#and at least four kids if not more have gotten it since october

[monotonous-minutia]

so for the last two years I went to see The Nutcracker live at my local performing arts center; but this winter COVID's been coming back with a vengeance in my city so I'm opting out. I'd still like to engage in it though and while I love the one I have saved on spotify I'd also like to watch it. does anyone have suggestions for a recording of a full performance of The Nutcracker that's on youtube or somewhere else online?

thanks in advance!

[andreafmn]

Kinktober ⛓️ Day 20

Word Count: 3.1K Paring:  Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader Prompt @kinktober2023: Foodplay WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ (minors DNI), food play, oral (male and female receiving)

Summary: Stiles Stilinski is forgetful. Everyone knows that, but no one more than his girlfriend (Y/N). There have been far too many occasions where the boy has forgotten special events or details for her to be mad when he fails to mention they have only one afternoon to bake a hundred cupcakes for a bake sale. And, instead of growing angry, she goes down a sweet turn.

A/N: I should be ashamed how long it has taken me to finish this damn series, but at least we are one step closer. Hopefully I finish before october 🫣🫣

MASTERLIST

In hindsight, volunteering to make a hundred cupcakes for a fundraising bake sale wasn’t the best idea. Even if it was for the lacrosse team, it sort of ended in disaster. Sweet, sweet disaster. 

It was the first time since Stiles had been on the team that the lacrosse Cyclones had made it to the state competition, and they were not ready for the financial toll it would take. Since Jackson had left the school, most of the sports teams had their budgets slashed, as the Whittmores felt no need to continue contributing to their son’s extracurriculars. 

However, the kids at Beacon Hills High School were nothing if not resilient, and they were determined to get the team to Santa Barbara. 

Somehow, the idea of a bake sale made its way to the top of the fundraising list, and everyone and their mother had to come up with an item to bring to the school. Somehow, Stiles had roped him and (Y/N) into baking a hundred cupcakes by Monday morning, and it just so happened that it was Sunday afternoon. 

It wasn’t the first time Stiles had gotten them in a pressing situation—most times, it was more life and death, but nevertheless, still pressing. The worst part was, he’d only just told his girlfriend two hours before they had to get to work. The pair had quite a long night ahead of them. Not that (Y/N) wasn’t used to it. 

If the girl ever said that Stiles forgetting crucial details was a sporadic event, she’d be lying. In the years they had known each other, it had become a staple in their relationship. Even when they were only friends, she’d had to make sure anything they were meant to do was told to her first, or else she’d only find out when it was too late.

(Y/N) didn’t mind, though. She understood that the boy’s brain had always been riddled with far too many thoughts, and juggling it all could be quite frustrating. That’s why, when he woke her from her Sunday morning sleep-in, she simply said she’d shower, change, and head to his house. The girl knew he hadn’t done it in malice, so there was no point in being angry at him. At least he had remembered. 

Thankfully, the journey wasn’t long since all she had to do was walk to the house next door. But she did notice the lack of a sheriff cruiser on the driveway. Only Stiles’ blue Jeep stood there, a layer of dirt gathered on the paint. Not only were they meant to bake a hundred cupcakes and decorate them, but they had to do it by themselves. And (Y/N) could only laugh at the situation. 

“Stiles, I’m here,” she called out as she walked into his house as she had done a million times before. “I hope you’ve already gotten started.”

“Well, about that,” he chuckled awkwardly. It wasn’t until the girl walked into his kitchen that she saw he had only gone as far as getting the groceries they needed. “I didn’t know where to start, so I was waiting for you to get here.” 

“This is gonna be a long night, huh?” she sighed with a smile as the boy nodded. “Alright then. Let’s get to work.” 

In a matter of minutes, (Y/N) had set a game plan for the pair. She divided the ingredients into four stations for the four flavors they’d be doing, making sure that each recipe was visible and easy to follow. The last thing they needed were more setbacks. They only had so many hours to do 25 cupcakes of each flavor and make sure they were cool enough to be decorated. Everything had to be done precisely as written. 

And for the first couple of hours, it had worked. Stiles and (Y/N) were working together like a well-oiled machine. While one mixed, the other served. While one set the timer, the other cleaned. It was all coming together nicely—too nicely. 

It was only a matter of time before disaster struck. 

Stiles had started to grow angsty with the repetitive tasks, his veins itching for more spontaneity. He knew he had brought this upon himself. Worse even, he had brought it upon (Y/N) as well, who, for some reason, never seemed annoyed with his constant brain scatters. Since he had known her, she had always been understanding of the way his brain worked. Where others would have chastised or criticized him, she took the time to ground him. It had been one of the many reasons he found himself falling in love with her. No matter how many times he would screw up, she was always supportive and sympathetic, finding ways to help him rather than bring him down. 

And that afternoon was no different. 

They were merely done with the vanilla cupcakes when Stiles had begun to grow bored. (Y/N) had instructed him to put away the dirty bowls and whisks used for that flavor before they started on the chocolate ones, but all he could think about was the chocolate syrup he had bought to drizzle on top of the dessert. His mind filled with some very unhygienic ways he could use the sweet liquid and where he could use it. 

Suddenly, as though she had been reading his mind, the girl took the bottle and let it stream into her mouth. A few drops landed on her chin, and she wiped them up with her fingers before popping the digits back into her mouth. There was no subtext to it. Just a girl enjoying chocolate syrup. 

But in Stiles’ everything was different. Wind was blowing her hair back, the lights had dimmed, and sensual music played in the background, all in slow motion. He was turned away from (Y/N) at the sink when he felt his erection press against the zipper of his pants, making for a very uncomfortable position as he washed the dishes. Stiles moved his legs from side to side, pressing his knees together as he searched for some much-needed friction. 

But to (Y/N), he looked like he had been holding his pee in for the past few hours. “If you have to go to the bathroom, you can, Stiles,” she chuckled as she slithered her arms around his waist, grinning as he stiffened under her touch. “I don’t mind cleaning this up.” 

“Oh, uh, that’s not it,” he stammered awkwardly. “I don’t really have to pee.” 

“You can take a break if you want, then,” she said. “I know this is not the most thrilling task. At least, not compared to chasing down supernatural creatures. But you still made the compromise, so we have to get this done tonight.” 

“Yeah, I know,” he continued fidgeting. His front was pressed against the counter, trying his best to keep his hardening bulge from her sight. “I just need a second.” 

(Y/N) noticed the way Stiles froze against the counter, not even turning to give her a kiss on the cheek like he normally did. Instead, he washed the same bowl three times before noticing that he had yet to take another dish. His legs were pressed together, and his knees buckled back and forth in search of… friction, she realized. Her boyfriend was sporting a raging hard-on while they baked cookies. 

She couldn’t fathom what about their situation had turned him on. They were covered in flour from their hair to their clothes, they had been standing for a couple of hours, and they hadn’t as much as touched hands since they had begun working. But the sweet taste in her mouth reminded her of what she had done only a few minutes before. The image of (Y/N) dripping chocolate into her mouth sparked a vivid picture in the boy’s head, and he succumbed to his wild imagination. 

Any other girl would have ignored their boyfriend’s problem and focused on their long task. They had no time to waste, and certainly not many ingredients to spare. But (Y/N) wasn’t any other person, and she couldn’t let such a moment pass her by. For that split second, she thanked her lucky stars the Sherriff had gone to work, and the couple had the whole house to themselves. Things were about to get messy, and the carpet in his bedroom was hard to clean. 

“Are you, by chance, turned on right now, baby?” (Y/N) purred in his ear as she ran her hands up his chest. “Are you seriously thinking about sex when we have so much to do?” 

“I, uh, well, you know,” he stammered. “Things happen.”

“And what happened, Stiles?” she continued, sliding her hands now downward and landing on his cock. She squeezed it softly, chuckling as he whined at the touch. “What got you all hot and bothered?” 

“Oh, uh, n-nothing really,” he replied. (Y/N) unhanded him then, allowing him to let out a breath of relief. “You know us teenage boys and our hair-thin trigger.”

“Right,” the girl said. “Turn around, Stiles.”

“I’m quite good here,” Stiles chuckled awkwardly. “I just need a minute.”

“Stiles, baby,” she called. “Turn around. I need to see you.

Once he did, he regretted not turning around sooner. Behind him, (Y/N) stood in nothing but her underwear, a mischievous grin adorning her face. In one hand, she held the bottle of syrup that had started it all. In the other, a can of whipped cream. And all Stiles could do was groan as his already painfully hard erection pressed against the seam of his jeans. 

“W-what are you doing, (Y/N)?” he swallowed hard. “We, uh… you, uh…” 

“I told you, babe,” she smirked. “You need a break.” 

Stiles didn’t need to be told twice as he crossed the room to reach her. He took the image of her in, running his eyes from her head to her toes, as though he had never seen her in that way before. And, well, to him, that’s what it always felt like. (Y/N) was everything he had ever dreamed of, and most of the time, he felt like he had fallen asleep and never woken up when he was with her. 

“You seem very intrigued by this bottle of chocolate, Stiles,” she teased, giggling softly as he placed his hands on her hips. “Is there something you wanna tell me? Maybe a little kink we’ve never explored before.” 

“I didn’t know I had it until today,” the boy confessed. “The thought just popped into my head, and now, well, it’s all I’ve been able to think about.” 

“So, what do you want to do with this, baby?” (Y/N) whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Tell me what you want.” 

A groan escaped Stiles as she pressed her body against his, his hands exploring the exposed skin of her hips. The cupcakes were long forgotten, and all he could focus on was the excitement he felt to fulfill the fantasy he had dreamed of only a few minutes before. “Whatever you want,” he said. “I don’t care where you use it as long as I get to lick it off your body.” 

“You’re giving me so much freedom,” she smiled. “Hope you don’t regret it later.” 

“I don’t think I could ever regret anything that has to do with you, babe.” 

“Well then, let’s start you off slow.” (Y/N) unhanded Stiles before letting a stream of chocolate fall into her mouth, allowing a bit to drip down her chin and neck. “Oh, no! I’ve made a mess of myself.” 

Laughing at her overexaggerated acting, Stiles licked his lips before running his tongue from her neck up to her chin, reveling in the taste of her skin mixed with the chocolate. Mixing food with sex had never been something he had thought to do, but after the first taste, he wondered why it had taken him so long to do so.

The way (Y/N) sighed as he licked away the liquid made his cock twitch in his pants, yearning for a touch he knew would take time. And he didn’t mind. Especially after his girlfriend removed her bra and let the bottle of syrup drip down her chest, exciting him even further. 

He seemed like a starved man as he feasted on the girl’s breasts, making sure not a single drop of chocolate was left. He lapped at her skin, traveling the expanse of her chest before landing on the hardened peaks of her breasts. He nipped and sucked as he teased her, chuckling softly as she moaned and threaded her fingers through his hair. Chocolate on (Y/N)’s skin shouldn’t have excited him as much as it did, but he would risk a cavity if it meant tasting her this way every chance he got. 

Even though (Y/N) had been the one to initiate contact, it didn’t take long for Stiles to take control of the situation. As he kissed his way down her stomach, he hooked his fingers through the elastic of her underwear and pulled it off until she was completely exposed to him. Then, he took the bottle from her hand and let it drip on her skin until it reached her cunt. His eyes were trained on the drops of brown that stained her body, watching as it slowly moved. 

Before it could reach the ground, Stiles licked it up, groaning as he tasted her wetness mixed with the sweetness of the chocolate. If he had ever questioned what the nectar of the gods tasted like, after that afternoon, he’d gotten his answer. He lapped at her core like a starving man, acting as though she was his first and last meal. 

(Y/N) braced herself with the counter behind her as Stiles hooked one of her legs on his shoulder for better access to her cunt. He teased her clit with his tongue, the syrup long gone but the sweetness forever lingering. He circled the bundle of nerves with the tip, applying just enough pressure to have her panting and moaning. 

“Fuck, baby,” she groaned. “I’m so close.”

All Stiles could do was send vibrations through her body with a chuckle. He wanted her to come undone in his mouth, to have her knees buckle under the weight of the orgasm he was giving her. Because, regardless of where he was lacking, the Stilinski boy was always giving. 

He was relentless in his pursuit of her climax, sucking and flicking, waiting for the tell-tale signs that she was reaching her end. Signs that weren’t too far behind as he continued his attack. She threaded her fingers back into his hair, pulling at the strands while she pushed his head tight against her until, with a loud shriek of his name, she came. 

She pulled him to his feet as she recovered, crashing her lips onto his. She tasted herself in his mouth and moaned at the mix with the chocolate. “That was…,” the girl panted with a laugh. “Who knew you’d be this excited over a little chocolate?”

“Well, you know I’ve always had a bit of a sweet tooth,” he grinned. “I’m just surprised it took this long for us to do something like this.”

“Oh, and we’re not done yet,” she said. In a swift move, (Y/N) flipped them over, pressing Stiled against the counter as she reached for the can of whipped cream behind them. “It’s your turn, baby.”

“What’re you…?”

Before he could continue, the girl’s hands were unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down his legs, his boxers following in tow. She smiled as his erection sprung free, red and wet from the anticipation. Poor thing looked like it was ready to burst. And who was she to deny it the touch it was yearning for? 

With a playful smile on her face, (Y/N) took hold of the base of his cock, chuckling as he took in a sharp breath at the touch. She then squirted a line of cream on his length, licking the excess from the tip of the can before turning back to Stiles. The boy stared at her with giddy anticipation, trembling as she hovered over him. Her breath tickled his skin, making his body erupt in goosebumps as he waited for her to move.

And, as much as she wanted to toy with him, (Y/N) knew how long he had already been waiting for, and they still had so much to do. So, instead of making him work for it, she swirled the tip of her tongue around Stiles’ cockhead, making him grow weak at the knees. The taste alone was enough to make her want more. 

She ran her tongue across his length, memorizing the feeling of his skin on her tongue, the mix of his pre with the silky sweet of the whipped cream, and the way Stiles bucked his hips forward. It was a mix she wanted to experience again, sooner rather than later. 

Once she was satisfied with the cleanup job, (Y/N) finally engulfed her mouth around Stles’ cock, drawing out a loud groan from the boy. She knew he was not going to last long, but she would make them the best few minutes of his day. 

(Y/N) started at a slow pace, burying him in the wetness of her mouth while she swirled her tongue around his shaft. But with the way Stiles was wriggling with every stroke, she sped up quickly. Her head moved up and down rapidly, one hand gripping the base of his cock while the other worked to massage his tightening balls. 

“Oh, god, baby,” he croaked out. “Fuck, I’m almost there—don’t stop.” 

And she wasn’t planning to. Instead, she kept her pace, letting him reach the back of her throat as she sucked her cheeks in. She bobbed her head until saliva was dripping down her chin, and her breath was being cut off. Just like he had done for her, she was working to reach his climax—that wasn’t too far behind. 

All it took was a perfectly timed squeeze of his balls, and Stiles was stuttering forward, holding (Y/N)’s head as he emptied himself in her mouth. Strand after strand painted the inside of her mouth until there was nothing left, and with a satisfied grunt, he exited her mouth. 

Still knelt on the floor, (Y/N) swallowed Stiles’ finish before looking directly into his eyes and squirting whipped cream into her mouth. She said, “Much better,” and stood up. 

Stiles grabbed the sides of her face and kissed her roughly, sighing at their mixed tastes in his mouth. “That really was something else,” he smiled as he released her. “We have to try that again.” 

“Tell you what,” she grinned. “If we finish these cupcakes on schedule, I can promise you a very sweet treat after.” 

“Then why are we standing here?” Stiles exclaimed as he pulled up his pants. “Let’s get this done!” 

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[elisedonut]

it's not October yet but I just know I'll forget about this once it is October, so for the ask game,

trick or treat!!!!

Thank you for playing! Here is a random Drabble for you <3

it's technically a Flintwood soulmate au but Flint doesn't really appear here so-

it also has a small side of Perclin because i have no self control sorry

Blank Letter Lines (Ao3 link)

WC: 644

Oliver Wood had never cared much about having a soulmate. 

He knew that everyone had one, he knew that supposedly they were who was best for him. Whatever that means. It just wasn’t something he ever put a lot of thought into. He looked down at the letter lines that marred his wrist, still smudged and unreadable even now well into his twenties and sighed.

– – – – – –   – – – – –

‘The more you want it the more clear the name is, dove.’

His mum used to tell him before watching the lines with an intensity he hadn’t understood at the time. Still doesn’t, if he was being honest with himself.  Saying it less and less as the years passed. As if time alone had made its unreadability into more of a curse. It’s not like he didn’t want to know. Or at least- Oliver didn’t think he didn’t want it. It just only crossed his mind when others brought it up. When others talked about their own. 

Then was left again to be forgotten once the conversation had passed. When he mind became preoccupied with other more important things, like quidditch.

Laying back in bed, he stared at the lack of letters even more intensely. Willing them to change into something. He’d accept any name at all if it just meant his mum would stop looking so disappointed when he visits.

Closing his eyes he tries to think about his soulmate but it doesn’t take long for his thoughts to wander once again. Back to when he was a first year and talking about soulmates with the others.

‘Weasley already has his soulmate’s name.’

He remembers hearing people saying during their first year. He even remembers how it had looked back then, a messy, barely legible scrawl of letters inked into Percy’s skin. Letters that did grow steadily neater as the years passed.

Though they never did quite reach the neatness of Percy’s own handwriting. Leaving it still scrawled and rushed looking.

They had been in their dorm room the first time Oliver had really asked about it. He hadn’t even considered it was possible to have the full name so early. Most of the others in their year only have one or two at best. Which had made it even more unbelievable when Percy had told him he’d had it since he was six. Even if it was apparently only when nearing his first year that it became legible enough to actually read.

“That handwriting’s about as bad as my little sister’s and she’s four.” One of their roommates had said dumbfounded.

Percy had gotten defensive immediately, “I'm pretty sure they’re a bit younger than me. One of my older brother’s, William- his is the same way. It only started becoming legible around the time mine appeared.” 

“Do all of you already have them?” Oliver had asked.

“Well no– not really.” Percy had said offhandedly, “Charlie’s wrist is still completely blank. He doesn’t even have letter lines or anything. Then, Ginny, she outright refuses to even think about her’s, because the blank spots don’t match up to Harry Potter.”

Oliver couldn’t help the surprised laugh that bubbled out of him.

“Yes I know, she’s madly obsessed with him though. She’s taken to drawing on an extra letter line every single morning and claiming it’s always been like that.”

Opening his eyes again he contemplates Flooing to see Percy or maybe even just sending an owl before he talks himself out of it. 

Percy is his best friend but it’s not like he’s ever really understood his issue with this. He’d known about Colin for practically as long as he was alive. Oliver could still remember Percy’s hand gripping his so tight when the kid was being sorted. Could still remember Percy’s disappointment when his name didn’t seem familiar to him immediately. 

Sparing one more glance at the empty lines Oliver sighs and decides to just go out for a fly, he’ll feel better once he’s in the air.

[fiddles-ifs]

The Box is Open. THE BOX IS OPEN

A VERY MERRY GREENWARDEN HOLIDAY

Warden’s winter season is marked by Christmas lights and tinsel on phone poles, bright snowflakes in green and red and white lit up when the sun goes down. There’s even a few chanukiyot in shop windows, gelt sold in the grocery stores. It’s also fucking cold. 

The mountains freeze early. It’s been snowing since October up here, but it’s only just now been cold enough for the river to go solid, enough that there are kids daring each other to seal slide across when their parents aren’t looking. They wear layers of socks on their hands, four coats and as many pairs of jeans, and little toboggans with puffs of color at their crowns or WVU stitched on their foreheads. You smile, shake your head, and breathe warm air into your numb fingers. It’s better than hurricane season in Florida, at least.

Devin and Nazeri sent you out to get last-minute groceries, things that they were too busy bickering to remember. They’ve set aside their differences -- mostly -- to keep the holiday somewhat calm. It’s still Irish Christmas at Devin’s house, though. Utter chaos.

The bags are heavy in your hands. You’ve gotten offers from a few, cautious Wardenites to hop in their car and they’ll drive you up the holler, but you’ve declined every time. You kind of like the walk now. It’s brisk, you get to see the decorations, and the eerie cracking of river ice as it thaws and refreezes is oddly peaceful.

You pass under the boughs of branches, and the whispers start. The steady pressure on the back of your skull. A shiver rolls down your spine.

...calm...

You stop on the trail, head tilted, straining to listen. Your ears rumble with blood.

...happy...

...Nothing.

You roll your shoulders and shake the tension from your head, a huff of hot air crystalizing and dissipating. The pressure subsides, just a bit, but noticeable. A contented big cat curling up for a nap. You walk a little faster down the trail.

Devin’s foyer is welcome warmth, Dean Martin’s crooner voice blaring through the TV speakers. It smells like God. Your mouth immediately gets sloppy wet, and when you walk into the kitchen to set the bags down, you already see Devin threatening Trace with a wooden spoon.

“Go on! Git!”

She scampers, muttley laughing, one of Devin’s homemade bread rolls in her mouth. Nazeri is on savory duty, reading over Devin’s recipe book.

“Are you sure I should put cumin in this?” He asks. Devin eyes him from whatever batter they’re whipping into shape.

“I’m sure.”

“I just think cardamom would be better-”

“I have stuff,” you haul the grocery bags onto the kitchen island before another fight kicks up. Both of them light up at the sight of you. Bautista pokes her head from around the overstuffed chair. She’s curled around a hot cup of coffee. The monstrously huge stack of firewood by the fireplace and her cherry red nose tells you all you need to know about what she’s been up to. You ask anyway.

“They won’t let me in the kitchen,” she says.

“Because you’re bud luck,” Devin rifles through the bags and pulls out produce, spices, and booze under Trace’s watchful eye. “She managed to burn rice. Rice!”

“Is that what happened while I was gone?” You chuckle. Not that you’re much better -- you have the sneaking suspicion Devin and Nazeri sent you to the store to get you out of the house. Otherwise, you’d be causing even more chaos. All of you woke up early this morning to make breakfast and get dinner done before Polar Express comes on this evening, and Devin quickly chased all but Nazeri out of the kitchen because the rest of you are functionally useless with anything but coffee makers and microwaves. Now, dinner is in its last vestiges.

You ladle a little eggnog into a cup and sip, casting around at the Kwanzaa kinara, the nativity scene, and Bautista’s dinky little handmade parols. Trace made paper snowflakes and plastered them to the walls with Scotch tape. She has her ear next to the speaker, quietly tapping away with her finger. It feels strangely like family. It’s not a feeling you’ve felt for years. Something stings, and something balms a wound.

You hide your face behind your mug for a bit.

You manage to slip in somehow, pre-rinsing dishes and running the dishwasher. It lessens the load a little, while Bautista and Trace play ninja in the living room. Sometimes you tag in. Trace wins. You and Bautista take bets on who would win at the game -- Nazeri or Trace; Devin chimes in with a five dollar wager, and then it’s on.

The ninja game lasts until Devin serves dinner for everyone. You curl up by the nativity scene with a plate of roast chicken, lumpia, tahdig. A second round of mashed potatoes, gravy, and green beans. A little bit of pie, a little bit of ice cream. You eat until your stomach hurts and your eyes droop, curled with hot chocolate. Even Nazeri and Devin are laughing at each others jokes.

Polar Express is an uglier movie than you remember, but it sparks a nostalgic part of you. None of you do Noche Buena -- Devin and Nazeri don’t celebrate, Trace doesn’t know what it is, and Bautista can’t stay awake too long. She’s got a two hour drive tomorrow to catch morning mass at the nearest Catholic church. Habits. If she doesn’t get a solid six hours, she won’t wake up.

You swallow a yawn beside Devin on the couch.

“Thanks for doing this for us,” you mutter, everyone enraptured by Tom Hanks’ eclectic hot chocolate burlesque.

“Sure,” they say, “you’re family now, pretty much.”

You can’t really argue. Not tonight, anyway.

It feels good to be family.

[maccreadysbaby]

AHHHHHHHHHH I loved single dad logan!!!! I’m hooked on these two and their boys! Wouldn’t be mad if there was another post about them? 👀

Hehehehehe okay 🥰

< prev part

next part >

A CALL TO WAR™︎

Y/n, Logan, McKade, and Elliot were living the good life. It didn’t take long for the boys to warm up to calling both parents mom and dad

after their wedding (which was held in Y/n’s hometown), and a lot of consideration, they decided they would be happier out of the city and somewhere else, like Louisiana where Y/n grew up

something about quiet country nights just seemed like the most peaceful and beautiful place to raise their (almost) teenagers

the boys were twelve when they decided, screw it, they were moving across the country. It was closer to Y/n’s family, closer to where a few of Logan’s relatives and friends had settled down, closer to everything and nothing all at once

surprisingly McKade and Elliot were perfectly alright with it. They’d been having bullying problems at school anyways and were more than happy to leave the crowded city of detroit

so that summer, with a few suitcases of clothes and essentials each, the four of them just drove from the north all the way down to the dirty south

Logan was the worst car ride dj in the world. He only played nineties hits and older because that was what his military friends and father always listened to

totally a dad that puts his hand behind the seat like 🫴 when they stopped to get the boys snacks

they bought a two bedroom farmhouse with a barn out back (for goodness knows what) and the boys were practically ecstatic that they’d have to share a bedroom

it took a while of sleeping on air mattresses and eating out for them to get the house nice and ready, but by the end of the summer, it was the cutest farmhouse y/n had ever stepped foot into

she and Logan got jobs at the same company that allowed them to work remotely from home, which was a huge, huge privilege

they made several traditions in that house

like pancake Saturdays, where Logan and Y/n would wake up the boys early so they could make a pancake assembly line (even though Elliot had turned thirteen and claimed he was too old for chocolate chip smiley faces)

Logan would always flip the pancakes, and accidentally launch one at Y/n’s face. At least one every Saturday without fail

once the boys go back to school, y/n and Logan find time to go on cute dates and spend alone time with each other

they hang out with hesh a lot, because he lives pretty close (not really, like an hour away but he’s willing to drive to see Logan and his family)

he’s definitely the cool single uncle type

McKade and Elliot get so hype to see their Uncle Hesh

Keegan lives farther but still comes around occasionally

Elliot and McKade love to listen to their war stories

y/n and Logan went on a hike once and discovered a quarry on their land and now when Hesh and Keegan come over they all go to the quarry and jump off of the rocks and have campfires there in the summer

McKade and Elliot have lots of friends at school that have chickens and they convinced Logan and y/n they needed some, too! So now they have little chickens in their barn

y/n didn’t really know what to feed them for the first couple of days so she scrambled them eggs and and all three of the boys were just like 👀 cannibalism

everything was going great until one chilly October day, they got a call from the boys’ new middle school that McKade had gotten sick in class

which was normal for most kids, but not McKade. He hadn’t been sick since he was a baby, so neither him nor Y/n had ever dealt with that before

they picked him up from school that day and Y/n was basically a mess because oh my god her twelve year old son was laying across the backseats of their truck in actual agony saying his stomach felt like it was ripping itself apart

Logan was there to calm her down though, probably holding her hand while he drove because he’s supportive like that :,)

y/n had no clue what she was doing but it was okay because Logan was an amazing caretaker

It seriously made her heart melt the first night McKade was sick, she went into his bedroom and Logan was asleep in his bed with him

it was a little unnerving, too, though, because McKade (being thirteen and officially a teenager) thought he was way too old to sleep with people now and the fact that he felt bad enough to want Logan to stay worried her

they thought it was just a stomach bug until day two, when he was still throwing up like every thirty minutes and was crying from the pain

They took him to the ER while Elliot was at school and found out he had to get his appendix removed

and Y/n didn’t take very well to hearing that

but Logan was always by her side, whispering quiet things and reassuring her that he had his taken out at sixteen and he was still a fully functional human being. After all the surgery wasn’t super invasive and tons of people had it done all the time

the only ones that weren’t on board were McKade and Elliot. McKade was terrified and Elliot hated the thought of surgeons cutting his brother open

but with a lot of support from Logan, all three of them got through it with flying colors. McKade recovered fast and y/n was forever grateful for Logan being what kept her grounded

they were living the dream life, with chickens that they loved to raise, two perfect boys that they spend time with, and the perfect farmlife

until it came crashing down again in the worst way possible

One lazy Saturday afternoon, while the boys were at a birthday party a professional looking military man showed up at their house to talk to Logan

y/n didn’t think much of it until he came back inside from the porch with a pale face and dull eyes

”what’s wrong, Logan?” She questioned, drifting up next to him and placing a hand on his arm. She thought someone he knew might’ve died

but when he just stared at the floor and shook his head, she knew it was something worse

”come on, babe, talk to me,”

he couldn’t even lift his eyes to her as he whispered: “the ghosts are being requested for a war in the Middle East. I have to go back.”

at that moment, y/n’s world seemed to shatter

”when are you leaving?”

”they want us in Santa Monica by tuesday,”

for a while, y/n just hugged him and cried. The thought of the love of her life jumping back into a war zone after the gut wrenching stories he hold her made her feel absolutely hopeless

she didn’t notice, but he was crying, too

and when McKade and Elliot got home that night, they had to tell them, which was the most heartbreaking thing she’d ever witnessed. Elliot, because Logan was the only dad he’d ever known, the one he was raised by, and McKade, because he was finally getting used to having a dad again and now he was going to war

they ended up sleeping on the couch that night. Elliot and McKade were just as wrecked as their mother was and Logan was the only one that didn’t cry himself to sleep that night

Y/n had imagined so many variations of her future with Logan, but none of them ever involved four broken hearts and a call to war

[kuunibal]

I wanted to talk about my darling, if that's alright. I can never get enough of talking about him. I'm actually autistic/adhd and he's been my biggest special interest since we've been dating. My friends and family have all gotten annoyed with the fact he's all I talk about.

He's asleep next to me as I type this. I love hearing him breathing, I always check up on him too. He just moved in less than a week ago. I'm so happy, I'm filled with joy. I feel like my friends and family all judge me for how soon it is. I just got divorced (married wayyy too young) the beginning of October last year, and started dating him the end of October. We've been dating a little less than four months now.

But see: he's a yandere too. He's already planning his proposal to me. And he created a tumblr just to follow my blogs and reblog yanderecore posts he tags me in. He has notifications on and stalks my blogs, and goes through and likes every post I make ♥️ He always tells me that he doesn't need anyone else because I'm all that matters, that he'd do anything for me, and that I give his life meaning and purpose. He's said that I'm his first love and if I ever leave him he'd never move on because he knows for a fact that he'd never love anyone like he does me so what's the point of trying. I have to always stop him from spending all of his paycheck on buying me gifts if I accidentally say I want something where he can overhear me. He will also pick up my jackets in front of me and start smelling them and carrying them around to hug. If we go out in public he always has to be holding my hand. And: he always prefers to leave at least one hickey on me, preferably as visible as possible, so everyone knows I'm taken.

I love all of it. I love that he does that, I love how jealous and possessive he is, I love that when I reblog yanderecore posts for him he kisses me and tells me that he loves it. He loves that I'm also obsessed with him. I told him that since I need to travel for a week coming up I'd bring some of his shirts he's worn and use them like a pillowcase and he blushed. I told him that I'd die without him, I'd just wither away, my purpose is to be his and to be his housewife and dote on him. He loves all of it. Except he refuses to let me take on more than 50% of the housework no matter how much I whine and insist. He also bought me a journal for Christmas with my name and birth flower engraved on it, and I've been using it to practice writing pages of my first name and his last name for when we get married. He finds it so cute and said I should start using it as my signature since technically they won't check if my last name matches on most documents ♥️

We just bought a bunch of prints of photos of us together and kissing and have already hung some of them up. I also got him a picture of me for his wallet he immediately cut it out and stuck in his wallet for when he has to be at work and misses me. We've also discussed what our wedding will be like, we're saving to buy a house together in the future, what we'll name our kids, and what our future matching tattoo will look like ♥️

I've always been kind of an obsessive lover but never like this. And never this reciprocated. I'm over the moon. We're completely soulmates. He's already met my family and they think he's great, he's so kind to everyone and always fussing over me. And I'm the only person he's ever dated to meet his family. They also like me, and appreciate how much I've fixed his depression. According to them before we met he was constantly depressed and grumpy and antisocial. And now he's bubbly and never stops talking about me.

My darling means the entire world to me ♥️ He's snoring so sweetly right now. He keeps putting his arm or leg over mine in his sleep too. I'm madly MADLY in love with him. I need to get up to finish some chores while he rests but it's so hard to rip myself away from his side. He's going to buy my engagement ring soon, and I've been telling him since the end of December that whenever he asks I'll say yes. When we go our I always rub my ring finger and feel like something is missing, like I left something at home. Even though in my past relationship it was terrible and I purposely never wore my wedding ring.

Anyways: thanks for listening. I need to try and pry myself away to feed our furbabies and come back to bed asap. Mutual yandere love is the best thing I've ever experienced and my darling is the best thing that could have possibly happened to me

This was honestly so heartwarming to read, thank you for sharing! I am happy for you and your darling, and I’m glad that you were able to leave your previous unhappy marriage and find someone who brings you so much joy into your life. Congratulations!

[prcdefuldj]

"one good thing about music is when it hits you, you feel no pain." — bob marley.

name: dreya jailee floyd nicknames: drey, dj and baby spice hometown: kansas city, kansas birthday: november 10th, 1997 occupation: music producer/dj company: aew age: twenty-five sexuality: heterosexual relationship status: single faceclaim: zonnique pullins Dreya Jailee Floyd was born on November 10th in Kansas City, Kansas. She is the youngest of four children. Her older siblings are quite older than her, and they left the home by the time she was ten. Dreya felt like an only child in some ways because she didn’t have her older siblings around much. She didn’t have too many friends, so she clung to wrestling, writing and video games and choir. She has always had an interest in music since she was a kid. Dreya didn’t just want to perform music, but she wanted to learn behind the scenes. When she went to college, Dreya began studying psychology at a local university. However, a few months into her major, Dreya switched her major to music production. Her parents weren't too fond of her switching majors. She knew she wanted a career in music. It's something she wasn't going to stop herself from achieving. Around her junior year of college, Dreya started to spin at a local club under the name DJ Drizzy. She’ll spin at different clubs to this very day. Weeks before Dreya graduated college, her grandma passed away. She was very close to her grandmother. The last conversation Dreya and her grandmother had was to tell Dreya to follow her dreams. After she graduated college, she sent the first year and a half working and honing in on her craft. She applied for a position as a music tech for AEW. In October of 2021, she was given the opportunity of a lifetime when she was hired by the company. HEADCANONS: • dreya's relationship with her mother is a bit strained. she has reservations about her daughter choosing a career in music instead of a more practical career. part of dreya wants to cut her mother off for good, but the other part of her is chasing approval from her mother. the approval her older siblings got a long time ago. • she is a tattoo enthusiast. dreya will have the urge to get a new one at random times. she has a constant "itch" for new ink. • dreya guards her heart whenever she meets someone new. she has gotten so used to being alone, sometimes she believes people have an ulterior motive. • dreya’s hobbies include video games, singing, dancing, astrology and cosplay. her favorite video games are the sims, mortal kombat, overwatch and life is strange. • dreya is a coffee lover. she has at least three cups per day (if not more). • dreya wears a “Z” necklace. the necklace stands for “zora” which was her grandma’s name. if it wasn’t for her grandma, she wouldn’t be where she is today.  • a television show character dreya is similar to is peyton sawyer from one tree hill. CONNECTIONS:

all plots are open for my bean. friends, enemies, rivals, etc are open. shipping is chemistry based. friends: enemies: rivals: best friends: WANTED PLOTS roommates: if i have anymore plots ideas, i'll add them here. (x

[ginnyrules27]

I posted 618 times in 2022

That's 127 more posts than 2021!

378 posts created (61%)

240 posts reblogged (39%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@dizzydizney

@candy-pants

@descendantofthesparrow

@a-person-on-the-internet

@pink-flame

I tagged 423 of my posts in 2022

Only 32% of my posts had no tags

#disney's descendants - 179 posts

#disney descendants - 160 posts

#answering ask box - 150 posts

#ask box - 149 posts

#responding to ask box - 148 posts

#ffn - 111 posts

#fanfiction.net - 110 posts

#ginnyrules27 - 110 posts

#ben florian - 80 posts

#mal bertha - 66 posts

Longest Tag: 133 characters

#you live with a guy as your friend or at least acquaintance all your life and you'd pick up on things that scream out at you as wrong

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I just... I have no words at how amazing this is! 

@descendantofthesparrow thank you so much for this amazing Ben! You did such an outstanding job on it! (tries not to go on a three hour rant about how we should have gotten more of Ben’s isle outfit in the movies)

But in all seriousness, check out @descendantofthesparrow​ for all sorts of amazing artwork while I flail over this and lament the lack of Ben things in fandom. 

48 notes - Posted March 25, 2022

#4

The face you make when your son shakes his hair dry at you after you did absolutely nothing during the time he was love spelled for the second time in six months. 

Ben, I wholeheartedly approve :D 

49 notes - Posted May 25, 2022

#3

Okay so disclaimer: I normally don’t go on Twitter, I stay away from the celeb gossip and pretty much the only reason I have it right now is for sports stuff and to stay up to date on the BTTMW2 convention in November. I also know that celebs are humans and they’re going to have differing opinions.

However there’s something about Dove Cameron liking a tweet condensing the Try Guys scandal as ‘imagine your husband cheated and then his friends give interviews about how traumatizing it’s been for them’ that gets my back up.

Ned wasn’t just their friend, he was their best friend going all the way back to their buzzfeed days. Ned was one of Keith’s groomsmen, Eugene babysat his kid even though he was not the most fond of babies…the four of them were brothers in a way.

As well, Eugene, Zach and Keith were friends with Ariel on top of the fact that Ned doing this fucked with the company that they built, that Ned convinced them to build, because he as co-owner of the company had an affair with a subordinate. And by the way they only had three weeks from when they learned the news to when the news officially dropped for the fans. That much stress that fast while grieving the end of a decade long friendship and worrying that your business is going to go under because of this hit to your brand is traumatic. And to make it seem like the men folk are making this about them while the dutiful wife should be the one doing interviews…

I dunno, maybe I’m wrong for this. Like I said, people have differing opinions on the topic and I know my perspective’s clouded since my mother’s first marriage ended because her husband cheated though not with an employee that I’m aware of. But considering Dove’s Breakfast music video had clear social commentary on the state of women’s rights in this country maybe that’s why I’m a little surprised to see her liking a tweet like this?

Then again, I doubt she runs her own socials at this point so there’s that too.

52 notes - Posted October 9, 2022

#2

Today on ‘paused at just the right time’...

Sorry not sorry--no way you can’t tell me that Huma’s not canon! No one looks at each other like that if some dormant feelings weren’t there. 

So yeah, Huma’s canon even if they never had a kiss. But that’s what fanfiction’s for. 

93 notes - Posted March 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Rewatching Julie and the Phantoms and I...I just don’t understand the decision to cancel this show. 

I mean first of all, can we talk about the lack of tired plot points on the show? The siblings get along and don’t act like bitter enemies, the teenager actually respects their parent, the group of guy friends are emotional with each other without doubting their masculinity...hell there’s not the tired old ‘husband hates his in-law’ ‘gag’ (looking at you Simpsons). 

But one I didn’t realize they turned on their head until a re-watch is the ‘school administrator is the enemy’ trope. When Julie’s trying to rejoin her music program, her teacher says her hands are tied (understandable because teachers gotta follow rules too). JatP could have easily made it so that the principal was some mustache twirling, nefarious, ‘ooh I hate kids’ trope we’ve seen a hundred times before. 

But they didn’t. 

When Julie’s teacher tells her again that her hands are tied about getting her into the music program after Julie preforms Bright, the principal responds with ‘but mine aren’t’ (which begs the question why didn’t Julie just ask the principal but show gotta show) and then goes on to say basically ‘don’t do this again but when you win your grammy I want to be thanked’ 

As a 90s kid who actually had some decent teachers, seeing them finally portrayed like humans (even on a ‘kids’ show) is refreshing. 

222 notes - Posted March 16, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[storiesfabled]

Name: Annabelle Leigh Buckley-Moore FaceClaim: Josephine Langford Birthday: October 31 Nicknames: Anna, Belle Parents: Jessica Moore, Evan Buckley, Sam Winchester (stepfather), Eddie Diaz (stepfather) Siblings: Charlotte Buckley-Diaz (half-sister); Christopher Diaz (stepbrother); Luca Winchester (half-brother); Terra Winchester (half-sister) Grandparents: Clarissa Moore; Kyle Moore; Bobby Nash; Athena Grant; Ramon Diaz (step); Helena Diaz (step); John Winchester (step) Aunts: Alyssa Moore; Maddie Buckley Uncles: Dean Winchester; Castiel Cousins: Johanna Winchester; Jee-Yun Buckley-Han

Annabelle was not a planned child. In fact, news of her impending presence couldn't have come at a worse time. Jess and Buck had split up - Jess had gotten back together with Sam, and Buck had finally announced his feelings for Eddie and gotten together with him. A child between Buck and Jess was going to throw a wrench into any plans the two couples may have had for themselves. Still, while both parents weren't sure what their lives would look like with a kid in the mix, they were also both excited to find out - especially Buck.

When Anna was born, her name came about as a joke on Eddie's part. It was no secret to anyone that Eddie did not particularly care for Jess, and while he loved Buck, the idea of having a mini Jess around all the time was as appealing to him as a cursed doll - hence the name. What Eddie hadn't expected was for Buck - and then Jess - to fall in love with the name and decide to use it for their kid.

Growing up with four parents served to be both a blessing and a curse. She had a huge family and she loved it, but she learned from an early age that she couldn't get away with anything because one of her parents would invariably find out about it and then she would be in four times as much trouble. She also learned early on that, surprisingly, it was her stepfathers Sam and Eddie who doled out more punishments, while her actual parents tended to remain seen as the fun parents.

Annabelle was almost twelve when Jess and Sam sat her down - with Buck and Eddie's okay - and told her about what they did in regards to hunting monsters. They had held off on the conversation for as long as possible, but with the way the world was going, they knew she needed to be prepared. Annabelle's first reaction was to laugh in their faces, thinking they were messing with her. It was only when their faces remained stoic that she realized they were serious. That day would change the projectory of her life forever.

For her twelfth birthday, Anna was gifted with a salt gun, holy water, and more containers of salt than she thought possible. Suddenly the family Costco membership made sense. She was also gifted with a copy of the book her grandfather had written (reproduced for each of his grandkids) that explained about the various monsters in the world and how to get rid of them.

Now that she was aware of what her mom and Sam got up to in their free time, Anna was eager to help. Much to her chagrin, Jess and Buck refused to allow her to ditch school to go hunting, especially when she was so young and new to it. When she turned 16, she started going on secret hunts - sometimes with her Uncle Dean, sometimes alone - and only stopped when she was found out after skipping school and her parents being called. Jess threatened to have her fitted with an ankle monitor if she did it again, so she stopped until she turned 18.

Now that she is 18, Anna seems to think she can still do whatever she wants with no consequences. Unfortunately, her parents did not feel the same way and since she was still living at home, she had no choice but to listen. Or at least pretend to listen and keep sneaking around behind their backs.

Anna has no intentions of going to college or looking for a job. She would rather spend her time hunting and plans to continue dividing her time between her parents' houses for as long as they will let her.

[koalala700]

Dear Adin,

I decided that something helpful for myself to help with the healing process is to write you letters you'll never read and I want to send but never will.

It's been about 377 days since the breakup and almost four months since you let me know you were moving forward in life and letting go.

In the weekend that followed, I saw you had moved on with a new girl.

In the weekend that followed, I threw myself back into Tinder hoping it would be a distraction. As I'm sure you can imagine, it was a pretty terrible one. But you know me and the spiraling and how that usually goes.

At this point, I have: changed my own oil, learned how to hold and aim a gun properly, put together furniture unassisted, realized I still love kids and that even the messy/hard parts make me smile, rescued over a dozen cats, drove to Orlando and back alone, kayaked down a river with gators (saw several including a baby), gotten another promotion, learned how to pop the lock in my gas door from the back, have been more observant, learned to care more about my own opinion of myself than others, cried a little less every day, made choices without depending on a second opinion, taken care of myself alone for over a year.

I'm sure that doesn't cover it all but these are the things I could think of at 10:30 on Wednesday night.

I still miss you every day, I still think of you at least once every day, and I know that I'm still in love with you even though it hurts to do so.

I'm finally going back to Clearwater. It's funny and painful. I always thought we'd be doing this together, but I'm happy I have the chance to do so.

I've accepted that kids may not be in my future and it's hard to imagine doing it with anyone else. But I've learned it's okay to let go of dreams we've always wanted, it's okay to keep pushing forward and discover new dreams.

I finally went to a good salon and got my hair cut. I haven't had bangs (curtain bangs anyway) in a long, long time. I don't think my bangs have been short like this since sixth grade.

I had the realization that my sex drive wasn't high because I'm a nympho, it was because of you.

I realized that while I adopted a lot of your hobbies, they're also mine too.

I have kept pictures of us, gifts you've given me and I don't know yet if I'll ever let them go. I still have the flowers you sent me on Valentine's Day. The last ones you'll ever give me. I still have the last anniversary present (at least I think it was an anniversary present) of the stars the night you asked me to be your girlfriend.

You may have always told me it's not healthy to hold on to the past, but these were good memories and I don't think I'll ever be the girl who can let those go.

I've hit the point where I've fully accepted where I failed you too. I've accepted my own regrets, the things I wish I had done better, and all the things I wish I had told you but never did.

I know why I left, I understand that my trust was broken and I was afraid I'd never be able to repair it. And while you felt that kissing another girl, talking to another girl, and as I now know, flirting with other girls at the club, wasn't cheating, or at least, something we could move past, I realized I never would. I may forgive you but I don't know that I'd ever have been able to trust you ever again.

It just hurts so bad to know that you always wanted to have kids with me but didn't have enough faith in me to believe I wouldn't have left you after we had it all. It hurts to be doing all the things I wanted to do with you, without you. But I guess that's where we are now.

It hurts to know that in a little over a month, this would have been 13 years. It hurts that October 21st is just another day in the calendar now. That I will never get to wish you happy birthday again, that I'll never get to be with you to celebrate your triumphs, support you through your bad, and sleep by your side every night, and love you until death separates us and we're reunited in the earth, buried side by side. It hurts that I'll never hear you call me 'bishcake' ever again.

I'm sure I will always love you. I'm sure it will always hurt just a little. I'm not sure if I'll ever see you again but I hope you're happy. I hope you get everything you ever wanted out of life. I may not be there anymore but in another life...

In another life, we're laughing over dinner together.

In another life, we're coming up with a grocery list and doing laundry

In another life, we are up late talking about everything and anything like we used to do

In another life.. ah, well, we made it the distance.

Maybe it was meant to be, maybe it wasn't.

But every memory, the good, the bad, the crazy, will be part of my soul and I'll carry with me for the rest of eternity.

And if I never see you again, I hope, in another life, or the after life, we meet each other again with a smile. At peace with one another.

Be happy, be full of love, and get everything you ever wanted.

And I'll learn to do the same without you.

I love you, bishcake. Until our souls cross again.

Wishing you nothing but the best as I continue to find peace in myself and keep healing. One day at a time.

[motownfiction]

oscula

Kevin remembers his first kiss probably too vividly. He was in the eighth grade at Kim Campbell’s birthday party, the same party where he’d later find out Sadie Doyle had her first kiss with Nick Crosby. A group of kids decided to play Spin the Bottle. Somehow, Kevin got roped into the game, which even then, he thought was strange. His whole presence at Kim Campbell’s party was strange, but he knew right away he got a pity invitation. Their mothers worked together, and Mrs. Campbell was probably (and rightfully) terrified that her daughter was turning into a queen bee who enjoys leaving others in the cold. Kevin remembers feeling just like that … until it was his turn to spin the bottle.

The empty Coke bottle stopped spinning in front of Vicky St. John, Kim’s best friend since they were born, and Kevin’s less-than-secret crush for almost as long. He knows he cheered, he knows she hastily applied Cherry Smash Kissing Potion, and he knows it was over in about a second and half. It was a whole second longer than he’d anticipated, but in the years since, he’s chocked that up to the stickiness of the lip gloss.

But after that night, Kevin was thrilled to have gotten his first kiss out of the way. Even if it wasn’t romantic, at least he wouldn’t have to overthink it ever again. And for a long time, that was true. He kissed lots of people before it made him nervous again. Gina Lumetta, once. Vicky St. John, a few more times in high school, when she was pissed at Nick Crosby. Steph Armstrong, more than a few times in college. Sam Doyle, once, on New Year’s Eve in ‘89, partly as a joke and party because he wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Turns out he���s just not as into Sam as Steph is (or at all). Either way, kissing was never a big deal after that first night and that first kiss. Not until there was Lola.

Lola DeLuca has always been Kevin’s constant. Barry, his best friend at work, says that Lola is his mole. He’s the chemistry teacher and spends the entire month of October with Avogadro on his mind. All metaphors aside, Lola’s always been a thought in Kevin’s mind – a feeling everywhere else. She was in love with him before he knew he was someone worth falling in love with. She was in love with him, and he wasn’t ready for her. But one day, somehow, he always figured he would be. It wasn’t that he was trying to choose other women ahead of Lola. It was that he didn’t want to come to Lola as the wrong man.

They’ve been talking to each other more and more lately. Going out on real dates. Lola says he never came to her as the wrong man – that she’d had the wrong man four months ago, and now, she couldn’t recall his name for the life of her. She expects being pregnant to throw Kevin right off, cast him away, make him run and never look back. But he’s not going to do that. She’s his constant. She’s his constant, and this time, that’s going to be more than just a wish passing through.

Tonight, they’re sitting on the couch at Kevin’s place, mindlessly watching something on the television. Kevin twists a strand of Lola’s hair around his index finger, and before long, they’re leaning in to kiss each other. Kevin’s heart jumps around just like it did when he was in the eighth grade. This is not his first kiss. This isn’t even his first kiss with Lola. But there’s something about the reality of it … the gravity of it … that makes him just as excited as he was then.

By the look on Lola’s face – that untamed, beautiful smile – he knows she feels it, too.

[mariacallous]

According to Russia’s propaganda outlets, one of the goals of Moscow’s invasion of Ukraine is to fight back against the "sexual permissiveness" and “moral decay of the West." Since the war began, Russian politicians and pro-government news net have flooded the airwaves with stories about the “depravity” of the Ukrainian army, repeatedly equated homosexuality with pedophilia, and presented Russian troops as heroes fighting for “traditional values.” But however absurd this rhetoric may be, it’s not new or unique: throughout history, these same ideas have repeatedly arisen in a variety of dictatorships, from Hitler’s Germany and Stalin's Russia to Gambia and Uganda in the 21st century. Meduza explains why authoritarians on both the right and the left can be counted on to persecute LGBT+ people.

Do we really want kids in Russia to have Parent No. 1 and Parent No. 2? Have we lost our minds? Do we really want our kids to have it drilled into their heads that there are more genders than sexes? Do we really want our schools to hammer perversions into their heads that lead to degradation and extinction?

So went one of Vladimir Putin’s numerous digressions during his speech at the signing ceremony for the treaties on Russia annexing four partially-occupied Ukrainian territories last month.

In recent years, the Russian president’s rhetoric surrounding LGBT people has gotten crueler and more intense. In 2014, for example, after signing the law banning “gay propaganda” among minors in Russia, Putin pointed out that “non-traditional relationships” themselves were still legal in Russia, denying accusations from human rights groups that the new law was discriminatory. On the other hand, in the same speech, he went on to name “homosexualism” and “pedophilia” as part of the same list, implying a similarity or connection between them. Even earlier, in 2013, he said that “in Euro-Atlantic countries, moral principles and traditional identity are being denied. [Those countries] are implementing policies that put multi-children families on the same level as same-sex partnership, and faith in God on the same level as faith in Satan.”

In addition to maligning LGBT+ people, Putin has told bogus stories about how, in Western countries, “there’s serious talk of registering parties that aim to promote pedophilia.” The party he was likely referring to was created in the Netherlands in 2006 and only had three members. It disbanded in 2010 after widespread public outrage.

Nonetheless, while Putin used to at least pretend that LGBT+ people have the same rights in Russia as everybody else (apart from the “propaganda” law), he now speaks about them as a force to be fought against. Moreover, in his annexation speech, Putin effectively said that one of the goals of Russia’s Ukraine invasion is to prevent the normalization in Russia of all sexualities not sanctioned by the state.

Meanwhile, for Putin and his propagandists, the idea that there are more than two genders has gone from a “perversion” to an “existential threat to the country and its people.” In Russian state discourse, homosexuality has rapidly became as inherent a characteristic of Russia’s enemies as their “commitment to Nazi or fascist ideas." On October 1, for example, pro-Kremlin film actor and Russian State Duma deputy Dmitry Pevtsov claimed Russian troops are fighting for “families to consist of a mom, a dad, and children — not some guy, some other guy, and some other who-knows-what.” And on a Russian talk show in May, he said that “militant faggots have become the main defenders of Ukrainian values.”

The Russian authorities’ rhetoric surrounding gender and sexuality bears a remarkable resemblance to that of numerous other totalitarian, authoritarian, and dictatorial regimes. To gain insight into why this form of intolerance consistently plays an integral role in how dictators maintain power, Meduza turned to history.

The Nazis simultaneously despised and feared LGBT people

The idea of a government-recognized union between one man and one woman as the only permissible kind of romantic relationship is one of the fundamental principles of most fascist regimes. What's more, both members of the relationship must understand their gender in a way that “matches” their sex characteristics; most fascist governments have considered cross-dressing and being transgender just as “deviant” as sex between two men, for example. It’s no accident that in Vichy France, the state motto was changed from Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité (Freedom, Equality, Brotherhood) to Travail, Famille, Patrie (Work, Family, Homeland).

In the Third Reich, LGBT+ people faced mass persecution and were declared a threat to the welfare of the state and of the people. In the minds of Nazi propagandists, gay people were the antithesis of everything Aryan patriots were supposed to embody: asceticism, masculinity, and a willingness to forego pleasure and entertainment to devote oneself to the homeland and the Führer.

Sexual “perversion” in Hitler’s Germany was seen as a remnant of the decadence and hedonism of the Weimar Republic. The Nazis sought to cut all ties with their predecessor state and tightened legislation criminalizing sexual relations between men. Beginning in 1933, when the National Socialist Party came to power and Hitler’s dictatorship was established, prosecution for homosexuality no longer required even physical evidence — it was enough to bring a witness statement from a “law-abiding citizen” who claimed to have seen a suspect look too intensely at another man.

Like in many dictatorships, the image of LGBT+ people that the Nazis pushed was based on two contradictory premises. The first was that LGBT+ people were weak, pathetic, sick people who didn’t deserve to be a part of society. The second was that homosexuality was passed down like a deadly virus and could destroy German society from within if the proper measures weren’t taken to defeat it.

Thus, on one hand, LGBT people were cast as subhumans who deserved contempt, while on the other hand, they were accused of being some of the most dangerous and insidious enemies of the state. The propaganda failed to explain how a group so weak could simultaneously be so powerful.

“In nazi propaganda, homosexuals were generally portrayed as soft, cowardly, cringing, and untrustworthy creatures,” Dutch historian Harry Oosterhuis has written. “[But] in Hitler's and Himmler's view they nonetheless appeared to possess an imperious character and to have at their disposal special intuitions and aptitudes which were withheld from 'normal' men. They were capable of strongly organizing in secret and thereupon making a grab for power.”

In the 12 years the Third Reich existed, according to historians’ estimates, about 100,000 men were arrested for allegedly engaging in “unnatural sexual acts.” Out of the 53,400 men convicted, between 5,000 and 15,000 were sent to concentration camps. The rest were given prison sentences or forced to undergo “treatment.” Persecution against LGBT+ people also got worse as time went on: from January 1933 to June 1935, about 4,000 men were charged for “unnatural sexual acts,” while from June 1935 to June 1938, the number rose to at least 40,000.

Communist regimes were no friendlier

In 1934, an openly gay Scottish journalist and communist named Harry Whyte wrote an open letter to Joseph Stalin. He wanted to explain to the Soviet leader why, in his view, “a homosexual [can be] considered someone worthy of membership in the Communist Party.” At the time, Whyte had been living in the USSR for several years, working as a writer for the English-language Soviet propaganda outlet the Moscow Daily News. Quoting letters written by Marx and Engels, as well as Stalin's own speeches, Whyte criticized the way gay men were treated under capitalism and fascism. He said that even when he had visited Soviet psychiatrists and asked them to “cure” him, they had admitted this might be impossible. He went on to liken the fight for gay rights to the struggle for women's rights.

Whyte expected Stalin to be receptive to his arguments — and to take a kinder view of gay men than that of the British authorities. Instead, the dictator’s response was brief and hostile: “An idiot and a degenerate.”

Shortly after, Harry Whyte left the Soviet Union and was kicked out of the Communist party — but not before Maxim Gorky published a response to his letter in the Soviet newspaper Pravda. “In a country where the proletariat manages courageously and successfully,” Gorky wrote, “homosexuality, which corrupts young people, is recognized as socially criminal and is punished.”

Despite universal equality officially serving as one of the principal ideals of communist and socialist regimes, LGBT people in the Soviet Union found themselves in similar circumstances to those of queer people in fascist dictatorships. The decade that followed the relatively free 1920s was marked by the passage of legislation even more reactionary and repressive than that of the Russian Empire. Like the Nazis, Soviet leaders viewed LGBT+ people with both contempt and fear. In official discourse, gay people were depicted as untrustworthy figures predisposed to deception and betrayal.

The year before Whyte’s letter, the USSR’s Central Executive Committee criminalized “sodomy," making voluntary sex between two men punishable by up to five years in prison.

However, unlike in fascist regimes, where persecution against gay and trans people took place primarily among the general population, "sodomy" allegations in the Soviet Union were frequently used as a pretext for political purges. Facing a “sodomy” charge under Stalin's government was tantamount to being accused of treason.

Over the next 60 years, about 60,000 people were convicted of “sodomy.” Having these charges on one’s record often made it impossible to find work or enroll in university.

Fidel Castro’s Cuba was another communist state in which LGBT+ people faced brutal repressions. For decades after Castro's rise to power in 1959, LGBT+ people were sent to labor camps and forced to publicly renounce their “criminal predilections.” Police arrested men whose behavior they deemed “feminine” or who dressed “like a hippy.” To extract confessions from gay men, investigators would wrap them in barbed wire or bury them up to their neck and deprive them of food and water.

Castro normalized and encouraged homophobia among the public as well. Like current Chechen leader Ramzan Kadyrov, the Cuban dictator held that “there are no homosexuals in this country.”

The masculinity cult

Nina Khrushcheva, a professor of international affairs at The New School and the granddaughter of Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev, has attributed authoritarian leaders’ consistent persecution of LGBT+ people to their constant need to emphasize their own strength. The image of a man as the embodiment of masculinity, she writes, is connected in these leaders’ minds with the “natural order of things,” the violation of which poses an immediate threat to their continued power. For dictators and their devotees, queer people provoke not just disgust and confusion but also fear, because they represent an “alternative” order.

Under totalitarianism, homophobic discourse is usually predicated on the idea that if same-sex relationships or non-binary gender identities are normalized, there will be no place for “normal” people in the “new” world. Despite the fact that it’s LGBT+ people who have consistently faced persecution under fascist and communist regimes, dictators promote the idea that queer people are the ones who pose a danger to others. As Khrushcheva wrote in a 2021 column:

These leaders' reliance on “hegemonic masculinity” – the idea that men should be strong, tough, and dominant – to bolster their position should not be surprising. Authoritarian states are fundamentally weak, and dictators are fundamentally insecure. So, they constantly attempt to project strength.

But in today's fast-changing world, ordinary people are feeling insecure, too – especially those who think their traditionally “dominant” positions are being eroded. That makes them eager to embrace strongmen who promise a return to the order and predictability of a more socially rigid past. In other words, people are afraid of change, and think they need macho leaders and patriarchal rules to protect them.

The first order of business for authoritarian leaders seeking to scapegoat queer people is to convince the population that minority sexualities are dangerous. To that end, they usually claim that there’s a correlation between the sexuality or gender identity they disapprove of and some imagined negative trait. For example, authorities might claim that LGBT+ people are incapable of engaging in patriotism or living in society without imposing their “deviant” predilections on “normal” people.

To stir up homophobic sentiment among the public, propagandists try to convince the heterosexual and cisgender majority that LGBT+ people’s worldviews and psyches make them something akin to invaders from another planet. This is because it’s much easier for people to hate “aliens” than to hate people who have everything in common with the majority except their sexuality.

Leaders in authoritarian and totalitarian regimes frequently claim that LGBT+ people are a threat to demography, depicting homosexuality or nonbinary gender identities as a virus that can be passed from person to person. State propaganda traditionally seeks to scare people by asserting that the “spread” of homosexuality will lead to a decline in birthrates — and ultimately to extinction. But this is a fantasy: nothing remotely close to this has been observed in any democratic country where same-sex relationships are legal and socially acceptable.

One of the world’s most well-known homophobic leaders was Robert Mugabe, Zimbabwe’s prime minister from 1987 to 2017. When trying to justify his repressive policies against LGBT+ people, Mugabe often presented the same arguments Vladimir Putin has begun using in recent years: that gay people are “harmful” and “unnatural,” and that their supporters are either “idiots” or “Satanists.”

In the years since Mugabe’s rule came to an end, Zimbabwe has seen the opening of its first health clinics for gay and bisexual men — a step lauded by the local LGBT+ community as a “historic victory.” In other African dictatorships such as Uganda, however, state-sanctioned homophobia continues to thrive.

After inculcating homophobia among the public, dictators themselves usually shape their own public image around stereotypes of masculinity, contrasting themselves with people who don’t fit into their “traditional” conceptions of manhood. And because citizens’ primary responsibility in authoritarian regimes is to buttress the state, LGBT+ people are stigmatized and demonized for not fitting into the model of the “classic” family and for showing their individuality — something authoritarian governments strive to suppress. 

[unforth]

…okay I don’t think I’m going to manage another prompt fill today, my brain just won’t boot, but I guess that means this is as a good a time as any to explain what the fuck is going on. I’ve already talked about it on like three of my Discord servers but I know I have a lot of mutuals on here who aren’t in any of those servers so.

I’ve been having issues with my back on and off since my mid 20s. I didn’t have insurance then so I didn’t do anything about it, and when I did get insurance at 31 it wasn’t a priority. However, after I had a really bad flare up while I was pregnant with our second kid, it became a higher priority. When I had another flare up and wasn’t pregnant, so I could actually get testing, I went to an ortho urgent care. They did an x ray, said nothing was wrong, and told me I should get painkillers. So I went to my PCP, said I thought I needed an MRI, and they said that would never get approved by insurance and they sent me to PT. That was about 3.5 years ago. I did the PT but since my flare ups never lasted more than 6 weeks, and the PT was a six week course, obviously I was “cured” by the PT, so every time I had a flare up any attempt at care was met with, “go to PT.” And considering that first round of PT 1. Didn’t help and 2. Cost me $750 out of pocket cause insurance didn’t cover it…yeah I didn’t do that. My flare ups got more and more frequent, from once every few years in my 20s, to once every year, to more than once a year. This year, one last winter never fully faded.

By summer I had steady low level pain and stiffness but I could manage through it so I just ignored it. That started intensifying in October, and I thought it was a full new flare by November, except the pain was different than past flares - more intense, more constant, much harder to ignore and work through. It also had a strong radiating sciatic component that was fucking ow. And it got steadily worse. I spoke to my PCP about a month in; she offered PT and I said no. She got me naproxon for pain and baclifen as a muscle relaxer. It didn’t help. She told me if it didn’t fade in six weeks I should call again. Which I did, a few days before Christmas, when it was clear that far from fading, it was getting steadily worse. I couldn’t stand long enough to do the dishes without incapacitating pain; Christmas night I drove my mom home and couldn’t make my foot depress enough to press the brake. That was. Well it’s a good thing moms house is only a few minutes away. I haven’t driven since then cause I have only gotten worse. She referred me to a specialist I chose because of their good reputations and my wife’s knowledge of them,

I talked to the specialist about everything last Thursday, and finally, after four years of me telling any doctor I could that I thought I needed an MRI, I had my first ever MRI on Monday. The specialist also gave me much better meds, which at least have meant I slept; by the night before my appointment I was in so much pain that sleep was literally impossible; I spent the night curled in a ball on the couch playing Minecraft and wishing any position would hurt less cause I was so tired. (I’d hardly slept three other nights that week for similar reasons).

Anyway, yesterday I had my follow up with the specialist to discuss the MRI results and, uh. I guess my first appointment I didn’t do a great job of explaining just how much pain I was in, because she was very much talking about PT and related treatment. After looking at the MRI she said, I’m going to see if the surgeon is available to speak to you literally right now (unfortunately, he wasn’t). She still hedged bets and said the surgeon might not recommend surgery, but after she said that she spent the entire rest of the appointment discussing surgery so. She clearly thinks I need surgery. I have a herniated bulging disc between my L4 and L5 vertebrae which has caused spinal stenosis, which is leading to the pain, tingling, growing weakness, etc. in laymens terms, the disc is all fucked up and it’s pressing on my spinal cord. It’s basically just a matter of time now before I start to risk permanent nerve damage (I’m not there yet but could easily get there). I wasn’t even able to get an appointment with the surgeon yet, because his regular calendar is full for weeks out, and they need to talk to his secretary to see if he can squeeze me in much sooner, but she won’t be back in the office until Monday. In the meantime, she gave me a list of conditions that, should I meet any of them, I should immediately go to the ER, tell them what’s going on, and the surgeon on call would do the surgery instead (the spine folks I saw are part of the hospital, and the four surgeons they have are the four on call surgeons at the ER, and they’re all good, so this isn’t going to get me worse care). She also made it sound like, given staff shortages caused by Covid and scheduling issues also caused by Covid, there was a pretty high chance I’d have to use the ER option.

All of which is to say, I need major surgery on my back and I’ve been in continual pain for about 2 months.

I’m currently on ludicrous amounts of medication, and yesterday she added prednisone to the mix, and that’s what’s just. Completely knocking me out. I was doing okay before that but today I really am just reverting to my natural boneless blob state on the couch…and I’m still in pain and can hardly stand.

I have no idea when my surgery will be, since I could theoretically meet one of the “go right now” criteria at any time. We’ve made what arrangements we can, and will be making more as we’re able, but…yeah. It’s a lot. I’m actually relieved about the surgery itself, since I’ve been dealing with this for so long, and I’ve been so sure I had a herniated disc and that I’d need surgery to fix it, and sure enough I was right, and if they’d listened to me sooner, I might not be in this mess now, but oh well. The surgery has a very high success rate and if I do PT and stuff after odds are I’ll be pain free and back to 100% once I’m through the recovery, so this isn’t a bad thing, I mostly just wish I could fucking get it over with again.

I am. So tired.

(I also can’t sit at my computer literally at all anymore; I’m doing everything from my iPad rn, which is why everything I write is full of typos and weird auto corrects, and I’m sorry.)

(This is also why I’m behind in literally everything I’ve said I’ll do. I’m sorry. I’m trying.)

[americancowgirl19]

Leave a Message

Summary: No matter how many times they call, all they get is the answering machine.

Warnings: angst, cursing, fluff, dates might not be correct (deal with it)

Reader: Sister Winchester Reader

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Sister!reader, Sam Winchester x Sister!reader, John Winchester x Daughter!reader, slight Bobby Singer x Daughter!reader

Word Count: 3,481

A/n: Y/n/n = Your nickname Y/d/n = Your daughters name

Masterlist

December 19th, 1996 - 9:17 am

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“Hey, Y/n/n, it’s Dean. Where are you? Dad won’t tell Sammy and I anything. You’ve been gone for two days. Please, just tell me you’re safe. Call me back,”

March 5th, 1997 - 1:32 pm

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“It’s Sam... You’ve been gone a long time... Dad won’t talk about you anymore, he gets mad when we bring you up. He won’t let us look for you but don’t worry, Dean still does and I help him where I can. I don’t know where you are but we’ll find you. We’ll bring you back. Love you,”

October 31st, 1997 - 8:49 pm

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“...It’s Halloween... Remember when you would make Sammy dress up in some stupid costume and take him out trick or treating for a little bit? Dad would always get mad but you had this way of just lightening him up. I swear we would gain so much weight eating Sammy’s candy when he went to bed *small chuckle*… You’ve been gone for almost a year and I’m no closer to finding you than when I started... I’m not gonna give up though. I know you’re out there even if Dad won’t say anything. I just hope that wherever you are... you’re safe. Please, call back,”

December 25th, 1997 - 10:23 pm

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“Merry Christmas, Y/n. I miss you... a lot. Dean says you’ll come back but I don’t know if I believe him anymore. We should have found you by now right? Dad should be helping us *aggravated sigh*… He’s been drinking a lot lately... I just want you to come back. Nothing’s been the same since you left. I don’t know where you are but I hope Dean finds you. We need you here. We Love you,”

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“Merry Christmas, Y/n/n... Sammy demanded that I call you and tell you that... He thinks you’ll come back if we talk to you or something like that... I don’t know... I’m starting to think you’re not actually missing... I think you and dad fought and you left us. I don’t think you want to be found... *sigh*… I thought you were happy here, with us. I don’t know what dad said to make you leave but please just... come back... Sammy needs you. I... *heavy sigh*… Come back,”

February 10th, 1998 - 2:30 pm

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“Hey, Y/n. Nothing has really changed in the last couple of months. Dad’s wanting to take me on more hunts but Dean’s holding him off. I know I’m ready to take on more of the big stuff. I just have to prove to Dean that I’m ready, that I can handle myself. You should come back and help me convince Dean I’m not a little kid anymore...You should come back... Love you”

June 1st, 1998 - 11:41 pm

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“Sammy got hurt today... We were hunting and... I don’t even know what happened. One second he was behind me and then we were separated and then he was hurt. Dad got pissed. Dad told me Sammy wouldn’t have gotten hurt if you were looking after him... I know he’s right... You were always better at looking after him than I was... Hell, you’re better at looking after me than I am... I don’t know how much longer we can keep going on without you. We’re falling apart here. Dad’s either hunting or emptying a liquor store. I’m trying to look after him and Sammy but... I can’t do this alone. I don’t know why you left or if you’re even- fuck... if you’re even getting these messages...”

October 31st, 1998 - 9:02 pm

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“Happy Halloween... Dean said I shouldn’t call... That you wouldn’t answer. That you’re probably not even listening to the messages... That might be true but still... You’re my sister and I miss you.”

December 25th, 1998 - 12:13 pm

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“Merry Christmas from Dean and I...”

December 17th, 1999 - 4:55 am

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“It’s been three years, Y/n... God, it’s been three years... I miss you like hell...Damn, I just... I just miss you”

December 17th, 2000 - 7:00 am

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“Hey, it’s Dean. Just checking in... Everything’s fine on our end. Dad and Sammy are both doing good. It’s been four years and... I guess we’re just now figuring out how to work without you *small laugh, sniffle*… Sammy’s doing good in school. I can finally drink *laugh* legally that is. I know you’re getting these messages cause Sammy and I have left a shit ton and the box isn’t full yet. That means that you’re deleting them. I guess on the bright side that means you’re alive... I don’t know whether to be happy or pissed... I guess a little bit of both... I miss you. Sammy misses you. Hell, even dad misses you even if he doesn’t say anything. I hope you’re listening to these and not just deleting them... I guess it makes me feel better to think you actually listen... Guess it means a small part of you still cares enough to at least listen to me ramble on... *sigh*… I want you to know... You can come back. It doesn’t matter that you’ve been gone, you can still come back. I want you to come back. Hell, I’d be happy for a damn phone call or even a fucking text! Something!... Just give me something...”

December 17th, 2001 - 6:26 am

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“Hey, it’s Dean. *Large sigh* I’m just... Just checking in... God, I wish you were here... More than anything... God, I need you. Text me where you are and I promise I will drop everything to come pick you up. Hell, I won’t even ask a damn question. Sammy and Dad have been going at it... It seems like it never ends. I can feel him pulling away. I know Sammy wants to leave and if Dad doesn’t lay off we’re gonna lose him just like... Just like we lost you... I can’t lose him.. I lost... I-I lost you an-and now *throat clearing*… If you come back then you can fix everything like you always could. You know, like, you could just... you can fix us... You can calm Sam down and make him stay... You can get dad to relax... I can’t keep this family together, they’re slipping through my fingers. Please, come back...”

July 8th, 2002 - 4:09 pm

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“...Sammy’s gone... *slow sigh*… *sniffle*… I-... *quiet sob*…”

September 28th, 2006 - 6:37 pm

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“Hello, this is Stacey with the - hospital. I’m calling for a Y/n Winchester. I have news about the passing of a John Winchester...”

May 1st, 2008 - 11:59 pm

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“Uh... Hey, it’s uh... It’s Sammy - err - Sam. *Throat clearing* It’s been a long time since I called... Dean didn’t want me calling and I didn’t think I would have too but I can’t put this off anymore... Dean made a deal with a demon... His contract is up in a couple of weeks. I’m doing everything I can to get him out but... *shaky sigh*… I don’t know if... It would be nice if... If we could just see you. Leave the past behind us, ya know?... I doubt you’ll respond but I just... I had to let you know...”

Sam sigh’s hanging up the phone. It fidgets with the device in his hand, hunched over his knees. He could feel his heart dropping in disappointment. Even though he knew you wouldn’t answer there was still a small part that just... hoped.

He turns his head when he sees something moving in the corner of his eye. Dean leans against the doorway with his arms crossed. Sam looks into his eyes.

Neither of them have to say anything. They just understand.

It killed Dean that no matter what they said to you over the phone, you never called back. You never sent a text. You sure as hell never showed up. You simply dropped off the face of the Earth 10 years ago. No matter how hard they looked, they couldn’t find a trace of you.

You were always the best. You were the best hunter, being the eldest of the three. You were the best ‘parent’, being the unofficial mother figure. You somehow managed being both mother and sister. It’s what made your disappearance so hard. The boys weren’t just losing a sister.

Despite the fact that they couldn’t track you, you could track them. In fact, you had been doing your best to keep your eye on them. You’re father had demanded that you leave, never come back, and never contact them. You tried your best but you loved your brothers, you had to make sure they were ok.

However, they’re Winchesters. Keeping tabs on them wasn’t always easy. There would be months where they would be the ones that fell off the face of the Earth before suddenly reappearing somewhere. 

You listened to every single voice mail they left. You would cry your eyes out every time. You couldn’t put into words the pain you felt when you heard their voices begging you to come back. You always looked forward to their calls but it never failed to send you into an anxious depressive mess for weeks, sometimes longer, afterward.

It didn’t matter though, you had to keep moving. You had to keep living. It’s not just you who you have to worry about. 

In a couple of months your daughter would be turning 10. Y/d/n Winchester. The father disappeared a couple hours after conception. You had tried to track him down but it wasn’t your main priority. 

Telling your father was extremely hard but him forcing you to leave was the hardest. He wouldn’t let you say goodbye to your brothers. He just told you to pack your bag and get in the Impala while the boys were asleep. He bought you a bus ticket to the furthest place that the bus went too and told you to stay away from the life.

He knew if you talked to your brothers you would be pulled back in. If you were pulled back in, your daughter would be caught in the supernatural mess. John knew a war would be coming and a little baby shouldn’t be in the middle.

As much as you love your brothers, your priority is your daughter. You loved her from the moment you found out she was in your stomach. You had to protect her, no matter what. It didn’t matter what happened to you, your daughter was going to live a happy life.

You always dreamed of a day where you could introduce your daughter to her grandpa and uncles. You dreamed of different scenarios. You prayed they would come true.

When you learned of your father’s death you wanted to cave that instant. You wanted to pack your things, pick your daughter up from school, and go to Bobby’s. You knew the boys would be there. They could cover their tracks but sometimes they were just down right predictable. 

But then you remembered how he died. The nurses had explained the weird things going on and you got the security footage. You watched Dean teeter between the living and the dead before miraculously recovering. Not long later, your father dies. You were able to put two and two together.

Watching the footage would be the first time you saw Sam and Dean since you were a teenager. You didn’t think it would be possible for them to be so tall. The longing for your brothers amplified but they were in deep shit with demons. That isn’t the life you could bring to your doorstep. That isn’t the danger you could bring to your daughter.

However, when you got Sam’s call your world stopped. Hearing that Dean would be dead in a few weeks, dragged to hell by those damn hounds, made you fall to your knees. Hearing about your father’s death, hell seeing it on camera, was one thing. But to lose your brother is something you never wanted to go through.

Sure, you haven’t talked to him but you knew he was alive. You knew he was still kicking ass and taking names. But now you knew he was going to die and there wasn’t a damn thing you could to about it.

But you could do one thing.

“Where are we mom?” Your daughter asks in the back seat as you pull up to a motel. You don’t answer her. Your eyes are glued on the sleek, black Impala. Suddenly you’re 19 again being dropped off at the bus station by your dad who’s telling you to never come back again. “Mom?” You shake the thoughts out of your head. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” You whisper.

You were not fine. Your anxiety is so high that someone would need an oxygen take to climb to the top. Your nerves are shaking your hands. You couldn’t sit still. You felt as if you were on the verge of a panic attack. You managed to keep yourself together not wanting to have such an attack in front of your daughter.

“Sam,” You whisper. You’re youngest brother walks to the Impala, not sparing your car a glance. You watch him open the truck and rummage through it.

“That’s Uncle Sam?” Your daughter asks. Your daughter knew almost everything about your family. She had an idea about the supernatural but not a lot.

“Yeah,” You whisper.

“When was the last time you talked to him?” 

“Too long,” You respond. Sam closes the trunk and begins to walk away. “Stay here,” You say sternly. “I’ll come back for you,”

“Ok,” Your daughter barely answers before you’re out the car following your brother. You were so nervous about the fact that you were about to approach your brother for the first time in a decade that you had forgot one thing. He’s a Winchester.

Sam rounded the corner and you quickly followed. What you weren’t expecting was for him to grab you and slam you against the wall with his forearm digging into your throat.

“Who are you?” He snapped.

“Damn, Sammy,” You choked. Sam frowns his eyebrows and you give him the best Winchester smirk you could muster. “What? Don’t recognize your own sister?” You joke nervously. Sam frowns his eyebrows even more as he takes in your features. “You were the one who called me...” Sam eases back a bit but isn’t completely sure if he trusts you. “Unless you plan on cutting me with some silver or splashing me with some holy water, mind stepping back?” You grab your brothers arm and pull it to the side allowing you to slip away from the wall.

“Y/n?” Sam whispers.

“The one and only,” You wink at him.

“You’re actually here?” Sam asks. You nod.

“I heard that Dean’s in a tough spot,” Sam ignores your comment. “Thought I’d come see you assholes,” The edge of Sam’s lip raises a bit.

“Mom?” Your head snaps to your daughter. Sam slowly follows your gaze.

“I told you to stay in the car,” You growled. 

“I wanted to meet Uncle Sam,” She says walking up cautiously. You sighed and motioned for her to come.

“Uncle Sam?” Sam whispers frowning his eyebrows.

“Sammy, this is Y/d/n,” You introduce glancing at your brother. “My ten year old daughter,” Sam meets your gaze and you can practically see the wheels turning in his head.

“Ten?” 

You slowly nod your head.

“Well, technically not yet but I will be,” She says running a hand through her hair. “It’s nice to meet you,” Y/d/n says holding out her hand. Sam looks down at her and instantly begins to notice the resemblance. He slowly begins to smile and shakes her hand.

“I’m going to assume Dean is with you,” Sam looks back to you.

“And Bobby,” You smile at the mention of his name. “Come on, they’d love to see you,” 

“I’m not sure if love is the right word but they sure as hell will be shocked,” You say following after him. Sam grins a bit but doesn’t comment. “Y/d/n, I want you to stay behind me or by Sam, alright? I don’t know how Uncle Dean and Grandpa Bobby are going to react but don’t be scared. If it gets too much, step outside, alright?”

“Ok,” Y/d/n nods. You smile kissing the top of her head. Sam glances back at you and his niece. A fond smile coming to his lips.

“We’re in here,” Sam mutters opening the door. Dean doesn’t even glance up but Bobby does. The instant Bobby sees you he drops the beer he was holding.

“What the hell, Bobby?” Dean snips when some of it splashes on him.

“Use your eyes and look, boy,” Bobby snapped back. Dean looks at Bobby and then to you. You notice Dean pale.

“Hi, boys,” You whisper.

“What’re you doing here?” Dean asks, after a long silence.

“I came to see you Dean,” You tell him. Dean scoffs.

“What do you want?” He rephrases his words.

“Nothing,” You shake your head. “Sam called-”

“We both called,” Dean snapped. “Hundred of times we called,” You press your lips together. “Did you even listen to them?” He asks standing up.

“Every one of them,” You whisper.

“And you never thought to call back?” He growls stepping closer to you. “What about the time Sammy begged you to come back? What about when I begged? When I told you we needed you? Where the hell have you been?”

“Taking care of me,” Y/d/n speaks up. Dean’s head snaps over to her. You look at her as well. She looks nervous but you smile proudly as she puts on a brave face and walks up to Dean. She looked scared but she didn’t waver as she stopped in front of your angry brother. “I’m Y/d/n... and I’m ten... almost,” 

Dean stares at her, his mind processing everything. He slowly looks from her, to you, back to her. She shifts a bit but continues to look strong.

“It’s my fault she had to leave,” She continues.

“Baby-” You try to interrupt but she wont let you.

“I don’t know the whole story but I know she misses you and Uncle Sammy and Grandpa John and Grandpa Bobby a lot,” You glance at Bobby. The old geezer has tears in his eyes as she says ‘Grandpa Bobby’. “She told me all about the pranks you would pull together and how you would all look after each other. She would tell me stories every night. She wanted to go back to you but she wouldn’t because of me...” She whispers.

“Y/d/n, we talked about this,” You say, slowly turning your daughter to face you. “None of this is your fault, ok? I love you and I don’t blame you a bit because it’s not your fault. Yes, I missed my brothers and your grandpas but I love you so much that I would stay away. There’s so much you don’t know still and I’ll tell you when you get a little older but-”

“It was safer for you two to stay away,” Dean whispers. You glance at your brother. He’s staring at you. “She just wanted to protect you, she did what she had to do. She was always good at doing the right thing,” You smile a bit.

“There’s a few things I could have done differently,” You shrugged.

“A text would have been nice,” Sam muttered and you smiles a bit.

“How about letters?” You ask. Y/d/n pulls a large stack of letters out of her bag. “They’re addressed to all of you,” You say tearing up. “There’s some for dad too but...” You sniffle a bit.

“You’re here,” Dean whispers, disbelief clouding his eyes. You glance at him. For a moment you’re looking at teenage Dean.

“And I’m safe,” You smile a bit. Dean’s smile widens just a bit. “I just have to figure out a way to keep you safe... Can’t leave you boys alone for a second,” You tease tearfully. Dean smiles and pulls you into a tight hug. Sam comes up to you as well and you wrap your arms around your little, yet taller, brothers. “I love you both so much,” You whisper.

@akshi8278​

[1980s-robin]

Pinkie Promise

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Reader and Steve are inseparable, even through dangerous times. But despite nearly dying, there’s just three unspoken little words that burden their minds. 

Word Count: 8.5k

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Stab wounds, mentions of blood, cussing, basically just canon-typical stuff, pretty sure I clarified the reader as a girl at least once 

Notes: So, I’ve been rewatching Stranger Things because… ya know… October. And I’m in my Steve feelings and decided ‘hey! let’s write a giant fanfic about him’ so here it is. And kids? It’s a big one. Enjoy! I’ve been working on it for weeks.

It was meant to be a calm summer, perhaps your last ever calm summer - the plan after graduation having been to spend a year working to pay for your college tuition, or at least as much of it as you possibly could. It was a good plan, but of course, you didn’t factor in a Russian conspiracy theory underneath the mall.

You waved a goodbye to your supervisor at The Gap, watching her finish locking up from behind you as you pretended you were walking to the exit of the mall like you had done every other day. “If you need to get back in, you have your key right?” She questioned, you nodding as you pulled it out of your ‘hiding place’ - which happened to just be your bra. 

Once you had seen her take her leave, you quickly turned back around and knocked four times on the locked entrance of the Scoops Ahoy, being greeted by the face of your new friend Robin.

“Hey! Is everyone gone?” She questioned, peeking her head out as she opened up the store enough to let you in but not make too much noise - just in case there was still someone out there. 

“I think so, my store is usually the last to finish closing.” You responded as you looked around the inside of the store and followed Robin back into the break room, pulling a chair over to the table. Typically, when you came here during your lunch break, you would take a seat across from Steve but the inclusion of Dustin put you directly in the middle of the table.

“Well, Y/N, you joined a little late.” You heard from beside you, turning your head to watch Dustin sitting dramatically, his finger pointing accusingly at you.

“The hell is he on about?” You questioned as you glanced over at Steve, who turned to look at you and coughed awkwardly. 

“Robin already figured out what the code said but uh…. I don’t really believe it’s right.” He said with an almost disappointed look on his face as Robin and Dustin moved to the exit so everyone could leave. The code was figured out as far as they were concerned.

You glanced at the board and read what it said, your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as you read the word but you shrugged and turned to face Steve. “If it is some sort of Russian code, I don’t see why they would say whatever it is they wanted directly.” You said as you moved over to the counter  climbing on top of it with the help of Steve.

As you slid onto the floor, your feet meeting the ground as gently as possible as to not hurt yourself, you watched Dustin nod in agreement with your statement. “She’s right, a top-secret Russian code wouldn’t be that obvious - it’s obviously coded.” He said.

“And I know my translation was right.” Robin added on, your head turning back to look at Steve for just a moment before you turned ahead again. 

As you listened absentmindedly to their conversation you sighed, almost relieved that you most likely didn’t have to deal with this anymore. “Well, whatever it is thankfully it’s far away from here.” 

Almost like a curse, the minute you turned back around Steve was kneeling in front of the mini-carousel ride and demanding a quarter. You had no idea why, you were just assuming he wanted to get on it or something - odd since he wasn’t five but… you weren’t one to judge him. 

As he finally got his quarter you watched with confusion written all over your face before you heard it, the song that you’d been hearing for the past few weeks but… then you realized why he was playing it. It seemed Dustin had the same thought as he pulled the recorder out, playing it for you all to hear the same song playing in both places.

You felt chills run down your spine, but as Robin reasoned that maybe they had the same type of horse in Russia you agreed - maybe because you wanted to believe it. 

But, Steve pointed out the name of the horse. Indiana Flyer. Why would they have an Indiana Flyer in Russia? The recording must’ve been coming from within the mall, and the thought of that horrified you. 

As you all walked out of the mall, you wanted to get away as quickly as possible, you followed Steve to his car since you lived close together - he typically drove you home. 

“Y/N?” You heard from beside you once you’d gotten in the passenger seat, everything seeming to go by in a blur since you hadn’t even noticed that he’d left the parking lot. “Are you okay?” Steve asked, watching as you finally turned to look at him.

“You want to go after the Russians, don’t you?” You asked, your head seemingly spinning from all the information that was being presented to you in that moment - it was a lot for you to process. 

“Well yeah, we can’t tell the police about it, they’ll think we’re pulling some kind of prank.” replied, as though it was common sense that he wanted to go after them - whoever they were.

“But Hopper he- he knows about all of the weird stuff going on, I’m sure he’d be understanding.” You reasoned, still not wanted to go through with this.

“Y/N… do YOU want to go after the Russians?” Steve finally asked, turning into the area of town with more houses, leaving behind the gas station that you both usually stopped at for drinks after a long day of work. 

“No I- It’s dangerous.” You said, but that excuse with nothing and you knew it.

“We’ve fought monsters before, I’m sure humans are a step down from that-” 

“Steve I- last time you almost died and I can’t-” You internally cringed at the memory of seeing him bloody and bruised, remembering him going out with nothing but a baseball bat and the terror on your face as you did everything you could to help. “I don’t want you to die.” you commented, glancing back down at your lap.

“That won’t happen again and… is me living really more important than like- maybe everyone in our town?” Steve questioned you as he glanced at you for a moment, mostly keeping his eyes on the road, though.

“They’re not you.” You mumbled, looking out of the window of the car, almost embarrassed at the clinginess you felt toward your best friend. All those years of watching Steve grow and change, feeling more than friendly things toward him and nearly crying every time he told you about a new girl and you’re just just attached at the hip as you always had been.

There wasn’t much time to think about this, though, as you felt Steve slide his hand into your own comfortingly, his other hand firmly on the steering wheel. “You can stay back if you want to, you know, I’d rather you not be in danger an-”

“No!” You rushed out, eyes wide as your head snapped to look at Steve. “If you’re going I’m going, you’re not getting yourself killed and leaving me behind.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, “So you’re implying we should die together?” He asked, trying to keep the conversation somewhat light-hearted as he pulled into the parking lot of his own home - about three down from yours. 

“I’m not implying anything, I’m saying that if this goes wrong and something happens I’m gonna be there.” You finally said, unbuckling your seatbelt before motioning ahead. “You want a sleepover or something? I’d love to braid your hair, Stevie.” You teased as you got out of the car, but even teasing felt wrong. You were absolutely terrified. 

“I want to walk you back, but since you’re so worried for me maybe you don’t want me walking back alone.” He retorted playfully, meeting you on the other side of the car.

You smacked his arm, “This is serious.” You said, walking toward your house with the boy practically at your heels. 

“I know, Y/N I know I just-” He stopped, not knowing exactly what it was that he wanted to say. “I’m scared too, you know, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.” He said as you finally reluctantly turned back to look at him. “But we have to do this, someone has to, you know people are just going to think we’re being crazy because of Vietnam or something.” 

With a sigh, you nodded. “I know that, I just hate seeing you hurt. I can’t imagine my life without you in it. You’re my best friend… I need you.” You said, feeling Steve link his arm with yours as you walked closer to your house, almost wishing you didn’t have to go in without Steve - just incase you never got to see him again.

You had noticed something stall in him at your words, maybe it was saying that you needed him - not that it was the only thing you wanted to say. But whatever it was that had given him pause wore off rather quickly as he composed himself. “I need you too, and I’m… I’m sorry to put you in this situation… again.” He said as you finally reached your door and turned to look at him - your worried expression instantly softening at his apologetic features.

“You shouldn’t have to apologize for wanting to help people Steve, I’m just being paranoid.” You brushed it off, moving your hand to fix a strand of his hair that was sticking up. 

Steve sighed and shook his head, “I understand that,”  He said, catching your wrist to keep some sort of contact - something that caused your stomach to flutter slightly. “But we will make it out of this, and everyone else will too. I promise.” He said, sticking out his pinkie for a pinkie promise - one of dozens you’d made with him.

You tried to fight back the smile on your face as you twisted your pinkie with his, “I trust you.” You finally responded, letting yourself smile. 

“Good, good, because you also just agreed to a sleepover when this is all over - I wanna see what you can do with my hair.” He teased, causing you to laugh. 

“Ok, ok, but if you hate it don’t cry.” You said with a smile. “Goodnight, Steve.” You finally said, rather softly, as you opened the door to your home. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He responded, walking down the sidewalk back to his house. There was a part of you that wanted to follow after him, ask him to stay with you or kiss him or something - it was almost always in the back of your head when he said goodnight. But you knew you couldn’t do that, so you just shut your front door and ran to the living room. Contrary to mocking annoyment at the idea of you not trusting him to walk down the sidewalk, you’d feel bad if you didn’t watch to make sure someone didn’t get him. 

Once you knew he had made it back home, you sighed and walked  to your bedroom, changing into what you typically slept in and slipped into bed. On a normal day, you might take a shower and watch a movie or something. But tonight you just wanted to go to bed, everything you had learned about the mall that day had just been too much.

The sound of your alarm clock startled you awake as you got out of bed, changing what you usually wore to work and turning to go outside. You were met, as you usually were, by the sight of Steve sitting in his car waiting for you to finish getting ready. 

“So, what are we doing today?” You asked him, sliding into the passenger seat and wrapping the seatbelt around you as you clicked it in place.

“I’m not sure, I’ll let you know if something happens but… I’ll just let you know.” Steve seemed to trail off, doing a U-Turn to turn back the way he had driven the previous night. For a moment it almost seemed like he didn’t want you involved, similar to how you didn’t particularly want him involved, but there you both were - directly in the middle of the Russian conspiracy theory. 

As you arrived at the mall, you left your bag in the car - again, as you usually did. Normally, you would be talking to Steve on the way in, but both of you seemed rather tense.

“It feels wrong going in here… I feel like we’re gonna be like-” You cut off, glancing around to make sure there was nobody that looked suspicious. “It feels like we might be… killed or something.” You finally said as you glanced over at Steve, walking into the mall with him, but a part of you wanted to turn around and never come back.

“It’ll be okay, they could have killed us last night probably if they thought we were on to them. I’m sure this is going to be fine.” He said, but he didn’t seem too assured. 

You nodded, though, because he really was right. The mall had your addresses from the checks being mailed home, if the Russians suspected that you knew something they could have had you killed already - and it made no sense to do something like that in a giant mall, especially when you lived so close together. 

“I’ll see you during our lunch break?” You questioned as you had reached Scoops Ahoy, Steve nodding in response. 

“Or earlier, if we find something and I have time to get you.” he responded, your heart almost dropping. 

“If you find something you need to get me, okay, or at least try- I don’t want you to get hurt I-” You were getting frantic again, keeping your voice down to not draw-awareness. 

“I will, but if something happens and you don’t see me during lunch promise you’ll come looking.” He said, watching as you nodded in response. You had to be realistic, something might happen and you might not be able to go together. “And you can’t pretend to be sick.” He said, as if reading a thought that may have crossed your mind.

“Alright.” You agreed reluctantly, waving a hello to Robin who you saw behind the counter and turning around, but for a moment something clicked in your brain. You might not see either of them for a while, if worse comes to worse. “Please stay safe, both of you.” You finally said as you turned back around, both of your close friends nodding before you walked to your job at The Gap.

The rest of the day you had basically spent most of the day folding clothes and answering customers questions, but your mind couldn’t help but wander. You were completely distant from everything that was going on, you couldn’t focus on anything. More than once you’d wanted to tell a customer to leave the mall, to never come back, because you felt like everyone was in danger at that moment. But you couldn’t. 

A while later, your lunch break started - as you walked over to Scoops Ahoy you noticed that neither Steve nor Robin were there, and you started to fear for the worst. 

It was a frantic scramble for the next few moments before you ran into someone, someone who grabbed your arms and pulled you in front of them.

“Hey-” 

“Steve? I th-”

“I know, I can explain, just come with me.” He said as he started guiding you over to a table. When you sat down, you noticed the people you were used to, at this point. Robin and Dustin, but you also noticed the inclusion of another new face. She looked familiar for a moment, before you placed that it was Erica Sinclair. 

“Why is-” You motioned to Erica, “Is she going to help us? What’s-” You were practically choking on your words, completely confused by what was going on as you felt Steve slide into the seat beside you. 

“We need someone to go through the vents to open the loading dock for us to get in, Dustin couldn’t fit and he thought he knew someone who could.” Robin explained, “And, she agreed in exchange for ice cream.” She added on.

You nodded along to what she said, wondering if it was a good idea to have her tagging along but knowing that if there was no other option there was no reason why the rest of you couldn’t just watch after her. 

The rest of the day was finished somewhat normally, with the looming knowledge that you would be getting into Russian equipment as soon as the mall closed. 

Ironically, you finished work early for the first time in a while. Your co-workers had been a little too diligent in making sure everything was stocked for the next day, granted, your supervisors had told you to be extra diligent for the next few days since it was the week of the holiday. While it meant that everything was going to be done sooner than it would have been otherwise, it also meant that you needed to break into Russian information sooner.

You quietly walked to where Scoops Ahoy was, you shouldn’t have been as paranoid as you were about going to see your friend who drove you home anyway - but with the given circumstances you felt like everything that you were doing was completely out of the ordinary. 

“You’re here early.” Robin commented from behind the counter as she jumped on top of the stand, sliding across it. 

“We finished early, I don’t think anyone else is still here though.” You said as you glanced around the empty mall. “Even if they are, I don’t think anyone’s going to notice us climbing on the roof.” 

It was only a few minutes later before Dustin, Robin, Steve and yourself departed for the rooftop outside of the loading deck - Erica moving for the vents that would allow you all to enter from that part of the building. 

As you laid on the rooftop, making sure to be as close to the roof as possible as to not draw any attention if there were to be someone who could be paying attention to any of you, you couldn’t help but feel like you shouldn’t be doing what you were doing.

There was just this feeling in your brain, this feeling that maybe this was wrong and that none of you should be involved. But, before you could allow your mind to wander too far with that idea the dock was open, and you were all climbing down the latter and walking quickly and quietly into the building before shutting the door behind you. 

It was eerie being inside of this part of the mall, surrounded by these boxes that you’d seen being walked through the mall and thought nothing of. Seeing them knowing that they were something else, something that could pose a threat to yourself and everyone else that you happened to know. 

You kneeled next to the boxes, watching as Steve opened one of them with a box cutter. You nearly jumped as you told Dustin to get back, but you did not expect him to tell you to get back. 

“If you die I die.” Dustin responded to Steve’s criticism, his firm tone seeming to surprise everyone - including you. 

“I agree with Dustin, if you die I die too.” You commented, high fiving Dustin above Steve’s head.

Steve seemed to blink for a moment, “Okay then.” He finally said, glancing between the both of you before twisting one of the tubes inside of the box and pulling it out.

You all stared in awe of the green, shining liquid-type thing inside of the jar that Steve was holding, having no clue what it could possibly be that he was holding.

Before you had the chance to tell him to put it down you all felt the room begin to move, only for a moment, before everyone started rushing to get the door opened. But the door didn’t seem to want to open. 

You let out a yell as you saw the walls begin to close in, and felt the room start shooting downwards. You fell over on top of one of the boxes, hitting your hip and most likely leaving a bruise. 

As soon as the room stopped, you slowly stood up. Of course, you quickly pieced together that what you were in wasn’t a room at all - but rather an elevator where the Russian’s happened to be keeping their things. Now, not only were you deep below the ground, but the doors to the elevator were completely covered over by a metal wall. 

As soon as you stood up, moving to stand with everyone else, you felt the need to collapse back onto the ground in some sort of defeat. “I didn’t think this was how we were going to die, of all the ways.” 

Steve kneeled in front of you, “We’re not gonna die, we just have to find a way out of here.” he tried to reassure you as he stood back up and started looking around for something. You assumed he was looking for some kind of emergency switch or exit, or maybe a way to get above the elevator in order to get out. 

But that kind of idea was quickly shot down, realizing that this might as well have been a metal box that you were all stuck in. There didn’t seem to be a way out.

“Maybe someone will come back in the morning, we could just…” You trailed off, making the motion of running your finger over your throat. 

“We are not going to kill whoever comes in here, Y/N.” Robin replied, a nearly disappointed look on her face at the way that your mind had instantly gone to that. 

“My point still stands, someone is probably going to come in here for whatever that green shit is tomorrow, if we hide I’m sure there will be a way to hold the door open. Better yet, maybe it’ll just go back up.” You said, feeling as if your brain was finally clicking into place. Most likely because this wasn’t the first time you were in a life or death situation, and truthfully it wasn’t the scariest either. 

“But what if they don’t come back for like… a week or something for another delivery.” Dustin added on, but you shook your head.

“That thing can’t just be sitting here, they’ve gotta do something with it I’m sure.” You said confidently. Maybe you weren’t too confident that someone was going to come back tomorrow, maybe someone wouldn’t be back for a few days, but you didn’t want to think about that. 

“In the meantime, though, we should try to find a way out in case whoever comes back tomorrow knows that we’re here.” Robin said, something that you couldn’t help but agree with.

It was about two hours before you had just given up, deciding that you most likely weren’t going to find a way out as everyone has scoured every inch of the elevator that you were stuck in. You gave the ‘Open Door’ button one last press before sliding back against the wall, a yawn escaping your lips as you leaned your head back. 

You felt someone beside you, and turned to find Steve sitting next to you, a defeated look on his face. “We’re not gonna die here,” You said. But you weren’t sure if you were saying it in an attempt to reassure yourself or to reassure Steve.

“Even if we do get out…” He trailed off, seemingly not wanting to think about what could happen next. “We were just supposed to come in here and leave. Not… get stuck down here.” He seemed frustrated and somewhat exhausted.

“We came down here to stop bad people from doing bad things, it just went a little wrong.” You said, wanting to bring some kind of hope into the discussion. But even before you didn’t have much hope that just the few of you could do much of anything, and now you’d all gotten stuck in an elevator.

“I didn’t want you down here with all the Russians, you know that right?” Steve asked, turning to look at you as you finally met his eyes. “I know you didn’t even want to be involved with this and if you get killed ‘cause of me-” 

“It’s not that I didn’t want to be involved, it’s that I didn’t want you to get hurt. It was never about me.” You said rather softly, watching his expression seemingly change for a moment as he got ready to do or say something - which one, you weren’t sure - but he seemed to stop himself when you let out another yawn.

“You can sleep, Y/N, I won’t let anything happen to you - I promise.” He said, sort of comfortingly as he wrapped an arm around you and let you rest your head gently on his shoulder.

“Goodnight Stevie.” You mumbled as you quickly fell asleep, the exhaustion from working and the stress of the day and the current situation being enough to effectively knock you out. 

It was only another few hours before you woke up at the feeling of movement, not really doing anything about it until you eventually heard the sound of a door opening. You were concealed by a box, and thankfully whoever had come in wouldn’t be able to see you. As you came to a bit more, you noticed Steve slide a box in between the doors that had opened to stop them from closing again. 

You followed everyone out of the room, “Nothing happened while you were asleep.” Dustin said from in front of you, your eyes moving over as you realized he was speaking to you. 

“Well, I figured, we were locked in a room - but I guess you never know.” You responded, quietly, as you walked down the hallway - your eyes practically running around the room as you made sure that there was nobody in there with you. 

It was a little while longer, everyone walking down corridors and you mostly being quiet out of fear that someone was going to hear you, that you would speak at the wrong time.

Eventually you reached what seemed to be some sort of communication room, but as you walked in you were face to face with a Russian Soldier. You froze for a minute, before searching for some sort of blunt object that you could use - for a moment considering throwing your shoes at the man. But Robin distracted him by reiterating the Russian code to him, and Steve seemed to think quick enough to knock the man out. 

“Good thinking,” You said as you turned to Robin - before your eyes began scanning the room. Finally, they found a door, and you walked with Robin to it, assuming that the others were following.

“Thanks,” She trailed off, seemingly distracted as she pushed open a door. You stood in shock of what you were staring at, the other three following you both into the room as Robin motions them in.

“Shit…” You trailed off, your brain connecting what you were looking at. Of course this had to be the reason that they were in a small town like Hawkins, seeing it before you made everything make perfect sense. Or, as much sense as a situation like this could possibly make to someone with a limited understanding of any of it. 

Quickly, you all made your way out of the room, looking for an escape before Erica noticed that the Russian soldier was no longer with Steve. By the time you’d all realized, though, it was too late. 

The only thing that you could do was run as fast as your feet could carry you, following after the other four. But you couldn’t be shocked that you were outnumbered, and try as you might to look for any type of exit it was obvious to you that there wasn’t going to be a safe exit - at least not for everyone.

You watched as Dustin and Erica quickly walked over to a vent, Steve pushing you toward them. “Go! It’ll be safer-”

“I can handle myself, Steve.” You replied back, urgently trying to get back over to the door with Robin. 

“It’s not about that, just go I don’t need you to di-”

“No! Not without you!” You finally yelled back, Steve seeming to stop for a moment before accepting that there wasn’t enough time to convince you to go with Dustin and Erica. You watched as they got away, knowing at that moment that your choice had been completely solidified. 

The next thing you knew, there was a swift punch to your face - the world going black, and all of the commotion surrounding you seeming to just fade away. 

You weren’t sure how long it was before you woke up again, but you seemed to come to your senses rather quickly. The room you were shoved into was rather small, almost like a mop closet but it was completely empty - a flickering fluorescent being your only form of light. There was no one with you, for a couple seconds, that is. 

Within a few moments of waking up a man walked into the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him as you turned to you with a smug expression.

“You put up quite a fight, you know.” the man commented, much to your dismay.

“I can’t… I don’t remember that.” You responded, which, again to your dismay, made him seem to laugh for just a moment as your confusion.

“No, you wouldn’t, we’ve already injected you with the serum we’re about to give your friends.” He said, glancing down at you for a moment, seemingly at your body. “Have you looked at yourself?” The commented, again, with a smug expression on his face.

It was then that you glanced down, multiple knife wounds on your body, blood covering the front of your shirt. “Wh-”

“The serum will stop the pain for a little while, but if you don’t start telling the truth soon…” He trailed off, moving closer to you and pressing down on the wound that you could only assume was a stab, though it felt as if it was covered by a bandage, “You’re going to regret it.” 

You watched as blood pooled around where he was pressing, but the serum was strong enough to make it only feel like an intense pressure, almost like getting a root canal at the dentist's office - you know something terrible is happening, but can only kind of feel it. 

At that moment you could only realize: he had mentioned your friends. “Where are they, where did you take them.” You grunted out, almost instinctively reaching for the man’s neck as he moved back.

“It wouldn’t matter if I told you, the way things are going - they’re not going to make it out of the day.” he responded, his thick Russian accent making his words harder to understand - but you understand perfectly clear what he was trying to say.

“If you don’t fucking tell me where they are I swear to God I will fucking bite you- I will bite your Adam’s Apple out you son of a-” That was enough to make the man swiftly slap you across the face, standing up and waling to the door. 

“If you don’t want the easy way… I guess I’ll just send in the doctor.” He said, walking out of the room and leaving you alone.

As you stood up to look for some way out, assuming there had to be a way, you narrowly dodged a vent falling from above you. “Dustin?!” You whisper-yelled, watching as he dropped from the vent and onto the ground.

“What the hell happened to you?” He asked, taking in your bloodied form. 

“I don’t remember- Where’s Steve?” You asked him, watching as he moved toward the door with what appeared to be a couple bobby pins he had gotten from Erica. 

“We’re going to get him right now,” He started as the door unlocked. “How is it that you got stabbed and your first question is ‘where’s Steve’?” Dustin questioned as he peeked his head out of the door way before motioning for you to follow him out. 

You followed Dustin out, feeling the familiar pressure of the stab wound on your waistline - now that you were standing, it was clear that it was somewhere on the far left part of your hip - thankfully far away from any important organs. 

As you walked through the long corridors, making sure to avoid any hubs of people, you found yourself passing by the very room that you last remembered being in - before being brought to another interrogation room. Dustin prodded a man in a lab coat with a large, electrified metal rod before you both made quick work of untying Steve and Robin.

Despite your current bloodied and wounded state, you still found yourself getting a lump in your throat seeing the injuries that Steve had sustained. 

“You’re going to be okay, we’re all going to be okay.” You said once you had finally gotten the ties done on his hands - resting a hand on the side of his cheek for a moment before turning to Dustin. “You know how to get out of here?” You questioned, watching as he nodded in response. “Alright then, good.” 

You ran after Dustin, making sure Robin and Steve were behind you both as you got into the cart, leaning your head against the wall as you sat across from Steve and Robin.

You tilted your head at their current state, before remembering the mention of a serum - one you were supposed to have had, but you just assumed it was why you couldn’t remember anything that happened to you; that and the fact that it was probably working overtime to numb the pain of your wound. 

For the first time, you pulled your shirt up slightly. Your suspicion was correct, they had put a bandage over the wound. But it was flimsy at best, leaving a large patch of blood on your hip where you had been bleeding through. 

You dropped your shirt quickly, shifting uncomfortably as you followed everyone into the elevator. Maybe it was how quickly it was moving, or maybe it was just the natural span of the drugs, but you felt your head begin to pound, and with it you felt the stab wound for the first time; a sharp pain coming through as you let out a groan.

“You’re not looking too good,” Dustin commented as you looked over toward him with a slight glare. 

“I’ll meet you back at the movie theater, just let me run and get a first aid kit.” You responded, once you’d finally gotten out of the elevator. It felt odd being in the movie theater, having just escaped from a Russian lab directly under where you were at the moment. 

As soon as you stepped out you quickly made your way to The Gap, knowing that there was a first aid kit kept in the back. You reached your hand into the side of your bra, pulling out the store key that you kept in there and sliding it into the lock - twisting it and making a painful bolt for the back of the store.

Letting out another loud groan, you grabbed the first aid kit and basically dropped onto the ground, leaning against the wall for support as you hiked your shirt up and removed the bandage.

It was a painful process, trying to clean up the blood and tightly wrap a bandage on in a timely manner - but you managed, with perhaps less than a dozen cuss words uttered. 

As soon as you were finished, you reached into the kit and pulled out a few advil’s, doing your best to swallow them without water before locking the kit back up and making your way back out of the store - but as you looked down at your clothing you sighed and grabbed a shirt and jacket, changing quickly before walking back out. Stealing was wrong, but in this case you knew you would raise some sort of suspicion if you ran out covered in blood. You locked the store back up and left  to go to the movie theater. 

You didn’t end up making it all the way back as you found the scoops troop gathered outside of the bathroom. “Wh-”

“Long story,” Dustin cut you off as you all noticed people beginning to pour out of the movie theater. “Let’s go.” He said, and you followed after him.

“What happened to you, Dustin mentioned something about getting stabbed?” Steve questioned, watching as you turned to look over at him.

“Well… I got stabbed.” You said, almost teasingly as you walked out of the movie theater area with them. “I can’t believe this worked.” You said, a small grin of relief covering your face as you made your way to the door of the mall - but before you did, your hopes were immediately dashed by the men checking identifications at the door. 

You ran quickly through the crowd of people, running anywhere that you could possibly run to hide from the people following after you - as you finally jumped behind the scoops ahoy counter you hugged your knees to your chest, slowing your breathing as best as you could as you scooted in next to Steve.

It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest as you heard the last voice exit the movie theater, your head quickly turning to face Steve. He slowly moved his hand to slide into yours, you weren’t sure if he was attempting to calm your fears or his own but you didn’t care because in that moment it helped you. 

There was so much you needed to say, so much you knew you were never going to say as you heard the men’s footsteps draw closer to the countertop. But then the car started going off, and after the loud noise of an automobile crash you popped your head up to see the men having been crushed by a car. 

As you glanced up, you saw the rest of the party on the ledge above, your face breaking out into a grin as you stood up. “We’re alive!” You said, rather enthusiastically as you turned to look at Steve. He didn’t seem to have much time to respond as you quickly pulled him into a tight hug, the grin never leaving your face as you pulled back to look at him. “I really thought we were gonna die for like… the second time tonight and I-”

You were cut off as you felt him lean in to quickly press his lips against yours in an urgent kiss. It didn’t take more than a couple seconds for you to pull him closer - even if it just lasted for a few moments.

“I’m sorry, I just realized I had some unfinished business while we were about to die.” He said as he finally pulled back, a small smile covering your lips as you looked at him. 

“That’s crazy, because I felt the exact same way.” You said in a rather playful manner, your conversation cut short as you hear someone clear their throat.

“If you two are finished making out, we have a situation at hand.” Dustin commented, watching as you both begrudgingly got out from behind the counter and joined the rest of the group. You seemed to tune out the conversation though, your eyes settling on El. She seemed uncomfortable, you assumed at first she must just be hurting from the wound you noticed on her leg, but it seemed to be much worse than you had suspected. 

As soon as El collapsed to the ground you followed after her, before you noticed that something in her leg was moving. You were all going to have to act fast to figure out how you could help her, and Jonathan seemed to be the one that had figured out how. 

You did your best to calm the poor girl down, but you knew that it wasn’t going to end up working.because there was no way that she was going to end up feeling better with the amount of pain that she was clearly in at the moment. 

It was difficult for you to watch when Jonathan brought back the knife, even more difficult when you watched as the poor girl got her leg sliced into, his hand going in to dig out the intruder in her leg. You leaned back a bit when she decided to do it herself, moments away from asking if there was anything you could do before she ended up getting the thing out of her leg and throwing it to the side.

When you looked up, you noted that there was three more people in the room with you all - maybe this would be easier with them here. Maybe.

As you stood up from your place on the floor, you made your way over to sit beside Robin. “Are you okay?” You questioned as you turned to look at her, but she didn’t seem to have a solid answer. 

There was so much going on, and part of you didn’t even know how to comprehend it even though this wasn’t the first time that something like this had happened. You did your best to listen to the plans that were being made, but you figured it would be easier to just wait and see what you were going to end up doing.

You found out much sooner than expected as you left in a car with Robin, Steve, Dustin and Erica only moments later to go find a way for Dustin to guide Hopper, Murray and Joyce through the mall. 

You quickly walked out of the mall, your eyes widening as you turned to look at Steve. “I accepted King Steve, not too sure I’m down with Daddy Steve.” You teased as you got into the car. 

As you did Steve sent you a playful glare, “You know you love it, who wouldn’t.” He responded back with a grin and a teasing kiss on your cheek as he started up the car.

Despite the urgency of the situation, Dustin seemed vehemently opposed to just giving Steve some normal directions to where he was being expected to drive you all, but maybe it was easier this way in some sense. Not that you were sure what sense that was, but perhaps it was easier for Dustin. Or, perhaps he just wanted to be difficult. 

You were rather calm, feeling the breeze in your hair despite the situation as you drove down the country roads. But what you weren’t expecting at all was the drive up a literal grassy hill. 

You let out a shocked yelp at the feeling of the grass under the car, and the feeling like the car was about to roll off of the hill. Thankfully it didn’t, but as the car cut out and you sat in shock you slowly realized that the car wasn’t going to work any further. 

You all got out of the car, walking up the hill and sitting down next to Dustin’s communication machine, watching as he attempted to get into contact with Suzie. 

“You know, maybe Suzie is asleep-” You started, but held your hands up defensively as Dustin sent a cold glare your way. 

You sat rather calmly in the grass for a little while, your eyes moving up to watch the stars before you turned to glance again at Steve. “You know, I did mean what I said earlier.” Steve said as he scooted over to sit closer to you.

“That you think I love calling you Daddy Steve?” You questioned with a tone of bewilderment in your voice as you stared at him. 

“What? No, I mean… when I thought that we were going to die I just- I realized that I um… I had some unfinished business because i uh-” He seemed to cut himself off, not really knowing what to say without being awkward. 

“I don’t know exactly what you’re trying to say but I’m pretty sure I feel the same way I mean I was literally stabbed and I was all like ‘oh god- but what about Steve’.” You said, more awkward than you intended.

“It’s true, she was asking about you when I rescued her.” Dustin said, you motioning to him.

“See? I just-” You cut yourself off as you glanced down, your eyes finding that of the mall. “You see that too, right?” You questioned. Steve turned where you were looking and his eyes widened. 

“Uh… guys?” He said, pointing to the mall. 

Dustin began to frantically try to contact the people in Starcourt, but when he did all that you heard was the sound of a monstrous roar that was absolutely not Mike Wheeler, or anyone else in that mall. 

You and Steve seemed to have the same idea as you shared a glance and stood from your place on the ground, running down the hill without saying anything before Dustin questioned where you were going. You didn’t know what you were going to be able to do, just you Steve and Robin weren’t going to be able to save everyone. But you would be damned if you didn’t try, at the very least. There had to be something you could do, even if it was the move of a martyr. 

You quickly got into the car, watching as Steve struggled to get it started before backing up down the hill. You were surprised that it ended up working, but glad that you would be able to have something that would, hopefully, get you all to the mall quicker than you would have been able to get there on foot. 

As Steve sped to the mall, you found yourself fruitlessly trying to find a way to look at it and see something, anything, that was going on there - maybe even someone from the mall having escaped. But you found nothing, no matter how hard you looked. 

“Are there any weapons or something in here?” 

“No! No there’s nothing here I checked on the way.” Robin responded, seemingly as stressed out about this as you were. 

Once you made it to the parking lot you saw a car trying to crash into your friends, trying to escape from the mall. You recognized the car to be Billy’s, which was odd since you had no idea why he could possibly be there. 

You hopped out of the now destroyed car you were in, looking around for somewhere to go before you heard someone yell to get in. You quickly got into the back of the van with everyone else, listening to the communication channels as you finally heard the voice you had been waiting to hear; honestly thinking that it was probably not real.

“Suzie is real…” You trailed off, letting out a laugh at the sound of her singing with Dustin on the communication channel. While it hardly seemed to be the right time or place, you were absolutely not going to let Dustin live that down the next time that you saw him.

You all made your way back to the mall when the commotion stopped, when it seemed like everything was over, to make sure that everyone was okay. But when you got there, you quickly learned that both Billy and Hopper didn’t survive the attack. 

You covered your mouth with your hand, feeling tears well in your eyes - maybe it was the stress, maybe it was because Hopper who you’d known was dead, or because of how El was going to feel after losing him. But you felt absolutely distraught at the news. Steve pulled you into his side, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head before an EMT stopped in front of you. 

“Ma’am… you’re bleeding.” She said lightly, pointing to the wound on your hip. 

“Oh- Yeah I… um… long night would you-” 

She cut you off with an immediate nod, bringing you back to stitch up your wound. You insisted that you would be okay without going back to the hospital, and she very begrudgingly let you go so long as you weren’t going to be alone.

It was a rather short, and mainly silent, walk back home with Steve. As you stopped in front of your door, you turned to look at him. “Would you… um… come in?” You questioned, Steve nodding lightly as he followed you into your house and to your bedroom. 

Neither of you really had any interest in changing, the stress of the day being enough to make you not feel the need to change - you just wanted to lay down with Steve. 

As Steve laid down, pulling you under the covers as you rested your head in the crook of his neck, you felt him mumble something against your hair.

“What was that?” You questioned, your head moving up to look into his eyes.

“Earlier, I was trying to tell you that I love you and… thinking I was going to die without saying it… I was so scared.” he said, his eyes soft and genuine.

Your lips formed a smile, light, but all you could manage after the long day. “I love you too, Steve, I- I think I always have.” You said lightly, feeling him learn down slightly as you met him in the middle for a soft kiss. 

As you both pulled back you let out a sigh, “Does this count as our sleepover?” You asked playfully, Steve letting out a laugh as he shook his head.

“No, expect me over for dinner tomorrow night.” He said matter-of-factly as he looked at you.

“Fair… I don’t think I want to be alone for a little while anyway.” You said, a certain vulnerability showing that seemed to make Steve’s eyes soften.

“You never have to be alone, you know that right?” He asked, to which you nodded and pressed another soft kiss to his lips before resting your head once more. 

“Pinkie promise?” You asked softly, to which he held out his pinkie, your two fingers intertwining - a moment later just shifting to tangle your hands together. 

There were a lot of obvious reasons to fear staying in Hawkins, to resent the things that you were exposed to through the life that you had - nothing about it was normal. But you wouldn’t trade it for the world, because Steve was the only normalcy that you needed. You knew he would never leave, because for you both a pinkie promise meant forever.

[mieohmy]

𝖢𝗈𝗇𝖼𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖢𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗌 | 𝖫𝖾𝖾 𝖳𝖺𝖾𝗒𝗈𝗇𝗀

PAIRING: schoolnurse! lee taeyong x topstudent! reader

GENRE: fluff, humor, small angst, rivals-to-kinda-lovers!, high school au

WC: 3.9k

NOTES: mentions of injury (concussions um) slight cursing, violence, kinda bullying?

SUMMARY: being one of the top students of your school, you should’ve known getting hit in the head four times would eventually lead to a visit to the school nurse. and maybe you also should’ve known the very nurse was somehow the one person you hated? 

ღ 

The first time you got hit was an accident. Scratch that- technically all four times you got knocked in the head were an accident, and you were honestly getting worried about the amount of brain cells you were losing.

You will admit that the very first was your fault. You weren’t paying attention in gym, and the volleyball smacks you (rightfully so) in the side of the head. You’re pretty sure you just sadly crumble to the ground in surprise. Well, and a teensy amount of pain. 

Who are you kidding- a lot of pain.

A clamor of voices follow, most of them ‘are you okays?’ and ‘shoot, my bad”. Luckily, you’re able to get out mostly unscathed, and the whole thing becomes a faint memory buried in your brain somewhere. 

ღ

Until you get hit a second time. This couldn’t be a coincidence, right? It happened in the gym, again. Except you were fully paying attention. This time you were just being dumb.

You think since you were one of the top students in the school, you wouldn’t be dumb enough to stand right underneath a basketball hoop. Sadly, you were. 

Someone had gotten the ball stuck between the hoop and the board (that one annoying spot), leading to several people attempting to hit the ball out. And you standing underneath the hoop, obtaining and giving other people’s balls back to them and also attempting to get that one stupid basketball unstuck. 

Frowning, you look straight up at the hoop. “Doyoung, a little more to the left-“ And then you saw it (and maybe also heard a watch out!). The unmistakable shape of an orange circle. A firm, striped one that was definitely getting closer and closer to your face. 

You only get the chance to open your mouth before it thuds off your forehead -you’re pretty sure you hear a firm thunk!- and it bounces off into the distance. 

There’s about two seconds of silence before you groan in pain, clutching your head and hearing the oofs and questions. You insist you’re fine, still.(really, though?)

It wasn’t serious enough to get a trip to the nurse, just a sad time-out on the benches.

ღ

This time had to be the last. I mean, at least it wasn’t a ball...

But was a metal locker door any better?

It occurred a couple weeks after the last ....incident. Yuta follows you out of the classroom, walking over to where his locker was. 

As he puts his books in, you lean back on the lockers next to his, huffing in annoyance. “-I mean, why does he even care about bonus points? It was just two more, anyways!” 

Yuta looks at you, unamused. “Why do you even care about him caring?” 

“I don’t! It’s just annoying! He’s annoying!” You turn to face him, side now pressing against the locker. And just as you’re about to continue, you hear an angry groan and a locker springing open from behind. 

You never hated top lockers more than at that moment.  

The door flies open, effectively pounding the back of your head. The impact somehow hard enough to leave the locker door shaking. 

The rattling metal echoes through the hall as you grab your head in distraught. Yuta watches you with a shocked expression, and you whip around to see who the culprit was. 

You wouldn’t say you were angry, just..... irked.

And behold, an extremely apologetic looking Jungwoo. He explained, “I was just super frustrated and took it out on my locker. I swear I didn’t see you right there!!”

You blamed getting the second-highest test grade in the class on him. At that point, it really seemed like getting hit in the head was affecting you and your perfect grades. But you still refused to go to the nurse, why?  I mean, you could still function properly, so there was no need... right?

ღ

If the locker door wasn’t bad enough, the last straw that caused the whole mess was by an elbow. Specifically Johnny’s elbow, you later found out. 

He was holding something in his hands, elbows pointing out, you weren’t sure what it was exactly. How funny it was that you forgot how tall Johnny really is. So as you snuck up behind him, he quickly turns his upper body around. 

Which meant his sharp elbow came in contact with your head. 

It wasn’t even that hard but apparently hard enough to cause you to blackout. (And perhaps the three previous times didn’t quite help either. )

When you finally come about, you see a crowd hovered over you, concerned and some panicking. And that’s how you figured you probably passed out in the middle of the gym. 

No lie, you felt horrible. Like someone who just woke up from a hangover. Apparently, you were only out for a couple of seconds, but people still assisted you up, insisting you needed help. 

So why were you still surprised to find out you couldn’t name the months of the year in order?

“Y/n-no, October comes after September.” 

Huffing, you allow Johnny to drag you to the nurse's office. “Whatever, what does this have to do with concussions, again??”

“You’re literally one of the top two students in the school, and you can’t name the months of the year in order? Spells it right out for me.”

As he opens the door, you both clumsily shuffle in, looking for the nurse. 

...ha. That’s funny. Nudging Johnny, you whisper not so loudly. “I know I may have a concussion, but does the nurse kinda look like freakin’ taeyong or- ?”

You feel two pairs of eyes on you. Johnny ignores you, setting you down in a chair. “Hey, Taeyong. Got someone special for you.” 

You shoot him an incredulous look. “Lee Taeyong? The school nurse? Pffft. Like he could ever take care of others.” 

A voice cuts in. “Johnny, why did you bring them here?” You turn and immediately squint. Is that really him? 

It’s like he reads your mind, stating, “Yes, it’s me y/n. Not sure why you’re here, but it explains all your issues I guess.” 

Slowly raising a finger to point at him, you narrow your eyes. “I have no issues, thank you very much.” 

Standing up, you’re about to walk out when you stumble, and Taeyong catches you. 

His sharp eyes glare down at you, causing you to scrunch your face up in disgust. “Let go of me.” 

Taeyong rolls his eyes, not so softly placing you onto the chair. “Thanks, Johnny, I’ll take it from here.”

Before he leaves, you plead at him with wide eyes, ones screaming don’t leave me here with this ******. 

He grins and leaves anyway, and so you’re forced to be stuck alone in a room with taeyong.

Lee Taeyong, one of the top students of the school and apparently the school nurse too? Was he even qualified??? The top student next to you, that is. It was always the two of you competing. To be number one. Always comparing grades and test scores.

It was strange, at first. When you met him, you actually liked him. I mean, with his good looks and seeming perfect personality and all. Then people started to notice you and your high grades, comparing it with his. 

You didn’t really care about it, but apparently, Taeyong did. That started the bickers, then the arguments and resentment. 

And it led to what you two were now. Rivals competing for the top spot. 

“-I’m guessing you hit your head??”

You blink. “Eh?” 

“Huh, is it that bad?” he mutters. “Does your head hurt?” 

You shrug. “Well, Johnny said I probably have a concussion but I feel okay?” What a lie.

“Well then why are you here?” he deadpans. 

You roll your eyes. “Can you just like, do your job and not talk back for once? Just make sure I’m okay or whatever..”

He sighs, moving to stand in front of you. You furrow your eyebrows. “What are you doing?” Taeyong doesn’t say anything, instead suddenly grabbing your face with his hands. His hands were surprisingly warm, touch soft.

Panicking, you attempt to remove his hands, but his glare forces you to freeze. “Stop moving.” 

Then he pulls out a black object.  Oh, it’s a.... flashlight? “Don’t look straight into it,” he says quietly. 

The bright light blinds you at first, but after adjusting, your eyes focus on the only thing in your field of vision.  Him.

And for some reason, you take to chance to just... look at taeyong. His eyes are a deep, warm brown, focused on your face and much different from the usual dirty looks he would send your way. 

Of course, he was extremely handsome, but you would never say or admit that. You felt.... warm, the way his face was so close to yours-closer than it had ever been. there were no insults, just you and him. 

The light abruptly turns off with a click. And for some reason, you don’t move. Taeyong doesn’t either. His eyes make contact with yours. It was weird how the first thought that came into your head was that his eyes were really pretty. Too pretty.

He blinks. “I think you should be okay, just get some rest for the next couple of days or whatever. Don’t strain yourself too much. And no gym for the rest of the week either.” 

You slowly nod, making your way out of technically his office. After getting a considerable distance away, you take a moment to just think. It was different. He was different. Different from the usual snarky remarks and gloating. Nurse Taeyong, you almost laugh. 

Immediately straightening up, you squeeze your eyes shut. 

Tch. What were you thinking? You still couldn’t believe taeyong was the actual school nurse. Seriously, an annoying student like him? The school couldn’t even get a real one? And not to mention his fangirls. They probably came to visit him every day, taking over the whole place. 

You felt jealous. The fact that he took care of students every day and still was able to maintain his amazing grades. But even worse, you also felt admiration. Or at least you thought so, a tiny feeling blooming in your stomach. 

ღ

The topic of him comes up again one day at lunch. You were sitting at lunch with Ten and Yuta when the thought pops into your head.

“Hey, did you guys know that taeyong was the school nurse?” 

They both nod. You scoff. “Am I the only one who didn’t know?” Ten shoots you a look. “Maybe if you weren’t too busy flirting with him you would know.”

“I do not! He’s the one who likes to constantly compare our grades, and I just can’t let him win.” Yuta joins in. “Seriously y/n, you talk about him a lot. No matter if you say you hate him, it’s like you two are obsessed with each other.”

Shaking your head, you say, “No... I won’t ever like lee taeyong.” You miss the look Yuta and Ten share. 

ღ

You got detention. With said person. Maybe it was your fault. Or maybe it was his.

I mean, if you were called up to solve a problem and he kept making dumb remarks while you were writing, was it that unreasonable of you to call him a very school inappropriate name?

He sighs next to you, and you glare at him. “Sigh one more time and the files aren’t the only things that are getting shredded.” He scoffs. “What can you even do? You can’t even solve a simple calculus problem.” 

A wave of something intense, you can’t tell what it is, flows through you, and you angrily grab his collar, face inches from yours.

You’re not sure what it was, maybe hormones, who knows?, that caused you to simply say, “Well, I can do this,” and smash your lips onto his. 

He’s shocked at first, frozen, but surprisingly melts into it.

And just as he brings you closer, you break the kiss. You stare at each other for a couple of seconds before you abruptly turn and walk out, leaving him to do the rest of the work.

The next day, week, he actually doesn’t bring it up. The kiss, or you leaving him behind. You’re not even sure why you did it.

But things definitely changed. The looks he would send you and the comments. You wouldn’t say they got worse, actually the opposite. His comments were less harsh-just as frequent- but there was something else, hidden deeper, whenever you would meet his eyes.

ღ

You might’ve jammed your finger on a basketball. But you didn’t want to admit it(more like you were too lazy to do anything about it). Or maybe you were just too stubborn and didn’t want to go to the nurse. But it constantly bothered you throughout the whole day, so you went anyway. For some reason, you were nervous, thinking you were gonna have to face taeyong again. 

As quiet as possible, you twist the door open, creeping inside. Surprisingly, it’s empty. Frowning, you look around. There’s no one here?

You think you feel disappointed? but you laugh, instead just brushing it off. Muttering, you turn around to leave when you notice Taeyong. Standing in the doorway, looking confusedly at you. “Why are you here again?” 

Awkwardly coughing, you mumble, “I jammed my finger or something, I don’t know... C-Can you check it?” 

He sighs, gently taking your hand and leading you over to the bench. You watch as he examines it, making a small noise of pain when he touches it. He looks up, “what did you do?” 

You glance away sheepishly, “...basketball??” “Well, you probably sprained it. I’ll tape it. Does it hurt?” Slowly, you nod. 

As he deftly wraps your finger, you stare at him. His eyes, nose, lips. And after he looks up, an irritating knowing expression on his face, he still holds onto your hand. “Miss smarty pants finally stopped talking, huh?”

You blink. “-what? Uh,, I’m going... Thanks, I guess,” you barely finish your sentence. Slipping your hand away from his grip, he watches as you quickly whisk out from the office. 

ღ

It wasn’t even a week later. Your next visit. Except girls were visiting him- you could tell they obviously didn’t have a reason for going. That was a lie, their reason was him. Trying to flirt their way in, you thought with a tsk! Their heads turn to look at you, taeyong included. 

You could easily tell the look on his face- annoyed,  exasperated but still trying to hide it. You suddenly felt bad for him- it was probably tiring to have girls all over you all the time. Clearing your throat, you send a fake smile to them. 

“Are you guys finished?” They share a look before brushing past you. 

You hear a cough, turning towards the sound. Taeyong stands up from the desk, muttering thanks. You almost forgot why you were here. 

Plopping into one of the chairs, you stare up at the ceiling. “I’m missing something.” You can sense his confusion even when you’re not looking. “What?” 

Your head lolls toward him. “Here,” you casually point to your head. “I can’t focus in class today.” 

He frowns. “So what do you want me to do about it?” Humming, you reply, “Nothing. You’re not leaving for class now, right?” 

“No, why?” You sigh. “Let me just stay here. You don’t have to do anything, just don’t make me go back to class.” 

“Y/n. What’s going on? You’re missing your lesson, and I know you would never miss a chance to study more than me.” 

After a pause, you look at him. “Let’s not talk for like five minutes, alright?” He abruptly stands up, walking over to you, legs dangling off the sides of the chair. 

Taking your face in his palms, he examines you. “What’s wrong? Did you eat something bad? How much sleep did you get last night?”

Blushing, you slap his hands away. “Nothing’s wrong !! Can’t I just be here if I want?” 

Taeyong squints. “Four hours?” Rolling your eyes, you get up to leave, but his hand catches your uninjured one. “Stay.” You huff, about to snatch your hand away, but his grip tightens. “I want you to.” 

Normally, taeyong wouldn’t allow anyone to just hang out in the office, but for some reason, he just blurted that out. 

Your eyes widen, stopping your struggle.  “w-why are you suddenly saying that?” He mutters you can barely understand. “It gets lonely in here..” 

You try to fight the smile growing onto your face. He was a lot cuter when he was shy like this.

“ I lied. The real reason I came was for you to take this tape off my finger. I didn’t know how long I was supposed to keep it on, and then I kinda forgot about it.” Letting the grin breakthrough on your face, you continue. “But I didn’t know I would be getting more.”

You notice his flushed face and red ears. But what you don’t notice are the girls watching through the window. 

ღ

Cue the jealous confrontation. Frankly, you kinda forgot about the whole ordeal- exams were coming up, and just because Taeyong helped you didn’t mean you were gonna let him win. 

Page 534. That’s the page you were on before rudely being interrupted by a bunch of lowerclassmen. It’s confusing at first, but you stupidly agree to follow them outside to an empty hallway. There were still some lingering effects of that concussion, huh.,,,

You couldn’t tell earlier, but now facing them, their faces seemed annoyed? Angry? 

“Are you dating Taeyong?” you’re guessing the leader of the ‘gang’ demands. You squint in confusion. “What?-no! Why are you asking?” 

The girl scoffs. “Then why are you always flirting with him?” She moves closer, to the point where her face is right in front of yours, causing you to raise an eyebrow. “Just know, he’ll never date someone like you alright? So back off.”

You laugh, eyes glittering in amusement, but the tone in your voice says otherwise. “Who says I have to listen to you? Even if I was flirting with him- which is none of your business- I can do whatever I want.” 

There’s a lot of emotions swirling inside you. Shock, irritation, anger. For someone like taeyong, his fangirls were a lot different. 

“If you’re going to waste my time, I’m leaving.” 

You feel as if someone lit a match within you, but you turn to leave before it gets out of control. 

A hand grabs yours. Hard. Before spinning you around until you feel it. A hard slap leaving tingles on your cheek. And then, of course, a harsh tug on your hair, pulling you closer to that wretched face.

You can’t even think, process anything- it was too shocking. “This is a warning. Stay away from Lee Taeyong. Or next time it’ll be worse.” That’s all it takes for you to move once more. 

You slap her wrist away from your hair, emotions boiling. You enjoy the split second where her face shows fear, but it quickly changes back. She raises her arm again, and you do the same. No way in hell are you letting her touch you again. 

It almost feels like slow motion, both of your arms hovered in the air until a voice cuts through. 

“Y/n?” 

And then everyone freezes. You recognize his voice immediately. Taeyong’s standing at the end of the hallway, eyes wide and body tense. 

Hilarious how fast the whole group changes. Two-faced little- “Taeyong!!! We-we were just trying to get to class, and all of a sudden they- they attacked us! Please-!”

Scoffing, you’re about to just walk away, but Taeyong rushes to you. “Are you alright? Did you get hurt?” His eyes search your whole body, panicked.

Maybe your cheek was stinging pretty bad, but it was nothing compared to the raw satisfaction from those looks on the girls' faces. You don’t even spare a glance back as Taeyong drags you to the nurse's office. 

He sits you down in a chair, wasting no time in grabbing medicine. No words are exchanged. 

“Where did they hit you?” You couldn’t form the words to question how he knew. Swallowing, your hand raises to your cheek. 

You can’t tell if you hate or love the way he looks at you -concerned, tenderly. 

Even the way he speaks so softly. “It’s bruised...” Taeyong takes a glob of some white cream, making you wince when he makes contact with your cheek. His whisper of an apology tickles your face. 

It’s silent as he tends to you. The only thing you can hear is your thudding heartbeat. 

“I-is there more? Did they hit you anywhere else?” “No... thank you though.” As he cleans up, you really don’t have anything to say. 

“Will you at least tell me why they did that? You wouldn’t provoke anyone, I know.” You bite the inside of your cheek, debating. 

He sits in front of you, pleading. “Please?” You’re bewildered as to why he wants to know so bad, but you answer anyway, speaking quietly. “Your fan club-whatever, fangirls. They were jealous of me, apparently. It was stupid of me to follow them, and it was stupid of me to cause a scene.” 

He takes your hand, and you’re surprised at the anger on his face. “No. It wasn’t. They were out of control. It’s my fault since you said they were my-uh fans... I just didn’t know they would do such a thing. Seriously, I’ll tell them to stop completely.” 

“It’s fine,” you sigh, just wanting to go home and sleep. Taeyong’s grip on your hand tightens. 

“It’s not fine!” He objects, voice getting louder. 

You’re startled at his outburst. “Why do you care?”

“Will you stop getting hurt??” 

You frown. “That’s not what I asked. Why are you getting so angry?” You realize how close your faces have gotten, and he must’ve too, considering the sudden red cheeks. A lightbulb goes off in your head. 

Moving in more to bring your face even closer to his, you examine his reaction. Watching as his eyebrows raise before swiftly moving backward. 

A mischievous grin finds its way onto your face. You pretend to tap your chin before asking, eyes glinting, “so? why do you care so much?” 

Taeyong huffs, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “It’s just cause I won’t have anyone to compete with anymore if you’re always hurt. Don’t get any ideas... and stop coming to the nurse’s office!! Just go out with me outside of school,” he grumbles. "-and where no one can hurt you," he adds.

You pout, “I like visiting you.” Both of you falling back into a comfortable silence as you nod decisively. “Alright, since it’s nurse’s orders. But.....”

He glances at you, waiting for you to continue. 

Your face turns serious, and so does his. Facing him, you hold your pinky out in front of you, staring him in the eye. “Promise me.” 

“Promise you what?” 

“That you’ll take care of me. Whenever I’m hurt.” 

And you enjoy the moment when his pinky comes up and wraps around yours.

     A/N: I wrote these situations as a joke, but If you ever get hit in the head and it seems ‘more than harmless’ , please get it checked out ! (I would know from experience ...!)