#Lynn writes

[bittlebarnes]

when we were young

Stranger Things | E | Steddie | 4,184 | 1/3 |

“Harrington residence,” Steve says when he answers the phone. “Steve–” It's Dustin. Steve would know his voice anywhere, even when he's choked up and crying. “It’s my mom–” And that’s enough. Steve’s checking to book a plane ticket as soon as he hangs up. -or-

Following the defeat of Vecna, Eddie, Steve, and Robin became inseparable. That is, until an attack shakes the party and leaves Robin and Steve reeling. Afraid for the worst, especially when her parents seem to agree with the violence, Steve offers to marry Robin so they can leave Hawkins together without stigma and shame. Years later, Steve’s called back home from his new life in New York with Robin to support Dustin following Claudia’s stroke. He’s not the only one Dustin called.

It was a sprint at the end, but I'm proud to say I've finished my entry to the @steddiebang of 2023! Super excited to share with all of you. Special shout-outs to the amazing people who helped get this project done. My amazing betas  sarasmiling and house_of_chant for making this fic readable! All the love in the world to my artist artist adreannaness whose work is available on both twitter and her ao3.

[lynn-reads-and-writes]

Started writing a Fire Watcher!Obi-Wan x Werewolf!Anakin fic when I should br finishing other fics.

[littlefirefox]

this is so dumb but what’s a good crack fic lmao

[zimmerdouche]

Hockey is a superstitious sport.

Captain William J. Poindexter muses on this as he partakes in the newest tradition of the class of 2018 - sitting on the reading room with his two best friends, watching Chris Chow painstakingly fill a cone with weed in an attempt to solidify his next shutout.

“Derek, I have to be the one to do this,” Chowder says after Nursey’s umpteenth time trying to control the process without touching anything. “Dex is absolutely useless when it comes to weed and the last time I let you fill the cone, Buckets wiped out into our own goal. Do you know what it feels like to have a 6’7” teenager, on your own team, nearly give you a concussion?”

“Yes, actually, because that same impossibly tall defenseman accidentally high sticked me in the face during practice literally last week,” Nursey reminds him.

“Shut up.”

Chris finishes the task at hand and passes the joint to Nursey. “Last point gets first hit.”

As they settle into their new routine, Dex feels the familiar haze building in the bridge of his nose and lets himself relax into the high. He doesn’t think about their disastrous preseason, the shocking standoffishness of the freshman backup goalie, the clicking that’s already started in his left shoulder that he hasn’t told anyone about yet - or any of the other pressures of being captain. The anxiety and stress disappears, just for a few hours. He can just exist.

Until Nursey decides to drop a fucking nuclear bomb.

“So, we all had a crush on Bitty, right?”

_X_

the bittydex /bittyjackdex brain rot got me

enjoy folx

(only available to registered users bc of ai bs)

[unsteadylilactree]

I was tagged by @diazblunt for WIP Wednesday and once again ran out of time and energy (sorry lol). tysm for tagging me though!!

I haven't written any more of the couch fic so I thought i'd share some semi-abandoned buddie poetry that i may or may not do anything with.

~

This Life, This Death

We deserve to love each other dramatically 

I almost lost you so spectacularly,

You nearly lost me the same,

We should have known then, the cosmic nudge inescapable,

Irreversible, impossibly obvious,

But we were too scared, too scarred,

The universe was done screaming to oblivious ears

Well, now I know, and I know you’ve known.

I think the least we deserve is to love each other 

as dramatically as we lost each other

We deserve to love each other quietly

We almost lost each other so quickly,

My own stupidity overtaking me

You never believed in the universe

I ’d forgotten that something could root for me,

Forgotten that someone would love me for all I was

And the universe was sending signs to a man 

with his eyes shielded behind the hand

Of his past, of his sleeve-worn heart.

And to a man scorned, scarred, unsure,

Now I see, and I know you’ve seen.

We deserve to love each other quietly, 

Just for us, all that we need,

Our family: we three

We deserve this love, this life.

~

tagging @panevanbuckley @heartbeatdiaz and who ever wants to share for fuck it friday now probably :) sorry if you've already been tagged.

[blackholelynn]

His Salvation - Part Seven

<- Read Part Six

Summary: You have left your old life behind and started over with Dean, but you soon realize that you know almost nothing about the hunter you now live with.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Nightmares, aftermath of grief/loss, description of suffocation, swearing - these warnings are for the series of parts as a whole, so while some of these warnings may not apply on this part, they will apply for future parts.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: It's finally finished! I'm not going to pretend that I have any excuse for not posting the final part of this, but it's done! Not exactly a happy ending, but who knows?

Series Tag List: @leigh70

Dean Winchester/Jensen Ackles Tag List: @siospins2

Supernatural Tag List: @hobby27

Also cross-posted on my AO3 account, you can read it here!

~~~

Dean woke up with his entire body screaming in pain, which wasn't unfamiliar to him. What did surprise him was the white and slightly scratchy hospital linens clinging to him. In his haze, he felt the irritation of the IV in his left arm and moved to promptly remove it, not thinking of the aftermath.

A gentle hand rested over his, one he recognized and trusted, and immediately he stopped what he was doing. "You need to leave that in. You lost a lot of blood."

"You're still here," Dean said, more to himself than to you. His jaw was slack in awe, and the relief was making his eyes glassy.

You squirmed under his gaze, ducking your head to avoid it. "I wasn't going to dump you at a hospital without making sure you were okay. Not when it was my fault you got hurt."

"Sweetheart, you're why Sammy isn't preparing a hunter's funeral for me." His hand reached for you, and you didn't shy away from his touch for the first time in a while. You weren't sure who needed it more – you or him. He cupped your cheek, running his thumb along your cheekbone. "You did good."

You leaned into his touch, feeling a few errant tears escape. "No. I didn't. I froze, and you nearly died because of it.”

“But I didn’t.”

Even though he was right, Dean’s words didn’t soothe the guilt that was starting to fester deep inside you. Would any of this have even happened if you hadn’t left the bunker? If you hadn’t gone with them in the first place? The thought of the alternatives terrified you more than anything, and you stood up from the chair by Dean’s bedside, pacing to release some of the anxiety.

“But you might next time. I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can,” Dean insisted earnestly. He sat up in bed, grimacing with the effort, and looked at you imploringly. “Look, you were right. I shouldn’t have been treating you like a kid. We can start going on hunts together, and Sammy and I will show you the ropes. Trust me–”

Tears started to stream down your cheeks as you crossed your arms, shrinking in on yourself. “Dean, I don’t even know what I want anymore! I mean, I ran off with you without a second thought, like I was some…some Disney princess! Like you were my prince charming that would make all the pain disappear, but that’s not how this works. That’s not how any of this works, and I can’t stay.”

“What are you saying?” His voice broke, a vulnerability that was rare for him to show. It broke your heart, but you knew what you needed.

“I’m saying I stayed to make sure you were okay, but I’m leaving. I have no idea who the hell I am anymore, and until I figure that out, this isn’t going to work.”

And then you turned and left the room in a rush. He called out something after you, but all of your senses were completely wrecked as you scurried away from yet another problem. A contentious voice inside you scolded you for not being able to have a conversation – the adult conversation that needed to be had – but it wasn’t something you were capable of at that moment. You felt like you were crawling out of your skin.

Sam was pensively sitting in the hallway, and when he saw you leave the room, he quickly stood in your way to try and talk to you. “He’s awake?”

“Yeah,” you answered simply, trying to go around him.

But he stopped you by gingerly grabbing your arm. “Woah, what’s going on? Did something happen in there?”

“I just…” Your brain stuttered, trying to find the words to explain what had just happened, but it couldn’t put anything together. The only thing you could do was look up at Sam in sad confusion, starting to cry even harder. You desperately wiped at the tears running down your cheeks in an attempt to stay somewhat composed, but it was an exercise in futility.

“Okay, let’s just take a moment,” Sam offered, guiding you to one of the chairs in the hallway. He sat beside you and attempted to comfort you as you cried, one hand on your back to try and ground you. Once it seemed like you’d be able to speak again, he asked, “Is everything okay?”

You quickly nodded as you pulled yourself back together again. “Yeah, I’ll be okay. I have a favor that I need to ask you, though, Sam.”

“Of course. Anything.”

“Take care of Dean for me?” When you saw the confused expression on Sam’s face, you added, “I’m not going back to the bunker.”

Sam stilled for a second, processed what you said, and offered a small and understanding smile. “Okay. Do you mind if I ask you one question first?”

“Shoot.”

“I’m not asking this to try and convince you to stay. I just want to know: are you sure?”

It was the first time someone had asked you that question, and it hadn’t been accusatory. Just a genuine question coming from a place of concern. So you thought about it.

The last few months you had spent with Dean crossed your mind. All the good memories came first, like the movies you had watched, the nights you had shared, and the few times you had left the bunker to have “proper” dates. But those times weren’t the only ones. The nights you had shared were soured by the constant nightmares. All the times you spent with him in the bunker were plagued by the grief that followed you like a dark shadow. You remembered those few dates fondly, but you also recognized the terror of being outside those concrete walls.

You returned Sam’s smile, although yours was more forced. “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve got a lot to work through, and I need to do it on my own. I don’t know how yet or what I’m going to do, but I know that’s where my focus needs to be.”

“Alright,” Sam conceded, standing up from the chair. “Then I’m guessing this is goodbye?”

“Yeah,” you answered as you stood. “I’m sure I’ll see you guys again, though, so don’t forget about me.”

Sam chuckled at your teasing tone and pulled you into a small hug. “Never. You’re welcome anytime.”

It was a warm moment that broke up some of the despair of the most recent events, but as always, those moments come to an end. You returned the hug briefly and, after that, left the hospital. You didn’t turn back, tried not to even think about turning back, because you knew that your resolve wasn’t strong enough to go through with it if you didn’t go all in.

Sam stayed in the hospital and entered Dean’s hospital room to evaluate the aftermath. He only found his older brother staring off into space, looking lost. It was clear that the loss Dean had been so afraid of had just occurred, and to make matters worse, he was part of the reason it had happened.

The younger Winchester took your place at Dean’s bedside, clearing his throat to get his older brother’s attention. “She just told me.”

“She’s gone.” It was a resigned statement, not a question. Dean finally came out of his stupor as he met Sam’s eyes. “Did she say where she was going?”

“No, she didn’t. I don’t think she wants us to know, and you know what, I think that’s for the best. You’ve gotta let her go.”

Normally Sam would expect a fight from Dean after he said that, a barbed remark meant to make Sam back down, but all he got was Dean limply lying back in the hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was resigned more than anything, and that was almost worse. There was no further discussion of the issue. Not when he was discharged from the hospital, not when they arrived back at the bunker. The remnants of your stay in the bunker lingered for a long time, only serving as a reminder of the forbidden topic.

“I told you to make sure she wasn’t in the room when Urdr got there,” Naomi chastised, standing up from her desk chair.

Castiel stood in front of her desk, but it was clear that he was somewhere else – practically a shell of his former self. “I was unaware that she would be there so quickly.”

“That is unacceptable!” Naomi snapped. When she realized how emotional she was becoming, she straightened her blazer and rolled back her shoulders, letting out a deep exhale. “This was the only way we could get the Norns on our side, and after making a deal with us, we got one of their sisters killed. You can see how this is an issue, correct?”

“Yes.” Castiel’s response was robotic. He had been conditioned in every way to obey Naomi, and she couldn’t have been happier with her handiwork. A grisly means to an end.

Naomi sat back down and smoothed her hands over the clear top of her desk. “Then I will have to think of alternative methods to secure our position. I just have one thing to say before I dismiss you.”

“Of course.”

“Keep an eye on our ‘bait’ to make sure she doesn’t ruin another one of our plans. I’d hate to have you dispose of her.”

Castiel’s brow twitched. It went unnoticed by Naomi, but surely if she had seen it, he would’ve been kept for more conditioning. Instead, once she saw him nod his head, he was whisked back to Earth with no memory of the encounter in the first place.

Without knowing why he was drawn to go look for you, and when he found you, he only felt his guilt return. You were curled up in the back seat of yet another stolen car, holding a flannel to your chest as you cried. Yet again, another of his friends was in anguish, and while he wanted to comfort you, something told him he shouldn’t.

So he did nothing but watch as you processed all of the feelings you had been running from. And it hurt.

[thehopefulquotes]

I learned not to trust people; I learned not to believe what they say but to watch what they do. I learned to suspect that everyone is capable of living a lie. I came to believe that other people - even when you think you know them well - are ultimately unknowable.

Lynn Barber

[emilys-axford]

i know i talk about it all the time bc it’s one of my favourite lines from fantasy high but sandra lynn saying to fig “everything you’re going through is something that i get i was just like you” in light of her (most likely) being groomed by bobby dawn, with figs ill-advised interactions with older men in freshman year….. ya i’m thinking about it

[thoughtkick]

I learned not to trust people; I learned not to believe what they say but to watch what they do. I learned to suspect that everyone is capable of living a lie. I came to believe that other people - even when you think you know them well - are ultimately unknowable.

Lynn Barber

[minxinq]

[ OC ] gaia

a demon adept in mimicry who escaped from hell and slaughtered a magical girl. she wears her skin and uses dark magic to preserve the image of her host in order to trick unsuspecting victims.

age: 70000

mimic form: 5’1

true form: 12’0 (including horns)

species: mimic demon

sexuality: aroace lesbian

in her mimic form, she uses a variety of weapons to dispose of innocents she doesn’t deem “worthy” to inhabit. her favourite is the chainsaw due to its messy tendencies. being stuck in hell for hundreds of centuries and only now escaping to the surface, she is fascinated with man-made weaponry, and finds it satisfying to kill humans with their own creations.

in her true form, she has sharp misshapen teeth, sunken eyes, long thin hair, sharp horns and claws. she is not made to be comprehended by humans, so to mortals, her body is a thin, constantly altering and pulsing mass of black vines. this is used to disorient victims.

gaia’s mimicry can be identified by the blurry/muddied, almost glassy eyes of her hosts. she has yet to find a way to disguise eyes properly. this detail is almost unnoticeable to mortals, however to other demons and hunters from hell like lynne, its very easy to spot.

as gaia is a runaway sinner, she is actively being hunted by lynne. however, despite lynne’s orders, she seems to have formed a strange bond with gaia. whether it is genuine or simply a form of deceit to lure in and dispose of the mimic is unknown.

[masculinepeacock]

she's dying again.

you're pulled through a mirror with the man you love and the woman you're raising children with and her son and she's dying again. well. not quite as bad as you know it's been before but she's hurt and she holds a flaming sword.

"sandra lynn!" she calls. not even mom. "adaine!"

she sounds heartbroken. worried. destroyed.

the man who ruined your life when you were only a teenager helped this along. you know it. the teacher your daughter has been suspicious of ever since her freshman has grown monstrous. the gym floor of the very school you went to is rendering itself apart and it's littered with the bodies of children. her classmates. is she going to be one of them?

she asked you to heal adaine. the girl you've taken in as your own. you love her like your own. your own didn't call you mom.

you start to move towards adaine. "fabian!" she calls. he's down too. dying. one of the bodies on the floor. you can't even see some of the others but you hope they're alive. you have to believe they are. you can only save one.

"i can only save one sweetie!" you move towards adaine.

your daughter excepts it. she knows how this works.

she's dying. again. but at least your arrows didn't do it this time.

[perfectquote]

I learned not to trust people; I learned not to believe what they say but to watch what they do. I learned to suspect that everyone is capable of living a lie. I came to believe that other people - even when you think you know them well - are ultimately unknowable.

Lynn Barber

[lynn-reads-and-writes]

Actually trying to write again. My hope is to get the current batfam fic FINISHED in the next few weeks. Spiderverse after that. Gramander folks...I have no food prepared for you yet. Steddie Big Bang in January. ObiKin fic after that or before depends on how I feel and who comes to my house.

[littlefirefox]

“Unfortunately, you don’t get to decide if someone wants to look out for you. You’ve essentially told us that you are alone here. Forgive me for wanting to at least make sure you have some support. This Quadrant is grueling to even the most staunch of people. It will push your limits and then break them. It will change you, whether you want it or not. You need support with that, with your squadmates. And I was asking for my own benefit, you stubborn woman.” Garrick rolls his eyes.

Chapter 5 of Storm Through the Pouring Rain is Live!

(lol thankfully this chapter was ready to post but the current chapter is slow going, not gonna lie)

[zimmerdouche]

writing a fic i’m kind of proud of rn but i feel it may be too spicy for this fandom fhdhdh

[quotefeeling]

I’d rather look back and regret something I did when I was young and crazy, than look back and regret something I never had the courage to do, and realize it’s too late.

Cherrie Lynn, Rock Me