#and it was so ridiculous I was just like 'Oh I have GOT to know EVERYTHING now'

[luckykiwiii101]

ONE THING ABOUT BEING THE QUEEN OF DELUSIONS? IT GIVES YOU A LONG WAY TO FALL

p.s. this post isn’t pretty, it wasn’t worth my time, or effort.

Hey Upper East Siders. Gossip girl here. Usually i’m here to help you fix your life, but @loaisacult, this one’s for you. And I can’t name any upper east siders more desperate than, well…you. It’s pitiful I know. But you can cry about it later, if you haven’t ran out of tears already, that is.

I don’t mean to start a fight, but there’s a weak link in every chain, and it just happens to be you.

I know you express your belief in the law of assumption being a cult. The funny thing is, when people don’t like something, they usually walk away, unless it bothers them that much. And the even funnier thing is, you complain about bloggers “preaching” the law of assumption, and getting others to follow. But what are you doing? Preaching your ideologies, in hopes that others will follow you too. Oh what’s that word again…hypocritical was it?

And oh sweetie, no one cares about your irrelevant opinions enough to affirm “@loaisacult doesn’t exist, @loaisacult doesn’t exist…” Talk about a weak argument. I hope law isn’t your major. But you know what is major? Your idiocy.

Calling people on this app suicidal? Pathetic. Although I can’t tell you that isn’t true. Because to some extent, it is. And i’d agree with you if you weren’t so ignorant. But I guess changing self in terms other than just loa isn’t your cup of tea. Bloggers are not meant to be personal therapists for people in the loacommunity. And yes there are and were previously some bloggers who would get suicidal asks from anons and just respond to them to persist. But why are you generalising EVERYONE in the community? Your point is immediately invalid. So because there were some immoral bloggers who would act that way automatically means that the whole entire practise of the law of assumption is a CULT? Hello? Do you hear yourself?

Let’s use your “logic” here. Say gossip girl makes a post telling her followers to worship satan. Therefore the whole entire loa community must ALL be satanists! Now how ridiculous is that…

Yes there are liars, everywhere. Oh i’m sorry, did that come as a surprise to you? You didn’t think the world was rainbows and sunshine did you? Well unless you assume it is. But at the same time, there are honest people too. Yet you like to pick and choose what to focus on. Look me in my virtual eyes and tell me that Lady gaga isn’t one of the most famous people on the planet. Oh wait..you can’t! News flash, she manifested that. And so did many of your other favourites. Yet you choose to focus on liars, because that’s what you want to believe. Of course a close minded, one sided argument is your way to go. Disregard everything else in the process why don’t you.

“It's ironic how some boast about manifesting luxury items like Lamborghinis, which could easily be rented, yet they fail to manifest meaningful change for their followers who are in abusive situations.” - l.o.s.e.r

B-b-but didn’t you say that you used to be a big blogger? So why didn’t you attempt to do the same? (As if! it would only work if they assumed so). But honestly, you don’t sound like someone who is educated on the law, you sound like those desperate anons in bloggers inboxes asking bloggers to manifest for them. Because why is that the point you used? To manifest for followers? Were you…one of those…followers? Talk about holding a grudge. No wonder why you’re so mad. If I had a dime for how many times you got rejected i’d be a millionaire.

“Want to prove to your followers who are spiraling about the American election rather than post persist hehehee how about you manifest for them….. change the election revise life’s an illusion while you’re crying about having your rights taken away lol but you can’t.” - l.o.s.e.r

Run upper east siders, we’ve got an idiot on our hands. Making a point on something completely false. If you really understood the law, you’d know that you can’t manipulate somebody else’s reality, unless they assume you can. But it’s not to my surprise that you didn’t know that, of all people. Last time I checked, it’s YOUR imagination, and nobody else’s. So WHY would YOUR 3D reflect THEIR imagination? And you claim to be a blogger educated on the law…quite a “big” one too. I cant name any “big” bloggers who’ve misinformed the law THAT bad. Talk about liars now…

At this point, it’s PAINFULLY obvious that you were one of those anons begging bloggers to manifest for you. Because you’re SO mad that bloggers don’t do that for people. They can’t really because it depends on your assumption. I’m not even making an invalid point here. It’s just so obvious. “Want to prove to your followers.” “how about you manifest for them” 😭 I’m literally in tears because of how funny this is. I’m sorry that no blogger has proven it to you or manifested “for you”, and you’ve carried that hatred with you and projected it onto the whole loa community. And the only reason you continue to believe that the law of assumption is real (rightfully so) is because you know that there’s way too much proof of it to even attempt to dismiss it without looking like a fool. And maybe a fraction of that belief comes from your hope, because without the law, everything you’d ever hoped for would be out the window.

In short, you make points about “why don’t you manifest for your followers 🥺” Well, I don’t know if you knew this but…there’s this concept called free will. And just because someone chooses to not do something, doesn’t mean they can’t. Is common sense just not part of the package for you? It seems the point flies right over your head faster than you can catch it, and the only thing that doesn’t land, are your “points”.

But if you still don’t understand me, let’s use a little bit of your so -called logic here.

‘Loa is real manifesting is real shifting is real but most people in this community lie and are culty 99.999% of the stories here are lies the people doing that shit don’t even post abt it probably think they’re in some dream most of the success here are creative writing and living in the end.” - l.o.s.e.r

From YOUR logic, couldn’t I just ask you to manifest that the liars don’t exist and that you no longer view the law of assumption as a cult? So why haven’t you…? You’ll ask anyone questions but yourself. And if they think it was a dream…then how did they send their success stories to bloggers? Did I miss an update because last time I checked, you can’t do that in a dream. See, your points are fuelled by complete hatred, not logic. You truly don’t believe what you’re telling yourself and others. Embarrassing.

And don’t get me started on how statistically IMPOSSIBLE that is. Do I even have to explain why? I promise you, thousands of people are NOT lying for the pure fun of it. That’s just not how the human mind works. Wouldn’t they rather shit on loa just like you rather than posting success stories hoping it’ll happen?I didn’t know talking out of the wrong hole was in fashion these days. But then again, not everyone has style. And if there’s one thing money can’t buy, it’s class. Was that a moth? Must’ve flewn right out of your wallet.

Now don’t get me wrong, i’m not bothered to read your whole blog and all the nonsense you cry about and debunk every little thing you say. Because trust me, common sense does the job for me.

Have fun continuing to “preach” your delusional idea of the law being a cult to yourself and your little followers. Like sheep. One after the other.

Don’t even think about trying to respond to me, as if anything you say makes sense.

P.S. I’ll delete this post later, I don’t like having drama on my blog. This is my first and last time addressing you. I just don’t want people in this community, including my lovely upper east siders to listen to idiots like you telling them that all the success stories they’ve read are fake, when that is so obviously not true. Only someone who hasn’t consciously the experienced the law for themselves would doubt others so badly, and you used to be a “big” blogger you say…The fucking audacity. But then again, it’s hard to believe in something you haven’t experienced for yourself (is it?), but at-least don’t get caught in a lie. Disrespectfully, shut your mouth and don’t open it again.

- gossip girl

[hemipenal-system]

so i got a really good clarifying question on this and he said i could answer it in here

there isn’t anything wrong with not liking dick or vag or anything. its obviously kinda ridiculous to expect someone to do something in bed they’re uncomfortable with

the problem here isn’t having a genital preference, it’s that these people don’t really have one, they just know they can’t say they don’t want to fuck trans women - 99% of these people wouldn’t fuck a neopussied tgirl either! (or trans men as the case may be) never mind the fact that there are six hundred ways to fuck someone without looking at or touching it if you legitimately aren’t comfortable with that

we’ve put this ridiculous social stigma around genitalia to the point where they’re treated differently than every other part of the body and i feel like thats half the problem here. “i’m not a huge fan of being penetrated, how can we work around that” or the like should be just as common a conversation as “oh i don’t really fw feet can we not do that”

thats what frustrates me here tbh. “oh i dont like dick” ok so dont use it

dawg i canNOT with cis lesbians sometimes. im on a forum and someone's like "ok but maybe talking about male genitalia makes a bunch of us uncomfortable" girl why are you talking about her dick? sex with a trans woman has nothing to do with her dick. you pet her hair and she makes some animal noises and then one of you holds a knife to the other's throat and then you snuggle for 5 hours straight

[moonselune]

Bg3 companions and a reader who is ridiculously into them? like can't be around them without blushing, stuttering over words, etc.

Love your writing ♥️♥️♥️

ahhhhh thank you so much, this was a pleasure to write !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

Breakfast in camp had become a small but daily ordeal. Sitting across from Karlach was as thrilling as it was nerve-wracking. She always looked so effortlessly radiant—her wide smile lighting up her face, her hair messy from sleep, and that laugh that came from deep within her chest. You, meanwhile, were a nervous mess, barely able to lift a spoon without fumbling it in her presence.

This morning, you were attempting to slice an apple while also trying to sneak glances at her, as usual. But, distracted as you were, you barely noticed when she caught you looking. She grinned, that flash of teeth making your heart skip about five beats.

“Hey, you want some?” she asked, holding out a plate piled high with a variety of fresh fruits. You stammered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Uh—y-yes! I mean, no! I mean—” You fumbled for the right words, your voice a bit too loud in your panic. Karlach looked at you, mildly confused but amused.

“Alright then, you let me know if you change your mind,” she said, winking, before going back to her breakfast. The little wink nearly killed you on the spot, and you dropped your apple, which rolled dramatically across the table and plopped off the other side.

Wyll, sitting beside you, tried to hide a snicker behind his hand. He’d been noticing your flustered behavior around Karlach for days and had clearly reached his breaking point. As Karlach turned away, Wyll leaned in close to you, smirking.

“Oh, this is painful to watch,” he muttered, barely containing his laughter. “When are you going to do something about it?”

You gave him a quick, desperate glare, feeling the blood drain from your face.

“Do something?” you whispered, panic lacing your voice. “Wyll, I can’t even string a proper sentence together around her without sounding like a fool!”

Wyll rolled his eyes, still grinning.

“Trust me, I can see that,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “But if you keep this up, it’s going to get unbearable for both of us. You’re absolutely lovesick, and she’s completely oblivious.”

“Lovesick?” you whispered, trying to keep your voice low but also scandalized by the word. “That’s… that’s not…”

Wyll arched an eyebrow, giving you a pointed look that read, Really?

You sighed, knowing he was right. Every time Karlach entered the room, you either found an excuse to leave or wound up a blushing, stumbling mess. Just this morning, she’d brushed a crumb off your shoulder, and you had nearly collapsed on the spot.

Wyll laughed, patting you on the back a little harder than you would have liked. “Look, if you don’t do something soon, I will. Maybe I’ll tell her for you—‘oh, by the way, did you know you’ve got someone so smitten with you, they can’t even eat breakfast right?’”

Your eyes went wide. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow with challenge.

“Fine,” you whispered, heart racing at the thought of actually doing something about it. “What do I… say?”

Wyll shrugged, his expression softening a bit. “Just talk to her. Be honest. If there’s one thing Karlach respects, it’s bravery. And if there’s one thing she loves, it’s someone who cares as much as she does.”

But as you mulled it over, you looked across the table and saw Karlach laughing at something Astarion was saying, her eyes bright with amusement, her entire face aglow with the life and warmth she carried effortlessly. You swallowed, trying to imagine how you’d ever muster up the courage to tell her anything.

The rest of breakfast went by with your heart hammering and Wyll occasionally sending you smirking looks. You felt like you were on fire, thoughts racing as you considered his words.

Finally, as camp was beginning to break up and everyone was scattering to their daily tasks, you decided to follow Wyll’s advice. Taking a deep breath, you gathered every bit of courage you could find and made your way over to Karlach, who was busy folding up her bedroll. She looked up, surprised, as you approached.

“Oh, hey! Need something?” she asked, her grin warm as always.

You cleared your throat, feeling the words get caught. “I… um…”

Karlach tilted her head, watching you patiently. “Everything okay?”

And there it was, the opening. The chance to say something. Be brave, you reminded yourself. You took a deep breath and tried again.

“I just… wanted to say…” you stumbled, unable to look her in the eye. “I really… enjoy spending time with you.”

The corners of her mouth turned up in a soft smile, her eyes studying your face, but still, she seemed blissfully unaware. “Well, good! Same here! You’re a lot of fun, you know. Brave in your own way, even if a bit shy,” she teased lightly, giving your arm a light squeeze.

You couldn’t help but laugh nervously, feeling your cheeks burn. Maybe Wyll had a point—Karlach appreciated bravery, and here you were, looking like a fool again. But as her hand lingered just a moment longer on your arm, you felt a surge of determination. This was only the beginning.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

You’d found Minthara’s sword on the outskirts of camp that morning, half-buried beneath some tangled roots. It was unmistakably hers—dark metal with a wicked curve, and elegant engravings tracing the hilt. You’d only seen her use it from afar, but even then, there was something mesmerizing about the way she wielded it, about the way her gaze sharpened whenever she held a blade. You were already a bundle of nerves at the thought of returning it to her, and that only got worse the closer you got to her tent.

She was sharpening a dagger when you approached, her expression focused, so much so that for a moment, you thought about turning back. But then she noticed you, her eyes snapping up to meet yours with a glint of curiosity.

“You’re looking rather… tense.” Her eyebrow arched slightly as she took you in.

Your heart thudded painfully, and you swallowed, forcing yourself to hold up the sword without dropping it. “Uh, I… found this for you. Your sword, I mean. It was… um, outside camp, and I thought you might want it back?”

Her gaze softened, a small smirk playing on her lips as she reached for the sword, her fingers brushing against yours. You nearly jumped at the contact, face burning, feeling like you might explode from embarrassment. You tried to say something else, but the words came out as a strangled squeak, and you practically forced yourself to look at the ground to avoid those piercing eyes of hers.

“Hmm,” she murmured, glancing over the sword, and then back at you. “Thank you. It's… refreshing to see someone with a sense of respect.” She held your gaze for a moment longer, and then, with an amused nod, she went back to her sharpening.

You quickly walked away, all but stumbling as you escaped, only to find yourself practically nose-to-nose with Shadowheart, who looked far too amused.

"Gods above," she snorted, crossing her arms. "I've never seen someone turn so red while returning a weapon."

You stammered, looking anywhere but at her. "I was just… trying to be polite!"

"Polite? If that's your version of polite, then I’d hate to see you actually try flirting," she teased, unable to hide her grin.

“Oh, please,” you huffed, looking away and trying to calm the blush still heating your face. “It's just… I don’t know. I like her, alright? Even if she’s… well, she could probably kill me without a second thought.”

Shadowheart raised an eyebrow. "Good to know you’re aware. And yet you still act like a lovesick fool around her, it's almost like you want her to kill you."

“I would die happy!” you blurted out, throwing your hands up. “Minthara could do anything she wants to me—absolutely anything at all—and I’d thank her. She could stomp me into the dirt, call me a fool, hex me, curse me, make my life a living hell, and I'd still probably thank her with my last breath!”

Shadowheart laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "You’re hopeless."

But you were too caught up in your rant. "I’d let her do anything—anything at all! She could make me fetch her supplies every morning, have me clean her sword every night, stand guard for her at dawn and dusk, and I’d still think it was the best thing to ever happen to me!”

"Ahem."

You froze, mid-rant, and turned slowly to find Minthara standing directly behind you. She looked deeply amused, one eyebrow raised, her eyes glittering with dark humor. Her smirk was even more wicked than usual, and her gaze held you captive as she stepped closer.

“Good to know,” she said, her voice smooth and cool, her smirk only growing. “I may have to test that loyalty sometime.”

She winked at you, and then, just as easily as she’d come, she turned and sauntered away, leaving you standing there completely speechless, your face redder than ever.

Shadowheart burst out laughing, clutching her side as she watched you sway in shock. “You really have a gift for making a fool of yourself, you know that?”

You sank to your knees, stunned, still processing that Minthara had heard every single word. Shadowheart’s laughter rang in your ears, but you were simply too dazed to care. Perhaps that death would come quicker than expected - if your own heart didn't give out first.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

Every time Lae’zel looked your way, you felt like a live wire, a rush of heat filling your face. She seemed to command every space she entered, her presence sharp, unapologetic, and utterly captivating. But whenever you were around her, every sentence became a tangle of stammered nonsense, and all you could do was blush helplessly. Today was no different.

You were fumbling with your supplies near the fire when Lae’zel walked over, her gaze scrutinizing as always.

"You’ve been acting strange,” she declared, crossing her arms and eyeing you critically. “Weakness of any sort is unacceptable. Are you unwell?"

Her bluntness only made you more flustered, words tripping over each other as you tried to respond. "No, I… I mean, yes, but not in that way. I mean, I'm fine. Completely fine.”

Lae’zel’s eyes narrowed, unconvinced. “You are not fine. You stammer, you lose color and gain it again. See Halsin or Shadowheart—this weakness needs mending.”

Desperate to reassure her, you tried to explain further, but each attempt seemed to make it worse. “I’m not… it’s not that kind of weakness, I just—well, around you, I—uh…”

She fixed you with a glare, her frown deepening. "Enough. Your words make less sense with every second. Perhaps you’re more ill than you realize.”

Your cheeks burned as she turned sharply to fetch Halsin, all but barking his name across camp. He arrived quickly, taking in the scene with a look of amused understanding.

“She is in poor health,” she said, gesturing at you. “They are losing control over their words and show clear signs of a fever. You will attend to them.”

Halsin’s brows lifted slightly, and with a knowing look, he glanced from you to Lae’zel. He gave a slow, considering nod. “Yes, I believe I see the trouble. An ailment, certainly… though it appears to be more of the heart than of the body.”

Lae’zel scowled, gripping her weapon as if ready for battle. “Explain this ‘heart ailment.’ What creature has inflicted it upon them?”

Halsin chuckled softly. “They’ve been bitten by a lovebug, Lae’zel. That’s all.”

Lae'zel let out a string of sharp Gith curses, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "A lovebug. Where does it lurk, this creature? If it is preying upon our camp, I’ll hunt it down myself and crush it beneath my blade."

Her fierce determination, though absurd, only made your heart race more. Halsin stifled a laugh, giving you a sidelong look of utter amusement.

“I think you’ll find that hunting it will be… difficult,” he said, barely hiding his grin. “The lovebug often prefers stealth, hiding within feelings rather than form.”

“Feelings, a psychic offender,” she repeated, her brow creasing in thought. After a moment, she nodded decisively. “It is trickier prey, then. But I will find it nonetheless.”

And with that, she strode off, muttering to herself about unknown threats to the camp. As soon as she was out of earshot, Halsin let out a laugh, clapping you on the shoulder. “You know, I think you may have just made a miraculous recovery.”

You let out a groan, pressing a hand to your flushed face. “Do you think she’ll ever realize?”

“Not any time soon, I’d wager,” he chuckled. “But watching her hunt for a creature that doesn’t exist… that’s something we’ll all enjoy.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

Shadowheart’s approach had been so unassuming, yet it immediately set your heart racing. You’d been minding your own business by the campfire, trying not to glance her way too much, when she’d walked over, looking perfectly calm and utterly oblivious to the effect she had on you. She needed help with a spell—one that apparently you could explain better than anyone else at camp. You tried to play it cool, managing a quick, slightly-too-high “Sure!” and hoping your pulse wasn’t visibly hammering in your throat.

Standing beside her, you began explaining the spell, hands trembling ever so slightly as you demonstrated the incantation.

“So…uh…you’ll want to focus your energy here, at the core…” you muttered, gesturing to the focus stone. You held it out for her to see, only to have her fingers brush yours, sending a jolt through you that nearly made you drop the thing.

“Like this?” Shadowheart asked, her gaze flicking up to meet yours. Her dark eyes held that same thoughtful curiosity, and your voice caught in your throat. It was hard enough trying to form sentences with her this close, let alone explain a complex spell.

“Y-yes. Like that,” you managed, each word coming out slightly unsteady. “And, uh, then you just…channel it gently, but with intention.” She tilted her head, leaning closer, following along with perfect focus.

Meanwhile, just behind her, Karlach was all but dying, barely containing her laughter as she watched you fumble. Her amusement was clearly at your expense, and it took every ounce of willpower not to glare at her. Your attention drifted back to Shadowheart just as she turned her attention to the final gesture of the spell.

Her hand rested over yours for a second too long, her voice soft as she asked, “Does this look right?”

You nodded dumbly, your brain too overloaded to form a coherent reply, and somehow muttered, “It’s, uh…very…graceful.” Internally, you cringed. Graceful?

Shadowheart, apparently too engrossed in the spell to notice your red cheeks, gave a small, content nod. She released your hand, oblivious to the way you quickly hid your trembling fingers.

“Thank you,” she said with a rare smile, her voice calm and warm. “I think I understand it now.”

She turned to leave, casting one last glance over her shoulder, which made you feel simultaneously light-headed and weak in the knees. You stared after her, still processing, trying to shake off the ridiculous butterflies. You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until she was already out of earshot.

The second she was gone, Karlach burst out laughing, dropping her head back in utter delight.

“Gods! If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were spellbound yourself,” she teased, unable to wipe the grin off her face. “That was one of the best things I’ve ever seen. Hopeless,” she declared, shaking her head at you with a mischievous gleam.

Heat flooded your face all over again as you groaned, rubbing the back of your neck.

“I know, okay? It’s…utterly hopeless,” you admitted, voice thick with defeat. Before you could second-guess yourself, you grabbed her mug of beer straight from her hand and downed it in a few quick gulps, hoping it would somehow wash away the mortification you felt. Setting the empty mug down, you sighed deeply. “She didn’t even notice anything.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re very, very wrong,” Karlach countered, her smile twisting into something sly and secretive. She crossed her arms, leaning in as if sharing a precious secret. “Because she was definitely checking you out while you were showing her that spell.”

You froze, turning slowly to look at her, heart skipping a beat.

“You’re joking,” you muttered, voice barely above a whisper. There was a spark of hope, ridiculous but undeniable, blooming somewhere deep in your chest.

Karlach grinned wider, shaking her head. “Oh, no. She was stealing glances at you the entire time,” she said, sounding far too pleased with herself. “She’d peek up at you just when you weren’t looking, trying to act all serious, but she couldn’t quite pull it off. You might be as oblivious, but I’ve got eyes.” She winked, patting your shoulder in encouragement.

Your mind raced, playing the whole interaction back. You remembered how Shadowheart’s gaze had lingered, her voice soft, her questions coming slower, almost careful… Could Karlach really be right? Was it possible that Shadowheart had actually been…interested?

“Maybe there’s hope after all…” you mumbled, feeling that glimmer of excitement grow.

Karlach clapped you on the back with a laugh, nearly knocking the air out of you. “There you go! Just keep stuttering and blushing—seems to be working like a charm.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Guess I’ll just have to keep embarrassing myself, then,” you said, grinning despite yourself.

Karlach’s laughter echoed across the camp, but her eyes held a genuine warmth as she said, “Well at least it’s a start. You’ll get there.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

Jaheira's gaze was focused, unrelenting as she adjusted your grip on the scimitar. Her hands, warm and confident, guided yours over the hilt, showing you the correct angle, the precise strength you should use. Every time her hand brushed yours, you felt your heart stammer. You hoped she didn’t notice your flushed cheeks or the way your breath caught every time she leaned closer.

“Here,” she said, her voice calm but commanding. She moved to your side, adjusting the angle of your stance with the barest brush of her hand along your back. “It’s not about brute force,” she murmured, her voice so close it felt like a whisper. “It’s about control, understanding where the balance lies in every movement.”

You nodded, barely able to find your voice, managing only a stuttered, “Y-yes, of course.” But you were far more focused on her proximity than any of her advice.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Astarion lounging a few paces away, arms crossed and a devilish grin spreading across his face. He had noticed, of course—there was no hiding it from his all-too-keen gaze. Before you could silently beg him to go easy on you, he stepped closer, feigning a helpful tone.

“Stick your rear out more,” he suggested, his voice laced with amusement. “Helps with balance. And I’m sure Jaheira would agree.” He flashed you a wicked grin, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

Your face flamed, and you shot him a withering look.

“Thanks, Astarion,” you muttered under your breath, attempting to ignore him. But his smirk only widened, and he continued to watch, pleased with himself.

Jaheira, still adjusting your stance, gave you a quick nod, oblivious to your flustered state and Astarion’s antics.

“There you go,” she said, stepping back just enough to observe your form. “Much better.” She gave a satisfied nod and went on to demonstrate a quick series of strikes, her movements fluid and sure, each slash a picture of precision and elegance.

You could barely pay attention, completely distracted by the grace with which she wielded her weapon, the easy strength in her every move. As she looked back at you, catching you gawking, you fumbled to regain focus.

“Uh—yes! Right, like that!” you stammered, hurriedly attempting to mimic her motions.

Jaheira gave a small, amused smile before nodding approvingly. “Keep practicing that sequence. It’ll help build your control.”

As she left the clearing, giving you one last nod of encouragement, you could hardly breathe. You waited until she was out of sight before collapsing against Astarion, running a hand through your hair with a groan.

“I’m hopeless,” you muttered, shaking your head. “She probably thinks I’m a complete mess.”

“Oh, she definitely does,” Astarion said, his grin impossibly smug as he gave you a playful shove. “But she won’t have to wonder about it for long.”

You shot him a look, eyebrow raised in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

Astarion’s smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I may have left your journal in her tent. You know, the one with the little poems in the margins?” He waggled his eyebrows, feigning innocence.

Your eyes went wide, horror settling over you as you gaped at him.

“You didn’t,” you whispered, dread turning your stomach. The journal held every embarrassing thought, every scribbled confession, every starry-eyed rant about Jaheira that you hadn’t dared speak aloud.

“Oh, but I did.” Astarion’s voice was light, mocking even, but his eyes held a teasing warmth. “Look on the bright side. At least now she’ll know how much you ‘admire her scimitar technique.’ among other things..”

You shrieked in exasperation, though a traitorous part of you couldn’t help but feel the faintest spark of excitement at the idea. You shoved Astarion, who merely laughed, delighted with himself, as you stood there in helpless anticipation, wondering how you’d ever face Jaheira again.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

Trying to stay composed around Gale was becoming increasingly impossible. You could barely string together a coherent sentence whenever he was nearby, your cheeks burning and your heart racing so loudly you were sure he could hear it. It had gotten to the point that, during one of his magic lessons, you’d accidentally projected a very vivid thought about kissing him far into the Weave—and while he hadn’t directly addressed it, you had felt your face go scarlet the moment it happened.

Yet, despite that blunder and all your clumsy attempts to communicate the depths of your affection, Gale remained completely oblivious. And this state of suspended longing, this fruitless crush, was starting to drive you mad.

After another awkward lesson with Gale where you stumbled over your words and blushed at the mere brush of his hand over yours, you found yourself venting to Minthara, though you knew her to be an unlikely confidante. Her eyes held little sympathy, her arms crossed as she gave you a hard, skeptical look.

“Just grab the wizard and use him for your pleasure,” she suggested bluntly, as if it were the obvious solution. Her gaze was sharp and impatient. “You’re a warrior, not a blubbering fool.”

You shook your head quickly, horrified. “No, no, it’s not like that! I don’t just want him in some shallow way.” You sighed, your heart feeling tight. “I want to… to adore him. To look after him. To treasure everything about him, every small thing, every story he tells and every spell he casts. I want to worship him like he deserves.” You leaned into your words, almost forgetting who you were talking to in the rapture of your lovesick confession. “I want to make him feel like he’s the most cherished person in the world.”

Minthara recoiled as if you’d offended her sensibilities with such sentimentality, looking visibly revolted by your romantic ramblings. Her lips curled in distaste.

“By the darkness, are you even listening to yourself?” She gave an exasperated huff, then, with a roll of her eyes, she called across the camp, her voice clear as a bell. “Wizard!” she yelled, her tone commanding and fierce. “They want to go on their knees for you—are you going to do something about it, or will I have to rip out their tongue to stop their endless lovesick whining?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach, and before you could process the horror, Gale turned, an expression of curiosity mixed with surprise crossing his face as he started to walk over. You immediately whacked Minthara on the arm, panic rising as you whispered, “What are you doing?!”

Minthara looked at you with a smug indifference, ignoring your frantic scolding as if she’d done you the greatest favor.

“A strange way to show your gratitude,” she remarked drily, “given how much assistance I just rendered.”

By then, Gale had reached you both, his brows lifted in confusion, a hint of pink on his cheeks.

“What’s all this about… someone going on their knees?” he asked, looking between you and Minthara, though his gaze lingered on you. His voice was gentle, though you could see the glimmer of curiosity—and something else—in his eyes.

You shot Minthara a glare, your face flaming, then took a steadying breath, turning to Gale.

“I—um,” you stammered, realizing there was no dignified way to explain this away. “I think… what Minthara was so eloquently trying to say is that I… might, uh, harbor feelings for you.” You paused, swallowing. “Quite a few of them, actually.”

Gale’s face softened, and a warm smile played at his lips, his hand reaching to touch yours with a tenderness that made your heart flutter.

“Well,” he murmured, his voice dipping low, “it’s wonderful to know I’m not the only one who’s felt that spark.”

Minthara turned away, clearly satisfied, muttering something about lesser beings and their foolish emotions, but you hardly noticed her departure as your heart beat out of your touch, your greatest fantasies finally coming true.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

Dinner had been an ordeal. Astarion sat beside you, closer than usual, his presence a tangible, almost overwhelming warmth. Every time he reached for something or murmured a comment, you felt yourself freeze, stumbling over your responses, blushing so furiously you’d started to worry it was noticeable. You could barely bring yourself to eat, much less speak, and by the end of the meal, you were sure you’d only embarrassed yourself.

That might have been manageable if it ended there. But just hours later, as the party approached a fortress with heavy guards stationed at the gates, Astarion took the lead, slipping into his charming, roguish element. He approached the security with a smooth, confident swagger, flashing that insouciant smile of his, every word a practiced melody of flattery and wit. He left them captivated, helpless to deny him as he led the party in with ease, his charm so intoxicating it almost felt like magic.

And while the others chuckled at his skillful maneuvering, you felt an unexpected ache in your chest. Watching him sway them so effortlessly stirred a pang of jealousy you hadn’t expected. Did he even notice the way you pined for him? The way every stray touch or knowing look from him seemed to linger long after he’d moved on?

Caught in your thoughts, you didn’t realize Gale was watching you with a raised brow. He leaned over, studying your expression with mild amusement and maybe a bit of pity.

“You look,” he began in a soft murmur, “like someone just killed a displacer kitten right in front of you.”

Startled, you forced a tight smile, trying to wave him off. “It’s nothing, Gale.”

“Nothing?” He crossed his arms, unimpressed. “Please, you’ve been fawning over Astarion for ages now, your heart practically on display.”

There was a pause as you grappled with the admission, your face heating up, but at last, the dam broke, and you began to pour out your feelings in a quiet, hushed ramble.

“It’s just… my heart beats for him, Gale. Every time he speaks, I hang on his every word. I want nothing more than to just reach over, brush his hair back, and listen to him talk about all his little grievances—his so-called ‘inconveniences,’ his charms, all of it.”

Gale nodded, looking thoughtful for a moment. And then his lips curled into a wry smile as he leaned in conspiratorially. “Well, I suppose your dilemma is solved, then.”

Confused, you blinked, feeling a twist of dread. “What do you mean?”

“Oh,” he said, chuckling, “just that you happened to be projecting that over the tadpole connection. Quite eloquently, I might add. The entire party heard every word by my predictions.”

You froze, horror dawning as you processed what Gale had just said. Every word, you realized, echoing faintly through the magical thread you shared. You dared a glance at the others, only to see Karlach giving you an encouraging thumbs-up and Shadowheart hiding a smirk behind her hand.

Then, to your ultimate mortification, Astarion strolled past, pausing just long enough to catch your eye. A sly grin played on his lips as he gave you a long, lingering look, his gaze glinting with amusement.

“Not to worry, darling,” he murmured, a teasing warmth in his voice, “I have plenty of inconveniences—and a few conveniences—to tell you all about. Shall we start tonight?”

His words sent a rush of heat up your spine, leaving you speechless as he gave a little wave, disappearing down the hallway. Gale patted your shoulder with a grin.

“See?” he said cheerfully. “All handled.”

You were left rooted to the spot, barely able to breathe, knowing that somehow you’d been caught, exposed—and that Astarion was, indeed, fully aware of the fact that your heart belonged to him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

Wyll’s presence seemed to have a gravitational pull all its own. Every time he smiled at you, every chivalrous gesture—offering his hand to help you up a steep path, or casually brushing a stray lock of hair out of your face—felt like a dream. A warmth filled your chest, so intense you could hardly look him in the eye, your words dissolving into stammered half-thoughts that trailed into silence. Each interaction left you breathless, embarrassed, and wondering if maybe, just maybe, he noticed how flustered he made you.

Training, however, was another story. Lae’zel was as intense as ever, barely giving you time to catch your breath between strikes. She was quick, sharp, and relentless, and it would have been more manageable—if you could actually focus. But each time she demanded your attention, your eyes kept wandering back to Wyll, who was a few feet away, talking to Shadowheart as he polished his sword. The way he moved, the way he spoke, that disarmingly warm smile…

It was only a matter of time before Lae'zel had enough.

She stepped back, arms crossed, leveling you with a look that could freeze lava.

“You’re distracted. Useless,” she declared, throwing down her sword with an exasperated sigh. “You pine like a hatchling, and it disrupts our sparring.”

You flushed, scrambling to come up with an excuse, but Lae’zel was already stomping off toward Wyll. You moved to intercept her, knowing she was the absolute last person who should reveal any of this. “Wait—Lae’zel, don’t!”

Lae’zel ignored you, her voice booming as she closed in on a bewildered Wyll.

“You,” she pointed at him, “this one wants to share their body with you.”

Wyll blinked, his eyes widening as he looked between you and Lae’zel, clearly trying to make sense of what she’d just said.

“I—what?” He looked at you, a blush rising to his cheeks as he fumbled for words. “I mean, I didn’t—wasn’t aware—”

Mortified, you didn’t think, you just acted, flinging yourself at Lae’zel with a force you hadn’t known you possessed. You tackled her to the ground, landing with a clumsy thud, and slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Not…what I meant!” you stammered, trying to laugh it off to Wyll, who was still looking down at the both of you in complete bafflement. “What she means is—uh, we’re just, um, sparring partners! She’s…dramatic.”

Lae’zel raised an eyebrow, and with her typical stoicism, she bit down—hard—on the hand you’d used to cover her mouth. You yelped, jerking your hand back, and Lae’zel smirked, a silent satisfaction in her gaze as she sat up, looking entirely unapologetic.

Wyll was still staring, one eyebrow raised, lips quirking slightly in what looked like a restrained grin.

“I’m… not entirely sure I understand what’s going on here,” he said, his eyes bright with amusement. “But whatever it is, I’m flattered.”

You scrambled to your feet, rubbing your bitten hand, and tried to put together a coherent explanation, but every time you met his gaze, words seemed to fail you.

“Well… right,” you mumbled, feeling heat rise to your face as you threw a quick glare at Lae’zel, who simply shrugged, as if completely innocent of any wrongdoing.

Wyll’s expression softened as he watched you struggle to speak, and he smiled gently.

“It’s alright,” he said, stepping closer. “I didn’t mean to make things difficult for you and Lae'zel.”

That simple gesture—his kindness, the warmth in his voice—made you feel as if you’d forgotten how to breathe. You managed a nod, barely holding onto your composure, while he looked at you with that disarming sincerity that always left you reeling.

Lae’zel, watching the exchange with an air of smug victory, dusted herself off. “There. See? Problem solved. Now maybe you’ll stop sparring like a weakling.”

You shot her a glare, but Wyll chuckled softly, meeting your eyes with a spark of curiosity.

“If you ever want to train together,” he said, his voice low and warm, “you need only ask.”

And with that, he gave you a wink, leaving you in a breathless, heart-pounding daze as he walked back to his gear.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

Every time you were around Halsin, it was like the ground slipped out from beneath you. His voice, that low, warm rumble, made your heart pound, and every casual touch seemed to ignite sparks across your skin. He was utterly unaware, of course; his gentle smiles and steady hands never betrayed a hint of understanding that he sent you reeling. You were sure that was the only reason you hadn’t completely given yourself away.

So when you returned to camp with an injury—a jagged cut on your arm from a goblin's arrow—you hoped it might go unnoticed. Shadowheart was busy, deep in her meditation as she restored her energy, and you thought you could handle the wound alone. But Jaheira spotted the blood trailing down your arm almost immediately. She arched a brow, her eyes flashing with a mix of annoyance and amusement as she approached.

“Let’s have a look,” she said, but as she examined your arm, she shook her head with a soft sigh. “This needs a proper healer. Come on.”

Before you could protest, she’d already begun steering you toward Halsin’s corner of camp. Your heart dropped to your stomach, and a familiar warmth crept up your face. “Jaheira, no, really, I’m fine. It’s not even that deep. You could probably just—”

“Are you afraid of a little attention from the First Druid?” she teased, smirking as you stammered. “If you’re so sure you can handle it alone, why is your face turning as red as a blood hawk?”

You barely managed a protest before she’d called out to Halsin, who looked up from his work, his eyes sharpening with concern the moment he saw the blood seeping through your sleeve.

“Come here,” he said, his voice a blend of calm authority and quiet worry. He rose to meet you, his eyes never leaving the wound as he reached out, guiding you to sit down on a low stool beside him. His hands were warm, gentle but firm, and you felt heat flush up your neck and into your cheeks as he examined the wound.

Jaheira, leaning against a tent post with her arms crossed, watched the scene unfold with an amused glint in her eyes, a smile curving her lips as you struggled to steady your breathing. But Halsin didn’t notice; his focus was fully on your arm, his brow furrowed with concentration as his fingers brushed softly along the edges of the wound, checking its depth.

“It isn’t too deep,” he murmured in his gentle, rumbling voice. “But we don’t want to risk infection. I’ll clean it and make a poultice to help it heal.”

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure, but the feeling of his hands—steady, reassuring, and just a little too close—sent your mind reeling. “Y-yes, of course. Whatever you think is best.”

Halsin gave you a soft smile, the kind that seemed to reach into your chest and make your heart skip.

“Are you feeling alright otherwise? You look a bit flushed.” His eyes studied your face, brow creased in genuine concern. “Are you feverish?”

You blinked, thrown off by the question, and felt your face grow impossibly hotter. “No! No, not at all. I’m… I’m perfectly fine. Really. Just, um… It’s just… the wound.”

Jaheira couldn’t contain her amusement any longer; she snorted softly and rolled her eyes, muttering, “It’s certainly not the wound that has you blushing.”

You shot her a quick, desperate glare, but she only smirked, clearly enjoying your struggle.

“A shame that our healer here clearly can’t see that particular ailment,” she added, just loud enough for you to hear.

Halsin looked between you and Jaheira, a slight confusion flickering in his eyes before he turned back to you with a gentle, almost affectionate smile. “Well, you should rest nonetheless. Even a small wound can bring on a fever if not treated with care.”

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his thumb tracing light circles just above your collarbone as if to soothe you. It was a simple, instinctive gesture, but it sent a wave of warmth through you, and you fought the urge to lean into his touch, to linger in the quiet strength he offered.

“Let me just…” His voice was soft, his attention focused on preparing the poultice as he worked with deft hands. But every so often, he’d glance up, catching your gaze with that calm, reassuring smile that made your heart race all over again.

Beside you, Jaheira leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper. “He truly has no idea, does he?”

You felt a flicker of panic, but there was no use hiding it now. You muttered, barely audible, “Not the faintest clue.”

She chuckled, shaking her head with a mix of sympathy and sarcasm. “To be fair, you’re not making it particularly obvious.”

Before you could retort, Halsin returned with the poultice, carefully applying it to your wound with practiced gentleness. The sensation of his fingers brushing against your skin, his hands steady and warm, sent another wave of nervous energy through you. He worked in silence for a moment, his gaze focused, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

“There,” he said softly, finishing the bandage. “That should hold for now. And I’ll make more of the poultice tonight to ensure it heals properly.”

You managed a shaky nod, trying to form words but only managing a faint, “Th-thank you.”

Halsin’s smile deepened, and he placed a final, reassuring hand on your arm. “It’s my pleasure to help. But if you do start feeling feverish, promise you’ll come to me immediately.”

“Yes. Of course,” you stammered, hardly able to meet his gaze. Jaheira watched you, her smile widening as she shook her head in mock exasperation.

“I think it’s safe to say you’re sick with something,” she muttered, just loud enough for Halsin to hear.

Halsin’s brow furrowed in mild concern, and he tilted his head toward her, curious. “Sick with what, precisely?”

You shot Jaheira a desperate look, but she only shrugged, that teasing glint in her eye.

“Nothing a nice cold dip in the river can't fix.,” she said, her voice laced with amusement as she turned to walk away, leaving you to face Halsin’s warm, questioning gaze.

“If you’re certain you’re well…” he said, his thumb brushing lightly along your hand in a final gesture of reassurance before he let go. “But do take it easy tonight. I’ll check in on you later, just to be sure.”

As he stood and walked away, you sat there, still reeling, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin. You wanted to stay in that moment forever. Perhaps during his check in later, you would actually do something about it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was actually so cute to write aha, I hope you guys enjoyed this ! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

Check out my redbubble shop here !

[bucktommyscones]

Post 8x5 fic because Lou said so. (Not really, but kind of.) This got a little hornier than I'm sure we would have gotten, but you know, when in Rome. Also, isn't it great how the season ended with this ep? What an awfully short season. Oh well.

"No."

Tommy can't see him from where he's navigating them back to Evan's place, but he just knows he's pouting. After nearly six months, his Evan senses are always tingling.

"Oh come on," Evan whines. "Just pull over into an overlook or something. Bet I can get you off in no time."

Tommy snorts a laugh. "I'm sorry, is that supposed to make me want to do it? I thought you had a better sense of my abilities than that, Boil Boy."

Evan considers this and Tommy can see his grin out of his peripheral vision. He should look ridiculous with those damn things on his face, but he looks like an adorable brat, which is as per usual these days.

"Okay, that didn't come out right."

"No one's coming any time soon," Tommy says, turning on his signal to change lanes.

Evan snickers. "Fine, fine. No public sex for us. I get it. Can I get you out of that suit and get your dick in my mouth when we get to my place?"

Tommy reaches over and pinches his thigh, gratified when Evan jumps a little.

"Hey! Rude."

"Why are you so horny all of a sudden?"

"All of a sudden? I thought you knew me by now, Tommy."

Tommy laughs again. "Okay, okay."

"Besides," Evan says, and if Tommy isn't mistaken, his voice sounds...hesitant? "I just want to thank you. You know, for driving three hours from home to go to a dead outlaw's funeral."

Tommy feels himself melt. "You don't have to thank me. I enjoyed it."

"You did?" Evan sounds surprised.

"Seeing you in your element all cute and earnest? Getting to spend time with you? I'll do it any time."

Evan runs a hand through the hair on the back of Tommy's head, affectionate and warm. He loves it when Evan does that.

"How can you possibly think I'm cute right now?" Evan wonders and this is not the first time he's asked.

"I always think you're cute. Even when you're gross."

Evan's laugh is infectious and Tommy laughs with him. He leans forward in his seat and smacks a kiss to Tommy's cheek. "I like you, Tommy Kinard."

"I like you too, Evan Buckley," Tommy says. "Chinese on the way home?"

"Sounds good," Evan confirms. "Wanna make out on the couch and watch a movie? Then I can get your dick in my mouth?"

Tommy grins because watching a movie always turns into something else. "You're on."

tag list:

@desert--moonchild @sazzynatural, @multishippinghussy, @mmso-notlikethat, @esendoran

@sunnywithachanceofbi, @sleepywinchesters, @buck-up-buckley, @manifestingchaoticvibes, @corvid-cryptidd

@lbltpsmspenguin, @theotherbuckley, @cliophilyra, @actuallyitsellie, @thecarrott

@talktonytome, @misstommykinard, @the-omniscient-narrator, @bobbinsnash, @a-mel0n

@hyperfocusthusly, @mayorjack, @marvelousbuckley, @swagmaster9k

@byunbuckjunmy, @rutathenurse, @sluttytommykinard, @bidisasterevankinard

[d-z20]

The Agent Next Door part 3 (NSFW)

Pairing: Agent Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: When a ghost from Rio's past resurfaces, the safe haven you’ve built together is threatened. As danger edges closer, your bond deepens in unexpected ways, testing your trust and strength in each other. Amidst fear and uncertainty, you discover just how far both of you are willing to go to protect what matters most.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, smut, fluff ending, fingering (R recv), oral (Rio recv), praise kink, slight power bottom Rio

Words: 4.2k

A/N: The angsty third (and final?) part as promised

AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Master List

Under Her Protection

You’re sprawled out on Rio’s couch, nestled comfortably against her side as the TV plays in the background. It’s the kind of night you’ve both come to love—no plans, no rush, just the two of you together, half-watching some crime drama. You can feel the steady rise and fall of her chest as you rest your head there, her arm slung casually around your shoulders, fingers absently tracing patterns on your arm.

It’s a rare, peaceful moment, one that you’ve started to cherish more and more. You glance up at her; she looks different like this—softer. The usual tension in her jaw has melted away; her sharp features relaxed in a way you rarely get to see. You smile to yourself, the sight of her at ease filling you with a quiet kind of joy. She’s not just the composed, authoritative FBI agent you first met. Here, she’s Rio—your Rio—and you could watch her like this forever.

You press a kiss to her jaw, feeling her smile against your lips.

“Enjoying the show?” she asks, her voice teasing. You know she couldn’t care less about what’s on the screen, but it’s a running joke between the two of you—mocking the exaggerated, overly dramatic FBI agents depicted on TV.

“Oh, absolutely,” you drawl, playing along. “I just love how accurate it all is. Clearly, every case is solved in a day, and all agents wear heels and leather jackets.”

Rio chuckles, pulling you closer. “It’s ridiculous,” she snorts. “Half of this would get thrown out in court in a heartbeat. And don’t even get me started on the ‘enhance the grainy footage’ bullshit.”

You grin, enjoying the rare, playful side of her. “I bet you’d never pull a stunt like that. The great Agent Vidal would never dream of cutting corners.”

She raises an eyebrow, her smirk sharp. “Oh, you’d be surprised what I’ve pulled off. Sometimes rules are more like... guidelines.”

You laugh, leaning into her, and she squeezes your shoulder lightly. For a moment, everything feels easy—peaceful.

Then her phone buzzes, cutting through the quiet. She lets out a small sigh and picks it up, her expression immediately shifting as she reads the message. The shift is so sudden it makes your stomach drop. Without a word, she gets up and walks to the window, peering through the blinds like she’s expecting to see something—or someone—out there.

“Rio?” You ask cautiously, sitting up. “What’s wrong?”

She doesn’t answer right away, her shoulders visibly tense. Finally, she lets the blinds fall back into place and turns to you, her expression grim. “That was work,” she says, her voice low and controlled. “Someone I put away years ago just got released on parole. He... wasn’t supposed to get out this soon.”

You frown, confused. “Why is that a problem? Didn’t he serve his time?”

Her jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think she won’t answer. Then she sighs, running a hand through her hair. “The last time I saw him, he threatened to ruin my life,” she says quietly. “He’s dangerous. And vindictive. If he finds out where I live... who you are... how much I lov—.”

She doesn’t finish the sentence, but she doesn’t have to. The implications hang heavy in the air. You swallow hard, suddenly very aware of the weight of her job and the risks that come with it.

“Hey,” you say softly, standing and moving to her side. “I’m sure it’s fine. He probably doesn’t even know you’re here.”

Her eyes meet yours, and for the first time since you met her, you see real fear there. “Maybe. But I can’t take that chance.” She pauses, her hand brushing your arm. “I want you to stay here. At least until I figure out what’s going on.”

The seriousness in her tone leaves no room for argument, and you nod. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

You settle back onto the couch together, but the atmosphere has shifted now, an unspoken tension lingering in the room. Rio keeps her phone close, her other arm wrapped protectively around you, her eyes flicking back to the window every so often.

You try to focus on the TV show, but your thoughts keep drifting. It’s unsettling, this shadow of a threat hanging over the two of you, and you can tell Rio feels it too. Her grip on you tightens every time she hears a noise from outside, her thumb rubbing circles against your arm as if she’s trying to soothe both of you.

Eventually, you turn your head to look up at her. “You know, I don’t need a TV show when I’ve got my own personal action hero right here.”

Rio snorts, shaking her head. “Is that what I am now?”

“Yep,” you say, grinning up at her. “Neighbour, fashion critic, and now... bodyguard.”

She rolls her eyes but leans down to press a kiss to your lips, soft and lingering. “Just stay close, okay?”

You nod, your heart fluttering at the protectiveness in her voice. “I’m not going anywhere, Rio.”

Relief flashes across her face, but it’s fleeting. She takes your hand, leading you to her bedroom without another word. The silence between you is heavy but not uncomfortable—it’s charged, humming with unspoken worry and a need for closeness.

When you get to the bed, her hands are on you immediately, tugging you close. There’s a new intensity to her touch, her fingers gripping your hips firmly, almost possessively. She kisses you hard, like she’s trying to stake her claim, her mouth moving with an urgency you’ve never felt from her before.

“Rio—” you start, but she cuts you off with another kiss, her hands sliding under your shirt, nails raking up your skin. Her lips move to your neck, sucking and biting hard enough to leave marks that you know will last. It’s not just passion—it’s something deeper, rawer. Like she needs to prove to herself that you’re here, that you’re hers.

You let her take the lead, your own hands roaming her body, trying to reassure her in your own way. But she’s relentless, her mouth trailing lower, her teeth grazing your collarbone. She pushes you back onto the bed, her weight settling over you as she pins your wrists above your head.

Her gaze is dark, her eyes searching yours. “I need to know you’re safe,” she murmurs, her voice rough. “I need to feel it.”

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper, and it’s the truth.

Her grip on your wrists tightens briefly before she leans down, kissing you again, slower this time but no less intense. 

The night is a blur of heated touches and whispered reassurances, her possessiveness never crossing the line into discomfort. Instead, it leaves you breathless, the depth of her need for you pulling you even closer.

When you finally fall asleep, tangled in her arms, the weight of her protectiveness wraps around you like a shield. Even as your mind drifts, you know this is only the beginning of whatever storm is coming. But with her by your side, you’re ready to face it.

—

You’ve been staying at Rio’s apartment for a week now, and every night, her hold on you seems to grow tighter. Even in her sleep, her arms remain locked around you, as though her subconscious refuses to let you out of her grasp. It’s a level of protectiveness you’re not used to, but you can’t deny how safe it makes you feel.

The days are a strange mix of normalcy and subtle unease. You run errands, cook together, and share quiet moments on her couch. But in the back of your mind, there’s always a faint sense of being watched. You’ve chalked it up to paranoia—Rio’s warning had a way of sticking with you, and you tell yourself you’re just imagining things.

Still, it’s hard to ignore the nagging feeling when you start seeing the same person more than once. A tall figure with a hood pulled low over their face, lingering at the edge of your vision. You’ve seen them on the street, at the corner store, and now again as you leave the grocery shop, arms full of bags. You glance over your shoulder, your pulse quickening as you catch sight of them just a few steps behind.

You quicken your pace, gripping the bags tightly. Your heart pounds in your chest as you cut across the street and head for the apartment building. You take a chance and glance back again. They’re still following.

By the time you reach Rio’s apartment door, your hands are shaking so badly you almost drop your keys. You fumble with the lock, finally getting the door open and slamming it shut behind you. You lock it, bolting the deadlock for good measure.

You text Rio immediately: I think I was followed. Just got back. Door locked.

The response comes quickly. Stay put. Don’t answer the door for anyone. I’m coming back now.

You breathe out, trying to calm yourself, but as you read her words, a new sound sends a chill down your spine. A faint rattle at the door.

Your stomach drops, and you freeze, staring at the door as the sound grows louder. It’s not your imagination. Someone’s trying the handle. Your mind races, and you grab the closest thing within reach—a table lamp. It’s not exactly a weapon, but it’ll have to do. Your grip tightens on the lamp’s base as the rattling stops, replaced by a loud bang.

The door crashes open, splintering the frame, and the hooded figure steps inside. They’re taller than you thought, their broad frame filling the doorway as they pause, scanning the room. You take a shaky step back, your heart pounding in your ears.

“Well, well,” he says, his voice dripping with malice. “Look who’s made themselves right at home. You must be the little pet she’s been keeping around.” 

Your mind races, and you instinctively take a step back, trying to put the kitchen island between you and him. “Who the hell are you?” you demand. 

He smirks, leaning against the doorframe. “You don’t know me, but Rio does. She’s the reason I spent the last ten years rotting away in a cell. Thought I’d pay her back by taking something she cares about.”

He lunges at you with a knife, and you barely manage to swing the lamp, hitting him across the face. He staggers back, but only for a moment, then charges at you again. You fight back, kicking and screaming, but he’s strong—stronger than you expected. He pins you against the wall, one hand around your throat. 

“That’s right, scream for her,” he growls. “Let’s see if she gets here in time.” 

You’re gasping for air, your vision blurring, when suddenly, the already broken door is rammed open again, falling off its hinges from the force of the action. 

Rio barges in, her gun drawn, her expression a mixture of fury and fear. “Let them go,” she says, her voice deadly calm, the kind that promises retribution. 

The man tightens his grip on you, pulling you in front of him as a shield. “Shoot me, and you’ll hit them,” he taunts. 

Rio’s eyes meet yours, and you can see the raw, helpless anger there. You’ve never seen her look so terrified.

The man tightens his grip on you, and your vision starts to black. Your pulse pounds in your ears, the lack of air making your limbs feel heavy. Rio stands frozen in the doorway, her gun unwavering, her eyes locked on the man holding you.

“Let them go,” Rio repeats, her voice low and seething with barely restrained fury.

The man smirks, his grip loosening just enough for you to gasp for air. “You really think you’ve got the upper hand here, bitch? You’re so predictable—always running to play the hero.”

Rio doesn’t flinch. “This is the last chance I’ll give you. Let. Them. Go. Now.”

He sneers, then suddenly shoves you away with all his strength. You stumble, hitting the edge of the kitchen counter hard before crumpling to the floor, pain flaring in your side. Rio’s shout of your name echoes through the room, but you can barely focus as you clutch at your ribs, trying to steady your breathing.

The distraction is all Rio needs. She lunges at him before he can turn back to her, knocking the knife from his hand as they crash to the floor. The struggle is brutal—a chaotic blur of punches and grunts as Rio fights with a ferocity you’ve never seen before.

He manages to pin her briefly, his hands going for her throat, but Rio uses the momentum to roll them over, her knee pressing into his chest. She grabs the cuff of his wrist and twists him onto his stomach, forcing him to let out a pained shout as she pins his arm behind his back.

“You should’ve let them go,” she growls, forcing his face against the floor. He thrashes beneath her, but her grip is unrelenting, her strength fuelled by sheer fury.

She pulls her cuffs from her belt, snapping them onto his wrists with a finality that fills the room. She grabs his hair and yanks his head up, knee still pressing into his back. “And now you’re going to pay,” she says coldly before smashing his face into the ground, breaking his nose, and knocking him unconscious.

Her eyes flick to you, her expression softening with worry. “Are you okay?”

Before you can answer, Rio pulls out her phone, calling for backup. Her voice is calm and clipped as she gives the necessary details, but her free hand remains clenched at her side, still shaking from the adrenaline.

When the call ends, she crouches next to you, her hands ghosting over your body, careful not to touch the areas where you’re clearly in pain. “Hey, let me see,” she murmurs, her tone gentle now. “Where are you hurt?”

You wince as you shift, trying to sit up. “Just... my side. Think I hit the counter pretty hard.”

Her jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think she might explode all over again—but she just exhales, brushing a hand over your hair. “Backup’s on the way. He’s not going anywhere. I promise you’re safe now.”

You nod weakly, and she leans closer, her forehead briefly touching yours. The tension in her body doesn’t ease until the distant wail of sirens signals that help has arrived. Even then, her focus stays on you, her protective presence a shield between you and the man who dared to threaten what she holds most dear.

With the chaos finally under control and the intruder hauled away in handcuffs, Rio keeps a steady arm around you as she guides you back across the hall to your apartment. You can still feel the tremors in your hands, the echo of fear and adrenaline in your veins, but her presence is grounding.

As the door closes behind you, she doesn’t let go. Instead, she leads you to the couch, sitting beside you with her arm securely around your shoulders. “You okay?” she asks softly, her fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.

You nod, leaning into her touch. “Yeah. Just... processing.”

A flicker of guilt crosses Rio’s face. “I never should’ve left you alone.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you reply, reaching up to squeeze her hand. “And you came back in time. That’s what matters.”

She exhales heavily, her arms tightening around you protectively. For a while, neither of you speak, the silence broken only by the rhythmic sound of her breathing. Then she shifts, her thumb brushing against your knuckles. “I mean it, though—I’m not letting you out of my sight for a while.”

You roll your eyes but don’t argue. The truth is, you don’t mind the idea of her staying close.

As the evening wears on, you begin to feel a sense of normalcy returning. Wrapped in her arms, you finally let your guard down, the weight of the day melting away. You tilt your head up to meet her gaze, your heart skipping as you notice the way she’s looking at you—soft yet intent.

“You’re staring,” you tease, your voice quiet.

“Can’t help it,” she murmurs, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “You’re kind of hard to look away from.”

Your cheeks flush, but before you can respond, her lips capture yours in a kiss that’s slow and deliberate, like she’s savouring every moment. You respond eagerly, your fingers tangling in her hair as she shifts to deepen the kiss.

Somehow, the two of you end up lying on the couch, her body pressing against yours as your hands roam freely, exploring the familiar territory with renewed fervour. She pulls away just long enough to catch her breath, her forehead resting against yours. “Bedroom?” she whispers, her voice husky.

You nod, your heart racing as she helps you to your feet. The walk to the bedroom is brief, but each step feels charged with anticipation. 

You guide her to the bed, her hand sliding into yours as you both move with an unspoken understanding. She lets you press her down gently so she’s sitting on the mattress, her signature smirk tugging at her lips. “So, this is how it’s going to be tonight?” she teases, her voice low, challenging but still laced with warmth. Her eyes glint with curiosity, though you can sense she’s enjoying this shift in control. “Guess I can let you take the lead. Just this once.”

You can’t help but laugh softly, leaning down to press a playful kiss to her lips. “Call it a thank you for saving me. Hero perks, right?” You reply, your voice just as teasing.

Her chuckle rumbles low in her throat as her hands settle lightly on your hips, grounding you. “You’ve got an interesting way of saying thanks,” she murmurs, tilting her head to expose her neck—an invitation and a challenge all at once. “But I’m not complaining.”

You take her challenge with a grin, leaning down to press your lips to her neck, your kisses starting soft but quickly growing more heated. You find the spot just below her ear where her skin is most sensitive, and when she lets out a low, pleased hum, you focus your attention there. Your tongue darts out, followed by a sharp nip of your teeth, before you suck on her skin, leaving a mark to match the ones she gave you just nights ago.

She tilts her head back with a soft gasp, her fingers tightening their grip on your hips. “You’re getting good at that,” she murmurs, her tone teasing but breathless. Her words spur you on, and you trail more kisses down her neck, each one deliberate, each one claiming her in your own way.

As your lips continue their path, your hands slide over her body, unbuttoning her shirt and tugging it off. Your eyes roam her, taking in every inch of her toned body and the way her muscles flex under your touch.

“Enjoying the view?” she teases, arching a brow, but there’s a flush on her cheeks that betrays her confidence.

“Absolutely,” you reply without hesitation, earning a quiet laugh from her.

Your hands move to the waistband of her pants, your fingers brushing against her skin as you pull them down, leaving her bare before you. You grab her hips, pulling her into you so she’s perched on the edge of the bed, your legs pushing her knees further apart. Her dark eyes meet yours, filled with a mixture of anticipation and challenge, and you can’t help but feel a surge of affection and desire for her all at once.

“You look good like this,” you say softly, your hands trailing up her thighs as you kneel between them.

Rio leans back on her palms, her smirk widening. “Show me just how grateful you are, sweetheart.”

Looking directly into Rio’s eyes, you drag your tongue through her wetness. 

“That’s it,” she breathes, her voice huskier now. Her nails coming to dig lightly into your shoulder as her body shifts beneath you. 

Hooking your arms under her legs, you push your face further into Rio, tongue pressing firmer against her clit and she rolls her hips at the sensation. Your tongue swirls over and around her bundle of nerves, eliciting more praise. “You’re so good at this, sweetheart,” she says, her tone uncharacteristically tender.

The praise makes your stomach flip, and you press your thighs together, feeling your arousal soak your underwear.

You notice the subtle change in her demeanour, her usual teasing grin replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. Her hands grip you tightly, but there’s a gentleness to her touch you hadn’t expected. “I don’t give up control often. But with you... it feels right.” Her voice falters slightly, and the admission makes your heart ache with tenderness.

As her orgasm builds, she finally lets go entirely, her usual defences falling away. Her head tilts back, her breathy praises and quiet gasps filling the space. After she reaches her peak, she pulls you up to her, her arms wrapping around you tightly as if grounding herself. “You’re incredible,” she whispers into your ear, her lips brushing against your temple as she catches her breath. “But don’t think I’m done with you yet.”

Her smirk returns, this time sharper, more determined. Before you can respond, she drags you down on to the bed, flipping you gently onto your back. Her strength is firm but careful, her lips curling in amusement at your surprised expression. “Your turn,” she murmurs, her voice low and promising. She begins to trail kisses down your body, her actions deliberate and knowing. “Let me show you how grateful I am,” she adds, her grin growing as your body arches beneath her touch.

With that, she strips you, her soft hands feeling all over your body. When her fingers trail up your thigh, she lets out a soft chuckle at the feeling of your arousal dripping. “Seems like someone enjoyed the praise.” 

You whimper as her fingers press lightly against your clit.

“You made me feel so good, baby.” Her middle finger slides lower. “Such a clever girl.” She teases your entrance. “You know exactly how I like it.” She pushes her finger in.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” you moan as it curls inside you. “More.”

Rio slides another finger in, biting her lip and groaning at how easily you take it. "Oh, darling, you’re taking me so well,” she praises, starting to pump her fingers in and out. She adds a third, and you feel the familiar tightening in your stomach. She picks up the pace, fucking all of the tension from the night out of you both. “You look so good like this,” she coos.

Arching into her touch, head pushing into the mattress, you keen, “Oh fuck. Rio, you’re going to make me cum.”

“That’s it, sweetheart; you’re doing so well, cum for me,” she whispers against your skin, kissing your neck.

Your mouth falls open, a breathless cry escaping as your orgasm overtakes you. The tension that had been building within you shatters, a wave of heat and pleasure coursing through your body. You arch into her, every nerve alight, the sensation so overwhelming that it renders you momentarily weightless. A strangled gasp follows, your voice raw and unrestrained, her name slipping from your lips like a plea and a prayer all at once.

—

Later, as the two of you lay tangled in the sheets, Rio’s arms wrap tightly around you, holding you, refusing to let go. The tension of the night seems to fade, replaced by a sense of closeness you hadn’t fully realised until now. She presses a kiss to the top of your head, her fingers tracing absent patterns along your back.

“You know,” she begins softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t usually do this—let people in, I mean. I don’t let myself feel this way.” She hesitates, her grip on you tightening slightly. “But with you... I can’t imagine not having you here.”

Your chest tightens at her words, and you tilt your head to meet her gaze. The raw vulnerability in her eyes makes your heart ache. “Rio...” you begin, your voice trembling slightly as your hand brushes against her cheek. “I love you.”

Her lips part in surprise, and then her smile grows, soft and genuine in a way you rarely see. “Took you long enough to say it,” she teases, though her voice is thick with emotion. She leans down, brushing her lips against yours in a kiss that’s slow and tender. When she pulls back, her eyes lock with yours. “I love you too, you know.”

You crack a small smile. “So, I guess you’re gonna be the one crashing at my place now, huh? Seeing as it’s your door that got kicked in this time,” you say, breaking the tender moment.

Rio blinks at you, then lets out a soft laugh. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you reply, grinning now.

[dissapointu]

heyy!! can you do how arcane characters would react to a reader with bpd? I have it and its really hard to deal with

I personally don't have Bpd so I hope I was able to write for it- lmk if I got it completely wrong.

Jinx

Arguments with Jinx are a whole event. She’s already impulsive and emotional, so when you’re spiraling, it’s like pouring gas on a fire. She’ll yell, throw something (not at you, but still—chaotic), and storm off dramatically. But the second she sees you starting to crumble, her face softens, and she’s all, “Hey, hey, don’t cry, okay? I’m the crazy one, remember?”

She’ll make up for it with grand, ridiculous gestures—like painting a giant heart on the wall with “SORRY” inside it or showing up with an armful of random things she thinks you’ll like (a half-broken music box, a live rat, some Piltie trinket she swiped). Daily life with her is unpredictable. She’ll match your mood swings and throw in some of her own, but she’s always there to hold you through the aftermath, whispering, “It’s us against the world, baby.”

Vi

Vi has this big sister energy, so she tries to stay calm during arguments, but let’s be real—she’s not a saint. If you start pushing buttons, she’ll fire back, arms crossed, scowling like, “Oh, so this is my fault now?” But the second she sees that shift in your expression, that look like you’re about to spiral, she’ll stop mid-sentence and sigh.

“Come here,” she says, pulling you into a hug even if you’re still mad. “I didn’t mean it. You know I’m an idiot sometimes.”

She’s great at grounding you during bad days—holding your hand, distracting you with dumb stories about Powder or her childhood. Daily life with Vi is full of banter and teasing, but she’s also super protective, always making sure you know you’re safe with her.

Sevika

Arguments with Sevika are INTENSE. She’s not great with emotions, so when you’re on edge, she’s either trying to fix it logically (spoiler: it doesn’t work) or getting frustrated. “What do you want me to do? Tell me, and I’ll do it!” she’ll snap, her mechanical arm whirring in frustration.

But once she realizes she’s made it worse, she’ll sit beside you in silence, waiting for you to calm down. Then she’ll quietly say, “I don’t get it, but I’m trying. For you.”

Daily life with Sevika is steady—she likes routine, which can be comforting when you’re feeling unstable. She’ll bring you food when you’re too drained to eat and let you vent while she works. If you get clingy, she’s the type to roll her eyes but secretly loves it when you hold onto her like a lifeline.

Silco

Silco approaches everything with the cold, calculating precision of a chess player, including your BPD. During arguments, he’s quiet but firm, and sometimes his calm demeanor makes you feel worse, like he doesn’t care. But the moment he sees tears in your eyes, his voice softens.

“Enough,” he says gently, stepping closer. “I’m not leaving. Stop telling yourself that.”

He’ll sit with you until the storm passes, stroking your hair and murmuring reassurances in that low, gravelly voice of his. Daily life with Silco is structured—he thrives on stability and will gently encourage you to find your own, whether that’s a routine or a grounding technique. He’s not the best at expressing love, but his actions—bringing you tea, remembering the little things—say everything.

Vander

Arguments with Vander are rare, but when they happen, it breaks both of your hearts. He hates seeing you upset, especially when you’re directing all that anger at yourself. “Hey, don’t do that,” he says, his voice full of worry. “You’re not a bad person.”

He’ll pull you into a hug, even if you’re still yelling, and just hold you until you calm down. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers. “We’ll figure it out.”

Daily life with Vander is comforting—he’s patient and steady, always making sure you feel loved. He’ll cook for you, listen to your rambles, and let you cry into his chest when it all feels like too much. He’s your rock, and you know he’ll never let you fall too far.

Ekko

Ekko’s a sweetheart, but arguments can get heated because he cares so much. “Why do you always think I’m gonna leave?” he’ll ask, frustration lacing his voice. But then he sees you breaking down and immediately softens.

“Hey, no, I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, pulling you close. “You’re stuck with me, okay? Forever.”

Daily life with Ekko is fun and supportive. He’ll crack jokes to make you laugh on bad days and bring you little gifts—flowers he found, gadgets he fixed—just to see you smile. He’s great at reminding you of your worth when you can’t see it yourself.

Jayce

Jayce doesn’t get BPD at first, but he’s trying, okay? Arguments can get messy because he’s such a fixer. “What do you mean you don’t want advice? I’m trying to help!” he’ll say, running his hands through his hair.

But after a while, he learns to just listen. He’ll apologize quickly, his voice soft and full of regret: “I didn’t mean to make it worse. I just want to be here for you.”

Daily life with Jayce is full of love and enthusiasm. He’s always hyping you up, reminding you how amazing you are. If you’re having a bad day, he’ll drop everything to take you out for a walk or snuggle up with you on the couch.

Viktor

Viktor is SO patient. Arguments don’t happen often because he’s great at de-escalating situations. “I understand,” he says softly when you’re upset, his voice calm and measured. “I know it feels like that right now, but it’s not true.”

He’s the king of quiet, steady love. Daily life with Viktor is peaceful—he lets you sit with him while he works, always making sure you’re comfortable. On bad days, he’ll bring you tea and remind you, “You’re not a burden. Never.”

Caitlyn

Caitlyn is a problem-solver, so arguments can get frustrating because she wants to fix everything, even when you just want her to listen. “I’m sorry,” she says eventually, taking your hands in hers. “I’ll try to do better. Just…tell me what you need.”

Daily life with Caitlyn is filled with small acts of love—she’ll leave you little notes, bring you flowers, and make sure you feel secure. She’s incredibly understanding, always willing to talk things through when you’re ready.

Mel Medarda

Mel is the definition of grace under pressure. During arguments, she stays calm, even when you’re spiraling. “I know you don’t mean that,” she says firmly, but her eyes are full of understanding.

She’s amazing at making you feel grounded—pulling you into her lap, stroking your hair, and whispering, “It’s okay. We’re okay.” Daily life with Mel is luxurious—she spoils you with gifts and quality time, always making sure you feel loved and valued.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa is a bit of a bulldozer during arguments, but not out of malice—she’s just used to being in control. “You’re stronger than this,” she’ll say, her tone sharp. But the moment she sees your tears, she softens.

“I didn’t mean to push,” she says, placing a steady hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to fight this alone.”

Daily life with Ambessa is protective—she’s always making sure you’re cared for, whether that’s bringing you food, making sure you rest, or just standing by your side like an unshakable force.

TL;DR: Everyone loves you in their own messy, flawed way because you’re worth every bit of the work. <3

[locomoqo]

Hello! just came across your blog and i absolutely love your work<3

Could you maybe do jake x reader where the reader is his wife:33 maybe crack or fluff depends on you:3

(loved the gitae fic with wife Reader✨)

fancy footwork

— jake kim x reader

details: pure fluff, established relationship, jake is ur hubby

A/N: i hc that jake is good at sexy dancing (i bet he was stiff af at first but got better overtime)

One of the promises Jake has made to himself is that he’d never end up like his father. Especially when it comes to his love life, especially when it comes to you. He’ll make sure that every minute, every second, you know how much he loves you. Every moment is precious to him, no matter how small or insignificant they may seem—like nights spent cooking together in the kitchen. 

Tonight, you and Jake are making dinner, you’re focused on slicing vegetables while Jake stirs a pot at the stove. The playlist goes on softly in the background, blending into the evening—until one song in particular comes on, catching Jake’s attention and making him pause.

He recognizes the first few seconds as one of your favorites, a song that instantly brings a playful glint to his eyes. He glances over his shoulder, that familiar, mischievous smile forming as he looks at you. “Wait, isn’t this one of your favorite songs?”

You barely glance up from your chopping. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” he replies, his grin widening. With a playful sidestep, he’s right beside you, giving you a light hip bump that makes you stumble a bit, almost cutting off your steady chopping. A small smile creeps onto your face, despite your efforts to stay focused on dinner. You roll your eyes, though it’s clear you’re not annoyed—just amused.

Jake raises his eyebrows and starts rolling his shoulders, leaning into the beat with that funny little dance he always does to make you laugh. It’s half shoulder shimmy, half confident strut, and he exaggerates it with a serious face like he’s performing for a grand audience. You can’t help but laugh, and the sound only seems to encourage him further.

“You’re ridiculous,” you giggle, trying to concentrate on the vegetables.

“Maybe, but I’m ridiculous and on beat,” he says with a wink, adding in an even more exaggerated shoulder move, trying to coax you into dancing with him. “Come onnn, dance with me.”

“Jake, we’re cooking! And I am not dancing,” you insist, though the laughter bubbling up makes it hard to sound serious.

He shrugs, “Fine, I’ll just dance for the both of us then.” But before you can protest, he reaches over, setting your knife aside and gently pulling you away from the cutting board. His grin only widens as his moves get increasingly dramatic with every beat.

“Just one dance,” he coaxes, holding out his hand. “The last time we danced together was at our wedding, don't you miss that?”

You narrow your eyes, trying to stay composed, but a grin starts tugging at the corners of your lips. “Fine,” you sigh dramatically, slipping your hand into his.

He pulls you close, and the two of you sway together to the music, moving in sync with a bit of silly exaggeration and a whole lot of warmth. You let him twirl you once, twice, until you’re breathless with laughter, stumbling as he dips you unexpectedly. He lifts you back up with a smile and a wink, making it all feel so natural and lighthearted.

At one point, he holds you close, swaying gently with a tenderness that softens his expression. “See? Told you it’d be fun.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help grinning back. “Fine, maybe I will admit it was fun.”

“Only maybe?” he asks, his voice low and playful as he dips you once more, bringing you back up only to spin you again. He’s savoring every second of this, holding you as if you might just float away if he lets go.

You shake your head, feigning exasperation, even though you’re clearly enjoying every second of it. “Alright, you win. I’m having fun,” you finally admit, laughter laced in your voice.

“Look at that smile,” he teases, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face. Before you know it, he’s leaned in close, his gaze dropping to your lips. He pauses, just long enough to see you smile, before pressing a playful kiss to your cheek.

“You’re impossible,” you murmur, though the warmth in your voice betrays you.

He laughs, the sound wrapping around you like a soft blanket. “Only for you,” he whispers, pulling you close once more.

You feel a warmth settle over you, one that has nothing to do with the cooking. Because with Jake, even the simplest moments—like a silly dance in the kitchen—feel like they’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

[starriegalaxy]

For your cute prompts, imagine this: Sun, in all of his petty glory, is very offended with Y/N leaving the Daycare early recently. He decides to pull a prank by locking the door so Y/N cannot leave, and sassily hangs the key on his wrist ribbons. The only way for Y/N to "earn" their escape is by playing with him and having a tea party with his plushies.

Hi again Amary! Sorry this took so long ack - finally got to finish it this morning so pls enjoy 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Title : Leaving So Soon? 

Tags : Fluff, romance, romantic-leaning, female reader, set in Fear Factor AU, Sun-centric

Rated : Teen and Up Audiences 

Synopsis : Sun was a little salty that you were leaving early so he devised a little plan to make you stay just a tad longer …

Tagging @kaprisvn @hexcii @sun-e-chips @nighternex & y'all Sun lovers 🫵🏻

----------------------------------------

“Flower.”, you said, patience wearing thin in your tone. 

Sun places the door bar in place and locks the gates with a key he procured from somewhere. You had been busy cleaning up when you spotted Sunny blocking your one exit. You had an assignment due in a couple of days and you really wanted to get a headstart… You supposed that telling him that caused him to do this. 

Sunny turns around and gingerly places the keys on his wrist somehow, with a clink near his bells. “Sorry. Leaving so soon? I'm afraid you're going to have to earn your freedom tonight, Doll.”, he turns around, overly smug with his tone as he walks back towards you. With a crease in your brow and your arms carefully folded over your chest, you regard him with an urge to smack his faceplate. 

You need your hand though so you quickly shake off the feeling. He takes a seat out from the kiddy tables and gestures to it while saying, “Take a seat, precious. You're going to need it.” You take a quick inhale, exhale and trudge over to the chair. Sitting down in it hastily, he calmly takes his own chair and sets the teacups properly, one each for the participants, even including the Glamrock plushies. You refuse to think it's cute. Huffing again as you reach for the cup he offered you, fingers brushing briefly, you bring it to your lips in a mock sip. 

“Well then, you may start.”, he gestures with his hand in a gentle sway towards you. An excruciatingly long sigh leaves your lips when you finish sipping. “How was your day, Mr Sunny?” His eyes upturn and his rays spin once. “Quite pleasant actually. I just got started with trying something new-”, he went on a tangent where there was a new method that could calm a child from crying quicker. Your eyebrows scrunch fondly over how his body language was less tense compared to before. 

Most likely, he was throwing a fit over how little his time with you was. Admittedly being late for tonight's date, you apparently had no business not making up for it. Oh but you couldn't help but worry about your assignment even when he managed to rope you into this ridiculous impromptu tea party etiquette lesson. Your fingers thrummed across the table in distress and your legs shook anxiously. Sun’s rambling ceases and he goes quiet. Shoot. You stopped listening like 10 minutes ago. 

“Do you really have to go?”, his tone goes solemn. Your lips crease in a guilty frown. He can't use that tone every time you have to go do something… Lifting up from your chair, you walk over to him, gingerly plucking the teacup from his hand and batted away at his arms so you could sit on his lap. “Baby, I know I was late tonight. I just - This assignment is really important. I'll make it up to you, I promise.”, you caress his face gently. He pulls you in for a hug and you return it fully.

Man, it still threw you off whenever he acted like this. Clingier and more honest with his feelings. It's not bad, just flustered you is all. You pull away slightly to say, “There's a good boy. Thank you for understanding.”, and kiss his cheek appreciatively. “...a few more kisses, please?”, he utters softly. Again, that tone. “And you say I'm the temptress most of the time.”, you joke fondly, putting your forehead against his. “You are. I just… please.”, his hands settle on your waist comfortably, warmth seeping into his hands. 

Unfortunately, you were bad at resisting these boys' requests. “...Of course, c’mere.”, you bring his faceplate closer and he melts into the kisses instantly. 

Seems like that homework will be delayed one way or another, huh? But you're gonna ace it in time anyways so have faith and kiss that robot in the meantime, little security guard. 

The End. 

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  @cuips-not-cute! cuips_not_cute has six fics in the Stranger Things fandom on AO3 and all of them are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @cuips-not-cute:

he could be brave

blood is an aphrodisiac

honeyed affection

blinking red light

cyclical

"cuips is a master of taking the reader on an emotional roller coaster ride. The amount of times I've laughed and cried at the same time reading his fics have been too numerous to count. Especially the depth of the sex scenes and the character beats and growth they portray are gorgeous to read - and also very titillating. I love Steve and Eddie in every one of cuips stories, adore the little mannerisms they are given and the way they interact with each other and other characters. Besides the inspiring prose cuips can pull off a plot like few other people I've found so far - since blinking red light is still ongoing, I'll just point to cyclical for that. I'm very thankful to cuips for writing and posting these stories and for being a very active part of this lovely fandom." -- anonymous

Below the cut, @cuips-not-cute answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

i don’t even know. i was happily in the ofmd fandom when i watched season 4 almost three years ago now (oh god) and then the characters… they got me. i fear they’ll never leave.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

god, so many. they’re all kinda the same flavor though so i’ll list out what i’m always filtering for to find a new fic: bottom/sub eddie, creature/monster eddie, post s4, canon compliant, soft dom steve, sex pollen, spit kink, rimming (perhaps my FAVORITE ever thing to read), switch eddie/switch steve… the list goes on.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

probably also rimming. there’s just something so romantic about eating ass. and i really love to stick with post s4 canon compliant aus, too, i don’t think i’ve written an actual for real au yet, though i do have an idea for one after brl.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

i don’t know if i can pick!! my ao3 bookmarks host my many all-time faves, but if you wanna go by the fic i’ve reread the most it’s probably the affliction of the feeling. it’s so fucking good.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

YES!!! i have never written omegaverse!!! which is crazy, ‘cause i like it a LOT. i have a post-s4 omegaverse au kicking around in my head currently, and i cannot wait to sink my teeth into all the messy biology and politics that come with the omegaverse.

What is your writing process like?

chaotic, in a word. usually, i’ll get a fic idea while i’m balls-deep in writing another fic so i’ll shove it to the side and let it simmer while i finish that first one, then i’ll spend a good long while planning it out in ridiculous detail, and THEN i’ll start actually drafting. i like to have a fully fleshed out outline and a couple chapters written and edited before i start posting, and once posting begins i tend to deviate quite a bit from my outline but it’s all good fun.

Do you have any writing quirks?

definitely. i don’t like pointing them out for fear of other folks seeing them in everything i do, but they’re there. one that i don’t mind so much is my absolute abuse of the word “little.” everything is “a little” of this, “a little” of that, but i try to cut my usage down significantly while i’m editing.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

i always TRY to keep a schedule but… yeah. it never works. i’m far too busy for one, but attempts are made. i’d like to one day write a fic in full before posting it, because i think it’d be a whole lot better if i let it sit for that long but lord, i sure do like getting ao3 comments on every chapter. they make the writing motivation go WAY up.

Which fic are you most proud of?

brl, definitely. that fucker is LONG and i’m barely halfway through it. i think i’ve done a lot of cool things with it and i’m going to do some more cool things and i’ve made a lot of really awesome friends in the process of writing it so it’s got some pretty insane sentimental value to me. it’s definitely going to be a fic i’ll miss writing once i finish it, but that’s what the epilogue series is for!!!

How did you get the idea for blinking red light?

from another fic!!! @racketghost is the author of one of my favorite things i’ve ever read, which is the good omens zach and miri au, closed set (https://archiveofourown.org/works/23320960/chapters/55862155 <- hyperlinked), wherein crowley has been lying about the existence of some angelic sex tapes to all of hell, and then he and aziraphale have to actually make the tapes. it’s awesome. it’s gorgeous. brl is one big giant love letter to this fic, because it means so fucking much to me and i think about it ALL the time. 

When writing honeyed affection, what was something you didn’t expect?

hmm, i don’t know? ha is, i think, a pretty easygoing fic with lots and lots of porn stuffed inside it, and that was all i intended it to be so i cannot think of anything i was surprised by!!

What inspired blood is an aphrodisiac?

i just wanted to write vampire eddie. it was july ‘22, kas theories were everywhere, i had to try it. these days i think i would change a LOT about it because my ideas and hcs surrounding the characters have evolved significantly, but i’ll write vampire eddie again and “fix” everything i no longer like about biaa.

What was your favorite part to write from he could be brave?

…the fisting. i genuinely think some of my best writing is in that scene, and while i feel the same way about this fic as i do biaa, the fisting scene will always hold a special place in my heart. i’m very, very excited to write the fisting chapter in brl because of this scene. fisting rules.

How do/did you feel writing cyclical?

i wrote cyclical during a very weird few months of my life, so writing it was sort of my way of dealing with all the insane shit going on around me, and i think it shows. in a good way, though, because cyclical is a timeloop fic so it needed to be a little angsty and insane. i’m stupidly proud of that fic. @ryeallytired actually BOUND it into a PHYSICAL BOOK and SENT IT TO ME and when i tell you that is the singular most precious object i own, i mean it.

What was the most difficult part of writing blinking red light?

PLOTTING THAT BITCH. GOD. i’m so happy to be actually WRITING it now, the planning was genuinely so brutal. my issue was that i was sticking too close to the plot of closed set (<3) which just… did not work for steddie. closed set’s premise centers around crowley lying about making sex tapes, yes, but he lied about them to PROTECT aziraphale, which is the messiest, kindest, riskiest fucking thing ever. and it’s awesome. in the early planning stages of brl, i was trying to put eddie in the crowley role of lying about having made sex tapes with steve, but it reallyyy didn’t work. there was an oc and i absolutely hated him, plus i didn’t like what that premise was doing to eddie’s character… ugh. it was a MESS. it took several rubber duck-ing conversations with my brilliant friend @lollaika and a rewatch of zach and miri to finally realize that it had to be STEVE who brings up the idea of sex tapes so that he could protect eddie, rather than eddie bringing it up to save his own hide (yikes).

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

oooh, lots. reallyyyy loved chapter 8 of cyclical with all of the pov shifts, that was super fun to write. i also really enjoyed writing the dry humping/sex tape convo in the first chapter of brl, and i’m stupidly excited to write chapters 12, 13, 15, and 17, because of specific scenes that will happen in each.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

i do!! after brl is completed i’ll have to choose from two story ideas (because i cannot have two wips at once or i’ll get SO stressed), one being a semi-realistic steddie cowboy au based off my own experiences with growing up on a farm and featuring messy, earnest cowboys and not-fully-human eddie, and the other being the omegaverse au i want to write, which will have a very fun mix of vampire eddie, dubcon bitching, and accidental mating bites!!!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

i cannot think of anything!! this was super fun :D

Thank you to our author, @cuips-not-cute, and our anonymous nominator! See more of cuips_not_cute's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[lilithofpenandbook]

Out of everything that traumatised Neville, Snape isn't one of them. If he is, that's not because Snape is abusive, it's because Neville is literally weak. That's not an insult, that's his flaw- being unnecessarily scared of everything. The other children are not afraid of Snape himself. They're more afraid of the consequences of angering Snape (house points lost, detentions, scoldings) rather than Snape as a person.

Neville's feelings are shockingly enough, not valid. Those feelings of fear, that cowardice? A flaw. Just as much as arrogance, spitefulness, being overly afraid is a flaw and in his case makes him a danger to others, as does his clumsiness and forgetfulness. Now, forgetfulness isn't something you can choose, I'd call it a weakness more than a flaw, but at the same time there are ways to manage it. But the cowardice? That's a flaw that needs to be corrected.

Neville's trauma comes from his family. His uncle is awful to him, as is his grandmother, and seeing his parents in such a state is enough to mess anyone up. He comes from a messed up family. It does not come from Snape.

People also like to say that "Oh look his boggart is Snape even though his parents were tortured!!!" but here's the thing: Neville was probably never even present.

He probably never ever even saw his parents tortured. He knows what happened, but was most likely never a witness. If he was present would he have actually lived? Of course not. So of course he's not going to have that as his worst fear. It's not going to come to mind in school. Not when he just got grilled by Snape.

Neville's been through traumatic events, that's undeniable. But Snape is not one of them. Snape isn't obliged to be nice to Neville. Snape's job when it's Neville is, by some point, just making sure Longbottom doesn't kill them all. Neville's cowardice and clumsiness aren't reasons to coddle him. If I was teaching Potions, I'd have kicked Neville out by second year- no way am I risking a whole class because one child can't follow basic instructions.

Neville's family is the real problem in Neville's story. They're supposed to look after him and care for him. If we're going to be talking about this boy's trauma, we need to discuss how he was more alarmed at the thought of his grandmother being his boggart than Snape was to the point that he didn't mention her, Lupin just mentioned her to give Neville an idea of how to sort out the boggart

And let's also talk about why Lupin decided to essentially completely humiliate a colleague that is already not respected by the children. Making his likeness look ridiculous is so petty and unprofessional. Lupin could have easily told Neville to do literally anything else that would have made the situation funny without making a mockery of Snape, but he didn't. He chose to suggest the grandmother's clothes to humiliate the real Snape- look at what happened at Christmas when Snape got that hat from his cracker, he was clearly upset by it, he clearly knew why the boys were laughing-and not only that, he prompted Neville through the entire thing. He didn't simply say "imagine Snape in your grandmother's clothes", he dragged out the entire thing to make it as ludicrous as possible (like, why the handbag? Why did he prompt Neville to also describe her handbag? Obviously to add to the ridiculousness). That's his colleague. He's leading the kids to disrespect his colleague, their teacher. When you read that scene, it's fairly obvious Snape was likely to be Neville's boggart due to him literally making a remark that embarrassed Neville seconds prior that Neville visibly reacted to (and in all honesty, it was a fair warning. Sarcastic, but fair- Neville should not be entrusted with anything dangerous and DADA involves doing things that could hurt others). If you want to talk about the boggart scene, acknowledge how Lupin had a full conversation with Neville to prompt him to imagine something to humiliate Snape with. "Oh, it's just a boggart" But it's not. Something like that is going to be spread, gossiped about, it will ruin whatever little respect the kids have for Snape. Lupin was behaving absolutely unprofessionally and honestly when I looked at it just now, it made me feel a little sick the way Lupin was talking.

And I'm not even going to discuss Trevor The Toad, I've already gone on about him multiple times before. It's probably the most misunderstood and misused scene against Snape. Like, it only takes two seconds to realise that if Snape's intention was to hurt or kill Trevor, he would have just squished Trevor when Trevor was reduced into a tadpole (was it a tadpole?). As it was, he didn't even leave Trevor as a tadpole and make Neville make the counter-potion, he administered it himself and was specifically mad that Hermione helped Neville after being told not to. Once again, Snape's not being abusive or a bully for the sake of it- he's trying to be a teacher. It's the kind of thing you hate as a child but grow up to realise that actually, the adult had a point. Even if it seemed unfair at that moment.

Anyway, people geniunely don't give a shit about Neville's trauma, and when they do, it's to use it against Snape without acknowledging that actually, it's far worse that his Boggart could have easily been his grandmother but Lupin didn't allow it (he didn't even question why he was so afraid of her). It's far worse that his uncle treated him so badly. It's far worse that the people who were supposed to raise Neville were cruel to him. And it's far worse that McGonagall, who IS supposed to care for Neville, is just as mean to him as Snape is.

The fact that people (Marauders Stans) only care about Neville's trauma to bash Snape. It's always Snape was his boggart never McGonagall risked him dying twice and humiliated him in front of everyone. Or his grandma treated him like shit and his great uncle nearly killed him several times. They literally don't care about Neville. It's Snape fans who actually care more about him (even if they don't care about him) because they don't treat him/his trauma like a tool (which is a very low bar). I feel really sorry for him. After everything he went through, his trauma is not talked about enough.

[lvrrgirlll]

Tolerate It (series)

Synopsis: Life as Patrick Zweig’s controversially young girlfriend should have been a dream, but it was anything but. He was a broken man. You were a girl who knew all too well. Who’s to say whether you’ve got it wrong now…

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Pairing: Patrick Zweig x reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: angst, reader is jealous and somewhat paranoid, references to cheating, creepy old men hitting on reader, both Patrick and reader get much needed wake up calls…

Notes: This entire part is kind of frustrating BUT it’s so necessary in the progression of the story y’all! It will all come together trust!! (Also I’m on Thanksgiving break soon so I’ll be able to write more)

Previous part

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Part 3: Things fall apart

2029:

Weeks before you two had agreed to the interview, you already knew Patrick was going to retire. It hadn’t been announced at that point, but you knew. It had come after a particularly bad fight.

“But you don’t understand, Patrick! You’re not listening to me! It’s not easy for me, I feel like I drop everything to be there for you all the time. When was the last time you honestly did anything for me?” You shouted at him, frustrated at the fact that you were even having this fight. He had complained that you didn’t seem so supportive of him going for a spot in Wimbledon in the upcoming season, which you hadn’t been because you were tired of traveling all the time and being alone during the day while he practiced incessantly. That didn’t seem so hard to understand to you. He had won several titles over the past few years. What was one other?

“Oh, I don’t do anything for you? Who payed for the house we’re in right now? Who bought you that dress? Who bought that huge fucking rock on your finger?” He fired back angrily. You hated fighting like this. It always reminded you of the power imbalance between the two of you.

2020:

After finding out what you did, you decided not to confront Patrick. It must’ve been your mistake. You wrote it off as foolish assumption on your part. In your gut, though, you knew better.

You two went on like normal for a while. He went back on tour for a bit. With this newfound information, you definitely called him more often than before. He didn’t seem to mind though, which honestly surprised you for a bit. You half worried about annoying him, seeming like just some ridiculous kid, but at the end of the day, you did really care about him, and would do anything to make sure he stayed with you.

On a cool, Spring Saturday evening you called him, knowing he shouldn’t be busy given the time. Much to your dismay, though, no answer. Fuck. So you called him again. Still no answer. Doing what any rational person would, you checked his location. He was at some bar. You felt defeated. Surely he was with some whore. Then a terrible, horrible idea came to you. What if you drove out to where he was playing? What if you drove out to that bar? …No, you couldn’t. But then again…it was a Saturday night. You weren’t busy. And he was far, but realistically, not that far. A 4 hour drive. So maybe he wouldn’t be at the bar by the time you got there…but then again, maybe he would be? Your curiosity jealousy got the best of you as you grabbed your keys, slipping on your shoes and heading out to your car.

You drove like a bat out of Hell, surely speeding, but you hardly cared. You were fueled by your paranoia. What was he doing at some random dive bar? Why wasn’t he answering your calls? You intended to get answers to both of these questions.

Driving so quickly, you shaved a whole hour off the drive, arriving at the run down looking bar a little past midnight. When you got there you parked, slamming the door before marching into the building with purpose. Upon entering, you took in your surroundings. It was dim, most light coming from neon signs for different beer brands. There were a few pool tables off in one corner, an empty stage, and the bar, which looked to be the type that really only served beer or whiskey. Why on earth would Patrick even be at a place like this? He’s gotta be with some girl…

It wasn’t too busy. There were a few older looking guys at the end of the bar, not “older” like Patrick— actually older— and several ladies who looked to be in their 40s, loudly cheering with margaritas in hand. Still no sign of Patrick. You were still stood by the door, looking down at your phone to check his location, which still pinpointed him right at the bar, when you noticed the older men leering at you.

“Hey princess, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing here,” one of the men hollered. You tried to avoid eye contact, walking further into the bar and therefore away from them. There were several guys who looked to be closer to Patrick’s age crowded around the pool tables, so you walked in that direction, hoping Patrick was among them. With your luck, however, none of the dark, curly haired men were Patrick.

“What’s your name sweetheart,” one of them purred, leaning on his pool cue and eyeing you up and down. You felt uncomfortable, but definitely safer here than with the old guys from the front.

“Um- I’m looking for my, uh, boyfriend. He’s been here for a while, supposedly, and I was just kind of worried about him. H- have you seen a guy like this?” You turn your phone, then, showing off your lock screen which is a picture of you and Patrick cuddling in bed.

The man laughs in response, nodding his head in the direction behind you. “There’s your man, but uh, I don’t know if you’ll wanna see him…” he said smoothly, with a sense of pity filtering through his words. Your heart sank before you even turned around, and everything felt like it had just become slow motion. You turned around, seeing Patrick in a dark corner making out with another girl. You could hardly see her with his hands all over her face, but she looked to be sort of young like you. What the fuck?

“Hey, I’m sorry-“ the man behind you offered, but you walked away from him without another word. You approached Patrick quickly, reaching him finally. Despite your loud steps against the creaky wooden floor, neither he nor the girl he was currently kissing turned in your direction. Before you could even think of a strategy, you just let out a defeated assertion.

“Patrick.” His eyes immediately opened as he practically pushed the girl off of him, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Fuck, uh, what are you doing here?” That was all he could offer?

“You didn’t answer my call,” you replied as if it was the simplest thing in the world. You weren’t even sure why this hurt so much. You knew he was fooling around on tour…it was just something about him avoiding you to do so that really got you. The whole thing got to you, honestly, but you had been kidding yourself for months. It just finally fell apart.

“So…you came to my fucking location,” he questioned, looking at you with wide eyes. ‘He thinks I’m crazy…’ you thought. You looked up at him, tears welling up in your eyes. You didn’t want to cry here in this stupid dive bar in the middle of nowhere in front of him and his girl of the night.

“I didn’t know what else to do…I- I was worried,” your words were shaky as you spoke, your lip quivering. The girl he was with had walked away at this point, presumably assessing the situation enough to decide that it was best for her to leave. Patrick’s expression had changed from shock to pity.

“Baby, c’mere I’m so sorry…come on,” he tried to pull you into a hug, but you pushed him away.

“No Patrick, I don’t- I don’t want to just hug and forgive you all over again,” you sniffled, looking at him not with anger, nor sadness, but betrayal.

“Again?” He asked, looking confused.

“I saw your texts with that other girl from Savannah months ago when you came to visit. I’ve known for a while…” you murmured quietly. His eyes widened again, clearly shocked by this information.

“Shit- uh, you saw that? Fuck- why didn’t you say so sooner, oh my god.” You looked at him and no longer saw that man who could’ve hung the moon and stars. Now when you looked at him, you saw him how he saw himself: a pathetic loser who was in need of a serious reality check.

“Fuck you Patrick. I’m done.” With that, you moved to leave the bar, but he gripped your wrist as you turned, stopping you. “Let go of me,” you ordered, looking at him sternly as tears rolled down your cheeks. He did as you said, letting you go before chasing after you. In the parking lot he met you by your car, leaning on the door to keep you from leaving. “Move,” you muttered angrily.

“Baby, come on, just tell me what I can do. I can change, really, I promise. Please, I don’t wanna lose you.” It felt like bullshit, but it was honestly the truth. You were the most consistent thing he’d had in his life for a long, long time. I mean, hell, you two had been together for 9 months now. For him, that was like forever.

“You want to change, Patrick? Really, you want to change? Well here’s some advice then: get your shit together. I don’t care what you have to do. Go talk to your rich old daddy, ask him for a loan, and actually get back to where you deserve to be in your career. Fix your fucking relationship with your friends, because I know there’s still something there that you won’t tell me about, and I’m sick of it. And finally, actually learn how to be a good boyfriend. Don’t be such a man whore, it’s really not as attractive as you think it is. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m leaving. Give me a call when you’re a changed man.” And with that, he silently moved out of your way, watching you get in your car and reverse, leaving him standing there alone in the parking lot.

[airas-story]

Stephen tries very hard to temper it but he can be rather possessive of Tony. In a moment of weakness, he snaps and lets it show, only to learn that Tony finds his possessive streak absolutely enchanting.

Okay, so I've been SO good about keeping these to the 100-300 range, but then this idea hit me and wouldn't let go. So... not a drabble.

Stephen’s gaze darted to where Pepper had just entered the room, perfect smile on her face.

Instinctively, Stephen wrapped his arm tighter around Tony’s waist, pulling Tony into his side. Tony glanced up at him, amused. Stephen leaned down, pressing a kiss against Tony’s lips, an almost painful need to claim Tony surging through him. It happened almost any time he saw Pepper, saw her and remembered the life that Tony had almost lived.

Would have lived, if Stephen hadn’t interfered.

In front of them Rhodes sighed and Stephen realized that he’d completely interrupted whatever conversation Tony and Rhodes had been having.

He didn’t have it in him to feel guilty.

Tony pulled back from the kiss eventually. “I know I’m irresistible, Stephen. But if we’re not careful Rhodey’s going to put a ban on all public displays of affection. He’s like a nun, ridiculously chaste and virtuous.”

“I’m not chaste,” Rhodes argued. “But the two of you are ridiculous.”

Tony met Stephen’s gaze and rolled his eyes fondly, but turned back to Rhodes. “You are so chaste. You never liked the stripper pole.”

Rhodes gave Tony an exasperated look, shaking his head as though Tony was being ridiculous. Which, technically, could very well be argued as accurate. “Tony, it was a stripper pole.”

“And I looked damn good on it.”

That caught Stephen’s attention. “Wait, you got on the stripper pole?”

Tony smirked at him. “I’ll have you know that I’m quite flexible and I had excellent teachers.” He leaned forward. “I’d be more than willing to show you at some point.”

“Oh, would you,“ Stephen purred, letting his hand drift down Tony’s side.

“Nope, no.” Rhodes held up his hands. “Not happening. You two are not having this conversation in front of me.”

Tony stuck his tongue out at Rhodes in what was a completely mature response. “See what I mean? Chaste.”

Rhodes rolled his eyes. “You know what, I’m leaving you two sickening love birds alone; I need a drink.”

“Chaste,” Tony sang-song after him. When he turned to Stephen, however, his face was serious. “You know Pepper and I were over long before you came around, right?” Tony said, lip quirking up in a smile that was meant to reassure. “You don’t need to feel threatened by her.”

Stephen hadn’t realized that Tony had put together Stephen’s displays of possessiveness with the presence of Pepper, but he wasn’t surprised, either. Tony was far more perceptive than he pretended to be. “I’m not threatened by her,” Stephen countered. It was true, he wasn’t. He was entirely certain about Tony and him. He brought his hand up to Tony’s face, cupping it. “You love me. I know that.”

Stephen had made sure of it. Fascination was a powerful thing, and it’d been such a little spell.

It had faded, eventually, but all Stephen had needed was an in.

“I do,” Tony agreed, easily. “So why do you act as though she’s going to steal me away every time she so much as walks through the door?”

Guilt.

Because he needed to convince himself that Tony was better off with him. Safer with him. Happier with him.

“Do you really mind that I’m a possessive bastard?” Stephen asked instead of putting any of that into words. “Does it bother you to know how much I want you?” And by the Vishanti, did he want Tony. Everything he’d done was for the want of Tony.

A wry grin crossed Tony’s face. “You know I don’t mind the possessive bits. Probably should. But don’t. In fact, I probably like it a little too much.” His eyes glittered teasingly. “Honestly, it’s a bit of a turn on, knowing you want me the way you do.” He paused. “I just worry about you, I don’t want you to feel like I might run back to an old relationship the moment your back is turned.”

“I know you won’t,” Stephen said slowly. “I’m just not used to being able to keep good things.” He’d lost Tony once. He leaned down to kiss Tony again. “You’re one of the best things to ever happen to me.”

A faint flush crossed Tony’s face. “Well, you get to keep me,” he promised. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

How the Night Changes

Summary: Based on the premise that having a threesome with Steve and Nancy would have saved Barb's life.

18+ MINORS DNI

"This isn't you, Nance," Barb sighed like she usually did.

Nancy looked at her like she always did when she was about to get herself into trouble. It's been like that since they were kids. Nancy would see something she'd want, and she'd go for it with reckless abandon. Barb always had to be there for her afterward and clean up the mess whenever it went wrong. Sometimes, it didn't. Sometimes, it worked out. She wasn't sure about this time. This was different than anything she had done. What if Nancy got hurt?

"Well, if you're so worried about me, then why don't you come up here and make sure I stay out of trouble?" Nancy smirked.

That was how Barb found herself in Steve Harrington's bedroom.

"Oh my God! My eyes!" Barb exclaimed.

"Barb!" Nancy exclaimed.

"It's a crime! Plaid on plaid and then, of course, there's the sad little picture of that car," Barb said. "Who decorates their room like this?"

"My mother," Steve said as he entered. "Yeah, she has terrible taste. I didn't have the heart to tell her at first that it was awful. My dad tells her things like that all the time just make her feel bad, and I didn't want to do that. She figured it out, though, and I tried to insist that it wasn't that bad. I put up that car picture to try and pull the room together. I was trying desperately to make my mom feel good about herself, but all it did was make it look more sad. We both thought it was so utterly ridiculous, and we ended up laughing so hard. . .so I don't keep it up because I think it looks good, it's just. . ."

"You keep it up because you love your mother," Nancy said.

"Yeah, Steve Harrington is a mama's boy," Steve said.

"I think it's actually sweet now that I know the story behind it," Barb said. "Sorry."

"Nah, your intention wasn't to make me feel bad," Steve shrugged. "And it is shocking the first time you see it."

Damn it, Barb cursed mentally. She was starting to like this guy.

"It's not too bad," Barb said, and he smiled.

"Here. I found you some clothes," Steve said and handed them to Nancy. "I'll leave you to it."

Barb recognized the look in Nancy's eyes. She had seen it many times when they had sleepovers, and she wanted to forgo their pajamas completely.

"Steve," Nancy called out.

Yep, there she goes. Steve turned and ran his hands through his hair. Okay, that was kind of cute. Wait, cute? She didn't find him cute, did she? No, she was strictly into girls, wasn't she? Suddenly, Nancy was taking off her shirt. Steve looked pleasantly surprised at the turn of events and he smiled.

"You're beautiful," Steve said and then looked at Barb. "What's happening here?"

"Well, Barb is here to make sure I don't get into trouble," Nancy said, smirking. "To look out for me. . .be my guardian."

"Well, she's a very good friend," Steve said smiling, and he moved closer to them.

"She is. . .we do everything together, but if you're not okay with that - " Nancy said.

"Oh, I'm definitely okay with that," Steve said.

Steve kissed Nancy. He was a lot more gentle than Barb thought he would be. Every touch said that he didn't want to hurt Nancy. A warm feeling began to stir within Barb as Steve kissed Nancy gently. He broke the kiss, and he turned to Barb, raising a questioning eyebrow at her.

"Barb?" Nancy asked.

"Well, I guess we really do everything together," Barb said with a sigh, and then she kissed Steve.

She could feel Steve smiling against her lips, and a giggle slipped out at what she had said. Okay, yeah, she liked kissing Steve. Almost as much as she liked kissing Nancy. Maybe it didn't matter to her what was on the outside, maybe it was what on the inside that sparked her attraction. It wasn't until that tidbit about his mother that Barb started to feel something. Barb cupped the back of Steve's head and deepened the kiss and loved the way that Steve kissed her back just as softly as he did with Nancy. He wanted to make sure that they were both safe and comfortable. Steve broke the kiss.

"If you guys want to stop this at any time, I would be happy to just hang out," Steve said.

"That's sweet, Steve," Barb said. "But we definitely want to do this. Right, Nance?"

"Definitely," Nancy said.

Nancy took off Barb's glasses and set them on the nightstand. She moved to the to the other side of Steve. Together, Nancy and Barb peeled off Steve's sweater, dropping it to the floor. Barb took off her jacket and sweater, dropping them amongst their clothes.

"I hope you don't mind - ," Barb said shyly.

"You're beautiful, too," Steve said, and he kissed her before stepping back to let Nancy in.

"Of course, you're beautiful," Nancy said, and she kissed Barb.

"Well, I already know that you don't mind," Barb said, rolling her eyes affectionately. "Just making sure that Steve doesn't."

"Oh, so, you've already been together. . .?" Steve asked.

"Well, not all the way," Nancy said.

"To be honest, I've never done it with two other people at the same time," Steve said, bashfully.

"Really?" Nancy and Barb asked.

"Why are you so surprised?" Steve scoffed. "Because I've slept with a few women?"

"I'm sorry," Nancy said.

"I kind of assumed Tommy and Carol," Barb said, sheepishly.

"Well, I mean, they tried," Steve said and he screwed up his face. "I heard what they're like when they have sex. No thank you."

Barb giggled. He was just as judgmental as she was. As hard as she tried not to be, she could be a little catty.

"So, I guess this is the first for all of us," Barb said.

Steve was just as gentle with them when he was kissing them. Nancy and Barb couldn't help but share a look when Steve wanted to hold both of their hands. It was proven to be true that he thought they were both beautiful when they shed all of their clothing, and his eyes were just as dark when he looked at either one of them. Everything had fallen out of her head. All she could think about was Steve and Nancy. Barb had even forgotten to mention something to Steve. Oh, right.

"Oh, I forgot to mention that Nancy likes to - "

"OW!"

" - bite."

"Do it again."

It had started out awkward at first but once they found a rhythm, it felt beautiful to Barb to do this with both of them. Barb could tell that Steve was trying to hold off a long as possible but judging by the noise he made and the feeling between her legs, he had finished. He had satisfied them both pretty well, but Barb wasn't surprised when Steve rolled out of bed to clean himself off and throw away the condom and Nancy climbed on top of her. Nancy had kissed her harshly before sliding between her legs with her own, pressing herself up against her. She knew how randy Nancy could get. Even after all of that, she always wanted more. She loved being overstimulated.

When Steve came back, he had a rag and a couple of bottles of water. He got to watch them go all the way with each other, and Barb made eye contact with him when Nancy rolled off her, collapsing onto the bed. At some point, he had slipped his boxers back on. Steve climbed into the bed and cleaned them both off before offering them both a bottle of water. Nancy slipped on a sweater of Steve’s, kissed him, and went to the bathroom. Right, you were supposed to use the bathroom after you had sex? Barb had been a little too fucked out to think clearly but she remembered that much. Barb pulled on her sweater and underwear, hurrying after Nancy to do the same.

"How are you feeling?" Steve asked after they crawled back into bed.

"We feel really good," Barb said. "You didn't hurt us at all."

"Well, not in a bad way, anyway," Nancy smiled.

"I'm tired, but my brain feels like it's on fire at the same time," Barb said. "I'm glad I decided not to sit outside and pout while Nancy had all the fun."

"I'm glad you didn't either," Steve said and kissed her cheek, resting his head on her shoulder.

"So, what did you mean when you said that Tommy and Carol tried?" Barb asked.

"Well, they attempted to seduce me, but they had a video camera, so I don't think their intentions were all that pure," Steve said. "I turned them down."

"You know, you seem nicer than I thought you'd be. I think I assumed you would be an asshole because of Tommy and Carol," Barb said. "Why do you hang out with them?"

"I'm curious to know myself," Nancy said.

"Well, Tommy didn't used to be so bad, not until Carol came along. He was my friend since I was eight, and I just hope that at some point, he will turn back to the Tommy that I used to know. I just can't seem to walk away from that," Steve said, and he paused, cursing. "Oh my God! I'm my mom!"

"What?" Nancy asked.

"No, my mom definitely deserves better, and she knows that, but she can't seem to walk away from my asshole of a father," Steve said, and then he scoffed. "I'm a kid that wants his parents to get a divorced."

"You're not alone with that," Nancy said as she ran her hand through his hair. "I want my parents to get divorced, too. I love them both, but I think they're just holding onto something that's never been there."

"I'm sorry," Steve said.

"I'm sorry, too," Nancy said.

"You know, my father expects a lot from me. He wants what's best for the image on his family, not what's best for me. It's the complete opposite of my mother," Steve sighed. "I'm tired of trying to be perfect all the time."

"Maybe you don't have to be with us," Barb said. "What do you say, Nancy? Should we keep him?"

"Oh, definitely," Nancy said.

"You know, now that you belong to us," Barb said, and Steve smirked. "Whatever decision you make about Tommy and Carol, we'll support it even if it's the stupid decision to stay with them."

"Thanks," Steve said fondly.

Nancy pushed him back, kissed him, and curled up against him. Barb laid down, kissed him as well, and threw an arm over the both of them.

"We should probably call our parents and tell them we're spending the night at each other's houses," Barb said.

"Oh, right, good idea!" Nancy exclaimed.

After calling their parents, they crawled back into bed and started to drift off to sleep.

BANG!

"What the hell was that?" Steve asked, sitting up.

"It sounded like it came from outside," Nancy said.

Barb, who was closer to the window, rolled out of bed and looked out onto the pool in the backyard. There was a rather large, deformed looking animal banging out the lawn chairs by the pool. It was sniffing rather frantically as though it was looking for something.

"What the fuck is that?" Barb gasped and grabbed her glasses, putting them on. "FUCK!"

Steve and Nancy rushed to the window. The deformed looking animal looked up, revealing that it didn't have a face. It wasn't an animal that Barb had ever seen before. Steve and Nancy gasped as it's face opened up, revealing several rows of teeth.

"Shit!" Steve exclaimed.

The monster rolled out its tongue and started lapping up something on the concrete.

"What's it doing?" Nancy whispered.

That was where Barb had been standing when she sliced her thumb with the knife. She glanced down at her hand.

"Licking my blood," Barb said. "It's hungry."

The monster stopped what it was doing and sniffed the air. Its head snapped in their direction, almost as if it heard Barb. She quickly yanked them both down under the window and grabbed their hands in hers. The only sound they could hear was their own shaky breathing. It seemed like forever had passed but really it had only been minutes when they heard a loud splashing sound and a screech. Nancy peered over the windowsill.

"Nance!" Barb hissed.

"It fell into the pool," Nancy whispered. "It doesn't not like it. It's burning its skin. It must be the chlorine. It's out, it's running away."

There was a pregnant pause as Steve and Barb looked out the window with Nancy.

"It's gone," Steve whispered. "Yeah, I'm not fucking sleeping tonight."

"Me neither," Barb and Nancy said.

Barb struggled to find anything to say or to think about other than the monster. There was one fact that Barb couldn't get out of her head, and it was the stupidest thing in the world to think about.

"If I had been out there, it would have gotten me," Barb breathed out shakily.

"But it didn't, you're here," Nancy said and squeezing her hand.

"Fucking you and Steve saved my life," Barb said.

She looked at Steve and together, they burst into laughter. Nancy eventually followed suite.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" Nancy exclaimed.

"I know, but it's true!" Barb giggled.

Once the laughter died down, the horror of what just happened continued to hover over them. They said that they wouldn't fall asleep but the three of them ended up falling asleep, curled up on the floor.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Barb, Steve, and Nancy woke up with a jolt to the sound of Steve’s alarm clock. They jumped up, ready to fight. Barb groaned and rubbed her back.

"Yeah, falling asleep on the floor was a terrible accident," Barb said.

"Did that really happen last night?" Steve asked as he rubbed Barb's back.

"Yes, you did get to see the amazing secrets that I hold underneath my sweater," Barb said.

"No, not that," Steve snorted. "No. . .I mean. . .the monster. . . "

"Yeah," Barb said softly. "That was real."

"Well, going to the police seems stupid. I doubt they would believe us about what we saw," Nancy said.

"Okay, but shouldn't we tell someone?" Barb asked.

"Who would we tell?" Steve asked.

"I think our only option is to go to school and just act like nothing is wrong until we can come up with a plan," Nancy said. "We need proof."

Barb dropped Nancy off at home and then back to hers so they could get ready. The image of the monster floated into her head, and she couldn't get the fact that she could have died out it. Somehow, at the same time, she was also wondering where she stood with Steve and Nancy. Everything changed that night. Nancy and Barb could no longer deny that there was something between them. They always played it off as practicing but now that they went all the way with each other and also with Steve. Does that mean that Steve is her boyfriend and Nancy was her girlfriend? She couldn't help but giggle at the thought. She always figured that she would never have a boyfriend but now, maybe, she did. It was Steve Harrington of all people.

"Hey," Nancy said shyly as she slid into her car.

After getting ready, she went to pick Nancy up again. The car ride was silent until Nancy told her to stop.

"Nancy, what - "

She was cut off by Nancy kissing her. Barb was surprised for a moment, but she eagerly kissed her back. God, she wanted to pull her into her lap, and just - Nancy pulled away with a gasp.

"I just wanted to make sure that no one saw us," Nancy said.

Barb smiled at her as she took her hand and drove off. They ended up parking behind Eddie Munson's van, and a few minutes later, Steve found them. He made sure no one was watching before popping his head through the window to give Barb a kiss and then Nancy before letting them get out of the car. Steve shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I ditched Tommy and Carol," he said.

"Really?" Barb asked.

"Well, life is too short for me to be dragged down by those two idiots. I found something better for me, I think," Steve said. "Honestly, after what happened last night, it seems dumb to worry about popularity and all that when there's a monster out there."

"Well, it's good you got some perspective," Barb said. "And honestly, you're not the only one who's ever worried about that shit. There was a small part of me who wished that some of those people would acknowledge me a little."

"Really?" Steve and Nancy asked.

"Don't be so surprised," Barb said. "Come on, I don't want to be late for class."

"Great, and during lunch, we can talk about what to do about the monster with a flower for a head and teeth like a shark," Steve said. "Can't believe those words came out of my mouth."

"Well, it hates chlorine. That's one thing we know about it," Barb said.

As the three of them walked away, a confused Eddie Munson popped his head out of his van.

"Did Steve Harrington give up his crown to play D&D?" Eddie asked. "What the fuck kind of monster is he talking about? No, no, I'm hearing things again."

It was a tame sort of day compared to last night. It was still sort of an out of body experience to be hanging out with Steve knowing what they did. It made Barb blush when Steve and Nancy thought about it, too, sending her soft, knowing smiles her way. Tommy and Carol were petty bitches, trying to get under their skin all day but they ignored them. . .for the most part.

"So, Wheeler," Tommy said, slamming his hands onto the cafeteria table. "What is your ideal of a perfect date?"

"Watching you get hit by a bus," Nancy said.

Barb and Steve nearly choked on their milk. They cleared their throats, looking amused as Tommy's face started to turn different shades of red. Carol glared at her.

"How pathetic - ," Tommy started to say.

"I don't know, Tommy, how pathetic are you?" Barb asked. "I mean, I assume that's what you were going to say considering that you are being pathetic."

"You little - "

"Don't you finish that sentence," Nancy glared at him.

"You think you're so much better than us, but considering how easy it was to spread your legs for Stevie here last night, you're not really," Carol told Nancy.

"At least we actually like Steve. Do you even like spending time with him or listening to anything he has to say, or do you just like what he does for your image?" Barbara asked. "You can't stand on your own, so you use Steve like a crutch."

"Steve doesn't need you, but you need Steve," Nancy said. "And now that Steve doesn't want anything to do with you, you think that you can come over here and try to fuck with us until we leave."

"Well, we're not fucking leaving so find someone else's ass to bury your nose in," Barb said.

"Whatever," Tommy said. "Stevie-boy, running away like a fucking coward like always. You can't even stand up for yourself. You have to have these ugly bitches to protect you. You're not going to find anything better than us, and when you eventually get bored with them, we're not going to be here to save your sorry ass."

"They're better than you'll ever be, and if you think I'm ashamed of them fighting for me, then you're as stupid as you look. I know what it's like for people to really have your back, to care. . .one day, you're going to wake up and realize that you've cared about all the wrong things. You're going to look even more pathetic and stupid than you do right now. You'll be as ugly on the outside as you are on the inside. You'll look in the mirror and realize that you had your chance but you fucked it up. I'm tired of waiting for you to be the old Tommy that I used to know, the one who actually gave a damn. Being friends with these two, I have better odds at not hating myself in the future than you do. What are your odds, Tommy?" Steve snapped.

Tommy scowled at him, his face bright red, and angry tears filled his eyes. He didn't have anything else left to say, so he stormed off, dragging Carol with him.

"That was hot," Barb said.

"That really was," Nancy agreed.

They nudged their feet with Steve’s and he smiled at them.

"You two weren't so bad yourselves," Steve grinned, and the smile slipped from his face. "I don't really feel like going to the game this afternoon. I don't know if I can go home either knowing what might be waiting for me."

"Well, maybe we can go over to my house this evening. My brother could use some company. And if you're scared of going home, maybe Mom will let me keep you in my basement," Nancy joked.

"I always did like the idea of being a kept man," Steve said.

"Eddie Munson is staring at you," Barb said.

"Probably wondering how I got so lucky with you two," Steve said with a charming smile.

"No need to strain yourself, Steve," Barb teased. "You've got us."

They moved on to discussing what they were going to do about the monster and whether or not it wasn't just a shared delusion between them. It was decided that it wasn't. The rest of the day moved rather quickly, still without a plan for the creature that haunted all of them. When the end of the day came, they moved sluggishly out into the parking lot. All three of them were exhausted from not getting much sleep last night. They almost didn't notice Nicole approaching them.

"Nancy, Barb, I'm so glad I found you," Nicole said. "I want you to know, first off, that I'm not going to say anything. I have a cousin who's like that, and I would never say a word."

"What are you talking about?" Nancy asked.

"Were you aware that Jonathan Byers was at your house last night?" Nicole asked Steve.

"What? No," Steve said.

"Well, I went into the dark room, and Jonathan was developing photos of your house. You and Tommy were in the pool with Carol and Nancy. Then there was a picture taken of your bedroom. Nancy was taking off her shirt, and so was Barb. You were kissing."

Barb felt her stomach plummet. Her worst nightmare and Nancy's. Well, one of them, anyway. Fuck. Normally, she wouldn't care about what others think, but this was different. If this got out, it could be dangerous for her and Nancy.

"Son of a bitch!" Steve yelled and then he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Thanks for telling us, Nicole."

Barb turned to Nancy, who was quiet, her eyes downcast as she crossed her arms over her chest. She was clearly uncomfortable by the thought of what Jonathan did and Barb hated him for it.

"Yeah, thank you, Nicole. We'll take care of it," Barb said.

Nicole smiled sympathetically at Nancy and walked away.

"You know how many times I defended Jonathan to Tommy whenever they had something shitty to say about Jonathan and his family?" Steve asked, his jaw clenched.

"Yeah, I figured that out when you told Tommy off yesterday when he was saying all that shit about his missing brother," Barb said and then muttered, "I thought he was a nice guy."

"Okay, one problem at a time!" Nancy exclaimed, and then she paused. "Wait, the photos. . . What else do you think he got a picture of?"

"I don't know. . .Tommy and Carol going at it in my parents' bed?" Steve asked.

"No, think again," Nancy said.

"The monster!" Barb and Steve gasped.

"Let's go find the creep," Nancy said.

It didn't long to find him making his way to his car. He looked startled to see all three of them together.

"Where are the pictures you took last night?" Nancy asked, her arms still crossed.

Barb knew how much Steve wanted to step in. She wanted to as well, but she felt like Nancy needed to handle this herself. She took his hand, squeezing it affectionately. God, his hands were huge. Suddenly, she recalled the way they squeezed her thighs last night. Right, focus.

"What photos?" Jonathan asked, his face turning a paler shade of white.

"You know exactly what photos that I am talking about, asshole," Nancy spat.

Nancy had that fire still inside her from earlier, and she was using it now.

"I didn't - " Jonathan stuttered as he held his bag closer to him.

Before Jonathan knew it, Nancy had yanked the bag from him. She rifled through it and pulled out the photos victoriously. Nancy shoved the bag at him and started looking through the pictures. Barb peered over her should and paled at the sight of herself shirtless as she kissed Nancy. Now, she was uncomfortable. She felt Steve squeeze her hand.

"I - I was looking for my brother," Jonathan stuttered.

"No, this is called stalking," Steve said, looking at him in disbelief.

"I'm sure that it started out like that," Barb scoffed at Jonathan.

"Do you know how stupid it was that you developed these on school property? I mean, you could have locked the fucking door or something?!" Nancy asked furiously. "What would have happened if this had gotten out?"

Barb suddenly realized what Nancy was doing. She was protecting Barb this time instead of the other way around.

"I didn't think about that," Jonathan said.

"Clearly," Nancy scoffed.

"I just thought it was a good picture," he said meekly. "There was this girl who was trying to be someone else."

"That's bullshit!" Nancy and Barb exclaimed.

"You know, I thought that once, too. I thought Nancy was trying to be someone she wasn't. I realized that I was wrong. The simple fact is that she wanted to sleep with Steve, and eventually, I realized that I wanted to as well. I realized how exciting it was to explore a side of yourself that you didn't know was there. There's nothing artistic about the pictures that you took. You fucked up so you're trying to say anything to make you feel better about what you did. Steve didn't make us do anything that we didn't want to," Barb said. "I thought you were the kind of guy who would never do something like this."

"I'm sorry," Jonathan said.

"Well, I'm taking these photos," Nancy said and paused before snatching his camera as well. "I'm also taking this, and I will think about giving it back to you when I feel like you earned it."

"You want me to write an essay, too?" Jonathan scoffed.

"Come to think, yeah, you definitely should," Barb said. "Write until your fingers bleed. I want an in-depth analysis of why you thought it was okay to do that. . .I mean, after you find your brother safe and sound because I do get that you're going through something."

The three of them walked back to Barb's car with the camera and the photos in Nancy's hand.

"God, I wanted to smash his camera," Steve said.

"Yeah, so did I. Do you think he understands how close he came to outing us?" Barb asked.

"I mean, he did out us, but thankfully, Nicole is a decent person," Nancy said. "And I kind of wanted to smash it, too."

"Do you think we should tell him we're probably not going to bring the photos to the police?" Barb asked. "His mother has been through enough."

"Nah, let him sweat and think we are," Steve said grinning.

"Thank you for letting us handle that," Nancy said to Steve.

"Well, I thought about what Barb said about supporting my decision with Tommy and Carol. . .thought maybe I should do the same," Steve said, blushing.

"Oh, you're cute," Barb said.

"Yeah, how cute am I?" Steve asked.

"Get in the car, and I'll show you how cute I think you are," Barb said.

"Really?" Nancy asked, smiling at the two of them.

"Totally your fault, Nance, you showed me a new side of myself, and I like it," Barb said. "I like Steve."

"I like you, too," Steve said.

"Okay, well, let's focus on the photos," Nancy said and slapped the photo on the hood of Barb's car. "We got our proof."

There, in the photo, was the monster sniffing around the lawn chairs. It was hard to tell from the photo that Jonathan clearly accidentally took, but it was there.

"So, now, what?" Steve asked.

"Go home, and come up with a plan," Nancy said.

They jumped when they heard someone approaching them, and they whirled around, covering the photo. It was just Eddie Munson.

"We're not doing anything illegal!" Steve blurted out.

"Right," Eddie grinned. "I'm not a cop, you know."

"Obviously," Steve scoffed.

"Or maybe I am. Might be an undercover cop," Eddie said, twirling his keys in his hand. "Might have to arrest you on suspicion alone."

"Yeah, good luck with that," Steve replied. "And I might have believed that if I didn't remember you from middle school and just so you know, I'm really good at getting myself out of cuffs."

"Yeah, I bet you are, big boy," Eddie said, winking, got into his van, and drove off.

Barb and Nancy looked at Steve, scoffing.

"Really?"

"What?" Steve asked.

"Flirting with someone else right in front of us," Barb said.

"Classy, Steve," Nancy said.

"What? No! He means nothing to me!" Steve exclaimed. "And I didn't even know I was flirting with him! . . . You guys are messing with me, aren't you?"

Nancy and Barb giggled as they got into her car.

"Classy!"

Steve pulled up behind Barb in Nancy's driveway and followed after them into the house. Mrs. Wheeler greeted them at the door, chasing after Holly.

"Oh, hey, Barb, does your parents know you're here?" Mrs. Wheeler asked.

"I let them know before we left school," Barb said.

"And who is this?" Karen asked.

"Larry!" Holly exclaimed, hugging her leg.

"Oh, honey, I'm sure he came with his own name," Karen said. "He's not a stray cat."

"I'm Steve Harrington," he smiled. "But Holly can call me whatever she wants to."

"Larry!" She yelled. "I like your hair."

"I like yours, too," Steve said.

Holly giggled and ran off towards her room.

"Steve, is it?" Mrs. Wheeler asked. "Hm, that name sounds familiar."

"I'm sorry, mom," Nancy said. "I totally lied to you. Steve is my boyfriend. We just started dating, I didn't want to freak him out by introducing him to you so soon."

"You've got amazing daughters, Mrs. Wheeler," Steve said. "And Nancy's been treating me really great. Very respectful. I like her a lot."

"We like her too," Mrs. Wheeler said. "Well, sometimes."

"Mom!" Nancy exclaimed.

"Nancy, you didn't tell me your mom was so funny!" Steve laughed.

"She likes to think she is," Nancy muttered.

"No, Mrs. Wheeler is definitely hilarious," Barb said.

"Thank you, Barbara," Mrs. Wheeler said.

"They offered to help me study, I'm having difficulty in Chemistry," Steve said.

"Oh, well, you definitely came to the right people," Mrs. Wheeler said. "Do your parents know where you are?"

"Well, uh, my parents are out of town," Steve said. "I couldn't get a hold of them earlier."

"And is anyone staying with you?" Mrs. Wheeler asked with a frown.

"Just me," Steve said.

"Give me their number, I'll call them," Mrs. Wheeler said. "I'll also call Claudia Henderson and see if she'll be happy to take you in. I'm sure she will be."

Barb knew that look. It was the same determined look that Nancy had. She tried not to laugh when Steve immediately gave her the number. Nancy rolled her eyes at Steve's dumbfounded look before dragging them upstairs.

"What is she going to say to parents?" Steve asked.

"You probably don't want to know," Barb replied.

Steve threw himself onto Nancy's bed and grabbed the teddy bear on her bed, holding it to his chest.

"You really like that bear," Nancy said as she closed her door.

"It reminds me of the one I used to have. My grandfather gave it to me," Steve said.

"You don't have it anymore?" Barb asked.

"Nah, my dad gave it away because he said I was too old for it," Steve said.

"The more I hear about your dad. . .," Barb trailed off.

"The more you want to smash his camera?" Steve asked and Barb laughed.

She crawled onto the bed and leaned her back against the headboard. She pulled Steve to her chest and Steve sighed happily as he snuggled into her. Nancy laid down next to Barb.

"Okay, what's our plan?" Nancy asked.

"I don't know, I can't really think right now," Steve said. "I'm suddenly very sleepy."

"Well, we didn't get very much sleep last night," Barb smirked.

"We definitely didn't," Steve said.

"We have to come up with a plan, there's a monster out there," Nancy said. "We need to keep ourselves awake."

"I thought I was a lesbian," Barb said. "Until last night. Kind of thought Nancy was too."

"I thought I was too," Nancy giggled.

"Maybe we are lesbians but we're also stevesexual," Barb said.

"Oh, you're definitely stevesexual," Steve replied.

"That is NOT a word," Nancy laughed.

"Newsflash, Nance, all words are made up," Barb replied. "Lesbians existed before the word existed."

"You're definitely tired, Barbara," Nancy replied.

"No, no, she's onto something. I mean, you can call yourself anything," Steve said.

"I could call myself a pineapple if I wanted to," Barb teased.

"You can't!" Nancy giggled.

"Why the hell not?" Barb asked.

"Because I hate pineapples and I definitely don't hate you," she said.

"Hm, I guess I can't call myself a pineapple," Barb said and kissed Nancy. "I guess I only care about what's on the inside."

"Me too," Nancy said.

"You both have sexy hearts," Barb said, yawning.

"Yeah, we definitely need a nap," Nancy said.

"A real nap?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, a real nap, Steven."

When they woke up, it was dark outside, and Nancy's bedroom door was wide open. Mrs. Wheeler had been in here. The three of them wandered downstairs to find Mrs. Wheeler standing in the entryway, hugging Mike as he cried.

"Mom? Did they find Will?" Nancy asked and Mike's sobs grew louder.

The next morning was a somber affair, and the three of them stood in the parking lot before school once again.

"I had hoped that they wouldn't have found him like that," Barb said.

"Yeah, me too," Steve said.

"I should have stayed, but Mike insisted that he was fine and that I should go to school," Nancy said. "I feel weird being here knowing how upset he is."

"Well, you want to skip, and we can go check on him?" Steve asked.

"That's a sweet offer, but I want to respect his space, too," Nancy said. "He'll come to me if he needs me. I let him know that I'll be there for him when he's ready."

"I never know what to say in situations like this. Everything feels like it's - " Steve started to say.

"Like it's not enough?" Barb asked.

"Yeah," Nancy said.

"Didn't your dad offer to do the same thing?" Barb asked.

"He did, according to mom. He's still dad," Nancy smiled.

"What does that mean?" Steve asked.

"Lately, he's been stuck in his chair and a lot more lethargic. I'm worried that he might have a tumor or something," Nancy said.

"Or maybe he's having a hard time at work," Barb suggested.

"Maybe," Nancy sighed. "So this monster. . .I'm starting to think that it might have something to do with Will's disappearance. I know they said he fell into the quarry, and maybe he did. . .or maybe he was chased into the quarry by something."

"Like the monster, you mean?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," Nancy said.

"Yeah, I can see that," Steve said. "I don't see us approaching Will's mom about this so. . ."

"That leaves Jonathan," Barb said, rolling her eyes. "This is so going to be so awkward. So, Steve, how was it staying with the Hendersons?"

"Well, Claudia is amazing. Dustin's a little shit but somehow, at the same time, it's endearing," Steve said, his face scrunched up in confusion.

"Congratulations, Steve, you just got yourself a bouncing baby brother," Nancy said. "It's both wonderful and stressful at the same time. You're going to love it."

When they did find Jonathan, he was picking out caskets for his brother. So, yeah, it's very awkward. She still hated him for what he did, but she was a big enough person to also feel sympathy for the situation that he was in. They pulled him into the entryway where Nancy showed him a picture of the monster.

"I thought my mom was crazy," Jonathan said. "She kept going on about a monster without a face, a monster in the walls, and I - I didn't believe her."

"You didn't know," Nancy said softly.

"All three of you saw it?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah, it was definitely gunning for Barb's blood," Steve said.

"Well, that's disturbing," Jonathan said.

Barb bit back a retort. He would know what's disturbing, wouldn't he?

"Okay, so, what do we do? Do we tell someone or try to kill it ourselves?" Barb asked.

"How would we kill it?" Jonathan asked. "We don't have anything. I mean, my dad has a Smith & Wesson."

"Well, we know Chlorine hurts the fucker. Fire generally kills most things," Barb said.

"I don't know if I can do this right now," Jonathan muttered.

"Well, that's understandable," Nancy said. "We can figure it out later."

"Do you mind - ?" Jonathan asked.

"Of course. Just let us know if you need anything," Nancy said.

"Thanks," Jonathan said. "I can do this by myself."

Nancy squeezed his arm and exited the funeral home with her partners.

"You're amazing, you know that?" Steve said to Nancy. "Even after everything he's done, you're still willing to help him."

"It's nothing," Nancy said, bashfully.

"You're a bigger person than I am," Barb grinned. "You and that sexy heart of yours."

"Okay, so, after the funeral tomorrow we gather the supplies and we hunt this fucker down," Nancy said. "Hopefully, we can get the gun from Jonathan."

"You're really determined to take this monster down," Barb said.

"It came after my brother's friend, and then it tried to come after you," Nancy said. "I want to kill it."

"I love you," Barb said.

The next day, Barb was getting dressed for Will's funeral when her mother entered her bedroom.

"So, you and Nancy have been hanging out with Steve Harrington lately," her mother said.

"Where are you going with this, mom?" Barb asked.

"Well, you've complained a lot about him in the past," she said.

"Turns out Tommy and Carol were the assholes," Barb said. "I made a snap judgment of him. He wasn't who I thought he was. . .in a good way, though."

"Well, we all sort of do it," she said.

"He dumped his supposed friends for us," Barb beamed.

"Well, I'm glad," she said.

"Okay, mom, what's this all about?" Barb asked.

"You know you can talk to us about anything, right?" She asked. "We'll always love you, no matter what. I'm not trying to push you into talking about anything. I just want you to know we're here for you whenever you're ready."

"Okay, mom, what do you know?" Barb asked.

"What? Me? I don't know anything," she said innocently.

"Mom! Do you know about me, Steve, and Nancy?" Barb asked.

"Oh, well, yes," She said.

"It's only been like three days!" Barb exclaimed.

"And you were very obvious, dear," she said. "With the way you talked about them. We've known about you and Nancy even longer, and we were alright with it. I mean, we figured you girls would share everything, although we never expected an entire person."

"So, what? Like half a person, then?" Barb asked sarcastically.

"Barbara!" She chuckled.

"Why are you saying this now?" Barb asked.

"Well, we wanted to wait and give you time to come to us on your own, but with Will dying. . .you never know how much time you have left with your children. We both wanted you to feel accepted," She said.

"Oh, mommy," she said softly. "I love you so much. . .where's dad?"

"I promised myself I wouldn't cry!" Her father's voice floated in from the hallway.

"He started crying before we even came in here," she said. "He loves you so much."

"This was supposed to be all about you, I did not want to make it about myself again!" Her father sobbed.

"Daddy, get in here!" Barb laughed.

Her father shuffled in, his face red from crying. She smiled and hugged her father tightly. God, she had the best parents in the world. Her mother clapped and quickly joined the hug. She shouldn't be this happy going to a funeral, especially for a kid. She couldn't help but smile at the sight of the Steve and Nancy. She quickly made herself look sad, though, as she stood beside them. She looked at Joyce and Jonathan. God, they looked so heartbroken. . .so lost. Joyce was glaring at the casket as if she didn't believe what was in there. Maybe it wasn't Will. Maybe somehow he was still alive somewhere, maybe it was a fake body lying in that coffin. Barb wanted it to he true for Joyce's sake.

"I want to kill it," Jonathan said.

They had gathered together after the funeral to talk about what they were going to do. Nancy had brought a map to look to track where the monster might be going.

"Are you sure?" Nancy asked.

"Yes," Jonathan said.

"What about your mom?" Barb asked.

"I'll tell her after this thing is dead," Jonathan said.

After the funeral, they all got dressed and ran off to gather more supplies. Jonathan had managed to steal his father's gun, but they still needed a bigger arsenal. Nancy managed to bring her bat from home, and Barb managed to swipe a couple of knives from her mother's collection.

"Your mother likes knives?" Steve asked Barb.

"Oh, yeah," Nancy laughed. "It's impressive, actually."

"So, you better not break my heart or Nancy's," Barb whispered.

"Noted," Steve laughed, and they moved through the aisle. "So, why aren't we telling an adult about this again?"

"My mom's not in the right headspace," Jonathan said.

"Are you in the right headspace?" Steve asked.

"I have to be," Jonathan said.

"Hm, I've had Dustin Henderson as a sort of brother for like five seconds, but I think I'd kill for him," Steve said. "I don't what it's like to have a brother, though I've always wanted one. I can imagine that it must be nice."

"How come you don't have a brother?" Jonathan asked.

"I asked my dad that once when I was like eight, and he said my gigantic head ruined my mother for him," Steve said.

"Jesus," Jonathan said.

"Yeah, I mean, it's not that big," Steve said.

"I'm talking about your dad. What an asshole," Jonathan said.

"Yeah, I never got why she's still with him," Steve said.

"Never really understood why my mom stayed with my dad for so long either," Jonathan said. "She's always said that sometimes good things come out of bad situations."

"Like you and your brother?" Steve asked.

"Oh, yeah, I guess she was talking about us," Jonathan said.

Barbara smiled at them, glad that Steve was making a better friend in Jonathan who actually seemed genuinely sorry that he took those photos. Still, he had a lot to prove. Once they got to the counter, the guy there looked at them funny.

"What are you guys planning to do with all this?" He asked.

"Monster hunting," Nancy replied.

Luckily, the guy thought it was a joke. . .or he really didn't want to know. Either way, they managed to get out of there without any more questions and quickly loaded it in the back of Steve’s car.

"It's weird. Just a few days ago, Barb and I were shopping to find a sweater that I thought that Steve would like," Nancy said.

"Really?" Steve asked.

"Oh, I told her that you probably wouldn't care," Barb said.

"Anything purple or pink, really," Steve said, and they looked at him. "It just seems like it's your favorite color. You like beam more when you wear them."

"Blue's one of my favorites, too," Nancy replied.

"So, what's the weirdest part about all of this? The monster hunting or hanging out with me?" Jonathan asked.

"Oh, definitely, you," Nancy, Barb, and Steve all laughed.

Jonathan was about to reply when someone drove by and stuck their head out the window to yell at them.

"Hey, Nance, I can't wait to see your movie!" And they didn't wait for a response.

"What the hell?" Steve asked.

They followed Nancy to the Hawk. Spray painted on the theater under "All the Right Moves" were the words written in spray paint: starring Nancy "the slut" Wheeler.

"Oh, someone's going to be dead," Barb scowled. "Or at least they wish they were."

They followed the sound of spray paints and laughter to the alleyway beside the theater. Of course, it was Tommy and Carol.

"Hey, assholes!" Steve yelled.

Things did not get better after that. Nancy slapped Tommy, Tommy said words to both Jonathan and Steve while Barb yelled at Carol for words she said about Nancy. Jonathan had thrown the first punch at Tommy, who swung back and knocked him on his ass before turning on Steve. He had Steve on the ground, who fought well, but Tommy fought harder. He kept hitting Steve even when Steve could barely get a word in. Nancy and Barb screamed, trying to get Tommy off of Steve. Jonathan managed to get back up and pulled Tommy off of Steve. He hit him and kept hitting him until Tommy was the one on his back. Jonathan didn't even notice that the cops had shown up, and he accidentally hit one. That's how they all ended up at the police station.

"Steve, are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" Barb asked as she held ice to his eye.

"I'm fine, really," Steve said. "I just want to make sure that Jonathan doesn't go to jail."

"Thanks, man, but you don't have to do that," Jonathan said.

"Nah, I'm good," Steve said. "Really."

"That lady doesn't know what she's talking about," Nancy told Jonathan as she did the same with his eye.

"Yeah, you punched the douche because he was insulting your family," Steve said, and then he frowned. "I wonder if that would have been me, you know, if things hadn't changed, you know, if I hadn't walked away from them. . ."

"You can't think of the what ifs, Steve," Barb said. "They'll eat you alive, but you would have gotten there eventually, and you wouldn't have been nearly as cruel as Tommy."

"I do have to admit that you're a good guy," Jonathan mumbled.

"Coming from Jonathan Byers, that's a compliment," Steve smiled. "I think, anyway. . .you're not entirely bad yourself."

"I really am sorry about the photos, you know, and my reaction to taking them. . .there's really no excuse," Jonathan said.

"Well, you really proved yourself back there," Nancy said.

"You totally did," Barb said.

"Saved my ass, man," Steve said.

"Does that mean that I'll get my camera back?" He asked.

"You still have an essay to write," Nancy said.

"You're serious about that?" He asked.

"Oh, yeah," Barb and Nancy said, giggling.

"Why is my son in cuffs?!" They heard Joyce Byers yell. "Take them off!"

"He assaulted a police officer, ma'am," Callahan said.

"Take them off! Now!" Joyce yelled at them, Chief Hopper coming in behind her.

"You heard her, take them off," Hopper said.

Callahan sighed and took the cuffs off of Jonathan.

"There's something you should see, Chief," Powell said.

Barb shared a look with the others. Shit, they were going to look in the trunk. Powell led Hopper outside, and a moment later, they came back, looking even more serious.

"Care to explain why you have all of that?" Hopper asked Jonathan.

"You won't believe us," he said.

"Why don't you give us a try?" Hopper asked.

Barb, Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan squeezed into the chief's office, away from prying eyes. Hopper was looking at the photo of the monster.

"And this thing is drawn to blood?" Hopper asked.

"Well, that's the theory," Nancy said. "Not really a theory, I guess, because it smelled Barb's blood and tried to go after her. It would have, too, if it hadn't fallen into the pool."

"And if I hadn't been hanging out with Steve and Nancy inside," Barb said.

"Is this the only photo?" Hopper asked.

"The only photo of the monster," Nancy replied as she shoved Jonathan's camera and the other photos into her bag.

"Why does Nancy have your camera?" Joyce asked.

"I'm letting her borrow it for a school project," Jonathan said, blushing, and Joyce looked at him doubtfully.

"Let's go talk in the hallway," Joyce said and pulled him out of the room.

"You do realize that it was unbelievable dangerous to try and go after this thing by yourselves?" Hopper asked.

"Yeah, we always knew that, but it didn't seem like anyone was trying to stop this thing, and honestly, I wanted to get it before it got me or anyone else I cared about," Barb said.

"I definitely wasn't going to let it get Barb," Nancy said.

"Me neither. . .also, there is no way that I was going to be able to sleep in that empty house with that thing on the loose," Steve said.

"Empty? Where are your parents?" Hopper asked.

"Oh, out of town," Steve said.

"Did they say when they'll be back?" He asked.

"I don't know. That kind of depends on whether my dad cheats on my mom again," Steve said. "If he does, they usually stay longer."

"Are you expecting a call from them anytime soon?" Hopper asked.

"When they can remember to, they'll call, so no," Steve said, and Hopper clenched his fists. "Did I say something wrong?"

Hopper sighed, unclenched his fists, and squeezed Steve’s shoulders gently.

"No, kid, you didn't," Hopper said.

"We should definitely make you staying with Claudia a permanent thing," Nancy said.

"I'm definitely going to look into that," Hopper said.

"Shouldn't we be focusing on the monster?" Steve asked, blushing.

It wasn't hard to figure out that the girl with the powers that Joyce and Hopper had been looking for was with Nancy's brother and his friends. When they showed up to Nancy's house, there were tons of vans parked out front and people in suits searching the place. Nancy moved towards her house, but Barb and Steve grabbed her hands.

"That's my house!" Nancy exclaimed.

"They haven't found him yet," Steve said.

"That's true. Look, Nance," Barb said, pointing at the helicopters. "They're still looking for him.

"They're right," Hopper said.

"All that's for Mike?" Nancy asked, stunned.

"Do you have any idea where they might go?" Joyce asked them.

"No," Jonathan said. "But I know how we might find out."

Barb and Nancy went with Steve in his car while Jonathan went off with his parents. Jonathan might as well call Hopper his dad, Barb thought. Jonathan looked at Hopper like he was the first man who came through for him in his entire life, and he was doing it all to help his family. It was a shock when they showed up to the Byer home to find it a complete mess with a hole in the wall and Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling. Joyce had been really desperate to find her son. Not that Barb had blamed her, considering the lengths that Nancy was going to in order to keep her safe. They managed to make contact with the kids, and the rest of them stayed behind while Hopper went to pick up the kids. When they finally returned, night had fallen. Barb watched with a smile as Nancy ran out to greet her brother.

"Steve!" Dustin exclaimed and ran to him, hugging him as tightly as Nancy hugged Mike.

"Looks like someone made an impression," Barb teased Steve and then turned to Dustin. "And if you're lucky, you might get to keep him."

"Cool! I always wanted an older brother! What happened to your face?" Dustin asked.

"My former friend Tommy didn't like that I started hanging out with people who are cooler than he is," Steve said.

"What a mouth breather," Dustin scowled.

"You said it," Steve grinned and placed his hand on his head. "Glad you're okay."

They all moved into the house where the boys explained to them about the Upside Down and how El was able to get a glimpse into the other world with her powers. It angered Barb to no end that this girl had been raised in a lab her entire life and experimented on. That was the only life she had ever known, and she had been taken from her mother in order to be turned into a weapon. As a babysitter and a human being, she couldn't understand how people could do that. . .use children as a weapon for their own cruel reasons. The difference here, with them using El, was that they made sure El knew what she was getting into and that it was her choice to do this. It was how they ended up at the middle school, preparing a homemade deprivation tank for El's power.

"It's crazy what you kids went through," Steve said to Mike as he went with him, Nancy, and Barb to grab the hoses. "I would have been terrified. How high does your IQ have to be to have outrun those suits?"

"It was a group effort," Mike shrugged.

"No, you're definitely smart," Barb said. "But you also got lucky like we did. We could have definitely used you on our team."

Barb could feel Nancy smiling at both her and Steve. She just wanted to let Mike know that he should probably contact them next time without telling out right that he needed a babysitter.

"I thought you hated Steve, Barb," Mike said.

"Well, I just didn't know him," Barb said. "Plus, there's nothing like a nine foot tall monster with a flower face to really bring you together."

And there really wasn't. Oh, she wished Mike wasn't looking so she could kiss both Steve and Nancy. Nancy picked up a rock and smashed open the lock to the shed. Using a wheelbarrow, they pushed the hoses up back to the school.

"So, do you like El now?" Nancy asked.

"What?! Ew! No, gross!" Mike scowled and Steve laughed. "Do you like Jonathan now?"

"What?! No! We-I'm dating Steve," Nancy said.

Barb shared an amused smile with Steve. It was going to come out eventually, but maybe now wasn't the best time. Barb knew how much Nancy cared about Mike and his friends. They had spent many occasions babysitting them together. She remembered when Nancy had dressed up for their D&D game once. She had remembered it so vividly because she remembered the way Mike's eyes shined when his big sister, whom he looked up to, did that for him. Mike and Nancy were so different but also so alike in so many ways. Barb could see that Steve was starting to pick up on the fact that Nancy cared about these kids. She could see it in Steve's eyes: the admiration for the drive and the compassion that Nancy had. The fact that he could also see that she wasn't perfect either and that she tried to be. In that aspect, Nancy and Steve were alike. Barb couldn't help but watch Steve look at Nancy so fondly.

"Do I have something on my face?" Steve asked, and she glanced away for a moment.

"Skin, moles," Barb replied. "Lots of moles."

"Haha, hilarious," Steve said.

"You're good," Barb smiled.

Steve smiled and brushed his shoulder against hers, letting their fingers touch for a moment. They walked back into the gym and helped set up the tank. Barb sat down in between Steve and Nancy, watching as El was lowered down into the pool. Barb squeezed both of their hands as they awaited to see what El found. She hoped they found that little boy, and Barb chose to focus on that rather than the fact it could have been her in there as well. The lights flickered as El continued to search for the boy and even more so when she found him alive, but barely hanging on. It was a rush for Chief Hopper and Joyce to run off towards the lab to enter the gate through the Upside Down. Jonathan had tried to go with them, but Joyce had pleaded with them to stay.

Barb had wandered back into the gym to find the kids huddled up together on the bleachers. Barb smiled at the sight of El resting her head on Mike's shoulder while Lucas patted her back, making sure the towel was secure around her shoulders, while Dustin reached over to squeeze her knee. It looked like El was going to get to some great friends out of this and maybe even a family, too. Judging by the way that Hopper and Joyce had guided her, Barb had a feeling that they were somehow going to end up as El's parents. She wandered over to them.

"How are you guys holding up?" Barb asked.

"You are Barbara," El said.

"Yeah, but you can call me Barb," she replied.

"Barb," she said, and then she pointed at herself. "El."

"I know, it was pretty cool what you did back there. You did a very good thing even though you didn't have to," Barb said.

"I had to," El said.

"Nancy said the demogorgon almost came after you," Mike said.

"Well, I cut my hand, and I guess some of it dropped by the pool," Barb frowned. "It was drawn by that tiny drop. I'm just thankful it fell in the pool."

"And that you were hanging out with Steve and Nancy. What were you guys doing, anyway?" Mike asked.

"Oh, you know, speaking of Steve and Nancy. I, uh, I'm going to see what they're doing," Barb said, blushing. "I'll be back."

Bullet dodged. Hopefully, they'll forget that question when she gets back. She wandered towards the entrance of the gym, where she found Nancy talking with Jonathan and Steve.

"What did I miss?" Barb asked.

"Nancy wants to finish off the demogorgon," Steve replied.

"It needs to die. Even if we can't kill it, we can at least distract it so it doesn't go after Hopper and Joyce in the Upside Down," Nancy replied.

"Yeah, okay, but what about the kids? They can't stay here by themselves. Those assholes could come back for them at any time," Steve said.

"Well, it's Jonathan's house, so maybe I should go with Jonathan and Steve if you want to stay here with the kids. . .yeah, they definitely need someone looking out for them," Nancy said.

"And Steve will need help looking after the kids. I'll stay here," Barb said.

"Are you sure?" Nancy asked.

"About as sure as you are about killing this thing," Barb said.

"It came after you, Barbara, I'm not going to let it do it again," Nancy said.

Barb smiled and kissed her. Nancy smiled against her lips and wrapped her arms around her neck, deepening the kiss. Barb pulled her in closer, her hands gripping Nancy's waist. She tried not to cry and tried not to think that this might be their last kiss. They pulled away, and Nancy leaned her forehead against Barb's for a moment before pulling her out of her arms. They gave Steve the baseball bat and the box of nails with a hammer.

"We got more and another bat in the trunk. Go nuts," Jonathan said.

Steve grinned and nodded at him. Nancy moved in front of him.

"Be careful, look after each other," Nancy said.

"You, too," Steve said.

Nancy kissed him as desperately as she kissed Barb, and Steve nearly dropped the stuff in his arms. He managed to kiss her back. Nancy pulled away before climbing into the car with Jonathan. Barb stood next to Steve as they watched him drive away. Barb turned to him.

"It was really great that you were worried about the kids," Barb said.

"Well, they shouldn't have to go through this alone," Steve said.

Barb studied him. She imagined a young Steve home by himself, wondering when his parents would remember to call. . .wondering when they would decide to be there for him.

"No, they shouldn't," Barb said.

She took the stuff out of his arms and set them on the floor. She grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. She wrapped her arms around him, kissing him just as deeply as she kissed Nancy. Steve pulled back and pressed his forehead against Barb's.

"She's going to be okay," Steve said.

"I know," Barb whispered.

"Oh my god! You guys really do share everything!" They heard Mike yell, and they both laughed.

Barb ushered Mike inside with the other kids. Steve immediately went to work hammering in the nails in the bat. The kids had crowded around Steve, watching him work. Steve held up the bat when he was finished.

"What do you think?" Steve asked.

"Awesome!" Lucas, Mike, and Dustin exclaimed.

"Yeah, awesome," El breathed.

Steve moved away from them, twirled the bat, and started practicing his swinging. He started doing all sorts of things with it. He dove, he dodged, and weaved as though he was fighting off an invisible force. The kids clapped and cheered when he rolled across the gym floor, jumping up to swing the bat like the demogorgon was there. Steve came to a stop, leaned on his bat, and winked at Barb. She rolled her eyes, smiling. He was clearly showing off for the kids.

"I'm not impressed," Barb teased. "You're such a dork."

"What? No, Barb! That was totally cool!" Lucas exclaimed.

"Don't you think Steve’s a douchebag?" Mike asked Lucas.

"Not anymore," Lucas said.

"Anyone could do that," Mike rolled his eyes.

"Bullshit, Mike! You couldn't do that!" Dustin exclaimed. "Just admit that it was cool. He's a total paladin."

"Okay, I'd admit that it was cool, but I'm not going to call him a paladin," Mike said.

"You guys are hilarious," Steve said. "Definitely a lot cooler than I am."

The kids ended up dragging Steve and Barb into the cafeteria to pilfer the pudding the lunch lady had been hoarding.

"You're not going to tell on us?" Dustin asked Barb.

"Why would I?" Barb asked as she swiped a pudding cup. "If we're going to die, might as well die with pudding in our stomachs."

"That's the spirit," Dustin grinned. "I keep telling Mike you're the coolest babysitter ever. He's such a pessimist."

"Nancy can be a little pessimist herself," Barb smiled.

"Steve, if you really want to learn how to be a really cool babysitter, Barb knows," Dustin said and walked off.

"Did you hear that? You're a really cool babysitter," Steve said bumping her hip with his.

"You're not so bad yourself. You'll get there with a little help," Barb grinned.

They had only a moment of peace before the assholes from the lab found them. They dropped the pudding cups, and Barb led the kids down the hallway with Steve behind them all. She had her knives out, prepared to stab anyone in case they decided to come after the kids. Steve had his trusty bat in his hands. They got as far as they could, but the bad men had them covered on either side of the hallway. They had guns. Barb and Steve stood on either side of the kids, back to back practically. A woman moved forward and Barb didn't hestitate to take a slice off that bitch. The woman didn't hesitate to pistol whip Barb, knocking her glasses off of her face.

"Barb!" Steve hollered.

El moved forward, focusing on the agents, and the lights flickered over head. Blood trickled from El's nose at the same time that blood started pouring the bad mens' eyes, noses, and mouths. Their necks snapped at the same time, and they fell to the ground in unison. Head still ringing, Barb quickly picked up her glasses and put them back on her face as El collapsed.

"El!" Barb exclaimed and moved to her side.

That's when he showed up. A man with white hair who was tall and very forboding. A chill shot down Barb's back at the sight of him. He was just as terrifying as the demogorgon. Steve rushed to Barb's side but was grabbed and held by an agent at the same time that Barb was grabbed by another one. They fought hard against their grips as they took Barb's knives and held Steve's bat. Barb noted with a smile that one of their leg's was bleeding heavily. Steve had gotten one of them with the bat. The white-haired man approached El and cradled her in his arms.

"Papa," El muttered.

"Let her go, you son of a bitch! She's not your property. She's a human being, and she doesn't deserve to be treated ~," Barb started to say but was pistol whipped again.

"Don't you fucking hurt her!" Steve yelled and he was given the same treatment.

Barb could feel blood drip down from her forehead as Steve spat blood from his mouth. She yelled and yanked her head backward, butting the person in the face with it. He yelled, letting go of one of her arms, and she elbowed him in the stomach, making him let go of her other arm. She pulled the knives out of his belt and thrust it into his neck. He dropped to the ground just as another agent tried to grab for her but he froze when they all heard a loud growling sound. The agents let the kids and Steve go to pull out their guns. The white haired guy dropped El as the demogorgon appeared.

"Oh, shit," Steve yelled and grabbed his bat. "RUN!"

Steve hit the strange man in the leg and picked up El before he could, handing off the bat to Barb, who took it gladly. The kids took off ahead of them, and they ran into an empty classroom, slamming the door behind them to hide. Barb stood protectively in front of the kids and Steve as the demogorgon caught up with them. El wiggled out of Steve's arms and moved towards the monster, Mike screaming her name. She held out her hand and pushed the monster back with her powers, slamming it into the chalkboard. They watched as El destroyed the monster along with herself, nothing left behind but dark ash. Mike stood there, stunned as he looked at the disfigured chalkboard.

"Mike," Barb said softly as she stood up.

Mike threw himself into her arms, crying. El was dead, but so was the monster. Barb held Mike tightly, pressing her cheek into his hair as his entire body shook with sobs. Steve tentively walked up beside her, Dustin curled up against his side, and he placed a hand on Mike's shoulder. Lucas patted Mike on the back, sniffling as well.

"Physically. . . is everyone okay?" Steve asked.

"Better than you and Barb," Lucas said.

They moved through the school, making their way past the dead, bloody bodies, and out into the fresh air. Barb held Mike to her side, gripping Steve's bat in her hand. They weren't sure who had called them, but the ambulances and the cops had shown up pretty quickly. It wasn't long before their parents had shown up. . .well, everyone except Steve's.

"Barbara!" her mother shrieked. "Oh, look at you!"

Her parents hugged her tightly as Mike's parents did the same with him. Barb couldn't explain to her parents what had happened. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to explain anything except for the fact that Steve had helped save their lives.

"Barb! Where's Nancy?!" Karen asked and she snapped out of it.

"Jonathan's house," Barb replied.

"Dusty!" she could recognize Claudia Henderson's shriek from anywhere and then: "Steve!"

To Steve's surprise, Claudia had pulled him into a hug along with Dustin. Barb smirked. It looked like Steve was going to have a family that he always secretly wished he had. Barb frowned. That should be El, too, with Hopper and the Byers. . .did they find Will?

LATER. . .IN THE HOSPITAL. . .

Barb and the others met everyone there, including Nancy. Barb had pulled Nancy into a hug along with Steve while Jonathan stood off to the side.

"Hey! You, too! You're not getting out of this," Steve said to Jonathan.

"Me?" Jonathan asked.

Barb laughed as Steve rolled his eyes before pulling Jonathan into the group hug. Joyce laughed at the look on her son's face.

"The doctors are looking over Will now. It's probably going to be a while, so if you guys want to go home. . ." Joyce said.

"Nonsense, Joyce," Karen said. "We'll be here as long as you need us."

Nancy quickly pulled Steve, Jonathan, and Barb off to the side.

"Barb. . .your eye and forehead. . ." Nancy whispered.

"Oh, I totally killed that guy," Barb said.

"Yeah, no, she really killed him," Steve said, nodding at the look on Nancy's face.

"In other news, Mom's letting me keep her knives," Barb said.

"You totally pull them off," Steve muttered.

"And so, El is for sure. . ." Nancy trailed off.

"Yeah," Barb said, glancing at Mike. "It was awful."

"Poor Mike, she was the first girl he liked, I can't imagine watching that," Nancy said.

"He's going to need a lot of help," Steve said.

"Yeah," Jonathan said as they all looked at the kids. "We all are. . .uh, if you don't mind, I'm going to wait with my mom."

"Well, we'll be here," Barb said.

"Does this - does this mean we're friends?" Jonathan asked.

Barb studied him for a moment. She could see it in his eyes, how desperately he was trying to hide the hope he was feeling.

"Yeah, it does," Barb said.

"All of us," Steve said.

"We're still expecting that essay," Nancy said, her eyes twinkling.

"Whenever you're ready," Barb said.

Jonathan walked over to his mother and sat down next to her, holding her hand. Barb, Nancy, and Steve sat in the corner of the waiting room near Nancy's parents. Nancy and Barb leaned as close to Steve as possible, discreetly brushing their pinkies up against Steve’s. Barb glanced over at Nancy, who was resting her head on Steve’s shoulder. It's crazy how things changed. . . It was crazy how that image would have annoyed her, but now all it did was give her warm fuzzy feelings in her stomach. . .

SUMMER OF '84

Barb was sprawled out in Jonathan's room, Steve between her legs with his back to her chest, and his head tucked underneath her head. Nancy was holding his hand while Barb stroked his nose with her finger. It was a complete accident that they discovered that you could calm Steve Harrington down if you just stroked his nose. It also helped to look at the blanket that hung on Jonathan's wall. Something to do with the colors. Steve was peculiar, as it turns out, like they were. Jonathan walked into the room and handed him a glass of water.

"You know, my mom did these breathing exercises when she was giving birth to Will, if you need help with your own delivery," Jonathan said in amusement.

"Shut up, Byers," Steve said as he took a drink of water.

"With your legs spred like that, it does look like you're giving birth," Barb said with a giggle.

"Nancy, tell our girlfriend that she's supposed to be helping me," Steve said.

"Sorry," Nancy said.

"Some friends you are," Steve said and smiled. "I don't even know why I'm freaking out. My parents are getting divorced so, what?! I mean, this is what I wanted, right?"

"Well, change can be scary even if it's what you wanted," Nancy said. "I mean, you must have been scared when you finally dumped Tommy and Carol."

"That's true," Jonathan said. "I mean, even though I wanted Lonnie gone and out of the house, it wasn't like he was totally useless. He did bring some things to the table, and it was scary that we were being left with this vaccum that we didn't know how to fill. We did manage to find a way to work around it, though."

"I just don't want what I have now to disappear, you know. I want to keep living with Claudia and Dustin," Steve said.

"Does your mom seem like the kind of person to take you away from them?" Nancy asked.

"No, in fact, she likes coming over now, and it's totally weird having her around all the time," Steve said. "And I guess I just don't want to get my hopes up that she'll stay."

"Well, it's not crazy to worry about that either," Nancy said. "I'm sure it's an adjustment."

"I'm sure it's going to work out and if your mom does try to take you away, we'll just kidnap you and bring you back," Barb said.

"Aw, you'll break the law for me?" Steve said.

"I think all of us would," Nancy said.

"Tommy and Carol never would have broken the law for me," Steve said.

"Their loss is our gain," Barb said.

Barb actually liked him like this, just utterly and completely melting into their arms. No one but them knew what Steve Harrington was really like, not even Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins. Steve wanted to be soft and small. He never really wanted the attention. He just didn't want to be alone. Jonathan was similar, but he had pushed people away rather than surround himself by the wrong people. He had his graded essay hung up on the wall to remind himself what kind of person, of what kind of photogropher that he wanted to be along with pictures of his new friends.

"I guess I don't have anything to worry about," Steve said. "Thanks for letting me freak out. Tommy would have just told me to stop being a crybaby."

"You really like reminding us that we're better for you than Tommy and Carol, huh?" Nancy teased.

"Oh, yeah," Steve said. "You all are."

"Well, you've been there enough of all of our freak outs," Jonathan said. "We've promised to be there for each other so. . .we're here."

"Oh, speaking of my mother coming over all the time," Steve said. "She's also been talking to Claudia a lot."

"Well, we figured," Nancy said. "So, what did Claudia say to make Maggie realize she should have probably divorced that jackass a long time ago?"

"Maybe it was Claudia," Barb said. "Or maybe it was the fact that she had come home and realized that her son had moved out?"

"Maybe it was both," Steve said. "Anyway, Dustin told me that he saw something the other night that made him think that there might be something between my mom and his."

"Oh, that would be perfect," Nancy gasped. "You both would get two wonderful mothers, and maybe your mom would move in there!"

"It would be great, wouldn't it?" Steve asked.

"So, what was it that Dustin saw exactly?" Barb asked as she wrapped her arms around Steve.

"Well, he said it was the way they looked at each other," Steve said. "I think he just wants to have two mothers."

"And to keep his favorite brother around," Barb said.

"Maybe," Steve grinned. "So, right before school ended, I overheard a couple of jocks whispering about Eddie Munson. Apparently, it's a possibility that Higgins blackmailed Munson into dropping out, and that's why the jocks have been out for him as well as Hellfire."

"Well, apparently, he failed because Eddie's coming back next year," Jonathan said.

"Really?" Nancy asked. "And how do you know that?"

"I just know," Jonathan blushed.

"It has nothing to do with the weed that fell out of your bag earlier?" Steve asked.

"Okay, so maybe Eddie's been selling me weed, and we've been talking," Jonathan said.

"So, you're friends?" Nancy asked.

"He defended my brother against some mouthbreathers and took a baseball that was meant for him," Jonathan said, his face turning a deeper red.

"Oh, so, you want to be more than friends," Barb teased.

"I mean, maybe, he is cute," Jonathan said.

"And it definitely doesn't hurt that he stuck up for your brother," Steve said.

"It's a huge plus," he said.

"Well, it sounds like Higgins has it out for your boyfriend," Steve said.

"We should definitely do something about that," Nancy said.

"Ooh, does this sound like a case for the monster hunting squad?" Barb asked.

"Ooh, I love Nancy Drew," Steve said. "It's perfect. Jonathan and Nancy are already on the paper. Maybe we should join, too, Barb?"

"And what would you do on the paper?" Barb teased.

"Hey, I could learn to be a sports writer," Steve said.

"That's true," Barb said thoughtfully.

"That could work," Nancy said. "Especially, when you start asking questions in the locker room."

Nancy got up and grabbed a journal off of Jonathan's desk. She plopped down in between Steve's leg and leaned against his chest.

"Alright. . .let's get to work, we have a mystery to solve. . ."

[yourlovelywriter]

Bound by violet

Okay have mercy guys, I’ve never done this before….. so I hope it’s good….

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the scent of lavender and something sharp, like ozone. Your head pounded, and your arms felt heavy. It took you a moment to realize why: you were bound—not with rope, but with shimmering violet threads of energy that pulsed faintly against your skin.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

The voice made you jolt, though you couldn’t turn your head to see. A familiar one—too familiar. Then she appeared, stepping into view with a predatory smirk.

Agatha Harkness. Or “Agnes,” as you had thought of her until now.

“What… what is this?” Your voice was hoarse, your pulse hammering as you tugged against the magical restraints.

Agatha tilted her head, studying you with an amused expression. “What does it look like, darling? I’ve brought you somewhere safe.”

“Safe?” you spat, glaring. “This doesn’t look safe to me, Agatha. It looks insane!”

Her smirk faded, replaced by a glimmer of something softer. “I’m not insane. I’m protective. There’s a difference.”

You struggled harder, ignoring the way the magic tightened with each movement. “This isn’t protection! This is—this is kidnapping!”

Agatha sighed, brushing a hand through her hair. “You’re so dramatic. I saved you, sweetheart. That ridiculous hex? Wanda’s magic running wild? It’s dangerous, and you don’t even know it. You should be thanking me.”

“Oh, thank you for tying me up and dragging me into your creepy dungeon!” you snapped. “How could I possibly repay you?”

Her lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but her eyes remained sharp. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll come up with something.”

——————————

Hours passed—or at least, it felt that way. Agatha sat across from you in a plush armchair, sipping a glass of wine like this was the most natural thing in the world.

“You can’t just keep me here forever,” you said finally, breaking the silence.

She raised an eyebrow. “Can’t I?”

“No! People will notice I’m gone. They’ll come looking for me.”

Agatha chuckled, swirling her wine. “Oh, darling. You’re in Westview. Nobody notices anything they’re not supposed to. And even if they did, who do you think they’d believe? Me, the charming, helpful neighbor? Or you, the person who’s suddenly vanished into thin air?”

Her words sent a chill down your spine. “Why are you doing this?” you asked quietly. “What do you want from me?”

Agatha set her glass down, leaning forward with an intensity that made your breath catch. “I want you.”

Your heart raced, but you forced yourself to meet her gaze. “Why? What did I do to deserve… this?”

“You existed,” she said simply. “You existed in a world full of noise, and somehow, you were the only thing I could hear. The only thing that mattered.”

You stared at her, stunned into silence. Agatha’s expression softened, her usual smugness replaced by something raw and unguarded.

“I’ve lived a long, long time,” she continued. “I’ve seen empires rise and fall. I’ve wielded powers you can’t even begin to comprehend. And yet, none of it ever felt real. None of it ever… touched me. Until you.”

Her confession left you reeling. “So your solution was to kidnap me?”

Agatha rolled her eyes, her smirk returning. “Oh, don’t act like I’ve locked you in a dungeon. You’ve got food, books, a comfortable room. I’m not a monster.”

“You’re acting like one.”

Her expression darkened, and for a moment, you thought you’d gone too far. But then she laughed—a low, humorless sound.

“You think I don’t know that?” she said, standing. “You think I don’t look at you and wonder what’s wrong with me? Why I can’t just let you go?”

“Then let me go,” you urged, your voice softer now. “If you care about me, Agatha, let me go.”

She stared at you for a long moment, her jaw tight. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t trust the world to keep you safe. And…” Her voice faltered, just for a moment. “Because I don’t trust myself to survive without you.”

————————

The days that followed were strange. Agatha didn’t keep you tied up after that first night, though the magical barrier around the house ensured you couldn’t leave. She tried to make your captivity as comfortable as possible—bringing you meals, sitting with you to talk, even laughing at your sarcastic barbs.

One evening, as you sat across from her at the dinner table, you asked, “What’s your endgame here? Do you expect me to just… fall in love with you?”

Agatha leaned back in her chair, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Would that be so terrible?”

You glared at her. “Yes. Yes, it would.”

Her smirk faltered, and for a moment, she looked almost… hurt.

“Look,” you said, softening slightly. “I get that you’ve been through a lot. And maybe you think this is the only way to protect me, or whatever. But you can’t force someone to stay with you. That’s not love, Agatha. That’s control.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You think I don’t know the difference?”

“I think you’re scared to find out,” you said, surprising even yourself with your boldness.

Agatha didn’t respond right away. She looked down at her hands, her expression unreadable.

“Maybe I am,” she said finally. Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

For the first time, you saw her not as the powerful, conniving witch, but as a woman who had been alone for far too long.

And despite everything, a part of you began to wonder if there was more to her than her obsession.

Well….. what do we think.. hope this does well

[giddlygoat]

i love ur turbo/felix stuff !! what's an underrated part of their dynamic that you're passionate about? any sorts of scenarios youre fond of ?

oml. thank you for such a treat of an ask!!!!!!

aaaa, where do i start? i genuinely don’t know how to articulate most of my thoughts and headcanons so i’m just gonna go for it LAWL

firstly, i love that turbo is an immature bad boy while felix is this heart-of-gold angel. i’m a simple man, i like that juxtaposition and i like to consider how they would inspire each other to veer out of their respective comfort zones and change as people [for better or for worse]. and i especially love all of this because i think it’s pretty safe to assume they are both the other’s first delve into dating. they’re both stupid about relationships going into this, which i believe is a big part of the reason felix fell in love with turbo.

which reminds me: i don’t think turbo realized he was in love with felix. he latched onto the only sprite in the whole arcade who remained consistently tolerant of his ‘charming quirks’ and soaked up that attention like a sponge. while felix would sometimes chastise his rude behaviors, he seldom told turbo anything but what the racer wanted to hear. he was encouraging to turbo like that; thought he could foster good change with positive reinforcement [at the time, felix did not realize on all conscious levels that he was trying to fix turbo].

that reminds me. in the very beginning, turbo thought of felix as a naive innocent whom he could mess with for his own amusement. on a less cruel note, he also found himself enjoying genuine laughter around felix more than anyone else, and turbo’s perception of the handyman changed significantly once he saw the real value in their friendship. he realized that felix actually made for great company and was a lot brighter than he’d originally assumed.

that’s around the time they both started to get close. turbo discovers that being playfully mean is his go-to love language, and felix consequentially discovers that he likes a little bitchiness in a guy. it’s kind of a surprise to them both but it’s a welcome development and they each come to terms with their newfound chemistry pretty quickly. it all goes unsaid. the flirting just kinda happens, and before too long they’re letting the lines of their relationship blur.

felix is absolutely thrilled. he loves the way turbo lights up when he enters the room. he loves feeling useful and wanted to someone other than a nicelander, and he sincerely loves turbo. it’s ridiculously simple to him, and at some point he was probably even convinced that turbo was his future. there is a sliver of bliss between them before the fantasy inevitably ends. sad! oh well, there are other bad boys with intimacy issues and their golden retriever boyfriends 😊 COUGH tamora & felix COUGH

OK BUT FR turbo even. Listen okay actually no. turbo had gotten wrapped up in felix’s fantasy too. he was invested. then he thought more than 2 seconds about the prospect of felix specifically being his life partner and got scared as fuck.

i’m ngl guys, i think turbo may have found felix’s predictability and love of routine and familiarity comforting in the beginning, but he quickly realizes that he can’t hitch himself to that. i think he had considered the anticipatory lifespan of his own game early on and a little seed of doubt burrowed itself down in his chest, telling him that he could not afford to get too comfortable and loose his touch.

OKAY UHM. sorry about the incoherent wall of text before you i just have so many thoughts about them at all times. all subject to change and evolve of course. in the meantime, here are some of my notes on them:

turbo has a strong emotional attachment to his car and felix recognizes that being invited to ride in it is a huge sign of trust and vulnerability. you’d never think he was sending sappy signals by the way he offered felix to ‘take it for a spin’, but it touches felix either way.

as previously mentioned, felix has a thing for being bossed around. he vehemently denies this when turbo teases him about it. no big surprise

turbo feels out of his element in most of the romantic aspects of their relationship, finding it easier to navigate the physical aspects. this isn’t even necessarily because he doesn’t have romantic feelings for felix, he’s just allergic to emotional intimacy.

felix is the perfect opposite of turbo in that respect. no display of affection is flippant or unimportant to him: he is very deliberate in initiating anything physical

on that note, felix is extremely service oriented and prefers to dote on his partner. turbo could not be happier by all the attention, but sometimes he finds felix’s emotion and sincerity to be overwhelming. this applies to basically every aspect of their relationship

i’m trying not to make all of these about turbo but i just have to get this off my chest: yes, turbo gets off on obliterating competition. he’s not normal about winning. winning in front of his boyfriend makes him especially abnormal. being praised for his victories by said boyfriend makes him downright unusual. no further questions at this time

i have more but this is way too long as it is and i’m falling asleep sitting up so CHAPTER ONE OVER!!!!1!1

[milestonekestrel]

Oil rig worker Billy keeps randomly popping in my head.

Like, imagine if Billy decided to get far away from Caz and Suze so he signed up to work for Cadal immediately after being released from the hospital. He arrives on the Beira, goes to Accommodations and the first person he sees there is Caz. So now they're both stuck on an oil rig and have to interact daily while they want to be as far away from each other as possible, like the world's worst romcom

I LOVE THIS VERY MUVH,,,,, it really is the world's worst romcom. they see each other on the rig for the first time and its like "oh you've got to be fucking kidding me..." and Roy is just watching in the back. Keeps worrying Caz is gonna start wailing on Billy again. Archie is friend with the both of them so he's awkwardly in the middle of their passive aggressive words and pettiness...

everyone on the rig knows they don't like each other. they insist that's not true (it is.. they just don't wanna bring up the duke public house) and everyone knows they're lying. some people are like "no way this is real right? they gotta be friends or smth this is getting ridiculous" but nope <3 they're just actually 100% Like That.

fucking stuck on a rig with your #1 Least Favorite Guy,,, they're not having fun </3

ough imagine the shape takeover,,,,, Caz isn't alone but like. he would probably rather be. they're just bickering the whole time (<- both of them are failing to cope with this extremely traumatizing situation and are turning to the one normality they've got left-- fighting each other)