoro was the ONLY one who never even dared to betray Luffy at all. Not even having thoughts about it. That Zoro was EXTREMELY loyal and protective of their captain. Making Luffy favor Zoro the most even if he doesn't notice it himself.

They can see how Zoro and Luffy once at each other's side, can be immersed in their own little world. How when they fight, the silent looks they give one was enough for each other to know what they were planning.

The crew sees this and accepts this. Because deep inside, they have their own guilts. Except perhaps for Franky , Brook and Jinbei but those three are the mature types to already accept that what level of bond that Zoro and Luffy has, None of them can EVER have nor break.

Thus the whole strawhats understands this.

Understands that Zoro and Luffy is inseparable. Is attached at the hip and that's okay. Because they have their whole faith in them, as captain and vice captain. They trust them with their life. Especially with how Luffy gave them a home and Zoro protecting them.

How both Zoro and Luffy would agree to save them

Strawhats is their family and Zoro and Luffy are the protectors of the family

Luffy, the savior and liberator.

Zoro the guardian and protector 

[jellitchi]

varigo lovely night animatic

i made this in a sickly haze.... i uploaded her to youtube as well feel free to check it out. under the cut is a Huge Ramble abt sum context / what happens In My Mind... also their Fancy ballroom fits n whatever

yk how theres a ball/fancy party or smth? yeah i needed stupid designs so i cranked these out might return and color them but i basically based varian n hugos design off of these just dressed down...

Anyways.

uhm i might write a Whole fic abt this with Oomf but uhm.

this takes place during the events of vat7k about a year after varian initially left, he returns to corona w his friends to find the library and rapunzel and eugene throw him a surprise birthday party. and in true disney character fashion, something horrible happens on his birthday. the gang gets caught witnessing / overhearing plans to assassinate the princess tonight. or maybe its gonna b a murder mystery party gone awry- havent decided. the group splits into two groups, the detectives and the protectors. yong and nuru are the detectives, theyre looking for evidence they can use to prove this has been planned for a long time. hugo n varian r tasked w making sure rapz n eugene done die sum horrible death as they hang out at the party. did i mention the party is The royal ball. so everyone is in stuffy/fancypants fits.

the whole running gag was gonna b rapunzel and eugene having like fifty near death experiences n its always like, Unknowingly. and hugo and varian r stressed out of their mind.

the reason varian n hugo r on Protector duty is coz theyre like Uhm. we're better at Improvising stuff. We can curve this and try n get the Killer to mess up and leave a trail for nuru n yong to go after.

anyways this animatic takes place a bit after like fifty attempts (cartoon ass flower pot almost crashes on their head, they watch someone spike their drinks and hugo runs over and drinks them both followed by an antidote varian just made, they walk through an archway and just barely miss the guillotine positioned above their head okay you get it just Silly cartoonish methods of assassination)

A Lovely Night takes place after Most of that so theyre very tired, the two get locked onto a balcony and r forced to kinda js Watch rapz n eugene hang out. varian takes a seat n is trying to sleuth out whos tryna kill his sister, he has an imaginary cork board w strings. hugo is kinda like "mann theyre kinda cute tgt. see two ppl locked on a balcony alone under the night sky would consider this romantic, goggles." n then Lovely Night!

uhm and the afterwards i think theres a figure approaching eugene and rapunzel so the two literally make a makeshift rope and throw themselves down the balcony to save them but boom they played into the assassinators plan! they were tired of varian and hugo getting in the way so they were js gonna kill em too. n then this is when rapunzel n eugene step in, n save them yeah and then they tell them everything and all is well and good and the assassins r behind bars...! Segment end....

[ninyard]

Heyy! You said someone should ask you about Kevin under this post about Kevin's struggles from the nest of which we don't know enough... So I'm asking you about Kevin! Please tell us your Kevin thoughts! You always make very good points and I like reading your thoughts!!

cody my friend I am so glad you asked but you might regret it. i hope you're prepared from an unorganised huge convoluted MESS of a ramble

i've been thinking for a few days about this one like... what would a kevin POV look like? what is he hiding? how does he cope? WHO IS HE?

the kevin we ""know"" is a "coward", an insufferable bitch, an asshole and a hardass. other people's opinions and view of him makes up the entirety of our impression of who he is. but that's not who he is. that's just who we're supposed to believe he is.

kevin, born and bred to have this... borderline psychopathic lack of empathy, who can look his teammates in the eye after being told seth is dead or andrew is being committed and say, "what about the game?"

but when the raven's are switching districts; his sense of danger and fear is paralysing. he's three steps ahead trying to figure out how to please riko, how to keep himself safe, willing to put himself back into the centre of his abuse just to stop riko from finding him and killing him. he has to get blackout drunk to deal with any amount of riko. he's frozen with fear by being in the same room as him.

kevin knows where jean's mind and body goes to when hes panicking, knowing his worst place is right back in the nest being drowned by riko. kevin telling neil "do you know what he'll do to you?" and "he'll break you" when neil asks for his ticket. kevin's text to him before he goes into the nest, and staring at neil like he'd seen a ghost when neil returns after the nest (when he looks like the butcher). his comforting "i know what he's like" or "i know how he sees you, i know it means he did not hold back,".

kevin nervous breakdown panic attack day vs kevin smile for the cameras one track exy mind day

im so intrigued by him. how does he cope? his mother is dead, probably killed by the mafia family he was raised by. he grew up into a cult, he was only a child watching neil's father cut a man into pieces in front of him. how many other's had he seen?

how many other injuries cover his body, in places where the cameras can't see? how many rapes and assaults was he forced to watch in the nest? how many beatings was he forced to participate in? what did he have to say to jean in french that he didn't want riko to hear?

he needs someone with him all the time because of the nest. he's a "health freak" because of the nest. his sleep schedule, his anger, his anxiety.

did he say "what about the season?" re: andrew after drake because he doesn't care, or did he think "i've seen this happen too many times. and they've always kept playing,"? did he think "andrew is the strongest person i know. andrew is stronger than me. he would never let this destroy him," knowing that it has?

nobody has protected him in his life apart from the cameras and andrew.

he's scared. he doesn't know what love is supposed to look like.

he's only been a human for a year.

his scars are healing for the first time in his life and they're not being replaced by new ones, but every day he's afraid that that's going to get ripped out from underneath him. his entire life already got flipped upside down when he left the nest. of course exy is the only thing he "cares" about.

because it's the only thing that's been certain in his life, and even for those few weeks or months where he thought he would never play again, he trained and trained, and learned how to use his non-dominant hand because he can't lose this. he can't lose exy like he's lost everything else.

kevin has never had anything stable in his life except for violence and exy. now he has people he's supposed to care about, and he has to change his priorities. he has to learn how live a life that isn't fueled by self-preservation for the first time ever.

jean was only in the nest for five years; and look at him. look at what the nest has done to his social skills, his view of himself, his self esteem. look at what it's done to him, how he expects violence and contrition, coach and always waiting and waiting and waiting for the punishment to come.

kevin might not have had the same level of physical abuse that jean had, but he was there far longer. the ravens existed before him; their mindset and their abuse and their violence and their poison.

he's been drinking the raven poison since his childhood. the only difference between him and jean other than those things above is that kevin had more pressure to hide it, because he was half of the face of the ravens, half of the face of Exy; media trained or PR trained or a master at being a fraud and faking the way he speaks when he's being recorded.

kevin knows how to hide his abuse because he has always had to, and he's had quite a lot of practice at it.

kevin has only been a human for a year. kevin has only been kevin for a year.

so who is he? does he even know?

or is he just Kevin Day, Raven Fox starting striker, number two, six foot two, left handed right handed left handed, heavy racquet, stick size five? is that all he will ever see himself as?

anyways. or something like that. maybe he is just an insufferable bitch for no reason at all. who knows!

[archermind]

sickness and soup

Spencer Reid x f!Reader

Description: You have called Hotch and told him you are unwell, making you unable to come into work today. Soon after you ended the call, there was a knock at your front door… to your surprise it was Spencer. Spencer was tasked by Hotch with the role of making sure you get better.

Content: fluff, fluff, and more fluff!

Author Note: this is my first time having a go at doing this. If anyone has any suggestions or feedback, feel free to offer it to me. (pls i beg lol) i hope you enjoy <3

Working in the BAU can be pretty intense. Some of the main things I find difficult about my job are cases involving children, when the unsub is a sick and twisted psychopath and the worst of them all… calling my boss when I feel sick. I will be honest there is no easy way to call Aaron Hotchner and tell him you can’t make it to work. I would drag myself limbless and bloody into Quantico just to avoid having to tell Hotch “I can't make it in today, sorry!” 

After the long awkward phone call of having to explain to Hotch why I will be missing the day off work, I sat pondering if I was just a hypochondriac or better yet a baby to the familiar enemy of every woman, my period. I had been up through the night, hurling acidic bile up into the toilet bowl from the pain of womanhood tearing up my insides. Periods are a bitch. 

My phone pinged from the living room as I was brushing my teeth for what felt like the hundredth time. My feet plodded from the bathroom through to the living room. I smiled as I saw the notification on my phone. ‘Garcia<3’. I opened the message to be met by a photo of her eating soup. ‘Missing you girl!’. I smiled as I responded with my own photo of me sad pouting and sent her a message of ‘i wish i was there :(‘. 

I threw my phone onto the couch making my way to my room. I sighed as I approached the huge pile of recently washed laundry which was dumped on my designated, ‘I'm too lazy to put these away so I will just dump them here’ chair. I rummaged through the pile pulling out any oversized shirt and shorts I could find. Today has not gone how i anticipated, all i wanted was to miraculously be rid of pain and be sat at the round table hearing of the next kidnap, dismembering and murder. I groaned as I attempted to atleast make my bed but was met with a sharp pain in my lower abdomen. I gave up, throwing myself onto the bed like a child throwing a tantrum. 

Light knocks woke me from a deep sleep that I had no recollection of falling into. I quickly jumped up and made my way to my front door. I looked like a mess so when I opened my door to see Spencer Reid… if I didn't already feel like curling up in a ball and dying, I do now. Ever since joining the BAU i couldn’t help not develop a minor school girl like crush on him that only Penelope knows about. 

“Uh… Spencer.. Why are you here?” I questioned him, trying to hide my shameful appearance behind the door. I attempted a smile despite the shock I was in.

“Hotch told me i had to come check up on you but before i left Garcia told me to trust her and that this would make you feel… in her words ‘a hundred times better’” Spencer gave a warm smile as he forced a tub of soup towards me.

“Well it looks like there is enough for two. Would you like to maybe come and have some?” I asked him nervously as I shifted on my feet. 

He nodded as I opened the door wider to allow him to enter. I trailed behind him as he made his way to my living room sofa. I anxiously waited for him to say something to break the silence. It was unusual for Spencer to stay silent for this long. For as long as I have known Reid, it seemed he always had something on his mind that he was ready to ramble on about. 

“Erm.. you will have to mind the state of my apartment” I coughed as my mouth went dry from nerves, “i never really have guests and i haven't had a great morni-” i suddenly was cut off by Spencer as he started to ramble like i expected.

“Did you know that it only takes one droplet of contaminated air to catch an illness?” Reid cleared his throat before carrying on, “and i will be honest with you Y/N… i am not entirely sure why Hotch sent me because he knows i don't like germs”, i watched as he fidgeted with the buckles on his satchel bag. 

My mouth formed an ‘o’ as I realized Hotch didn’t tell him why I was actually not at work today. I started laughing, causing Spencer to avert his eyes to stare at me. Internally I felt bad but I couldn't help but find the poor boy sitting worried on my sofa humorous for his own unknowing. 

“Y/N, i’m being serious. It is not funny. Did you know most serious diseases are caused by airborne illnesses!” Spencer blurted out upset and confused.

“Spence… I'm not contagious." I started, as he gave me a confused look “i am ill from having really bad period pains” I announced as I hung my head in shame having to tell Spencer of all people that currently I am menstruating. Even though it is a natural human thing and I can't control it. 

To my surprise, Spencer stood up and walked towards me engulfing me in a hug. I found it weirdly unexpected. I half anticipated Spencer to run out the door and for the hills at the thought of me… bleeding. However, I found myself comforted by the warm hug. I was still so confused.

“I apologize Y/N if i made you feel horrible by technically categorizing you as contagious and disease-ridden” Spencer started chuckling as his chin rested atop of my head. I smiled at his apology. Although he never made me feel insulted, it was sweet to know he cared about my feelings enough to apologize if there was a misunderstanding. 

I walked into my bathroom, the room was dark but drowned in ambient orange candle lighting. The bath was full of bubbles and the steam from the hot water engulfed the room, inviting me in. Spencer had done all of this while I was finishing my leek and mushroom soup. Although it sounded disgusting, I found myself texting Penelope begging her for the recipe. The response was almost better than the soup ‘a chef never spills her secrets but for you my lovely… ofcourse’ i hummed gleefully as I placed the phone on the counter of my bathroom sink. I tore every item of clothing off and made my way to the calming bath. I settled myself within the bubbles as i leant back to rest my head and close my eyes. It was relaxing and just what I had needed. 

Time passed delicately, but soon enough the water lost its comforting warmth and my fingers' skin was being over-dramatic, wrinkling like I had been within the water for eighty years. As I stepped out of the bathtub, a faint knock was sounded from the door. 

“Are you okay Y/N?” Spencer shouted from behind the locked door sounding worried. 

“Yeah, I'm fine Spence.” i responded smiling at his caring nature

“Just checking because on average about 10 people die each day from unintentional drowning in swimming pools and bathtubs” Spencer rambled and I smiled in adoration, while I got dressed, that it always goes back to statistics with him. 

I opened the door and smiled at him. “Don’t worry, I'm not about to become a statistic today”. 

Spencer returned the warm smile before guiding me back to my living room. I gasped at the sight. Spencer had set up a blanket and some pillows on the sofa. While also supplying me a heating pad, chips and chocolate. I turned to him and placed a hand over my open mouth. 

“Thank you spence!” I wrapped my arms around him tight and placed my head on his chest. I couldn't believe how thoughtful and understanding he had been. “This means alot you know.” I spoke muffled. 

“You deserve it Y/N, you are one of the most caring and thoughtful people I know at the BAU. i don't think you realize how much we appreciate you sometimes” Reid explained, “ or how much your company and thoughtfulness means to me Y/N”. 

I looked up to see Spencer turn a deep shade of crimson as he blushed. I smirked as I didn't know he even had it in him to hug a girl let alone compliment one. I had a small sense of happiness, boastfulness and achievement that that girl was me. The rest of the day, Spencer stayed to watch movies, talk and keep me company. That was until we both fell asleep… wrapped in a blanket… in each other's arms.

[holy-reference-in-a-username]

if you have paid any attention to my ramblings on my process, you know that i tend to rethink my comics and toss out a lot of work if im not satisfied with how it turned out. so i thought id share some previews of comics that have gone unseen, and why they havent been posted (yet?) in order of how likely i am to finish and/or post them :)

(under cut bc long post)

Be nice to each other: Main 4. Tomtord/Polyworld, angst. 4 pages. Matt confronts Tom and Tord on how have been acting, accidentally compelling them into saying how they really feel.

Status: abandoned.

I drew this one quite a while ago and i still really like the dialogue and character interactions i wrote for it! vampire hypnosis is a super cool concept and im definitely going to use it in the future, but this ultimately didnt pan out how i wanted it to.

Why it's not posted: while the buildup and climax are really good, this would be a huge mess to clean up. this would require some serious work both between the four of them and on my part for writing and drawing all of that!! plus, it would totally change the relationship dynamic between Tom and Tord, possibly ending it altogether (and i still have so much i want to do with them!!!)

Ed and Edd: Eduardo, Edd, Eduardo's mother. No pairings, angst. 3 pages. Eduardo can't wait to introduce himself at school, but he's got competition for the name he chose.

Status: abandoned.

Trans Eduardo is such a good concept. imagine figuring out who you are only to find out someone else already is that. of course you're going to hate them.

Why it's not posted: two main reasons. one is that i couldn't figure out how to end the comic (a recurring theme lol), but another is that i'm still not super confident with writing Eduardo yet. ...or writing children. so kid Eduardo is a challenge.

Can't tell where you're looking: Tommatt, fluff. 3 pages. Tom isn't as sneaky as he thinks he is.

Status: on my list!

Tommatt fans, i have heard your pleas i have received your asks. it's on my list.

Why it's not posted: i had a great idea, drew several pages, thought about it, and decided it sucked, actually. it can be reworked, but my motivation did not get out unscathed.

Bad (?) Dream: Tomtord, uh.... yeah thats just smut huh. 2 pages. A bad dream for one and a good dream for the other.

Status: ???

I'm not saying SHIT.

Why it's not posted: originally, it was because i didn't want to post suggestive stuff on this blog. now, it's because i found better ways to cover the concepts in this comic. Y'all will simply have to wait and see ;)

Matt figures it out: Matt, Tom. could be Tommatt. hurt/comfort. a collection of random sketches. Matt figures out how to turn into a bat! It sucks!

Status: on my list!

I've been wanting to talk about this SOOOO BAD!!! because why would you transform in a second via a poof of smoke when it could be an hour-long painful disturbing process?! honestly could be described as hurt/comfort/hurt.

Why it isn't posted: well for one it barely counts as a comic, just random sketches and a general idea. to be fair thats how most of my comics start, but... you know. i havent worked on it in a while mainly because the characters need to solve some personal problems first.

Not tonight: Tordmatt. fluff/suggestive. 2 pages. Matt's got pointy ears again, and Tord knows what that means!

Status: on my list!

TORDMATT FANS I HAVE ALSO HEARD YOUR PLEAS! Also, yippee i get to infodump about my headcanons via a comic

Why it's not posted: unfinished, and i hit a bit of a road block. usually its in writing, but this time its in the art half! so i have no idea how to get around it yet!!!

Puberty sucks fr. imagine losing an eye: Tom, Tom's mother. no pairings. angst. 3 pages. When did Tom's eyes change?

Status: on my list!

You all remember the soul-crushing existential grief that started at the same time as puberty, right? No, just me? Huh.

Why it isn't posted: layout isn't quite what im looking for :/ also, a half-naked child on tumblr, even in a completely non-sexual context, is something i am slightly apprehensive about!

Something's wrong: Main 4. Polyworld, angst/suggestive. 20+ pages. Tom doesn't feel well. Edd, Matt, and Tord try to help.

Status: actively working on it

Oh, you guys remember that poll? Haha thats funny. Yeah i'm still working on this one.

Why it isn't posted: uh its not done yet. and also i am unsure of whether or not it will be allowed on tumblr. or whether or not i want people to speculate on my entire deal.

...and while i'm here:

Communication comic part 6: IN PROGRESS!! these idiots need to establish boundaries. all of them. i believe <3

Zombie Tord part 4: ON MY LIST! i want to get through the communication comic first :3

thank u for reading all my ramblings :D! i am so fucking excited to continue working on all of my dumb shit and i am so happy that ppl like said dumb shit

[sunfyresrider]

The Company Party

Aegon II Targaryen x Assistant!Fem!Reader

Summary: You’ve worked for your boss since you graduated college, and to say he was the best superior you’ve had would be an understatement. After a heated argument at a company event, you both discover some things about each other. Tags: Aegon is a childish rich boy, mutual pining but you’re both oblivious, jealous boy, arguing to eventual smut, p in v, cunnilingus, cringe after talk (pls hes too funny.) Author’s Note: this is just self-indulgent, 5am ramblings of an insane woman (me).

You’ve worked as Aegon Targaryen’s assistant for one year, one excruciatingly long year. You’ve spent more than 75% of your time following his every order like a dog. Unfortunately, you didn’t hate it all that much. It wasn’t like you had a social life you were missing by working. You had sorta become friends in a way or like a partner in crime minus the crime.

He was the perfect boss in a lot of ways. Aegon truly cared about his customers, or well you. There wasn’t a day he forced you to work late, you did that by choice. He always paid you more than he should, gave you more time off than he should and treated you better than other superior you had worked for previously. He also massaged your shoulders once when you said they hurt…

You should be used to it by now, little gestures of appreciation. He always pats you on the back if you impress him enough. He’ll compliment your hard work, your outfit, and sometimes he’ll completely paused in his steps to gaze at you and tell you that you had beautiful eyes. He tells you he’s grateful for you, you’re funny, you’re one of the nicest people he’s met… but it’s all platonic. A very disheartening fact of the matter.

Yet, while knowing this, every single time Aegon does anything you’re immediately turned into a blushing mess. An instant mood improver, a very minor turn on. Maybe it was because you haven’t gotten laid in a century and could be considered a born again virgin. Or maybe you were secretly falling in love with him and refused to admit it to yourself.

At some point you would have to face your feelings, not right now though. You were at a huge event for the company, the goal being to seek out new investors. You didn’t have to come considering he always does the majority of the talking but he also rarely goes anywhere without you. Aegon always needs an eyewitness, just in case.

The rooftop bar is extravagant, more so than what you’re used to. Maybe you should have opted for something other than a black dress with heels… rich people seem to appreciate modesty. Odd, considering they are the ones to buy the most hookers and cheat more frequently. You took your seat at the bar, deciding to drink away your boredom.

“Hey stranger,” the voice from your right caught you by surprise, you whipped your head around to glance at them. “Oh my god, Jacaerys?!” your mouth gaped open in shock. His smile stretched ear to ear, “It’s me, alright! What the hell are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you that! My boss has me tag along to all of these events.” You beamed, thinking of Aegon. It was good seeing a familiar face, you two used to date, briefly, in your second year of high school. Though, he had long since grown out of his awkward stage and was fully matured with a sharp jawline to prove it. “I work for the company running this event. It’s kinda my job to be here.”

He blushed, basking in all the attention he was receiving. “We should catch up! I haven’t seen you in years man!” Jacaerys scooted his seat closer, his cheeks lightly flushed. “I’d love that.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You were talking to him for what felt like hours, turns out it was only twenty minutes, when you felt someone step behind you, their body lightly pressing against yours. “You remember mrs-” Jacaerys words slowed to a stop as he looked above you.

You turned around, your frown quickly turning into a wide smile. “Mr. Targaryen, how can I help you?” He smiled lightly, nodding in your direction. His gaze turned to Jacaerys and his soft smile fell flat. “Who are you?”

The question came out with an icy tone, which made your eyebrows furrowed together. “Jacaerys Velaryon, marketing director for Driftmark Corporations and you are?” he inquired, his words slow as he kept his eyes locked with Aegon.

“Richer than you. Are you purposely distracting my assistant from doing her job?” Your eyes widened; he had never been this outwardly rude before. “Maybe. She would probably prefer working for someone who doesn’t have a stick up their ass.”

You gaped at the insult, “What the f-” Aegon chuckled, baring his teeth as if he were a wolf. “Little dogs always bark the loudest,” he spat. Your morals told you to defend your old friend, your hormones were telling you to keep watching your boss telling someone off.

Jacaerys was silent for a moment, his fists clenching and unclenching before he spoke, “I see you work for one of these guys… If you ever want to move to a company that treats their workers fairly, please don’t be afraid to reach out.” He slipped you a business card with his information on it.

Aegon scoffed, “We’re leaving… Now!” He snatched your arm and practically dragged you out the door and into the car. You were eerily silent, still trying to process whatever the fuck just happened. Once inside, he looked over at you, his eyes wide and bloodshot. You could see the anger bubbling under the surface.

He gripped the steering wheel tight, his knuckles turning white. You swallowed the lump in your throat, not knowing what to say to make this situation any less tense. You’ve never seen him angry, not even when his half-sister tried to take his spot as ceo.

The rest of the drive was silent, an awkward tension in the air since you had no idea what to say. You were also a little ticked off how quickly he chased Jace away, granted it was kinda hot. He pulled into your parking garage, parking his luxury car in the far back. You know, just in case anyone tried to break in.

Aegon hopped out of the car silently, opening your door for you. “You don’t need to walk me up to my apartment,” you spoke plainly. “Yes I do,” the tone of his voice was more serious than you’d ever heard it before. Once again, the silent treatment was back on as you walked to your floor.

He walked you all the way inside, even letting himself into your home without your permission. “I pay you too much to live in a rundown apartment.” You closed the door behind you, finally he had said something to make you snap, “What is your problem tonight?!”

“It’s not a problem, just an observation.” You scoffed, “you know exactly what I meant.” His jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring, he looked like he wanted to say something but not too much. “You’re my assistant and you’re meant to be by my side at all times, but you were too busy flirting it up with my competitors.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, “I wasn’t flirting with anyone! I was catching up with an old friend!” Aegon’s brows furrowed, he strode towards you, so he was barely a foot away from you. “Oh please! You were practically swooning. Also, you never call me Mr. Targaryen!”

“Are you serious right back!” You spat back, pushing his chest. Unfortunately, Aegon still had enough energy to argue back. “I just don’t want to lose my assistant to a lesser man!” You scoffed; "you've been a fucking douche all night because you’re jealous?!” His jaw fell slack, eyes widening in surprise. “I didn’t say-”

“Dude, are you genuinely blind?! I’ve been pining after you since you hired me, following you around like a fucking dog, doing everything you say and them some! I’ve even thought about having your babies!” The last statement took him off guard, he looked at you like you had two heads. His gaze flitted back and forth as if he were looking for any signs of joking.

Now you were embarrassed, “I didn’t mean that last part-” Aegon stepped closer grabbing you delicately by your arms, eyes still searching for any sign of disapproval. “You think about having my babies?” The question was quiet and desperate, his pupils dilated.

You felt your heart drop in your chest, you swallowed the lump in your throat. You nodded slowly, “maybe.” You stared back up at him, trying to telepathically make him kiss you. You’ve tried this manifestation method before, it did not work.

“I can do that.” His lips were on yours before you could register his words. The kiss was fiery and passionate, even better than what you expected. Your eyes fluttered shut as you relished in the moment. Aegon wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush against his.

You bit back a whimper, reaching up to intertwine your fingers in his silver hair. Aegon pulled away, his breaths coming out ragged as he gazed at your swollen lips. He wasted no time kissing you again, his tongue dancing across your bottom lip.

His hand moved to grip your ass, squeezing lightly as he picked you up off the ground. You let out a squeal of laughter, gripping onto his shoulders to prevent you from falling. Aegon dropped himself on the couch, keeping your leg straddled around him.

You took the liberty to start unbuttoning his dress shirt, ripping off his bowtie and revealing his toned torso and chest. Aegon was quicker, pulling your dress above your head and throwing it across the room.

His eyes widened when he realized you were braless, his fingers kneading your perky breasts. His lips molded with yours once more, you nipped at his lip, tugging it between your teeth and causing him to groan in approval. Aegon moved your panties to the side, groping your inner thigh and spreading your legs wider across his lap.

His cock was already straining against his pants, but Aegon didn't seem to want to rush. He gently kissed down your jawline and to your neck, licking and nibbling at your ear. Your breathing became shaky, your core growing wetter as he took a nipple in his mouth and began to suckle on it.

"Aegon," you whined. You reached down, wrapping your fingers around his hardness, causing Aegon to moan into your ear. He lifted you up, unzipping his pants and pushing them down along with his boxers.

His member sprang out, bouncing as he pushed you back onto the couch. His cock was definitely the biggest you’ve seen thus far. You gasped when he rubbed himself against your slick, he kissed you again, this time deeper as he slowly thrust his hips forward and entering you.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned loudly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Fuuck you’re so tight,” Aegon thrusted forward, his top hitting the sweet spot inside you almost forgot existed. Your moans grew louder as he pounded into you, his grunts echoing through the living room.

You clawed at his back, pulling him closer as he thumb moved to do circles around your clit. “You’re such a good little assistant for me, hm? Taking my cock so fucking well.” Aegon gripped your ass with one hand, holding you still. He took the opportunity to slow his pace and roll his hips in circles, dragging his cock along your walls. “Mmm sgood,” you slurred.

You rolled your hips against his, earning you a pleased groan. His finger moved faster around your bud, “think you deserve a reward huh?” Your eyes began to roll into the back of your head as his movements quickened. “Yes, yes, yes,” you whimpered.

“Yes, who?” The coil in your stomach began to tighten as he moved his fingers away, “Yes Sir! Please!” Aegon growled into your ear, kissing you again as he sped up once more. The low noise sent shivers down your spine, causing your cunt to clench around him.

“That’s my girl,” he groaned before plunging deep inside you, making you cry out into the kiss. You threw your head back and moaned, your thighs beginning to shake as ecstasy washed over you. You completely tightened around him, your pussy fluttered around him as you rode your orgasm out.

Aegon’s movement stalled for a moment, letting you catch your breath before he flipped you onto your back. Aegon lifted your legs above his head, “you’re so perfect, I think you deserve more than that.” He licked a strip up your slick, pressing a kiss to your sensitive bud.

He used his fingers to spread you apart, greedily licking along your walls and lapping at your sweet juices. You let out a deep moan, your fingers tangling in his silver hair pulling him closer. Your mouth hung open, eyes half lidded as he devoured you.

His tongue skillfully circled around you, his lips sucking at your swollen bud. “Taste so sweet,” he mumbled, sending vibrations that sent tingles down your spine. You began to grind against him, desperate for release. Aegon took it as an invitation to move his hands to grip your hips and begin to fuck you with his tongue.

Your juices were dripping down your thighs, covering his face in a glossy sheen. You felt a new wave of heat wash over you as he pressed his tongue inside you, curling and twisting it. You rolled your hips, fucking yourself against his mouth as your second orgasm began to build.

He groaned against you when your legs began to clench around him, the vibrations sending you over the edge. Aegon continued to lap up your juices, causing you to jerk your thighs around him. His head finally lifted up, a strand of your slick connected from his bottom lip to his chin.

You pulled him towards you, crashing your lips together, he wasn’t wrong you did taste sweet. Aegon grinder against you, wetting his cock before he quickly plunged into you once more, filling you to the brim as he went. You let out a loud cry, gripping onto his back. “You still want more?” He spoke breathlessly.

His thumb returned to your sensitive bud, circling it slowly as he thrusted into you. You squirmed beneath him, his grunts echoed off the walls. “P-please please, sir.” You whimpered, the sound of skin slapping echoing in your living room.

His hips snapped forward, dragging his cock against your sweet spot. “Tell me how badly you want it.” Aegon's eyes flashed up at you, his hips slowed to a teasing pace. "I-I want it so bad," you gasped as he thrusted harder. “I- want to have your b- babies.” Aegon’s thrusts were quickening their pace, "please give it to me sir."

“Oh fuck,” he moaned, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. His rough thrusts become sloppy. You could feel your third orgasm beginning to rip through you as he circled around your bud. “P-please cum for me, sir.” Your words sent Aegon over the edge, his eyes rolling into the back of his head and his soft moans filling the room. You could feel his cock pulsating inside you, his warm cum filling you to the brim.

Your thighs quivered as your orgasm came crashing down on you, your breathing became labored. He leaned down, kissing you lovingly as his hand caressed your cheek. You could feel his cock slowly softening inside you as he slowly pulled himself out.

Aegon pulled away from your lips and trailed kisses down your jawline and neck. His voice mumbled, “I wish you’d told me sooner.” You couldn't help but giggle silently, petting his hair. “Hm, couldn’t let you fuck me for free could I?” He scoffed, propping himself up to gaze at you with his baby blues.

"This pussy is priceless," he murmured against your lips. “Oh god,” you groaned, how his cringe captivated you, you would never understand. Aegon rolled off you, cuddling close and wrapping his arm around your waist.

You stared at the ceiling, feeling a sense of calmness you haven't felt in forever. "So... does this mean you want to be more than my assistant?" His fingers ran through your hair, “and have my babies for real?” Aegon's voice sounded almost child-like, You giggled quietly, "is that our new contract?" He stared at you for a moment, his eyes lit up with something you hadn’t seen before. "It’s a deal," Aegon smiled brightly.

[deedah]

guys.. I think I know how Uzi stayed in control from Cyn in ep. 8..

(This is a ramble btw)

so I’ve been digging into some religion lately cause I’m bored, and stumbled across a key element that Uzi performs in murder drones ep 8.

this scene is from ep. 7, but you can tell what happened here..

Uzi is terrified after finding out that that “Tessa” and N plan to kill her.

(Side note- “Tessa”, or now Cyn, wanted to kill Uzi because once a worker drone completely dies, the Absolute Solver can permanently take control of the host. It was never about saving the universe)

But then this happens in ep. 8

ONE episode after this scene

Even I was confused by how she automatically did this on my first watch through

but now, I think I found the answer

you see, these moments tie back to a religion called Christianity

where the God of its people help protect its creations from a fallen Angel named the devil

in this case, Cyn is the devil as she brings destruction and confusion to the creations of this world

Uzi is portrayed as a human with a taste of supernatural powers that one could get

but that leaves a huge blank space,

who is God portrayed as?

most of you probably think it would be Cyn since she did destroy the whole world of that universe, but I disagree.

I think God in this universe is non other than..!

I know, shocker..

but it aligns with everything I’m saying, trust me

As Cyn brings confusion and brings people down by using their weaknesses, Nori uplifted Uzi while in space

(And! The woman haven’t seen her daughter for like 20-ish years! If they were to happen to anyone else they probably would just shimmy away)

and in Christianity, God brings hope and peace to people, and when that happens the devil can’t mess or torment that person.

when Nori told Uzi just to have confidence in herself, Cyn couldn’t bypass that and therefore couldn’t take control of her.

PLUS! Nori pretty much died for Uzi to become the new ruler of the universe

just like Jesus did on the cross in the Bible

if Nori would have never died, Uzi wouldn’t not have been allowed out of the bunker, and could actually learn more about her powers with Doll by her side.

so ya! I think that sums it up pretty well, idk

send me some feedback if you have any ideas about this theory!!

[givehimthemedicine]

lumax as a premature relationship

first: I don't mean any of this like "the show shouldn't have done it". what I mean is that with lumax, ST is telling the story of a relationship whose flaw (if it can be summarized into just one) is that it happened too soon.

probably out of comparison to milkvan, and the delay of canon byler, lumax gets lauded as the wholesome ship based on true friendship that slowly blossomed into romance. but that's not accurate. Lucas is a good friend to Max, but Max isn't to Lucas, and it certainly wasn't slow.

even platonic lumax should've been a slow simmer but was a speed run

the newly-introduced Max has high walls, which suggests anyone who wants to get close to her will have to take a slow approach. but then before you know it, Lucas is just kinda. in there.

yes, it takes him most of the season to earn Max's trust, which sounds long, but isn't. the first time Lucas and Max ever spoke was Halloween, Wednesday. the arcade I think is Saturday, and the junkyard is the day after that? so she broaches the darkest subject in her life... 4 days after meeting him. with like. zero prompting. "that fog looks cool! btw my parents are divorced and..."

Max's walls are only so high because of how badly she wants to let someone in, so it's understandable that the right person could get in relatively fast. I have no problem with that trope. sucker, in fact. but opening up here was CRAZY for someone with huge trust issues:

you have to be careful who you confide in about abuse because if your confidant mishandles it so that your abuser finds out you told, things could get MUCH worse. she simply doesn't know Lucas well enough to know he won't accidentally put her in more danger (which actually he already did: by following her out of the arcade after she said not to, and again by showing up at her house).

this talk was moments before Max saw a demodog, meaning she's gone along with the supernatural story without any evidence. I'm not criticizing that; she's a kid who likes fantasy, wants friends really bad, and isn't above playing make-believe in order to be included. what bothers me is she confided in Lucas about her abuse BEFORE seeing a shred of proof this entire outing wasn't the elaborate prank she feared it was. in the infinitely more realistic scenario that these boys are just messing with her, and will ditch her after they've had their laugh, this could so easily have led to a much darker situation at home.

the timing of that conversation was so objectively, stupidly unsafe that I'd call it bad writing if it was an isolated incident. but, self-preservation instincts so terrible they can sometimes be better explained as elf-sabotage - that's just classic Max.

romantic lumax seemed kind of forced because as a new kid in town, all Max wanted was friendship

the snow ball is about a month after everything else. Max and Lucas don't seem to be a couple yet. it doesn't even look like they're dates. so to kiss him suddenly felt like another jump way ahead. he sure looked surprised.

I guess a month is a while when you're 13, but the romantic aspect felt rushed to me because the whole season is full of indications that Max only wanted friendship. and that's made super clear by her constant focus on group friendship. her dialogue throughout 2 is consistently group-oriented.

her behavior is too: as of Halloween, Max has Lucas and Dustin in her pocket. if she's crushing on Lucas, or enjoys attention from boys in general, why on earth would she go out on such a limb seeking Mike's acceptance after she already has what she wants?

because that's not what she wants most. she wants to belong to the whole group, like she keeps saying. (I'm going to ramble much more about this theme in another post soon)

Max continues to prioritize friendship / group activities even after lumax becomes a thing

a few examples:

lumax's idea of "romantic time" can include their friends, in contrast to milkvan prioritizing alone time.

Max (and Lucas) drop 1 on 1 time (washing out his eyes is a scene that's an easy kiss opportunity for your standard tv teen couple) in favor of a long trek in the sun to build a radio tower so Dustin can talk to a girl she doesn't believe exists. Max and Lucas do skip off together, but again in contrast to El and Mike who leave early to make out, they only leave because it's time to go home.

^that's the same Max who tagged along and earnestly participated in armoring up a junked schoolbus to fight monsters without any proof.

despite downsizing for trailer living, she kept the Michael Myers mask in memory of the first night she felt like a part of the party.

unlike others who yell for their loved one from the UD, Max calls out for Lucas and Dustin.

her life-saving montage includes many platonic as well as romantic moments.

alright killjoy, if Max only wanted friendship, how's it make sense that SHE initiated all the romantic stuff?

ST is not a universe where grabbing someone's hand in a tense moment is necessarily an indicator of romance. Dustin said he could feel "the electricity" when Lucas and Max held hands on the bus, but then, Dustin also ships stobin.

the kiss, I could actually come closest to calling a writing misstep because.. it wasn't written. it feels forced because it was, as a last-minute unscripted thing - not because the Duffers decided it fit Max's characterization, but purely because they thought it was funny how uncomfortable Sadie was with filming her first kiss. <- this interview is actually so gross.

but, that kiss is canon regardless of how I feel about bts lore, and it fits and it works in the sense that this is the story of a flawed relationship. Max initiated it despite not being ready for it, simply because she thought she was.

Max's childhood fears about bad relationships have made her overeager to prove a good relationship can exist. so the first time a boy is actually kind to her, she's like OH SEE LOVE IS REAL I DONT HAVE TO GROW UP TO BE MY MOM LET'S GOOOO and hurls herself into something she's not mature enough to realize she's too immature to execute well.

if that kiss was so misguided, how's it still Max's happiest memory?

there's no conflict there.

she grew up around terrible relationships and probably feared she was destined for the same, so to find a nice boy like Lucas must have given her such incredible relief and hope. in her young mind, that dance was her happily ever after. you never forget how good a moment like that felt, regardless of how well reality lived up to it.

that said. can I point out that reality hasn't lived up to it?

Max choosing the moment lumax began, as opposed to any moment from the year-and-change of its actual contents... might be less good the more you think about it. like. she doesn't describe this as her favorite memory. she says it's the time she was happiest. in other words, she hasn't been as happy before or since.

that kiss marked lumax's moment of greatest potential, which I think is what made Max so happy. not the relationship she's actually gotten so far.

mmkay and then what do I do about the fact Max STILL wants to date Lucas?

once again, Max is the one who makes things overtly romantic by doodling a picture of them holding hands. but as you may know from my recent lumax diatribe, I don't see how the ship is seaworthy at present.

so the top layer of my interpretation is that Max is still operating under the same ideas that caused her to kiss Lucas in the first place. she's not thinking about how it'll work; she just wants. this is fast-forward Max again. it's a similar moment of hope to the snow ball kiss. romance with Lucas once again looks like her lifeline out of an awful situation.

the layer underneath that is less fluffy:

Max might've accepted this invite in as much an "I might die tonight so it won't hurt to make some lighthearted plans for the future, he did just save my life so why hurt his feelings for no reason" way as anything else. I don't mean her affection is fake. she just might consider the movie date a pipe dream.

consider that her attic monologue happens only a couple minutes after the doodle, and shows that her suicidal ideations are barely behind her. like, the wanting-to-die part is just bait at this point I think, but the deserving-to-die sentiment still feels fresh and sincere.

consider that Max so recently scolded Lucas for assuring her things would work out because that's "never true" in her life... and now here she is drawing a doodle of things working out.

sure, this could be a girl who's thinking "yes!!! ✅ Attending Event! I genuinely expect to be alive, deserving of love, and in the mood for romance this Friday!" but to me, it honestly seems more like a girl thinking "God, I wish."

btw the doodle would've been perfect as the advent of romantic lumax, imo

if lumax had grown slowly out of a healthy mutual friendship, Max really could be ready right here.

imagine: s2, Max earns her place in the party, but to grow especially close friends with Lucas takes a year; the bus talk happens in s3. we can tell their friendship is starting to want to become more. depression interferes in s4. but their bond helps pierce the fog, and they protect each other from Vecna/Jason.

you hit me with the movie doodle after THAT buildup? adorable, precious, showstopping. at that point, that date could've been their happily ever after. <- this is what people think it is already!

lumax is one of many flawed relationships (and that's okay)

another sign that lumax is supposed to be flawed is its place in the larger pattern of flawed relationships: parallels with other characters and ships.

Max and El in particular share a similar stumble into their relationships: both bond with the first boy to treat them with kindness, and throw themselves into a relationship that actually costs them the friendship they should've had with that boy.

and all the party relationships illustrate different friendship/romance progressions:

lumax is the story of a romance that should've been a friendship first/also and isn't going to succeed til it gets this right

byler will be the story of a romance that was a friendship first and will succeed by remaining one also (or so the themes and patterns suggest)

mileven is the story of a romance that should've been a friendship instead.

literally all of ST's relationships, including the endgame romances, have flaws that are intentional and meant to be explored. in fact that's like... most of what the show is. and most fans can readily admit that about all of them, until they get to lumax, which they think is uniquely meant to be perfect and is flawed only in its writing. this view strips lumax from its broader context and ignores many lessons it's there to teach us about ST's overarching themes.

understand: my aim in pointing out lumax's flaws is not to persuade anyone to enjoy it less or stop shipping it!

flaws don't mean you aren't allowed to like a thing. if anything, it makes them way more interesting to discuss, and more compelling to root for/against. we don't have to pretend our characters are perfect in order to enjoy, ship, and learn from them.

more on all this coming soon in another post exploring different types of love in the Max plot!

[highwaywhump]

Joey gets a nosebleed and isn’t quite sure how to handle it.

TW/CW: conditioned whumpee, pet whump (not really), whumpee afraid caretaker will hurt him (doesn't happen), nosebleeds and descriptions of blood

--

The morning had been deceptively calm up until that point. It all starts when Joey’s top lip feels warm. The feeling subconsciously tips him off and he swipes his fingers across his face. They come back bloody. 

A part of him he thought was long since gone suddenly awakens and forms a curse on his tongue as drops of his blood drips down onto the kitchen table. He holds his hands under his face and leans back to keep from staining the table further, and instead it drips onto his shirt. When he leans forward again to save his shirt it drips between his legs and onto the kitchen chair he’s sitting on. 

“No, no, nonono…” Joey whines desperately to himself as he stumbles backwards and to his feet. The chair scratches loudly along the floor. One of his arms shoot out to help regain balance and he knocks over his glass, spilling the last of his juice on the table and down onto the floor. Joey hiccups something halfway to a sob when he sees the red droplets on the cupboards across the room, which were no doubt flung there during his flailing. 

There are tears in his eyes when he finally stills, focusing on breathing. Can he clean this up before Aaron comes into the kitchen to tell him goodbye before he leaves for work? He looks around. Definitely not. There’s juice and scratches on the floor and blood everywhere. He probably can’t even reach the red drops on the cupboard. He doesn’t know where the cleaning supplies are, and even if he did he wouldn’t know which were okay to use on hardwood and which would stain it further. 

The only way out is to keep Aaron out of the kitchen and take care of the mess when he’s at work. Joey presses his fingers against his nose and tilts his head back, willing the blood to stop. If he can only clean himself up with paper towels, somehow cover the stain on his shirt and meet Aaron in the hallway to stop him from entering the kitchen at all-

“No, wait, don’t lean back,” Aaron’s voice cuts through his rambling thoughts like sunshine through stormclouds. He has entered the kitchen without a sound - or maybe Joey was too upset about his bleeding nose to notice. Joey whips around and makes a noise that is halfway terrified, halfway questioning. What do I do? To his great despair, another couple of drops fling from his hands and land on Aaron’s shirt - a deadly sin if there ever was one. Joey’s eyes are huge and brimful of tears. 

Aaron does not at all seem to mind the blood as he raises his hands up to Joey’s head. Joey doesn’t dare move a muscle. This is it, he thinks as he feels Aaron’s hand at the base of his skull, the other one on his chin. . He’ll choke me out. The other shoe has dropped.

But Aaron only gently presses, and Joey immediately folds, following the pressure until he’s pushed his head forwards. 

“It’s dripping on the floor-“ Joey starts to sob. 

“We’ll clean it up after,” Aaron says, not missing a beat, and Joey takes the words to heart unquestioningly. “You’re okay, it’s just a nosebleed. Come over to the sink and tip your head forwards.” Aaron’s voice is calm and not rushed at all. He’s not mad, Joey realizes. 

He trustingly follows Aaron’s directions and stumbles over to lean his head over the sink. He wants to grip the edge of the sink for balance, but his hands are covered in blood so he ends up holding them in tight, tight fists instead, not quite sure what to do. 

“There we go,” Aaron says as the blood drips into the sink, still holding a warm hand to the back of Joey’s head. “We want it out, not down your throat.”

“M-hm,” Joey says through his teeth, not confident to say anything else at the moment. 

“Do you think you can pinch your nose shut?” Aaron gently asks, taking a step to the side to try and meet Joey’s eye. “I read somewhere that will help stop it.”

“Y-you do it,” Joey says before sense can get the better of him. But Aaron nods. 

“Okay. Tell me if it hurts.” Aaron gently takes hold of the soft flesh of joey’s nose between his thumb and forefinger. Joey is shaking until he feels Aaron’s other hand slightly tighten its grip at the base of his skull. The effect is instantaneous. He relaxes into the secure grip, of which he realizes there have been very few of since he came here. Aaron is always careful and gentle with him, and asks before he touches him, whether it’s verbal or non-verbal. Joey has found he likes that, and still ... the trained, ingrained, good-boy-part of him likes feeling a firm, steady hand.

“Remember to breathe, sweetheart,” Aaron suggests after a few moments, and Joey does as he’s told. Lips parted, he takes measured, steady breaths. 

For a minute or two, neither say anything. The blood eventually stops oozing out between Aaron’s fingers, and he loosens his grip. 

“I got blood on your shirt,” Joey hopelessly reminds his keeper. “And the cupboards.”

Aaron’s hand moves down to where his neck becomes his spine and gently massages him there with his fingers. Joey feels the tension slowly melt and run down his bones, disappearing. 

“I have many shirts and cupboards, Joey. I only have one you.”

--

tags <3 @simplygrimly @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @briars7 @hackles-up @doveotions

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @kixngiggles @firewheeesky @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline

@whumpthisway @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumping-snail @pumpkin-spice-whump @pigeonwhumps

@whumplr-reader @considerablecolors @dustypinetree @snakebites-and-ink @inkstainsonmyhands12

@taterswhump @hxakfhakbcbqkk

[choccy-milky]

Hi Darling! First of all.. OMG I REALLYYY REALLYYYY LOVE YOUR FIC ♥️♥️♥️! I've been a silent reader for too long and this is the first time I came to the surface to thank you for this amazing fic and art that you've made.

I also have gathered my courage to ask you this. But headcanonically (if that's even a word but wtv 😭) in your fic world. Did Sebastian ever court or interested in someone before Clora? I had a wild thought that he was into someone and had courted them but wouldn't last long because he had to take care of Anne and this lass he courted was tired of his rambling about Anne this and Anne that. Sebastian decided that they should end things because not appreciating Anne means not appreciating him.

And when he dated Clora. He met her again. She desperately wants him back and apologises (She does have another intention though). He declines because he's already ill with her and is now crazy in love with our darling Clora. He chooses not to tell Clora about this. But I wonder what happened if Clora knows tho.

ANYWAY! THANK YOU FOR READING MY LONG ASS WILD THOUGHTS BUT I AM AN ANGST GIRL IN THIS ANGST LIFE. 😭😭😭💙💙💙

AW THANK YOU FOR TELLING ME💖💖IM GLAD TO HEAR IT💖💖 AND OK its funny you bring this up bc i actually planned for sebastian to have a bit of an internal monologue in my most recent chap about the girls he's had a crush on (before clora--omg... B.C), but i ended up cutting it out because it was part of a deleted scene. but no seb has never actually dated/courted anyone before clora, tho he defs did have crushes....but if he WAS with another girl before clora....🤔🤔hmm🤔🤔 i guess it would depend when in their relationship clora found out? if it was at the beginning when clora was still really shy/nervous/self conscious, it would obviously make her even moreso, and she would have compared herself and wondered if she was good enough and if she was doing things right. and i feel like that early in the relationship, if that other girl DID come back and try and get with seb, clora might actually be worried they'd get together again, esp if she ever saw them talking (kinda like the lawley situation, but in reverse BAHA) if it was NOW though and clora just suddenly found out....LMAOO oh boy. she'd obvs be like why did u never tell me, and itd go something like this: seb: "it was brief enough that i didn't see any point in mentioning it--we hadn't even snogged." clora: "well, it just so happens that i was with a boy before you, too. but we hadn't snogged either, so by your logic, i guess you don't care." seb: ".........." seb: "........alright, point proven." (and then seb would be all worried and confirm that she hadnt actually been with anyone before him/that she was just messing with him, and shed be like LMAO YES IT WAS JUST FOR ARGUMANTS SAKE OBVS) anyway clora might be sad for a bit but she'd get over it pretty quick, since she knows seb is so devoted to her/hed make it a point to be a huge simp for her to show her he has no leftover feelings for anyone else LOL (like how he was after the relic incident & during her period) honestly its just hard to make clora jealous in the first place, bc seb is such a mega simp for her LMFAO. and aS HE SHOULD BE!!!👇🧎‍♂️

[bucknastysbabe]

Hi, I am literally awful at making requests and I really hope you’re currently taking requests but I read your fic about Chubby!Bucky and was wondering if you could reverse it, like a short plus size reader and normal movie like Bucky , but not one where he just accepts her body because looks aren’t important but one where he worships her body, he doesn’t just think curves are okay for a woman he loves curves on a woman, you can make it an established relationship or a not, I prefer it not to be an established relationship but just write whatever flows. A smut story would be what I am asking for, some light dom!bucky sub!reader. If it’s not too much to ask can you throw in a kissing/spit kink, not too much focus on spitting but about slobbery messy kisses. Sorry if this is a rambling mess but I hope you can work with it, thank you, love your writing. 💜

YES I GOTCHU!! Always taking requests. Also I got what you meant don’t put yourself down DAMMIT *angry pointing*!! Sorry for the wait had a writers block moment this week but hope you enjoy :)

Big softie buck luvs his chubby gf

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1,830

Tags: V!fingering, rough sex, pnv!sex, sloppy kissing, dirty talk, fluff and smut, Bucky is Babie, plus size!reader

A/N: Idk where the breeding kink hopped in but y’know how it be folks.

Bucky had a skip in his step going down the street. He was done with all of the bullshit paperwork in the Flagsmashers aftermath. Sam was taking over mantle of Steve amazingly, Walker was ousted and shamed, and they even got Sharon back into the states. Although he wasn’t completely sure about her.

Regardless he could breathe and go see his sweetie. Perfect, patient, lovely, and owner of the most wondrous curves. Bucky had to keep his dick in his pants for now. He carried a bouquet of roses and some chocolates, hustling down the row of brownstones. His girlfriend was very talented in her career and managed to buy one for herself.

He fought back his giddy grin when rapping on the red wooden door. It slowly opened to reveal her pretty face, mussed hair, and adorable huge t-shirt. The man had to shove down his intense desire knowing that was his shirt. She yelped in surprise, practically launching on the super-soldier.

Bucky laughed and grabbed her under the ass to keep the crying thing from falling. He chuckled, “Hey, hey, you’ll mess up the chocolates hold on.” She grabbed the package blindly and tossed them on a side table. She nuzzled into his scruff, arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

She sniffled, “Don’t need em- I got you.” The super soldier shook his head with a toothy smile, placing the flowers on another surface while leading the pair to the living room. He stroked her back in an attempt to quiet her crying. Bucky did not need to have the usual happy-go-lucky woman crying over the likes of him.

Sitting back onto the plush couch he murmured, “I’m back now, done, you’ll want to kick me out before the end of it.” His flesh hand thumbed away a tear and tipped her chin up. The girl wiped at her eyes and half-giggled and sobbed, “I know, I was so worried during it all. The news aren’t good for my nerves.”

Bucky wanted to sappily get lost in her watery eyes, framed by long clumped lashes. He murmured while stroking along her lush sides, “I can give you first hand doll,” he absently waved, “Tell me about you.” She rolled her eyes and replied, “Work, worrying, watching Alpine, I started a new project.”

As soon as the white cat was mentioned she appeared, purring and snuggling up to the pair. Bucky felt his eyes slightly water as he croaked, “There’s my sweet girl.” The cat let out a little ‘mrow?’ and promptly bit his hand. The couple busted into guffaws, Bucky snarking, “I guess that’s what I deserve.”

He leaned back, pulling his girl onto his chest.

“So tell me about that project, baby.”

He was listening to her talk about work and the project, really, but other things were starting to rear their head. She was so soft against him, lovely curves and pillowy breasts. The woman seemed sleepy recounting the latest news, words slightly stumbling. Bucky figured it was time for a wakeup call. So he grabbed a handful of ass, smirking lecherously.

She squeaked and bolted upright, gaping at Bucky. He snickered, “What?” She narrowed her eyes and groped his half-hard dick in return, the brunette’s eyes rolling with a breathy laugh. Bucky rumbled, “Sorry sweetheart, y’feel so good I lost control.” He squeezed again and nosed along her jaw— drawing out a gasp.

“Imagine how I’ve felt, toys don’t do the trick when I have a sexy super hero saving the world.”

Bucky grew jealous. He didn’t care if they were inanimate— only Bucky gets to watch his sweet girl lose herself in pleasure. He growled, “Oh yeah? What did you try?” She bit on her lower lip, eyes darting to the side, face flushing with embarrassment. Bucky ground his heavy cock against her thin underwear to goad her along.

She mumbled, “The vibrator, mm, then the shower one, y’know with the suction.”

He could’ve taken her right there imagining his girlfriend whining frustratedly on the dildo in the shower— curves slick, soapy, and bouncing with her movements. Bucky nipped her bottom lip sharply, relishing in her whimper. He cooed, “Didn’t do ya’ a lick of good either huh baby? Needed this to treat you right.” He rutted again for good measure, cock throbbing insistently. She shivered on his thighs, eyes growing glossy in desire.

She whimpered, “B-Buck, please.”

He growled, “Open.”

The girl did so obediently, widening lax lips. Bucky tilted her head back and dropped some of his spit onto her tongue. He commanded, “Swallow.” She whined thinly, throat bobbing as she did so. Her plush thighs were practically vibrating on his toned ones.

“Please, fuck, fuck,” she cried, tears pricking.

Bucky grabbed a soft cheek forcefully and claimed her lips. She pressed forward clumsily, heavy tits on his chest and little hands wrenching his jacket. Bucky dominated the kiss, his baby too overcome to do much except weak kisses and drooling. He laughed while sucking on her tongue, plundering the cute thing’s mouth.

It was sloppy. Bucky was in heaven. He liked knowing he could reduce her to tears and careless kisses without even getting in her pants. She mouthed against his lips, practically rutting to get closer. Which on that note, he snuck a hand down her plush tummy to get at her pussy. She cried out again, gasping hotly into the super soldier’s mouth.

Bucky slid two flesh fingers across her weeping slit and groaned, “Fuck- sweetheart you’re so wet.” She warbled, “Missed you, please.” In a fitful movement, Bucky flipped her around on his lap. Full ass thickly against his cock and now all of her soft parts for him to grab freely. She seemed too dazed to register, whimpering at the manhandling.

Nibbling on her neck Bucky hummed, “Can you take my shirt off for me baby? Hm?”

She flushed and nodded shyly. He hated when she got shy, thinking her extra padding wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d laid eyes on. Bucky was a man, he wanted something to grab on when he fucked a girl stupid. She shucked off the shirt, almost curling in on herself.

“No- no- you better stop it. Still like ya’ curves doll,” he tutted.

An annoyed whine was his response.

So Bucky ripped off her underwear with his vibranium arm, donning a shit eating grin. The woman yelping and jolting on his cock. Bucky snickered, “That’s what ya’ get, now I get to see it all.” Her face flushed even prettier, swollen lips lax and wet. He grabbed handfuls of her soft tits and groaned deeply, massaging and tweaking the tender flesh.

Her head fell back again the brunette’s shoulder, brokenly whimpering his name. Bucky murmured, “So sweet, missed my baby.” He thumbed at a peaked nipple and circled around it, sending her ass rocking back against his throbbing cock. Regretfully leaving her breast, he slid his other hand to grope at plush hips and belly before drawing fingers against her slick cunt.

She urged breathlessly, “Oh, c’mon touch me bear, oh!”

He sucked a dark mark behind her ear while delving two vibranium fingers into her slick channel— hot, pulsing, and oh-so-soaked. He grunted in arousal, thrusting and curling his fingers. Bucky growled, “Be a good girl and ride my hand.” She nodded vigorously, mewling and canting her hips against the heel of his palm.

Bucky gritted his teeth to hold back from her ass rubbing perfectly along his strained dick. He had to compartmentalize. Objective one, make his Angel cum. Then he can have a go. She squealed on a perfectly timed curl of fingers on the g-spot and his smooth palm against her clit.

The man used his other hand to grab and pull at her bouncing breasts, mouth leaving a mess of marks all over her neck. She began to tremble, hands twitching to find purchase. His sweetie wailed, “Buck, oh goddd, m’so close baby!” The former assassin paused his bite to growl, “Let go, I know it feels s’good. Then I’ll fuck ya’ raw.”

That did the trick. She loved fucking raw. Bucky had an inkling his girl had been wanting him to knock her up. He wouldn’t mind, more tits, more curves, and a Junior. But Bucky was selfish and wanted her to himself for now— no sharing. Her gushing all over his hand brought Bucky out of his fantasies.

She sucked in deep breaths, exhaling with moans, body wracked with pleasure. Bucky cooed and eased her down, drawing his hand out of her. He could bust right now at the slick coating his pants. She turned and begged for a kiss silently, eyelashes fluttering.

They kissed again, softer this time, softly intertwining their tongues. She whispered into Bucky’s mouth, “Your turn, old man.” Bucky snickered and rolled his eyes dramatically, nipping her upper lip teasingly. She reached behind blindly to help him unbutton, lips sealing together with wet smacks.

Bucky moaned when his achy cock hit the air, her slick center so close to where he needed it buried. She mewled, “Take me, use me baby, get it out.” Later, the man would deny the absolutely pathetic noise he made. Bucky aligned the ruddy tip of his cock to her and gritted his jaw at being sheathed. Her back arched at the intrusion, mouthing at Bucky’s scruff.

He gripped onto her wide hips and lifted her up and down on his cock. Basically a cocksleeve at this point with the way Bucky was slamming his angry cock in. She cried and babbled at the rough treatment, incoherent slurs. Bucky choppily grunted and moaned, veins pulsing with sheer need. She felt so fucking good.

Bucky hissed, “That’s my- hah- best girl, bein’a good little fucktoy.”

She nodded deliriously, drool running down a corner or her gaping mouth, tits bouncing wildly as she held onto Bucky’s hands for dear life. The brunette was going to blow quick at this rate— his girl was sucking him in too good. She seized up and squeezed his dick like a vice.

She had cum again, only a shrill yelp and Bucky’s cock being throughly milked as the indicator. His baby fell limp against him, nuzzling into his sweaty cheek. His balls were full up and pulsing, ready to release. Another one, two, three pumps Bucky came with a loud cry of her name.

He slumped into the couch, still seating inside of his girlfriend while riding out the aftershocks. He could vaguely hear her whimpering about being full under the blood rushing in Bucky’s ears. He wrapped his arms around her soft midsection, suddenly very tired. She hissed, “Not there.”

Yawning, Bucky snorted, “No way in hell baby. Can’t a man hug the woman he loves who just made him see stars?”

She narrowed her eyes for a pause then pecked his lips. The woman murmured, “Fine. Since you’re the man I love who made me see stars two times.”

“Well I could count two since you’re in my lap.”

“Hush.”

[soleilceirinen]

The Portrait | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Thomas Shelby is your History professor at the university. One day he wants to meet you at his office and it scares you a bit. Definitely, you are not expecting to see what's waiting for you there. Modern AU.

Warnings: nothing.

A/N: this is short and maybe makes no sense but I just wanted to write something after not writing anything in months. Also, it's inspired by a real teacher I had, who kept a huge self portrait in his university office. It was horrible and funny at the same time.

Sorry for the English, it isn't my first language. There are probably a lot of mistakes but I don't feel like proofreading it more. Thanks for reading it!

Peaky Blinders Masterlist | Cillian Murphy Masterlist

In the three years that you had been studying at the university, you had never been in professor Shelby’s office. Not even once. But there were rumours, each of them crazier than the next one. They said that one of the walls was covered by a bookshelf which actually was a secret door to access professor Solomon’s office, who some people believed were his secret lover. But that was nothing compared to other things you had heard, such as not going alone to his office if you were a young woman, just in case. 

Of course, you didn’t believe any of this. Unfortunately, you had learned the hard way that sometimes people were mean and they would talk shit about others just out of jealousy, or self discontent. Some people had very sad and empty lifes. 

It didn’t make sense to you because Thomas Shelby never messed with anyone. The man taught his classes and left, unlike other teachers who tried really hard to be friends with their students, he knew where to set the limits. He was serious and a good professor, one of the best you had ever had. 

His lectures were focused on the first half of 20th Century History. Sometimes, Thomas would talk about World War I in a way that made you feel like he had been there, as if he were telling you all his memories. 

-

On Monday you got an email from him. Your heart skipped a beat, he wanted to meet you at his office. The message was brief and concise, it just said that he wanted to talk to you, along with the appointment’s date. Now you were a nervous wreck. What did he want to talk about with you? You couldn’t know, maybe your last essay was so horrible that he wanted to say it to your face and see your reaction.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to push away all those thoughts. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal and you were creating a mountain out of a grain of sand. Besides, it made no sense to dwell on the suffering if you didn’t even know the reason why he wanted to meet.

-

It had been five minutes since you arrived at Mr. Shelby’s office. The only problem was that you couldn’t find the strength to knock on the closed door. You just wanted to put off the moment as long as possible.

"You can do it. Tommy doesn't bite, you know?"

The sudden presence of someone behind you made you turn around in surprise. You thought you were alone in the empty hallway but clearly you were wrong because Mr. Solomons was standing next to you, seemingly amused. After all, his office was the one next to Thomas's. 

He was your professor too, although his lectures didn’t captivate you as much as those of Mr. Shelby. It wasn’t because they weren’t interesting, he specialised on Jewish History and cultural heritage, but the way he rambled was certainly disconcerting. Some days after leaving his class you weren’t even able to determine what he had been talking about since  he liked to spill ideas that in theory had some kind of connection with each other.

“I know, thanks for the encouragement,” you replied quietly. He placed one of his large hands on your shoulder and gave you a friendly squeeze before walking past you, as he headed towards his own office. 

-

Mr. Shelby's deep voice invited you in from the other side of the door. You entered slowly, fixing your gaze on the floor. He waited, sitting on the other side of the desk as he watched you with interest. 

“How are you, Y/N?”

The answer died in your throat the moment you gathered enough courage to look up in order to meet his blue eyes. Mr. Shelby stared at you expectantly, one eyebrow raised. You covered your mouth with your hand, the last thing you wanted to do now was bursting into laughter but you couldn’t take your eyes away from the painting.

Right behind him, almost covering the whole surfice of the wall, hung a huge portrait. It wasn’t a photograph, it looked like an oil painting on canvas. In it appeared Mr. Shelby, who was wearing the kind of clothes that men would probably wear back in the 1920’s, standing next to a majestic white horse. Slowly, your eyes moved from the painting to the man in front of you. 

Who in his right mind has a painting like that in their university office? It was the tackiest thing you had seen in a long time. Definitely, not what you were expecting to find there. 

“Y/N?”

Mr. Shelby's soft voice brought you back to reality. To the here and now. "Yes, good. And you?"

"Not bad. You'll wonder why I summoned you today," he said, as he rummaged through the piles of papers and books that littered his desk. You made a small noise of confirmation, so he continued speaking. "I really liked your last essay about the role of women in society during World War I. Have you ever been to France?"

You tilted your head to the side, for a moment nothing made sense. What did one thing have to do with the other? You kept looking at the portrait, as if the answer was painted somewhere there. "France?" 

At your bewildered face, Mr. Shelby laughed softly. It sounded as if he were letting out a gust of air. His eyes shined gently, he seemed to be in a good mood. “Yes, the country. The university’s History department has been offered a student exchange with a French university. It’s only a week but in five days you can do many things. I was talking to Mr. Solomons and we agreed that you are one of our most promising students, it might be interesting for you to go.”

"Really? I don't know what to say..." you mumbled, your cheeks turning red and warm. You wanted to cry, or laugh, or both. "I've never been to France, I don't even speak French."

Mr. Shelby found what he was looking for. He placed a form in front of you and pointed his finger at it. "Think about it. If you decide to go, fill this out and bring it to me in a couple of days. It's a great opportunity," he added.

Nodding, you took the form and put it carefully between your notes so it wouldn’t get all wrinkled. “Thank you so much for considering me,” you finally said, truly grateful. 

You looked one last time at the painted version of Thomas. His cold eyes returned an icy stare from above, with an almost cruel expression. He seemed so distant, like someone who no longer has anything to lose. It made you wonder, in the first place, the history behind the painting. Did he commission it? Why? Anyway, he could have hung it at his house, not there. 

Before stepping out of the office, you looked over your shoulder and smiled at him. What you weren’t expecting was Thomas returning the smile back at you, but he did and for a brief moment, his face lit up. That face couldn’t be further away from the hard features of his painted version. 

As you walked down the hallway you shook your head. So many nerves for nothing. It also infuriated you a little bit to think about all the shit people said about him behind his back, all rumours, since nobody ever mentioned the painting. 

However, you had something clear. Despite the bad reputation that preceded him, you kind of liked Thomas Shelby. He had the most incredible pair of blue eyes and the worst taste when it came to decoration, but nobody is perfect.