#and she does it for her own amusement too B|

[hannieehaee]

Please i just want to read a smut about having a rough sex with hoshi because he's jealous when he heard his gf got confessed by her male friend. 👉👈 (It would be nice if he won't stop even if you cry in pain, saying that it's a punishment) (Just skip this if you're uncomfortable..)

18+ / mdi

content: jealous!soonyoung, smut, established relationship, he acts a little toxic but not that much, rough sex but completely consensual, afab reader, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1807

a/n: thank u for the request!!

masterlist

"babe, can i borrow your phone? i left mine in my gym bag and i'm too lazy to go get it," soonyoung mumbled as he laid down on your lap, hair being played with and thoroughly comfortable.

"yeah, here," you handed it to him without much thought.

neither of you had a tendency to go through each other's phones, but you had exchanged passwords and were very casual about picking up the other's phones whenever you felt like it. there was too much trust between you to really overthink these things. which wad why you had no issue giving him your phone while he didn't have his own at hand.

soonyoung laid there for a while, perusing instagram and other social medias while you read an ebook, holding it with one hand while playing with his hair with the other. you didn't pay much mind to him while you entertained yourself with your story, and the same could be said about him.

the calm silence accompanied by some show playing in the background was interrupted mere minutes later by a characteristically loud gasp from soonyoung.

"babe, who the hell is this loser?", he asked, rushing to sit up beside you and showing you your phone.

"hm? who?" you barely looked up from your book as he pressed to your side.

"some loser. cooper," he huffed.

on screen was a conversation he'd seemingly pulled up, with the name 'cooper coworker' displayed at the top. it took a few seconds for it to dawn on you what you were looking at.

"oh. that's just my coworker. why? what'd he say?", you didn't care too much about the conversation, but you were slightly curious as to why soonyoung had pulled it up. it wasn't really like him to check your messages.

"the notification just popped up so i went on it, sorry," he was sheepish about it before fully handing you the phone, letting you take a look at the conversation in question, "but, uh, what does he mean by this?"

there were a few prior messages to the newer ones, which were all from different time stamps and very tame in nature, usually just being shift trades or confirmations about work projects. the final few were the ones soonyoung had accidentally intercepted before you could check.

from: cooper coworker

hey can we talk about what happened the other day?

the first one was tame enough, suddenly reminding you of what'd happened a few weeks back, but the poor boy practically vibrating next to you made you opt to keep reading before clarifying the situation to him.

from: cooper coworker

i just wanted to see if you'd reconsider. i'd really like to take you out

i felt like you were just dismissing me with the whole boyfriend thing. i asked belinda and she said she's never seen you with any guy

anyways my offer for dinner's still up if you wanna

it amused you for the most part. the original interaction had been so tame and forgettable you'd completely disregarded the whole thing as soon as it happened.

cooper wasnt someone you saw on a daily basis, so his name hadnt registered when soonyoung had told you who the message was from. when he came up to you to ask if you'd like to have dinner, you were slightly surprised, not entirely sure of who he was. the easiest thing to say in response was that you had a boyfriend and werent interested (which was very much the truth). he had simply nodded in response and mostly taken it like a champ.

you wish you could say that his insistence surprised you, but it was a classic guy move. to act nonchalant at rejection only to come back ten times as insistent as before.

the situation made you wanna roll your eyes and just block him, but you guessed that maybe soonyoung would want an explanation sometime soon before his entire body combusted. the sight was cute, at least.

you sighed, "it's just some guy from work who asked me out, soonie. nothing too important."

that wasn't enough for him.

he whined, nudging your knee as he put the phone down, "what does he mean by 'the whole boyfriend thing'? what, do you work with this loser? who does he think he is? i'm your lockscreen, what the fuck is wrong with him? should i go talk to him? i'll do it, babe, just-"

"soonyoung! it's fine. i'll block him if it makes you feel better. i never talk to him anyways. everyone else at work knows i have a boyfriend. it's just some stupid guy. no threat whatsoever," you reassured him.

that seemed to calm him down momentarily. his breath evened and his rambling halted. he remained quiet for a few seconds before speaking up again.

"that's not good enough."

"what?"

suddenly he got up, grabbing your phone in one hand and your arm with the other and leading you out of the living room. within moments you were in your room, being pushed towards your bed and losing your balance and falling onto it.

"soonyoung, what the fuck-"

throwing your phone onto the bed, he approached you, telling you to keep facing forward as he pushed you further onto the bed. undoing his sweats as he approached you. his tone had been cold and entirely void of emotion, causing your brain to go numb and follow along with his instruction. you'd been too distracted by the removal of your own sweats to hear his following instruction, causing him to harshly pull you against him to get your attention before repeating himself.

"w-what?"

"i said, text him. tell him you're not interested and block him."

that was easy enough.

you reached over to the phone he'd thrown onto the bed and opened it back up, searching for the conversation in order to draft up a message.

but before you were even able to start, a huge distraction entered you.

immediately upon penetrating you, soonyoung went at it like crazy. it was like he had zero concern for anything other than fucking his entire essence into you.

you screamed out at the sudden intrusion and continued to gasp and mewl at the consequent thrusts into your hole. your hands shook as you gripped onto the phone, elbows hurting from putting your weight on them in order to hold onto the phone.

but soonyoung didnt care. no, on the contrary, any time you'd scream out his name, he'd go even harder, fingers surely bruising your hips due to how harshly he held onto you.

"i don't see you texting him, baby," he huffed in between thrusts, "need me to dictate it to you? brain too cockdrunk to think?"

he was mocking you, but he was right. you were usually nicely moist for him, but the moment he threw you onto the bed, it was like your mind was taken over by a docile and horny version of yourself, making you lose any ability to think for yourself by every passing moment.

unable to respond properly, you nodded, moving to try and type whatever he'd tell you to type.

"tell him to never contact you again, or else your boyfriend might get mad, okay, baby? tell him, fuck, tell him you already have the perfect guy taking care of you every night," he groaned in between thrusts, huffing and puffing at how tight you'd get for him.

you typed up the message to the best of your ability, surely getting a ton of typos in the process but not caring enough to correct them. this guy was nothing compared to soonyoung, especially not in this moment. the message in itself was slightly embarrassing to share with some random coworker, but your brain wasn't working properly at the moment.

hitting send, you thought that'd be the end of it. that now you'd be able to enjoy soonyoung's cock in peace. except that bastard replied immediately, and soonyoung managed to catch it from behind you.

suddenly, he started hammering even harder into you, genuine anger filling his veins at the response you'd received.

from: cooper coworker

lol that sounds kinda toxic. u deserve better than that guy

"'toxic'? did he just call me toxic?," he gaped between gasped breaths, "block him," he demanded, "block that fucking dumbass, i- fuck, i'm gonna-"

that's when he started going as hard as humanly possible, still letting out expletives against the coworker you'd forgotten about the moment you'd gone back home that day to your soonyoung. it hurt, but it hurt so good. it was the most pleasurable pain you'd ever felt. surely it'd lead to traces of pain after the fact, but it all felt worth it as soonyoung hammered into you with all strength available in his body.

"h-hurts, soonie, it's too much ..." you managed to sigh out, arms giving out under you and head pressing onto the mattress.

the comforter under you quickly became damp with a mixture if tears and drool, but you were too brain dead to process it.

"no, baby, this ... this, fucking shit, is to show you that you're mine. that no idiot guy can even think of, shit, fuck, of looking your way," he practically growled.

his labored breath accompanied by his broken sentences told you all you needed to know. you were about to be filled up by his load and there was nothing you wanted more. you'd never been claimed by someone in such a way and the euphoria that came with it was addictive.

with more curses and filthy expletives, soonyoung filled you up. his warmth inside you led to your own orgasm, making you completely fall onto the bed the moment he pulled out and took away his hold on you.

you didn't have any time to whine at the loss before he reappeared and began hastily cleaning you up, laying you on your back so he could kiss your cheek as he wiped at the drool and tears drying on your face.

when you opened your eyes, you found a completely different image of the soonyoung who had just defiled you to hell and back. staring back at you wad a hamster-faced cutie with some sort of worry in his eyes. his smile was sheepish and his movements way softer than usual. you couldn't left a giggle leaving your lips, which in turn caused him to relax and chuckle back.

"uh, sorry about that. just- uh, i got mad, i think ... at him! not at you! you're perfect," he rambled on in usual soonyoung fashion.

he was the cutest thing ever.

"it's okay, soonie. i'm not mad. feel free to do that again any time you want," you sat up to give him a kiss, earning a happy hum from him.

"oh, ah, yes. noted."

[pick-me-up-im-scared]

⚠️Warning!⚠️: Just pure smut.

Not proof read (none of my blurs is) just something quick I thought of…..

__________________________________________________________

“Fuuuuuck” Ellie whined as she pressed her sticky back even closer to your bra-clothed chest, fabric soaking up her built up sweat. “Please (y/n), please give me another finger. They feel so good in my tight cunt”. You’re shocked to say the least. Ellie’s never been this needy or whiny before. Sure, she’s more on the subby side normally too, but you could tell the second she came home from the party with Dina that something was different. You don’t know what she’s been drinking, but it sure made you wet like the ocean.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by another one of Ellie’s whines. Her shake hand tries to take matters into her own hands and fiddles with your fingers. As your ring finger is erect she flimsily tries to push it into her already filled hole. You giggle at her desperate yet cute action and give her a sweet kiss on her freckled cheek. “Let me do it for you, pretty girl” you pulled out your already coated fingers, much to Ellie’s disappointment. You couldn’t help but admire your fingers soaked in Ellie’s juice. Spreading them to see the gooey strings appear.

You’re quick to return to Ellie’s pussy, rubbing your fingers at her dripping entrance to give your third finger some. When they’re all soaked and ready you slowly slide them into the very familiar hole. Ellie’s eyes rolled to the back of her head at the amazing stretch she’s been craving the whole night. Her head hit your shoulder as she lets out slutty moans as her hips tries to roll with the pace. It’s cute seeing her trying to do anything with her shaky hips. The poor girl doesn’t know how to react to the delicious pleasure she’s achieving. “Does that feel good?” you whisper in her ear, as if it wasn’t clear by the way her body’s reacting. She dumbly nod her head while barely getting out “So fucking good”.

Her toned thighs squeeze around your hand as you quicken up the pace. You look at her with a fake concern “What are you doing, Ellie? I thought you wanted more”. “I-I, hummmm, I- do! B-but i-it ju-“ before she’s able to finish her sentence you curl your fingers, hitting her g-spot. The most satisfying moan you’ve ever heard comes out of your girlfriend’s opened lips. You continued to pump in and out of her as good as you could with her thighs tight clamp. Ellie almost lost the control of her breathing as all sort of sounds came out of her. Sounds you’ve never heard from her before. Clawing at your bare thighs she tries to find some sort of way to bear the sensation she’s feeling. You just admired her as her body seems to lose all control

She sprawled out her legs, pushing the shirt she wore 30 minutes ago off the bed. You soon noticed her thighs shaking like crazy as her sweaty back arches off your chest. You knew it before she said it. “Please please, (y/n). Let me cum” she pleaded, almost like she’s about to cry. You smirked in amusement before leaning into her ear “Do it, baby”

“Anything my pretty girl asks for”.

[moonstruckme]

Could I request more soft dom Remus!! Maybe reader forgets to take care of her self because she is too caught up in her work and Remus loving sets her straight and just takes care of her🙏🏻 you are lovely my dear❤️❤️

Thanks for requesting!

cw: implied d/s dynamics, migraine

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 730 words

The couch springs groan beside you. You reach blindly for the tea Remus has brought you, eyes still on your laptop. 

“Look here, dove.” 

Your head turns before your mind has caught up to it, one hand still typing out the end of a word. Remus is scrutinizing you, your tea held firmly in his grasp. 

“Close your laptop.” 

“What? Why?” 

Remus gives you a look. “Weren’t you just telling me your head is hurting?” 

You chew the inside of your lip, but stand your ground. “Yeah.” 

“The laptop’s not helping with that, darling.” 

“Finishing my report will.” 

“You’re not finishing anytime soon, and the light’s not good for you.” 

He reaches for your laptop, and you draw it closer to you protectively. “It’ll be bad for me whenever I do it, so I may as well finish tonight.” 

“Enough.” Remus’ voice firms up. “Close it.” 

You scowl but do, saying a silent prayer that you remember all you’d wanted to say when you pick it back up again. Remus takes your laptop, moving it out of reach before he finally passes you your tea. The steam feels nice, and though you’d rather die than admit it you can feel the muscles in your face relax almost immediately. You blow on it gently.

A hand on your leg makes you look up at your boyfriend. Remus’ expression has gentled, a softer brand of concern in his eyes where they meet yours. 

“You wanna come here?” he asks. 

He helps you find your way into his lap, one of your thighs on either side of his. He draws slow, soothing strokes up your sides. One hand finds your face, thumb dimpling your lip. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, not without humor. “I know you wanted to keep working, but your body was tired of it.” Remus moves his thumb to kiss you, soft and lingering. “You’re your own worst enemy when you get like this, dove.” 

Your sullen mood gives way easily under the weight of his devotion. “I’m sorry,” you sigh. 

“I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to take better care of yourself.” He studies your face. “Have you had painkillers?” 

“No.” 

A wry smile. “How did I already know you were going to say that?” 

Remus reaches into his pocket, pulling out a couple of pills he no doubt fetched while the kettle was boiling. He passes them to you, watches as you down them with your tea. 

You watch him back as you swallow, feeling shyer than you did a minute ago. “Thanks, Rem.” 

“Don’t mention it.” He smooths a piece of hair away from your eye. His thumb lands on your temple, beginning to drill small circles. 

If your enthrallment with his touch weren’t enough, the skill with which Remus does the motion would be. It’s hypnotic. Your eyes fall closed, head listing forward. Remus chuckles and encourages it the rest of the way with his other hand on the back of your neck, letting you rest on his shoulder. How could anyone say that soulmates don’t exist, when the curve of his neck seems so perfectly fitted to your face? 

“You’re going to let me look after you now?” he asks warmly. 

You manage a feeble hum of assent. 

Remus is massaging your head with both hands now, deft fingers smoothing over your scalp and working their way gradually towards the tensed muscles of your neck. “Good girl.” Your body goes warm and loose at the praise. Your forehead rests heavily upon Remus’ shoulder. 

His quiet voice takes on an amused hue as he asks, “And what are you going to do the next time your head starts to hurt while you’re working?” 

You whine. “Remus.” 

“I just need to hear it from you once, dove.” 

You sigh. You think for a second that you might just pretend to fall asleep to avoid saying it, but the pressure of Remus’ fingers lessen until they’re barely there at all. He’s waiting for you.

“It starts with a b,” he hints. 

You’re glad he can’t see you scowling into his shoulder. “I’ll take a break.” 

“There we go.” Remus’ fingers resume their work, and you can feel the chuckle brewing in his chest as he turns his head to kiss your temple. “I know we’ll do better next time, won’t we?”

[novemberheart]

{overview} You get answers for Simon’s behavior

{warnings} fem reader, poly 141, a/b/o dynamics, mentions of fighting, cursing, mentions of heat cycles and marking

Chapter 31 <- Chapter 32 -> Chapter 33

“He has the flu,” the doctor spoke. John growled, not in the mood for games. “Alpha flu,” The doctor clarified.

“Bloody stupid name,” Kyle mumbled.

“What does that mean?” You urged.

“Has he been away for a while?” The doctor questioned. Her glasses had become foggy. She was nervous. John growled again. They had already answered that.

“Yes,” you answered. You wrapped your arm around John’s bicep giving him a small squeeze. His shoulders fell slightly.

“Have you been marked yet?” she asked, turning her full attention to you. You quickly shook your head.

“That would be why. His alpha already considers you his omega and being away from you without marking you”- she cut herself off with a sigh. “It would be like if you left your car with the keys in it in a bad neighborhood- for lack of a better analogy,” She explained. You weren't sure you loved the comparison.

“So his alpha is losing it because she's his omega but doesn't have the claim to prove it?” John clarified. The doctor nodded her head.

“Being away could've caused paranoia, especially if his alpha felt she wasn't well protected- or it could just be because deeper bonds have formed,” She continued.

Could be both.

You were by yourself with Kyle, who wouldn't be in the best position to protect you. Plus the two of you have grown closer.

“How come I haven't experienced this?” John voiced what you were thinking.

“It depends on a lot of different factors,” she started. “Could be biological, genetic, outside factors, so many things,”

John nodded his head.

“What do we do now?” Kyle questioned.

“Well, the best thing would be claiming. When's your next heat?”

“About three to four weeks,” John spoke for you. You were happy he was keeping track.

“Well then our next option would be sedation”-

“No,” John interjected. “She’s not being marked while sedated. Simon wouldn't want it to be that way and neither do I,”

“I’m fine with it,” you assured. You lied. No one wanted to be marked while sedated- besides betas. It was traumatizing, even though it wouldn't be painful. When you woke up you had to work through every emotion sober- unclouded by your heat. It scared you.

“No,” John pressed again. You breathed a sigh of relief. John’s hand rested on the back of your head, pulling you towards him. You whined, burying yourself into his side. “Is there a way we can spur on her heat?” John suggested.

“I suggest talking to an omega specialist,” she offered. John sucked in through his teeth nodding his head.

“Thank you, doctor,” He extended his arms towards the door. He showed her out. “Come here, pretty girl,” John soothed. You clawed at your eyes, quickly finding comfort against his chest. “I'm sorry that happened,” he whispered, his own throat growing tight at the lingering scent of your fear.

“We can talk to an omega specialist,” you mumbled, once your tears had finally died down.

“You sure, lovie?” Kyle spoke up.

“Could just lock the bastard in Johnny’s room till he snaps out of it,” John jested. You chuckled dryly, still refusing to remove your face from his chest. The two men sighed, sharing a glance with each other.

This wasn't how they wanted this to go down.

“If there is something we could do, would you be open to being marked?” John hummed, pressing you even further against him.

You were ready.

You had been during your heat.

You had waited longer than most omegas to be marked, not that that's saying much. It was more of a privilege than anything. Your pack was letting you consent to it on your own.

“Yes,” you agreed aloud. “I’d want you to mark me too though,” you added. John quirked his brow, an almost amused look on his face.

“That’s a lot, sweetheart,” he reminded. “Besides I’m not sure Simon’ll let me that close to his omega,” John purred. You grumbled, shooting him an angry look.

“I don't want to just belong to one of you. I want to belong to all of you,” you pressed. A flame sparked in the bellies of both men, their hearts skipping a beat.

“You already do,” John hushed, brushing your hair away from your forehead. “All ours. Which is why we have to take care of you. I'll schedule an appointment with an omega specialist today and you go write down all the questions you have, yes?”

“Yes, alpha,” You agreed.

Simon groaned causing Johnny to sit up in his seat.

“Morning, L.T.” Johnny yawned. Simon groaned again, a familiar ache and neediness in his body, along with a deep ache in his already bruised jaw. “How ya feelin’?” Johnny pressed.

“What happened?” he groaned. He could hardly open his eyes.

“Cap knocked you out. Right hook,” Johnny responded. That would explain it. The captain had a deadly hook. He was lucky his head was still attached to his neck.

Simon suddenly snapped awake, causing Johnny to throw himself forward.

“Pup?” Simon questioned, his eyes bearing into Johnny’s for assurance. He could still smell you against the sheets. His stomach twisted with a painful groan.

“She’s alright,” Johnny responded quickly. He didn't believe him. Johnny could tell. His eyes still searching for any signs that he had fucked up beyond repair. While it wasn't a good situation to be in, it wasn't Simon's fault.

Johnny knew why this happened to Simon. Simon’s walls were still up. Granted, you had shortened them quite a few feet, yet he was still holding himself back. Johnny could see it. He could see the way Simon stopped himself from letting his alpha take care of you. The way he’d whisper to Johnny to get you seconds once you cleared your plate instead of getting it for you himself. The way he always put your raincoat in plain view so you wouldn't forget it- instead of just reminding you.

It was only natural that his alpha wanted credit for these acts. He wanted to be seen as a worthy mate.

“She was a bit shaken, but she won’t hold it against ya,” Johnny assured. Simon's back flattened against the mattress, not in ease but in defeat. “Wanna hear what the doctor said about you?” Johnny's tone was too teasing for Simon's mood. “She said your alphas pitchin’ a fit because you were away from our girl,” Johnny smirked. “You wanna mark her,” Johnny whispered. The gravel in his voice usually sent a tingle up Simon’s spine, this time it made Simon kick him off the bed. “Bastard,” Johnny grumbled. The thud alerted John.

“Find my tooth while you're down there,” Simon requested of Johnny, shooting a glare at John.

“Don’t hold that against me, honey,” John soothed. Simon flushed at the name, rolling over onto his stomach. “I’d want you to do the same to me if I was in your position,” John added. Simon felt a wave of sickness wash over him again.

“How is she?”

“I just told you ho”- John held up his hand to cut-off the Scot.

“Go cuddle with you omega,” John directed, nodding his head towards the door. Johnny huffed at the cut-off, but would rather be doing that anyway. “She was scared,” John said once the door had shut. “Had all of us scared,” John continued. Simon whined low in his throat. He was with his alpha- his captain, he didn't need to be strong anymore. “None of that,” John soothed. His hand grabbed Simon by the scruff so his head was in his lap. “Wasn't your fault. She’s sitting at the kitchen counter writing questions to ask the omega specialist. She wants you to mark her,” John explained. A pleased rumble echoed in Simon’s chest at the idea- but stopped due to another.

“She’s not being sedated,” Simon snarled.

“Course not,” John assured. “Kyle’s been talking to one over the computer, apparently there is a pill that can spur on a heat. We’re looking into that,” John explained.

“I can wait till her heat,” Simon assured. “I can pick up a mission till her heat”-

“That's not feasible Simon,” John sighed. “First of all, we can't send you out there in this condition. Second, who knows when our girl will even get her heat. Third, your being away will only make the symptoms worse.”

“She gonna hate me after this?” Simon asked, mostly to himself.

“Do you want to mark her?” John asked suddenly.

Yes.

He's been biting back the urge to sink his teeth into you since Inverness.

Simon settled for a grunt.

“Then she won’t hate you, Simon,”

“Thank you for seeing us on such short notice,” Johnny thanked, peeling off your raincoat for you. The doctor smiled at the interaction.

“Of course. The situation, as it has been described to me, isn't one that should be taken lightly or pushed back,” she responded. “How are you doing?” She asked softly, turning towards you. She had eyes that looked exactly like Kyles. It instantly calmed you.

“I’m alright. Nervous. Thank you for asking,” you tried to smile.

“Your alpha- John, sent me over your medical history and I think the best option will be Camilcotazine. Are you familiar with that drug in any way?” She asked.

You were. One of the doctors at the omega holding house wanted to put you on that to regulate your heats. You declined because of the side effects. Instant two-week heat.

You nodded your head, explaining why you chose not to go on it at the time.

“Well, that's exactly why I want to prescribe it to you,” was her response.

“How long will she have to take it?” Johnny asked. You suddenly realized you left your paper with questions at home.

“For about three months,” she said, making both of you wince. “We can't tell if the medication is a good fit for you during the first month, because it will throw you into a heat regardless. The second month is to see if your heat begins to regulate itself and the third month is to see if it matches the second month,” she explained. It made sense, unfortunately.

“That’s fine,” you spoke up. “What if my heat lasts longer than it is supposed to?”

“The good thing about Camilcotazine is that it's a very commonly used medication. It has gone through thousands of tests and has been used for omegas for over fifty years. 1/7 omegas are on or have been on it. I am very confident in its ability,” she explained.

You looked over at Johnny.

“When do I start?” you breathed.

Hi friends!!! The next few chapters are going to be veryyy spicy! Hopefully that is something you enjoy…… see you in three days! 🧡

[moralesluvr]

RE-TAKE | b. eilish.

ꨄ︎ delivering some more teacher!billie for you… <3

you’re halfway out the door when her voice stops you.

it’s a call of your name, laced with an angry and frustrated tone. you freeze, hand tightening on the strap of your bag. the classroom is empty now, the faint sound of footsteps fading down the hall as everyone clears out for the day.

but you’re still here.

you swallow thickly, turning on your heel to face your teacher. her hair that was previously flowing down her shoulders is now placed in a messy bun, her blazer already discarded on the back of her desk chair— now only clad in a white, too-tight button up and a black skirt.

“we need to talk,” miss eilish says, her voice low and steady. her eyes don’t leave you as you start to walk forward, and she tuts at you harshly.

“no, shut the door.”

your skin feels clammy as you shut the door behind you quietly, dropping your bag on the floor and standing next to the doorframe, awkwardly. the air is thick and hot with tension, and you’re even more scared because you already know what this is about.

it’s about the fucking quiz. the one you didn’t even finish because your mind was elsewhere, lost in a maze of thoughts that all seemed to lead back to her. it wasn’t your fault that miss eilish decided to wear tighter dress pants and a flowier, lower-cut top that day. she had looked so pretty, and she still had that hickey on her collarbone that you had given her the night before, that she tried so hard to cover up with that small collar of her polo.

“come here,” billie says, snapping you out of your intrinsic thoughts. your feet move before your brain can catch up, carrying you toward her.

she waits until you’re standing in front of her desk before holding up the paper, “do you want to explain this?”

your eyes drop to the paper, to the bright red “F” scrawled at the top. even her handwriting was angry with you.

your face burns with shame, and you smooth your hands over your own skirt in hopes that it’ll calm you down. “i… i just had an off day,” you mumble, not even daring to meet eyes.

“an off day,” she repeats, her tone laced with amusement. she gives you a cocky, mocking nod, “that’s funny, because it seems like you’ve been having a lot of those lately. why is your shit not together?”

you swallow hard, your hands clenching at your sides. you don’t even dare to respond.

“look at me,” she says, and your heart stutters in your chest.

you lift your eyes, and there it is— that look she always gives you, the one that makes it impossible to breathe. she knows you down to a T, and her eyes are sharp, knowing of you, like you’re her prized possession.

“you really are better than this,” she says softly, leaning forward, her elbows resting on the desk. “i know you are.”

you nod, your throat too tight to speak. you fight for your eyes not to drift down to her exposed cleavage, so you flutter them shut before you make any more mistakes.

“but…” she trails off, tilting her head slightly, a loose strand of her black hair slipping over her shoulder. “i’m not happy with you. the retake date has already passed, so you’re going to have to show me that you want to pass my class.”

the way she’s looking at you, eyes slit and low, nearly makes you fall to the floor that your shoes keep twisting on, anxiety fueling you.

truth is, billie was always so big on not fucking you in school. it just seemed too risky, but today, it was like she couldn’t care less. she was already pulled closer to you now, unbuttoning your cardigan slowly as you gulped.

“what—what does that mean? i thought…” you stammer, but she just continues with undressing you, her smirk deepening.

“you’re my smart girl,” billie says, her voice like honey. she passes you a wink, “i think you’ll figure it out.”

that nearly kills you. your cardigan’s now on the floor, discarded like it’s worth nothing— and it really isn’t worth anything, not in this moment.

billie doesn’t kiss you with the usual softness she gives you, she kisses you like you mean nothing to her, like you’re worthless, like you’re just her pathetic little student who can never pay attention in class.

it’s quick, the way that billie rips your clothes off, propping you up on her desk as she fumbles around in a locked drawer of her desk, pulling out a thicker, longer, harder strap that you’ve never seen in your life.

“what the—?” you speak shyly, half due to confusion and half because there’s no way she’s going to use that on you. but your eyes turn wide as saucers when you see her slip her skirt and panties off, slipping on the strap and fastening it to her liking.

she pulls you by the hips without saying a word, the tip of the faux cock aligned with your entrance as her tattooed hand snakes around your throat, “don’t fucking talk at all, you hear me? you’ve done all the talking you need to in my class, giggling and whispering instead of doing your work. such a slut..”

you wince as the strap stretches your cunt out, your walls stretching to accommodate how fucking big it was. billie starts off slow, but that doesn’t last for long— she slams into you at a brutal pace, your stomach twisting as her hand slaps over your mouth to block your moans.

“shut up.” she seethes in your ear, her free hand kneading at your ass as her grip on your lips tightens, “you wanna get caught? you want someone to come in here and see me fucking you like this?”

you think her question is rhetorical until she slaps the flesh of your thigh, pushing you to answer her. and she lets you, her hand coming off of your mouth so you can mumble quietly, “n-no! please, billie….i’m so sorry…”

your eyes blink away tears as you feel a mix of pain and pleasure erupt in your abdomen, and it almost feels like too much, the way she’s fucking into you so hard. but deep down, you wanted this, wanted her to put you in your place. you wanted to fail that quiz so you could be where you are right now— legs shaking, pussy clenched against her strap. it was so wrong, but it felt so right.

a moan passes through your plump lips, and it makes billie’s frustration with you only worse. it’s like something snaps in her, the pace that she’s fucking you at almost seeming inhumane as your ass collides with her thighs, the sound echoing off of the classroom’s walls.

“such a dirty whore,” billie growls, her lips right against your ear, “know you could do much better in my class, but you’re just so distracted… may have to have a talk with the counselor, hm? do you need to be switched to another teacher?”

“n-no! miss eilish…please, wanna stay with you…wanna stay in your class…” you whine pathetically, and billie chuckles at how desperate you look.

tears find themselves streaming down your cheeks as you feel your orgasm closer and closer, your pussy clenching around the strap sporadically. almost inaudible whines leave your lips as you fight to stay upright, “i-i’m close— m’gonna cum, please, i—“

“cum for me.” billie orders, though her voice still drips honey. her hand snakes between your legs to rub your clit, assisting you through your orgasm as you heave, your cum sticky and hot as it races down the length of billie’s strap and onto her thighs.

billie fucks into you slowly a few more times before pulling out, watching as your cum seeps out of your cunt and onto your clit, glistening in the dim lighting of her classroom. billie gives you a kiss on your back, “good job, my girl— took me so fucking well.”

you thank her through puffy lips and teary eyes, laying on your back on her desk as she flips your paper over, writing a new grade on the front.

A+. Good job. :)

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[lilbunnis]

❛ ♡. gif credit. ⎯⎯ 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐬. ❜

★ ⎯⎯ big brother!aemond is used to your sweet moans and whimpers, though he is reaching his breaking point--- he must have you, no matter the consequences.

author’s note᛬ hii! first time posting on here--- this is obvi a new acc (personal reasons) but i also just wanna strictly post my writing on this blog. first time writing incest, too! oh, & im in my witchy era. anyways, if u’re a minor then do not fuckin interact, thx.

warnings᛬ mdni! smut, angst, dubious consent, dark!aemond, profanity, she/her pronouns, afab reader, innocence kink, corruption kink, manipulation, pussy whipped!aemond, incestuous relationships, breeding kink, cunnilingus, fingering, obsessive & possessive behavior, pet names. any grammatical errors are my own--- in advance, i sincerely apologize.

word count᛬ 1.5k

𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘.

oh, how sweet her lips were, so soft and plump, like the ripest of peaches during the middle of summer, ready to be kissed. gods, her eyes… so dark and tempting, yet warm and doe-like, a gift from their mother, the queen. her skin was pure and soft and untainted, almost whispering to him to touch, touch, touch--- touch her!

she was his--- since she was torn from their mother’s womb, bloody and screaming, a dragon come forth, his darling little sister.

he loved, he loved, he loved her.

the very epitome of a true born targaryen, made for him.

he knew since the day that she came into this cruel world that she would belong to him, that she would be his.

his, his, his.

“b-brother! no, n-no, i- nghh.. ‘m gonna—“ she babbled cutely, her voice like sweet music to his ears, a siren’s call, begging him to take her maidenhead.

the voices in his head were insistent and loud, screaming venomously at him, luring him to kiss, to touch, to take--- she was rightfully his by birthright, why shouldn’t he indulge?

yes, they hissed, encouraging him with their sweet, persuasive voices inside of his head--- had he finally gone mad? were the rumors of the targaryen madness true?

even so, he did not give a fuck.

his sweet baby sister was his, she always would be, and the way she clawed at his wrist, begging him to fuck her with his deft fingers faster, faster, faster!

or, perhaps… trying to push his hand away--- no, no. she loves him, and he loves her!

it was destiny, their destiny, to be together as husband and wife and bring forth a whole new bloodline of true born targaryens!

yes, his sweet little sister would give him so many babes, he’d fill her up and watch her as she’d grow round and fat with his many sons and daughters.

fire and blood, fire and blood, fire and blood---

then, a scream--- oh, so feminine and sweet; how he just adored his sweet little sister, his little darling.

aemond heard her cry out, the sweetest wail, fat tears falling down her flushed cheeks as he continued burying his long, nimble fingers inside of her sweet, drooling cunny, preparing her for his cock.

meanwhile, he kept pressing against that little patch of nerves inside of her that she could never reach by herself, stroking relentlessly--- meanly.

poor, sweet little lamb.

aemond was panting heavily, watching as her sweet little cunt sucked in his fingers greedily, making his lips twitch in amusement--- he could barely withdraw his fingers due to how fucking tight she was.

uncaringly, yet so lovingly, he would cruelly plunge them back inside of her, wet noises and her sweet, breathy little moans and whimpers filling his chambers.

“that’s it,” he cooed softly, his voice a raspy baritone, so convincing, “—doing so fucking well for your big brother, issa jorrāelagon.”

quietly, he continued into the night, moonlight spilling in through the glass windows of his chambers, his amethyst colored eye was fully blown wide and focused solely on her squelching cunt, watching as her little clit twitched and practically begged him for attention.

and who was he to deny his little sister such sweet, sinful pleasure?

not a second later, aemond moved to settle between his sister’s thighs, lowering his head until his breath ghosted over her wet, puffy folds, allowing him to inhale her feminine scent--- causing him to release a low, satisfied groan.

then, the prince nuzzled his sharp, prominent nose against her little, fleshy bundle of nerves, breathing her in further as two of his long fingers continued to wildly fuck her little virgin fuck-hole.

“b-bro-brotherrr! please, please! need.. n-need to--- please!” came her sweet, girlish voice which was higher in pitch than usual, making him let out a soft, amused hum.

“as you wish, sweetling,” he murmured against her clit, the vibrations from his deep voice causing her to squirm impatiently, before finally, she felt his plush, naturally curved lips wrap around her aching, throbbing clit, causing her to wail brokenly and clutch the silk sheets with tiny fists.

aemond, the kinslayer, could never deny her, could never say no to her--- perhaps, he should be furious at how weak she made him feel, but he could never find it in his cold, blackened heart to ever feel any sort of anger towards her.

his sweet beloved.

it was maddening how helpless he was against her, how deep his devotion to her was--- possibly, others would call it obsession, sinful, an abomination, but aemond knew the truth; dragons did not concern themselves with the likes of sheep.

oh, how he loved her, how he wished to possess her, to be the only person she would ever love, to be her one and only like she was his.

passionately and glowing, burningly real, her nude skin glistened in the moonlight, the few candles that were slowly dying out around his chambers and the burning fire in his fireplace teased shadows from the corner of his eye, the ghosts that still haunted the red keep were always watching and judging them viciously for their sins.

and oh, how their intertwined souls would burn in the brightest of flames, always together, even in the deepest pits of the seven hells, for all of time; for eternity.

still, he ignores the demons--- too drunk by the sweet taste of his little sister’s cunt.

“mine,” he purrs against her cute, twitching clit, suckling the nub into his watering mouth, which made his cock leak even more pre into his small-clothes, causing him to groan and harshly grind his loins down against his bed.

“say it, sweetling--- tell me that you’re mine,” he murmured, wrapping one of his massive hands around his sister’s smooth, left thigh, digging the tips of his calloused fingertips into the meaty skin possessively, holding her in place.

“ah, ah, ah— aemond, nghh..! oh-hmm, ‘m yours,” she babbled sweetly, her words slurring slightly as she began reaching her sixth peak of the night, causing more tears to spill down the sides of her face as she blinked rapidly, trying to clear her blurry vision as she felt her big brother scissoring her weeping cunt open.

wailing in despair, she felt her brother’s skilled tongue flicking and rolling her clit into his eager mouth again, suckling at it and nipping at the little nub mercilessly.

gently, with such cruel, bloodstained hands, aemond squeezed his sister’s thigh harshly, causing her to squeal and thrash her head around on his feathered pillow, her back arching like a bowstring as she finally reached her sixth peak, crying out and babbling her big brother’s name over and over and over--- pleadingly.

“oh, oh, ohhh..! f-feels so--- so good,” she sobbed brokenly, her thighs shaking and clenching around his head, making him continue to dig his neatly trimmed fingernails into the pillowy skin of her left thigh that he was still clutching, while moving his head quickly back and forth, stimulating her little nub until his little sister saw stars.

aemond knew it was sinful, having his sister gush and leak and drool all over his fingers and tongue as he continued suckling at her now overstimulated clit, her skin glistening with sweat, making her skin shine so beautifully against his silk bedsheets--- she was ethereal, an angel, his.

“sweet girl, you’ve done so good for me this evening--- so fucking perfect, little darling,” he praised tenderly, removing his mouth from her clit, while still gently nuzzling the twitching bud with the tip of the cleft of his nose, his fingers still moving almost lazily inside of her cunt, curling his fingers inside of her.

…as if he wished to stay inside of her; forever.

a soft hum escaped him in content, while he continued to gently fuck her with his fingers, more slowly as he heard her soft, girlish pleas--- more like sweet little mewls of his name.

“i think you’re ready for my cock now, don’t you?” he questioned darkly lovingly, pressing soft kisses against her engorged clit, allowing his slightly swollen lips to trail open-mouthed kisses all across the soft curls covering her mound, then across her inner thighs which were covered in her slick, watching as they continued trembling in his strong, possessive grasp.

silently, he gazed up at her longingly, a low purr rumbling deeply inside of his bare chest, the thought of plunging his furiously hard, weeping cock into his sister’s tight little cunny was almost too much to bear for the kinslayer.

oh, and how all of my devotion turns violent, aemond thought wickedly to himself, but no--- not with his sweet, beloved little sister…he would take her as his lady wife, to love and cherish and breed her nightly with loads of his seed until she was pregnant with many of his babes.

even then, aemond would never stop, how could he? she was his everything, and whether or not she was too fucked out by him feasting on her cunny for hours was no matter, because he already knew.

she loved him just the same, even if she truly did not know it just yet, his innocent little sister.

hm, what a sick little head he had, how his love turned into obsession, into possession--- but nonetheless, it was still love.

pure, undying love.

fin.

[zeroxs-stuff]

Thinking about an argument scenario with abby, where you’re so fucking mad at her—but she just keeps trying to get you to fuck with her.

Of course—not an actual argument that would require a civilized or serious conversation, but more like a playful argument that you just happened to be way too invested in. (ex: an argument over what dip is better for chips, comparing you and hers favorite shows, etc. not actual serious stuff!) You could be furious out of your own mind—annoyed, aggravated, in the mood to throw a literal table at her, and all she would do is baby you.

You had been arguing about this for the past half hour, and she still had the audacity to sit here and smirk at you while she manspreaded on the couch. You were pacing around the room, rolling your eyes and trying to explain to her the problem at hand. “abby fucking anderson—just, god.” you said with the deepest sigh you’ve ever taken to put emphasis on how frustrated you really were. “Y’know what? We’ll just order doordash. God—you can’t fuckin’ take this seriously.”

Abby pouted with a laugh that sounded way too amused than it should’ve, which only made you even closer to actually throwing a table at her or something. She chuckles provokingly, “Aww, is my baby upset? does she just need a good fuck to keep her back in her place?” She said in such a way that bothered you way too much than it should have. You rolled your eyes and practically yelped, “abby—my fucking god.”

She looked at you teasingly with a cheeky smile on her face, “Yes pretty girl?”

You sighed, “Just—just be quiet. For gods sake.”

-

Next thing you know, you’re crumbling before her eyes as you bounced up and down on her 7 inch strap, the tip of it reaching the rim of your cervix.

She keeps her hands on your waist, being sure to give you enough support you need to ride her properly—but being sure to still also give you a little bit of a hard time.

She said with a sly smile, “Fuck…This is all my baby needed? Was some good cock? Hm?” She paused to thrust up into you, causing you to whimper. “Some good dick to make her shut up? Realize her place, Yeah?”

You nodded weakly, depending on her for practically giving your limbs all the stability it needed—looking at her with fucked out eyes. “M-mhhmm…”

She made sure to make you say it—to say you lost with your own mouth. “Won’t talk back to me anymore, won’t you baby?”

You nodded obediently like you did the past hundred times shes made you cum, “mmm—mmhmmm….w-wont…t-talk…” you paused to catch your breath, “..b-back..”

She pulled you close to her with a satisfied smile, “Atta girl.”

She knew she could dumb you down, no matter what.

[certainlynotasimp]

okayy but miguel with a black cat! reader….she js likes pushing his buttons and flirting with with him and literally does anything and everything to get a reaction out of him…aaannd if it was anyone else who tried joking around with miguel he would claw their face off 0_0

A/N: Oooh that would be interesting~. I’m gonna just write a Headcanon for now, but I will definitely write a one shot later on. I also didn’t know if you meant in personality only or if she’s his dimensions Black Cat (the antihero/villain) so I just wrote her as a Spiderperson with a black cat personality.

Miguel with a Black Cat Reader🐈‍⬛

So I’m gonna head canon that Miguel’s own personality is more of a mixture of a black cat and protective Doberman.

When he isn’t stressed out about keeping the spider-verse together and not on the very of a aneurism, he can actually be a flirting bastard as well, so don’t expect to flirt with him and get nothing in return.

But that side of him comes out like 20% or the time since…ya know, ya boy is stressed.

So when they are in front of other people, Miguel would be annoyed with the snide remarks you would make to try and ruffle his feathers, but he wouldn’t yell at you unless it’s a particularly in appropriate time to make him riled up.

The flirting would probably fair a little better as Miguel will try to act annoyed with your lingering caresses and the way your voice seem to purr at him. But, depending on your relationship, he would react in different ways.

If you were just a colleague, he would brush you off and snap at you for being so dishonorable for a spider-person.

If you were his friend, he would roll his eyes and probably throw a snide remark about you needed to get back to work. He’ll secretly find it amusing and might throw a remark back on good days.

If you are his crush or s/o, he would act the same way in public, his eyes constantly rolling as he acts annoyed with you. But a little tinge of a blush will appear if you purr out particular nicknames or remind him of certain private moments between you too.

Sometimes he’ll surprise you on particularly good days and tease you back. He knows he’s good looking and uses it as a weapon to get you flustered.

“What’s a matter, bonito gato?” He whispers as his mischievous eyes shine down at you. Your back shivers as his large forearm rest inches above your head, his burgundy eyes shining red from the monitors next to you as he traps you in. His chest acting as a barrier from your escape as his hand cups your jaw. “Keep your eyes on me when I’m talking to you, Cariño.”

If he catches you giving this treatment to some of the other spidermen, expect one of two reactions.

1) He’s gonna give you the silent treatment for the rest of the day and finally snap at you when he feels particularly annoyed by it. It’s not that he wants to yell, but the memory of someone else touching and flirting with his little spider causes him to think he’s losing the only person he has.

After an argument, he’ll calm down and apologize. Depending on how long y’all have been together, he will open up about some of his insecurities and fears of losing you.

2) He’s gonna give you the silent treatment the rest of the day until you two can get somewhere more private. He’s gonna remind you why he’s YOUR spiderman~ ����

If anyone else tried to flirt with him or ruffle his feathers like you do, may God help their souls because Miguel ain’t having it.

He’s fiercely loyal, so if you guys are in a relationship and this happens, he’s gonna get mad and snap at them for being a disrespectful friend to you (because let’s be real, 90% of the Spider Society are friends because majority of them are Peter Parker Variants) and will probably threaten them with either losing their spot in the society. Or if they being particularly pushy, he’ll let his talons do the threatening.

He can also just open a portal and send them out of there is he finds them annoying.

He only really lets Jessica and Peter B mess with him because it’s more like they are messing with him about his reactions to you. Peter B definitely caught Miguel’s blushing face in a couple of pics of Mayday with you over his shoulder whispering in his ear.

I believe the nickname you would have would be either “Kitty” or “Bonito Gato” because your skill set maybe more reminiscent of Black Cat (the villain) and because Miguel says you are just as annoying as a cat. He still loves you though.💕

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I always love when you guys message me and please feel free to send more! 🤍💕

[lizbetlovesbyler]

The Duffers ‘Chemistry Test’

(How the Duffers demonstrate romantic AND platonic chemistry in Stranger Things’ relationships)

When one character starts singing, how does the other react? Are they in harmony?

(alternatively: do they match each others freak?)

“Chemistry” describes the emotional connection between two characters in a relationship. This can be either romantic, platonic, both, or neither.

We know that the Duffer brothers highlighted the importance of music in Stranger Things 4, so let’s look back on it’s uses in earlier seasons.

I’ve noticed a lot of parallels between scenes that focus on the relationship between two characters. One of these two characters will sing, and the other has one of two reactions:

Indulge in the fun

Try and shut it down

Depending on their reaction, we can conclude a lot about what the Duffers want to communicate about the chemistry between two characters.

So let’s look at 6 examples:

Exhibit A: Dustin and Suzie

https://youtu.be/ehtsmxu1w10?si=CGnKM5PubO5lC-V4

This - I think - is the most glaringly obvious example of how the Duffers like to demonstrate chemistry between two characters. Mostly because this scene is purposefully very memorable.

Dustin and Suzie have clearly sung this many times before, we know this because Dustin immediately knows what Suzie wants from him just from her saying “I want to hear it”

At first, he’s embarrassed - all of his friends are listening, friends who didn’t believe until now that Suzie even existed. He doesn’t want to sing it in front of them.

But when Suzie joins in, he’s actually able to forget about the danger they’re all in, he’s doesn’t care everyone is listening, he’s able to indulge. Because he loves Suzie, these moments bring him joy. They bring Suzie joy, too. Just look at this shot of them together, despite being states apart. Because they are in harmony, the distance between them doesn’t matter.

These two cutie patooties pass the chemistry test with flying colours.

Exhibit B: Max and Lucas

(Max and Lucas are presumably also in a relationship at this point in the series, and they don’t break up until after.)

As another couple, the two are mocking Dustin for his relationship - making kissy faces at him and calling him “Dusty-bun”.

However, whilst doing so, they are demonstrating their own chemistry - synchronous clapping, smiling at each other, holding eye contact. When they start singing the second time, they need nothing more than a look from the other before they start again from the same lyric.

Max and Lucas may not have the same romantic dynamic as Dustin and Suzie, after all no two couples are the same, but they will sing to make lighthearted fun at their friend.

It should also be noted that Max didn’t even hear Dustin’s original rendition, she had to hear about the whole ordeal from the others, I’ll wager Lucas sang it enough to Dustin that she picked up on it and joined in. She indulged in the fun.

If Lucas and Max did not have chemistry, Max would’ve been at most only slightly amused in Lucas’ mockery, but she would not have joined in on it (similar to Mike) and might have even told him to knock it off during the time skip if he continued doing it.

These two pass the chemistry test.

Exhibit C: Mike and Eleven

Might be time to start contrasting these examples to other scenes in the same season.

This is our first look at Mike and Eleven as an official couple - and what I would label as the start of their downfall.

(may make a whole post dedicated to this one scene because it speaks volumes about Mike and Els relationship and what the Duffers want us to take away from it in retrospect)

This scene is special because it’s not like the writers are trying to make it glaringly obvious that Mike and El are not a compatible couple. Rather, this scene is disguised as a cute (albeit slightly awkward) scene, hell - i thought it was cute when i first watched it (I was also, you know, 12, but whatever, I’m now 17 I have a very different idea of what romantic relationships actually look like).

It’s only later when we gather the other examples in this post and compare them we can start to see that somethings not quite right with these two cutie pies.

Even whilst they’re still kissing, Mike is pushing Els hands away from him - already not a good sign.

When he pulls away to sing, it’s because he wants a break from constant kissing. From my own experience, I can tell you that making out is very exhausting (especially when you don’t have a lot of chemistry with the person you’re locking lips with).

El reacts very quickly by covering his mouth, she calls his name to grab his attention, she tells him to stop, she gives him a look that just says “What are you doing?”. This is her trying to shut him down. She is not indulging in the fun, even though Mike is trying to make her - he shakes her and her arms, he maintains eye contact. He asks her if she likes it, and she says “No!”.

If the Duffers wanted to portray Mike and El as a couple with chemistry, a better way to portray that could have been to have them just sitting and reading their own respective magazines, when Mike sings, El could have smiled and bopped her head along despite likely not knowing the words. They could have demonstrated that the two enjoy each others company even when they’re not making out, that they are still close, and a kiss goodbye to make it clear to the audience they still have a romantic dynamic.

This scene doesn’t just not do that, it does the opposite. Mike and El are only interested in kissing. When they break up later, it’s for comedic relief.

These two unfortunately do not pass the chemistry test.

Now, due to the very thick romantic tone of this scene, we can conclude that Mike and El do not have romantic chemistry, but we cannot make any conclusions about their platonic chemistry.

What does platonic chemistry look like with Eleven, you ask?

Exhibit D: Max and Eleven

This example is slightly less noticeable, but this scene starts in Elevens room, a parallel to the previous example with Mike.

Max is singing along to the radio, much like Mike was, the only difference is Els reaction. Instead of trying to shut her down, she is bopping her head along to the music. She may not be singing along, but she is still indulging in Max’s behaviour, she’s having fun.

Max and Eleven have platonic chemistry.

Exhibit E: Steve and Nancy

Let’s now look at the very first example of this Chemistry Test the show gives us, way back in season one. It’s so small you may have missed it.

I think this is a very good example of how interactions like these are a two way street.

(For context, Steve is apologising to Nancy for his lack of empathy towards Barbs disappearance, and tries to invite her to a movie to take her mind off it all - note that Nancy is yet to verbally forgive Steve in this scene)

Nancy goes through a lot in the first season, I don’t doubt that even if her and Steve shared romantic chemistry, that she still wouldn’t be in the mood for a little sing song. But Steve still sings to her anyway, he hasn’t picked up on how distraught she is over Barbs disappearance, and how “pretending everything is normal” is not something she wants to do.

What she wants is to go out and look for Barbara with Jonathan - Steve later misinterprets this as them hooking up, completely ignorant to the fact that they both have lost someone they care deeply for when they both feel they could have prevented it (Jonathan was not supposed to be working that evening and Nancy convinced Barb to come to Steve’s even though she didn’t actually want to)

It’s clear Steve is genuinely trying to make amends with her in this scene, but there is still a glaring disconnect in their emotions because Steve does not apologise proportionally to the distress Nancy is in. When he sings to her and tries to make her laugh, he is demonstrating this lack of understanding of her needs and emotions. Of course she doesn’t laugh, she looks away awkwardly and eventually shuts him down.

The lack of chemistry between these two is demonstrated by Steve singing in the first place, then confirmed when Nancy does not indulge.

These two, unsurprisingly, do not pass.

Exhibit F: Steve and Robin

(Skip to the end of this video for a refresher)

This is a very intimate conversation. This time, Steve appreciates that it takes a lot of trust for someone like Robin to talk about what she just has. It takes a lot of love from Robins end to be honest with him as to why they can’t be a couple.

Trust and love that didn’t come from no where, I’ll remind you.

He reacts the way he does because he values Robin as a friend, and as friends do, he picks apart and judges her crushes.

Steve doesn’t have to grasp at straws for something to say, despite having never been in this situation before, despite having never even thought about being in this situation before. He just talks. The right words come out of his mouth because they have that shared love and trust. He just talks and says the right thing because he feels and thinks the right things.

He sings because it’s appropriate for their dynamic and his approach to this conversation as her friend, she indulges to confirm that they are in harmony now their relationship is defined as platonic.

These two have undeniable chemistry. Id argue this is the best example of this Chemistry Test because it’s such a raw and real interaction, even if it only demonstrates a strong platonic bond.

(I would love to see some sort of parallel with Mike and Eleven in S5)

“Great! We have a theory about how the Duffer brothers have previously demonstrated Chemistry, with evidence to support it! … Now what?”

Now we apply it to Season 5 Speculation!

I bring to you a whole three possible applications of this theory.

Number 1: Robin and Vickie

Crucial detail that loads of people overlook about Robin and Vickie - they’re both in band.

We’re constantly reminded of it, too.

Steve to Robin: “You’re worried about a high school pep rally, you expect me to believe that? […] This is about Vickie!”

Our first look at Vickie is during said pep rally, we see Vickie and Robin standing side by side, sharing a glance during the band performance.

We see them interact later that night, during band (again), whilst Tammy Thompson sings the national anthem.

Dustin to Eddie s4 e02: “You know Robin! From band!”

Vickie to her boyfriend when he asks who Robin is: “Someone from band.”

Robin and Vickie are in harmony, even in their limited on screen interactions, because they both play music together.

It’s also worth noting that both of their instruments are wind instruments. We know that the both of them struggle to stop themselves from rambling, so their best interactions are during band, they do not have to worry about finding the right words because they literally cannot talk.

According to the Duffer Brothers, Robin and Vickie have chemistry. Rovickie endgame - next please!

Number 2: Steve and Nancy

Let’s be so fr they are not getting back together.

This post is one of many arguments as to why they should not and will not become a couple again in s5.

I said “next, please!”

Number 3: Will and Mike

Stay with me, now.

Small throwaway scene? Maybe, yeah, but i’ll add that the exact frame Will sings here is the thumbnail for this episode.

Do with that information what you will.

In this scene, Mike is making a plan to find El by getting help from Suzie. Will is the only one who picks up on Mikes plan, and sings the Never-ending Story theme to remind the others who haven’t yet picked up on it. Basic example of show don’t tell.

Contrary to Steve and Nancy, Will sings because Mike and him are already in harmony. They’re on the same page about “Utah” meaning “Suzie”.

This is one of the many examples in season 4 alone where Mike and Will do not need to communicate with words to pick up what the other puts down.

You could say that these two have quite a good rhythm, their interactions seem to flow seamlessly, and when they don’t ( *cough* airport reunion) it sticks out like a sore thumb.

I cant find a clip of the scene I can link here, but think of that scene where they’re formatting a lie for Suzie in her room as to why they need these coordinates, and it’s complete improv and such a natural flowing lie despite the fact they’ve never discussed it before.

And if we’re defining chemistry as a measure of emotional connection, well, which two characters have the most heart-to-heart, ‘lethal dose of emotion’ interactions this season?

yeah…quite a few more than average.

And that’s just season four! Mike and Will share emotionally intimate moments like these throughout the seasons.

So, will we get to see some more musical interactions this next season? If we do, i’ll place my bets on these two getting fed a version of our Chemistry Test.

Love to hear other people’s thoughts!

[rrickgrrimes8]

Ho, can i just day i love your works! May i request an ellie x miller reader where maybe ellie and the reader get into an argument on the way to jackson and reader is giving ellie the silent treatment. Joel tried to help then resolve it but it doesnt work until they get ambushed by clickers and reader gets lost for a few days or sum. Then ellie and reader make up and kiss!!! Pretty pls

Never Again

summary: what makes a better lovestory than jealousy, clickers and mourning?

Ellie Williams x miller!reader (aged up) — she/her reader. Joel Miller x daughter!reader

warnings: infected, angst, fluff, making out, fluff, arguments, Dina, minor injury, happy ending

masterlist

request guidelines (new)

requests are open

thanks for the request! hope this was what you wanted! ;)

word count: 1.3k

You didn’t know how you even got here.

A small fire dwindled in front of you. Your arms wrapped around your chest, sinking into the feeling your own comfort gave you.

How did this happen?

You were just with them, with Ellie and now this… Now you were on your own, again. You wished you could take it back and you were sure, wherever Ellie was, she would agree too.

How could you let this happen?

“You’re not listening to a word I say,” You hissed, trekking, and struggling up a long flight of stairs.

Joel rolled his eyes, a little further up then the two of you for once – the wish to escape this situation outweighing the ache in his knees.

Ellie scoffed, “I listen! I am listening! You’re not even telling me what I did wrong!”

“Christ, Ellie, that’s the problem,” You huffed, turning to face her, “You don’t understand why I’m upset with you.”

The girl’s eyes soften, frowning when she saw your tears, “Tell me then.”

You shook your head, biting your lip, “You flinched, Ellie.”

“What?” She almost laughed.

Joel looked back at this point, stopping to catch his breath but instead getting a front row view of your argument. “Back in Jackson… you and Dina were talking. I came up to you. I held your hand and you fucking flinch.”

“So?” She rolled her eyes, “What does that even matter?”

“It matters b-because of her,” You spat, “Its always her, Ellie.”

Ellie huffed a laugh, shooting a look at Joel, who was not impressed, “Can you believe this? She’s fucking jealous.”

“Ellie,” He warned.

“I’m not jealous, Ellie,” You defended weakly, “I shouldn’t have to be! You’re my girlfriend, not D-Dina’s.”

“I know!” She yelled, patient growing thin, “I know! Christ…”

“You still don’t get it, do you?” You suppressed your tears.

“Get what?” She chortled, “That you’re jealous? And acting ridiculous?”

“Ridiculous?” You repeated, “You think I’m being ridiculous?”

“Yes!” Her eyes blew wide, hands emphasizing her anger.

You gulped, “Maybe if I’m being so ‘ridiculous’ you can got stay with Dina when we get back. What about that, huh? How’s that for ridiculous?”

“What?” She glanced at Joel again, this time more for help than out of amusement, “That’s not what I want.”

“Oh really?” You ignored your father, who warned you to stop, “Because that sounds like exactly what you want! You fucking flinched, Ellie!”

“So what?” She screamed, hands running over her tied back hair.

“So what?!” You exasperated, “You’re my girlfriend and all I can think about is how you want to be hers. And I mean why wouldn’t you want to be… I’m fucked. And don’t deny it, Ellie, I know, my dad knows. And one day, sooner or later you’re going to know. And you’ll end up with her... It will always be her…”

Ellie sucked in a harsh breath; you name falling from her cracked lips.

“Leave it,” You mumbled, pushing passed your dad, who watched you carefully and with concern, “Let’s just get on with it.”

Joel cursed as you stormed ahead of them, turning to Ellie with a scolding look, “Fix it.”

 Ellie nodded, shakily, guilt forming in her gut, “How?”

But Joel didn’t have time to respond. Your scream echoed down the stairwell. The pair yelled your name but all they were met with was infected, clickers, dozens, and dozens of them. They lost sight of you entirely – fearing the worst.

The rest was a blur, you thought. You couldn’t remember how many you killed or how you got out of the building, how you even survived. But you ended up here, uninjured, cold, and alone.

You cursed yourself. Because it was your fault. You picked the fight. You let your jealousy get the better of you. You ran ahead.

And now Ellie and your dad, well, they could be anywhere.

That was the scariest feeling in the whole world.

x

“She’s not here.” Tommy’s words echoed around Ellies mind.

Her and Joel, somehow, had gotten back her in one piece. Maybe because they had tricked themselves into thinking you would’ve beaten them back – that fueling their energy. But you hadn’t.

“She’s not here.”

Joel’s face switched. His eyes felt so far away. Unshed tears lining them. He looked at Ellie as if she was a stranger. Like it was her fault.

Ellie broke down straight away. She wanted to feel embarrassed about it, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be.

You weren’t here. You weren’t home. You weren’t anywhere.

Joel refused to leave the wall. He told them that they didn’t know anything, that they didn’t know you. That you would be back, you always did. You were Joel Miller’s girl after all.

Ellie locked herself into the room you shared. She hugged your pillow to her chest, her aching burning chest.

This wasn’t right.

First her mom.

Then Riley.

Then Tess.

Sam.

Henry.

Not you. Never you.

This couldn’t be how she lost you. You had been through too much for it just to amount to this. For it to amount to nothing.

She couldn’t stop crying. She feared she never would.

All she needed was you.

x

It took you three days to get back to Jackson. The weather, the infected and a hurt ankle that you had gotten on the way slowed you down tremendously.

You almost cried as you saw the gates. You picked up your speed, sprinting back home now, neglecting your limp.

A horse met you halfway. Joel cried when he saw you, alive. He knew it. He goddamn knew it.

He had never moved so fast in his life. He dismounted the horse and sprinted the short distance to you.

“Babygirl,” He pulled you into his chest, holding you like a porcelain doll.

“Dad,” You beamed, wrapping your arms around him.

“I knew it, baby, I knew you’d make it back,” Joel told you.

You nodded against him, tiredly.

“You okay?”

You pulled away from him, “Fine, jus’ my ankle.” He stared down at it, blood soaking through a makeshift bandage you had tied.

“It’s not-“

“No,” You calmed him, “Snagged it on some barbed wire – wasn’t looking where I was going.”

He nodded, taking in your features, your everything and pressed a kiss against your forehead, “C’mon… someone owes you an apology.”

You chuckled, accepting his help getting on the horse, “She okay?”

He scoffed, “Without you, no.”

Yours and Ellies door was closed when you got back home. You never thought it would look so daunting, until now. A closed door with you on the other side, with Ellie feeling so far away.

You slowed your breathing, limping until you were face-to-face with it. A sighed escaped your lips as you shakily knocked. No movement, no noise. Complete silence.

You frowned, knocking again, harder. You were met with the same.

Your hand found its way to the handle, hating how grating the noise it made was.

Ellie was motionless on the bed. Her body was molded around your pillow, tear stains becoming at once its new style. “E-Ellie,” You breathed out.

She jumped, head shooting up in your direction. Ellie cried out your name, urging you to rush to her. Her arms abandoned your pillow and made their home back on your body, on your skin.

“I’m sorry, fuck I’m sorry,” She sobbed, grip tightening, “I love you. I’m sorry.”

You smiled, kissing her shaking hands sweetly, “Its okay, Ellie. I’m sorry too.”

She shook her head, pulling you closer, as if that was possible, “You were gone.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I heard your scream,” She croaked, “I thought… not you. Not you…”

“I’m here,” You whispered, kissing up her neck, “I’m here, baby.” Ellie nodded at your words, accepting your love graciously.

Kissing along her jaw, you finally found her lips. They moved in sync, performing a dance you both knew well but at the same time the tone was different.

Ellie was more desperate. Angrier. Sadder.

You kissed her, nevertheless. Hoping to fight away those feelings.

Ellie smiled against your lips, pulling apart hesitantly. “Never go again,” She whispered, forehead falling against you, “I couldn’t bear it.”

“Never,” You told her, “Never again.”  

[loveharlow]

SEVEN - 006

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[7.4k] based on 1x06.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mild violence, gun violence/graphic depictions of gun use, mentions of drowning, arguing, entrapment, references to mild bullying

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ Idk if y'all can tell but I be eatin the kie x sarah x reader drama up when i'm writing like it's too fun to write

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“SORRY, YOU’RE STAYING WHERE?” Kiara asked grabbing a tray of food as John B leaned against the counter and you trailed behind her with a pitcher of drinks. The Wreck had opened for the day not too long ago.

“Tannyhill.” He said shortly, eyes wide and unexpecting as he leaned his forearms on the counter.

“So, you’re living with Sarah Cameron.” Kie said with a tight-lipped grimace. 

“Look, the only reason I’m living there is ‘cause her dad bailed me out, alright?” The Routledge boy reassured, following you both out to the table where JJ and Pope were lounging inside of The Wreck. “And it’s way better than foster care which, by the way, is where I was about to go.”

“So, do you have membership to the clubs now?” Pope perked up curiously, legs kicked up on the wooden surface. Kiara sat the tray of fries down while you poured the drinks into each respective cup before taking a stand behind JJ’s chair that was next to Pope’s, leaning your arms over it as you bent nonchalantly behind him, stealing a fry from his hand over his shoulder.

“I don’t know, Pope.”

“What about those golf carts they drive around? You get one of them?” He questioned again, amusement in his brown eyes. “Does it come with a sweater vest or do you have to buy one of your own?”

“Look, you promised.” Kiara cut in disappointedly, returning back to the original topic of conversation. “You said you weren’t with her…” John B just shrugged as if he wasn’t caught in a lie.

“Bro, just own it. She’s got you.” JJ scoffed. 

Kiara just ignored the blonde. “If you wanna hang out with her, that’s fine. But I’m letting you know that I’m not doing anything with Sarah.” She continued on, affirming the boy. 

“Do you guys see her here?” JB cut in shortly, annoyed. “No? Right, okay. A little focus would be fantastic. We’ve got the map, right?”

“It’s out of whack ‘cause the guy was ganja’d when he drew it.” JJ piped in. 

“It’s more so due to the fact that the coast has changed.” You offered, looking down at the blonde. “But it deffo looks like he drew it after ingesting a whole eddie and downing half a bottle of Everclear.”

“We just have to look for the landmarks that haven’t changed.” Pope spoke to no one in particular as he surveyed the map. 

“What about the old forts?”

“Battery Jasper.” Kiara threw out with full confidence. Pointing to a clear spot on the map in the middle of absolutely nowhere. Looks were shared around the table before everyone shrugged, you all hopping up and heading outside of The Wreck and into The Twinkie.

“WE’RE IN BATTERY, RIGHT HERE.” Pope had the map pressed up against a rock, still reading it as the remaining four of you looked out at the expanse of land in front of you. Nothing but grass and trees for miles. “So if this is parcel nine, then it’s somewhere northeast of here. Over there.” He concluded, pointing ahead.

“That’s not Tannyhill,” JJ began, squinting his eyes. “That’s a subdivision.”

“Tannyhill Plantation was the entire island.” John B told him. “Over time, it got sold into smaller pieces.”

“So we’re looking for an old stone wall…” Pope pondered, heading back into the van without a word. The rest of you simply followed, loading into the van with JB as the driver and following Pope’s verbal lead. “The road should split up here. You’re gonna take a left.” He said after a few minutes of driving.

John B made an unnecessarily sharp left turn, sending the three of you in the backseat flying against the wall of the Twinkie. After a few curses and groans, you looked to see what was stone wall. “This is it.” Pope claimed.

“Are you kidding me?” Kiara exclaimed, hopping out of the van as the rest of you followed. Looking up at the house, it was immediately recognizable.

“The Crain House?” You asked incredulously, eyes wide and jaw slack.

“Worst-case scenario.” JJ quipped. “I heard that Mrs. Crain buried her husbands head on the property.”

“Honestly, I don’t really believe the stories about this place.” John B shrugged, taking the first step and leading the group through the thick mess of greenery that led up to the house itself. You were constantly swatting leaves and branches out of your field of vision as you walked.

“Which stories did you hear?” JJ inquired.

“The one where she killed her husband with an axe and that she’s been holed up ever since.” Kiara replied. “On certain nights, when the moon is full, you can see her in the windooow.” She teased, wiggling her fingers in a spooky motion. 

“Okay, it’s not funny ‘cause it’s all true. I swear to God, guys, this is all real. I knew Hollis.” JJ preached. 

“Hollis Crain? The daughter?” You asked, tilting your head in his direction as you dodged a branch. 

“Yeah. She was my babysitter.” He told you, holding up the next branch for you to walk under, releasing it just in time to swat Pope in the forehead. “She told me all about it. About her mother, what happened in the house. As a kid, she heard all these stories about how her mother had killed her father. Hollis didn’t believe it. Until that night…” He trailed off.

You groaned at his dramatics, stopping in your tracks to cross your arms and shift your weight. “What night?” You asked, feeding into JJ’s theatrics.

“When Hollis was six years old, she heard her parents arguing downstairs. So, she goes down there to see her mom washing her hands in a sink full of blood. Her mother says she just cut her finger. Next morning? She says her father and her split up. But then, Hollis noticed something — her mother going in and out of the parlor constantly, hands full of plastic bags. Weeks pass and Hollis decides to use the outhouse. And as she’s using it, she looks down, and there, in the outhouse, is her father’s head looking straight back at her.”

“...You are so full of shit.” John B protested, throwing his head back and walking off.

“Wait! Dude…” JJ grabbed his best friend by the shoulder. “You sure you wanna do this? She’s an axe murderer and… you got a cast on.” 

“I don’t give a shit, JJ.” John B said angrily. “I’ve got nothing to lose, right?” He threw the blonde’s words back at him. “You guys comin’ or what?” He spat before continuing his journey further onto the Crain property, the rest of you reluctantly following.

Stopping in what seemed to be a garden just a handful of feet from the front door, John B turned around. “Here's the plan. We need to look for the wheat near the water, like it said in Denmark’s Letter.”

“What kind of water? Like, pond water?” Pope replied.

JJ chuckled. “Bong water?” He tried to joke. John B just twisted his face and ignored at his childish tactics.

“Look, I don’t know, just look for water.” He demanded before continuing to lead the group. He crept around the foundation of the house, crouching in front of a small entrance that led under the structure. “C’mon, it’s the only place we haven’t looked.” He urged the four of you, turning on his flashlight and crawling through the entrance as the rest of you piled in, single-file behind him.

You coughed as you stood to your full height and dust filled your lungs. The crawlspace was filthy, smelly, and festering with mosquitos. You clicked on your mini flashlight, scanning the space. 

“There’s not even water on the pipes.” JJ judged, rubbing his palm against the pipes that were so dry, the interaction sounded like nails on sandpaper. 

“There’s not a drop of water here...” Pope said, irritated.

“Know why we didn’t find it?” Kie sighed, turning her sights to John B. “Bad karma.”

“God, here we go…” JB rolled his eyes.

“We had a good thing going. And then you decide to rope in Barbie and now, trail’s gone dry. Coincidence? I don't think so.” The brown-haired girl mouthed-off. 

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you about Sarah. What the hell’s the deal with you two?” Then his eyes landed on you, standing a few feet behind Kie between Pope and JJ who were also listening in on the not-so-hushed conversation. “You three.”

“I just got bit by three fatass mosquitos, I’d like to opt out of this particular conversation-” You spoke with a snarl, swatting another mosquito that flew across your vision as Kie’s voice sounded out again, cutting off yours.

“Nothing’s the deal.” She spat, offended.

“Is it because I kissed you? Is that your problem?” John B’s head whipped to the side when Kiara’s palm made harsh contact with his cheek, the remaining three of you making simultaneous ‘O’ faces of shock from the sidelines. 

“Stop treating me like I’m some girl who’s obsessed with you instead of your best friend who’s actually trying to look out for you.” She reprimanded sternly.

“Did you, uh, hit me?” John B grimaced, turning back to face her. Kiara simply held up her right hand, her backs to the three of you.

“Skeeter.” Was all she said.

“Skeeter?”

“Yeah.” Then John B was slapping her back. You threw your hands up in the air as Pope exclaimed and JJ chuckled at the two.

“Woah, hey!” Pope threw out, then John B was holding up his right hand, this time with his palm on display since he was facing you all, presenting a flattened mosquito stuck to his palm. 

“Skeeter.” He retorted firmly, eyes squinted. They started playfully slapping each other’s faces and arms back and forth as the remaining portion of you went back to looking once the show had ended. You flashed your light up and down, side to side but still nothing. And the mosquitos were eating you from the inside out…

Mosquitos. 

Why were there so many mosquitos in a basement? 

Aiming your flashlight down, you started tapping the toe of your foot lightly against the ground, catching a certain blonde’s attention.

“Tap dancing, are we?”

“No. Mosquitos.” You dismissed him in your focus, stepping up onto a wooden platform and tapping your foot on top of it. It sounded hollow. You paused, kneeling on top of the structure and knocking on it, still hearing that same hollowed-out echo. 

“Yes, princess, there are mosquitos everywhere.”

You sighed, shining your light through the crack in the planks but it was pitch black. “Mosquitos swarm near water.” You told JJ. “Still water. They need it to hatch eggs. So, why would so many mosquitos be in a basement with seemingly no water?” You almost sounded like you were talking to yourself with the way you were mumbling, looking for something small, your sights landed on a small pebble in the gravel under the house, picking it up before dropping it through a space between the wood. Planting your ear against the ground, you waited, until seconds after dropping the stone, you heard water splash.

“You find somethin’?” JJ asked, you being unaware that he was still watching you. You turned to him with your full attention now.

“Help me move this.” You whispered to him, already starting to pull the planks up in a frenzy. The other three pogues seemed to notice that the two of you had found something and started to help move the planks until a good chunk of them were out of the way.

The five of stared down as a well stared back at you, a least a couple dozen feet deep. 

“Well, well, well…” Pope muttered in the ring of silence.

“That was a good dad joke.” John B told him, never taking his eyes off the well, a smirk breaking out on his features. “We’re gonna need a really big rope.”

“NO FUCKING WAY.” Kiara spat, pacing the patio of The Chateau — Sarah Cameron was sat next to John B, presenting as unbothered as ever. You sat on the farthest cushion right across from JJ and Pope. “You brought her here? So what? She’s in on this now?”

John B looked to his two guy friends for help, Pope simply shrugging his shoulders and muttering an ‘I dunno’ before JJ threw his hands out. “All I care about is her cut coming out of your share.” He directed at JB, pointing his finger for emphasis. 

“This is our thing.” Kiara scolded, pointing to everyone but Sarah to further prove her point. 

“I’m just a tad uncomfortable with this…” Pope added. 

“When are you not uncomfortable?” John B tried to defend the blonde girl.

“I rode here on the back of JJ’s bike pretty comfortably.” The curly-haired boy sassed back from JJ’s side. 

“It’s true. Most relaxed I’ve ever seen him.” 

“We were all comfortable until you brought her.” Kiara shot out, not making eye contact with Sarah, who had finally had enough.

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here!” Was the first thing the blonde girl had said since her arrival.

“I mean, you could always go home. Just a thought…” You spoke nonchalantly, shrugging from your seat across the patio. Sarah eyed you meanly before looking at John B, scoffing.

“I told you.” Your eyes squinted and your head tilted to the side.

“Told him what, exactly? That your a liar?” Kiara argued before Sarah’s attention whipped around to her.

“No, that you’re a shit-talking bitch.” She told Kie, turning to you next. “And you’re a lying slut.”

Chaos broke out — voices over voices, JJ and Pope betting money as the three of you argued over one another.

“When have I ever lied to you, Kiara?!”

“You get somebody close to you for like a month and then completely turn your back on them-”

“I’m a slut? I’m sorry, how many boyfriends have you cheated on? This year alone?-”

“Everybody, shut up!” John B stopped the arguing. “Kie, Y/n, you are my best friends, right?” Both of you just looked away, giving him his answer but not the satisfaction of hearing it. “And Sarah, you’re…”

“...Say it.” She said, a sly smile on her face.

“...You’re my girlfriend.” John B proclaimed, a boy-ish grin on his face. You couldn’t help but groan and throw your head back, all eyes turning to you as you brought your angry gaze back down.

“You met her like three whole days ago, John B.” You fussed, crossing your arms over one another. “What happened to using her for information? And I quote ‘getting what we need and cutting her loose’?”

“...You said you were using me?” Sarah asked her “boyfriend” sadly. 

John B shook his head in the smallest of motions, avoiding her eyes at all costs. “No.”

“Yeah, you did.” Pope refuted his claim. “You said those things...”

“Look, love just walked in, okay?” He tried to reason with you all but you couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.

“Three days!” You laughed out. 

“I didn’t expect it, it just kind of happened. And I’m not gonna deny it.” He continued, ignoring you. 

“Well,” you got up from your seated position, hands slapping your knees. “If Clueless is in, count me out.” You told him, hands in your back pockets. 

He shrugged like a child. “I’m not choosing, if that's what you're getting at.” He stated bluntly. You nodded your head, biting the inside of your cheek and looking around before deciding to walk off, heading for the dock.

“JUST CONSIDER IT.” JJ threw out the idea from his place beside you, leaning against the wood of the pier in front of The Chateau, Kiara and Pope having a separate conversation in front of you.

“I’m not considering anything, JJ.”

“You don’t have to like it. None of us do. But John B isn’t willing to choose and we can’t do this without you.”

“John B clearly can. He knew how we felt about her and he did everything we advised him not to do.” You snarled, looking out at the water. “None of you know her, not really. You think I just up and decided to hate Sarah Cameron one day? No.” You scoffed. “She creates a false sense of security and then when you start to rely on her, she uses it all against you.”

You both sat in silence, JJ not wanting to question you any further for the moment.

“What if he chooses her?” JJ asked you after a couple moments passed. You brought your eyes back to his, wind blowing your hair in your field of vision, voice small as you spoke.

“Then he’s a worse friend than I thought he was.”

YOU DECIDED TO MAKE YOUR WAY HOME AFTER WHAT WENT DOWN WITH JOHN B. You didn’t intend on making him choose between you or Sarah but you felt as if this whole thing had spiraled out of control. Maybe the biggest part was that you felt lied to. He promised there was nothing happening between them and when it came down to it, he couldn’t even make a decision between two of his life-long best friends and a girl he met less than a week ago. Something behind his logic, or lack of, struck a nerve within you. 

Opening the front door to your Figure Eight home, you were greeted with two muddy paws against your thighs.

“Aww, Marley!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands out to the sides. “What did you get into?” You shook your head, patting the stains on your denim shorts as you kicked the door closed behind you and walked to peer out of the patio door, seeing holes galore in the backyard. You looked down at the animal, hand on your hip. “You know, she’s gonna flip.” You told the dog as if she could reply back.

Her fur was covered in brown and black, muddy paw prints left behind by her pattering feet. You just sighed, bending down to scratch the top of her head as she leaned into your hand. “Guess it’s my fault for leavin’ you. I’d go crazy if I was stuck here alone with her, too. C’mon,” You threw your head out in the direction of the garage door. “Let’s hose you off so I can cover your tracks.”

You started walking but stopped when you didn’t hear Marley trailing behind you. You peered back over your shoulder to see her sitting patiently. “No, absolutely not.” Was your reply to her pleading puppy-eyes, a whine leaving her closed lips. “I am not picking you up, Marley. You’re a big girl, c’mon.” The golden retriever made no move. “I’ll give you a treat after. You wanna a treat, girl?” 

Her ears perked up in the slightest of motions and suddenly the medium-sized dog was sprinting towards you, basically running into the garage door that was still closed. You just giggled, opening the door for her to run out and hop into the metal tub in the parking space that was bought especially for her. Tying your hair back and grabbing the length of the hose, you started to hose down your mess of a dog.

YOU WERE SOAKED BY THE END OF MARLEY’S BATH. You smelled of Pumpkin Spice pet shampoo and wet dog, strands of golden hair stuck to your arms and legs as you rinsed out the tub and let it flow down the driveway. The dog in question was probably running a muck in your room where you’d locked her so you could clean up in peace — covering up the holes in the backyard to the best of your ability and mopping the floors. 

Once the dog-tub was water-free, you kicked it back to it’s original position in the corner of the garage. The sound of your mother’s SUV pulling up into the driveway could be heard as you turned the hose off and put it away. She must not have seen you in the dark of the garage as she got out of the car, heels hitting the concrete as she slammed the driver’s side door shut. Her cell phone was pressed between her shoulder and ear and she fought to get her purse up onto her arm.

“I don’t care what you do, Cameron. Or how you do it for that matter. Just do something because this is both of our asses on the line.” She spat to whoever was on the other end of the line — Cameron? Maybe it was a new hire at the office.

Her eyes shot up and seemed to finally register your presence, a look of shock filling her features for a moment before it faded into something else. Something more irritated. “We’ll talk about this later. Hopefully, you’ll have gotten rid of the problem by then.” Was all she said before hanging up.

You had turned back around at this point, focused on putting Marley’s bath supplies back into their respective cabinets and shelves. 

“I didn’t expect you home.”

“Neither did I.” You replied bluntly.

“You know, it’d be nice if you could be home more often. You still have responsibilities, and that dog does whatever it wants.”

You stood to your full height, facing her now as you crossed your arms. “I could say the same for you.”

She scoffed, shifting her weight. “I have work. A job. You just run around with your delinquent friends all day and night. Your room is empty for days on end.”

You shrugged, jutting your bottom lip out. “What are you lonely, or something? We barely talk when I am home.”

“You want to talk? Let’s talk.” She crossed her own arms, staring you down.

“Not really-”

“I heard John B had a pretty nasty fall from The Hawk’s Nest last night and you and your friends were there.” You veered your neck back at her statement, a look of offense written across your face.

“What’re you keeping tabs on me now?” 

She just shrugged and shifted, pointing her chin towards the ceiling as if she knew she had you cornered. “Word travels fast on the island. The real question is what were you kids doing up there in the middle of a thunderstorm? Everything I hear about that little posse of yours is dangerous.”

All you could was laugh humorlessly, pushing yourself off of the garage wall and heading for the door back inside of the house. “I’m not doing this with you.” You told the woman, shaking your head. 

“Answer the question, Y/n!” She called after you, following you into the three-story house and slamming the garage door closed behind her.

“No! I’m covered in mud, water, and dog hair and you’re pissing me off!” You were practically stomping up the stairs. “Everytime I come back to this house you interrogate me. Calling my friends delinquents as if these aren't kids you’ve known for years!”

“Well, clearly I have good reason to-” You stopped at the top of the stairs, turning and staring down at your mother who was still at the bottom, making no moves to follow you up. 

“Maybe it’s time I question you because I have a fair few of my own.” You spat. “How did you find about the Hawk’s Nest because there were only six of us there when it happened? When did you and Shoupe get all buddy-buddy? Or better yet, how’d you manage to scrape up the money to buy a house on Figure Eight so suddenly? And don’t think I’m dumb enough to believe my father’s life insurance was enough to cover it.”

She didn’t say anything. Anything at all. Your mother just stared up at you with a look on her face that you’d never seen before it. It was angry, dark — borderline evil. It made your heart thump out of your chest and your knees get weak. It was a look that a parent should never direct at their child. 

With one last glare, you turned your back and went into your own bathroom to clean yourself up, not neglecting to slam the door behind you.

YOU SIGHED AS YOU HOPPED FROM THE HMS POGUE ONTO HEYWARD’S BOAT. After your shower, Pope had picked you up from the short pier in the back of your house with Kie lounging in the boat. He said something about JJ and John B needing a tow after conking out in the middle of The Marsh.

Approaching Heyward’s boat that was still in the middle of The Marsh, you and Kie edged towards the front of the HMS Pogue, preparing to step off. Extending your legs, you made it onto the other boat without fail, Kiara following you into the Alp where the two boys in question were.

“What did you do?” You asked annoyed, still reeling from the events of earlier — both of them. 

“The alternators not…alternating, anymore.” JJ told you, throwing his hands out. 

“Did you check the plugs?” Kiara suggested, stepping in front of you and approaching the boys as you leaned on the entryway. 

“No, you should check ‘em. Give ‘em whirl.” They handed her whatever tool they’d been using, stepping away.

“You guys are useless…” You let the two guys walk by you, stepping further into the space with Kie. “Uh, is this a joke? There are no plugs, like at all.” She muttered.

Suddenly, you heard water splashing, turning around and walking back out to see that JJ and John B had jumped into the water and were swimming towards the HMS Pogue that was getting farther and farther away.

“What’re you-” You started, cut off by the sound of banging coming from below the deck of the boat.

“John B! John B, let me out!” Came an unmistakable voice. In a haste, you lifted the hatch in the floor, coming face to face with Sarah Cameron. Not giving her time to speak, you just huffed and ran towards the edge of the boat.

“What the fuck?!” You yelled at the three boys across the water, Kiara and Sarah on each side of you now. Both equally as angry as you. “Are you serious?” 

“Get your asses back here!” Kiara demanded.

“We can’t!” Pope shrugged with a sly smile. “Not until you three work out your issues!”  

“You can’t just leave!” Sarah tried.

“There’s food in the cabin and JJ rolled a blunt!” John B shouted back. The three of you ignored them, kicking off your overalls and stripping down to your bikinis.

“This is ridiculous…” The blonde girl muttered under her breath, kicking her shorts off of her ankles.

“Well, I’d rather drown than be here with you, so…” Kiara retorted, taking her shirt off. 

“Fine. Be my guest. Maybe you’ll finally shut the hell up.” Sarah shot back. 

“You don’t even know where you’re going.” The two girls continued arguing as the three boys drifted farther away.

“I don’t care.” Was all the Cameron girl said back before jumping into the Marsh water, just as Pope revved up the engine on the smaller boat and they sped away. Sarah cursed them before turning around and swimming back to the boat, screaming and going under before popping back up.

“Ah! I got stung by a jellyfish! Shit!” She cried, still swimming back to the boat.

You rolled your eyes and turned away from her, fixing the ties on your swim suit. “Maybe next time don’t jump into The Marsh.” You reprimanded meanly.

“Thanks for the advice, after the fact.” She retorted, climbing onto the boat and sliding against the side.

“It’s not like you listen anyway...” You shrugged, leaning against the boat. 

“Kiara, you know what they say about curing jellyfish stings,” Sarah ignored you, talking through heavy breaths and looking up at the brown-haired girl. “You have to pee on me.”

The girl simply cringed. “I have a better idea.”

NIGHT HAD FALLEN AND YOU WERE SURE THE GUYS WEREN’T COMING BACK FOR THE THREE OF YOU ANYTIME SOON. The night air was cool and Sarah was high off of the weed left behind, courtesy of JJ himself. She’d been laughing and talking about nothing non-stop for the last hour.

Kie was sat next to her in the cockpit of the boat while you sat on the hardtop, swinging your feet.

“Hey,” Sarah piped up, interrupting her own giggling. “Would you rather…have, I was imagining you like this just now, it was pretty funny.” She was directing the question at Kiara. “Would you imagi- would you rather…have nipples for eyes or have eyes for nipples? Imagine if you get really old and your nipples, your boobs get saggy, your nipples, if they were your eyes, you could see if your shoes were untied.” 

She attempted to laugh it off in her impaired state but took the hint when Kie gave her a side glance, no humor present in her expression. “Is this like your first time smoking or something?” 

“...No.” Sarah said lowly, looking down.

“Could’ve fooled me.” You muttered, annoyed by the girls incessant laughter and talking. 

After a couple moments of tense silence, Sarah attempted to speak again. “Hey, Kiara…”

“Oh my God.” She cut her off. “Enough the ‘Hey, Kiara’ bullshit.” She turned her entire body to face the blonde, a hard look in her eyes. “Why’d you do it?”

“...Why’d I do what?” Sarah played dumb.

“We were best friends.” Kiara started solemnly. “We stole beers from your dad’s fridge, we watched movies together, we cried about boys...” She reminisced. “And the next thing I know, the entire school thinks I have a crush on you because you started a rumor that I did.”

“It was just a joke.” Sarah tried to dismiss, rolling her eyes.

“To who? Because it wasn’t funny for me. And when it spun out of control? When it went from people saying I had a crush on you to saying I tried to kiss you? To saying I was stalking you? That I had a shrine? Was it still just a joke then?” She reprimanded. “You never even bothered to clear it up. Just fed into it. You just cut me off like nothing happened. I mean, really, what did I do?”

You continued watching the interaction happen from the hardtop of the boat. “You liked me.” Sarah blurted. “...When people get close to me, I feel trapped. And…I bail. And then I blame them for it.” She got out, turning to look Kiara in the eyes. “I’m really sorry…And I miss you.” Then her eyes were on you. “Both of you. Do you think there’s a chance that we could be okay again?” She was looking at Kiara again.

“Honestly. I don’t know.” Sarah simply nodded and bit her lip, accepting the answer before turning her sights to you once more. 

“Y/n?” She called. You assumed she was waiting for your answer to the same question, all you could manage was a huff of air to leave your lips. 

“What a bunch of bullshit.” You breathed out, an incredulous smile on your face as you looked away for moment. You could hear Kiara sigh.

“Y/n-”

“No, Kiara. If you want to forgive her, by all means be my guest. But me and you?” Your eyes were on Sarah, glaring at her. “We will never be ‘okay’ again.” You mocked.

“What do you want from me?” Sarah spat out. “I apologized-”

“You apologized to Kie. Not me.”

“Well, I’m sorry. For…whatever I did.” She slurred, slouching further against the inside of the boat.

“Whatever you did?”

“You were the one sneaking around with my brother, Y/n!”

“And you're still downplaying the situation! That’s not what happened nor is it why our friendship ended and you know it.” You disputed, anger filling your tone.

“Our friendship ended because you tried to make the situation into something it wasn’t.”

“You never even considered the possibility that what I told you was true. You called me a liar, turned me into the school slut-”

“He’s my brother.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s not a bad person, Sarah!” You said with finality in your voice. “And if you can’t see that, then maybe that makes two of you.” Was the last thing you said before hopping down from the top of the boat and disappearing around the corner, away from the two girls. 

THE THREE OF YOU SAT ON THE EDGE OF THE BOAT, WATCHING THE BOYS ARRIVE AS THE SUN CAME UP. You’d slept in the helm of the boat while Kiara and Sarah slept out in the open. You hated to admit how lonely you felt hearing them giggle in the middle of the night but it was quickly overshadowed by the memories of what was said between you and Sarah. A small part of you wondered how Kiara could forgive her so quickly. So easily.

“Let’s not give them the satisfaction of thinking this worked.” Kiara whispered to the blonde next to her. You simply kept quiet. Because for you, it didn’t.

“So, did you guys, you know…” Pope led on as the smaller boat parked next to the bigger one. You said nothing as you hopped off the edge, from one boat to the other. 

“Reconcile our differences?” Kie finished for him.

“Nope. Not even a little.” Sarah shook her head. “But we’re…willing to work together?” She said, turning to Kiara who nodded in agreement as they both stepped onto the HMS Pogue. 

“You know what? That’s victory.” JB cheered, dapping up Pope. “You guys ready to jack some loot?”

YOU ALL WAITED UNTIL IT GOT DARK ONCE MORE TO RETURN TO THE CRAIN PROPERTY, FULL PREPARED THIS TIME. Rope, pulley, flashlights. You were equipped with the gold-mine starter kit and ready to throw John B down into a well beneath a murder-house.

Parking in front of the house but still out of sight, John B hopped out of the driver’s side to round the van and open the side door, pausing. “I wanna say thank you guys. Seriously.” He told the five of you whole-heartedly. “It means a lot to me that you’re here tonight.”

“Of course, man.” Pope assured him softly, giving him a special handshake. 

“All right, we done with this circle jerk?” JJ cut in. “Can we go do this?” 

“Let’s go get that wheat in the water.” Pope exclaimed, jumping out of the van first, followed by Kie, then Sarah.

“Weed? I’m up for weed.” JJ said, letting you get out before him. You rolled your eyes, a small smile breaking on your face as you climbed out of the van. The first one in hours.

“Wheat, J. He said wheat.” You corrected. You all formed a sort of single-file line, hopping the fence one by one. You all walked as quietly as you could through the tall grass and bushes, sticking as close together as possible. Out of the blue, a light in front of the house lit up your frames, the six of you scrambling to duck and hide, turning your flashlights off.

“Why would a blind lady need motion sensor lights?” You hissed frustratedly confused. 

“Let’s throw a rock at it.” John B offered. You all looked at him stupidly.

“That’s a really good idea. Let the axe murderer know that we’re here.” Kiara said sarcastically. 

“Do any of you have a better idea?” 

“What about the breaker in the circuit box on the porch?” Sarah asked. “We used to play hide-and-seek here as kids and if we were brave enough, we’d go all the way up to the porch.”

“No, no, you’re not going into the house alone.” John B protested.

“I’ll go with you.” Kiara volunteered herself before turning to you. You simply raised a brow as if to ask ‘what?’. Only then did you notice that the rest of the group was staring at you as well, then you got the hint, smacking your teeth.

“Christ, fine, I’ll go, too. Just… stop looking at me like hungry orphans.” You mumbled, getting up and walking towards the house, slightly crouched.

“We’ll wait for your signal!” Pope whisper-shouted as the three of you disappeared into the thick of the bushes. You let Sarah lead the way, seeing as she had an idea of where you were going and what you were looking for.

“She must have a generator plugged into the main power supply.” Sarah informed from the front of the line. The three of you crept up the porch steps, the wood creaking ever so slightly as you did. You aimed your flashlight at the circuit box in question, using your empty hand to open it. You quickly noted a problem.

“Where are the breakers?” Your face twisted in confusion, visually following the wires that were connected to the box. “It goes inside.” You said annoyed, pushing the circuit box door back closed. You turned back to the two girls behind you, a weary look shared amongst the three of you before Kie took it upon herself to carefully open the gate in front of the back door, twisting the knob quickly but quietly.

Pushing the door open, the three of you slid inside swiftly as the door creaked, making your face twist. You all treaded carefully through the dark home. You nearly jumped out of your skin when a cat yowled beside you.

“Shi- get out of here you mangy thing!” You whispered, pushing the feline away with the toe of your shoe. You follow the wires on the ceiling to the location of the breakers, Kiara wasting little time in switching the generator off, the house and surrounding areas going pitch black as she did.

You all let out sighs of relief, small victorious smiles breaking out on each of your faces. “We should probably get out of here now.” You advised, the other two agreeing. You hadn’t even lifted your foot to step away before a whirring sound echoed throughout the house, the three of you throwing yourselves against the wall and out of sight of whatever was around the corner.

You could barely hear one another breathing, contemplating whether you should stay put or make a break for it. It wasn’t long before you heard the sound of heavy-breathing and what sounded like a cane hitting the floor accompanied by delayed footsteps. 

You could feel your heart in throat as you tried your hardest not to move a muscle, the footsteps growing closer by the second. Fear rushing through your veins when you heard a voice call out.

“It’s late, Leon.” An old, raspy, elderly voice spoke — Mrs. Crain. “Too late...” She coughed, cane still hitting the floor ferociously with every step. You swore you could’ve cried when the woman in question rounded the corner, standing right in front of you three with no clue. “I can hear you, Leon. I’ve been waiting all night!” She screeched, whipping her head in your direction so fast you were surprised her neck didn’t snap in the process.

Her teeth were yellow, her hair was dead and gray, and her eyes were white. Pure white. The three of you screamed simultaneously before booking it in the direction you came. You don’t know how you ended up splitting from each other but you did. You ended up in some old dusty study-type room, the only exit being a window. You ran over to it, using all your strength to pull it up but it wouldn’t budge.

“Where are you, Leon?!” Her voice scratched your ears with the way it echoed. You cursed as you continued pulling at the window, eventually giving up and running out of the room. Fortunately, you ran in just time to find Mrs. Crain swinging aimlessly at Kiara with a fire poker. You took the opportunity to grab the object when she swung it back once more, snatching it and throwing it across the room.

Sarah entered just as the old lady turned around and gripped you by the arm, the blonde grabbing Kiara as you pushed Mrs. Crain off of you and ran into the room with the other two. Sarah closed and latched the door shut, Mrs. Crain banging from the other side. 

She’d managed to find the stairs the led under the house where the guys were, you and Kiara following her down in a hurry. 

“Guys!” All three of you called, sprinting through the crawlspace. 

“Woah, what’s goin’ on?” JJ asked as you accidentally ran into him, the blonde stabilizing by your upper arms.

“Mrs. Crain is up there. She’s trying to kill us with a fire poker.” Kiara breathed out. 

“We locked her in the parlor but we have to go. Like, now.” You said frantically. 

“Okay, code red.” JJ said, releasing your arms and heading back towards Pope. He leaned over the well, shouting down. “John B! Get back on, man!” The rest of you grabbed the length of the rope, using all of your man power to pull the boy back up when the you all fell, the rope pulling up nothing.

“Where is he?” Kiara panicked, crawling to the well to lean over it. “John B?!” His voice came back up but no one could tell what he was saying. It was just a faint echo. His next words were clearer, however — he was calling your names.

“He’s drowning! We gotta pull him up!” Sarah assumed the worst as you scrambled to grab the rope again. 

“John B? Get back on the rope, we’re gonna pull you up!” Pope called down into the well. Once JB affirmed that he was secured, the five of you began pulling once more, much more synchronized this time. You were using all the strength you had to pull him up when a gunshot made your ears ring.

You ducked, as did the rest of the group, your grip on the rope loosening. Pope and JJ hurried to tie the rope so it wouldn’t drop any further as you all scurried around the crawlspace, hoping the blind woman would think you were gone.

Only problem? None of you knew how to shut the hell up. Another shot rang out and that’s when you all decided you had to make a run for it. You saw John B’s muddy hand gripped the edge of the well before you bolted, knowing he’d be a little behind but just fine. You sprinted out into the yard, practically launched yourself back over the gate and threw yourselves into the van.

JJ started the van without John B inside as more gunshots sounded, the boy running behind his own van for dear life. 

“John B, come on!” The boy caught up, launching himself into the back of the van and sliding the door shut as JJ sped off. 

“Everyone okay? No bullet holes?” JJ questioned from the driver’s seat.

“I think I’d know if I was shot, right?” Kiara asked, hands patting her frame. 

“You look disgusting.” Pope breathed out, the statement directed at John B who looked more like a mud-man than a teenage boy.

“And you smell even worse, my God.” Your face winded with disgust. 

“What the hell just happened?” Sarah ran her hands through her hair, throwing her head back.

“All-time Pogue Hall of Fame, baby!” JJ cheered, giving you a high-five as you basically sat back to back as he drove.

“That bitch is possessed.” Kiara said.

“How can she move that fast?” John B breathed out, and you wondered how he could talk without minding the substance all over his face, including his lips.

Suddenly, John B pulled something from his pocket or under his thigh, it was hard to tell when he was the same color all over. “What is that?” You asked, squinting your eyes as he used his thumb to wipe away the debris on the object, revealing the unmistakable color of gold. “...No motherfucking way.” You scoffed.

“We did it, baby!” He whooped, holding the gold bar up in the air. “I did it!”

“Oh, my God!” JJ supported him as he drove, eyes looking back when they should on the road. The van was filled with cheers, so loud you were sure any houses you passed on the road could hear. 

“You guys were gonna be rich!” Kiara broke through the cheers. “Like Kook rich!”

“Full Kook!” Pope started, the rest of you joining in joyously. The Twinkie had never been more lively or celebratory. After days of being chased, shot at, arrested, jumped, and targeted — you all had done it.

You had found the gold.

next chapter >

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

SVN Taglist; (let me know if you'd like to be added!) @esquivelbianca @fallingwallsh @calmoistorm @i-love-ptv @liability28 @rivaiken @sophiahristov @rafxcameronss @ldrvinyl @purplerose291 @boo22sstuff @heartsforandrewgarfield (striked means i'm unable to tag you!)

©loveharlow.

[baphometsss]

We need to talk about spirit hand!Inquisitor

I've been trying to put this into words for a while but it's really tricky to explain. I'm gonna try anyway bc I feel like it's an important discussion to have

First though, a disclaimer: I'm not physically disabled. Everything I'm about to say is based on me trying to relate through my own experiences of mental illness, the experiences of a disabled family member who uses a prosthetic leg, and research into how to write disabled characters properly in my own personal projects (thanks to cripplecharacters blog for helping me understand it better!) So, you know, you can take it or leave it--and please feel free to add your own experiences! This isn't a call out post or anything, I'm just trying to put my thoughts into words and start a conversation in good faith

The problem with fanworks where the inquisitor's wooden prosthetic is replaced by a magic/spirit hand is that it falls into a really tiresome trope where the character has the limb replaced with a magical prosthetic that essentially nixes the disability entirely. It's called the Cool Robot Arm or Perfect Prosthetic trope and it plays into disability erasure in a big way. This is pretty frustrating when you know having a limb amputated is a big deal that comes with a lot of pain and long-term effects, even if the amputation procedure itself was free of complications. Prosthetics are also basically a whole thing of their own, but suffice to say they also come with their risks and problems as well.

The thing with representation is that it needs to reflect real life experiences if its going to approach anything good or meaningful. Video games like Dragon Age often attempt to do this, but they also often miss the mark. I know a lot of disabled (and able-bodied) people want to see better representation of disability in media, but when that fails, we have the opportunity to do better in our fanworks. It feels like a lot DAI/DATV fanworks jump into the magical prosthetic trope far too easily and without very much thought for how it negatively impacts that representation. The Inquisitor becomes disabled through losing their left hand, and that would be a complicated journey for them. This is not a part of their character that can be written away without losing a huge part of their story--regardless of how we role-play them.

For me personally, I try to balance it out by being realistic about both the prosthetic, the spirit hand, and the remaining limb. For example, prosthetics rub and cause blisters and other skin conditions. They can be bulky and heavy and cause musculoskeletal problems. Residual limb pain is thing and can be chronic and debilitating. Learning to use a prosthetic usually requires physical therapy, and some people just prefer not to use prosthetics at all, or only some of the time or for specific tasks. Much of the discourse around prosthetics is focused on making them indistinguishable from a natural limb, when practicality and comfort should really be the focus and not this ableist idea that differently limbed people should want a prosthetic that looks identical to the one that was lost. There are so many potential stories that can be written about this experience, yet we almost never see any of them. My mage Inquisitor has a spirit hand, but she doesn't use it much because it's difficult to maintain both that and use offensive magic in battle, and she doesn't have the mental energy to use it 100% of the time. It's also not that easy to use, even when she does have the energy. She only really uses it occasionally anyway (usually to make random shapes with it to amuse other people) and prefers her prosthetic.

To put it another way--consider how deaf/HoH people who get cochlear implants often continue to use sign language afterwards anyway, even if the procedure was successful. This is because a. it's their first language, which means verbal language is a new language to them and b. gaining hearing after a long period without it can be extremely difficult to adjust to. It can be overwhelming and even painful. The point is that just because aids and treatments exist, it doesn't mean that they're a one size fits all and each individual person will have their own journey in figuring it out. That's one of the things we should be writing about, rather than just nixing it away with a magic limb because it's the easier route and it doesn't require us to consider writing outside of our own experiences. And don't get me wrong, I get that it's scary. You don't wanna upset people with your writing or make them feel even more alienated. But you have to start somewhere and be willing to listen to criticism if you're going to get better.

Furthermore: ableism for sure exists in Thedas. Can you imagine how that would affect the Inquisitor? How they'd adjust from being revered as the Herald of Andraste with a divine mark on their hand to being almost killed by it? How their political enemies would use their disability against them? How they would be affected emotionally by having to deal with that ableism potentially for the first time? Would they find community among other veterans who have become disabled through conflict? Or would they isolate themselves and carry the burden alone? Would they experience mental health issues because of it? These are all examples of how ableism affects real people. Of course, none of this is negated by the spirit hand, but it's something I've seen very little attention given in fanworks.

For me personally, I also try to think of this through my own experiences of mental illness. I have chronic depression/Dysthymia, which is not exactly the same as clinical depression. It follows similar patterns to other mood disorders like Bipolar Disorder in that it's cyclical; my baseline is being moderately depressed, and then every 2 or 3 months I will go into 'double depression' which is where I experience an intensification of symptoms that mimic going into an initial depressed state, while aggravating the symptoms I already have. It's hard to explain it, but suffice to say, it requires me to take medication to control it. I don't like it, but it's the way my brain is wired up and I've been told by multiple professionals that I will always have to take medication for it (antidepressants and antipsychotics, although I don't take the antipsychotics atm). This medication causes a variety of annoying side effects that I have to accept as a trade off so I don't regress too far.

This is just one of the mental health conditions I have to contend with, but it's one that probably effects my life the most. I know it's not comparable to amputation or other physical disabilities and I'm not trying to say it is. But I use it to understand writing for disabled characters by, in conjunction with my research, empathising, by thinking of how much it would bother me if someone wrote about my life and did everything they could to ignore this very prominent part of who I am. I would have to ask why they were so keen to ignore it. Dysthymia doesn't define me, it's not something I'm 'proud' of per se, but it does affect a big part of my life; I've struggled with it every day since I was 10 or 11--so of course it's shaped who I am. I use it to imagine how frustrating it would be if someone tried to cover up or negate this part of me and then dressed it up with something like... idk. Magical anti-depression goggles or something, or worse still decided to make my story all about the goggles. It would make me feel like I wasn't a person with experiences worth writing about, that I would be fine if it weren't for this illness I undeniably have and can't help having. That my illness is akin to a personality flaw--an ableist assumption that Dysthymia sufferers in particular have to deal with, because it's a depression that does not go away and people think it's just our personality rather than an illness.

I personally found these posts x x x really helpful in figuring out how to write my inquisitor. Tbh cripplecharacters is invaluable anyway, especially their 'magic aids' tag for writing Inky. I really strongly recommend that you read them before writing about your inquisitor's prosthetic and their perspective on losing their arm. Listening to actual disabled people when writing disabled characters is the most important part of the process and it'll only make your work better. You really have nothing to lose by doing it.

Like I said, I'm not trying to call anyone out. I have most likely missed the mark just in writing this post, because it's not my personal experience. I do think the spirit hand is a cool concept. It's just not a quick fix and writing about it needs to be done more consciously than I think most people do.

[possibilistfanfiction]

caitvi: funeral :)

[i see u all trying to get me to write angst don't think i don't! but this is v little angst & mostly sweet, once again i love sisters. jinx pov, little continuation of this silly au if u are interested.]

//

‘are you attending some funeral i don’t know about, or —‘

vi huffs, straightening her collar in the mirror by the front door. ‘it’s a nice outfit.’

‘sure.’ to be fair, she is in nice black slacks — possibly her only pair of pants other than her firefighter uniform that don’t have a rip somewhere — and chelsea boots without too many scuffs, and those are fine on their own, but paired with a black, long-sleeve button up and a black trench coat — yours, thank you very much — she looks kind of ridiculous. ‘if you’re a caterer. or, you know, a pall bearer.’

she groans, flopping down on your couch in very overdone despair. and people say you’re dramatic. ‘well then you fix it.’

you’d known vi was nervous for days now, which you think is ridiculous. you’ve already climbed twice indoors again with caitlyn and jayce, so it’s not like they haven’t seen each other and subsequently flirted to no end; thankfully ekko had come the second time, so, along with jayce, you outnumbered them at least. vi had sent some monster stuff on lead, a great outcome of her nerves that was honestly sick to watch; she’s also showered every day and cooked you dinner when she’s not on shift, and she even got a real honest-to-god haircut at a real honest-to-god barber instead of your haphazard best with clippers and a pair of dull scissors every few months. she doesn’t look too different, really, a little neater if anything, but she carries herself with a self-consciousness — some mixture of deep care and a little embarrassment, maybe — that would be endearing and amusing if it wasn’t so tragic. seeing vi this stressed over a pretty (which you will admit aloud; you can see caitlyn) and cool (which you will never admit aloud) girl kind of makes your chest ache a little.

‘can do,’ you tell her, taking pity, and salute to off-set her frown. it works, just like it does every time, like it has since you were little, even if you feel kinda upset too. the idea of having to share vi with anyone, even if it’s a good thing and a good person, even if she definitely deserves to give her love — the best love — to someone, has been making you feel off, so you’ve been seeking out all the comfort you can. sometimes everything is too fast and too slow, the voices that have been so quiet these past few years, since vi got out of prison and you moved in with her and started university, knocking on your door, urgent. you’ve talked about it with your therapist and worked on adjusting your meds; you’ve tinkered in your room with the lights off when everything has been too loud; you’d sat in the park with ekko under your favorite tree, your head in his lap. you haven’t told vi explicitly, but she knows what’s going on, and she’s woken up from frequent nightmares before you’d been able to sleep lately, so you’d sat together on the couch, covered in soft blankets, and rewatched your favorite episodes of queer eye in the middle of the night, crying so hard you end up laughing as the sun comes up.

you have your own rooms now, after you upgraded to a bigger, much nicer apartment in a much safer area of town after she’d saved enough money and you’d gotten a work-study to help with the rent; she’d insisted on the smaller bedroom, because a lot of her shifts are overnight, but mostly you think it’s because she loves you and, in a lot of ways, is just trying to make up for lost time. you’d stopped being mad at her for getting arrested a long, long time ago, and, even though the voices are louder right now, they’ll fade, and you hope that knowing someone like caitlyn will help assuage vi of some of the guilt she’s always still carrying around.

you walk into her room first, scrounge around in her closet for the sweater you know she has because you bought it for her last birthday, hopeful for occasions just like this one, and emerge victorious. you put on your best tan france accent and pop a hip. ‘this, tucked into your pants, to match your eyes.’

vi nods seriously, even though she smiles at your impression. ‘good one, jinx.’

‘i know,’ you say. ‘i am the best dressed family member for a reason.’

vi is kind enough to not mention your current outfit of a ratty old fire department hoodie of hers that has long since been retired, sleep shorts with the elastic coming out of the waist, and mismatched socks, one slipping down your foot, but she does raise an eyebrow before shrugging out of the trench coat and unbuttoning her stupid shirt. the sweater you had picked out, and saved for, for months, is tight enough you can see her muscles, but loose enough she doesn’t look like an asshole; it’s a soft cashmere with a cool mock turtleneck you think fits her well. you nod in approval and venture to the coat closet while she tucks it in, and then bring her a leather jacket that had been vander’s once upon a time, you’re pretty sure, so it’s oversized on vi, but, ‘very cool,’ you say.

she looks at herself in the mirror and her shoulders relax; you know you did a good job, so you grin and pat yourself on the back. vi rolls her eyes but she laughs and wraps you up in a hug anyway.

‘are you wearing cologne?’ you mumble into her shoulder.

‘is it too much?’

‘no,’ you assure; it’s musky, with a little bit of smoke: warm. ‘it smells nice, actually. good taste for once.’

you feel her smile on the top of your head, and then she takes a serious breath.

you back up so you can really look at her. ‘caitlyn is, like, fine and all,’ you say, ‘and i will detonate a bomb if you tell anyone i said this, but you’re the coolest person i know.’

her eyes start to get a little watery so you wrinkle your nose and shove her; she barely moves, she’s so strong, but it does get her to sniffle into a smile. ‘you sure you’re okay with this? i know things have been harder for you lately.’

she wouldn’t ask if she didn’t really care, about both you and caitlyn. ‘yeah, sis,’ you say, and you mean it. ‘i’m sure.’

vi’s smile is too bright for you to feel otherwise, honestly. she putters around a little in front of the mirror again, and then you hear the buzzer. you scramble past her so you can answer. ‘come on up,’ you say, before caitlyn can even get a word in, and then buzz her in, grinning at vi when she sighs.

‘did you think she brought you flowers? oh my god, please.’ you twirl around.

‘you have a boyfriend; you and ekko go on dates all the time.’

‘i guess.’ you wrinkle your nose; it’s true, but, ‘definitely not quite like this though. wined and dined and all.’

caitlyn knocks on the door before vi can get another word in, and when you open it, a little too fast so it flings into the shoe rack, which makes vi wince, you’re very, very glad you made vi change, because caitlyn is in an understated, gorgeous navy blue dress and camel peacoat, her heels making her a good few inches taller than vi.

‘hello, jinx,’ she says, and then offers you a bottle of red wine and a carry out bag of — when you sniff it — your favorite chinese food. ‘as penance for stealing your sister tonight.’

you turn to vi. ‘keep her, please.’

both caitlyn and vi laugh while you scurry over to the kitchen island with your bounty, but you watch vi accept caitlyn’s offering of a single pressed flower in a small, simple black frame. ‘violet,’ she says, smiles crookedly, and vi grins, a little in awe, and kisses her cheek.

you’re ready for this, you are, because vi sets it down carefully on the entry table you’d fixed up together, and then smiles over at you, her fingers already tangled with caitlyn’s. ‘be good, jinx.’

you roll your eyes.

‘see you later,’ she says. ‘don’t wait up.’

‘ew.’ you uncork the wine; you’ll have to google the bottle later to see how much caitlyn really is trying to get on your good side. ‘have fun, i guess,’ you say, and they wave as they head out the door.

you do wait up, of course you do, playing video games and texting vander. when vi does get back in, her cheeks are flushed and her lips swollen.

‘went well, then?’

she startles a little, even though the tv is on and you’re clearly on the couch, her back pressed to the door like an actual teenager. ‘she’s … yes, it went well.’

‘make out in her subaru?’

when vi doesn’t say no, you roll your eyes. ‘gross. cliche too. i’m going to bed.’

vi laughs, happy. you’re happy too. ‘’night, jinx.’

‘goodnight, vi.’ the light from the tv is soft and she looks younger than you’re used to, her scars and everything behind them faded in the washed out, gentle light. ‘love you.’

her smile softens, just for you. ‘love you too.’

[leaveharmony]

Micko really did so much with so little, though. Like Jack literally only speaks onstage, he doesn't have a single line otherwise, so you're left trying to glean anything he's thinking from subtle expression and body language

Like, at least to me:

When Brian approaches him it takes him a split second to notice he's being Observed, and the whole face shuts like an iron gate. Mouth closes, jaw tenses. His expressions here suggest that: A. this is absolutely not the first time someone has barged in in his private space uninvited, B. having noticed Brian staring at him earlier he's not in the least bit surprised to see him (particularly to see him looking v. predatory) and C. he's bracing for whatever this particular intrusion is going to cost him. It's an extremely subtle face journey, but ...the first blink is just "Ah, of course." and the way he lowers his eyes, it's...like it's not "Go on, then" as in consent or as in encouragement so much as it's "Let's get this over with"

Jack could probably fight someone off, or at least make them damn well regret putting their hands on him if he absolutely had to, but I'd imagine this is one of those, 'this guy in particular is a completely unknown quantity and he does not look like the sort of person who would take no for an answer' situations. Jack almost looks...there's a split second when Brian grabs him where he almost looks like he wants to roll his eyes? Like he's thinking "Ugh. Amateur." and again, just get-on-with-it. Gives him no reaction, no response. And there is a zero percent chance he could not have noticed an earring being removed from his own ear (someone stole a pin off the back of my bag once and I felt that, and I had the same non-reaction, because if someone is going to be blatant enough to take your property off your body, what else might they do if you try to stop them?). He spends a second kind of processing it, like that was not what he expected and he certainly isn't happy about it, but it's certainly better than getting hate crime'd or worse.

And the bit w/ Mandy is so interesting, and it's set up in such a ...like Mandy is done such a disservice by Cecil's narration, because we meet him first and he describes her as 'a constant source of amusement,' like all of her mannerisms are artificial and performed, and implying also that she really believes she's someone fooling people into thinking she's charming and interesting (but in actual fact everyone barely tolerates her because it's amusing to watch her make a fool of herself)

So that coupled with Jack's non-reaction to her v exuberant greeting, as a teenager I did not attribute it to his composure and poise but rather to her being a sort of Edina Monsoon, sweetie darling, who everybody sort of laughs at. But with fresh eyes??? This is probably Jack's...like he probably adopted his wall of unflappability precisely to discourage behaviour like Brian's, like he'll let you kiss him in public if you absolutely have to but he's not going to react to it one way or the other, because doubtless that would cause manifold problems. He's got an entire little entourage of attendants and hangers-on, pay too much attention to one over the other and that's going to cause rumours and drama, allow random strangers grabbing at him to get a response and that will only mean it happens more often (because a reaction from Jack, positive or negative, is no doubt what some of them want).

He lets her hang off him like a slightly drunk kitten but that's the extent of it, at least In Public. And of course he's already assessing a threat across the room (probably because that is who she's whispering in his ear about). And of course...he was absolutely right to be cautious.

Even with Curt, who of everyone in the entire film he actually seeks out and chooses to interact with as opposed to standing there like a torch surrounded by moths, there's a difference In Public.

There is The Smile: I love the way he's sort of bopping in time with the window crank, this is the least-polished we ever see him. Unadorned save for lipstick and earrings, and it's markedly not a practised smile, which he may well have a version of (it would be as subtle as every other expression and absolutely closed-mouthed, for when he's directed to "smile" in a photo shoot or something). This is the least-guarded and most open we see him the whole time and it shows so beautifully, because the bopping is a little dorky and it takes him a second to get control of the smile, like he's forgotten quite how to do it or that you kinda have to keep doing it after you've started (but he's not sure for how long). His eyes know what they're doing but his mouth isn't entirely sure.

But then of course in the diner or cafe or whatever it is

He's still with Curt and he's CLEARLY comfortable with Curt because otherwise he absolutely would not have taken the window seat and been boxed in like this. Even though it is Curt, he's still leaning ever so slightly away from him (Curt is leaning by contrast, ever so slightly towards Jack, his only source of emotional support). And this is not bc Jack is shying away from Curt but because he's shying away from any kind of implication of physical intimacy with Curt on camera, especially given the subject of the interview. Whatever is going on there is not for the international media (because look what happened the time it was, and look what it did to Curt when it went to hell). You get the sense that if they'd gone to him, alone, he'd have very graciously declined to be interviewed but because Curt was involved, he felt he had to go along for morale, even though he contributes nothing but sitting there looking beautiful and delicately smoking (and fidgeting with this ciggie a bit). Said ciggie does not actually look finished, when he leans over to the ashtray: leaving the possibility literally on the table that he leaned over not because he needed to stub it out but because that was his subtle way to reach over Curt's space in a difficult moment.

@mangle-my-mind Thoughts????

[horoscope1078]

Pau sat in the corner of the locker room. His head hanging low as he fidgeted with his phone. His teammates Hector and Lamine were chatting animatedly nearby but Pau wasn’t really listening. His mind was somewhere else, specifically, on you. He had been crushing on you for months now but he just couldn’t work up the courage to tell you how he felt. Every time he thought about confessing his nerves got the best of him and he chickened out.

He let out a heavy sigh, catching Hector’s attention.

“Yo Pau, what’s up with you?” Hector asked tossing his towel over his shoulder as he walked over to him. “You’ve been quiet since training ended.”

Lamine who had been joking around with Hector moments ago joined them. “Yes man. You look like you’ve got something on your mind. Everything alright?”

Pau looked up at his friends, hesitating for a moment before speaking. “It’s this girl…”

Hector and Lamine exchanged a knowing look. “Ah... the girl. We’ve heard about her before” Lamine teased raising an eyebrow. “Still haven’t told her, have you?”

Pau shook his head feeling his face heat up. “No. Every time I get close.. I just.. I don’t know.. I freeze up. I want to tell her but I don’t know how to do it without making a fool of myself.”

Hector leaned against the lockers, crossing his arms with a grin. “Man.. you’re overthinking it. Just be confident and go for it. Girls love confidence.”

Lamine, however seemed to be more excited about giving Pau some advice. He rubbed his hands together, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Alright alright.. listen up. I’ve got the perfect plan for you. It’s simple. Write her a love letter.”

Pau blinked confused. “A love letter?”

“Yes man!” Lamine said nodding eagerly. “It’s old-school, romantic. Girls love that kind of stuff. You write something like ‘Dear crush, you light up my world like the stadium lights on game day. Every time I see you, my heart does a bicycle kick.’ ”

Hector snorted shaking his head. “A bicycle kick, really?”

Pau couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, I’m not sure that’s the right vibe Lamine.”

Lamine crossed his arms looking proud of himself. “Hey.. I’m just saying, it’s poetic. It’ll make her swoon.”

Hector rolled his eyes as stepping in with his own idea. “Forget the love letter. You need to do something bold, something that’ll get her attention for sure.” he thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers. “Got it! Challenge her to a penalty shootout.”

Pau stared at Hector, half-amused and half-confused. “A penalty shootout? Seriously?”

“Yes! Hear me out” Hector said clearly excited by his own idea. “You invite her to the field, you both take turns shooting penalties and if she wins, you tell her your secret, you’ve been in love with her all along. If you win, same thing. Either way, you’ve got to confess. It’s a win-win!”

Pau rubbed his face with his hands, laughing but also groaning. “Guys.. I don’t think I can confess my feelings through a football match.”

“Why not?” Lamine piped up. “Football’s your thing Pau! It’s how you communicate with the world.”

Hector nodded in agreement. “Exactly. Make it fun. Girls love a guy who can make them laugh and doesn’t take himself too seriously.”

Pau chuckled, feeling a little better despite their ridiculous ideas. “Ok.. but what if she’s not into football? What if she doesn’t want to kick penalties against me?”

Lamine waved him off. “Then we move to plan b. Serenade her.”

Hector’s eyebrows shot up. “Serenade her? With what Lamine? You’re not gonna tell Pau to sing, are you?”

Lamine grinned unbothered by the scepticism. “Why not? I bet Pau has a decent voice. All he needs is a guitar and a few romantic lines. Something like ‘Girl, you dribble through my heart like Messi in his prime.’ ”

Hector burst out laughing, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re killing me man. Messi in his prime? Pau, please don’t do that.”

Pau leaned back, laughing so hard his sides hurt. “Yes.. I think I’ll pass on the serenading idea.”

Lamine pouted though there was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “Fine fine. No singing. But seriously man, you’ve got to do something. The longer you wait the more you’re going to psych yourself out.”

Hector nodded clapping Pau on the shoulder. “Yes bro. Just be yourself. Talk to her like you always do but maybe.. y’know.. throw in a compliment or two. Tell her how you really feel but don’t overthink it.”

Pau sighed feeling grateful for his friends even if their ideas were totally out there. “You guys are ridiculous but thanks. I think I just need to figure out the right moment and go for it.”

Lamine leaned in with a grin. “And when you do, remember.. ‘bicycle kick of the heart.’ ”

Pau shook his head laughing again. “I’ll keep that in mind, Lamine. I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”

With his friends by his side, Pau felt a little more confident even if he wasn’t ready to challenge you to a penalty shootout or sing about dribbling hearts just yet.

[ninguitar]

　　sugar talking ──── your eyes ꣑꣒ only .

LOWKEY.　◦　❛ in which a concert you were tantalized by your friends into attending led to a one-night hook-up with band member, yu "karina" jimin, who was coincidentally a classmate, too. though incredulous and foolish, in karina's eyes, you were way too good to have you slipping through her fingers, but even so, she couldn't just act on it, leaving the two of you in an awkward predicament, keeping the feelings amidst lowkey. ❜

BACK. # NEXT PROFILES. #　

00.　　losers (stuco.)

y/n ; stuco vice pres. swears she'll post consistently every wednesday, yet she is almost always too lazy to edit her videos. is also on the badminton club for fun (also mainly because of keeho and ricky). is manon's partner-in-crime. somehow, she manages to squeeze in studying into her schedule. argues with keeho about who's the n1 sza fan.

yoon keeho ; stuco secretary. vlogs for fun ^_^ argues with y/n about being the self-proclaimed n1 sza fan and will never relent. plays badminton and is probably the most advanced out of everybody—he could even play professionally. is probably the most charismatic out of the group, along with manon. somehow knows all the drama in snhs?? his source: nobody knows.

manon bannerman ; stuco pres. she does almost everything for college apps. most charismatic in the group and is most approachable. ranked #1 in almost every subject and overall. got dragged into badminton club yet is barely hanging on. y/n's partner in crime. similar to keeho, she vlogs for fun and is usually unserious in her videos. loves, LOVES thrifting with megan, y/n, & chaewon.

megan skiendiel ; stuco pr officer. got dragged into being a part of stuco by manon and somehow got elected. likes to tease y/n about everything and anything she could and tag-teams y/n with manon. sweetest girl snhs knows. designated driver for stuco along with zhanghao. despite her long schedule, megan somehow attends most of snhs' party with ricky and kai.

shen "ricky" quanrui ; stuco treasury. keeho's and y/n's main target for teasing. known for his spectacular fashion taste all throughout snhs. singlehandely, his presence is what attracts more students to stuco events. most often seen with chaewon and zhanghao—the three of them always up to some chaos. loves, and i mean, LOVES exploring music genre, his most listened genre being r&b soul.

kim chaewon ; stuco senator. is somehow doing extraordinary well in her classes despite her desperate efforts in getting a tutor. is one of the most chaotic members in stuco, always up to something with either ricky or zhanghao. her dog is as much as a menace as she is. is practically worse than y/n at relationships—which is shown with her current "situationship" that has left her in shambles.

zhang hao ; stuco historian. somehow started getting called "zhanghao" despite his name being just hao, but nonetheless, he didn't pay much mind to it. tries to keep ricky's and chaewon's antics in check, though, often finds himself amused by them. has led competitions with manon academically, though there's no tension nor bad blood, just pure playful competition.

huening kamal kai ; stuco chairperson. makes music on the side after gaining followers from posting covers, and now posts his own songs. works hand-in-hand with kang taehyun and choi yeonjun. i fear he's the best advice giver in the group besides keeho and megan. likes to fool around at times, but usually is a no-nonsense person to keep everything in order.

A/N.　◦　hii, tysm for all the support so far for those who have tuned in !!! also, i js wanted to apologize for the long wait; i'm preoccupied with school work😭.

taglist. ୨ৎ @yeetaberry127 @yoontoonwhs @1luvkarina @sed7ction @stareaa @cceanvvaves (send an ask, or dm if you want to be tagged !! )