#THIS IS MY FAVORITE CHAPTER SO FAR I NEED Y'ALL TO KNOW THAT

[aberooski]

Back at Bowser's castle, Chazz and Peach come fact to face with Bowser again, Bowser learns a piece of the Star Rod has been reclaimed by the sibling quad, and Chazz accepts a new friend in a very low place.

[a-b-riddle]

Part Six

Can't stop thinking about reader finally giving the boys a taste of their own medicine. And hurting my own feelings in the process of it all. I wanted to make this a baddie reader chapter, but its just a saddie reader chapter. I played Down Bad by T.S on repeat while writing this. Y'all need to thank @blueladys-world for being my ventor for this part.

None of them came the next day to pick up the box of everything you had collected. By everything, quite literally everything. Birthday cards and gifts. Keepsakes from your time together they had given you. Even going as far as returning lingerie they had given you. You didn't want any trace of them in your home anymore. You were gonna have to work hard in rebuilding it to be your safe space once again.

You were surprised that someone from the expo had DM'd you. Renée was an author who had tried to stop by to your stand, but got too caught up in the day. She was in London, working on her next series installment and wanted to pick your brain. Writer to writer.

The two of you agreed on a time. She had mentioned wanting to try this restaurant the last time she visited and you already knew you would be putting that meal on a credit card. It was a bit of splurge, but after the past week you deserved it. You could even wear that sexy black number that had been collecting dust in your closet.

By the time you were done getting ready and squeezing into your dress, you looked more ready for a date than dinner with a colleague.

A colleague. You had a colleague!!!

The knock on the door pulled you from your girlish glee. You didn't need to guess who it was. Your friends knew to text you before they came over and Renée had agreed just to meet you at the restaurant.

It was one of them.

You didn't even t bother looking through your peephole before you opened the door to find Johnny standing there with a floral arrangement of your favorite flowers.

Johnny began to speak, afraid you were going to shut him down immediately no less. But no words came out. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking you in.

A vision.

You wanted to snap at him that your eyes weren't located on your hips. But damn if it didn’t feel empowering seeing Johnny’s gaze gloss over.

"Fuck me." He swore, gathering his bearings before realizing you were dressed. In a sexy black dress and heels and makeup and oh, fuck you were going out. "Where are you going?"

"First off, none of your business," you said holding a finger up. "And secondly, what are you doing here?"

"Listen," "Bon-"

"The box is right there." You said pointing to a large cardboard box on the floor. "That's everything."

"If you just let me make it-"

"Up to me?" You cut him off again. "I'm over it. Really."

"Just give me a chance."

"Either you haven't spoken to the other two to know I am well and truly done with this situationship, or you’re hoping some half-ass apology and flowers will let you get a last fuck in and the skedaddle. So hopefully if it was latter, hopefully the former answered that for ya.”

So if that's all you came here for, I've got to get going. My reservation is at seven and it's rude to keep a friend waiting."

"It's been a week and you're already going on a date?" He accused.

"Who said anything about a date?" You didn't outright say it wasn't. Where would be the fun in that? “It's just dinner with a colleague.” You didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t a date. But you didn’t need to say it was a woman. “Hardly a date.”

“Look at the sight of ye!" He said, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at how deliciously your ass filled that dress. “A fookin’ dinner with a colleague. Like one of us would show up to a briefing like that.” You opened your compact. Not needed in the age of cellphones but loving the feminine touch.

There was something so... seductive about using a compact mirror to apply your lipstick.

“Kyle does have the legs for this dress.” You said, applying that lipstick he loves. That same shade that looked beautiful on your lips. The same lipstick you would mark all over Johnny’s body. “Believe what you want. Not my problem anymore.”

You put your compact back in your purse along with the lipstick in case you needed to reapply it after dinner.

Johnny's eyes zeroed in on your lips before his eyes met yours. That's when you felt it again. That undeniably spark of chemistry that you had with him. With all of them. That feeling that sucked the very breath from your lungs and for a moment all you could see was the man in front of you.

"Bonnie," he said placing his hands on your neck. His thumbs stroking your cheeks softly. "Just one more chance." He begged, his voice breaking. "I'm a fucking git, but I won't let you go again. I won't leave." You knew that when it came to promises, Johnny had proven that even if he didn't mean to break them, he had forgotten he made them in the first place.

But in that moment you didn't care. Even after everything, Meredith was right. You had loved them. Everything else had ended so shitty. John had blamed you. Kyle had only shown up until it was too late. And Simon. The last time you would ever hear his voice was after he said such cruel things to you.

No.

If you were done with Johnny, you won't let the last time he fucked you being a quick, rough fuck doggystyle before leaving you naked and alone in your bed.

No. The last time with Johnny needed to be good. It might make it harder to finally leave, but you needed this. You needed to know that he could still make love to you and not just fuck you like an animal in heat.

"Johnny?" You asked. Your mouth dangerously close to his. "I don't want you to fuck me."

"I don't have to," he said, starting to take a step back to give you some space before your hands reached his. Holding him in place.

He can't let you go. You couldn't let him go. Not yet. Just one more. You needed just one more time to get him out of your system. The closure you needed.

"Make love to me." You begged, your eyes pleading. "I need to know that I wasn't just something you wanted to fuck." You don't move as his eyes search yours, looking for reassurance. When you nod, his mouth softly touches your own.

His hands travel along your body, but never fully leave you. Sliding your neck to your back. Pulling your body closer to his. A hand placed on your hip so tightly he's afraid you might disappear.

There's no rush, no haste in his touch. His mouth not eager to devour you.

He's slow. With his hands, his tongue. Even when he picks you up and walks to your bedroom with your legs around his waist.

He doesn't throw you on the bed.

Not this time.

He lays you down. His body laying on top of yours. His hand skimming along your bare thighs, but not daring to travel any higher.

But damn you needed him. You wanted love making, but if he didn't get inside you soon, you weren't sure you could let him go after this. You weren't sure you would be able to leave.

"Johnny," you whimpered, pulling away from his mouth. "Please." You took his hand, putting it between your thigh. Aching for any friction.

He obeyed without hesitation. If you told him to get on his bark, he would in that moment. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you.

"Got to get you out of this dress first." He resting on his knees before he began to slide the black satin from your thighs to your stomach. You maneuvered, helping him undress you leaving you in nothing.

"I thought you liked the dress." You couldn't help, but tease. Your hand finding its home on the back of his neck, pulling you to him once more.

In a tone lacking any note of humor and in all seriousness, he looked at you. Really looking at you. Taking in how your smile reached your beautiful eyes before he said, "I want you bare to me when I take you."

You felt your stomach flutter at his words before he began to take off his clothes.

He joined you again. His body relaxing when they got between your legs again. His mouth traveled from your exposed neck to your nipples. Sucking and flicking them with his tongue until your back arched. Pressing harder into his mouth.

Your hands tangled in his soft brown hair before you boldly guided him to your already dripping core. He slid down your body before his hands began to push your knees apart until you were fully expose to him.

With your knees bent, Johnny settled on his stomach, placing soft kisses on your soft inner thighs. God, did he love seeing you squirm. He smiled at your tortured expression before looking down at your sex. "There she is." He said before placing a kiss on your pussy.

It wasn't sloppy. He wasn't diving in and licking at your center like so many times before. He was kissing it just as tenderly as he kissed your mouth. Slowly building it deeper and deeper. Adding tongue. Breaking away to readjust his head.

The delicious ache between your thighs began to become to unbearable. "Need you inside me." You panted. "Johnny-"

"Shhh." He soothed. "Got to warm you up first , Bonnie." He said before slipping his finger inside of you. One was all it took before your head settled against the pillows again. When your body relaxed, he added another. He would need to add three to make sure you were good and ready.

His digits stroked that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. "You're barely fitting around my fingers." Johnny was a good 6 inches in length, but the girth is what always did you in. It hurt to take anything past his head into your mouth. If you fucked him without any preparation, especially after a week of no sex, he would tear you into too.

His tongue caressed your clit, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your first orgasm creeping up on you.

"Johnny." You moaned, your fingers running through his soft brown hair.

"Give it to me, beauty." He panted. "Come on my face. Squeeze my fingers, Lass." He begged before his mouth went back to you.

It was like lightning. Your body now sensitive after being forsaken for so long. Your vision blurred and before you could process it, Johnny was sitting on his haunches between your legs, stroking his cock.

You could only nod, dazed and barely keeping a grip onto the reality of what this was.

The end.

He leaned forward, his cock nestling against you. You knew this was going to be nothing compared to his fingers. "Tell me if I need to stop."

You smiled, mockingly. Reminding him, "Not our first time together, Johnny." just our last.

"You were wrapped tight around my fingers." He gave a half smile before kissing your forehead. The gesture like a knife twisting in your heart. "I just don't want to hurt you."

"I'm ready." You brought your legs around his waist again. Pulling him to you, your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouths meet.

He presses into you. The head of his cock sliding inside just one or two inches. You body contracting around him in a small spasm. He swallows your moan and lets you adjust. He pulls away before looking down where the two of you meet.

"I could die like this, Lass." He said, his breath coming out unsteady as he tries his best to control himself. So close to just burying himself inside of you to the fucking hilt. "Seeing you like this is this first thing I want to see when I make it to the other side." You let out a choked cry as he pushes deeper inside you. Another inch. And another. And another until you're taking all of him.

He slurs something that sound like "fuck", but you are in too much of a daze to care. You arch into him, trying to get closer.

His thrusts are slow and deep. His pubic bone brushing against your clit making you whine and squirm. Begging for more.

You're not sure how long he had fucked you like that.

You needed it to stop.

You couldn't handle it. The softness. His words.

I could die like this, Lass.

Your lip quivered as you told him you wanted to be on top. You needed a moment. A chance to create a bit of space before he shattered your world yet again.

He pulled out. His absence already making you ache for him again before he settled beside you.

You squatted above his cock. Your feet flat against the mattress as you grabbed his hardness and slipping it inside of you. The sound you let out was pornographic. A high pitched, soft moan slipping from your lips as he buried himself inside of you again.

You placed you hands on his chest. Using the leverage to ride him. Your arms serving as barrier for you to get your bearings.

You used his body just as he had used yours. Throwing your head back, you moved faster and faster. Readjusting so your hands went from his chest to his stomach, giving him a better view of your connecting bodies.

His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing against your clit, and you tighten even more around. A needy whimper coming out of your throat. The sound mixing in with the sounds of his labored breathing and slapping skin as he begins to fuck up into you.

Even though he had been doing all the work for the last several minutes, you felt the tension start to creep into your calf.

"Fuck fuck fuck." You screech, barely able to hold yourself up any longer. "Ow." You hissed as the cramp took hold.

"Leg cramp?" He asked, not even faltering in his thrusts. You pathetically nod before he takes it upon himself to flip you on your back again.

"I'm going to do this every chance I can." He promises, pressing a searing kiss onto your exposed neck. "Any chance you'll give me." You can't take it. His words, his mouth, his fucking cock. It's too much. "I'm going to show you how much I want you. How much I want to fucking worship ye. Do anything to make you feel good. Not going to leave you again like that, Bonnie."

You reach for him again, pull him into a searing kiss just to shut him up. You need him to shut up. You couldn't take his false promises. You wouldn't survive it. Couldn't.

"Shit." His thrusts quicken, his thumb returning to your swollen bud. Flicking it in a way he had crafted into an art. He buries his face into your neck and you know he's getting close.

You weren't too far behind.

He didn't want to come, not yet, but this was fully out of his control. It was pathetic. A week without sex and you had him nearly coming in the first ten minutes.

But that's what you want. To see him lost in the idea that you would stay.

"Johnny." You groan out. "Please. Cum inside me."

He draws fast, beautiful circles around your clit that immediately push you over the edge. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing him like a vice as you come in strong waves, continuing to push inside you.

in out in out in out.

Deliciously clenching around him tighter and tighter until he can't take it anymore.

"Fuck," he says again, and you see it in his face, and you see it in his face, the second it's all over for him. You want to sear the image in your head. Keep it there forever. Knowing you'll never see it again. The way those enchanting blue eyes squint nearly shut before closing in complete ecstacy.

His mouth would open. A moan caught in his throat that he isn't ready to let go.

His hand closes around your hip, holding you to him while he presses as far as he can go, and it's only then do you feel his cock twitch in quick, jerky movements. He moans out your name before taking your mouth into a searing kiss.

"I fucking love you." He says. "So fucking much."

He was still under the blanket when you returned from the bathroom. You picked up your clothes up from the floor. Looking at the clock realizing you had less than five minutes to get out the door before you would be late for dinner.

"What are you doing?" he asked. You couldn't look at him. Hearing the panic in his voice almost made you stop. Tell him it really was just dinner with a colleague. A woman. That you would be back. Beg him to wait until you came home.

"I can't cancel on the dinner." You said slipping your feet into your heels. "This was a mistake."

You weren't sure why you said it. You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. If you wanted to hurt him or make him think you regretted it when you would truthfully do it again. You would do it again and again. You would never stop.

Like Johnny, you could have died in that moment, but for a completely different. Where he would be content, you would be saved from the pain. The pain currently coursing throughout your very soul.

"Lock the door behind you." You say as you practically sprint out the bedroom. Only slowing in your stride to snatch your purse off the kitchen counter before running out. The door slamming behind you.

The restaurant was nicer than you expected. The wine alone was the price of an entree. You didn't seem to be phased at all and were relieved when Renée insisted on picking up the bill.

Your dinner had been delicious and the conversation even better. Renée wrote fantasy romance and wanted to pick your brain about a Why Choose. You had nearly spent out the over priced wine you weren't even really enjoying. Oh the irony.

"It's like all the rage now, but it's hard to make more than one appealing as the love interest. You should have seen the Goodreads comments on my last book. So many people bitched about my FMC not ending up with a character who was quite literally her adopted brother."

"So," you took a breath trying to find the words. "I'm going to be honest. I only read your latest book and I loved Luka. But I can't compare him to other MMCs you've written about so I don't know if they are similar or different. But what I can say is that I'm seeing like this trend of MMCs where they are all this dark-haired, brooding or mysterious character who dislikes mostly everyone and is only soft for either a select few or only the FMC."

"I think if you are going to write a Why Choose you need to think of guys you wouldn't mind falling in love with." You couldn't help, but think of what drew you to your boys. "One could be the leader. Someone who isn't afraid to have his neck on the line. To make sure everyone else is taken care of and being strong enough to handle the stress of that. He would be big on words of affirmation. Lifting the FMC up. For me, it would be someone that I know will take care of business. He's confident in his decision. That confidence would extend to me." You clear your throat. "If I was the FMC, that is."

"Okay." She nodded, pulling out a pen and notepad. "You don't mind if I-"

"I don't write about polygamy." Crossed that bridge. Currently trying to burn it. "So feel free."

"Another could be the one who it's so easy to fall in love with their charm. The one who falls to his knees. Wanting to worship every inch of her. The one who makes her laugh. That one to make her forget about the sadness that creeps into her bones. The one to hold her whenever he could. He's about quality time and physical touch."

"So different love languages." She said, her pen quickly scribbling.

"Yeah." You said, leaning forward. "Then there is the gift giver." Your mind went to Gaz. Most of the gifts and trinkets in the box sitting by your door had came from him. He had gotten you new earbuds when yours broke. When you were being harassed at your gym, he had bought you and him a membership at a different one. "The one who would give her the world if she asked for it. If you're going with a high fantasy then maybe the one to take note of something at a market that the FMC had been eyeing and he bought it for her. Just someone who takes notice like that."

"So acts of service would fall with all of them then you think?"

No. Simon had been the one who probably spent the least amount of money on you. He didn't praise you like John. He didn't even try to attach himself at your hip like Johnny.

But if you needed something fixed, he would come fix it himself. He'd be damned letting a strange man into your apartment. And alone? Fucking forget about it. The one who hated any sort of cardio activity outside of fucking you, but didn't hesitate in attempting to keep up with you when you wanted to go on a run and get some fresh air. If you needed something done, he didn't pay someone else to do it. He did it. If you wanted to do something, he made it happen. He made you safe.

You couldn't bring yourself to say explain it. Your eyes begin to itch. Warning you to think of something else.

So instead you just told her yeah. That they would all commit acts of service. And even in your hypothetical explanation of characters that haven't even been written yet, Simon was still the ghost among them.

"Lucky fucking girl." Renée said setting down her pen.

"Yeah." You said, downing the rest of your wine.

You walked home. The cool crisp wind feeling like it was whipping your exposed skin. It was soothing as the ghost of Johnny's touch still seemed to burn you.

You had hoped that you would get some closure, but you just felt hollow. You came twice and still manage to leave unsatisfied. Johnny wasn't malicious... he was Johnny. He wasn't like the others. Simon would never apologize and John and Kyle wouldn't try to keep reaching out after you told them know once.

Johnny couldn't stand you being mad at him. He never could. He would beg and beg for your forgiveness. You didn't regret fucking him one last time. He needed to know that you were well and truly done. There was no going back from this.

"Hey, Love!" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice coming from a source you couldn't see. You perked up, quickly scanning the dimly lit street before your eyes settled on a cluster of shadows just across the street. "Yeah." The slurring voice said again. "Talking to you gorgeous!"

You resumed your trek home. Now picking up your pace. "Don't be like that! Where ya off to?" The voice followed you. You kept your gaze straight. You were three minutes away. Three minutes and you would be at your building.

Three minutes.

Three minutes.

"What's the rush?" Another voice joined the cacophony. "Just want to have a chat."

You turned. They were maybe twenty feet away. You kept your eyes glued to them as your started to make a run for it.

You had made it about ten feet before your body collided with someone. Firm hands gripped your upper arms, steading you as you threatened to fall back.

You sucked in a breath of air, ready to scream when you looked up. It was too dark to make out the man's facial features. He was tall. His head eclipsing the street lamp just behind him. You shook beneath his hands. The voices behind you now silent.

"Keep walking." You didn't need to see his face. You knew that deep timber voice anywhere. He released you from his grip before letting you pass him.

"Just wanted to have a chat." You heard one of them try to reason. "No harm done."

"No harm done yet." Was the last thing you heard Simon say before you broke out into a full fledged run.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 1: I Need You Now But I Don't Know You Yet

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!Reader, Reader POV

Summary: With a birthday printed on your wrist that happened over a hundred years ago, you always thought that you were cursed to never meet your soulmate. But when you finally meet the man that's supposed to be the other half of your soul, you wonder if the stars were wrong, and wonder how this man was meant for you. Reader is Hughie's sister, is not a supe, and is a Literature Professor that gets dragged into the middle of things. This fic takes place in an AU set loosely after Season 3 and does deviate from the plot of The Boys

Tropes: Soulmate AU, Little bit of Grumpy and Sunshine, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Jealous Ben/Soldier Boy

Warnings: Self deprecating thoughts, Little bit sad, Cursing, Mentions of drinking, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Death, Loneliness, Longing, Basically the reader just wants to be loved, Reader wears glasses?, Soldier Boy might be a little OOC.

Word Count: 6.3K

Song Inspiration For Chapter: IDK You Yet (Title of chapter based on song) Y'all should listen to this song because it fits so well!

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue Is in First Person And Is In Italics

A/N: Guys you have no idea how excited I am about this story! It's already shaking up to have a TON of my usual angst, but I'm not surprised.😅 I'm also a little disappointed. I read a soulmate AU fic forever ago for Joel Miller where the birthday was printed on the reader's arm and I cannot for the life of me remember what it was called or find it. If y'all know what it is, please let me know. I'd love to read it again and give the writer a little bit of credit for inspiration. ❤️

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

January 24, 1919

The date on your right wrist haunted you, the bold black numbers mocking from the moment you learned what they meant. It had to be a celestial mistake, a misprint, something wrong in the stars that shone so brightly over others, but dulled above your head.

Sometimes you thought you were cursed, that some mystical being before your birth marked you, scarred you, and made you carry the weight of the whole world on your shoulders.

That whoever it was made you different on purpose and you hoped one day you understood what that purpose was.

You'd never met someone born with the same dilemma, to be saddled with a soulmate that was born over 100 years ago, and yet here you were.

You'd heard it all growing up, the hushed whispered "freak" from your schoolmates, the odd looks from your neighbors, the pitying frowns of your parents who had known each other since pre-k, and the hug from your older brother as he whispered the familiar phrase “it‘ll be okay" to soothe you.

But you always wondered…

When would it be okay?

You watched all your friends find their happy endings with their soulmates, the birth years printed on their wrists at least within the same few decades, but not you.

You were alone, different, cursed.

The date printed on your wrist made you different, because no one else had a soulmate that was born so far in the past.

Your soulmate's birthday brushed on your skin only brought a wave of disappointment every time you saw it, because what the hell did it mean? 1919? That meant that your soulmate would be over 100 years old when you met him, whoever it was.

If you even met him.

No one lives that long. My soulmate should be long dead. He can't still be alive. Can he?

Each year that passed was like another nail in the coffin, but you celebrated the birthday of your supposed soulmate with a cupcake and a beer, locked away in your apartment to shut out the jeers of those who knew your particular dilemma. And each year when you blew out the candle you wished that it would be the year you met him, but now you weren't sure it would ever happen.

Because it was impossible.

You didn't understand why you were different, why you were chosen to have a soulmate that was long dead. Maybe it was true, maybe you were born late, born under the wrong sign, or maybe you really were cursed.

You'd heard the stories of people who never found their soulmates, urban legends really, but it didn't make you feel any better. The stories of people who wasted away to nothing, driven to the point of insanity because they never found the other half of their soul, alone for as long as they could stand it before they finally crumbled to dust.

You refused to be like them, turning to books for solace and hoping to escape. Slipping into the pages and into other worlds where people found their other half to leave the loneliness that haunted you behind.

And in that solace your found your true love, literature. It wove around you and brought you peace in a world where you felt lost and different.

When you moved away from the small town you grew up in, you got a job as a Literature professor, reading the great works of others, while trying to forget about the date on your wrist and the soulmate you longed for each day.

It was incredibly lonely to think that you'd live your whole life with only one half of your soul.

Every time you opened a book from the era your soulmate was supposed to be born in you wondered if he had read it, wondered what it was like to live in that time, and imagined what it would have been like to be there with him.

Each day you covered up the date on your wrist with a splash of foundation and playfully laughed it off whenever someone asked you if you'd found your soulmate yet. All the while spending year after year fading just a little bit more as you lost the last pieces of hope that you'd ever meet him.

One Year Ago

You were running late. Frankly you were always running late, but in the city that never sleeps it was to be expected.

It was supposed to be a big day. You had about a hundred papers to grade, a test to proctor, and three lectures to give, but you couldn't complain about your job, you loved it. Loved the groans of your students whenever you announced a test or an essay, loved the soft evenings where you read papers with a cup of tea and learned what in the assigned text was special to your students, and loved to teach from the books that had become home to you, the books that tried to heal your wounded heart.

But today something was different.

Something nagged at the back of your mind, as if you had forgotten that something else was supposed to happen today.

Haircut? No that's not it.

You think as you walk to the large wooden desk in your living room/bedroom. It was technically a dining room table, breakfast table, and your desk, but you'd loved it since the moment you found it tucked into a corner of an antique store in Brooklyn.

Your small studio apartment was quaint, the bedroom and living room divided by a large mid-century wooden screen that you had bought for twenty bucks at a thrift store the weekend you moved into your apartment five years ago. The living room only housed a plump cream colored couch that faced out the window towards the living room window that gave you a spectacular view of the alley between your apartment building and the next. Sometimes you got to watch the couple in the apartment across from you having a terrific fight and then got a front row seat to the loud make-up sex they had almost immediately after.

Large stacks of books dominated every wall stretching up as high up to the ceiling as they could reach, some were pressed against the exposed brick walls, others serving as the base for the coffee table you’d made with a vintage window, and of course there was one stack that towered high above your bed on top of your bedside table.  You didn't own a tv, not when you spent most of your time reading.

Being a English professor meant that you could never have too many books not when they were like old friends that pulled you in whenever you opened their yellowing pages.

Meeting with the head of the English department? You bite the inside of your cheek as you shove your notebook, planner, pencil case, and laptop into your leather messenger bag. No, that's on Thursday.

You'd been working on a research paper that you hoped to publish about the Modern Period of Literature in America, but the head of the English Department wanted to see how much you'd done. In all honesty the only reason why you'd started studying the Modern Period of literature was because it was supposedly the time period in which your soulmate grew up and you thought that it would give you some insight into what his life was like. 

And despite your being an expert on that time period, the head of the English Department did not share your enthusiasm for it. The only thing the head of the English Department had any enthusiasm for was his self-published book of erotic poetry and staring at your legs for too long while making subtle attempts for you to sleep with him even though he was married.

You fight the wave of revulsion with the memory of the last time you had a meeting with him and give yourself a once over in the mirror hanging on the bathroom door that faces in to your living room. You looked the way that you always did, maybe a little more frantic than usual, but that was expected given the fact that you were running late.

Today you had decided to wear your favorite dark green chunky sweater that you'd knitted yourself, a dark gray argyle midi-skirt, chestnut brown ankle high-heeled leather boots, and your traditional pair of circular black-rimmed glasses.

It's going to be a good day. You smile at your reflection. Yeah, if I could remember whatever the hell it is I've forgotten.

You roll your eyes and grab a bagel from the bag on the counter.

No time to toast it.

You think mournfully before shoving it between your teeth as you run out the door, slamming it behind you so hard that it rattles the watercolor botanical framed prints on the inside wall of the apartment.

"Late again?" Your neighbor, Mrs. Charleson, asks opening the cheerful yellow door of her apartment.

She was wearing her traditional pink cat eye glasses and had her wavy gray hair pushed back by a floral headband. When you'd moved in five years ago, she had brought over some cinnamon swirl muffins and a pot of blueberry tea. She'd just lost her own soulmate and husband of sixty-five years and was looking for a friend about as much as you were.

And although she had about eighty cats, all of which who were named after literary figures (your own cat was named Heathcliff), and often smelled like mothballs, you enjoyed spending time with her. She knew about your dilemma and didn't judge you for it. She didn't throw you a pitying look or make outrageous comments about why you'd been chosen to never meet your soulmate. If anything she acted like the way you thought your mother always should but never did. Not with judgement as your mother did, but with concern and love.

"Always." You shout back, muffled around the sesame seed bagel, stamping your foot to get your boot in the right position.

"Tea later?"

"Mhmm."

"Get some earl gray macaroons!"

You make it down the stairs successfully without falling, before throwing yourself against the door that leads into the black and white tiled lobby. Your high heeled boots clack loudly against the floor and you step out onto the crowded sidewalks of the early morning.

Fall was just beginning in the city, your favorite season. The leaves in Central Park were turning reddish brown and yellow and there was a wonderful chill that swept through the crowded streets.

You wove through the people, walking in the direction of NYU and looking down at the antique wristwatch perched on your left wrist to confirm what you already knew- that you were going to be late for your 8:00 am lecture on 20th Century American Romantics.

Shit.

The city is lively for a Monday morning. The chatter of people on phones, the buzz of traffic, the high pitched screech of horns, and the smells of the city wafted over you. It was so different from the small town you grew up in, but you loved being here. Here no one knew you, no one judged you, no one muttered something under their breath about you, and no one grabbed their children and crossed the street as if you were contagious.

You felt free.

You round the corner still looking down at your watch, weaving in and out of the foot traffic the best you can, when someone bumps into your shoulder. Whoever hit you was solid, broad, and much taller than you. The bagel drops from your mouth as you jostle from the bump, and you let out a low groan.

There goes my breakfast.

You look up prepared to curse out the offender when you stop. Whoever it was hadn't stopped moving, but you catch a flash of his bright green eyes as he passes, meeting yours for only a moment.

But that moment seems to last a lifetime.

He was tall with wild dark brown hair so long it touched his shoulders and a scraggly beard that fell over his chest almost to his collarbones. He looked dirty,  almost worn, and was wearing a faded maroon track suit that had some writing on the sleeve in another language that you couldn't place. But his eyes were a brilliant green, so beautiful that they took your breath away.

As soon as his eyes meet yours, your skin hums, body lightening, warmth unfurling like the petals of a flower in the center of your chest curling outward reaching for the sun above. All sounds of the city vanish, leaving you only with the manic thud of your heart. Everything in your body turns towards the man, cells vibrating, reaching out, wanting more, begging you to grab him and hold him close. Electricity pulses and dances along your skin making your hair stand on end and goosebumps erupt along your flesh.

The birthday inscribed by the stars on your wrist sears against your skin like a brand beneath the foundation you smeared over it this morning. You look at him as if seeing for the first time, as if the past years of your life have been colorless, as if you'd been living in a cave for centuries and he's your first glimpse of sunlight, and as if you'd never seen the stars and he's the midnight sky.

You'd never felt any of this before.

The man's eyes widen as he looks at you, people passing between the two of you in a faceless blur, and you wonder if he feels it too.

He has to…

But the man shakes his head and turns his back on you continuing on his path down the sidewalk in the opposite direction, adjusting the strap of the bag on his shoulder as he goes.

"Wait-" You start to say, but your phone rings loudly in your pocket breaking the spell, and as you look down to retrieve it, you lose the man in the crowd.

What the hell just happened?

The rest of your day is chaotic, almost a blur, your body still humming from seeing that man on the street, wrist aching where the birthdate on your wrist burned against your flesh so hot that it seared through the foundation you brushed meticulously over the skin this morning to cover it up. It was no longer black, but flashed a brilliant gold with every shift of your wrist in the light as you moved your arm when teaching, peeking out beneath the sleeve of your sweater. Every flash distracted you from your lecture. Even your TA, Tate, who sat in the front row of your class began to notice how often you lost your train of thought.

You barely got through your 8:00 am lecture, stumbled through you 9:00 and 10:15, and canceled your 2:00 class much to the chagrin of your students who were expecting a test.

When Tate finally asked you if you're feeling alright, you wave a hand and tell him to take the rest of the day off, while you barricaded yourself in your office and stared at your wrist for hours, running your hands over the golden date confused. The birthdays always shone gold after two people found one another, and when your soulmate died, it went back to black, as if a reminder that the world had faded.

It was weird to see it shine so brightly when you'd lived your whole life staring at the mark and wishing for it to go away.

But he's not here, he's gone. I don't know where he went or how to find him…

Your friends back home described finding their soulmates before, tried to explain to you what it was like when they locked eyes with them for the first time, but everyone was different. No one could describe exactly how they felt when it happened.

Deep down you thought that it should feel like what happened when you locked eyes with the man on the street, like nothing else existed, just him and you but-

He acted like it was nothing like I was just another person and not the other half of his soul.

You swallow the lump in your throat, emotion from a lifetime of disappointment building, and finally the tears begin to crest and fall over your cheeks. You'd never heard of a one sided soulmate before, of only one person feeling drawn to the other one.

Then again, I've never heard of someone printed with the date of a soulmate who was born so far in the past.

Seeing him for the first time was like taking a bullet to the chest, the sharp spike, followed by the force of gravity jolting you into reality.

But why him?

You think again about how weathered he looked, like he'd been living under a rock for the past hundred years. And then you see the flash of his brilliant green eyes again in your mind, just for a fleeting moment, but it's enough to make the warmth trail along your skin, like the soft caress of a lover.

Was he really born in 1919? Or was this just another joke? Another way for the universe to laugh at me?

Frustrated tears blur your eyes as you stroke the birthdate on your wrist, heart breaking all over again, because it seemed that even if you had found the man the universe designated for you, he didn't care.

One Year Later: Present Day

You sigh loudly and hold up another dress in front of your body looking at yourself in the mirror. You had no idea what you were going to wear to Annie and your brother Hughie's housewarming party and you only had about another thirty minutes before you had to leave.

Your brother had been living in New York longer than you had, but he still made time for you. The two of you got lunch every week and it was your fault that he met Annie.

Meeting her yourself had been a complete fluke. You'd been sitting at your favorite bench in Central Park by the pond, reading your favorite book, allowing the gentle prose of the author to whisk you away for a few minutes, when someone sat down beside you and promptly began to cry.

And when you asked her what was wrong she'd told you everything about her problems at work and although you'd never been the best at comforting other people, you'd taken her to the closest coffee shop and the two of you had bonded over Chai Tea lattes.

You'd invited her over to watch a movie with your brother one Saturday night and then had a front row seat when the two of them realized that they were meant to be together. You'd tried to be happy for them, but the whole time Annie gushed about Hughie and Hughie stared at her like she was the last glimpse of the sun before it dropped below the horizon all you could think about was that it would never happen to you.

And now one year later, the two of them were finally moving in together in a fancy apartment uptown and you didn't want to imagine what the rent was. Your own studio was enough for you and you were lucky enough to have one that was rent controlled.

But you figured due to Annie being one of the Seven, she was probably making more than your measly teaching salary could ever amount to.

Learning that she was Starlight had been surprising, you weren't a supe, not even close and you didn't want to be. You had your hands full with teaching college kids, and didn't want to think about what it would be like to have superpowers or really what you would do with them. You certainly didn't need them to be a teacher and you didn't want to have them.

Plus, you always worried that you'd get some weird power like shooting webs out of your butt or making it rain blood. You didn't want to take that chance and shooting up Compound V felt like Russian Roulette.

You also worried about your brother working so closely with supes. The two of you hadn’t met any growing up and you worried that he was putting himself in danger every day when he went out to deal with them. But you were happy that Annie went with him, because you knew that she wouldn't let anything happen to him, she loved him too much.

As you hold up a black dress in the mirror you see a flash of the golden birthdate on your arm, and you're unable to fight the emotion that builds in your chest when you do.

It had been a year since it happened, since you locked eyes with a complete stranger on the street and felt your soul intertwine with his and he turned his back on you.

You'd understood that.

Understood that for some reason he decided to turn away like you meant nothing to him, like you weren't the other piece of his soul, and like a part of him didn't call out to you, a lighthouse over a stormy sea to a sinking ship.

It had broken you more than the first time you realized what the date on your arm meant. It always seemed ridiculous that something that brought happiness to millions of others made you feel broken, like there was something wrong with you.

And in that moment on the street something felt right for a few seconds, you felt whole for the first time in your life, only to have everything dashed against the rocks all over again.

But you hadn't forgotten him, couldn't forget him. His green eyes haunted you and each night you dreamed of him.

You saw pieces of his life, his memories, felt his pain, his anger, his frustration, and deep down his fear whenever you fell asleep. You'd never heard of that before, of a soulmate dreaming the memories of another.

You'd asked your neighbor, Mrs. Charleson if she had dreams of her soulmate's memories, she'd said no, but then she said that she'd heard about it, thought that it was only a myth, but it meant that the souls were fated to spend more than one lifetime together.

As if you knew what that meant.

It had broken your heart even more when she said that, because if that were true why did he turn away?

How could he turn away? Why did he leave me standing in the street and acted like I wasn't his other half?

It made you think that maybe he wasn't impressed with you and that he was disappointed that you of all people were his soulmate.

You'd had a mental breakdown at Mrs. Charleson's apartment when you went home early the day you met your soulmate or whatever the hell he was.

She'd made blueberry tea and rubbed you back. And when the tea hadn't worked she had cracked a bottle of red wine and ordered greasy takeout food that the two of you ate on her floral couch while her cats circled like sharks looking for a piece of your chicken and broccoli.

You would have called Annie, but she and Hughie were out of town on a long weekend getaway.

And when you went back to your apartment and crashed into your bed, you'd dreamt of him for the first time.

The memories you'd seen when you closed your eyes that night were not happy at all. You'd seen the early years of his life being berated by his father, years of him drinking and fucking his sorrows away, and then the worst, him being tortured in what looked like a lab. He was a supe, that much you could gather from the memories. But they were filled with pain, suffering, frustration- you'd never met someone who'd been through so much before. Endured so much torture.

You still didn't know his name, didn't see enough of his life to figure out who he was, only that he was different than you in almost every single way. The memories were terrible, filled with blood, death, and pain. It scared you to see your soulmate that way, see him so angry and see him hurt and kill people. You couldn't imagine the kind of man he was, the kind of man who could burn someone beyond recognition and feel absolutely nothing.

It was confusing. You didn't understand how someone who was supposed to be the other half of your soul, was the complete opposite of you. Someone that was filled with so much rage and pain was the man the stars declared was for you.

It doesn't matter anyway. He saw you and didn't want you.

You ignore the lump of emotion in the back of your throat and hold up a navy blue dress, but you hang it back in your closet with a sigh. Nothing seemed to be appropriate for you to wear to the party and you hadn’t been shopping for a new outfit in ages. Not to mention you knew that no matter what you wore Annie would look flawless.

You loved your brother's soulmate, but sometimes you were intimidated by how pretty she was and how together she was. It made you a little self-conscious about the long skirts, sweaters, and blazers you wore when you were at work and you were not together at all.

You seemed to always be running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, frantically running from place to place and trying not to lose the last bit of sanity you had left. While Annie was confident, poised, and glided into each room.

Finally, you reach for a pair of your favorite blue jeans and the same green chunky knit sweater you were wearing the day that you saw him for the first time. The sleeves were long enough to cover the mark on the wrist. You hadn't told your brother or Annie about that day and you didn't want them to see the golden date on your wrist and ask you where your soulmate was.

Guess I'm going a little more casual today.

On your way out you give your cat, Heathcliff, an affectionate scratch behind the ears and grab your purse. You were running a little early this time, early enough to pick up a Snake Plant around the corner at your favorite plant shop, 'Please Don't Die,' as a housewarming gift and then stopped at the liquor store next door to grab a bottle of Annie's favorite wine.

You figured that you'd end up staying late and drinking wine with her long after the party was over.

Hughie opens the door of the apartment when you knock. "Thank God you're here! Annie is freaking out and driving me up the wall-"

"No I'm not! I'm just expressing all the things that have to be done within the next five minutes or I really am going to go crazy!" You hear his soulmate shout back when Hughie lets you in.

The apartment is fancier than yours, all white walls and glass windows that display a view you would kill for. Your brother is wearing a nice light blue button down shirt and navy tie, and his hair is it's usual fluffed and curly self. He looks happy and it warms a piece of your heart because you knew how much that he deserved it. And that's all you wanted for your older brother.

Annie appears, wearing a white dress that wraps over one shoulder and falls to her ankles, effortlessly elegant as usual. It made you feel self-conscious that you'd worn jeans, when Annie was wearing something that made her look like a Greek goddess.

"I am so underdressed." You mutter to yourself

"No! You look great babe. I love those jeans on you." She smiles pulling you in for a hug.

"Well-"

"But please let me do something with your hair." Annie touches the messy bun at the back of your head making a face.

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"Nothing, I'm just going to spruce it up a little bit for you."

"But-"

Annie pulls the bottle of wine and the plant from your arms and shoves them at Hughie. "We'll be right back." And with that she drags you to their shared bedroom.

20 minutes later your hair has been perfectly curled and styled by Annie's skillful hands. She'd even adjusted your make up so that now you're wearing a bold red lipstick and a dark eyeshadow that matches your ensemble. And even you have to admit that you look better than you did moments ago. You usually didn't wear that much makeup, sometimes it made you feel like you weren't you, but what Annie had applied seemed stylish.

"Thanks Annie."

"Of course." She smiles brightly and leads you back out into the large kitchen filled with stainless steel appliances and real marble countertops. "How have you been? Did you finish that paper you were writing?"

By now several people have already begun to gather at different parts of the apartment, talking quietly with one another, while sipping drinks and eating finger food. The sound of their chatter is masked by the Billy Joel song playing from the speaker in the corner.

"Yeah. I submitted it, now I'm just waiting for the department head to read it." You frown at the thought.

"You don't think he'll like it?" She moves to the freezer to grab a bag of ice.

"Dale doesn't like the modern period of literature as much as I do so I'm expecting him to have a lot of critiques and reasons why he doesn't like it." You take the bag from her and set it on the counter.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. I'm used to it. He's never ecstatic about my research work." The thought makes you frown. "Even though he knows it's my specialty and the reason why he hired me."

"Isn’t he the creepy married guy that keeps trying to take you to dinner and wrote all those sensual poems about women who sound nothing like his wife?"

"Yep."

"Ew." Annie's face scrunches up in disgust.

"My thoughts exactly." You sigh looking around the kitchen for an ice bucket. "Do y'all have an ice bucket somewhere or-"

"It should be in that cabinet." She points behind you just as you hear someone knock loudly on the front door.

"Perfect."

The ice bucket is acrylic, see-through, and light pink, but you find it easily. The ice clanks against the sides as you pour, not bothering to watch Hughie open the door for whoever it was that hit the front door of the apartment with so much force you thought it would cave in.

Annie leans against the counter pouring herself a glass of wine and groans to herself when she sees who Hughie was greeting.

"What's wrong?" You ask her, your tongue between your teeth as you try not to spill any of the ice over the perfect countertops.

"I didn't think he would come." She grumbles.

"Who?"

"Ben." Annie all but sighs the name.

"And why didn't you want him to come?" You ask, pouring more ice into the bucket.

"He's just kind of rough-"

"Rough?"

"He works with Hughie. He's a supe. Thinks he's the best thing since sliced bread or whatever.” She sighs again and takes a sip of her white wine to calm down. "Actually he used to be Soldier Boy."

"Soldier Boy? You mean the supe from the 80's that died?"

Hughie didn't tell me he had a dead man working with him.

"It's a long story." Annie waves her hand as if to dissipate the thought, but it doesn’t make you any less curious. "Now he works at the bureau with Hughie trying to keep supes in check. Usually he and Butcher bump heads."

"Oh."

Hughie didn't talk much about what he did with Butcher, or really who he met, but after Homelander disappeared and Stormfront took over as leader as the Seven more supes began to come out of the woodwork, supes that had been afraid before, but now had no one to keep them in check. And although The Seven were feared in the city, no one was feared as much as Homelander.

"I'm sure that he won't try anything Annie. And if he does I'll keep him in check." You smile at your friend.

It's her housewarming party and supe or no if he's a prick I'm going to kick his ass out. Annie doesn't deserve to feel stressed today of all days.

"Thanks babe."

"What are friends for?"

She squeezes your arm and walks away to talk with MM who stands with a little girl who must be his daughter. You'd only spoken to him a handful of times, but he was always eager to talk about her achievements in school. He was so proud of her that it made your heart warm. Her mother wasn't his soulmate, but there hadn't been any hard feelings between MM and his daughter's mother.

That wasn't unusual. You'd known several people who decided to date other people before meeting their soulmate as a way of passing the time. You'd always thought it was ridiculous to commit yourself to someone else and fall in love with them, only to have your heart broken when they met who they were meant to be with.

It was why you hadn't tried to date anyone, because you might have never met your soulmate, but the other person you'd be in a relationship with would. And you didn’t want to give your heart to someone only to have them leave you when they met their other half. Which meant that you were probably going to die alone, especially because your soulmate doesn't want you. It hadn't helped that you'd seen a few memories from your own soulmate with other women over the years, women that didn't look anything like you, women that seemed more confident, more beautiful, and more stylish than you.

Maybe that's why he didn't want me.

Your feel the familiar twinge in your chest when you thought that and fought the tears that burned when you thought of how happy Annie and Hughie were. You didn't want to cry at their party.

The familiar question rises in your head again:

When will it be okay?

Probably never.

You turn toward the freezer holding the now half-full bag of ice intent on putting it back when someone bumps into you. The bag slips from your hands and ice goes skittering across the perfect hardwood floors in every direction, but just when you start to drop to pick it up, you feel a large hand grip your shoulder.

A gasp escapes from your mouth as it makes contact.

As soon as the palm touches you, you feel nothing else, not the shift of the sweater against your skin, not the slight chill from the air conditioner, not the brush of your hair against your cheeks, all you feel is the warmth radiating through your clothes and soaking into your skin from the person's hand.

The hand moves to cup your chin gently, the shock of the person's skin touching yours makes the feeling increase ten-fold as the hand tilts your face up to meet the eyes of the person who bumped into you.

You know it's him before your eyes meet his, know that it's the man from the street who you saw for only a few seconds a year ago, but this time when his beautiful green eyes meet yours everything you felt that day comes roaring back.

He's taller than you remember, shoulders proud and broad stretching a dark gray button down shirt over his chest that have the sleeves rolled up revealing tanned arms. His hair is shorter, still dark brown, but now only long enough to cover the tops of his ears and his beard is shaved so that only a thick dusting covers his cheeks, but it's still him. And he's more handsome than any version you could come up with in your mind.

All sound in the room vanishes, the drone of chatter fades, the clinking of glasses disappears, the only sound that remains is your own heart thudding in your chest and you swear you can hear his beating at the same frequency, both of your hearts calling out to one another.

Your entire body feels like it's vibrating, as if every cell is moving so fast that they're heating you from the inside, leaving behind a molten puddle of what you used to be. A golden cord weaves around the two of you securing your heart to his in your mind, making you gasp as it hooks to his heart binding his soul to yours. Time stops as he gazes at you, something brightening in his green eyes as they absorb your own gaze.

The man doesn't move. It almost looks like he's stopped breathing, and you realize that you haven't taken a breath since he touched your shoulder. His eyes drop down to your right wrist where your hand rests over his heart, where he knows his birthday will be.

You don't remember reaching out to touch him, but now that you realize it, you can feel his heart beating beneath the palm of your hand like a fluttering bird, gentle and judging by the memories you had witnessed from him, nothing about this man was gentle.

"I've been looking everywhere for you sweetheart." The man rumbles, the words vibrating against your fingertips where they rest against his muscular chest. He smiles down at you and somewhere deep down you feel something break open that you thought was locked away long ago.

And as you stand there looking up at the man you thought you'd never see again, the autumn sun warm against your back, you feel a flicker of something that could grow into a blaze spark to life in your chest.

A/N: I hope y'all loved the first chapter as much as I loved writing it! I've never written a soulmate AU, so I am a little nervous about it, but I think that it's going to be a lot of fun! And yes, I did give Ben the same birthday as Dean Winchester (not the same year). In my head Ben is Dean from a different universe, and it just made sense to me. 😂

Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 😊 If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know! :)

Taglist:

@pamwritessometimes @roger-that-cap @my-obsession-spn @deangirl96 @kr804573

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[stevie-petey]

episode one: the vanishing of will byers

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you.  “So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?” Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead.

Summary: jonathan smuggles you free food in exchange for friendship, will goes missing the one time you listen to jonathan, hopper doesn't really like you, and steve harrington almost hits you with his car as you're sobbing like a damn baby (in a cool way).

Rating: general, although there's plenty of cursing and slight innuendos, so fair warning.

Warnings: cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.

Words: 7k

Before you swing in: hello ! this is the first chapter of my come home series, where i plan on rewriting the entirety of stranger things because i really love a good rewrite fic and this is me just indulging in my ideal fic fantasies tbh. before we start: this is a steve x reader fic, however there will be some slight feelings between the reader and jonathan, but it doesn't at all get in the way of steve and honestly just adds to the angst because i love a good tragedy. also, reader is dustin's older sister, but i tried to write her as neutral as possible in terms of physical features, so let's all just play along. that is all ! i'm very excited for this series and i hope y'all enjoy the reader as much as i do :)

-

November 6th, 1983

Your shift at Bookstrordinary ends at 8:30 tonight, so as soon as you’ve organized all the books within the store and cashed out the last customer, you say goodnight to your boss, Mrs. Waters, and clock out. Today had been a longer shift, and it didn’t help that you had to deal with a particularly eager bookclub mother who insisted that you had the latest copy of some obscure novel that she needed for her club. After several attempts to inform her that no, you really didn’t have some novel about a cowboy falling in love with a rodeo girl from Michigan, nor would you ever want to read that, the mother angrily walked away. 

You’re happy to finally be free from work though, excited to see Jonathan to tell him about the book club mom because you know he gets a kick out of those suburban middle class mothers that terrorize Hawkins. He works across from you, at The Hawk theater, and it’s one of your favorite things about the bookstore. Besides getting to be surrounded by books all day and reading Spider-Man, you get to be across the street from your best friend and share frequent breaks together. 

A bell signifies your arrival at the theater, alerting Jonathan to look up from the concession stand and smile at you. He looks tired, which you can understand. It’s been a particularly long school year so far with Jonathan having to work more shifts than usual to support his family. 

“Welcome to The Hawk, can I interest you in our specialty popcorn and candy corn mixture?”

You make a face, “No, thanks. Candy corn freaks me out.” 

Jonathan laughs, knowing you’d say that. It’s been a running joke between the two of you for as long as you can remember. You’re not picky with most foods, but candy corn? The bane of your existence. “Tough crowd, then.” 

You laugh as well, now standing in front of the counter, and you learn against it so that you’re in Jonathan’s space. After being friends for so long, personal space doesn’t exist between the two of you. You’re the only person that Jonathan lets get this close to him on a regular basis, which you’re secretly proud of. 

“So, you almost done so we can pick up our idiotic brothers?” Tonight, as usual, Will and Dustin are at Mike’s house playing DnD. They’d biked over as soon as school let out, while Jonathan drove you to work, so he was your ride back for the night. 

He shakes his head at you, wincing, “I picked up an extra shift tonight. Stacy called out sick, and it’s good money…”

You nod in understanding. He doesn’t have to explain himself to you, which he’s always relieved by. 

“It’s okay. Is my bike still in your trunk?” 

“Yeah, I can get it out for you since I’m kind of ditching you tonight.” 

You wave him off, already reaching across the counter to grab his keys from his coat pocket. “No need, I’ll get it out myself so you don’t get in trouble with your boss.” Jonathan’s boss is an older guy, extra scary. “I’m assuming that I’m taking Will home tonight?” 

“It’ll be late by the time you get the boys, and you’ll have Dustin. We only live a couple blocks apart, you can just bike with Will until you get to your street.”

“Are you sure? I know he’s scared of the dark.” 

“It’s fine, Y/N. You’re already doing enough being there for most of the ride; I’m sure Will can survive the last five minutes alone.” 

You give Jonathan an unsure look, but you don’t argue with him. He’s his brother, he knows Will’s capabilities, and it’s an unspoken fact that you baby Will a bit too much. He’s just so much tinier than the other boys, softer in a way that you want to protect. He’s special. 

Jonathan sneaks you a large peach lemonade and hot dog from the concession stand when you return with his keys. You’ve parked your bike up front, and you accept the food gratefully. You hadn’t had time to eat your usual dinner during your break due to the bookclub mother fiasco, so you inhale the food quickly and give his hair a ruffle. 

“You’re a lifesaver, bee.” 

Jonathan lightly hits your hand away from his hair. “Consider it your payment for dealing with Will and Dustin on your own tonight, bug.” 

Bee and bug were the names the two of you had given each other years ago. Jonathan had started it with bug, stemming from the fact that you love Spider-Man so much, and you had struggled to come up with your own nickname for him. Then it came to you: bee, or B, for Byers. It was perfect, and you’re still incredibly proud of yourself for the creativity, honestly. 

After your quick dinner, you say goodbye to your friend and head off. It’s late now, nearing 9, and you hope that Mrs. Wheeler and your own mom won’t be too upset with you for being late for pick up. You know they prefer to have the boys in bed by a decent hour, but in your defense, Jonathan did skip out on you.

You arrive at the Wheeler’s in a short amount of time and knock on the door. Your cheeks are flushed from the early November cold, and you’re regretting that you only put on a thin sweater and jeans this morning.

Mike answers the door, giving you a dirty look. “Did you have to come early?”

“I’m actually later than usual,” you sidestep him, making your way into his house; you’ve become used to Mike’s attitude. “I take it the campaign is still ongoing?”

“See, mom? Even Y/N understands how long a good campaign can go on for!” Mike waves his arms at you, as if to signify to his mother the importance of your understanding. 

Mrs. Wheeler ignores her son to greet you kindly, albeit a bit exasperated. “Hello, Y/N, please come in.” Then she turns to Mike, giving him a stern look. “Mike, why don’t you tell Y/N how you boys have been playing for ten hours? I’m sure she’ll be understanding then.” 

“You guys have been playing for ten hours?”

Mike looks down in embarrassment for a second before turning to his father for help. You laugh a bit at his enthusiasm and see a faint smile on his mom’s face as well. Quietly you excuse yourself to go downstairs to find the other boys, and Mrs. Wheeler wishes you luck. 

Everyone always acts like the boys are some giant pain; truthfully, you enjoy them. Sure, they can be a handful, but they’re just kids; it’s hard for you to ever stay mad at them. Plus they like you, so it makes dealing with them easier. 

Lucas, Dustin, and Will are running around the basement when you get down there, frantically searching for something. You hear Lucas inform Will that if Mike doesn’t see something, then it doesn’t count. The urgence in his voice amuses you; you’ll never fully wrap your head around why they take DnD so seriously, but you love that they can enjoy it with each other. 

Dustin is the first to see you. “Y/N!”

The other boy’s heads turn to you and they greet you with enthusiasm as well. Will rushes towards you for a hug, which you gladly accept. When you break apart, Lucas gives you a high five and asks about a comic you’ve put on hold for him at the store. 

“Any luck?”

“Sorry, Sinclair. It’s still sold out, but the second it’s restocked I’ll smuggle one for you.” 

“Sick!” 

Dustin walks over, now in his coat and holding a pizza box. “Want a slice?” 

You decline, informing him that Jonathan snuck some food for you. At the mention of his brother’s name, Will asks where he is. You tell him that Jonathan had to cover a shift and that you’ll be taking him most of the way home tonight. 

As you all make your way upstairs, you notice that Dustin continues up to the second floor. Lucas notices too, and the two of you share a knowing look. 

“Still have a crush on Nancy?” You ask, already knowing the answer. 

“Yup.” Lucas responds, smiling in disappointment. 

You wait for your brother outside, helping Will with his coat and listen to Mike’s rambling about the campaign. Lucas is already on his bike, ready to go. 

“There’s something wrong with your sister.” Dustin declares when he finally returns.

Mike looks at you, then at your brother, confused. “What are you talking about?” 

“She’s got a stick up her butt.” 

“Dustin!” You berate. Nancy isn’t your favorite person, but she’s always been nice to you the few times you’ve interacted. You guys used to be closer when you were younger, but high school has a way of distancing people.

“Yeah,” Lucas now speaks up. “It’s because she’s been dating that douchebag, Steve Harrington.” How the hell does Lucas even know about that? You didn’t even know about that until just now. 

“Lucas! Language!” 

“Yeah, she’s been turning into a real jerk.”

“Dustin, I swear to God-” 

The boys ignore you, which you’re honestly not surprised by. While they may like you, that doesn't mean that they listen to you. On a good day they maybe listen to you 25% of the time, but tonight was clearly not a good night. 

Mike finally cuts in, “She’s always been a real jerk.”

“Hey, she’s your sister. Give her some credit-”

Dustin is now the one who cuts you off. “Nuh-uh, only you get the sister leniency, Y/N. Nancy used to be cool, now she isn’t.” 

“Remember that time she dressed up as an elf for our Elder tree campaign?” Lucas asks, almost reminiscent. 

You shudder at the way he says it, and you shudder more when you see the dreamy look in your brother’s eyes. “Yeah, I remember…” 

“Gross,” you huff at your brother, now hopping on your own bike. 

Lucas and Dustin begin to pedal away, and you call after them to wait up. Will is still with Mike, and you promised Jonathan you’d get him home. You give the boys a bit of space, waiting a few paces ahead. Will has always been shy around Mike, something that you’ve tried not looking into too much, but to be safe you give them some privacy. 

Faintly, you hear Will say, “The Demogorgon, it got me.” 

Lights flicker a bit, but you’re too focused on the slight unease you feel by Will’s words. Before you can think too much about them, he joins you. “Race you up to Lucas and Dustin?”

“You’re on,” you tell him. 

Will beats you to the boys (which you let him do), and you’re out of breath. The four of you bike in silence for a bit until you reach Lucas’s turn into his neighborhood. 

“Good night, ladies.” He says, and you don’t need to be a psychic to know what your brother’s response is going to be.

“Kiss your mom ‘night for me.” Bless him.

You and Will giggle together, and Dustin smirks at the two of you, proud. He sits in the praise for a few moments before challenging you and Will to race home with the promise of a comic for whoever wins. 

“I call last year’s Black Cat issue of Spider-Man!” You call out, already biking away from the boys. 

“We didn’t say go!”

Dustin and Will call after you as they try to catch up, and within a few seconds the three of you are speeding down the hill towards your home. You laugh gleefully, enjoying the way the wind whips through your hair and the way Dustin, though annoyed by your early start, laughs alongside you with Will. 

Somehow Will is the one who wins the race, which you’re impressed by. He may be small, but he’s surprisingly good at winning when it comes to a competition. Dustin shouts at Will that he’ll kill him, which makes you send a warning look at him. 

“I’ll take your X-Men 134!” Will retaliates, still flying through the street. 

You and Dustin are now stopped at your mailbox and you take a moment to catch your breath before shouting at Will, “Be careful, please! Stay safe!”

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night. Dustin has already gone inside but you wait to follow, only going inside when you can no longer see Will, hopefully home safe and sound. You feel fear creep upon you, but you chalk it up to your usual worry when it comes to the boy. 

He’ll be okay, Jonathan should be home within the hour. 

– 

The next morning you’re frantically biking to school, pissed off at Jonathan. He’s your ride every morning, or everywhere, really, and for the second time in 24 hours he’s bailed on you. Dustin left for school ages ago on his bike, so you’re thankful he doesn’t see you embarrassingly sweaty and gross as you race to school. 

It’s not that you’re pissed that Jonathan bailed again, you’re pissed because he didn’t even have the nerve to call you ahead of time to warn you. Now you have only ten minutes before the first bell rings, and your sweater clings to you uncomfortably as you sweat. 

You make it to school with a few minutes to spare, so you quickly make your way over to your locker to grab the necessary books for the day. You’re still sweaty, and you don’t want to even think about what your hair looks like right now. You look down the hall towards Jonathan’s locker, still not seeing him, and you begin to worry a bit. Maybe he overslept after last night’s shift? 

A body crashes into yours, sending your notebooks spiraling to the ground. Steve Harrington looks at you sheepishly, only saying a small “whoops!” before continuing his fast pace towards the girl’s bathroom. You scoff, now even more annoyed with your entire morning, picking up your stuff as you see Nancy enter the same bathroom a few moments later. 

“In a public school bathroom?” You mutter in disgust, collecting the last of your things and heading to class. 

You decide to give Jonathan until second period, sophomore English which the two of you share, before you freak out. You know you have a problem with over worrying about the people you love, so you try to calm yourself down. While Jonathan has never been the type to cancel without at least calling first, you reason with yourself that everyone has a bad morning. He simply slept in too late. When he wakes up, he’ll come to school and he’ll be sitting in the seat next to you in English. 

Except Jonathan isn’t in the seat next to yours when you enter the classroom an hour later. Now you officially let yourself begin to worry. Something about this doesn’t feel right. 

You’ve never skipped class before, school has always been important to you. You’re the top of your class with hopes of running away from Hawkins with Jonathan to a big city with an even bigger university. However, you don’t even hesitate to flee the classroom and find the nearest phone in the school to call the Byers’ residence. 

Jonathan answers after a few rings, and the words that leave his lips change your life forever. “Will is missing.”

You feel all the air in your lungs be knocked out of you. You can’t breathe and you sway a bit as your knees threaten to give out. This isn’t real, this can’t be happening. 

“What?”

“Will, he-he’s gone, Y/N. We can’t find him and-” 

You don’t hear whatever else Jonathan says. You struggle to get air back in your lungs. Will isn’t missing, you just saw him last night. Mere hours ago Will laughed next to you, face alive with joy, he hugged you and joked along with you. 

“He didn’t come home last night-”

“He didn’t come home?” Jonathan’s words catch your attention and you feel bile rise in your throat. Will didn’t make it home last night. You were the last one to see him, and the realization crushes you; it’s all your fault. 

“Mom and I just searched the woods, and there’s no sign of him and-” Jonathan is rambling now, his own fear and despair clear in his voice. 

“Jonathan,” you force his name out, now needing to be there for your best friend. You can worry for Will in your own time, right now Jonathan needs you. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” 

“Y/N, you don’t-”

You hang up before Jonathan can argue with you and stumble towards the exit. Your limbs feel heavier than normal, and your ears are ringing. Will is missing. He’s so small, he’s scared of the dark… You left him alone in the dark. 

The bike ride to the Byers home is a blur. You don’t remember much, your body going on autopilot the second you hopped on your bike. You’re running on pure fear and adrenaline right now, too worried for your boys to focus on anything else. 

You don’t bother to knock when you arrive, instead you let yourself in. Joyce is on the phone, arguing with some woman named Cynthia. Your eyes find Jonathan’s, who is sitting on the couch hunched over something. You walk over to him and sit down beside him and your stomach lurches when you see the words “have you seen me?” he’s so neatly printed out on a piece of paper.

“Bee…” you exhale, voice cracking a bit. 

Jonathan doesn’t say anything, but you know him as well as you know yourself. He doesn’t want comforting words right now. You take his hand into yours and lean your head against his shoulder. Worry has made his muscles tense, but you feel him relax into you a bit as he rests his own head against yours. The two of you sit like that for a moment, taking in the comfort you bring each other. 

“Bitch!” Joyce slams the phone down, causing you and Jonathan to jump apart. 

“Mom,”

“What?” Joyce is a mixture of both rage and anxiety, and you feel awful looking at her. Her son is missing, you can’t imagine what she must be feeling right now.

“You have to stay calm.” Jonathan tells her, his voice firm but kind. You know it’s taking everything in him to be as stable as he is right now; he’s putting on a front for his worried mother. You squeeze his hand, hoping it conveys the support and love that you need it to.

He squeezes back, and you see Joyce finally recognize that you’re there as well. She sends you a weak wave, which you return, before she goes back to dialing and trying to reach Lonnie. Jonathan gives your hand one last squeeze and lets go, now returning back to the posters. You immediately understand that he’s doing this to distract himself, so you do the same and wordlessly help him.

You begin writing your own “have you seen me?” when Joyce once again slams her phone down. The sound makes you flinch, inadvertently messing up your writing, which you sigh at. Before you can ask Jonathan for another piece of paper, you hear a car pull up. 

Jonathan stands up to investigate, alerting his mom that the cops are here. You follow after them outside, your heart dropping when you see Will’s bike in the Chief’s hand. He ushers everyone inside, informing Joyce that he found the bike lying in the road.

“How far was it from the house?” You ask, your voice frail. 

The Chief looks at you, his nametag informs you that his name is Hopper, and raises his eyebrows. “And can I know who is asking?” 

You clear your throat, nervous under his scrutinizing gaze. “I’m Y/N Henderson. I’m close with the Byers, I biked with Will home,” your voice catches in your throat, snagging onto the guilt that has been clawing at you ever since you found out Will was missing. You clear your throat again, determined to continue. “I was with him last night. My brother and I live right off Mirkwood, a few blocks from here. He only had a few more minutes before he would’ve been home.” 

Hopper stares at you. “Mirkwood?”

“It’s where-”

“Yeah, those moron kids explained it to me. I just didn’t think someone your age would call the street that, too.” Then, as an afterthought, Hopper adds, “The bike was found a block from here.”

His words sting, but you ignore it. If the bike was found only a block from the Byers’ home, then that means that something had to have happened to Will only minutes after you last saw him. You feel the familiar churning in your stomach, wracked with guilt. 

“Did it have any blood on it?” Joyce now asks, and you’re thankful she’s taken the attention off of you. 

Jonathan sees your distress and grabs your sweater so that you fall back a bit from the cops and Joyce. “Do you need a minute?”

You can only nod, afraid that if you open your mouth you’ll either cry or throw up. He gently guides you to his room, closing the door. Once you’re alone, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight. You’re shaking harder than ever now, Will’s happy and shining face from last night keeps flashing through your mind. 

You were the last one who ever saw him.

You’re the one who was last responsible for him. 

You.

“It’s not your fault,” Jonathan whispers, his voice muffled by your hair. You’ve always loved how you fit perfectly in his arms, your height difference being just enough that he always rests his chin against your head when he hugs you. 

“I’m the last person who saw him.”

“Y/N, I was the one who asked you to only bike him halfway-”

“No,” your voice comes out louder than you intend it to, and you push Jonathan away. He lets out a confused noise as you grapple at him, forcing him to look directly at you. “I should’ve been with him, Jonathan. It’s your job to support your family, and it’s my job to help you. I have to… I have to be the one who helps you.” 

You’ve always been fascinated by psychology, and you remember reading in one of the journals about codependency; the term was used in relation to addiction, specifically alcoholism, but it had caught your interest. To love someone to the extent that their actions make you feel responsible for them, to selflessly take on their burdens to a debilitating extent, well, it reminded you of your relationship with Jonathan. 

You’ve always taken on whatever Jonathan has had to deal with, ever since you were kids, and it’s always come so naturally to you. He’s never asked you to, and sometimes the extent to which you carry his weight angers him, but it’s how you love.

It’s who you are. You’re always the one who helps, it’s what you need to be able to do. If you can’t help the ones you love the most, then what good is your love for them?

Jonathan may not know about codependency, but he knows how hard you love those closest to you. “Bug, listen to me.” He grabs your face, almost aggressively, in order to cut off your rambling. “My mom, she-she’s already spiraling and I can’t… I need you. I need you to be here, with me, right now. If I lose you too, then I-I don’t know what I’ll do.”

His words cut through you like glass. He’s right, you know he’s right, and you feel another wave of guilt wash over you. This guilt is different from the guilt surrounding Will. This is mixed with shame for allowing yourself to spiral so far and forcing Jonathan to take care of you. Joyce is clearly unwell, you can’t fathom how much he’s had to deal with today. 

You gently remove Jonathan’s hands from your face and take a step back. If you’re going to help him, you need to collect yourself. From here on out, you have to be a wall for him to lean on, a shoulder to cry on, someone who will listen to him. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Jonathan shrugs at you, now allowing a hesitant smile to cross his face. “If it makes you feel any better, it took a lot less pleading to get through to you. I’m still working on my mom.” 

The joke is foul, one that should make you feel even worse than you already do, because what sixteen year old has to plead with their mother to remind her that he’s there, too? The joke is horrible, and it’s exactly what you need to find yourself laughing, and Jonathan joins. 

Codependency can be a bitch, but Jonathan understands you in ways that no one else can. 

“You think the cops are gone?” You ask, wiping away the remaining tears. 

Jonathan listens for any sign of them and shakes his head. “No, I think we’re all clear.”

He walks out the room first and you follow after him. Joyce is standing in the kitchen, staring at the counter with a far off look in her eyes. You and Jonathan look at each other and you motion for him to go talk to her. He nods, and then you motion to the living room to indicate that you’ll continue working on the missing posters. 

Carefully writing on the posters soothes you, in a way. It’s rhythmic, providing a sense of lull that you readily embrace. You faintly hear Jonathan talking with his mother, then you watch as he leads her to her bedroom and shuts the door. When he returns he sits next to you on the couch and begins to work on the posters as well. No words are needed. 

You work on the posters in silence for a few hours until it nears 3pm. Dustin will be getting out of school soon, and you have to be there for him when he’s home. While Will may be Jonathan’s brother, he’s also your brother’s best friend. You get up and head into the kitchen, long familiar now with its layout and usual contents within the fridge, and quickly prepare the ingredients for spaghetti. It’s a simple meal, but Jonathan and Joyce need to eat. Once it’s all laid out, you return to the living room and tap on your friend’s shoulder. 

“Hey, I have to head out now to check on Dustin, but I just put a pot of water on the stove along with some noodles on the counter. I also cut up some vegetables and put them in the fridge for the sauce. Start the meal whenever, I laid everything out for you.”

“Thank you, really,” Jonathan exhales, relief evident on his face. He hadn’t even thought about dinner, which you figured he wouldn’t. 

You bend down to kiss the top of his head. “Anytime, bee. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” 

“Just…” you linger at the door, not fully wanting to leave him all by himself. “Be careful, please.” 

“Go, Y/N. I’ll be fine, I promise.” Jonathan reassures you.

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night.

It’s brief, but the flashback punches you in the gut. You close your eyes, holding onto the image of Will’s face in the moonlight last night, and when it fades you take a deep breath and force yourself to leave. 

The second you’re on your bike, pedaling away from the house, you let the sobs that have wracked against your throat all day out. It’s messy, the tears coming down your face faster than you can wipe them away. All the fear you’ve felt is now able to freely come out. It’s not the safest way to bike home, but you know that if you hold the tears in any longer you’ll collapse. You do your best to still be alert, but apparently you fail because a BMW honks at you to avoid you hitting it. 

“Fuck!” You yank your bike to the right, having no idea that you had been on the left side of the road, and topple over. The fall isn’t anything bad, but it definitely is your final straw for the day. You lay in the ditch you’ve landed in, staring at the November sky, and let the pain from your skinned knee serve as something to ground you to reality. 

“Holy shit, did I hit you?” 

Steve Harrington stands over you, a horrified look in his eyes. 

“Unfortunately not, otherwise I’d be able to sue you and get money out of it.” 

“Uh… okay?” He offers you his hand, although still very confused. “You didn’t like, happen to hit your head or anything, right?” 

You accept his help, albeit mostly because you have to, and brush yourself off when you’re up. “I’m fine. I just wasn’t paying attention, sorry.” 

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you. 

“So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?”

Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead. 

“No,” you say, now repositioning your backpack so that you can get back on your bike. “Thanks anyways, Harrington.” 

Steve continues to follow you, even after you’ve started to pedal away. “You’re welcome, random girl I almost hit!”

You’re a bit further now, and you still feel like utter shit, but his words somehow make you laugh a bit. For a brief moment, you forget about everything, so you call behind, “It’s Henderson!” 

“That’s an odd first name!” The boy shouts after you, still following from a distance. 

“Y/N Henderson!” You’re fully yelling now, a good yard away, but you can tell that Steve hears you based on the way he begins to wave eagerly, finally stopping next to his car. Faintly you understand the boyish charm that makes him so loved by all the girls in the school; you understand why Nancy Wheeler has fallen for him.

“Bye, Y/N!” It’s faint, but you swear you can hear a smile in his voice.  

The good mood that Steve Harrington inexplicably puts you in vanishes when you near your house. Nothing has changed, yet it feels as if something has shifted. Will had been here only hours ago. You spot Dustin’s bike laying on the grass, haphazardly thrown as usual. 

Dustin is just taking off his coat when you enter, immediately running over to him to pull him into a bone crushing hug. 

“Y/N!” he squeaks in surprise. 

“Are you okay?” You know you’re squeezing your brother harder than you need to, but God. He’s safe, in your arms, and you’ve now learned that not everyone can say the same about their own loved ones. 

Dustin wiggles a bit, trying to break away from the hug, but you only pull him in tighter. “Geesh, no one died.” 

Normally you’d berate him, but you embrace his snarky comments. They’re what make Dustin so unique, his humor one of your favorite parts of him

When you don’t respond, Dustin stops wiggling around and finally accepts the situation. “I love ya too, sis.” 

You giggle a bit, now pulling away. “At least mom isn’t home right now. The minute she hears about what’s happened, we’ll be on lockdown.”

Dustin’s eyes widen. “Shit, you’re right.” 

“Lan-”

“Language, I know.”

You ruffle his hair, now feeling a bit better. Dustin is still Dustin, so maybe everything will be okay. You and your brother go into the kitchen for your post school snack, and you call your boss to inform her that you can’t make it to your shift. The words “family emergency” catch in your throat a bit, and Mrs. Waters is kind enough not to push it.

Dustin catches you up on his day, informing you about Hopper questioning him and the other boys. 

You scrunch your nose at that. “Is that even legal?”

“Unsure, but it was awesome.”

“Will went missing, Dustin. It isn’t ‘awesome’.”

Dustin tilts his head at you. “Well, I bet Will is going to have a blast hearing everything when we find him.” 

His words are so matter of fact, as if he already knows that Will will be found after all. His naivety worries you a bit, but you also can’t help but indulge in his hope as well. Then you think about what he’s just said. “Wait, who’s ‘we’?”

Your brother pretends he can't hear you, miming at his ears. “Dustin-”

“What?”

“Dustin, you and the boys can’t just-”

“I can’t hear you!” He’s running to his room now with you quick behind his heels. 

“Dustin, I swear to God-”

“I gotta do homework, Y/N, bye!” He slams the door in your face. 

You sigh. There’s no getting through to him, years of being Dustin’s older sister has taught you that, so you go into your room instead. You might as well get started on the assignments you missed today, and you have a huge chem test tomorrow, so you’ll focus on that and keep an ear out for Dustin. Whatever he’s planning with the boys, you won’t let them do it alone. 

After a couple hours of silence from Dustin’s room, you decide to call Jonathan. The line rings for a while with no answer, and eventually you give up. It makes sense that he’s not answering, he’s had a long day. You hope he’s asleep, but you know him better than that. He’s probably holed up in his room, trying to distract himself like you are right now. 

A loud thud from Dustin’s room breaks you from your thoughts. Then you hear a quiet “shhh!” that sounds suspiciously like Lucas, and you immediately throw on your shoes and a jacket and march outside. 

Dustin is halfway out of his window when you arrive, and Mike and Lucas stare at you, caught red handed. 

“Guys, I think she can hear us.” Your brother says, breaking the silence. Mike scoffs at him and Lucas groans. 

You eye the three of them, unamused. “Your best friend just went missing, what the hell are you guys doing out here so late and alone?”

Dustin awkwardly finishes his descent down, finally landing on his feet with a thud. He secures his hat back on his head and goes to grab his bike. You block his path. 

“I’m serious, one of you needs to start talking, now.” 

Lucas and Dustin look at Mike, who is their unofficial leader of the gang, and he huffs. “Look, Y/N, I like you-”

“How thrilling.” You say, voice monotone. 

The boy ignores you and continues to talk. “But Will is missing, and we aren’t just going to sit around and wait. He’s our friend, we have to do something.” 

You open your mouth to speak, but Lucas interrupts you. “You’re definitely our favorite sister in the group, so you’d be even cooler if you let us go.” 

Again, you try to respond, but this time Dustin beats you to it. “Yeah, you’re like, totally cool already. If you pretend that you never saw us, that’d be great.” 

“Guys-”

“And don’t give us a whole lecture about safety. That’s all bull.” Mike says. 

“Boys!” You scream. They all fall silent, not used to you ever raising your voice at them. You’ve only ever yelled at them once or twice, preferring to be the “cool” sister whenever you can, but right now they’re seriously pissing you off. 

“Let me speak.” When no one says anything, you continue. “I’m not going to stop you guys from looking for Will. In fact, I support it-”

“You do?”

You shoot Mike a death glare, which promptly shuts him up. “Yes, I do. However, I’m not letting you guys go alone.” 

The boys all groan at this, acting as if it’s the worst thing in the world to have you tag along with them. You ignore their complaining and head over to where your bike sits against the porch. You zip up your coat, the chill from the night making you shiver a bit. 

“No arguing, or I’ll call all your moms. Ours included, Dustin.”

“Why me?”

“Look, guys. I’m proud of you for stepping up, but I’m coming with. The last time I let one of you boys go off into the woods alone…” 

The boys shift uncomfortably now, realizing how heavy the guilt weighs upon you. After a few beats of silence, Mike finally gives in. 

“Fine,” he says, pointing a finger at you. “But the second you start to freak out, you’re gone.” 

You salute Mike, hopping on your bike as you all begin to bike away. The ride doesn’t take long, since you live just off of where Will was last seen. Thunder rumbles when you all approach the crime scene, and you shudder a bit. 

“It’s going to rain, guys.” You inform them. 

Dustin looks up at the sky with uncertainty. “I think maybe we should go back.”

Mike is quick to shut down the idea, urging the others to keep going. You admire his loyalty to Will, and you figure it’s why the two of you butt heads so often. Out of the entire group, you’re the most similar to him. 

Lucas and Mike go under the caution tape first, and Dustin hangs back. You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We can go back, you know.” 

He clenches his jaw, jutting his chin out a bit. “No, Will needs us.”

Your brother puffs out his chest and follows after his friends, leaving you to take up the rear. More thunder rumbles and the rain begins to come down. You flip your hood up, thankful you remembered to grab a hoodie when leaving. 

Mike guides the way with his flashlight, then Lucas, then Dustin, then you in the back. You make sure to keep your eyes on the three boys, scared that the second you look away they’ll be gone. The woods have always creeped you out, but you push your fear down to keep them safe. 

“Will!” Mike calls out, the rain now pouring down on you guys. 

“Byers!” 

“Will, little bee!” You call out as well. He never liked when you called him that in front of the others, but tonight was an exception. 

“I’ve got your X-Men 134!” Your brother bribes, unintentionally making you laugh a bit. If Will is nearby, he’ll surely come out to claim his prize. 

Your foot catches on a tree log, and you slip in the mud before just barely managing to catch yourself. It’s getting hard to see given how dark it is and the rain surrounding you. Dustin voices his concerns, only to be called a baby, and you bite your tongue. If you defend him, he’ll only look more like a baby to his friends. 

“I’m just being realistic!” He retaliates, which you commend him for. 

“Dustin’s right, guys. It’s getting really bad out here. We’re surrounded by a ton of trees, don’t they attract lightning?” You ask, now paranoid that you’ll be struck down any second. 

“You guys are being sissies.” Lucas taunts, annoyed as well. 

You try to argue, but Dustin voices a thought that’s been at the back of your mind. “Did you ever think Will went missing because he ran into something bad?”

You think back to how Hopper seemed worried when he investigated the Byers home. From what you can recall, he suspected that Will had been running away from something, explaining why he’d abandon his bike.

“And now we’re going to the exact same spot where he was last seen, and we have no weapons or anything?”

Maybe Dustin’s right. This definitely wasn’t your best idea, and you’re regretting letting them follow through with their plan. For someone who claims to want to keep their loved ones safe, you really suck at it. 

“Dustin, shut up.” Mike voices, though he now looks a bit concerned as well. 

“He’s right, Mike.” You speak up, stumbling a bit in more mud. Your shoes are definitely ruined, now. “I was at Jonathan’s when Hopper showed up, he thinks Will was running from something.” 

The boys go quiet now, and when you’re about to suggest going home, you hear rustling in the bushes. 

“Did you guys hear that?” Mike asks. 

Your heart stops as the rustling continues and you all start to twist and turn, looking for the source of the sound. The rustling gets louder, almost as if it’s getting closer, and you tighten your hand around your flashlight, ready to use it as a weapon just in case. 

Then, the light flashes upon a little girl, drenched in an oversized yellow shirt, shivering. Her head is shaved, but her small stature suggests to you that she is indeed a girl. You all stare at her, no one saying a thing. She stares back, a terrified look on her face that breaks your heart. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper. 

Her eyes land on you; something about her reminds you of Will, and  you know that nothing will be the same again.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

⌑ thank you for reading ! feel free to like, comment, reblog, or send in an ask so we can chat <3

[ronearoundblindly]

Kissing, lighting and sleepy sex for Hideout Steve and Reader?

I am not prepared. My feels...they shall be too deep and endless. I shall try anyway.

From this dirty ask game for this AU series where Nomad Steve lets motel-employee!Reader soothe his touch-starved body. Lawd, halp me, this is about to get crunk in a tooth-rotting, put-some-pillows-beneath-you you're-gonna-faint type o' way. [y'all can't tell I drank during the eclipse today, right? I'm subtle? Cool.] MINORS DNI.

K - Kissing

ACK My heart! Or rather, there is something deeply adoring for Steve when you kiss his chest, over his heart. It makes him feel just that much more like a person who lives in this world, who belongs in this world, who will return one day to this world...

His hands are also a big one--no, not just actually big hands, but important to show love to because he uses them for such violence. Each kiss is like a little touch of forgiveness for what he's done or had to do with those hands. He appreciates the trust it takes, too, to kiss his palms, when he could easily stop you breathing (sorry, that sounds dark, but Nomad was in a dark place, okay, bad things occur to him now).

Steve loves to kiss your stomach, and it might be somewhat taboo to say, but he has a touch of that crawl-back-home-for-safety comfort thing going on when he presses close and holds your center to him. It's not a mommy kink or roleplay, per se; he relishes the connectedness of being one and curling up against you is the only non-sexual way he knows how to achieve that--like in Chapter 3 when he falls asleep in that position.

As far as leaving marks though? Steve can emphatically say 'hell no,' not on purpose. Pain is a bit, meh, weird for him because he heals so quickly. He might not even notice if you did bite or bruise him. He certainly wouldn't see it in the morning. He does not in any way associate marks with love or affection since he only ever saw them on himself after fights or on women (including his Ma) after being abused.

That is not love to Steve.

It's control, it's dominance, it's inequality, and he fucking hates it.

L - Lighting

Steve entirely defers to you on whether there are actual lights on or off. He likes to use his senses to explore and enjoy you, so without light is fine. He's just here for you.

Steve does, however,--no spoilers for Chapter 5--like ambiance such as candles or something dim and colorful. He thinks you'd look unbelievably perfect beside a sparkling Christmas Tree. He hopes to celebrate (all holidays and birthdays and everything) openly with you some day. The sooner the better.

(Except, no audience for him making love to you under those twinkling lights, please. He's staunchly opposed to that sort of thing.)

S - Sleepy Sex

So, again, no spoilers for Chapter 5, but once Steve gets comfortable with oral sex he is comfortable with oral sex, if you catch my drift.

If he wakes up first, he's on you in some way, arms and legs draped over you, kissing any place he can get to, man-handling you just enough to start something he 100% will finish. He's just...uh god, so attentive.

With the super senses and being a fugitive though, it's not often that you can wake up before him, truly, which limits or completely removes the ability to surprise him with a blowjob, but he will dreamily let you roam wherever your mouth and hands take you. As long as there's lots of contact. As much as possible really. Like lay your arms across his thighs and abs while playing with him. Maybe put your body over one of his legs and ride his foot if you need to. He must feel attached in some way. Cold, distant, or separated does not do it for him.

Here's my absolute, I-will-die, favorite thing about Hideout Steve though: when he's tired/fatigued/worn out/sleepy, he gets louder.

Much. Much. Louder, babes.

No cursing, mostly, but all the moans and groans and whining are totally dialed up. And I don't know about y'all, but I can't really think of anything fucking sexier than Nomad Steve screaming that he's gonna come.

🥵

Thank you for asking!

A/N: Here lies Ro in a puddle. She made up a man she wants and will never have.

[Main Masterlist; Hideout Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[oonajaeadira]

@jolapeno is encouraging us all to list the favorite things we've made this year. And @sixhours and @jeewrites are superlative humans and they have tagged me and I am grateful for that!

I'm not gonna lie, y'all. When I'm asked to reflect on what I've created in the fandom this year...well, "depressed" is a word I could use.

But. It's been such a lovely year in the fandom. We were treated to a Fox, a Roman general, a boy-who-never-grew-up, and a penis collector, not to mention the promise of a very flexible scientific-genius wifeguy and sneak peeks of everyone's favorite melancholy apocalypse survivor.

Thank you to everyone who was helping us keep a lookout for nasty folks and helping to combat deplorable behaviors, and thank you to everyone who did their part keeping spirits bright.

And I will be forever grateful for @pedroscouts and @pedrosummercamp ...it literally gave me something to focus on when my days were running away from me and introduced me to some really sassy and hilarious new friends. <3

Still. 2024 put me through a professional and emotional wringer. So. Here's what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna list my wins. First, we'll start with what Jo asked for!

PEDRO PASCAL CHARACTER FANFICTION

Okay. So the rules said it had to be a finished project. Playing by the rules, I would have nothing to post. Nothing. Zero. Zilch. Poop. So, in the interest of choosing joy, breaking the rules it is!

Fluffbruary Six-Sentence Ficlets - multiple I tried, y'all. I tried real hard. I got through 15! And I was making a new header for each one! And then life got real busy and I had to stop. But I have every prompt assigned and I decided I'm gonna reblog the first half and post the second half this February. I know they're not a popular series, but they make me happy, so they're getting doing!

Leave Off Your Wandering - Joel Technically, I did finish this one, since I had always planned for it to be just the four parts. But at the end of the Winter chapter, I realized it needed an epilogue, so there's another chapter coming. And it's not far off. I may finish it before the end of the year and then it will really not be a lie. But first.....

That Awooo Inside You (Part 1, Part 2) - Fink This may not qualify yet, but the final chapter will be finished before the end of the year. I have it half written and there's a chapter pic ready to go. Proof:

.

And that's mainly it. I did write some pieces for @morallyinept's spooky moodboards as well and really enjoyed that! But that's been what I've been able to do. So to combat the whomp whomp in my heart about it, I include here another list after the tags.

tagging! @katareyoudrilling @secretelephanttattoo @fromthedeskoftheraven @goodwithcheese @walkingaline

And you!

Your Favorite Things 2024 with Jo

PROFESSIONAL CHECKLIST OF 2024

(Pedro girlies can stop reading here. This is solely for me to really take account of and be proud of everything I accomplished this year, but also to let it soak in that I do not want another year like this again.)

JANUARY:

Researched, wrote, developed, costumed and constructed [solo show]

Performed [solo show] in Minneapolis for a limited group

Performed one night in an Off-Book quest slot performance

Performed [solo show] in Tuscon

FEBRUARY:

Prepared for the hellish year to come

MARCH:

Helped to develop new script for [indie company]

APRIL:

Directed new script for [indie company]

Developed, costumed, constructed and performed a short detailed piece for a fundraiser by a company I dearly love and hope to work for

MAY:

Continuance and opening of new script production for [indie company]

Both managing and guest performing in a large fundraiser show for my work

JUNE:

Performing [solo show] in Atlanta

Performing as part of a trio in a long-form improv production in Atlanta

Directing a brand new set of 5 trateau pieces for a company I dearly love

JULY:

Trateau rehearsal continues

AUGUST:

Trateau performances

Huge annual arts event that my work actually centers around

SEPTEMBER:

Travel to Sweden and Finland for work

Travel to Sweden and Denmark for pleasure (first time out of the US since 2019, so it was an accomplishment for me)

Start work on a project that will require me to direct, create, costume, design, manage, market, and help write five separate 60-mintue shows that will all perform within one week of each other

OCTOBER:

Aforementioned 5-show nightmare rehearsals and marketing continue

Performed in all 5 shows

Coordinated an 11-day pop-up market during that same week which included a complete (floor, ceiling, walls) set-dressing of a small room, while being the proprietor and coordinator of all sellers and wares

NOVEMBER:

Died a little inside

Cleaned my studio for the first time in a year

DECEMBER:

Started rehearsals for a show I'll act/sing in this spring, one that will be stress free and a fkn joy and everything that 2024 was not.

[kaleldobrev]

Vampergeist (5) — The 15 Year Problem Series

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader & Dean Winchester

Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Cursing (6x), Age Gap (15 years), Sexual tension & Vulnerable Reader

Authors Note: Only 2 more parts after this one gang! I hope y'all have been having a great time with this series so far! | It's one of my favorite universes to write for | A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | As always, thoughts are in italics and the "POV's" switch between Dean & Reader | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆

⬸ Go Back & Read Chapter 4

“Okay, I think I know what we’re dealing with,” Dean said, looking up from one of the case files the coroner had given you less then half an hour ago. He kept a strong grip on the files, his tone and facial expressions serious.

You gave him a slightly questionable look as you sipped your beer and squinted your eyes slightly. Before you had called Sam, you had done some digging and you were sure that it was a poltergeist case, as all signs of one were there at all of the crime scenes. The only couple of things you hadn’t quite nailed yet were who the poltergeist was, and why it seemed to be only targeting medical students. “Yeah, it’s a polter—”

“A Vampergeist,” Dean said at the exact same moment as you, essentially cutting you off.

Your mouth was half open, trying to process what he just said. After the case was over, you made a mental note to ask Sam if his brother said things like this often. You folded your hands, eyeing Dean, trying to keep a straight face. “What in the living fuck is a Vampergeist?”

“It’s a poltergeist that sucks the blood of its victims like a vampire,” Dean explained, his tone with slight humor in it. “Vampergeist,” he repeated, moving his hands in a gesture as if he was somehow imitating Vanna White. The smile on his face was a rather goofy one — similar to that of a toddler who told his mother a new word he had just discovered. But you couldn’t help but smile looking at him. With the short amount of time you’ve been with Dean, he had made you smile more than anyone had in such a long time.

“Vampergeist is definitely a new one,” you said, playing along with his new word. A word that you didn’t want to admit to him that you were actually pretty fond of. “Unfortunately, Vampergeists exist just as much as Bigfoot and Nessie do,” you teased.

“Vampergeists don’t exist,” he mumbled to himself, using a slightly mocking tone. You smirked, giving a quiet chuckle to yourself at his imitation of you.

Dean rubbed his eyes, feeling the eye strain starting to hit him from looking at the case files and the laptop. At this point, neither one of you had a clue who the poltergeist could be, and why it seemed to be specifically targeting medical students of all people. In his long hunting career, and in your numerous poltergeist cases you’ve worked, neither of you had ever seen or heard of one that drained the blood of its victims before; especially one that didn’t even leave marks for entry.

He looked at you, and you were biting your bottom lip; something that you tended to do, he noticed, whenever you were thinking or concentrating hard on something. He wished he was the one biting it. Fuck, I need to get laid, he thought.

You must of felt his stare, as all of a sudden you looked up from the case file and smiled at him. The way you smiled killed him. "Did you find anything?" You asked, placing the case file on the table.

"No," he answered automatically, rubbing his face again. "But what I can tell you is that I have a fuck ton of eye strain. Which means, it's time to take a break," he said, patting the table and getting up.

You weren't against a break, as the more breaks you took, the longer it took to work the case. And the longer it took to work the case, meant the longer amount of time you got to spend with Dean.

As he got up from the table, he went to his side of the bed and plopped onto it, grabbing the remote from the side table and turning on the television. "Watching tv isn't going to help your eye strain you know," you commented. "Might make it worse."

Dean scoffed. "Everything can be solved by watching some TV," he said. "Now come." He patted your side of the bed, and started flipping through the channels trying to find something the two of you could watch together.

As you lied down on the bed next to Dean, your heart started to pound quickly. You were inches away from him, and all you wanted to do was reach out and touch him. You wanted to grab his hand and hold it in yours, rest your head on his shoulder. But the more you thought about all the things you had wanted to do with him, the sadder you got. You were never going to be able to rest your head on his shoulder, or feel his lips on yours. There was no way he would ever look at you in a romantic way.

There was absolutely nothing to watch, which slightly surprised him, because even in shitty motels, there was at least one thing to watch. But the more he channel surfed, the deeper he sighed. “There’s nothing on, not even Scooby-Doo,” he said.

“Is Scooby-Doo your favorite?” You asked, looking at him, and he nodded in response.

“Yeah. Like I said before. Scooby-Doo was one of those things that was always on no matter where me, my dad and Sammy were. It was also one of the few things that I watched where I knew the bad guy was going to lose,” he explained. “Like —”

“Horror movies,” you added. “That’s why I like horror movies so much. You know the bad guy is always going to lose,” you explained. Of course you fucking like horror movies, he thought. Was there something the two of you didn’t have in common?

“Yeah, exactly,” he agreed. “That’s what I tell Sammy all the time. He says our life is pretty much a horror movie, that’s why he doesn’t like them but, at least I know in movies the bad guy loses. In our world well…”

“It’s not a guarantee,” you said, finishing his sentence for him yet again, your tone sounding almost slightly saddened. “Speaking of which,” you began, as you sat on the edge of the bed, “we need to find out who this poltergeist is before anymore students end up dead,” you said, as you walked back over to the table.

“Yahtzee!” Dean randomly called out, throwing his hands up in the air before spinning his laptop to face you. “Read the title of this article I finally found,” he said, with the biggest, impressed smile on his lips.

“David Falko’s medical instruments donated to medical museum at The University of Tulsa,” you read aloud. “What about it?” You asked.

“Keep reading, and look at the date on the bottom of the article,” Dean pointed out.

“July first, twenty-sixteen,” you said.

“And when was the first murder?” Dean asked.

“July third, twenty-sixteen,” both you and Dean at the same time.

“Son of a Bitch,” you mumbled.

“But wait, there’s more,” Dean began, holding up his pointer finger before turning his laptop back to him. “I did a little bit more digging on our pal Falko here, and fifty years ago, he murdered three of his medical students using the exact same instruments that were donated.”

“How do you explain the blood draining with no marks?” You asked.

Dean grinned from ear to ear. “I am so glad you asked.” He grabbed one of the case files that the corner had given you, and opened it, revealing the photographs from the autopsy. “Our coroner friend did miss something. See this right here?” Dean pointed to one of the autopsy photos, which was a close up picture of one of the medical students hairlines by their neck.

“That mark right there?” You asked, pointing to a small circular mark that looked extremely similar to a mole.

“Yep. That’s not a mole like the coroner thought. It’s actually a puncture wound. What Falko did fifty years ago, was he punctured the base of the students skulls close enough to their hair line so it looked like a mole and essentially, went unnoticed,” Dean explained. “Until now anyway,” he winked.

“And because he was their supervisor, that’s why there was no forced entry,” you stated, and Dean nodded. “What about the lack of struggle?”

“All three students offered to make Falko coffee, and when the students weren’t looking, Falko would drug them. So, when the students drank the drugged coffee, they would fall asleep, and that’s when he could do his handiwork,” he explained, and his explanation made your blood run cold. Not only did Falko kill three people, he did it in a cowardly way.

“It would make sense for Falko to be our guy. Do you think, and it’s a stretch here I know that, the reason that there are no drugs in any of the students systems is because he can just knock them out from being a ghost?” You knew how crazy your theory was, but in this line of work, sometimes the craziest of theories were the most logical of ones.

Dean shrugged. “Could be possible. But at the same time, even in death, serial killers don’t really change their M.O. And I can’t believe I just said that out loud.”

You chuckled at his comment. “I’m sure it’s not the craziest thing you’ve ever said,” you slightly smirked.

Dean smirked back. “Actually —” but before he could indulge in your comment, you cut him off.

“Please tell me the medical instruments are still at the college, because I’m assuming we can’t just salt and burn this guy,” you said. Both Dean and you have been on plenty of ghost cases, and rarely was it that easy to just salt and burn the remains �� there was almost always something else involved.

“You would be correct because our buddy here was cremated,” Dean replied.

“Of course he is,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes. “Alright. Well. Since we have a few hours to kill before dark, I say we take a little nap and fuel up before we steal some historical medical equipment from a prominent university.”

Dean smiled, chuckling to himself. “Couldn’t have said it any better myself.”

The rest of the morning and afternoon with Dean couldn’t have gone any quicker. It felt like the time flew by, and it was time that you desperately wanted to re-live again; which is funny because it was relatively uneventful. The two of you did what you had suggested: take a nap, refuel, and watched some tv. But during those hours with him, you felt safe and comfortable. You felt truly safe with Dean despite barely knowing him a couple of days. He was still relatively a stranger to you and yet, you’d trust him with your life if it ever came down to it.

When it came to your nap, you were the first one to wake, which you were strangely grateful for as you were able to admire the way Dean slept. He looked so peaceful, like he didn’t have a care in the world. You wanted desperately to reach out and touch him, to feel his stubble underneath your fingertips. But you had to resist the urge even though it was getting stronger with each passing second.

When nighttime had finally come, it was time to head to the medical museum at the university, and hopefully put a stop to this once and for all. But based on the information that the two of you had gathered though, you figured that Falko was done with his little murder spree, but you needed to make sure that he would never be able to harm anyone ever again. Three now, and six in total was far too many innocent lives lost.

As you and Dean drove to the university, there remained that comfortable silence that seemed to often appear between the two of you; the only sound to be heard in the truck was The Clash, but the volume was scarily low for you, as you tended to blast your music — not caring who heard. But in this moment, you felt it wasn’t necessary.

Despite the silence that you were enjoying between the two of you, you were the one that broke it. “Before, you asked me how I got into hunting so young,” you began, still keeping your eyes on the road.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Dean reassured you. “It’s not a big deal if I don’t know.”

“I want to. I trust you,” and you meant it when you said that, as trust was something you rarely gave to people since you became a hunter. You removed your hand from the wheel briefly, and touched the dog tags that were hanging in your review mirror. “See these?” You asked, and removed your hand, putting it back on the wheel again. Dean nodded. “He’s the reason I got into hunting.”

Dean looked at you, inches away from touching the precious dog tags you had refused to burn after all this time. “May I?” He asked, and you nodded. He removed the dog tags gently from the rear view and you felt your heart pounding quickly. You never let anyone touch them, and yet, you were letting Dean. “Joseph A. Baxter,” Dean read.

“Joey,” you corrected, partially smiling as you said his name. “He was my best friend and my neighbor. We were…inseparable, attached to the hip. Our parents always wondered when the two of us would start dating but, we…” you sighed deeply. “Never got the chance to.” You hadn’t talked about Joey in such a long time, and it felt almost therapeutic in a way to talk about him, but at the same time, he was someone you rarely talked about because sometimes it was too painful for you to bring up the memories of him, despite the amount of fondness and love you had for him.

You felt tears coming on, and you quickly did your best to bat them away with your eyelashes, but some still managed to escape to your cheeks. “He enlisted, and he left. Said he’d be back in no time,” you took a deep breath again. This was harder than you expected it to be. You wanted to continue, to tell Dean about him, as you felt safe enough to tell him, something you rarely felt with people since Joey died. As you were almost about to give up, you felt Dean place his hand on your thigh. Not in a romantic way, but in a comforting way. But the gesture didn’t last long, as he quickly pulled it away. But that small gesture gave you enough strength to continue.

“When he came back he was…he was dead. We got the news when an army vehicle pulled up in front of his parents house with one of those folded flags with his dog tags on top,” you paused again, but Dean remained silent. “His funeral was a week later. I was just so…angry at him. He promised…he promised he’d come back.” You didn’t fight back any of the tears now, as they were running down your cheeks. You knew you were in no condition to drive now, so you pulled over to the side of the road.

As soon as you did, you couldn’t control yourself anymore. Your body was on autopilot. You turned to Dean and wrapped your arms around him, and without hesitation it seemed, he wrapped his arms around you. He gently rubbed your back the best he could at the angle you were at, and he started humming, as if he was trying to help you calm down. “It’s okay,” he whispered on repeat to you.

⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 6

Tag List: @madzzz0797 ⋆ @dumb-fawkin-bitch ⋆ @nancymcl ⋆ @deanbrainrotwritings ⋆ @roseblue373 ⋆ @jackles010378 ⋆ @deansbbyx ⋆ @uncle-eggy ⋆ @queenie32 ⋆ @jzackles ⋆ @shy-taylorsversion ⋆ @ladysparkles78 ⋆ @zepskies ⋆ @samslvrgirl ⋆ @peachhiz ⋆ @t1asstuff ⋆ @kr804573 ⋆ @lmhf1 ⋆ @perpetualabsurdity⋆ @10ava01 ⋆ @stoneyggirl2 ⋆ @deans-spinster-witch ⋆ @littletomboy2 ⋆ @foxyjwls007 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @mrlonelycat

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[tennessoui]

kit's list of obikin fic recs in no particular order

y'all asked and i finally answered.....here's a list of fics i've read and adored this year! note that i've tagged things that i think could squick people (a/b/o dynamics, weird biology, dub con, heavy kink, etc), and i've noted the ratings (explicit, mature, teen), but i have not noted top/bottom (this list contains a pretty even split of both) and i haven’t indicated which are WIPs - take a chance! i've left little paragraphs as to why i liked the fic but i tried to keep spoilers out of them so the story can be a surprise :D

remember to leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed the fic :D

Igneous - zimriya Notes: Explicit, A/B/O dynamics, canon compliant, series!

Trying to find this fic so I could reread it was the thing that prompted me to make this list. That’s how amazing this fic is. It tears out your heart strings. It hurts. I love it. It’s soft. It makes me cry. I am never going to recover from this perfect retelling of canon. This hurts just as much as the kenobi show. I owe this author a medical bill and a thank you card. I don’t care if a/b/o isn’t your thing or omega obi-wan isn’t your thing i need you to try reading this fic i really do because it’s just honestly superb and beautiful prose and i think about some of these lines near daily. Ok, fine. Daily.

I’d Never Be Me (Without The Support of Your Loving Arms) by euryrice  Notes: Explicit

i don’t think i’ll ever stop talking or thinking about this fic, it’s up there for me….such a good take on a bond/spy au that I don’t think I’ll ever seriously try at one myself because it’d never be ‘i’d never be me without the support of your loving arms’; it’s just so well thought through. Canon lovingly applied. Kit beautifully moved and hungry for a second part of the series, even though it doesn’t even need a second part and is perfect as a stand alone. Witty banter rating: 10/10

Hooked On You by @whohatessand Notes: Explicit, infidelity, side anidala (padmé is being cheated on)

Dirty bad wrong never felt so good though; Anakin is cheating on his wife with her campaign manager. Anakin is very not satisfied with being a trophy husband, and honestly it’s so valid of him. This is so well-written that Anakin’s frustration with his life, his wife, his duties all feels very real and understandable. Does that excuse the cheating and the spit-as-lube fucking at a donor ball? Nah, but they know it doesn’t. And it ends on a very hopeful obikin note, which is my favorite

The Final Frontier of Pleasure by @jedibongrip Notes: Explicit, bp!Anakin, virginity kink (ish?)

“Just the tip” made into a very hot 2k fic wherein anakin’s definitely not a virgin anymore, but obi-wan’s gonna go along with it if it makes him happy (and means that he gets to keep touching him, god bless); note to say that all of this author’s stuff is very good!

Stars To Fill My Dreams by hidden_humours Notes: Explicit, reverse master/padawan, dark Anakin

Anakin is teetering on going off the walls insane in this fic and I am so here for it. This is just amazing. I love a padawan obi-wan and I especially love this time-travel with a twist (which I won’t spoil!); the summary even says “yeah this anakin isn’t all there” and the author is right!!! 100%!! I love it. I want to poke this Anakin with a stick. I want to push him off his metaphorical cliff of sanity. I want to push Obi-Wan off a cliff just to see what this Anakin would do. What a fic. What a goddamn fic.

Obi-Two by @virahaus Notes: Explicit, Obi-Wan/Anakin/Obi-Wan

Guys, holy shit I am so excited for this WIP you have no idea. Everything about it is delicious so far. The Obi-Wan that gets zapped back in time just before ROTS/Order 66 is living to see twunk Anakin again and he is so soft yet so commanding about it. Ben!Obi-Wan literally kills me in this fic. If there’s never another chapter, I’m begging you to read this anyway, it’s that good.

Vast as the sea, constant as the tide by @moonlightatnoon Notes: Explicit, pirate!anakin, captain!Obi-Wan

So maybe Kit’s attention was captured and held by the sea-themed title…she’s a simple lady. But this fic is absolutely beautiful.  I love the intrigue, the history, the pining of it all. My attention, much like Obi-Wan, was gently captured and held hostage by pirate Anakin and the way he’s like ‘my obi-wan <3 mine <3’ while also being a whole ass pathetic lil mew mew of a pirate. He is so possessive and fearsome and clingy and needy I love this Anakin and how much he needs his Obi-Wan. I love the ending especially! Beautifully done.

Buns of Steel by @ragnarlothcat Notes: Explicit, humor, himbos the both of them 

Put this under Fics That Make Kit Want To Join A Gym. I love the humor here (Rag has such a legendary way with a great turn of phrase and pacing of jokes that just makes the fic fly by) and the ridiculousness of it all. Obi-Wan here is extremely lovably bitchy and I adore it. His dialogue is quite polite, but this is a fic where the narration really makes the characterization pop. Also the amount of lusting after his beautiful aerobics instructor that Obi-Wan does…and how UNFAIR he finds Anakin’s beauty. Just amazing. Cheering for Obi-Wan living his best life and getting the hot aerobics instructor in the end.

My Thoughts I Confess (Verge On Dirty) by @artemisthehuntress Notes: Explicit, horny, horny, horny Obi-Wan

This is, of course, the other fic filed under Fics That Make Kit Want To Join A Gym. I love Anakin in booty shorts. I love Obi-Wan, head empty and no thoughts because his dick is too goddamn hard to see straight. One should not be exercising under such conditions. The humor here is impeccable. Love all of Obi-Wan’s fantasies with the hot guy working out next to him. If you’re a fan of horny-grip Obi-Wan, this is the fic for you! If you’re not as into horny-grip Obi-Wan, I’d say this fic is still worth the read because it’s just written so well.

just like the days we’d burn by @travellingcircus Notes: Explicit, PTSD mentions, heavy

I was always going to rec one of travellingcircus’ fics of course. They are a fantastic writer and I love their fics - especially the long oneshots that consume my entire night when I see that one’s been posted and I get to delve into a new side of obikin I could never imagine. This fic is one of my favorites by them – and maybe one of my favorite modern aus all together. Anakin has a racing career until he has an accident. Then he goes back to his small town and decides to have Obi-Wan instead because first love (I love first love fics especially in modern aus)!! Also Obi-Wan has a motorbike. This is excellent news. He also has helmet hair. I love Anakin in this fic so much. He’s crazy. He’s wounded. He’s obsessed. He’s in love. He’s desperate. And Anakin makes Obi-Wan all these things too. Such a good modern au for these characters. They feel so close to their canon characters, it’s marvelous.

Where Every Mask Cracks by skyl_tales Notes: Explicit, a spin-off of one of their other fics, but can be standalone

Skyl_tales’ fics for me are the very definition of fandom classic. They were the first fics I read and I continue to reread them roughly maybe once every year at least. They’re just all very readable. The writing style is something I have always loved and envied – their fics are approachable and entertaining, no matter how much you know or don’t know about Star War at the time of your reading. Tbh I think this is the fic author who has influenced my writing the most! I love this fic in particular because I do have a soft spot for vaderwan. Old Ben being delightfully torn up over Vader and Vader being delightfully unhinged about his former master…..with a magical fix-it device that restores both of them to their younger, strongest selves (if only to make the fucking easier and the horny insatiable)

Gay Chicken by zimriya Notes: Explicit, enemies to lovers, light daddy kink

Where to begin with this fic!!! I guess I cannot stress enough how much I love humor in fics when done right and this is done so well. Like it is literally so funny and so normal. There is something so beautiful about putting these space monk superheroes into like. Just situations. This fic is about laundry. But also upstairs neighbors. But also lost loves??? I’m always a bit hesitant for fics with a lot of notes/messages, because I can find that hard to read, but this was very, very easy to read, both format-wise and flow of the story wise. I love them both being assholes to each other.  Love them slowly becoming friends through notes under the monikers “501” and “212”. LOVE the twist.

wildest dreams by kidhuzural Notes: Explicit, 5+1 fic

Basically: Baby Anakin wants to get married to Obi-Wan. Teenager padawan Anakin wants to marry Obi-Wan. Clone Wars Anakin wants to marry Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan wants to marry Clone Wars Anakin. I love love love fics that start out with baby padawan Anakin and have him grow up. It places so much emphasis on their master&padawan relationship and how important they were to each other before AOTC or TCW, which I think is the strongest basis for obikin. Also this Anakin is just so cute and Obi-Wan cares for his baby padawan so much!! All in all, this fic is just so sweet. Obsessed.

In Pursuit of Cold Water by @jswander Notes: Mature, Merman!Anakin

Can I have a fic rec list that doesn’t include this fic?? I love this fic. I think I reread it like twenty times while waiting for the last chapter, and it was worth it and gripping and incredible each time. I am fascinated by writers who can worldbuild, and Jo worldbuilds so well in this mermaid AU. I love the descriptions of their fins; the possessiveness, the hurt, the anger, the jadeness, and the naivete of Anakin somehow all existing in the same character and all being so justified. There’s some really heavy moments and also really silly moments (they dress Anakin up as an old lady to avoid detection at one point). I love the development of their relationship and especially the growth of their mental bond. Such a good translation  of their Force bond in canon (and such a clever work-around for a mermaid not speaking English!) Just an amazing fic. So good.

The Devil’s In The Details by @ragnarlothcat Notes: Explicit, demon Anakin, darker!Anakin (because of the demon bit)

Back at it again with my Rag-writing obsession! I’m loving this WIP and how evil and innocent Anakin is. Yeah, he’s a demon haunting Obi-Wan’s new house; yeah, he’s killed like. A ton of people. But he’s so pathetic. So very eager to please. So very attractive. As a reader, you’re like Obi-Wan’s friend, Quinlan, who discovers Obi-Wan sleeping with a literal demon, and you’re like ‘bestie, do you not know? That’s a literal demon?’ and obi-wan is like ‘he is quite polite and does so good on our walks around town’ and you’re like ‘you’re taking him on walks???’ but also you can’t help but root for demon Anakin and poor decision-maker Obi-Wan. Also, once again, I love Rag’s humor and timing of it. The narration Obi-Wan has is so colorful and so fucking funny, I snort all the time. He’s such a bitch. He’s amazing.

By Omission by @posthumousvigor Notes: Explicit, reverse master/padawan au, drunk sex

This writer is very quickly becoming one of my favorites. I love their prose and the way they write Obi-Wan—especially padawan!Obi-Wan with Master Anakin. One of my favorite dynamics for obikin aus, and this writer gives me so much good food. TBH one of my all-time favorite cliches/tropes is one of them getting dressed up out of their Jedi robes to be put in Situations, and I especially love this for Obi-Wan cause Anakin got a whole movie of dressing up for funsies, and this fic delivers. Master Skywalker comes back early from a mission to find his padawan slutting it up in the Lower Levels, and what is a man to do other than snap?? And he snaps so beautifully in this fic. I love it when they’re horny beyond reason for each other.

how to stay by answersinahauntedclub Notes: Explicit, professor/student relationship

I know logically that this fic probably will not update again, but it is so beautiful and I think about it all the time. It is like. The peak of college/university aus in this fandom. Bold statement, I know, but I love this fic and characterization so much that I am stating it. They’re both disasters. They can’t resist each other even if they really, really should. It’s an incredible read and I am fascinated by both this Obi-Wan and this Anakin. Cannot stress enough the lovable disasters that they are. In writing this, I took an hour break and reread it again.

we’re swimming with the sharks (until we drown) by @obiwaned Notes: Teen, fake/pretend relationship

Getting this update notification felt like such a sweet sweet win for me. I loved the premise as soon as I read it and it just keeps getting better. Fake marriage for any reason is always amazing. I also LOVE non-linear timelines and this writer does it so well because you as the reader don’t get lost and confused trying to keep the timeline straight. It’s delectable, it’s straightforward, it’s so easy to devour, and I am obsessed with this fic and even the possibility of more.

Self-Insert by ZenyZootSuit Notes: Teen, crack

God this is so funny in a very crack way. Short and funny and perfect. Darth Vader writes self-insert fanfiction about being with Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Darth Sidious finds out. Imperial secrets are leaked, but I’m sure those were important details he needed to include!! For context! Realism! Absolutely perfect; no notes.

Open Circle by Calyss Note: Explicit, Dark Obi-Wan, dom/sub (under)tones, seduction to the Dark side

This is also one of my annual rereads, and one of my absolute favorite Sith Obi-Wans in the fandom. I love how out of control this sith Obi-Wan is, how very obsessed with just Anakin he is. Sith Obi-Wan really said “he’s mine” and he’s gonna destroy Anakin’s marriage and the whole galaxy to prove it. And also Anakin is not going to say no or resist much at all because that’s his master and he loves him and has weird feelings for him he has not really examined. This is also such an id fic of mine. But no regrets putting it on the list. When I saw it updated in October 2022, I literally cleaned my room and improved my life before I sat down to read it.

How to Save a Galactic Republic Without Really Trying by @sharpest-tongue Notes: Mature, Post Kenobi show

So many amazing fics came out of the Kenobi show but this absolutely has to be one of my favorites. There’s humor, there’s touching moments, there’s Star Wars lingo I didn’t know but that made the whole thing feel very much in-universe (and that I have now incorporated into my Star Wars Wikipedia slash Dictionary for later use, even if it’s all made up). I love a time travel fic, has to be said, and this one delivers perfectly. The Jedi as family in this fic really made me emotional. Extra special shout out to Obi-Wan, raising his padawan again in a do-over, and thinking, ‘i was not this bad as a teenager wtf?? Yeah ok whatever i MAY have fought in TWO WARS at that age but still!!!’ love him. Love his obvious blind spots for anakin and also for himself. Such a good fic!!!

broken bones, thunder drums by @maragny Notes: Teen, hurt/comfort

There is so much to love about this fic and I love it all. Clone War fics are like my bread and butter in this fandom. I love obikin fics that take place in the middle of battle where the reader is confronted with the reality of either Anakin or Obi-Wan fighting – and this fic really starts by throwing you into the action in such a visceral, effective way that I was stressed! I was gripped! It makes Anakin hiding his injury feel not only understandable but also like the only option. Good think Obi-Wan is there to save the day and help Anakin through his pain because he is overprotective and in love with him. Also the first chapter is told from Rex’s point of view, which just. One of my favorite outsider POVs for obikin is Rex.

no news is good news by @rhymenoceros Notes: Mature, crack, relationship reveal, breaking news/news cycle format

This fic is so funny! The tone is perfect for what the writer sets out to do — that is, make the reader feel like they’re caught up in a social media news cycle! There’s talk shows, there’s paparazzi, there’s space reddit, there’s leaked Jedi text conversations….the Jedi screen names are hilarious and easy to tell who is who while still staying true to the joke. Cannot recommend this fic enough. Cute, funny, horny, and with that sweet sweet Palpatine downfall that the best cracky fics always have.

Falling Deep Into You by @dark--whisperings Notes: Explicit, dom/sub tones, so much pining

Any fic that has the tag “Obi-Wan Kenobi is a freak in bed” has my attention and my interest. This writer describes Anakin subbing and Obi-Wan domming so very beautifully that it’s almost a manifesto in 8k. Lots of good sex here, but I really love the opening scene and the push and pull the writer’s given the characters. They want each other so much—Obi-Wan wants so much, but alas! Religious guilt on par with catholicism! Of course the nasty freaky sex fiend in Obi-Wan wins out over the Jedi Master, but I really enjoyed the guilt and the way he gives in and goes to find Anakin because of course he does. And then the ending! A resetting of the chess board so that the game can start over tomorrow. A great fic all in all!

you took my love so tenderly by @billboguspreston & @acrylicsalts-inspo Notes: Explicit, prince/guard dynamic, exhibitionism

I started reading this fic when it was first posted, and I followed it attentively and with baited breath. I love the reverse age dynamic (I know, it’s not for everyone, but I lovelovelove it), and I love that this Obi-Wan is such a spitfire. He knows what he wants and that’s for his silent, restrained, older, handsome bodyguard to snap and fuck him and he WILL brat his way into getting what he wants as is his right. Anakin being both incredibly horny (Anakin horny-gripping the pommel of his sword because Obi-Wan has decided to get off right in front of him to see if he can tempt him into fucking him) is amazing. Obi-Wan being both the aggressor and also the inexperienced one is chef’s fucking kiss and a dynamic I do not see often enough. So worth the read. And there may be more sequels??? Be still my beating heart!

I Wanna Be Owned by @kyberkenobi Notes: Explicit, 5+1 things, light BDSM

Speaking of horny grip lol, I had to think for a bit about which fic from this writer to choose because all of them are very good and very very smutty with all sorts of kinks and dynamics. The writer you go to for mean dom Obi-Wan and if you’re feeling up for discovering a kink you weren’t sure you were into before. There’s plenty of amazing fics on her ao3 (I was also immediately obsessed with the recent alpha/alpha one), but this fic is one of my favorites. I love the style of a 5+1 for a fic, and I am obsessed with casual slut (affectionate) Obi-Wan and Anakin’s blinders of his master slowly being pulled away until he HAS to confront the reason Obi-Wan can untie and hogtie a criminal they caught so damn quickly. It’s indecent. It’s amazing. 

Our Man From Tatooine by kazmir Notes: Explicit, a/b/o dynamics, intersex omegas

This story is such a good, quick, enthralling read. I really can’t say much without spoiling it, but it’s worth the read. Dark Obikin, twists and turns, roleplaying, horny mates being unable to resist the other’s draw….so good….One of those fics I paused to reread while reccing it lol

Acts of Contrition by @marycontraire Notes: A series, ranging from Gen - Explicit

Cheating a little bit to rec you all a series instead because I just reread this fic series and fell in love with it all over again. Literally a fandom classic for me. The world building is amazing, the realism and research really pays off because it creates such a rich world for people to dive into. The Tatooine culture is so rich and interesting, and I love this Anakin especially. It’s a very realistic take on if Anakin had been expelled from the Order for the Tusken massacre. This Anakin is darker and clingier and Obi-Wan is trying to keep himself level and sane and something Anakin can cling to while still being a Jedi in all but name. Every installment of this series is gold and worth reading as quickly as possible just to have this in your mind faster. Also worth a slow read to savor it because unfortunately, you can only read a fic series like this for the first time once.

You can call me baby (you can call me love) by @lilredghost Notes: Explicit, 5 + 1

This fic is so sweet that I honestly forgot it was explicit - even though, yes, it opens with a sex scene lmao! But I love this writer’s explicit fics so much (their ao3 is worth a browse) that I am not disappointed in it being explicit, no sir. Obi-Wan gets upset when Anakin calls him an old man repeatedly and I’ve read this fic so much that when I see repeated use of “old man” in other fics I’m like “! no! His feelings!!!” this fic ALSO has anakin calling obi-wan baby <3  so good so sweet so perfect.

take my hand through the flames by @atornpage Notes: Explicit, vaderwan, seduction to the Dark Side

Oh this may just be the WIP I am most excited to see updated! It’s such a clever and unique concept that I’m on the edge of my seat to see where the writer takes the story next. There are not enough stories where a character falls into a coma and time passes around them, and this is so perfect. I adore fics where baby Anakin is clingy and obsessed with Obi-Wan and everyone around them is like ‘this is not REALLY the Jedi way, guys’, and this fic has SO much of that. I can’t wait to see all the promises of the tags come to fruition and am massively enjoying the ride to get there!

Heal Me, My Darling by @wasureneba Notes: Explicit, sick fic, idiots in love

Who doesn’t love a sick fic?? The tender healing…the care…the rotten work…not to me, not if it’s you, etc etc…this fic is such a good sick fic too, I was here for the entire thing! Anakin is in top whiny form and Obi-Wan is cuddling him left and right! I also love Anakin having a praise kink in this fic – it made me soft and so receptive to the idea again when I was getting tired of seeing it as a default in a ton of fics. But this fic said “Obi-Wan tells Anakin he’s doing good while touching his ass to administer a very important for plot reasons shot and Anakin bursts into flames” and I said “absolutely and understandable, please tell me what happens next.” This is like a perfect sick fic for me. The right balance of sweet and horny. Caring Obi-Wan and whiny because he’s bored! Anakin. God-tier combination.

Νόστος by NFx Notes: Explicit, stockholm syndrome typical of hades & persephone aus

I am always here for a good Hades&Persephone AU and I feel like this is a great one! I especially love AUs that carefully place Star Wars GFFA characters into an established world (like Greek mythology in this case), and take care to match up the side characters of the GFFA with the AU characters they’re being transposed on. I like the pace and narration of this one too, the way the tone feels both readable and still old — the dialogue and narration don’t read like a BBC documentary set in Ancient Greece where everyone just sort of speaks like they’re in a Shakespeare play for some reason, but it’s still sorta oldish/stiffer dialogue that really keeps you in the fic universe without alienating readers. Also, horny. But dark horny. Love a darker Anakin. 

Hunting the Homeward Light by GreenQueenofClubs Notes: Teen

One of my all-time favorites, I think, and if you haven't read it or haven't reread it recently, you need to! There's so much tension build up and detail put in with such an amazing pay off that I could literally read this fic every month and probably find something new to enjoy all over again. I don't even have strong opinions about mace training anakin, but this fic convinced me it could work and work really well. also poor poor obi-wan </3 his emotional support padawan goes missing </3 but then is found :) as a twunk :)

[romanarose]

Favorites of 2023

Hi! I've seen a lot people doing these so I thought I would too!

These are all sorts of Oscar Issac/Pedro Pascal fics that delighted me this year <3

I tried to keep it to one rec per author just because I have soooooo many friends with wonderful fics and blogs who deserve recognition

If yours didn't make it, NO FEAR you are still wonderful to me &lt;3

Everything is labeled properly in the fic so be warned, many of this contains dark!

3 series that I couldn't stop thinking about

Hungry Hearts By @atinylittlepain: The Last of Us, A Bruce Springsteen themed Joel series? SHEEEEEEEESH

Yearling by @justagalwhowrites : The Last of Us, Jackson!Joel and a victim of prolonged sexual assault. If you know me, you know I love a traumatized reader healing with the power of love and friendship

The Fractured Moon by @melodygatesauthor : Moon Knight, NON CON, dark moon boys is always a slay but the way Marc is so tortured and Steven is so needy?!?!?!?! Mels characterization of Steven may or may not have influenced my Ben in ROF

Three fics that rewired my brain

On the Waterfront by @beefrobeefcal : Triple Frontier, Now, I've always loved a tubby man with a belly (who else had a crush on Samwise Gamgee in LOTR?) BUT DARK FRANKIE?!?!?!?! Turned it into a full obsession.

I can be your pretty girl by @walkintotheriveranddisappear : The Last of Us, Wow, I devoured every single chapter!!! I thinka bout it so much, ESPECIALLY that scene with Tommy... I've never looked at a pool ball the same way.

Dancing With Wolves by @hon3yboy : Moon Knight, Now, I'm not the biggest monster fucker out there, but this?!?!?!?! WEREWOLF MARC SPECTOR??? Unwell about it.

3 times men jerking off was hot

Caught by @toxicanonymity : The Last of Us, I've mentioned in the authors note for Keep Cry'n that this fic inspired it, it's one I go back to allllll the time

Take Care of me Tonight by @missdictatorme : Moon Knight, Jake is horny and lonely and jerks of..... reader helps, and makes our boy feel special <3

Pent Up by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin : Narcos, Javi is... well... pent up, needs to let loose! and boy does he.

4 times it got gay bc something is wrong with me and I couldn't decide

Behind Enemy Lines by @astroboots : Triple Frontier, Y'all know how much I love this series, seeing as I wrote a fic for it XD but this chapter is something i always hold close <3

Captain of the team by @writefightandflightclub : Triple Frontier, MAAAAAANNNNN this fic is why I will never be the same as a person.

Trine by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction : Sucker Punch. Anyone who reader blue jones should be reading this. Incredible.

What if he never had to go? by @velocibeewords : Triple Frontier, The infamous series I read on my friend bachelorette weekend! So good I couldn't put it down, going so far as to read it at a casino XD Benny and Santi, my babies

3 times underused characters shined

Oxford Comma by @whatthefishh : The Two Faces of January, Tell me, how does someone take a character with almost no following and make a series so damn beloved by many??? Only Mona could.

My Ex's Tapes by @runa-falls : Lighteningface, Basil Stilt AND Jake Lockley??!?! God bless this mess hnnggggg

I'm Getting What's Mine by @winniethewife : The Card Counter, dub con, I think we as a society need more William Tell, and sensory deprivation to break down reader? Amazing.

3 times they talked dirty to me *trumpet noises*

Not a Survivalist Girl by @tightjeansjavi and @chaotic-mystery : The Last of Us, when they finally fuck??? HELLO?!?!! unreal

Only Daddy That'll Walk the Line by @millerscoffee : The Last of Us, Joel is so degrading and condescending in this I think about it so much it's fucking unreal.

Making Trouble by @juneknight : Moon Knight, The fic that completly fried the brains of the moon knight fandom. "You cried like I was killing you—except you were begging me not to stop" yeah. Yeah...

3 times there were three or more

The story of us by @pimosworld : Triple Frontier, This series has a special place in heart bc Priscilla said I influenced a lo of it with the characterizations and thats such a big honor. Priscilla Is so talented and I adore how she writes these guys... and the FishBen wins my heart

Eyes on Me by @cavillscurls : The Last of Us, Soft Joel? Tommy watches? AFTERCARE?!?!?! Y'all know how much I love aftercare.... I should read this again shouldn't I?

Run the Table by @katiexpunk : The Last of Us, MORE TOMMY JOEL THREESOME! MORE!!!! This one came out recently so its still fresh in my mind

3 Times I should NOT have been into that

No Soul to Sell @atticrissfinch : The Last of Us, NON CON V DARK, this is the fic that made me like... yeah I'm into piss. No doubt. It was so dark and hot ;-;

Plushies Series by @pedge-page The Last of Us, Haru knows how much I love this, and it was a toss up between this and their piss kink but seeing as I got that above.... plushes needs more love bc its so soft and domestic and horny <3

Plaything by @missannwinchester : The Last of Us, wow, I adored this fic… then I lost it!!!! Thank you to everyone who helped find it bc it’s one of my favs. I wanna be Joel’s lil doll he dresses up 🥺

3 times I said “this is underrated af”

No One But Me by @koshkamartell : The Last of Us, Are y'all tired of me talking about this fic yet? Koshka told me my series The Wrong Way inspired this so it's special to my heart <3

Safe by @criticallyacclaimedstranger and @apascalrascal : Triple Frontier, Cal has so many good Frankie one shots it was hard to pick, but this one is sooooo soft. We love Frankie being willing to listen and learn.

Through the Scope by @ssuperficialspacecadett : Triple Frontier, Y'all know I love a traumatized reader learning to heal, but his fic is fantastic bc it's a traumatized reader who has done a lot of the work already and is strong and brave as it is <3 Also, all 4 of the guys are her friends now which is the best way to have a fic

Thank you all soooooo much for all these amazing fics and for a great 2023! Well. Not so great, I had terrible time lol but y'all were my solace <3

If you feel so inclined, check out my best of year wrapped for both RomanaRose and Romana-after-dark

I'm not gonna say 2024 is my year, I leanred my lesson XD I am approaching 2024 with RESPECT. It will be the year it is.

[andreafmn]

Speak | Chapter 9

Word Count: 3.6K Story Description: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf. Chapter: 9/? A/N: one day I'll upload early, y'all. but I am truly trying to keep to the schedule I posted, as hard as it is. But thank you for bearing with me. You guys have no idea how much it means to me 🥰🤍 My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing or buy me a coffee TikTok • Instagram • Business | MASTERLIST If you’d like to be tagged in this or any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!  Taglists for Twilight get filled quick and Tumblr only lets me tag up to a certain point. Notifications are your best bet.

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Chapter 9

The Swan sisters had been raised with a misconstrued idea that the new year meant a fresh start, a clean slate. That it could magically erase any and all afflictions the year before had caused. That it truly was the first page of a new chapter.

And maybe that’s all that (Y/N) was hoping for that New Year’s Eve. That the coming year would be the first page of her new chapter in Forks. That whatever was happening with Paul would die that December night. That Bella would finally turn over a new leaf and forget Edward. That she could move forward with her relationship with Jake.

Because that’s what she wanted.

That’s what she had always wanted.

The thing she most needed was to get over whatever fluke it was that had made its way into her life. Whatever breach into her timeline that had decided to make her heart flutter out the sound of someone else’s name. It had been too sudden and unexplainable to not be a mistake.

Paul Lahote had no business settling into her heart in the way he had, and she would stop at nothing to pluck him as quickly as he had attached himself. Even if she looked forward to seeing him in her dreams at night, even if her heart skipped a beat at the mere thought of him, even if all she wanted was to get as close to him as possible.

(Y/N) wanted —at least she thought she wanted— to go back to being excited that Jacob had finally set his sights on her. She wanted the same thrill she got about Paul with Jake. He had been the crush that had withstood the trials of time. It could not be trampled over by a guy she barely knew.

Yet, she could not stop thinking how his favorite color was red, how he moved to La Push after his parent’s divorced when he was eight, how he didn’t remember much of his mother even though he had been old enough to, how he had never been in love but desperately wanted to know what it felt like. (Y/N) could not stop picturing the way his eyes would shine under the warm glow of the setting sun, how his smile would grow as he listened intently to every word she spoke. Nor could she shake off the feeling of his warm skin against hers, how soft his hands had felt where she believed they’d be rough and calloused. He was everything and nothing like she had thought, but she knew that was as far as she could go to know him.

“Well, don’t you look mighty nice?” Charlie’s voice broke his daughter out of thought. “I think you’ve been to more bonfires this month than I have been to in years. People might start forgetting the sheriff’s face around there.”

“I doubt that’s even possible, dad,” she chuckled, smoothing over a piece of hair that had been unruly for the better part of the day. “Really wish you could join us, though. Since Bella won’t be making it out there, I wanted a Swan there for moral support.”

“This about that Paul fella?”

The question took (Y/N) aback. She had thought no one but Jake knew about that whole fiasco, and she was certain he had not said anything to her dad. “How do you…?” she stammered.

“Bella muttered a thing or two about him. Said he was the one you had been with the other night,” her father said. “Something happen with you and Jake?”

“Nothing happened,” she muttered. “I’m just making new friends seeing as my stay in Forks might be longer than anticipated.”

“Well, that’s a good idea. Just be careful of the people you keep in your company.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Jake might have mentioned this Paul Lahote character is not the greatest influence,” Charlie added. “He thinks he might not have the purest of intentions with you, (Y/N). I just don’t wanna see you get hurt.”  

“Well, I can tell you right now that you have nothing to worry about,” (Y/N) smiled comfortingly.  The last thing she wanted was for her father to worry about her when his other daughter was still no more than a statue in their home.  “I have only hung out with him that one time and I don’t think it’ll happen again. But thanks for checking in.”

“Just wanna make sure your transition back here is as smooth as possible, kiddo,” he responded warmly. “I know it’s gonna be hard to settle back here after being with your mom for so long. Forks might be a bit slow but it’s truly home.”

“I’m actually excited about staying. Even if it wasn’t the plan originally, there’s something about this town that’s just begging for me to stay,” she confessed. “Even if I came to help with Bella, I’m glad I decided to stay. It will also keep mom from taking us both back to Florida —at least for a while.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” The older Swan said before she nodded in response. “I’m just glad you two wanted to spend time with your old man. Even if I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“You’re doing good, dad,” (Y/N) chuckled. “I will say you got the shortest end of the stick having to be the one dealing with this breakup but I know you’re doing the absolute best you can. Hopefully, this new year brings us all the fresh start we so desperately need.”

“I hope so too, kiddo,” he sighed in defeat. “But have fun tonight, (Y/N), and make good choices.”

“Have I ever done anything else?”

“Very funny, kid,” Charlie chuckled. “Well, I’m off to work. I’ll probably not be here yet when you get back, so happy new year, (Y/N). And have fun.”

“Happy New Year, dad.”

Everything in Forks seemed to move at a punishingly fast pace, even if at times it felt like the town was stuck in time. But (Y/N) had been there almost four weeks which had already felt like a lifetime.

In comparison to living with Phil and her mother, in the midst of travel and adventures that she had loved for a time, (Y/N) had forgotten the calmness of remaining stagnant, of going to sleep and waking in the same home. She had forgotten what walking the halls of a school felt like, of having a group of friends that lasted more than a year.

Forks would give her that opportunity, or at least she hoped it would. The town had already started to change her and given her more than she could’ve hoped for. And that night she truly believed would set everything in the correct motion. Everything she had wished for with no more flukes.

An hour later and from the street she heard the honk of a horn. She gave herself a once over, not feeling completely comfortable with the way she looked that night. In part, she felt it was merely the nerves of seeing Jacob after the altercation with Paul.

But there was another part, the bigger part, that knew it was because of Paul. There was a calming thrill to him that she couldn’t explain. Even the juxtaposition of the thought made no sense to her. As much as she wanted to stay away from him, she wanted to get closer. It scared and excited her all at once.

Yet, the person that was waiting for her was not him. It was Jake, waiting impatiently behind the wheel of his truck.

“What took you so long?” Jacob grumbled as (Y/N) got into the car. “We’re already late as it is.”

“Sorry, Jake. I couldn’t find my jacket.”

“It’s fine, (Y/N). It’s just that Quil came back from his trip, and I wanted to catch up with him before school starts,” he said. “I also haven’t seen Embry since last weekend since he was with his mom visiting some family.”  

“Yeah, I get that,” (Y/N) responded meekly, sinking into her seat. “At least we have the rest of the night to hang out with them.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he smiled forcefully. “What about Bella? Is she not coming?”

“No,” she said through gritted teeth. “She wasn’t up to coming. Still bummed about this Edward guy.”

“What a shame,” Jake sighed. “Being around people would be good for her.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she mumbled. “But I can’t really force her. This guy did a number on her and nothing dad and I are doing is working. I’ve even decided to…”

“Maybe you guys don’t know her as well as you thought,” he blurted. “I mean, no offense but she’s not the same girl that left Arizona. She’s not even the same girl that came to Forks.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t help her, Jake. And that’s what we have been doing this whole time. Still, we can’t help someone that doesn’t want to help themselves.”

“I’m not trying to start a fight, (Y/N),” he grumbled. “I’m just saying that  maybe your efforts have not worked because she’s not the same Bella you knew.”

The girl remained quiet, anger filling her body instantly. Bella remained a sore subject in the new relationship, always being brought up by Jacob, reminding (Y/N) that he had liked her sister first –and, deep down, she knew he probably still did. Still, wanted to remain in the delusion that he had chosen her for as long as she could.

“It’s fine. Let’s just drop this, okay?” (Y/N) pleaded. “I just want to enjoy tonight. Please.”

“Alright, yeah. Whatever.”

The rest of the ride went by in silence, a heavy tension filling the air and suffocating her. At that moment, more than ever before in her life, she needed to believe that the new year was truly a fresh start. A new beginning for her sister, a new beginning for her relationship, and a new beginning for her life in Forks.

As soon as the truck rolled to a stop, Jake was out of the car and heading to the beach, mumbling something to (Y/N) that he was gonna see his friends and that he’d catch up to her soon enough. Then, he left her in between the small sea of cars that lined the border of the beach.

The younger Swan was left dumbfounded, completely perplexed at Jake’s reaction. His outburst had made her feel small and unwanted. And as she stood frozen at her spot, watching the community celebrate before her, she wondered if there was any reason for her to be there. Because maybe the best thing she could do, for everyone, was leave.

“I’m glad you came, (Y/N),” a voice startled her. “You look beautiful tonight.”

“Paul, hi,” she blushed, looking down at the black jumpsuit she wore under a white coat. “Thank you. You look great too. Especially with my sweater.”

“Oh, it was cold tonight and it was the first thing I grabbed,” he chuckled. “I promise I was gonna bring it back to you, not use it like it was mine.”

“Honestly, it looks better on you than it does me. Sometimes I feel like I drown in it.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. Your look great in a paper bag,” he grinned. “But I really am glad you came tonight.”

“And why is that, Paul Lahote?”

“Because I wanted to apologize for the other day. I never wanted things to end the way they did,” he said. His eyes searched hers in the darkness, wanting nothing more than for his hands to reach her, to feel her skin against his once more. “I’m sorry if I caused any trouble between you and Jacob. The last thing I would have ever wanted was for you to be blamed for my actions. You don’t deserve that.”

“Thank you, Paul,” she smiled, her hand unconsciously reaching for his, giving it a comforting squeeze. “But it’s not your fault. I was the one that agreed to spend time with you knowing that Jake would blow off the handle. If anyone is to blame for what happened that night, it’s me.”

Paul couldn’t help himself as his free hand flew to rest on her cheek, cradling her face in a soothing manner. “Nothing that happened was your fault, (Y/N),” he said. “Jake simply showed you who he is. You never did anything wrong. We didn’t do anything wrong.”

In that split second, (Y/N) remembered Jake’s words. She broke away from his contact, as though his touch had burned her skin, turning away from the enchanting trance his eyes held over her.

“What’s wrong?”

“It's just that Jake said something about you and… your past,” she sighed. “He said I was just an attempt to make your body count higher.”

“I hope you know how untrue that is,” he said, seething on the inside but not daring to show it to her. “You are special, (Y/N), and I would never do anything that would make you feel otherwise.”

“But why, Paul? What is so special about me? To everyone, I’m just Bella’s little sister.”

“You have to know that that is the least interesting thing about you,” he said. He reached out to her, needing to look her in the eye again. “You’re funny, you’re kind, you’re smart and witty. And that’s merely the tip of the iceberg. I may not have known you for long but I know there’s so much more to you than you let on. And all I’ve wanted was to learn about those parts that you hide from everyone else.”

“I still don’t know why!” (Y/N) responded, frustration pooling beads of tears in the corners of her eyes. “How can I trust someone that somehow says everything I want to hear but won’t give me a straightforward answer? Why me, Paul? Out of all the people in the world, why do you want to know me?”

At that moment, he felt he would spill everything. He wanted her to know just why it was her, why the universe had decided that it had to be her. Paul wanted to confess what bonded them and would keep them for the rest of their lives.

And he would have, but the fear of putting her in any danger could not let him say the words. He could not bring himself to utter any of the words that would throw her life up in shambles. “Why not you, (Y/N)?” he asked her, biting his tongue to keep what he wanted to say from spilling. “Is it so hard to believe that I could have seen you and be intrigued by you?”

“You saw me for a split second, Paul. Someone you’ve never known of cannot be worth all this trouble.”

“You are worth it, (Y/N).”

“And you are frustratingly vague,” she finally cracked a smile. “Why can’t you just answer me? What is it that you’re hiding?”

“You’d never believe me if I told you,” he copied her smile. “And isn’t a little mystery fun?”

“It could be if it didn’t get me in trouble with my boyfriend.”

“That could be fixed by breaking up with him, you know,” Paul teased. “A lot of things could be fixed if Jake was gone.”

“Are you threatening my boyfriend, Paul Lahote?”

“I would never,” he laughed. “But I still believe that he doesn’t deserve you, (Y/N).”

“Will you ever let that go?”

“Don’t think I can.”

And maybe she knew he was right but it was too hard to admit it, to him or to herself. She had wanted Jake for the better part of her life and one night could not change that. She wouldn’t let it. “Then you’re gonna have to if there’s ever gonna be some sort of friendship between us,” she said. “Might be hard to spend time with someone that’s always trashing their boyfriend.”

“I mean, you’ve only got a couple more weeks before you have to go back to Florida, right? I think I can control myself in that time.”

“Actually, I decided to move to Forks with my dad,” she smiled. “Bella isn’t getting better and I’ve honestly gotten attached to this town. It might be that some people have made this place so enchanting.”

“Then I guess I’m gonna have to work harder on pretending that I like Jake,” he grinned. “But I am glad you’re staying. The town wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“I’ve only been here for three weeks, Paul,” she laughed.

“And nothing has been the same since.”

“You’re something else.”

“I could say the same about you,” Paul added before noticing Jared calling him over. “And on that note, I will have to leave you. I’ve got a couple of things I have to do. But not before you give me your phone number.”

“My number?”

“That way I’d we ever wanna see each other it doesn’t have to be by me showing up at your house or running into each other at a bonfire.”

“Right,” she chuckled, handing him her phone. “That’s smart.”

 “I’ll see you around, (Y/N),” he smiled before kissing her on the cheek and disappearing down the beach.

As soon as he was out of sight, (Y/N) looked around, hoping that no one had witnessed what had just happened. As innocent as everything could have been, in such a small town, everything was known.

Once she had calmed down, she finally walked toward the commotion of the beach. Feeling as confused as she had been since meeting Paul, but at peace. Being around him made her feel serene, tranquility spreading through her veins. Though he made her heart race, he didn’t make her chest feel tight. It was a feeling that made her feel equal parts uneasy and calm.

“Where were you?” Jake asked as she joined him and his friends, a hint of annoyance dancing between his words.

“Just around,” she smiled. “I was actually planning to get something to drink. Do you guys want anything?”

“We’re good,” Embry smiled kindly. “But thank you.”

“Just hurry,” Jake added before becoming more interested in the conversations he was having before she had gotten close. “And bring me back a water, thanks.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

(Y/N) left him quickly, needing to compose herself before heading back toward him. She could feel how annoyed he was at her. Ever since that afternoon with Paul, Jake had become distant and rather cold toward her but she could understand why. As much as it pained her, she knew why and that she had to do something to make it up to him while keeping what angered him a secret.

“It’s good to see you around, (Y/N),” Billy said as he joined the girl’s side at the refreshment table. “I was wondering when I would see you again.”

“Hi, uncle Billy,” she smiled. “I’ve been meaning to go by the house but I’ve been busy these couple of days.”

“And things have been heated between you and my son.”

“How did you…?”

“Small town,” he smiled softly. “But I’ve already had some words with my son about his behavior toward you. It was completely unacceptable.”

“It might have been an overreaction but it was warranted,” she said looking down. “I knew what I did would anger him but I still did it.”

“That doesn’t mean he can chastise you in the middle of town. My son is young and can be quick-tempered,” Billy sighed, taking one of (Y/N)’s hands in his. “He says and does things that he doesn’t know he will regret one day, and you don’t deserve to be in the receiving end of that.”

“Thank you, Billy,” (Y/N) smiled, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “But I’m sure he’s sorry for that night and we’ll work through it together.”

“You know, I love my son, but he can be quite stubborn when he wants to. Even at his own detriment. Still, I hope this new year brings you both clarity and growth. Both personally, and if the gods want it, in your relationship as well.”

“I hope so too, uncle Billy.”

“My son is lucky to have you by his side. Even if he doesn’t know it.”

(Y/N) felt a new surge of confidence as he joined Jake and his friends once more. Knowing Billy was watching her back made her feel stronger about her relationship with Jacob and that it was worth investing her heart and time into. She knew her heart yearned for Jake and all she felt toward Paul was a strong sense of friendship.

As the hours passed and the tension between her and Jake seemed to dissipate, her resolve simply solidified itself. She would do anything possible to fix her relationship with her boyfriend and keep her friendship with Paul separate from Jacob.

But there was the smallest part in her that replayed Paul’s voice. He kept telling her how she deserved better and that Jake was not the right person for her, even if that was who she had wanted for so long.

Still, when the clock struck twelve, Jake was the one she kissed, and wished things would work out between them. She wished for him to only see Bella as a friend and finally give his whole heart to her. Wrapped in his arms as they cheered the new year, she begged the universe to give her the chance to have everything she had wished for.

Yet as her eyes found Paul’s in the crowd, she doubted if it was what she truly wanted or if she was holding onto a silly childhood dream.

Next ->

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[wally-darling-hyperfixation]

Take You to a Better Place: Floyd x reader Chapter 1

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝ ╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

The girls and you were a brand new band coming out . Band name was going to be Sugar,Spice and Everything Thrice with you girls as the main girls in the band. Violet, Parsley, and (Y/N) that’s all who is in the band. Anyway , yall are at Brozones concert watching it to see the new competition. You watch your competition start their performance. (I’m going to assume that velvet and veneer in the movie are 16 so you will meet them as young kids like 10 years old)

(I found a video on TikTok of this part so I wanna show)

You and your band had gotten front row seats to Brozone concert. Your manager wanted you to see your new competition and to scope them out. They boys get on stage and start singing their song "Perfect". You noticed that Violet seemed to be into the lead singer JD by how she was eyeing him.  Parsley seemed to be eyeing the guy who is the fun one but you just roll your eyes at them eye looking at some boys. This was the competition. Even if you did like how the pink haired one looked and sounded. This is your career you won't jeopardize it.  Suddenly it looked like the leader JD was going off from their original choreography and they seemed to look all nervous to you. Suddenly they fall from the tower and the huge disaster happens on the stage.

You gasp in shock. Definitely not expecting that to happen. You and your girl band were shocked to say the least. Brozone ran backstage and y'alls manager decided that this was the perfect time to introduce yall together.  You distracted the audience who were upset cause of Brozone leaving.

After the concert, it seems your band has gotten extremely popular. Next day when your album was released, you sold out. You were on magazine covers and everything. Violet was the band leader and the pretty one. Parsley was the exciting and adventurous one. You were the cute and calm one who had the sweetest smile. No matter where y’all went , people recognized and asked for autographs. You were polite and always willing to take pictures.

Brozone was all over the papers the next day. They broke up. Tons of fans crying in sadness that their favorite boy band disbanded. But that just left your girl group to fill the gap. You traveled all over the trolls world, you dabbled in all types of musics to appease every troll. You had rock songs and pop songs and country songs and funky songs. Y’all even added some classical to some songs. Y’all were known far and wide and loved by many because you appealed to all music lovers.

For the next several years , y’all were on top. You won awards and had an awesome fan base . But after 8 years of making songs together, Violet wanted a solo career. She said we were too old to be in a girl group anymore. That we are in our 20s and we need to go out and make a name for ourselves but she meant herself.

Violet: “Look it’s just a “girl thing”. We knew we wouldn’t last forever. We are no “babes in toy land” and we won’t be young forever. So, “girlfriend”, I’m going solo. We used to be “the chicks” but it’s time for me to “xscape” and make a name for myself. Y/N and Parsley, all yall need is some “TLC” and I’m sure you “spice girls” will be fine. It’s time for me to “go-go.” Bye girls.

Then she up and left. You havent seen her or parsley since. Not knowing what to do next you head to Mount Rageous to find work as a music artist. This is where things get bumpy.

Dang. I haven’t wrote a chapter story since before September last year. I am so sorry yall. I hope you liked this. Love you my darlings

Part 2

[lalachat]

"And there you were..."

Author's note: Hi loves! I am going to apologize for this one because it is basically just filler because the next chapter is going to be a good one(in my personal opinion). I have been in a chaotic-evil kind of mood recently and I got something good cooked up! However, I am sad to announce that I will probably end this story soon, maybe 2-3 more chapters. Do not fret though! I fully plan on writing some one shots, maybe another series 👀 That meaning, I got some good ideas for my future projects ehehehe! ANYWHO, I hid a harry potter reference in here. I wonder if y'all can find it! Tbh I hide a lot of my favorite movie quotes in my chapters. So far no one has picked up on any😭 anywho, enjoy this one before shit literally hits the ceiling.

Summary: You and Lucien wake up after your eventful night to have an early morning snack before your breakfast with the rest of the night court. However, can you and Lucien hide your growing feelings for one another? And most importantly, does anyone know what you two did last night?

This is for all my Lucien girlies❤️

Warnings: profanity, potential grammatical errors, and LOTS of filler/banter

Word Count: ≈ 4,053

Chapter 9: Pretty Pink Bows

After a much-needed bath, you and Lucien decided that it would be best to get some rest. You both changed into your pajamas and crawled into your bed. Lucien was too tired to go back to his apartment, and with Elain’s uproar, he felt it was best to stay. You did not complain. Sleeping next to Lucien was always peaceful, like your soul knows his entirely. These were always your best nights of sleep with him next to you.

You awoke to the first appearance of light on the horizon shimmering through your window. Lucien was sprawled out next to you comfortably, hair slightly tangled. His chest falling rhythmically with every breath. Poor guy was probably spent from the energy he was channeling into you last night. You smile at the sight of him.

Without waking up the slumbering male, you slipped out of your bed and out your room. You walked on the balls of your feet through the noiseless halls, trying not to wake anyone else who is still asleep. You were headed to the kitchen to grab y'all some tea and snacks. After last night, your body was craving for something to fill your aching stomach. You're sure Lucien felt the same.

You finally reached the kitchen, the beautiful colors of dawn now starting to come to light. You grabbed a pot and filled it with water, knowing a teapot would be too loud. You placed it on the stove to heat up as you set aside two teacups. While you were waiting for the water to boil, you mindlessly went to the pantry to search for your favorite tea. You grabbed two teabags and put them into the cups. The water started to bubble; you decided you still had some time to scrounge for snacks. You cut up some fruit, cheese, and meat and placed them onto a plate. You smiled as you made a little smiley face out of the arranged foods. You walked back over to the water to see that it was boiling. You carefully poured it into each cup and set it aside to cool as you cleaned. Shortly after, you grabbed everything you prepared and headed back to your room.

“Good morning sleepy head,” you sang to the sleeping figure wrapped up in your sheets. Lucien mumbled something you couldn’t comprehend as he still lay there asleep. You rolled your eyes, “Jackass.”

A smile crept up onto your face as you sat your breakfast aside, “This is your last warning, Lu.” A moment of silence passes, and you shook your head, “So be it!”

You jump onto your bed like a child on solstice, the sudden motion startling Lucien. He jolted awake as you kept jumping up and down in a fit of giggles at his reaction, “Wakey wakey Lucy!”

“You are a jackass,” he mumbled as he shook his head and threw himself back onto his pillow. You laughed at his choice of vocabulary because you threw that same word at him earlier.

“Am I still a jackass if I said that I got up early to get us some tea with a complimentary charcuterie plate?”

“What a big word for how early it is,” he smiled at you as he ran his hand through his hair, fingers getting stuck in some tangles. He groans in frustration, you laughed.

“Your hair looks like a bush on fire,” you chuckle as you grabbed your hairbrush and gestured to his hair, “May I?” All Lucien could do was nod, still not completely awake yet. He leaned up allowing you to slot yourself behind him, his muscled back pressed against your chest.

“You’re not tender headed, are you?” You slowly started to brush the ends of his hair first, Lucien hummed at the feeling.

“Obviously not when you were the one tugging at it last night.” You could feel the smirk on his face without even having to look, you pulled the brush a little harder through a knot at the comment.

“Ouch!” He turned around to look at you over his shoulder. You gave him an innocent smile.

“Oops- sorry, the brush slipped,” you halfheartedly apologized as you continued brushing his hair. “You should let me braid it!”

Lucien laughed, “And what’s next? A huge pink bow?”

“Obviously-” you said as you brushed out the last section you were working on and moved on to start braiding his hair.

“Good gods you're going to get me made fun of,” he sighed as his body relaxed at the feeling of your fingers in his hair.

“Anyone who makes fun of you is just jealous of how good you’ll look,” your voice vibrating through Lucien’s back. You worked quietly as you braided his hair into Dutch braids and pinned the ends in a low bun, Lucien just sat there marveling your presence and how close you two were now. Your breath hitting his neck sent goosebumps across his entire body. His body was betraying him from the feeling of you pressed against him.

“Turn around please,” you asked him. He happily obliged as you both shuffled around to a comfortable spot facing one another. You scooted closer to him to pull out some hairs to frame his gorgeous face. Your brows furrowed in concentration as you bit your lip, scared if you pulled too much it will mess the braid up.

Lucien just watched you. His eyes roamed your face while you were distracted with his hair. Having you this close he was able to study every detail. You were astonishingly beautiful. Your captivating eyes that sparked whenever you smiled, your nose that was sprinkled in tiny sunspots, your beautiful rosy cheeks, and gods, your kissable lips that he could never get enough of. He couldn’t look away, not with the way you bit your bottom lip. All he could think about was what it would be like to kiss you again…

“All done,” you smiled as you looked at your work.

Lucien’s eyes glanced up to meet yours, “Thank you.”

You looked back at him, just now noticing how close your faces were. Your cheeks flushed as you let out a small breath, “you’re welcome.”

You did not dare move, not with the way Lucien eyes kept dipping down to your lips. There is something so intimate about the way he was looking at you, and you thought to yourself every kiss you two shared was heated and an act of lust. You and Lucien had never shared a legitimate kiss before. That thought alone sent nerves through your body. Could he actually have feelings for you? Because the way he is looking at you right now makes you feel like you're not just a hookup anymore, that you're something much more.

“Lucien-” you glanced at his lips as you sucked in a breath. Your nose was now brushing against his. One of you had leaned in. You didn’t know if it was you, him, or both but at this moment neither of you cared. You didn't care as his breath kissed your cheeks with warmth causing more of a blush. You two should not be doing this! Friends don’t kiss. This is so wrong, but gods did nothing ever feel so right. Just as your lips brushed against his, it was like Lucien snapped out of a trance at the touch. WHAT IN THE HELL JUST HAPPENED?!

He nervously coughed, “I’m hungry, what about you?” He got off the bed and grabbed the tray you prepared; the tea was now room temperature.

“Oh yeah! I'm starving,” you shook your head trying to clear your mind of the moment he abruptly put an end to. Shit- are you disappointed? This cannot be happening, he’s just a friend! You’re mated to Azriel for gods sake!

“Tea got cold, but everything looks lovely y/n,” he politely thanked you as he grabbed each teacup to rewarm them. “The smiley face is a nice touch.”

“You’re welcome, I thought it was cute! Now, bon appétit,” you smiled. You both were hungrier than you thought. You both devoured the platter you had prepared in minutes as you sipped on tea. The once cute smiley face now nothing but crumbs.

“Such a shame we destroyed the smile though,” he laughed as he downed the rest of his tea.

“At least we made a happy plate right?” you said as you finished your own cup.

“Always the cleaver one in the mornings,” he smiled at you as he gathered his clothes off the floor to get dressed. You figured you would do the same as you pulled out a long skirt and a plain shirt from your dresser. You took a quick look in the mirror and ran your brush through your hair a couple of times before putting it up in a messy bun.

“Ready?” You glanced at him as he was looking at himself in the mirror.

“Hell yeah I am, I’m ready to show off this new dew! This looks really good y/n” he exclaimed as he kissed you atop the head.

“Can I please, please, please add a bow?” you stuck out your lip.

“Absolutely not,” he said as he opened the door for you.

“Are you sure? It would make it look even better,” you wiggled your brow at him as you walked past him through the door.

“Yes, I am sure. If Feyre caught me with that, she would never let me live it down.”

“That’s actually a fair statement,” you laughed as he shut your door.

Just as he turned around Lucien’s gaze went to your wrists, his mouth turning upwards into a wicked smile, “y/n?”

“What?” You looked at him confused as he tilted his head in emphasis to look where he was. You followed his gaze, and your eyes were met with faint red rings around both of your wrists. Tendrils of flame still remnant. “Oh. My. Mother. Above-” was all you could say as you traced your wrists gently. They were beautiful in a way you could not describe...

“Is it obvious?” You looked at him worriedly as you stuck them out for him to see. Pain struck his features like you were ashamed of what you two had done. However, you were only scared of Elain and Azriel noticing them.

“When you do that, yes,” he chuckled. “Here, I can glamour it for you,’ he grabbed your wrists, ‘Such a shame to get rid of my beautiful work.” His grip on your wrists made you blush as you slowly watched the marking go away.

“Thank you,” you breathed closely analyzing your wrists to make sure all proof of last night was officially gone. Lucien still had a pained look on his face but hiding it with wit.

“You should really get those tattooed, they look too good on you to hide it,” he mused as he started to walk to the lingering voices echoing through the halls.

“Maybe you should do that to me more often then,” you clapped back with a wink as you followed.

He shot you a playful smile as he grabbed your wrist gently, “You want more my little fireling?”

That’s a new nickname, you thought. The possessiveness of it shook your core. You tried to hide your liking for it, as you shot him a cheeky smile and walked into the room that your friends were gathered in. Everyone gathered around the room waiting for breakfast. The table set with plates, silverware, and glasses of water.

“Morningggggg,” Mor smirked, leaning against the wall with a cup of tea in her hands. Her eyes gleaming with a knowing look as she dramatically sipped her tea with a wink sent your way.

You look at her confused, “Good morning to you too Mor.”

“Ah good, y/n! We are about to eat breakfast, still waiting for a couple others to join us.” Feyre smiled at you. Her gaze met Lucien’s as he walked into the room shortly after. “Oh, good to see you’re up Lucien, come sit!”

Everyone soon began to make their way to their seats. Mor nudged her elbow in your hip as she whispered, “You are going to tell me everything!”

You hissed, “Yes, but can’t a girl eat first!”

You looked around the room to find Rhysand and Feyre seating themselves at the head of the table. Cassian pulling out the chair next to Rhysand as Nesta chose the one beside her mate. Mor sat beside Feyre, shooting a look to sit next to her so you two could gossip. You rolled your eyes as you sat down with her. Lucien felt awkward being the last one standing, not really having a specific spot at the table. It was either sit next to Nesta, his body trembled at that thought, or sit next to you. He shot you a smile as he gracefully pulled out the chair next to you.

“Where’s Amren?” you asked.

“Went home already, last night was more than enough socializing for her,” Rhysand said with an understanding.

“Gotcha,” you nodded as you sipped some water.

“So, how did everyone sleep?” Mor asked with a smile, obviously up to something, as everyone murmured “good.”

With you occupied with your water and not answering previously, Mor directly asked you this time.

“You sleep okay y/n?” She wiggled her brow slightly as you choked on your water from remembering what kept you up in the early morning hours. Everyone’s eyes looked at you with worry from your choking, but you gave them a thumbs up and a scratchy, “I'm okay!”

“Sorry, the water went down wrong. I slept okay,” you said through small coughs, your face flushed from your thoughts and from coughing. Lucien pats your back reassuringly.

“And what about you Lucien?” Mor asked. You glared at her as he kept patting your back.

“Just fine Mor,” he deadpanned. Not revealing a single thing about either of your nights. Mor hummed, unsatisfied with your answers.

“Where the hell is Az?! I am fucking hungry,” Cassian muttered in frustration. Lucien’s hand stilled at the name. You looked around and noticed the shadowsinger was not here.

“Would you just be patient for once in your life,” Nesta quipped.

“I am sure he will be here soon Cass, along with Elain.” Rhysand said, amused at that neither of them are here yet. You and Lucien shared a mutual glance of, “Oh fuck.”

You mouthed to him, “Do you think they are together?” He gave you a curt nod. His breathing becoming long inhales and exhales as he tried to calm the storm raging within him at the thought of them together again. You could sense his battle and grabbed his hand reassuringly.

“It will be okay,” you mouthed to him once again as the others were engrosed in a conversation about gods knows what. He pursed his lips into a thin line as he rubbed his temples.

“You okay Lucien?” Feyre asked. He looked up at her, and he could tell she knew what was wrong. She was the only other person besides you that knew him, truly knew him.

“Yes, sorry! My head just hurts from this new hairstyle. I'm not entirely used to it yet.” He smiled at her. She knew he lied to cover up what he was truly feeling from the others, so she went with it.

“I understand. I am sure all of us long haired people have experienced the feeling,” she grinned, “It looks good though!”

“Thank you,” you and Lucien said at the same time. You both glared at each other.

“What do you mean by ‘Thank you,’ I am the one who she complimented,” Lucien said.

“Yes, but I am the one who did it! You would not have gotten complimented if it weren’t for me,” you stuck your tongue out.

“You braided his hair?” Mor looked at you. Only then did you realize what you had just exposed. You had to divert! Lucien only looking at you playfully with what you were going to say about the situation now.

“Yes, I ran into Lucien earlier this morning when I snuck to the kitchen to make myself some tea. Neither of us could sleep with what’s going on, so we just stayed up together in the library until you all woke up,” you shrugged. Was that a good enough cover up? You prayed it was, as Lucien just nodded his head as he drank from his cup.

“Can you do that to my hair?” Cassian asked.

“Why?” You asked.

“Because I like it, and it will keep it out my face while I eat,” he said.

“Why not ask me?” Nesta said.

“Because I know you will say no,” Cassian shrugged his shoulders.

“Fair,” Nesta replied as you got out your chair and rounded the table to the other side.

“I wish I had long hair,” Rhys pouted.

“No, you don't,” Feyre said as she patted his shoulder as you stood behind Cassian's chair and started braiding. Everyone began talking about their mornings, chattering back and forth. Every now and then Cassian would move too much, and you would have to push him back in the chair.

“Sit still Cass or you’ll mess it up!” You rolled your eyes at the restless male.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as you continued with his hair.

Mor began talking about having the group do something together to bond after all that’s happened. Everyone at the table agreed except for Rhysand. You looked at him as you finished braiding one side of Cassian's head. It looked like he was deep in thought. He wasn’t talking to Feyre because her and Mor were bouncing group ideas off each other. Cassian, Nesta, and Lucien listened to their conversation, so he wasn’t relaying anything to them either. What could he be thinking about, you wondered.

Suddenly, his gaze snapped to you. Those piercing violet eyes assessing you. You were just now braiding the other side of Cassian’s head.

“What? Does it look bad or something?” you asked.

Rhys shook his head, “No it looks fine, but I cannot help but sense something off about you y/n.” His eyes twinkled as they took a quick glance at your hands. You followed his gaze. He was looking at your hands! Did the glamour wear off?! You panicked, you looked at your wrists while braiding Cassian's hair and saw no swirls of flame. What the fuck is he on about then?

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” you finished the braid you were working on and began to put them together into a high bun. Those always looked best on Cassian.

“Oh really? Y/n, you must forget I am a high lord. I can sense ALL magic,” he put major emphasizes on the word all. Just then it hit you. Rhysand is a high lord. Your high lord, and the most powerful one at that. He can sense all magic… even glamours.

You shot him a look as you tried to keep your hands focused on Cassian’s bun. All Rhysand did was smile at you as you felt the familiar caress of claws on your mental shield. “You have a glamour on, don’t you?” he spoke to you in your head.

“Get out my head you prying prick,” you thought outside your walls.

“What are you hiding y/n?” he purred. His claws once again cascading down your shields.

“Cassian do you have a hair tie?” you asked as he mindlessly handed you one, you were now securing his hair.

“I am serious Rhys, get out of my head,” you thought back, but he kept his presence in your head as he crossed his arms at the table. If you kept yourself occupied with Cassian’s hair and maybe he will go away.

“I am not going until you tell me why you are glamoured. What are you hiding y/n?” His voice felt foreign in your mind, but he was still respectful. The power and information he has on you right now was overwhelming. You could feel your shields slipping at it. You tried to re-ground yourself with the feeling of Cassian’s hair, but you ended up giving into Rhysand. He already knows everything. You could trust him. The people you were hiding from aren’t even here. You let your shield down to show him the image of your wrists. You could see his eyes lighten in surprise as his cheeks grew a shade darker.

“I told you not to pry,” you thought inside your mind.

“He can do that?” he thought back to you in shock.

“Yes,” you thought back.

You bit your lip slightly as you started to reminisce about it, completely forgetting your shields were still down. Rhysand seeing everything before you could stop it. You quickly finished securing Cassian’s hair before you clapped him on the shoulder with an “All done!”

“WOAH!” Rhysand shouted out loud at the images of you and Lucien flashing through your mind, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. You slammed your shields backup in an instant. Rhysand’s face now completely pink.

“What?” Cassin asked confused as Rhysand coughed.

Please come up with something good Rhys... you thought.

“Nothing! Your hair just looks really good like that brother,” Rhysand mused.

“Awe Rhysie Poo- am I so handsome with this hair that it made you blush?” Cassian got up to smother Rhys in a hug.

“Yes, it’d be even better with a bow!” Rhys laughed as he bopped Cassian’s newly braided bun.

“That’s what I think too, but Lucien said no!” You tried to remain calm and continue as normally as possible as you made your way back to your seat. Thank fuck for Rhysand coming up with a cleaver cover up story.

Lucien shrugged, “It would not go well with my outfit.” Everyone at the table laughed.

Rhysand couldn’t look at you or the male without blushing. He has seen too much, but gods it was true everyone undermined the autumn court male’s power in the bedroom.

“What’s got everyone in such a good mood?” Elain asked sweetly as she entered the room with Azriel at her side. Lucien imediently tensed at the sight of them together. You on the other hand were ready to strike at any given moment, scared she might attack you for sitting next to Lucien.

“Rhysand got all hot and bothered over my new hairstyle Y/n did for me,” Cassian boomed as Elain blushed uncomfortably at his words. Azriel laughed at his brothers, your heart skipping a beat at the sound. Damn thing always betraying you when he's around.

“Well I'll be dammed Rhys, you’re picking favorites now?” Azriel smirked as he pulled Elain’s chair out for her beside Nesta.

“Absolutely not! This-” his hands wave around Cassian’s hair, “just threw me off guard! I’m so used to his hair being all up in his face,” Rhysand said as he watched Azriel sit next to Elain.

“It is rather nice to see your face again Cass,” Feyre teased and he glared at her, “Now that everyone is here, let’s eat!”

At the snap of her fingers the entire table was filled with all sorts of breakfast foods. From fresh fruits to eggs and bacon, the table had it all.

“Thank fuck-” Cassian said as he started to pile food onto his plate, everyone following suit. Filling their plates with whatever they pleased.

“Good morning, Elain, how did you sleep?” Lucien asked her as he buttered a bagel, not really hungry after your snack earlier. Azriel smiled at the question, and your blood boiled. You knew that smirk all too well. Lucien had that same smirk when Mor asked about why you braided his hair. Something happened between them and you were dead set on finding out about it.

Elain’s sweet stature faltered for a moment before she recomposed herself and answered, “I slept good.”

“That’s good to hear,” Lucien said awkwardly not expecting the conversation to be that short.

“Good going dude,” you whispered to him.

“I’d like to see you try-” you kicked him under the table. “Ouch-”

“Shut your mouth before I do it for y-” he kicked you back, you glared at him as you rubbed your shin. “Ass-” before you could finish your name calling Mor interrupted you, Lucien only laughed.

“So, Feyre and I were discussing about having a group bonding day today. Everyone else agreed to it, what do you think Azriel?” Mor asked.

“Sounds fine,” he said blandly as he took a bite of eggs as Elain spoke beside him.

“I think that’s a great idea Mor!”

“Okay so it is settled! We will have a group bonding session today!” Mor said as she raised her glass of water and drank it.

"This outta be interesting," Rhysand said with a smile.

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[universallydestinytaco]

SF Fandom Rant

CW: Half-Way Jokingly Unhinged Nerd Rage

EDIT: Just to clarify I was there when Adult Swim announced the festival and unveiled what it was going to look like before opening, I didn't get to go but I wish I did.

What kinda frustrates me is when some fans who think they've been in this fandom for long enough say some silly nonsense like "Oooh Pim is underrated or not as loved as the other main characters he needs more love (ToT)"....Meanwhile as someone who has obsessively-compulsively scurried in and out of EVERY SINGLE MAIN TAG FOR SMILING FRIENDS on almost all social media sites (plus countless YouTube comment sections and that WRETCHED troglodyte-ridden shitgutter known as Reddit) I can confirm that this entire fandom has always been overflowing with an endless supply of Pim fanworks, cosplays, getting shipped with Charlie and various other characters canon AND fanmade (plus quite a bit of selfshipping) or comments gushing about how cute and sweet he is...not to mention Charpim is obviously THE most popular ship in the fandom from what I've seen on A03! All the Pim fanworks and whatnot get a shit ton of attention too, they get TONS of likes and comments! Also on a sidenote, polls I've seen voting for one's favorite character, Pim is either second and in one or two cases, even first in Favorite Character polls while either Alan or Glep are at the bottom, not to say that either character mentioned are unpopular in fact FAR from it considering I spent so much time browsing fanworks for this show, trust me. Glep is a little meme machine and Alan is a he/him sapphic icon because of all the fangirls he has!

And furthermore, a testament to Pim's popularity being much bigger than one would expect is when I was there when Adult Swim's annual festival was unveiled to the masses on their socials and every single one of us online that day collectively losing our heads (hehe) over this lovely sight:

This image was spreading around like wildfire + the comment sections where mostly talking about Pim's bulbous, perfectly-round head.

"Underrated" my ass, Pim gets A TON of well-deserved love in this fandom, honestly you know who's the most underrated Smiling Friend? My baby girl Smormu where's all the cute Smormu fanart and fanfics you cowards!? I mean look at this lil' cutie go!

*slams fists on table dramatically* WHERE'S MY SMORMU CONTENT DAMMIT!?

*Nasally Laugh* Okay in all seriousness I know Smormu was made as a joke but can y'all stop making Pim out to be a forgotten/underrated character like he's some scrapped character from the pilot? There are plenty of unpopular/underrated characters on this show I can name on the back of my hand because I scrutinize every bit of trivia surrounding this show (like Zoey, Marge, Mr. Boss to some extent but less-so since S2, Jennifer, Desmond...) and Pim is NOT one of them! Thanks for coming to my TED talk, byeeee.

(PS. Be sure to check back on this lil ol' blog of mine for the latest chapter of my mushy Charpim fanfic dropping later tonight 😉)

[earthtodora]

okay, so first of all, i apologize to nobara truthers. never should have doubted y'all.

secondly. i am very vocal about my love towards megumi and how i believe that he is an amazingly written character with so much depth and backstory. he is my absolute favorite, and i would give up my soul for him in a heartbeat.

i know that a lot of megumi fans see 267 as disappointing because 266 built up megumi's comeback as this really big moment, and then he was completely sidelined and the focus was put onto nobara's comeback. while i'm not gonna go as far as to say i agree, i do understand where those feelings are coming from. it wasn't what we were hoping for, and i know a lot of us were let down.

however, i don't feel like the momentum is completely lost, and there is still a chance that he can have a moment just as powerful, if not more.

the thing is, nobara's purpose isn't just dealing that unexpected blow of resonance. i believe her comeback is something that might give megumi another push and show him that there's not only yuuji out there for him to lean on, but nobara too. and while their relationship is by no means as strong, they have been through a lot together and she is one of the people he cares about most. i think it will be good for him to see that the person who was so close to being killed is back, and that he didn't lose a friend that day.

i think this chapter built up an amazing opportunity for 268 to be about megumi's return. it would make his comeback stronger and more meaningful. the stage is set and the pieces are all there, now all we need is someone to put them together.

now, this is just hopeful thinking, but i really think that megumi and yuuji can still absolutely have that big moment in 268.

i know gege fumbled a lot, but i trust that he won't throw all of the goodwill he's earned away and completely let go of this opportunity.

[quazikam]

just scrolling through tags and there is a disappointing lack of my personal favorite ot3- akasaimota(or saimotamatsu, or whatever else you can call Shuichi x Kaede x Kaito)

I love Shuichi's dynamic with them so much, Kaede being the early supporter of him, with Kaito helping him along after ch 1

This ship has mostly existed in my mind before as just Shuichi's pathetic crushes on the sweethearts that are Akamatsu and Momota but I think it's possible now after replaying v3(far too many times)that they might have had feelings for Shuichi back(or I'm just coping who knows)

For saimatsu, I think my main point is her FTE's in the extras mode- particularly the 4th free time event, I think it's adorable how obvious it is that she's trying to scope out Saihara's interests before just going fuck it and trying to see what kind of a date he would like(all the while he's absolutely oblivious lol) I could also argue the entirety of chapter one could be used as evidence but I'd rather not get super in depth for this

(as a side note, I also just want to mention the love hotel event- I know it's not canon at all, but I do think it's a neat tidbit that in Kaede's fantasy, she mentions her ideal to have a "passive side" that she loves- just thought that was super sweet)

saimota- I think it's best I keep this brief for now lol

and then the last bit is kaimatsu(or kaemota)- not really much rooted in canon here, I just think they could get closer in another scenario, they definitely have positive vibes and try to uplift the group and keep them going forward similarly, so I think it would work pretty well

yeah, and I feel like Shuichi would be the main person is the group that needs the positivity from the others, but Kaito and Kaede aren't perfect either, and we've seen that Shuichi can support his friends in tough times, so he should be able to help them just as much as they help him in the long run

yeah nothing much besides that, just wanted to share how awesome this ship is with y'all

[alexxncl]

‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 46 SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | all lessons | season 3 | lesson 45.1 | lesson 45.2 | lesson 47

i'll probaboy be moving my baby sister into college when this queues up 🥲 sob sob

slight lesson 76 spoilers

we love to see more of a lighthearted lesson

ah yes, siblings 🫶🏽 levi is me, i am levi

i also love the fact that luci, mams, levi, and simeon are all working together to help mammon

it's clear how much they all adore him even if they're shitheads sometimes (read: most of the time)

anyone else having war flashbacks to cocytus? no? just me? kay.

see now they're just making up words bc what are we talking about 😭 also love how they didn't bother to make a 2D CG picture for it bc it's never gonna be mentioned in another lesson after this point

...i'd have to kms

imagine every step you take leads to a blood curdling scream...everybody's dying idc

"dear, sweet henry 1.0" my ASS

homeboy didn't even remember you when y'all were trapped in that made and had to get charmed by asmo 😭

...unless that was his way of telling levi to make new friends, just like the way he left levi in the anime bc levi had no friends outside of henry

but i also wanna see the full extent of mammon's power 🧍🏾 the devs need to stop giving us cut scenes every time my man steps up to fight a monster

that's hilarious actually

imagine some lower level demon actually ended up getting eaten bc they couldn't beat the monsters and the "research" was all in vain

leave it to me to read too far into things 🤞🏽

example x of mammon being lucifer's favorite and most trusted brother

regardless of how dumb mammon thinks a task is, he'll do his best to get it done as perfectly as possible if it means keeping up a good image for lucifer or making lucifer happy. lucifer knows this despite rarely, if ever, admitting it to himself, mammon, or anyone else, and that's why he trusts mammon with serious shit when the situation calls for it

granted, the speech mammon is giving probably wasn't orchestrated by lucifer, but the way it goes still reflects on him and diavolo, and mammon knows better than to make his big brother and the future demon king look bad in front of who knows how many people

MAMMON SIMPS HOW WE FEELING????

they absolutely would've fucked backstage if he wasn't up next for his speech /srs

they fucked in the back of class and they'd do it again BOP BOP

also mammon's speech being "get off your lazy asses and go touch grass" was easily the best idol about this lesson. 10/10 writing

about the first screenshot, why is nobody in-game verbally commenting on simeon wearing his angelic clothes ??? didn't he stop wearing them as soon as he fell from grace in the og timeline ?????

or maybe this is a result of too many time soup shenanigans. maybe his body can't tell if he's human or still an angel

but it's clear that everyone's noticed something's off with simeon even if they haven't said anything to him verbally, which is why luke was so hellbent on mc asking simeon if he was okay. but nobody's outright saying anything bc this mf will deny any and every concern thrown at him with a smile on his face. he won't even tell mc what's going on, so lucifer had to step in

ending the hard bonus chapter like this was VILE but in the best way possible