#as you can see I have no life and a lot of free time

[ivesambrose]

Your 2025,

Happy New Year my loves 🤎

Frost & Fortune | 2025 Readings ✨

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Picture 1

your central theme for this year deals with self expression, creativity, romance, children or your inner child as well as your health. You'll be refining your daily routine and approach your life with more structure and purpose instead of spontaneously doing what you want. A lot of you may have struggled with creative burn out or procrastination in the previous year but you'll be pushed out of your comfort zone when it comes to that. I see that some of you will sit down with yourself and really ask, "will a much younger and naive and vulnerable version of me truly look up to me or be happy with what I've become and who I am as a person?" In this question you'll find your answers and the changes you need to make. You might be a bit critical of yourself initially but understand that constrictive criticism towards yourself and making and effort afterwards is also a healthy thing to do. Some of you might even turn a turn a possible passion into a part of your daily life this can be getting a job that you're truly happy about it something that lets you fit in what you want to do into your daily routine efficiently. You might face situations that will test your resilience. You'll learn how to not emotionally lash out in situations. Keep your cool and decorum and navigate accordingly. You'll also learn how to pick your battles carefully. relationships will be significant focus. You'll learn who to associate with, who not to, how to show up for yourself and the significant people in your life. How to establish boundaries between you and the ones you consider acquaintances as well. Not everyone is your friend and shouldn't be. Some of you might be interacting with a lot of people possibly for career related purposes. Learn when to unwind, detach and take time solely for yourself. Don't fall into the trap of people pleasing. Certain relationships might be deepening too. Some of you might change homes or completely renovate your existing home. Some of you might be asserting your independence within your family as well. Others of you might be leaving your home/parents home and venturing off by yourselves learning how to navigate the world on your own and finding your voice. Your immediate environment will also play a prominent role in your life this year. Also expect a lot of short trips, learning and networking. Start of year: Focus on grounding yourself and building a solid foundation. It's okay to take things slow you're not running a marathon. Bring your focus on long term plans, establishing security at the same time enjoying life's pleasures.

Middle of year: Refine, work with diligence, keep a tracker or planner/journal, health(mind and body) will be primary focus.

End of year: Step into the spotlight and celebrate your growth. Look back at yourself with pride.

Picture 2

Your most transformative year yet. Central theme of destiny and finding one's soul's purpose. You'll be stepping out of your comfort zone regardless of the type of comfort it brought you and venture out into the unknown. The change will be profound and unlike anything you've experienced but it has been a long time coming. This will transform you into the person you're meant to be. Don't be scared. You have wanted this. Financial matters, inheritances, joint ventures might also play a role in your growth. Intuition will be at an all time high be sure to listen to what your instincts are telling you before being persuaded by the masses. You'll also be making a lot of meaningful connections this year. You'll finally be taking off a mask and freeing yourself from a cage you had put yourself in or felt you were in. You'll be honing your existing skills and learning new ones and will be manifesting opportunities extensively for yourself. All you need is blind faith. You'll be pushed to trust the unseen and the unknown. Put logic aside when it comes to your dreams and goals and other pursuits this year. Things will only make sense by the end of it. You'll be stepping into a more leadership role this year. People will be inspired by your confidence as well as charisma. There may even be a drastic change in your overall appearance or the way you talk and present yourself. Some of you might be moving away states or countries. It will be because it's time for you to pursue your dreams fearlessly. It's not about chasing them anymore, it's about making them a part of your reality so that it becomes normal and not something out of reach. A lot of people will be enamored by you and you might end up becoming their muse. You might also feel deeply connected to your spiritual side as well and have related experiences. Many experiences, places, people and even your dreams will inspire you immensely. Lot of deja vu moments as well. Again, trust in your gut feeling about places and people. You'll feel deeply connected to something this year, it will feel like home somehow or a part of you. This year is about finding the lost pieces of yourself and building cathedrals within your soul. You have immense power. Trust it. Start of year: A focus on building meaningful partnerships. Forging new ones too. (Professional, romantic or personal) Collaborations and commitments as well.

Middle of year: Communication, learning, trips, networking, ideas and recognition. Collecting and making a lot of memories. Lot of mental stimulation.

End of year: Significant development in your professional life, building a legacy, fame, reputation and taking note of your personal achievements.

Picture 3

Your central theme is personal growth through higher learning, expansion of ideas and unconventional approaches to life. This year is big on exploration as well as travel for you. You may have been following the norms or what's expected from you for a long time or because that was the only thing that was available to you so haven't yet gotten the chance to step out of the box but this will be changing now. This year also emphasizes focused determination and victory. All your obstacles will be overcome with sheer discipline. Remember where your awareness and focus goes, energy flows. Things will also gain momentum this year compared to the previous one so don't be surprised if things start coming through all at once after a period of stagnation. This is a good year for your creative pursuits as well as love. If you're a lover girl/lover boy, congratulations! Please romanticize your life even further actually. I feel as though you'll find someone or friends and people who are just as willing to pour into you and give as much as you do. You'll be learning to receive and nurture this year. Some of you might also be going for higher education which in itself is a huge achievement, please be proud of you and your academic achievements. You'll be very proficient in problem solving and finding clarity too. Your head will feel less like an entanglement of sizzling wires. you will be attracting individuals who balance out your energy and propell you forward as well. A lot of exchange of ideas and experiences. You may also want to build a community or become a part of one. A lot of you will be finding new hobbies as well and actually be sticking to them. Deep transformation is also unavoidable. Certain hidden aspects or information might come up but it will bring you more clarity than trauma. You will learn how to make proper financial investments or receive money from unknown or unconventional resources. You'll also feel like a version of you has died and is long gone but a new one blooms and makes sure those around you bloom as well. I feel a lot of you will make sure you turn your life into art/a cinematic experience this year no matter what. Start of year: You'll be cautious and communicative, pursuing knowledge and expanding your network. Let your voice be heard, let your ideas be known. New conversations, contracts, opportunities etc.

Middle of year: Noticeable and visible progress in every area of your life. Enjoy your journey.

End of year: A more balanced and harmonious energy, a focus on relationships as well as making yourself and your surroundings more beautiful.

[dilf-docs]

Le Pedí Al Mar Y Al Sol Que Te Trajera

pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: vacations are supposed to be fun! and with a hot older famous boyfriend? now we're really talking.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (yum), pwp, p. in v., fingering, pussy spanking (ooc i'm sorry i just want a man to do this to me), creampie, virgin!reader (sorry if this is kinda unrealistic for a first as i two i'm a virgin; in the curb we all fam), aftercare, spanglish ofc!!!

word count: 2,865 words

side note: so, i modified the request a bit bc idk pedro's friends like that (i just know omar apollo can tower over me wait what). check the og request here. reqs still open as we enter 2025! happy new year, dilf town citizens: pushed this drabble last minute as a lil' gift for you before the year ends! :) thank u sm for being part of it, my journey on tumblr is just getting started!!!!!!!!!!

Hace tiempo que quería yo sentir esto que siento.

They say dating a star and having to share him with everybody else is the hardest part, but to you, it's having both of your vacations occur simultaneously.

Finally, after months of shooting so many projects for the next year, your boyfriend is free.

Vacations are fun! They're supposed to be relaxing, especially after leading such a busy life as yours: juggling between work, studies and a relationship with world-renowned actor, Pedro Pascal. Yet, you can't help but feel nervous, fiddling with the loose strands of your skirt.

Pedro wants you to go alone, which means just the both of you: a little escape before Christmas Eve, as he and his friends have already planned their holiday together.

Doesn't matter how many times you tried to excuse yourself, he was determined to make you go with him. Besides, let's get real: it's not like you can say no to him. So now here he is, both of your passports in hand as you both are ready to board your plane to Mexico, where the rest of his friends will meet you a week later. Yes, more nerves to add on the schedule.

"If you don't quit that shaking of yours, I'll extend our vacation two more weeks" Pedro threatens once you're seated, but it's devoid of any malice. He's a bit far from you (he also insisted on the VIP flying part; you're just fine flying tourist, but can understand why he isn't), so you can't count on his touch to comfort you. "Didn't know you were afraid of planes"

You sigh, "I'm not"

"Ay, cariño. Are you afraid of me then?"

"No" you laugh nervously. You are, but not for the reasons he thinks.

It's the very first time the two of you will be fully alone. For obvious reasons, a whole week at the beach is much more intimate than just the dates you've been in. But here you are, already seeing the sand and water beneath you.

"Like what you see?" he jokes.

"Yeah" you look back at him, sincerity washing over the expression on your face. "I do"

If there is one thing you're sure of, is your love for Pedro. You'll just have to wait and see how this goes.

As of now, everything has gone well: sun, water, diving and lots of new photos and videos on your camera roll. You've gone swimming and danced on the bar of the hotel you're staying, some extra drinks on your system. You've also sunbathed under the same sun you've watched go down, in the most beautiful sunsets you've ever seen in your life.

But here comes the hardest part: the night. Sharing a bed isn't hard: it's something that's happened before, one time even staying in his house for two days, all because he insisted.

This time is different: the way his gaze lingers over your bare legs, the same way he's looked at them when the droplets of water slide down them. The way he licks his lips, like he's starving and the most deliciously tempting meal stands before him. Mantaining eye contact like it's some kind of dare, just as he's done since you've landed, using it to disarm you little by little.

You don't think you can't take it anymore.

You lay down on the bed, and he leaves the book he's reading on the night table next to him, all his attention directed towards you. Yeah, you're afraid, he can sense, but apparently not that afraid to wear a dainty nightwear that gives a delicious peek of your breasts.

"Something you want to say?" you ask, almost daringly so.

"Say no" voice low, barely a whisper that could come across a breeze of wind entering through the open window as it stirs the courtains. "Want, yes"

You gulp. "What do you want, then?"

Shouldn't taken the bait.

"You" comes quick, like it's the easiest answer there ever is.

The rest of his answer comes in the form of hungry lips capturing yours, devouring them in a clash of desire against your own, even struggling to breath due to the animalistic borderline savage way Pedro's eating you out, his tongue battling inside your mouth while trying to explore every corner just to taste all of you on his palate.

"Pedro" you moan his name out when he bites your lip with a bit too much force, metallic filling your taste buds. It's all so hot, and you're too turned on to think.

His roaming hands itch to touch every available spot of soft skin your body offers, tracing first through your collarbones, and then leaving the task for his lips to complete. There goes a trail of kisses that go down your neck, teeth nibbling the sensitive skin until it turns red. You whine against his hold, big hands keeping you under him, back pushed against the soft mattress and silk sheets.

You gasp for air, lost in the fire, when suddenly his forgotten hands touch you down there.

"Wait!" you shout, mentally slapping yourself.

"¿Qué pasó?" he exclaims, scared. "Did I hurt you?"

"N-no" you're quick to deny, voice wavering as you seat up on the bed. Your cheeks soon flush, as there's regret when you say. "I'm sorry"

"Sorry for what?" he tenderly cups your cheek. "Just tell me what happened"

"What happened is, I fucked up the vibe. I'm sorry, P. Didn't mean to stop you like that"

"¿No te estaba gustando, cariño?" he's questioning again.

"No" your answer is more firmly this time. His face morphs into a bit of hurt, and then you think your answer a bit more. "Ah, no. I mean, yes! I was liking it. I meant no as in no, it's not that why I stopped you"

"Then, why is it?" he grows a little impatient, but shows no such thing, rather focused on helping you out. "You know you can trust me, right?"

"I know" you smile sadly, insecurities washing over you like cold water.

"Then, tell me" he scoots closer, his perfume getting in your nostrils. Had he wore it again for this? God, what an evil little horny creature.

"I'm scared" you confess finally, the warmth of his receptiveness giving you a sense of security. His brown eyes soften, and you feel tears brim in the corner of your eyes.

"I know" he repeats your words, kissing you softheartedly, nothing compared to as before.

"No" you look directly at him, ready to take in every reaction his face will have. "I don't think you do"

"Amor, por favor-"

"I'm a virgin" you cut him off, panic rushing your answer.

"You are?" almost immediatly, giving no opportunity for silence to settle in.

You nod, slowly.

He sighs, sounding relieved. "And here I thought you didn't love me. Que te daba asco acostarte con un viejo como yo"

"No!" you deny hastily, then laugh. "Of course I love you, P. On the contrary, I was the one scared. Don't want to fuck it up on my first"

The energy changes again, as a flame sparks within your orbs. He looks surprised.

"Just because I said-" he cuts himself off. "Look, y/n, mi vida. I don't want to force you, yeah? I didn't know you hadn't- Listen, if you aren't ready, I'll understand"

"I am ready" clear and convinced, without a doubt.

His eyes circle between lust and love, "You want me to be your first, mmh baby?"

You nod, and he's back at the kissing and nibbling on your neck and collarbones.

"Please say it"

"I want you, Pedro. Quiero que seas mi primera vez"

Those sweet words of yours, an invitation not even the strongest man could deny.

"Let's start slow, yeah?" his fingers travel down to your panties under the nightwear, removing them and tossing them out of the bed, even with your pout. He kisses it off, wasting no time after to see your clit exposed. "Looking so sweet, angel. And needy" he gets closer, taking a better look at the wet mess that coats in between your thighs. He takes a whiff, intoxicated with the smell of your arousal dripping in waiting need. "Tell me if this is okay, yeah? I'll stop if it hurts"

Your breath hitches the moment his middle finger touches your puffy clit. Pedro runs his finger up and down, not adding much pressure to let you get used to it (kissing and eating each other out was all you had ever done). You whimper at the feeling as he repeats his action a few more times.

"Please, keep going" you plead, barely managing to not squirm at the overwhelming new sensations that shoot right through your cunt.

He begins to rub slow circles, making sure to add the right pressure onto your clit, then circling it, all while keeping eye contact, adoring the new expressions and sounds he's getting from you. You realize and shy away, embarrassed all of the sudden at the way he looks at you.

"Don't" he holds you by your chin with his free hand, "I want to know how you look when I please you"

You whimper, letting him do his own thing. He starts leaving sweet little kisses around your quivering pussy, enjoying the sight of your hole clenching at nothing.

"Think you can take more?" he asks, "want more?"

Two of his fingers dive straight in between your folds, coating them with your juices.

"Good girl" he praises when you only yelp, savouring the new feel of his digits inside of you. Then, he drags his fingers back to his mouth, tongue licking them clean. "Taste so sweet too"

"N-need more" you whine, desperate beneath him.

"Yeah?" This your first and you're already this greedy? I think I can get used to it" he laughs in adoration. "Let's try something better, yeah?"

Your body suddenly jolts, his big palm flat against your pussy. Pedro circles his whole palm across your cunt, middle finger pressing tightly onto it. You moan, back arching at the overstimulation.

He feels a little pervy, enjoying the way your tiny young body squirms beneath his caging body for of him. Nonetheless, he continues to rub you while you release more dirty sounds cascading out fo your filthy greedy lips. Your arousal keeps dripping like a broken pipeline, now smeared all over Pedro's palm, filling the room with slippery sounds.

"Mhm" you can't even speak, the exquisite combination of pain and pleasure reducing you to a moaning mess.

Pedro slaps your pussy twice, wet smacks bouncing off the walls.

"That's my girl" he then gently blows on your swollen bud, pressing a light kiss on it after. "Ready for it?"

It meaning his hard tent hidden under his underwear. You gulp, afraid you might not take it. He sees the hesitation in your eyes, but you're quick to dissmiss it.

"Are you sure you are ready?"

"Just do it" you demand, without knowing the consequences of your words, or the effect you have on him. Overall.

With needy fingers, you're fast to strip him out of it, admiring the size as much as you admire his now sculpted body. Jesus, you could build a cult out of it.

"Now" he cups your cheeks, fingers digging onto the skin, "I want you to look at me when I fuck you, yes? Don't dare to look away"

Pedro positions himself between your legs, aligning himself with your entrance. Then, he thrust inside you, filling you completely. You cry, trying to adjust to his size while your nails dig on his broad back, as he claims you, makes you his. Only his. Pedro'hi's hips snap forward with precision: every thrust is deliberate, each movement calculated to make your first as pleasurable as he can, despite the pain that's shown in your tears or the little drops of blood that fall onto the sheets.

"Shit" he pants, "tendremos que pagar por eso"

He grips your thighs, holding you steady as he pounds into you.

"Fuck, you feel so good" he moans, your tight untouched walls now stretching to adapt to his girth, "like you were made for me"

You cling to him, legs wrapping around his waist as he firmly holds you. Your vision goes foggy, mind numb at the burning and pleasing sensations. Despite that and lack of experience, you meet his every thrust, your bodies moving as one.

Your core contracts around him with every motion. "You fuck me so good" you mewl, music to his ears.

"I know, baby" he chuckles, "sólo lo mejor para mi princesa"

Fingers dig into your skin as he guides you with precision, right as he wants you to be. You feel the intensity of his deep inside of you with every movement, his hot laboured breath against your ear.

"Doing it so good" his voice is low, almost a growl, sending shivers down your spine. "Just for me"

"Just for you" you mindlessly pant out, the sensation of having all of him inside you, nothing separating the skin from skin, igniting a fire that spreads through your core. Your breasts bounce with each motion, Pedro's eyes never leaving yours, dark orbs locked onto your gaze as you urge him to go faster, drawing in a sharp breath as your body adjusts to the new rhythm he's providing, rapidly obeying.

The room is quiet except for the sound of your bodies clashing onto one another, flesh against flesh echoing softly.

"Your body is perfect, so wet, so tight for me" His words send a wave of pleasure crashing over you, making you moan loudly, your head falling back, "me tienes loco"

Pedro's weight grounds you as he begins to thrust deeply, each movement deliberate and unrelenting.

"Tell me you want this, us" the words catch you off guard. "Will you take all of me?"

"Yes" without a thought or doubt, answering as you whine and clutch at his shoulders with his more urgent thrusts. "All of you, always"

You notice his hips snapping forward, more energy as he pounts into you. "Good girl" praising you again, voice thick in arousal and rough, "so good for me"

Despite being your first, you can feel what would be your orgasm building, closer and closer until there is no holding it back.

"Pedro!" you scream his name, body collapsing around him as you come, stars reaching your closed eyelids.

His movements become more intense and sloppier, breathing ragged as he chases his own release.

"Espérame. Stay there for me"

You cling to him, legs wrapping tighter as he continues to pound into you. "Ya casi" his thrusts become erratic as he nears his climax, "almost there, baby"

You feel his body tensing as he comes inside you with a deep groan, seed spilling into you without wasting a drop.

"That's right" whispers against your sweet neck roughly, voice breaking as he collapses over you, trying to level his breathing. "Eres mía, only mine"

You're whimpering, body exhausted from the whole session you had.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just tired" you sigh, "but I don't think I can walk"

"We'll get you a wheelchair someway" he jokes.

"You think is funny? Ruining my holidays?"

He leans down to press a sweet kiss on your forehead. "Come on, we'll get you cleaned up" you mumble out a tired no, but Pedro's picking you up with his strong arms, taking your body to the bathroom. You wrap your legs instinctively around his waist, face hidden in the crook of his neck.

"You know what? Your fans were right: you do have a slutty little waist" you mock.

"Right" he blushes, embarrased as he takes you inside the bathroom, then placing you on top of the toilet. "Open up, baby" he grabs some tissues, trying to clean up the mess you've made between your legs. "Así, justo así, bebé" he parts your hair to the side lovingly, fixing it for you before pressing a kiss on the crown of your head. "Done, my pretty baby, look at you"

You hum, eyes threatening to close.

"I see you're not an after-sex talker. Come on, I'll take you back to bed" he picks you up again, your head leaning against Pedro's V line as he caresses your head. "Hope you don't mind the smell"

"I love how you smell" you mumble out in a drunk like state.

"Okay then" he chuckles, "let's go back to bed" taking you out of the room, gently placing you the mattress. He then pulls a pair of fresh panties from your suitcase, dressing you in them. He coos at the sight of you, sleeping peacefully despite what you did before.

He finally lays next to you, lovingly lifting up your arm to put it around his waist. He pulls the sheets over your bodies to keep you both warm, in the chilly room thanks to the beach's air.

He feels you move, snuggling closer to his chest to seek warmth.

"I love you" whispered, not expecting you to answer or hear it.

When you snuggle closer, he's sure you do.

[that-one-p00k1e]

─────〃★ for you, I wouldೃ⁀➷˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚

✧ summary: things they would do for you ft. Ren Kaji, Hajime Umemiya, Haruka Sakura, Hayato Suo, Jo Togame, Mitsuki Kiryu, Akihiko Nirei, Tasuku Tsubakino, Toma Hiragi, Yamato Endo, Chika Takiishi

✧ content: fluff, gn!reader (I think), OOC most likely, established!relationship, not proofread I'm sorry, tsubakino's pronouns are confirmed he/him ✦ a/n: HAAAAPPPYYYYY NNNNNEEEWWW YYYYEEAAARRR BBBBIITTCHHESSSSS😝😝😝😝 six months since I last posted omg-! I'm still alive! 😍 tysm for the support while I'm gone ily'all <33

—REN KAJI would turn off his music and pull down his headphones to listen to you ramble. Though he had his attention to his phone, he'd give silent nods and hums here and there to let you know that he was listening. Occasionally, he'd throw in little comments and questions regarding the topic you were telling. Little to your knowledge, your rambles to him were like taking notes. He'd mentally highlight things that he thought were important, and would keep it in mind in the future. He's the type to look nonchalant, but deep down, he cares more than he lets on. “... What's wrong?” he asked as he heard you abruptly stop talking. “Forget it.. You're not even listening.” You looked away in disappointment, letting out a quiet sigh. “But I have been listening,” he tried to reassure, feeling slightly guilty for making you feel neglected. “Really? Then repeat all the things I've been saying.” He, in fact, did repeat most things you've mentioned and justified his word.

—HAJIME UMEMIYA would gift you random bouquets every week, as if he hasn't gifted you enough already. What's special about his bouquets is that you can never guess the theme for the week. First, he started off classic – flowers, with the consideration of them being fake so that you'd be able to keep them forever. Then, he brought you a bouquet of snacks and sweets that he knew were your favorite. Next thing you knew, he's giving you a bouquet of money he's been secretly saving up on. You felt guilty; guilty for the effort he's been putting, just for you to return it with some unprofessional homemade baked goods. It felt unfair. But does he sail on the same boat? No. He's going to reassure you that he expects nothing in return, and that you being there for him and loving him was what all he ever wanted and needed.

—HARUKA SAKURA would spend his free time struggling to assemble a Lego flower bouquet set after learning about White Day. He wanted to return your gesture of gifting him during Valentine's, despite himself denying such intention. It took a lot of effort, in both figuring out what to get while fearing you wouldn't like it –to the point that he would even call over Nirei and Suo for help – and in building the tiny pieces of bricks after settling on a final decision for the gift. He persisted to build it himself, no matter how much his friends offered to help. He wanted to make sure it was his work purely, done with his own hands. The whole process was frustrating, infuriating, and was basically a test of patience. But after seeing how you kept the received bouquet in a glass vase – delicately treasuring it on your bedroom display – he has never felt so proud yet flustered his whole life.

—HAYATO SUO would waltz into the café without a care in the world while having scattered lipstick stains decorating his face. Moreover, it wasn't your idea in the first place– it was his. Your relationship wasn't out yet, and he thought, what better way to publish it than announcing it wordlessly but gives double the impact? “Hm? Oh, this? It's my beloved’s artwork. Do you like it?” he'll innocently ask when someone questions the visible lip prints. Sakura was a blushing mess, and Suo was very much enjoying the look of bewilderment from others as they received the unspoken news. This was the reaction he wanted. This was what boosted his pride furthermore in being your boyfriend, and he'd shamelessly do it again to show off his love for you to the world.

—JO TOGAME would be your personal walking object holder. He'd take your bag and sling it over his shoulder with you needless to say; he'd keep hair bands around his wrist in case you decided to tie your hair up; he'd hold your shopping bags throughout your journey at the mall. Never were you the one to request his aid first, and never has he complained about being tired. He'd even go barefoot just to lend you his footwear when your feet start to hurt in heels. Moreover, he'd carry you bridal along the way. Despite you worrying over him tiring himself, he persisted to keep ahold of you. He loves seeing you enjoy life without a care in the world, and he'd do anything to carry burdens that dare to get in the way of that enjoyment.

—MITSUKI KIRYU would deliberately lose in a game of UNO and let you take the victory when he could've won decades ago. The whole time the both of you were playing, he's been holding a Wild and Draw 4 but refrained from using them. Instead, he kept drawing cards and just went yolo to buy time. Though he always played fair, seeing your dejected expression after losing many rounds this time was a little too unbearable for him. He promised himself for once, just this once will he let himself take a loss. He knew it wouldn't be fair, but if it meant that he'll get to see you smile in victory, then he doesn't find any problem with that.

—AKIHIKO NIREI would write down even the littlest of details about you that were thrown at him. You'd be casually mentioning a trivial preference as a ramble, but never had he pulled out his notebook and pen so quickly. During his early stages of getting to know you, he made sure to memorize everything you told him about yourself; your favorite color, favorite food, dream place to go, he even looked up your zodiac sign after knowing your birth date. He doesn't mean it in a creepy way. In fact, it was his way to know how to get closer to you. Despite already having the skill to remember it all, he likes to write it down to make sure as well as for keepsake. Thanks to that, now he has a cheat sheet on how to make you smile.

—TASUKU TSUBAKINO would wear himself a nail polish color that reminds him of you. Or, moreover, your favorite color. He loved being stylish, and what better way to do it than having at least a part of you involved in it? He'd walk proudly in his heels that you got him as a gift, and was even more ecstatic if someone complimented them, proud that your taste in fashion was appreciated by others. He'd ask to trade manicures with you for a date, where the both of you choose a nail look for each other. But if you weren't into painting nails, he'll ask you to choose a look for him instead. On special or fancy occasions, he'd often wear your fav lip combo or makeup look, as he treasures your choices and views them as something precious and only to be used when necessary.

—TOMA HIRAGI would pull up to the function wearing either a Hello Kitty or Kuromi tee under his gakuran jacket. Was it his personal choice to do it? Clearly not. Was it his choice to willingly wear it for the sake of his beloved significant other? Very much so. After many attempts of pleading, he caved in and (begrudgingly) agreed to your whole ‘matching outfits’ idea. He ate a pill or two when he saw how he looked in the mirror. Then ate two more when he finally appeared in public, especially at how much Umemiya and the others teased him for it. It was embarrassing, but was it worth it? No questions needed. The beaming smile you immediately wore when seeing him agree to your shenanigans, was enough proof that it was all – undoubtedly – worth it.

—YAMATO ENDO would revel in the feeling of being the center of your attention as you placed stickers and colored in his tattoos or drew silly doodles along his body. He liked the feeling of flexing himself while having you express your inner artist onto him. He'd think of himself as your muse; the art and the artist. Once you were done, he'd be extremely careful with doing activities, afraid of your artwork smudging off at the slightest touch. Even during the shower, he makes sure not to wipe it with full pressure. He considered turning it into an actual tattoo, really. Because it would mean that he'd get to keep something of yours to be a part of him, eternally.

—CHIKA TAKIISHI would let you do his hair as you please. He was one to outright reject the idea of someone touching him, but you – you had the privilege to do as you please to him without him raising a finger to stop you. You had him wrapped around your delicate fingers, his head leaning into your touch as you smoothly ran your hands through his long locks of red that met its ends with yellow. When he saw that you did your hair the same way as his, a flicker of surprise reflected on his eyes. Though he tried to come off as indifferent, he was secretly pleased to acknowledge the fact that the both of you were matching. He'd spend the whole day with you while wearing those matching hairstyles, not caring about how others would think of him. All he could focus on was how ethereal you looked in your current look. In fact, he always thought you looked beautiful in any shape and form of physical aspects.

[everythingseasoning]

Love, forever? (Updated Masterlist moved here)

vampire! suguru x reader x vampire! Satoru

vampire! Suguru x reader. includes: Morality, and selfishness vs selflessness themes. // Vampire! Suguru and Satoru, who are vampire hunters that protect humans from evil ones. // Blooming rivalry between Satoru & reader for Suguru’s attention. // AU characters. Satoru is clingier and more emotional than his canon self. Suguru despises the strong (vampires) for hurting the weak (humans). // New vampire lore ;). // Angst. Suguru battling his inner demons, trying to do good despite his vampire nature and urges. // Reader has multiple targets on her back (Naoya appearance!) // Both Suguru and Satoru fall for reader. // Eventual smut in later chapters. //

Ch. 01 Teaser // NOTE: if you saw the teaser already, I’ve edited it a lot and added in more juicy dialogue & scenes ;) feel free to read it again, I recommend that.

The drink is nothing short of young and dumb, the blend of tooth-rottingly sweet flavors hitting your taste buds as you stare holes into Suguru’s back. You can see the sculpture of his muscles and beautiful bones through his tight tee, your ex’s sculpted body turned away from you. He’s speaking to a girl you had heard about— the life of all parties, pretty, smart, and fun. Was he moving on already? Did you really mean so little to him? Would she be the one to make him stay? 

You take another swig from the plastic blue cup, hoping the painful twisting motion of your heart would be soon dulled. Coca Cola, sherbet, and yakult alcohol would be your poison of the night, you think, swallowing down the concoction as tears prick your eyes. 

“Another one of those people who drinks their troubles away?” 

The voice amidst the bass and booming music causes you to turn, your eyes meeting striking blue ones. Snowy hair rests soft and thick on his head, your heart skipping a beat when you see such a beautiful stranger. 

If you were being honest, you weren’t in the mood to talk to somebody else— not when your heart was still tied right onto Suguru’s. You love Suguru, you really do. The recent past haunts your every waking moment. And even in your dreams, he’s there, chuckling as you braid his hair, the nonfiction book he’s been reading facedown in his lap as your fingers thread his silky locks; He’s watching you with a fond smile as you run ahead of him in the campus garden, jumping amongst the flowers; The warmth and sturdiness of his hands against your face as the two of you kiss— his soft, supple lips meeting yours in that familiar dance and tangle. In your dreams he’s still yours. You both made up. In your dreams, things are warm and right. 

When you wake up in an empty bed, with an aching heart, it just feels cruel. The light slipped away again. You thought you had it. You had your dream come true only to realize it was just that— a fleeting dream. There’s no respite from the memory of all his adoration, thoughtful gestures, all the times you’d stare mesmerized as he sat focused, his eyebrows pinched as he worked… The way he felt when you were wrapped in his embrace, your face buried in his sturdy chest— that feeling of being cared for— 

You missed him bad, with every fiber of your being. 

Suguru is still all you can think about. You’re at this damned college party because, even a month after he’d broken up with you, all you wanted was to be close to him, to see him. It’s pathetic. Knowing he’d be here, knowing you’d be tearing your heart open again, the wound freshly cut back open— and you still came here. How many times had you stalked his social media despite having been removed from his following? 

“Cat got your tongue?” The beautiful stranger breaks you out of your thoughts, forcing a reply. 

“No—” you start to say, raising your voice. It’s just barely audible over the clamor of the party. 

“Really?” He butts in, raising an eyebrow. “‘Cause it seems like there’s some hard evidence against your statement.” His small smile is as unconventional as it is disarming. 

“And you are?” 

“Satoru Gojo, if you haven’t heard about me already. I go to a different university. A better one.” 

You roll your eyes, scoffing. “And why would I know of you?” 

Satoru just tilts his head ever so slightly, his smile unwavering as he replies, “Your head is under a rock, is what I heard you say.”

Confusion flits across your face before your mouth falls open slightly, a feigned look of offense stretched on your features. You feel like ignoring this pesky person. You glance away for a second, in search of Suguru’s back— the spot he’d been standing in holds a different person, somebody you don’t know, somebody you’re not at all interested in. You frown, scanning the crowd.

Satoru waves a hand in front of your face. You look up at him, annoyed.

“Why are you talking to me?”

“What? Need a reason to talk to a pretty girl?” 

“That’s an overused line,” You shout back, the music so loud you can barely hear yourself. Your attention shifts away from the snowy haired man back to the sea of party goers. You desperately search the throng of buzzing chaos. No sign of Suguru. Just dancing, mingling, kissing, drinking, the typical activities going on under the strobe lights. Fuck.

Suguru, where did you go? Please… Your heart feels like it’s a rock in your stomach. Please don’t tell me you’re fucking her right now in somebody’s bedroom. It’s not my business— but I can’t stand the thought of it—

Satoru chuckles, and you look back at him, unable to hide your expression of pain. You’re about to excuse yourself to find a bathroom to cry in, when he speaks again.

“You’re right. How should I flirt, hm? Wanna coach me? It’ll lift your blues, too,” His smirk would’ve had you folding had you not ever met Suguru. But you did cross paths with the raven-haired man— collided and intertwined, more like— and now nobody compares to him. Nobody would ever be him. 

“Not really. Excuse me,” you begin to say, before turning slightly, about to slip away—

“Suguru is my best friend,” he says. 

You freeze, whipping around now to face Satoru.

“He told me about you— first time he ever told me about anyone, actually. Suguru said you were somebody he actually loved.” Satoru’s cheeky expression has been wiped off, replaced with one of aloof nonchalance and detachment. It’s almost eerie, but your focus isn’t on that.

You’re at a loss for words, eyes caught on Satoru’s, hanging onto everything he says like maybe, just maybe, it means that Suguru wants you back.

“He’s had his fair share of flings and hookups, after all.” Satoru teases, smirking again, bending down to your level.

“I thought I was losing my best friend to a weakling.” His breath is surprisingly chilly against your face. “Turns out you were never the one. Sucks that you couldn’t make him stay.” You feel everything shatter. “Sucks for you, I mean,” Satoru finishes. He leaves out the part where he gloats about being the one Suguru has always admired, and stuck with. 

You’re shocked, mouth hanging open. You’re hurt. You’re aching in confusion about what wasn’t good enough about you. You’re angry and betrayed— all the feelings clash like giant waves crashing against one another inside your heart. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

Satoru grins, shrugging. “It means what it means. But I’m curious,” he says, leaning closer, his pearly teeth glinting red under the strobe lights, “What is it about you that had Suguru caught up on ya?” His lips graze your cheek, his voice in your ear, “I don’t get it.”

You slap him before you can realize what you’re doing. Violence is not the answer, but this time, it sure as hell felt like it. Your fingers sting, your panicked thoughts a running train. Did I just? Oh my god! I didn’t— I fucking did—

“I— I’m sorry—” you stammer quickly, eyes wide in shock at your own actions. Satoru is eerily emotionless, staring down at you with those startling ocean eyes. You shiver despite the heat of the stuffy, overcrowded room. 

“Hm.” 

It’s all he says. You open your mouth to speak again, blinking— 

And he’s gone. 

— — —

A swig of the liquor causes the liquid to slosh in the green bottle. 

“Thought you liked shy girls, Suguru?” Satoru pokes, a red handprint on his cheek. He’s kicked back on the couch outside the bathroom, grimacing when the alcohol hits his tongue. He’s spitting it out back into the bottle immediately. 

“I do,” Suguru replies calmly, a streak of lovely bare skin showing amidst the shaving cream on his face. He runs the razor back down, taking off more of the fluffy white foam. 

“Yeesh. Can’t believe we used to drink this shit,” Satoru sticks his tongue on dramatically, tossing the full glass of alcohol across the room. It lands right in the trash bin with a clang. “That’s where it belongs,” he huffs. 

“So?” Satoru prompts, kicking his feet up. “You realize she doesn’t fit your ideal type, right? Why’d you get with her for a whole year, then?”

“She was shy at first,” Suguru says softly, a glint of something like pain in his eyes. He catches Satoru’s gaze on him in the mirror and the glint disappears. Satoru notices, but says nothing, now peeling open a candy from its foil wrapper. 

“And I told you already, Satoru,” Suguru continues, sparing his friend an exasperated glance. “I love—d her.” A blip. A mistake so quickly covered that if it was anyone but Satoru, they’d have missed it.

Blue eyes pierce Suguru. 

“But it wasn’t going to work out. Love isn’t meant for us. You and I… We’re not meant to be with humans,” Suguru murmurs, looking at his face in the mirror. It was myth that vampires didn’t have reflections. They do. But there’s something the myths forgot. Some sort of change is written in a vampire’s eyes. There always has been, and always will be, some sort of difference from a person’s antecedent human form, and their new, evolved one, hidden in their eyes after they turn. Suguru touches his eyebags, dark and heavy. 

That’s not what changed. No. His warm, earthy brown eyes had turned purple the night Satoru turned him. He woke up with them, the day after everything changed. 

Suguru’s tired reflection stares back at him, rich amethyst irises shining like glossy, sharp stars in the mirror. He wishes he didn’t recognize them. Now he’s stuck dealing with people commenting on his “cool contacts,” for the rest of eternity. Suguru exhales deeply, softly, his still, dead heart aching.

“Being undead with a vital thirst for human blood will do that,” Satoru ho-hums, blissfully unaware of the insensitive nature of his obliviousness. 

Suguru is silent, continuing to shave, but the blade knicks his skin. He curses quietly. 

“So,” Satoru grunts with chocolate melting on his tongue, grateful that at least his cravings and delight in sweets didn’t change when they turned, “You don’t trust yourself to be around her without hurting her. But you were doing well for a year. What do you say changed?”

Suguru dabs at the blood dripping down his otherwise unmarked face. It would heal, his skin would be perfectly smooth again in a day, not a trace of his mistake, or scar, would remain. All wounds heal within 24 hours for vampires. It’s something Suguru was grateful for, considering his job of being a vampire slayer. 

“My urges got insatiable. Blood bags weren’t enough,” Suguru says curtly. Despite the battle of breaking up with you being long over, Suguru’s mind is a war zone. I couldn’t even look at her… without… needing to taste her blood. His fists clench on the marble sink. It got bad. I almost hurt her.

Satoru stares at his best friend, knowing that in this silence, his mind is a maelstrom. Suguru sees Satoru’s unflinching gaze, but remains quiet. He knows his friend won’t understand. 

But Satoru presses on anyway, nodding, looking bored. 

“Right. You can’t suppress your urges right now. That happened to me too. The second year is the hardest.” Satoru was the one who turned Suguru, after all, on that unwelcomed, fateful night. “It helps when you just feed on multiple pretty girls a night and compel them all to forget— You could’ve had both, you know. Her and human blood from others. You’re so mopey now.” Satoru’s callous remark piques Suguru’s irritation, a flame of anger burning in the raven-haired man’s chest.

“I won’t do that and be in a relationship.” 

“I saw you feeding on that random chick an hour ago. If you and I didn’t always ask for consent before feeding, I’d never have believed she would be okay with that,” Satoru’s eyes gleam playfully. Suguru doesn’t reply, and Satoru deflates. 

“You’re still grumpy. You move around like you’re actually dead, Suguru. You torture yourself by still caring about your ex. She’s nothing special. I don’t get it.” 

Ah. The truth comes out. Suguru’s eyebrows knit, his mouth pressed into a firm line as something dark flickers in his eyes. 

“Satoru, she has a name, and she’s worth something even if you can’t see it. Just shut up.”

“And what worth do you see in her?”

Suguru is silent for a moment. How could he convey the light and warmth that you were in his life? He’d died twice, once literally, once figuratively, and yet— you brought him back. “…She’s… good.”

“And?”

Suguru’s temper flares. “You just don’t get it, so will you just leave it?” He snarls, fangs involuntarily popping out. He curses silently in disgust at what he has become. 

“You’re such a grouch nowadays,” Satoru huffs, before popping another chocolate into his mouth. He gets up, stretching. 

“Well. I need to feed again.” 

“Be safe about it. And I’m not referring to your safety,” Suguru says sternly, his whole head turned to look at Satoru now, some white foam still on the man’s face. 

“Yeah, yeah, mom, I got it.” With that, Satoru pulls his black coat over his lean, muscled body, a wolfish grin on his face as he slips out the apartment door. Did he need the black coat? No. Not at all. Vampires don’t get cold. They’re already icy to the touch. But it helps him blend in, both with humans and the night. 

— — — 

You’re intoxicated. It’s two AM and you’re stumbling around campus like a fucking idiot. 

Well how about that? Satoru spies you from across the quad, your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. 

He slips through the shadows. 

You nearly jump when a tall, dark figure appears before you, looming over you. 

Snowy hair shines in the lamplight, blue eyes flashing like glaciers, staring right at you. You swear they flash red for a second.

“You again?” You slur your words. You aren’t scared. He’s Suguru’s best friend, which means he by extension must be a good guy. Almost as if he hears your thoughts, Satoru grins. His teeth are brilliant, his canines shining ivory and glistening like expensive accessory jewels.

Do not plagiarize my writing in any way. Do not feed my writing to ai.

Comment to be on the taglist :)! Sharing your thoughts are appreciated!!!

[astracora]

Poly!LADs headcanons - because I'm a disaster human and they live rent free in my head.

Home Edition

Also includes the main mc I write with headcanons??? Canons????

Masterlist

Zayne is very clean, he tidies up as soon as he sees mess. Can't leave it for a second. (He also simply doesn't think to say to someone 'hey can you clean up x', he'll just go 'well I'm here' and tidy.)

Xavi will tidy but he'll normally have a set time in mind to do it, aka 'I'll do this in 10 minutes' except he means it. Which sometimes means Zayne gets to it quicker.

Raffy will fully forget the concept of tidying, everything becomes like his art studio. Will sometimes do 'I'll do this in 10 minutes' doesn't mean it.

Sylus is generally very tidy, will clean as he does anything, part of his 'leave nothing out as a weakness, remove traces of yourself as you move' energy, but it does make him easy to live with in regards to cleanliness.

MC is not tidy, they're chaotic and often forget where things are. They try to help manage the mess but often simply forget in the chaos of doing something. They just need a lil nudge and they'll go into cleaning mode and fix all the mess.

They all have jobs that tend to be 'theirs' though it's fluid depending on time restraints and current projects or life situations.

Raffy/Xavi are best at doing the grocery shopping. They're least bothered by crowded or loud places, and least likely to buy every sweet in the place. Raffy does do impulse purchases, but they generally take lists.

Xavier also takes care of the plants and the garden in the house. (Everyone likes checking in on the garden though.)

Sylus/Raffy are the best at cooking. Sylus cooks primarily as long as he has the time (tries to make it as much as he can), and Raffy cooks the best fish you'll ever eat in your life.

They will sometimes also supervise Xavier's cooking but with him it's a two man job of not letting the kitchen burn down. (Sylus doesn't want to replace another kitchen.)

Zayne is king of tidying, he doesn't do it all himself, and everyone tries to make sure they pick up their weight esp when he's very busy, but the man has systems upon systems.

MC does a bit of everything, they're not as patient with cooking, but enjoy baking a lot. Primarily they help stay on top of laundry, dishes and are co-captain to Zayne's cleaning frenzies.

They all have their at least one of their own specific rooms in the house, either specialised for their work, or just a specific place for them to destress if they want alone time.

Zayne: has his office.

Raffy: has an art room, he also kept his studio for anything he's keeping secret from the others (an art project) or for bigger pieces that he needs more space than the house can provide.

Sylus: has a music room, it's decorated with records and various instruments. Of course he keeps all his bases, home is home, work is work.

Xavier: he set up a planetarium in a nap room, just incase he gets home really late and needs to sleep but is worried about disturbing someone.

MC: has a room decked out in just every single collectible they've ever hoarded ever.

Raffy technically has the most 'normal' sleep schedule, awake in the day, asleep at night, except he also doesn't sleep when he's working on a painting, so it often goes out of the window.

Zayne has a sleep schedule which is normally he's awake in the day, asleep at night, but he's also a doctor so he works whenever he needs to, and this can often mean night shifts, very long shifts with on call sleep room visits, or simply his normal nightmare-based insomnia.

Sylus is awake at night and asleep during the day mostly, has a fairly reliable schedule in terms of active time, but he's a busy man who does a lot of work travel. So might not be at home very often because of that. While he pretty much sleeps exclusively in the day, if he's around and someone really wants company, he's happy to join them in bed. He's also always willing to be out in the day if someone asks for his presence for something.

Xavier sleeps whenever he's tired, he's a working hunter which means he's awake when he's needed for a mission, and he works at night as Lumiere, so he has absolutely zero schedule. He and Sylus are normally the ones who take naps together because of this.

MC's life schedule is very reliable, they work in the day or whenever they have a mission, but primarily they sleep at night. That said they have insomnia and they also suffer from frequent nightmares due to their history, because of this, they will take naps when they can, and will often be awake until the early hours of the morning unable to sleep properly.

[screamlet]

fic: blow up that chopper epilogue (118 daily drabble)

pairing: bucktommy rating: mature word count: 1.8k epilogue (3.4k total); status: complete tags: breakup/makeup; fix-it fic; buck pov; future fic; near death experience; helicopter crash! notes: you can read all the drabbles and epilogue at the ao3 link, and in their original post-by-post form in the #blow up that chopper (118dailydrabble) tag.

Series Summary:

Buck reads to himself: If my grief is violent enough, perhaps he will come back to life again. It sits uncomfortably on his tongue until the sirens blare. They jump into action, but Buck freezes at the bottom of the stairs. "Mayday, mayday, mayday, companies respond to an explosion at Harbor Station."

---

1 YEAR LATER (DECEMBER 2025)

It's only been a month, so Buck's going to forgive himself for still feeling giddy about this: kissing Tommy in the parking lot of their favorite breakfast place before heading home together (to their house) after a shift.

"Love you, I'll see you at home," Tommy says, just before he kisses Buck.

Buck smiles into it, every time. "Where else would I be?"

Tommy still doesn't have a standard quip in response, so he kisses Buck again. He's smiling, too, and smiles brighter as Buck whispers I love you into their kiss.

---

All things considered, Tommy had survived the accident at Harbor by moments. There wasn't much to uncover about what happened: there was a call for a medevac and one of the other A-shift pilots, Gregson, took it. Almost two thousand feet in the air, he had a fatal heart attack and the helicopter crashed on the station. Seven people died, including Gregson, Captain Norton, and their probie Serrano, who was a month away from finishing their probationary year.

The explosion had thrown Tommy free and clear of the worst of it. He could have died immediately, like Gregson and others in the station, but the way he landed had broken his arm and shoulder, cracked his ribs, and ruptured his spleen. If Buck and Chimney hadn't immediately spotted him on the ground in their line of vision, he would have died on the ground (instead of only three or four times in the ambulance).

("That's two," Chimney had said when Tommy woke up in the hospital. "You're just messing with me at this point.")

While Harbor was out of commission, the remaining crew had been split up across the city. Once Tommy had recovered, he was assigned to another Air Ops station to manage and train newer pilots. At his friend Sal's urging, he completed the training and testing so that Harbor Station would reopen with Interim Captain Kinard at the helm.

Some but not all of the original Harbor crew wanted to come back. It was a relief to Tommy (and Buck, too), that Lucy was one of them—she had been on the most fortuitously scheduled vacation to Italy anyone had ever taken, and came back to the literal ruins of her professional life. She promised to keep Interim Captain Kinard in line, and knock around anyone who doubted him (though Buck couldn't imagine who would).

And Buck stayed. He stayed and he fought for Tommy, and with Tommy, because meeting Robert Kinard had taught him one important thing: Tommy was stubborn and myopic and trapped in his own head, and Buck had to stop holding back if they wanted to stay together.

After they had broken up, Buck knew that he had rushed ahead too quickly. He thought that if they ever got back together, he would have to slow down and handle Tommy with kid gloves, incredibly gentle. That wasn't going to work, not when Buck had seen the heavy hand that had molded Tommy more than either of them wanted to admit.

Tommy had spent his entire adult life struggling against the man Robert wanted him to be, and Buck would have to drag him out of Robert's shadow by fucking force. Sometimes that meant telling Tommy he was wrong, just plain wrong.

It meant that both of them had to trust they were in this together: Tommy wasn't leading Buck into a life he didn't understand, and Buck wasn't trapping Tommy in a relationship that Tommy didn't want. It meant that sometimes Tommy had to walk away from a fight, go on a walk or a drive, and they both trusted that he would come back. What they had was worth fighting for, and neither of them would give into the fear of leaving and being left behind.

All things considered, almost dying made Tommy want to actually live, and ask for things, and make space for the things he wanted: I want to train pilots. I want to rebuild Harbor so our friends who are gone don't think we abandoned them. I want to become a firehouse captain. I want to stay on the ground and rebuild a station, and let others take to the sky and find themselves, like I did.

I want to be with you, Evan, even though sometimes I look at you and don't know how you got into my life and why you'd want to stay. I want you to stay at my house more often, as much as you think I want and then as much as you actually want. I want you to stop being afraid to leave things here. I want you to move in with me. I want us to trust that this isn't too much for us. I want us to make our future. I want it now.

So Buck stayed and made it theirs.

---

Tommy beats him home, but not by much. This might be one of Buck's favorite secret Tommy rituals, the ones that Buck didn't see until he moved in.

Every time Tommy gets home from a shift, he's going to stand at the mailbox and flip through every single piece of mail, sigh loudly, then head inside. Buck grabs his bag and heads over so he can hook his chin over Tommy's shoulder and participate, too.

"I'm dreading the day all the junk mailers discover you've moved," Tommy murmurs. "Never thought I'd need a bigger mailbox."

"Homeowner worries," Buck adds seriously, then grins when Tommy makes a face at him. "Anything good?"

Tommy hands over the three Christmas cards he's found so far: one of Tommy's friends from the Army, the Wilsons (and they are always The Wilsons on their envelopes), and the whole Ramirez family (one of Tommy's friends from Harbor).

"It's been long enough that I even miss his snoring." Tommy sighs. "May 2026, the return of Harbor Station." He pauses, but doesn't try to turn and look at Buck. "I keep thinking about how weird it'll feel. I'll be happy to be back because I love that place. That's my firehouse, my station, but."

"Yeah," Buck says. "Yeah, I get it."

"It'll never be the same." Tommy pauses, then says, "They're doing a private dedication in April. I put it on the calendar."

"I saw." Buck gently kisses the side of his neck. "I'll be there. And you'll be there, Captain Kinard."

"Interim captain," Tommy corrects.

"Interim with high probability of being made permanent after six months," Buck corrects further. "Because you're the best and no one loves that place like you do. And hey, what about my snoring? I thought I was special."

That finally gets Tommy to turn and kiss Buck, right at the corner of his mouth. "Dork. Brat. Whatever you're playing at today."

"Brat, definitely," Buck says as he bites at his lower lip. "Come on, there's still more mail."

"There's still more mail, god forbid it ever stops. Huh."

There's a red envelope, so it must be another Christmas card. The handwriting is very careful and old-fashioned, tight lines and loops at the very center of the envelope. It's the kind of precision and attention to the most minute details that he sees every day, but now it's postmarked from Ventura, CA.

Mr. Thomas Kinard Mr. Evan Buckley

"Now how in the hell did he get my address? And how did he track you here?" Tommy asks. Buck finally notices the R. Kinard in the top left corner. No return address, just the city, state, and zip code.

"Internet, probably," Buck says. "And my Instagram isn't private. I didn't post your face but I did post, you know, moving boxes and stuff. I'm sorry if that was too much."

"Nothing to apologize for," Tommy replies. "And I doubt my father uses Instagram. Some nosy cousin must have snitched."

He props his chin on Tommy's shoulder again. He doesn't want Tommy to see his face, as curious as he is to see Tommy's. There's a lump in his throat that Robert Kinard doesn't deserve, but Buck still feels something. There's no bridge to build here, but there's this crumb: I see you.

And maybe on some level it terrifies Tommy to be seen, but... maybe it doesn't.

It's one good thing. One good thing. One good thing this man can do.

Buck steps back and takes the rest of the mail as Tommy holds the envelope and considers it. He finally opens it and, to Buck's surprise, laughs.

"Didn't expect this sappy shit from him," Tommy says as he shows Buck the card. It's pretty typical drug store Christmas fare with a big white dove holding a ribbon, some silver glitter, red accents, and in huge cursive script the words: Peace, Love, and Joy to Your Family.

Buck wonders if he's imagining the way time stretches out as he and Tommy look at the card.

To Your Family

It's one good thing.

Buck coughs and asks, "Anything inside? Like a message, not—"

"He owes me a lot more than a $5 bill in a gas station Christmas card if he wants to make up with me." Inside the card it says: Merry Christmas. -Robert

"He didn't sign it Dad?" Buck asks.

"Yeah," Tommy says slowly. "Yeah, that's weird, but he's never sent me a Christmas card before so he's probably never had to think about it." Tommy looks at it for a beat, then closes it. "I don't hate it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Tommy sounds a little surprised by himself. "I don't want it with the others open on the mantle, but maybe like… still in the envelope, off to the side. Just so it's there." There's a beat before Tommy says, "I just like seeing our names like this."

Buck smiles to himself. "Me too."

Tommy catches his eye and laughs as he tucks the card back into the envelope. "Alright, let's get inside. I need a nap and then we've got our Howie and Maddie double date tonight: dinner and vintage Christmas hijinks. Christmas in Connecticut, baby. Deeply underappreciated classic. I think you're gonna love it."

"If you love it, I love it."

"And it's under two hours."

"I love it," Buck laughs. "Love it more than anything."

They only make it a few steps to the front door before Tommy pulls Buck into his arms, hands on his waist and movie-star-dreamy eyes fixed on Buck's. "More than me?"

Buck pretends to think about it. "If it's under 90 minutes before the credits."

Tommy doesn't even bother rolling his eyes. He kisses Buck and deepens the kiss when Buck wraps his arms around his neck. There's no forgetting where they are as they kiss: in front of their home, on their street, in their neighborhood, right out in the open for anyone and everyone to see. There's nowhere they'd rather be.

[synvil]

Interested // VID : 002 » Viewing Pleasure (( Camgirl! Series ))

a/n : ahhh thank you for the love and support ! <3 feel free to leave thoughts, comments or suggestions, either in the comments or my ask box! :3 picture found online.

btw i can’t fucking think of titles for the life of me.

synopsis : things between you and jj get a little tense. meanwhile another person seems to grow infatuated with you and you’re getting a little excited for your next stream?

agh i’m so bad at titles and summaries ;-;

Vid : 001 // Vid : 003

viewing pleasure m.list

“Add to cart~!”

You squeal in excitement, unable to contain your joy as you make your first purchase online after your payment came in from your first stream.

"Haha, I can't believe it. I can even afford to get same-day delivery."

JJ stands at a distance, watching you with his arms crossed and his lips in a thin line. His eyes are unable to leave your form, constantly trailing up and down your body, always finding itself on the round of your ass. He bites his lip, attempting to be discreet as he taps his fist on the surface of the countertop a few times before clearing his throat. "So, I assume it went well."

“You kidding?” You whirl your head towards him with shining eyes. “It went way better than i thought. I’m so relieved.”

JJ gives a bitter smile, his brow twitching slightly. “So you made some decent money then. That means you’re not going to stream anymore?” He says, making his way over, pulling at his shirt to tuck it over his pants in hopes it covers the visible erection.

“Hmm.. no, I might continue.” You say, watching as he takes a seat beside you, and his brows furrow. “What? I thought you made enough money for rent.”

“well, yeah, but I like being able to make so much money.. and I had a lot more viewers for my first stream than expected.” You reason, setting your phone down after making the purchase. “I mean, I don’t have to stress about finding another job that pays me so little, and with streaming, I can work any time, any day.”

JJ sits up straight as he narrows his eyes at your reasoning. Being able to make money fast was nice but it shouldn’t be at the expense of your body online. “[Name], what about all the creeps online? Who knows what kind of weird old perverts were saving videos and pictures of you?”

Your frown becomes evident on your face, but part of you knew he was right. Streaming wasn’t the safest activity and you didn’t want to sound greedy, but having that much money was more important to you right now. You’d only keep going to make enough to save for bills and stuff, while also saving enough for your own miscellaneous purchases. But..

“I know you’re right but i’ll be okay, J. Besides..” a flush overcomes your cheeks as you shyly look away, feeling embarrassed to admit this to your best friend.

“I kinda liked the attention.. It’s nice hearing and reading everyone complimenting me and liking what they saw. I might do more, but I won’t go crazy with it. I’ll only do it until I make enough in savings.”

JJ hitches a breath, his eyes widening when he hears your confession. It wasn’t anything serious but the way his cock twitches and his heart pounds makes him look away. “You..like showing off your body?”

“Y-Yeah..” You nod in confirmation, pink tints on your cheeks as you look away.

The blonde swallows a bit, holding his breath to gain some control as he turns away. “Shit.”

“JJ?”

“I gotta go. Talk to you later.” He abruptly stands and walks off, heading out of your house and to the door, shutting it behind him as he mounts his truck and drives away.

Your taken back and wonder if your confession drove him away, sighing softly and feeling a bit of guilt filling you up as you turn back to your phone and try to distract yourself.

“Who would’ve thought?..”

Rafe found himself repeatedly looking through your photos on your social media, in disbelief that you were on Kildare Island with him. And it pissed him off knowing how close you were with Maybank, seeing the many pictures of the two of you together.

If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve assumed you two were together.

But how has he never seen you before..? He’s practically grown up with JJ yet he can’t seem to recall ever seeing someone like you around.

Surely he’d remember someone so fucking attractive.. his thumb can’t seem to swipe away from your bikini photos.

Before he could admire any more, Topper sends him a text.

‘Bro, were you watching the link I sent you? Holy shit, she’s so hot. What I wouldn’t give to get a chance to fuck her.’

Rafe scoffs at the text as he rolls his eyes. Of course he noticed Topper's user donating money to your stream as well. Topper was really irritating sometimes. It seems all he could care about was sex and money. You definitely seemed like the type of person who was very sweet, innocent and pure.. someone who he could easily destroy and corrupt from how petite you were, as he hovers over you and slowly travels his hands down to your cunt, the same pussy you were rubbing just yesterday and—

“What the fuck?”

Rafe lets out a shaky breath, catching himself and his thoughts, unaware of his hardened cock in his tight jeans, the desperation to be freed evident from how painful it was becoming.

He brings his hand down and palms himself for a moment, doing anything to relieve himself before he grunts and pulls his hand away. There was no way he was going to be jerking off to someone he didn’t even know existed until now.

“Shit, I need some fucking air.” And despite the restricting pain of his jeans against his cock, he swipes his keys off his desk and heads out, taking his bike on a ride.

"Ugh, so damn stubborn." JJ plops down on his couch, dragging a hand over his face as he inhales heavily. He pulls out his phone and finds himself scrolling through social media. The blonde was sitting at home, frustrated at your insistence to keep streaming. Surely you made enough to cover rent for the next month or so, so why did you want to keep streaming for everyone to see?

It fills him to the brim with jealousy. No one should be looking at you in that way. Much less, a particular kook.

Shit, he was so distracted by you that he forgot what happened during your stream. "Fucking Cameron.. the nerve of that bastard." He scowls, conflicted about what to be more annoyed at. You continuing to stream or Rafe Cameron being one of your viewers.

“Delivery!”

Pounding on the door snaps JJ from his thoughts as he looks up from his phone, thumb instinctively shutting off the device to hide the fact that he was sifting through the photos of you two together. “Comin’!”

With a sigh, the blonde runs a hand through his hair as he makes his way out of his room towards the door. He opens the front door to see a familiar man behind the screen and he feigns a smile. “Rich, always a pleasure.”

Growing up on Kildare meant a lot of the residents knew each other, including the delivery man, who had a mutual disliking towards JJ, grimacing at the sight.

But JJ merely just shares a playful grin. “It wouldn’t kill you to smile, y’know. Afraid you’ll get wrinkles?” He jokes and the man rolls his eyes. “Shut it, Maybank. You’re lucky I don’t throw your damn package in the ocean.”

JJ gasps at that, widening his eyes childishly. “Well, that’s not very environmentally friendly!” He laughs as he takes the box from his hands. “But anyway, what the hell is this? I didn’t order anything.”

“Well, it’s not my problem now.” Rich hands over the device and pen for JJ’s signature. JJ fiddles with the box, inspecting it curiously before taking the device to sign. “What is it?”

Grunting in annoyance, the delivery man swipes the device from Jj’s hands. “The fuck should I know? Piss off, Maybank.”

Scoffing at the rudeness, JJ turns around and kicks the door shut with his foot before walking over to the counter in the kitchen. He finally sees the address line on the box and recognizes his house address but the name piques his interest.

“[Name]?” He murmurs, confusion lacing his eyes as he pulls out his phone. “Must’ve forgot to change it from last time..” He taps along the screen before reaching your contact.

« [Nickname] / Princess 😘😍 »

Out of curiosity, as he’s typing away a message, he goes over to a drawer and pulls out a pocket knife before heading back over to the package. It must've been the package you had ordered earlier.

‘Hey, a package came to my house with your name on it. Think it got sent here by mistake. Want me to drop it off?’

Once sent, JJ sets aside his phone and cuts through the top of the box with ease, expecting it to be some clothes or such you bought for yourself.

But the item inside was completely unexpected.

JJ’s mouth becomes dry as he attempts to wet it by swallowing whatever he could as he looks inside.

Inside the box was a remote controlled, vibrating toy.

“D-Did she buy this for her next stream..?” JJ breathily exhales, his jaw clenching at the way his hardening cock twitches at the imagination of you rubbing the vibrating wand over your clit, and the possible lewd noises you’d illicit.

“Fuck..” Maybe another stream couldn’t hurt. He was conflicted. He couldn’t let you do this on camera, but he’d be damned if the thought didn’t excite him. His mind reverts back to your words.

‘“I kinda liked the attention..”

“Y-You liked showing off your body?”

“Yeah..”’

JJ clears his throat as he closes back up the box, finding a roll of tape in his drawer and securing it back up before setting it somewhere else for you.

As he sets it down, his phone buzzes from a text from you.

‘DON’T OPEN IT JJ! I’ll come by and pick it up soon’

JJ grunts at the message and exhales sharply, turning off his phone. “Too late..” He mutters under his breath.

“Thanks, J. I’ll try and stop by later tonight. Need anything while I’m out?” You take the box from his hands, JJ seemingly uncharacteristically avoiding your direct gaze. Regardless, he shakes his head as he clears his throat, leaning against the doorframe as he crosses his arms. “Hey- So, you’re streaming today?”

You carry the box towards your car, visibly relieved to see it untouched and smile lightly before turning to JJ. “Yeah, why? You gonna try and talk me out of it again?”

“No-! No-“ He clears his throat again when he realizes his outburst and awkwardly scratches the back of his head. “Uh, just- good luck, y’know. I’m sure it’ll be great. And hey- we can reschedule tonight if you’re not feeling up to it.”

You set the box on the bottom of your car in the back and furrow your brows at his words. “Thanks. But we’ll see. I should be able to come over on time if I’m not busy, but i’ll let you know.”

“Of course.” The blonde manages a smile, sending you finger guns before he waves you off. “Drive safe.”

Entering your car, you wave goodbye before pulling out and driving towards the Yacht Club, on the border of the Cut and Figure Eight.

“Dude, you should’ve watched til the end of the stream. It was amazing.”

Topper’s voice is heard when Rafe Cameron steps onto the large dock, walking past various other patrons on the benches and tables, and stepping up to the bar where Topper and Kelce stood.

Kelce shakes his head at Topper’s gushing. “Nah, man, streamers aren’t my thing. I mean, why would I spend so much on some girl i don’t even know and won’t even get to touch.” Kelce notices Rafe approaching and nods at him in acknowledgment. “Hey, you agree with me right?”

“Agree with what?” Rafe says as he stands beside them and Topper scoffs lightly. “You watched the link I sent you right? God, she’s so hot. You should’ve seen what she did before she ended her stream. I bet she’s streaming again today.”

Rafe barely manages to hide his eye roll, his hands clenching into fists. If he was holding a glass, he was almost sure he’d crack it. Something in him stirred the more Topper talked about you, and it made him angry. He had to maintain his self control before he punched the shit out of him.

But it made Rafe confused. Why was he so angry every time Topper opened his stupid fucking mouth? He had the exact same thoughts about you.

Was it because another man was talking about you? It wasn’t like you were his. He hardly even knew you. Is it jealousy?

Tch. Rafe Cameron, jealous? He hasn’t felt jealous since years ago, when his then still alive father was always favoring his sister over him. Rafe Cameron was not jealous.

He barely pays attention to Kelce and Topper, and instead catches a familiar voice nearby.

“Thanks, Sofia. It was actually more helpful than I thought, so thanks for telling me about it.”

“No problem, [Name]. I actually watched it last night, you were great.” Her playful wink makes you laugh a bit bashfully and embarrassingly as you wave it off. “I’m still a bit shy but I think what I bought today will help me a little more this time.”

Sofia slides something across the counter for you and you send a grateful smile as you pick it up. “Thanks. Good luck with the rest of your shift. I should be free this weekend if you’re down to hang out.”

“Actually, this weekend was when I was planning to stream.” She says apologetically and you only grin at her. “I’ll be watching you then. I could learn a thing or two.”

You both share giggles with one another before she’s called somewhere else and waves goodbye to you. You wave farewell and take the item off the counter before turning away.

But as soon as you do so, you meet eyes with someone, who’s staring intensely at you with parted lips, almost like they couldn’t believe you were standing before them.

Giving an awkward smile, you pull yourself away from the counter and turn to leave, heading back to your car.

“Time to go.”

a/n : so ima be honest, i didn’t fully watch every episode of obx, so idk how completely accurate the places are and the availability of pogues being able to just enter these establishments, so im changing it up to just being, whoever’s got the money can come in, even though im sure a lot of country clubs and such are invitations only.

anyhoo hoped you all enjoyed! i’m actually tryna figure out how to get more involvement with Rafe and how to get him introduced- like should he walk up to her or dm her orrr ya. any suggestions would be lovely!! <3

spoiler : i have a plan to invite one of them on stream or one to practice off camera ;)

AH SHIT I POSTED WITHOUT THE TAGS CAN PPL SEE THIS PLS

taglist : @haruvalentine4321 @lilithblackkk @sleepiibunniiii @kiiyomei @mariamadison6-blog @livinobx @doesnt-care

unedited nor proofread.

[livwritessometimes]

Can you please do a part 2 to “a footnote will do (for me)” with Charles Leclerc?

Perhaps, something like this: She moves on with someone else (one date), and he sees them, gets jealous and chases her. Apologising and grovelling all the way till they make up?

I loved that fix but it was heartbreaking

If The World Was Ending

: Charles Leclerc x Reader

: If the world was ending, you'd come over, right?

: Part 1

: Main Masterlist

: Author's Note - Here you go! Hope this heals the heartbreak from part 1 :)

...

I was distracted And in traffic I didn't feel it When the earthquake happened But it really got me thinkin' Were you out drinkin'? Were you in the living room Chillin' watchin' television

It's funny how life works—why is it that when you're in a rush, you find yourself stuck in endless traffic. Charles let out a sigh; he was exhausted. The past few months had not been the best for him. The season was finally over; he should have been out there relaxing but all Charles could think about was how they lost the constructor's championship. He knows it's not his fault—not entirely, at least—but he couldn't help letting his mind wander. Things had been good for a while; the constant hustle bustle had made his life better. The calm now left him with too much time on his hands to think. It had left him with time to think about his brother's engagement. He still remembers how happy he was the day he got the call from Enzo. It gave him time to think about Arthur—how he got to race with his little brother by his side. That memory brought a smile to Charles' face. It also gave him time to think about Alex; his Alex. Before he could think of anything else, Charles was brought back into reality by his phone ringing. It was her.

"Hey, I was just think-" Charles said before he got cut off by Alex.

"Are you okay?" She asked, voice a little panicky.

"What-ya of course, why?" He questioned, confused by her sudden panic.

"We just had an earthquake, did you not feel it?" She questioned.

"Oh...no not really. I'm stuck in traffic, i didn't feel much," Charles answered.

"Oh good! Alright, I'll see you soon, yeah?" She asked.

"Ya, I'll be there in 15, hopefully," Charles said before he hung up.

Setting his phone down, Charles looked out of the window once again, waiting for the traffic to clear up. As he waited, his mind went to one person—someone who had been on his mind for a while now. He knows he shouldn't think about her, he has a girlfriend and she has a boyfriend—or at least that's what he assumes based on what Arthur had said. Charles had no business thinking about Y/n. It was his fault they drifted apart. Had he not completely ignored Y/n after her confession, they would still be in touch like they used to be, instead of become strangers who only see each other now at big celebrations.

Finally free from the traffic, Charles made his way towards his house. It was a Friday, which got him thinking: Was she out drinking? He wondered if Y/n felt the earthquake. Or was she at home, chilling and watching television with her new boyfriend? As much as he did not want to admit, the thought of that left a bitter taste in his mouth. Which was weird, because Charles was clearly happy with Alex. Why would the though of Y/n being happy with someone else hurt his heart? Not wanting to think further about this, Charles finally got out of his car and headed towards his apartment, to his girlfriend and dog waiting for his arrival.

It's been a year now Think I've figured out how How to let you go and let communication die out

Life was different now for Y/n. She had different goals, and different priorities. It's funny how so much can change in the span of a few months. Y/n had moved to a different house, one that was closer to her best friend, Arthur. She liked this house a lot better than her last; good lighting, a great neighborhood, and living super close to your closest friend—what more could she ask for? However, the real reason why Y/n liked this house so much was that it was in a location far away from him. She wouldn't have to worry about bumping into him every time she'd make a grocery run or go to her favourite coffee shop. Things had been good. She hadn't thought about him in a long time. It's weird how quickly you can go from talking everyday to barely seeing each other at all these days. Y/n preferred it this way. It honestly felt like a year had passed since she'd last seen Charles' face in person. Of course she still saw him on TV, but it just wasn't the same. Y/n even started seeing someone, all thanks to Arthur. This guy was good and clearly into her. It felt nice to finally be wanted. After chasing something for so long with no result, it was refreshing to feel wanted. Y/n figured that if she gave this guy a chance, maybe that would be her ticket to forgetting about Charles. And so far, it had worked. Y/n finally felt like she could move past what had happened between her and Charles. She had finally figured out how to let him go.

I know, you know, we know, You weren't down for forever and it's fine I know, you know, we know We weren't meant for each other and it's fine

Y/n stood in the kitchen, helping out Arthur's girlfriend with the snacks. It had been Arthur's idea to host a game night after watching a couple of reels about college kids hosting annual game night. 'I'm starting a family tradition,' is what he'd said when he invited Y/n and her boyfriend to his house. Rolling her eyes at the memory, she looked at the man in question, laughing at something Y/n's boyfriend had said. Slowly, she trailed her eyes to the left towards, the older Leclerc, only to find him already looking at her. Y/n quickly turned her head and focused on what Jade was talking about. Even though she had moved on, seeing him still felt strange. Every time she looked at Charles, she saw the face of the man she had loved at one point in time. It was also the face of the man who had rejected her. But that's okay now. She had accepted that they weren't meant for each other, even if it was a hard pill to swallow.

But if the world was ending You'd come over, right? You'd come over and you'd stay the night Would you love me for the hell of it? All our fears would be irrelevant

Hours had passed, and the entire group was now sprawled in different corners of the living room. They had spent the last few hours playing a variety of games, which had led to several heated arguments between the Leclerc brothers. Who would have thought they could get so competitive over board games? The night slowly died down and Enzo was the first one to leave. Arthur had dragged Y/n's boyfriend into a different room to show him something she didn't care enough to pay attention to. Making her way outside, she could see Alex and Jade in the kitchen cleaning up the aftermath of such intense game night. As she stared outside, she felt a presence next to her, followed by a soft, 'Hey'. Turning slightly towards the sound, she found Charles standing next to her, staring at the sky. "Hey," she murmured, glancing back ahead. "It's been a while...," said Charles, his gaze fixed on her. "It has. How have you been?" Y/n asked, keeping her eyes ahead, avoiding eye contact. "I've been good, I think," Charles said, his voice a bit uncertain. "How have you been? I see you're dating someone new now," He added, a hint of bitterness laced in his tone. Turning to face him, Y/n said, "Yeah, I have. He's a good guy. In fact, Arthur was the one who introduced us." Charles felt betrayed. How could he not, his own brother was responsible for this. "How is Alex? Oh, and how can I forget about little Leo?" She added. Upon her question, Charles glanced towards the kitchen where Alex was laughing at something Jade had said. He should feel happy—he has a girlfriend who loves him; he should be over the moon. Yet, for some reason, his mind wandered back to the lady in front of him. He could see the sincerity in her eyes—it was the same as when she had first offered him a lift to Arthur's party. The moon cast a soft glow on her face, and it took everything in Charles to not reach out and caress her cheek. Y/n raised an eyebrow at Charles, waiting for him to answer her. "Oh, yeah, things have been good. They're good," Charles said bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. "Good," Y/n replied, watching as her boyfriend make his way into the living room. "Well, that's my cue. I should get going. It's—it's been nice catching up after such a long time," Y/n smiled at him as she walked into the living room towards her boyfriend. Charles stood there for a moment, watching her leave with her boyfriend. Glancing back at the sky, he muttered to himself, "Good...but not the same without you."

I tried to imagine Your reaction It didn't scare me when the earthquake happened But it really got me thinkin' The night we went drinkin' Stumbled in the house And didn't make it past the kitchen

Y/n slowly made her way to the bathroom, taking off one earring at a time. She felt her boyfriend press a gentle kiss to her forehead before heading off to change his clothes. Staring at the mirror in front of her, she let out a sigh. Tonight was harder than Y/n had expected. Seeing him again shook the very foundation she had spent months building. It baffled her how Charles still held so much power over her. Talking to Charles after such a long time brought back so many memories, but one in particular stood out. She wasn't sure if it was the starry night that had reminded her of that day, or if simply being in Charles' presence had sparked that memory.

*flashback*

It was after a particularly rough Grand Prix that Y/n and Charles found themselves getting absolutely wasted. It was a quiet bar near Y/n's house, one that didn't have many visitors—especially considering it was 3 a.m. Slowly getting up, Y/n stumbled, losing her footing. She fully expected to smack the floor when a strong pair of arms broke her fall and steadied her. "It's okay, I've got you," Charles said as he led her out of the bar towards her house, not once letting go of her. It took them exactly 8 minutes to get the lock to Y/n's door. She remembers it because that's how long Charles kept on hugging her, leaning into her for 'moral support,' as he liked to call it. Slowly the two stumbled into her house. As they walked inside, Charles lost his footing and fell to the floor, pulling a drunk Y/n down with him. Worried, Charles quickly sat up, looking at Y/n to check if she was alright. His worry soon eased as the room was filled with Y/n's laughter. Seeing her laugh, Charles couldn't help but join in. He laid back down besides her, still smiling. "I love you Y/n/n," said Charles as he pulled her in for a hug. Unbeknownst to him, Y/n instantly sobered up when she heard him say those three words. There lay a drunk Charles, happily snuggling with what he assumed to be a drunk Y/n, forgetting about all the worries in the world and just being content lying there with her. Alternatively, there lay Y/n in the arms of the boy she realized she saw as much more than 'just a friend,' thinking if the world were to end tomorrow, she'd be happy to die like this—in his arms.

*present*

Finishing the last step of her nighttime routine, Y/n made her way to her bed, into the arms of her boyfriend. She knew it was wrong; she shouldn't think like this. But one thought lingered in her mind—It's not the same.

Ah. it's been a year now Think I've figured out how How to think about you without it rippin' my heart out

The drive back home was a silent one for Charles and Alex. For the first time in a long time, Charles felt happy. Not once did he think about racing or losing the championship. Not once did the negative thoughts that had plagued his mind for months resurface. He'd like to think it was because of the game night, but no matter how much he wanted that to be true, he knew that wasn't the reason for this happiness. It made him wonder if he had made a mistake—getting together with Alex so quickly, adding Leo into the mix. It made him wonder what would have happened if he had given her a chance, if only he had waited to see how things might play out. Charles thought he had matured. He figured it had been months now, it wouldn't affect him as much. But he was wrong. Even now, after all this time, thinking about her, about them, still breaks his heart.

I know, you know, we know You weren't down for forever and it's fine I know, you know, we know We weren't meant for each other and it's fine If the world was ending You'd come over, right? You'd come over, right? You'd come over, you'd come over, you'd come over, right?

Charles just couldn't fall asleep. No matter how hard he tried, he lay there, in his bed, wide awake. He looked to his side to find Alex passed out with Leo by her feet. As much as he hated to admit, he did not find the sight as comforting as he used to. Looking back at the ceiling, Charles could not bear to let his thoughts run wild for another second. Quickly, he got up and changed into his tracks. He figured a jog would help calm his mind down. And so, that's what he did: he grabbed his keys and made his way out of the house at 2 a.m. for a late-night run.

The second Charles stepped onto the street, he ran. He ran for as long as his feet could take him. After running for what felt like hours, Charles stopped by a park. He took a moment to look at his surroundings and realized he was far away from his neighborhood. Instead, he realized he was much closer to the place he had just come home from a few hours ago—he was near Arthur's neighborhood. Making his way inside the park, Charles spotted someone sitting on one of the benches. As he walked closer, he realized that it was the one person he wanted to get out of his mind. "Y/n?" said Charles in a confused tone. Looking up at the sound, Y/n came face to face with Charles. "Charles! What are you doing here?" She asked, confused by his sudden presence. "I could ask you the same," he paused to look at his watch before continuing, "That too, at 3 a.m.?" Not knowing what to say, Y/n scooted a little, inviting the boy to take a seat next to her. "I couldn't sleep," she said in a quiet voice. For a while, neither of them said anything. The two sat there in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet.

"Do you ever wonder what would have happened if things had gone differently?" Charles questioned, breaking the silence. "Huh? Differently, how?" Y/n asked, confused about what the boy in front of her was getting at. Charles knows he shouldn't say it, but he couldn't help himself. In his mind, it was either now or never. "Do you ever wonder if things would have been different, had I—had we, um..." Charles hesitated. "Had we what, Charles?" Y/n asked, now turned, giving him her full attention. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "Had we gotten together? Had I reacted differently to your confession? Do you think things would have been different then?" Stunned at his question, Y/n was taken aback. "I don't see the point in bringing this up now, Charles. It doesn't matter anyways," she said, slowly turned away from the boy. In an instant, Charles grabbed her hands, stopping her. "It matters to me, Y/n, please," he pleaded. "I don't know, Charles...I don't know, maybe?" Y/n said. Letting out a sigh, she continued, "Why now, though? Why now, when I have a boyfriend and you have a girlfriend...and a DOG, for fuck's sake." Y/n suddenly felt anger towards the boy. Why was he having these doubts all of a sudden? And why now, of all times? She had finally gotten used to living without constantly having him in the back of her mind. So why now? "Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I'm aware of how wrong all of this is? I tried to forget you. I tried really hard to forget every single thing about you, and for a while, it worked. I was happy; I was so happy with Alex, and then we got Leo. I felt complete...but it only lasted for a while. Every time I had a bad day, you were the first person I thought about calling. Every time I won a race or got a podium, your eyes were the ones I searched for as soon as I got up there. Do you think I wanted this to happen? Do you think I enjoyed breaking your heart back then? I hated myself for the way I reacted," Charles said, finally letting go of every single thing he had been holding onto for such a long time. "WELL THEN WHY DID YOU REACT THAT WAY?" Y/n said, losing her cool after Charles' outburst. "I—I don't know," he said, ashamed of the way he handled things. "I just assumed, if we became a couple, things wouldn't work out, because let's be honest I know my luck—they never do, and then we break up. So, I not only lose you, I also lose a bond that I held so close to my heart," he continued. Y/n was at a loss for words. It felt like a fever dream. All she wanted was for Charles to want her. And now that he did, she wasn't sure what to do. Somehow, amidst all this chaos, Y/n's mind drifted to Alex. She wondered if Alex was aware of this, If she had her doubts. She thought about how happy Alex looked earlier today. Snapping out of her thoughts, Y/n got up. "Charles...I'm sorry but we can't—I can't do this. Think about Alex. How can you do this to her? I have a boyfriend now, and for once, I don't have to hope that he feels the same way I do. For once, I don't have to doubt the feelings that we share—whether they're real or not. I'm sorry, but there will never be an 'us,'" Y/n said as she started to walk towards her apartment.

"You said 'feelings.' Does that mean you don't love him?" Charles questioned. Turning back to look at the boy, who was now standing as well, "What?" Y/n asked. "You just said 'the feelings you share,' and not love. Does that mean you don't love him? Is it because, deep down, you know, you still love me?" Charles questioned, taking a step closer. "I'm sorry, Charles," Y/n said as she walked away, leaving Charles all alone in the middle of the park.

I know, you know, we know You weren't down for forever and it's fine I know, you, know, we know We weren't meant for each other and it's fine

The next time Y/n heard about Charles was a few months later. She had decided to spend the day with Arthur and Jade. The trio had spent the majority of their day lounging and watching movies. As the day progressed, they slowly got comfortable on the couch and started to talk about a variety of things, with a glass of wine in hand. Somewhere in between, the conversation about Enzo and Charlotte's wedding came up. "Hey Y/n/n, do you have a date in mind?" Jade asked. Y/n had broken up with her boyfriend not long after that night in the park with Charles. Arthur gave Y/n a sad smile. He knew about Y/n's crush, and Charles' rejection. He also knew about that night in the park. "Umm...not really, I don't have anyone particular in mind," said Y/n with a little hesitation. "Ahh, you know what? why don't you go with Charles? I always thought you two would make a cute pair," said Jade as she got up to get some more snacks. Upon hearing this, Y/n shot Arthur a look. "What?" she asked. Taking a sip of his drink, Arthur said, "He broke up with her." He continued, "He broke up with her a while ago...A few weeks after the park incident." Y/n didn't know how to react. "I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to feel guilty over their breakup," said Arthur. A soft 'Oh' was all Y/n could mutter. "Just know it's not your fault. He chose to break up with her. This has nothing to do with you," said Arthur. Getting up to go get another bottle, he turned around and said, "I know things are complicated between the two of you, but for what it's worth, don't let this guilt stop you from going after what you want. That is, if that's what you still want." With that Arthur left Y/n alone with her thoughts.

But if the world was ending You'd come over, right? You'd come over and you'd stay the night Would you love me for the hell of it? All our fears would be irrelevant If the world was ending You'd come over, right?

Everything about tonight was perfect—the lights, the decoration, the location; it was all perfect. Y/n felt honored when Charlotte had asked her to be one of her bridesmaids. She still remembers how she could not stop crying and how it took both Enzo and Charlotte to calm her down. Standing in front of her was Enzo, a man Y/n considered to be her older brother, looking as handsome as ever. Locking eyes with her, Enzo smiled at Y/n. 'You've got this,' she mouthed to him. Diverting her eyes, Y/n made eye contact with him. Standing tall in an expensive suit was none other than Enzo's younger brother, Charles. The two had not spoken even once since that night—not when they arrived at the wedding location, not at the family dinner, and not even when they walked down the aisle together as the groomsman and bridesmaid. It was clear that Charles wanted to talk to her. He made many attempts to convey that. Y/n, however, wasn't ready to have that talk. Doing so would mean the two would have to come face-to-face with the fact that they unintentionally sabotaged their relationships for each other—something Y/n was not ready to accept.

The ceremony was beautiful. Y/n even shed a few tears at the couple's vow's. It was finally time for their reception. As everyone was making their way to reception venue, Y/n was pulled into the corner by someone. Before she could say anything, she heard "Shh, It's me," and then the owner of that voice came in view. "Charles," she said, although her voice came muffled under Charles' hand. Smiling at her, he said, "I wanted to talk to you, which I think you have noticed by now, considering you suddenly vanish the moment I make my way towards you." Removing his hand from over her mouth, Y/n said, "What do you want Charles?" "Isn't it obvious by now? I want you, Y/n. I know what I said in the park was stupid and selfish. I shouldn't have unloaded my feeling onto you like that. I know I should have figured things out for myself before I did anything. And I've learned it the hard way. I know I hurt a lot of people in the process, and I genuinely regret that. If I could go back in time and reverse things, I would. But you also have to know I have never been more sure about anything else in my life than I am about you since that night in the park. I love you, and I have loved you ever since I met you. I want to be the person you call after a long day, the one you think about every time something good happens in your life. Most of all, I want to be the one you think about, no matter what," said Charles, holding nothing but sincerity in his eyes. Y/n let out a few tears she didn't know she had been holding in. "How are you so sure things will work out? How do you know we're not going to wake up in a year or two's time and realize how big of a mistake this was? And how things would have been better had we let them be just the way they were? How?" Y/n questioned Charles. "I don't, and I can't be sure that this will work out," said Charles. Taking a step forward, he held onto Y/n's hand before continuing, "But I know that you're worth the risk. I had to learn it the long way," he said with a smirk, upon which Y/n smacked his arm. "Charles!" she said in a tone of warning. "I'm sorry, mon amour, but you should know, if the world was going to end tomorrow, you'd be the only person I would want to spend the night with. No matter what happens I want you, Y/n. You're worth the risk," said Charles.

No, there wouldn't be a reason why We would even have to say goodbye

"Are you sure about this, Charles," said Y/n as she looked at him. "I'm more than sure, mon amour," said Charles, his eyes gleaming with nothing but sincerity and love. And so Y/n nodded her head. "Yes," she said as she looked at the boy kneeling in front of her. Jumping up in joy, Charles let out a scream, "She said yes!" All of a sudden, their friends and family came out from where they were hiding, all excited to congratulate the couple on their engagement. Y/n was pulled into an embrace by none other than her best friend, "You knew, didn't you?" she asked. "Of course I knew, who do you think helped him pick out that ring," said Arthur, still hugging her. "I'm happy for you," he said as he pulled away. "Me too," Y/n said smiling up at him.

As Y/n looked at Charles, she knew no matter her fears and doubts, she would never regret this decision—ever.

...

[mattscoquette]

‘25 goals and ‘24 recap ♡ ୨୧ ࣪ ˖

while everyone is so focused on achievements and goals for the new year, i think it’s important to look back at what impactful things you did this year. this is a list of my most memorable moments within the last year, and my goals for the next. feel free too reblog with yours :)

— this was truly a year for the books. although i struggled with my mental health a lot, alongside other things in my personal life, i still think this year was good for me as a person and i learned a lot about myself. this is (in no particular order) some things i did this year that i think are worth mentioning.

౨ৎ started my fitness journey - i was in the gym five days a week for the longest period ever in my life. i learned to portion my food and began to eat cleaner and looked and felt the best i ever had in YEARS. as someone who struggled for a long time with self image and discipline, this was very healing for me.

౨ৎ i lost a few friends, but i made SO many new ones on here.

౨ৎ started journaling. i wrote about my day and what i was feeling. i found that having some sort of outlet really helped me with my anxiety.

౨ৎ picked up a long lost love for writing. i started to upload my work onto a platform for the first time in five years.

౨ৎ made my first big girl purchase and bought my dream car.

౨ৎ really found out my style and aesthetic. the clothes i like, the styles, colors, etc., after struggling with it for a long time.

౨ৎ developed and grew my blog to what it is today. coming on here is such an outlet for me, and i can’t thank you all enough. i know i’m just a blog on this app, but i seriously take every compliment and kind word to heart. even the smallest compliments will make my day. this year was hard on me, but everyone on this app made it so much better. i love all the love i get on here, i couldn’t be more thankful 🤍🤍 i seriously love eveyone on here so much.

special shoutout to @55sturn @sweetangelgirl7 @sirenedeslily @mattybsgroupie @freshloveee @pip4444chris @secretlocket @chrisweetheart @luverboychris @bernardsbendystraws @mattsdolll @cvnntagious + all of my mutuals ❣︎ i truly appreciate and love every one of you, i love talking with u guys so much. u make this app so fun <3

— it’s somewhat cheesy to have the “new year, new me” mindset, but i really think the start of a new year is a great way to clean the slate. they seem to go by fast, but one year can change so much. these are my goals for the new year.

౨ৎ exercise (4-5 days a week)

౨ৎ eat healthy and be mindful about food

౨ৎ ace all classes for both spring & fall semesters

౨ৎ figure out where i’m transferring to after my two year school

౨ৎ new job as a server / waitress

౨ৎ make and save lots of money

౨ৎ wardrobe and closet makeover

౨ৎ long healthy hair, white teeth

౨ৎ stop drinking soda , make coffee at home

౨ৎ get more into self care

౨ৎ listen to more music and new artists , explore albums and songs i don’t know of artists i currently like

౨ৎ write more often , try not to hold myself to a standard or a ridiculously high expectation

౨ৎ be kind to myself

all in all, i’m very excited to see what the new year brings, but sad to see this one go. this year was one i don’t think i’ll ever forget. i grew so much, and i really tend to forget that at time, as does everyone. you’re so focused on the road ahead of you, you forget to look back and see how far you’ve come. no matter what you do in your life, remember to be kind to yourself and don’t give up because you deserve to live the best life you can. i hope everyone has a very happy and healthy new year !!! i love you all <3

[persephoneprice]

gratitude for the new year

(inspired by @the-sun-and-the-sea)

over this past year, i have had so much fun on here with all of you. i appreciate everyone on here- the mutuals, the lurkers, the og trilogy fans that for some reason put up with the nonsense! all of you have made this year so much easier for someone who was struggling elsewhere in life <3

i hope we can all continue to be silly, fun, creative, and a little a lot unhinged into the next year. this fandom is such a lovely and supportive little corner. i’ve been inspired to do things i never thought i’d do- writing fanfiction, doing a fic exchange, unhinged cannibalism thoughts- the usual.

(under the cut for the gratitude things!)

- i want to start out by saying how much i appreciate anyone who sent me and ask over this past year! especially you my lovely anon friends! it’s been so much fun and in my…far too many years on tumblr i’ve never been able to interact with so many people! i cannot overstate how nice it is so have so many people will to engage about our silly little guys.

- i also want to say how much i appreciate the corso creatures discord as a whole! when we made it, i’m not going to lie, i really thought that would fizzle out quickly. so i’m so happy to see it thriving and everyone having fun on there together. thank you again, @coryo for helping make a place where can all truly be together and be ourselves!

now onto some people who have made this year so wonderful for me:

@the-sun-and-the-sea - i remember messaging you for the first time and honestly being so intimidated! you seemed like such a cool and popular blog + so many amazing fics and seemed wayyyy too cool to be talking to the weird tbosas girl. i couldn’t have been more wrong! you’re the sweetest, most genuine, and supportive person i’ve had the privilege of being friends with this year.

@felixravinstills - you have inspired me so much over the past year! before i started this blog i was so embarrassed by my interests and i felt so silly and stupid. then i met you, who was so talented and creative and insane about you little guy! and it made me feel more okay with being open about my little guys and to be a little weird about it! please forever stay the person you are <3

@fairyhagmother - my appalachian friend (in my head. you are one of us.) i was so, so excited when someone on here was so educated on appalachia and wanted to talk about it! i never would have thought at the time that in just a few months we could be talking about…coriolanus snow’s grandma’am and toxic yuri. i still think about that festus/pippa/liv ballet post you did btw. love u my friend.

@ylvisruinedmylife - hannah i couldn’t possibly fit how much i appreciate you into a post! i love bouncing off insane ideas with you and torturing hils together. i’m always amazed by how intelligent and creative and talented you are…and you’re still so friendly and supportive! your support, especially with my jessup nonsense, means the world. thank you for not killing you know who in you know what. i hope treemina never frees you.

@moreespressoformydepresso - fun fact: i also was lowkey intimidated by you for a while! imagine my surprise when you wanted to befriend me and dm and tell me about all of your fun aus! now, i couldn’t imagine my fandom experience without you. thank you for being so friendly and supportive and down to yap with me <3 you’ll never escape me 😤

@spiralling-thoughts - i love how you keep the tribute fandom alive and give so much life to all the minor tributes! you’re one of the first friends i had on here, and i really appreciate you sticking with my over this year! please always feel free to tell me all of your ideas, i love hearing them!

@majorsoapfan - AH you’re so sweet and talented! i love yapping with you in the dms and coming up with silly ideas! not to mention the absolute masterpieces of works you create!

@sparklebear11 - you fr are the maude ivory to my barb azure! you’re so silly and fun, please never change that about you. i hope the covey haunts you forever so you’ll stick around with us!

@keeperofsecretsunderthehill - i wish i had the creativity that you do! you’re always coming with such different, yet equally interesting, ideas! cranedove ceo always <3

@xtabithanala - not only did you create one of my favorite fics and help me love liv even more- you’re also so kind and supportive to me?? an angel! i hope we can talk more over this next year and get to know each other better!

i’m so looking forward to getting to know all of you guys better over this next year! @thatthingilovewith (can’t wait for more bobbin), @tumblingghosts (i miss yapping with you!, @meekmedea (always such a lovely presence but i’d love to talk to you more!), @little-de-vil (please keep yapping about the d2 lore in my dms forever), @ilovepersephoneprice (pippa friend!!!! we have so much more yapping to do!), @vampirehizzies (my mizzen sized mutual that i am so proud of!), @solar-halos (love u girlie let’s yap more), @mr-nauseam (you’re a great friend and your kindness and patience is amazing!), @ritalinrae (let’s yap more!), @threestargirls (i’m so looking forward to yapping with you in the new year!), @mollywog (we don’t often interact but i love when we do- i still think about that playground thing you said!), @jinglebellpeppre (how have we not yapped together about miz?), @julietasgf (talented artist queen) <3

if i forgot some please feel free to yell at me and i’ll tell you how much i appreciate you and why

(honorary mention to bel who i miss dearly)

have a lovely new year everyone <3

[pocket-of-sunshine24]

Home For The Holidays (S.H. x Reader)

Summary: Steve and the reader were inseparable as kids, but when high school hit, Steve became "King Steve," and their friendship fell apart. After graduation, the reader leaves Hawkins for college, trying to move on from the past.

Years later, they return home for winter break, only to be forced to confront old memories and people they thought they’d moved on from. At the top of that list is Steve Harrington. He’s changed, but is it enough for the reader to trust that he’s no longer the person who left them behind—or is there still too much pain from their past to bridge the gap?

Word Count: 13.4k

Warnings: Angst, hurt and comfort, Steve calls reader "sunshine", fluff at the end, lots of feeling alone and left out, having to talk things out, King Steve ruins things for himself (as usual)

Authors Note: Heyyyy! Here's the full fic of the drabble I posted a few days ago. I tried to keep this gender neutral, but if you notice any mistakes please let me know. Also this is my first time ever writing a fic so please be nice, but feel free to comment feedback! Thanks for reading!

Divider created by @strangergraphics-archive

Driving through Hawkins on the way home feels bittersweet. Watching all the holiday lights flash by as you turn down your street, with memories from when you were younger flashing by just as quickly. With a deep breath you try to remind yourself that you’re only home for a couple of weeks. You can do this. It’s not like you’ll have to see him. No matter how small the town is, you know you can just stay home and avoid your old usual spots no matter how much you want to see what he’s up to now. But that boat passed a long time ago. You both made your decision. You doubt he even remembers you. With that thought you pull into your driveway, an ache for what once was sits on your chest.

The house looks the same as you remember it—nothing about Hawkins ever seems to change. The faded shutters, the cracked driveway, the overgrown rose bushes that your mom used to tend to—everything is just as it was when you left, frozen in time. But as you stand there, you feel the weight of something missing, like the town itself has stalled, unmoving, while everything you once felt here has slipped away. The memories, once vivid and full of life, now feel distant, as if they belong to someone else. You take a breath, and it feels as if you’re the only one who’s changed. Hawkins hasn’t moved, but somehow, you have. And you don’t fit anymore.

You grab your bag and step out of the car, the cool air biting at your skin as you walk toward the door. The familiar sound of your mom’s voice calls out from inside, pulling you back to reality. You’re home and you’re here to spend time with your parents, not get caught up in the past.

The evening passes in a blur of catching up, the easy chatter of family life filling the space that once seemed so comforting. But no matter how hard you try, your thoughts seem haunted by the ghost of your childhood. A tall, tanned boy with a penchant for mischief. Steve Harrington.

What had he become? Was he still the same guy who’d once made you laugh until your stomach hurt, or was he still ruling over Hawkins as King Steve like he had in high school? You didn’t know. And part of you wasn’t sure you wanted to find out. You had your own life now, a life that no longer included him. The thought should have been comforting, but instead, it gnawed at you in the quiet of the evening.

Later that night, as you lie in your old bed, the familiar creaks of the house lull you into a restless sleep. You can’t shake the feeling that you no longer belong in this space. The bed feels too small, the sheets too itchy. It’s as though Hawkins itself can sense the change in you, urging you to either fit back into the version of yourself that once belonged here—or leave for good.

The next day, you wake up feeling exhausted from the restless night. Deciding that being cooped up in your house for 2 weeks will only serve to drive you insane, you head out for a morning walk to clear your mind. You spent too many hours the night before reminiscing on what was and people from your past. You need to remind yourself why you left Hawkins in the first place.

You make your way downtown and step into the grocery store, recalling your mom’s complaint about not having any eggs for the holiday party she always hosts at the end of next week. As you pass through the doors, you welcome the warmth, a respite from the biting cold. Keeping your head down, you move quickly through the aisles, eager to grab the eggs and get out without running into anyone who might recognize you.

But as soon as you send that wish out into the universe you run into Nancy Wheeler. You freeze for a moment, your stomach dropping. Nancy, Nancy, who always had a knack for seeing through people, looks at you, her expression shifting from surprise to a hint of recognition. Her eyes flash with an emotion too quick to place. The grocery store suddenly feels smaller, and the cold of the outside world seems to creep in despite the warmth around you.

"Well, look who it is," Nancy says, her voice both familiar and slightly guarded. "I didn’t expect to see you back in town." She gives you a polite but somewhat distant smile and, you can’t tell if it’s just her usual friendliness or if there's something more beneath it.

You manage a tight smile, feeling the awkwardness settling in like a thick fog. "Yeah, just for the holidays. You know how it is." You try to sound casual, but your voice feels a little too forced.

Nancy nods, taking a step back to give you space in the aisle. Her gaze lingers for a second longer than necessary, as if waiting for something, but then she pulls a carton of milk off the shelf and places it in her basket. The silence between you both stretches, heavy with unspoken words and broken promises. Past memories bubble up of watching her and Steve through their best and worst times. Memories of Steve coming to your house drunk and crying because Nancy had said their whole relationship was bullshit.There had been so much left unsaid between them, so much hurt, that it fractured his relationships with everyone else. You suppose that’s when time started to slow to a stop in Hawkins. And now, here you are, standing in the sterile aisles of the grocery store. The years apart feel like a wall that neither you or Nancy is sure how to climb.

“So…” Nancy starts, as though she’s considering something, the words tentative. “How have you been? Really, I mean.” The question hangs in the air, and you can hear the genuine curiosity in her voice, but there's something else there, too. A carefulness.

You feel the pressure to answer, but you’re not sure where to start. What part of your life do you even mention? The life you’ve built away from Hawkins? The tangled feelings about everything you left behind? Or do you just lie, let it all slide with a simple answer?

You’re not even sure if Nancy knows about what happened between you and Steve. Do they still even talk? You’ve been so out of the loop on everything in the lives of those who stayed in Hawkins. You feel as if you’re just passing through, forced to watch as they continue on without you.

“Oh you know, I've just been busy with school, but it’s been good. It’s nice to have a break at home though,” you respond politely. Trying to figure out the best way to get out of this situation without seeming rude. You glance towards the door hoping she’ll end the conversation there and let you leave. But she continues on oblivious to your growing discomfort.

“Hey, I know you haven’t been home in a while, but you should stop by mine this Friday. I’m having a small get together with a couple friends. You’re invited if you want. I will let you know Mike and his little group will be there too because if they aren’t invited he’ll give me hell.” Your lips twitch into a genuine smile at the mention of Mike and the others. It’s been so long you wonder how they have changed, if at all, in this town stuck in time. Your heart twinges at the thought that they’ve grown since you’ve last seen them, but it was your decision to leave. Your decision to not come back until now.

With a tentative smile you say, “sure I’ll see if I can make it.” You begin to turn, having long forgotten the eggs that sent you into the store in the first place, when Nancy grabs your wrist and says, “It’s good to see you again, really it is.” Her eyes are earnest as she stares at you. It’s as if she’s trying to see something in your eyes. Or piece together a puzzle in her head. You just give her another small smile and quickly exit the store, your mind even more foggy than when you left the house this morning.

Hands shaking as you exit, the bitter cold rushes against your cheeks. You weren’t ready to see anyone from your past, let alone anyone with a connection to Steve. It’s been so long. You aren’t even sure you would recognize him if he stood right in front of you. The memories with him are precious, too precious to let go of, but the hurt has frayed them over time—left you wanting to forget even as you long to keep them close to your heart.

You mull over Nancy’s invitation for this Friday. It’s only a couple nights away. Is Steve gonna be there? Are you ready to face even more people you left behind here? You’re not sure, but maybe it’s time you tried anyway.

The rest of the week passes with no further drama. You spend lots of time with your parents getting the house ready for your mom’s annual holiday party. Setting up decorations, putting up the tree, finally getting those eggs she needed.

Everything seemed to be falling into place. You eventually let the awkward interaction with Nancy fall out of your mind as you find a small comfort in the routine with your family.

Friday creeps up on you until it’s merely two hours before Nancy’s get together. You’re freaking out. Clothes thrown all over the floor, your room a disaster zone. Nancy didn’t say much about what to wear. Did you need to dress up? Was it more casual? You were overthinking every little thing because it was easier to do that than to think about who might be in attendance at said gathering. Your heart races as you think about what might happen tonight. You force yourself to take a deep breath and square your shoulders, you’ve been running from this town, this moment for long enough, you need to face the past and the mistakes that haunt you.

You step in front of your mirror, still unsure of what you're doing. The outfit you finally settled on is simple—a nice sweater, some jeans, shoes that are neither too casual nor too formal—but nothing about it feels like it fits. The sweater clings uncomfortably, the jeans stiff—like they're not even yours anymore. You feel like you're pretending to belong here, as if all these years away haven't changed anything. You stare at your reflection just for a moment, and it feels like you’ve stepped back in time—like you’re sixteen again, about to sneak over to Steve’s for a movie night—when everything seemed so much simpler. But you’re not that girl anymore. The one who fit so perfectly in this town. You try to shake the memory from your head, but it lingers, pulling at you like a thread ready to unravel everything. For a second, you wonder if you’re making a mistake, if going to the party is just you trying to force yourself to become the girl you were before you left. To pretend that time stopped for you too after you left Hawkins. But it didn’t. Time kept going. You left, and you changed. You don’t fit here anymore, not like you did before. You don’t match. Before you can second-guess yourself, you take a deep breath, reminding yourself that facing the friends who stayed in Hawkins is the only way forward. No matter how much it hurts. With one last glance at the mirror, you grab your keys and head out the door. Your car hums softly as you drive toward Nancy's place. The familiar streets of Hawkins look the same as always, but now they feel cold, unfamiliar, as if the air is heavy with something more than just the winter chill. You arrive at the Wheeler’s house, the warm glow of lights spilling out from the windows. The faint sound of music and laughter drifts through the air, a stark contrast to the tightness in your chest. You take one last moment to yourself before stepping out of your car. And as you exit, the cold bites at your skin. It feels as though the sound of your shoes echoes louder than they should against the quiet street. You try to steady your breath, your heart racing as you work up the courage to ring the doorbell. For a second, you hesitate, the weight of everything you left behind in this town bearing down on you. Then, with a final deep breath, you press the doorbell and wait, feeling your pulse thundering in your ears. Nancy opens the door with a wide smile, looking exactly the same. The same easy confidence, the same look of someone who’s always known her place in the world. She steps aside to let you in. “Hey, you made it!” she says, her voice casual and warm. You almost feel like you belong here. Almost.

She leads you into the living room, where a few people are already gathered. It’s quiet enough to still feel intimate, but lively enough that the evening doesn’t feel awkward. Christmas lights hang everywhere, casting a soft glow that feels like a gentle embrace. The scent of cinnamon and pine lingers in the air, pulling you back to childhood holidays where her and her mom would drop off their special holiday cookies to everyone in town.

A modest Christmas tree sits in the corner, its twinkling lights offering a simple, homey feel that tugs at something deep in your chest. It feels almost like nothing’s changed, even when you know so much has. Still, the warmth of the room eases some of the tension you didn’t realize you were holding.

You glance around, trying not to draw attention to yourself. Your eyes scan the room, landing on familiar faces—Jonathan, Robin, Dustin, Max, Mike, El, and Will—all of them seem the same, but also different. Not just older, but somehow… more. More aware, more grounded. Their eyes carry a maturity that wasn’t there the last time you saw them, bickering and riding their bikes to Mike’s house, so carefree. The weight of it hits you in a way you weren’t prepared for, the ache of time missed, of them growing up without you being there for it.

But then your gaze drifts to the couch, and everything else fades. Steve Harrington in all his glory. He’s sitting there, chatting with Lucas, a beer in hand, that familiar charisma still clinging to him like a second skin. For a moment, it’s as if you can pretend you’re 13 again about to watch some corny holiday movie with him at your house.

You hadn’t expected him to look the same—tall, tanned, but a little more muscular. His hair still that perfect mix of messy and styled. But it’s the new depth in his eyes that catches you off guard. There’s a quietness there now, something behind his usual charm that wasn’t there before. And it pulls at your chest, tightens it, a knot you can’t untangle. How much has he changed? How much has he been through that you missed?

You’re not sure if he’s noticed you yet. You try to steady your breath, your mind racing for something to say, something to do to break the tension that’s suddenly hanging on you like a storm cloud. But before you can move, Nancy’s voice breaks through.

“You can grab a drink from the kitchen if you want. It’s right through there,” she says with a smile, and you nod, grateful for the excuse to put some distance between you and Steve.

You head toward the kitchen, trying not to look too much like you’re avoiding anyone. As you step in, you find yourself staring at the sink, trying to gather your thoughts. You know this feeling—this knot in your stomach that tightens every time you think about him, about the things left unsaid between you two. It's been years, and yet here you are, standing in a room where everything is the same, but nothing feels familiar. It’s like walking into a scene you've seen before, only something’s different now. The sink, the countertop, even the way the light hits the corner of the room—they should be comforting, but instead, they feel distant, like you've stumbled into a version of your past that’s been subtly altered without you realizing. You can recognize the outline of what once was, but the edges are blurred, the picture incomplete.

The changes are small, almost invisible at first glance, but they pull at you, unsettling in a way you can't quite explain. It’s as though the space itself remembers, but it’s forgotten you. It’s still Hawkins, still Nancy’s house, but it’s not the one you left behind. It’s like the place has shifted without you, and no matter how much you try to fit into this scene, you know something is different—just enough for you to feel like you don't belong anymore.

You open the fridge, reaching for a bottle of water, when the sound of footsteps behind you causes you to freeze.

The smooth timbre of a voice you once knew so well, one that used to bring you so much comfort, cuts through the air. “Didn't think I'd see you tonight.”

You turn, and there he is. Steve Harrington. Right behind you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his presence. He looks at you, his usual smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, though there's something else in his eyes—something soft, almost vulnerable, like he's unsure how to read this situation either.

You swallow hard, struggling to find your voice. “Yeah, I wasn’t sure either.”

He chuckles, but there’s no humor in it, just a quiet kind of acknowledgment. “It’s good to see you. I mean, I—" He pauses, and then his expression softens, something unspoken flickering in his eyes. "I didn’t expect you to come back. After everything…”

His words hang in the air, heavy with meaning, like an unspoken invitation. An opening to finally speak the truth about what happened between you two all those years ago — when you made the decision to leave Hawkins, when you realized you no longer fit in a town that used to feel like home.

You want to say something — anything that might clear the air or break the sudden tension between you two — but it’s hard to find the right words. The only thing that feels clear is the space between you that’s been there for so long, and it seems impossible to cross.

Even when he’s standing here right in front of you it feels as though he’s miles away. Your fingers twitch with the subconscious urge to pull him into you. You look up at his soft brown eyes and open your mouth to respond, but before you can get anything out, Nancy’s voice calls from the living room. “Hey, don’t leave me hanging in there! We’re about to start a game.”

Steve glances at the door and then back at you, his expression unreadable. “I guess we better get in there,” he says quietly, taking a step back. "It’s… good to see you again."

As he moves to leave, you feel that familiar ache in your chest, the pull to say something more, to break through the walls you’ve both built. But the moment slips away before you can.

You follow him into the living room, where the sound of laughter and chatter fills the air. Your eyes find him again, across the room, and his presence feels like an open wound you can’t quite heal. As you watch, he seems so at ease here, surrounded by the people you can tell are his family. He laughs so freely, loves so loudly. It's so evident in the playful way he knocks his shoulder into Robin's.

So much has changed about him. When you left, he wasn’t this open with anyone—not even you. You would’ve never imagined he could share such easy camaraderie with Nancy or Jonathan. But here they are, smiling together like nothing in the past ever happened.

It hurts. To know that they reached him in ways you couldn’t. It makes you feel like you were never really needed. As if it was a good thing you left. As that thought crosses your mind, you suddenly grow hot and uncomfortable. Sitting here, watching them… it feels like you’re intruding on something you shouldn’t be. Something you aren’t meant to be a part of. You begin to fidget with the bracelet that sits on your wrist, twisting it with a sense of urgency. As if that small, repetitive motion could somehow quiet the storm inside your head as Dustin explains an overly complicated holiday game that his long distance girlfriend Susie told him about.

When you finally manage to pull yourself from your racing thoughts and look up, you catch Steve’s gaze—his eyes fixed on the bracelet you’re nervously twisting. It’s a brief moment, but it’s enough as he looks at you with an intensity that lights up your skin, his expression searching for something in your eyes. You try to swallow the lump in your throat, but the weight of everything unsaid—everything that’s always hung between you—feels too much.

You still remember the way he used to notice the smallest things, once saying, ‘You always seem to do that when you’re overwhelmed.’ Observing your need to fidget with something when you get anxious. The memory resurfaces now, and you watch him track the movement of the bracelet, a quiet familiarity in his gaze. You clamp down on it, halting the motion, and in that instant, his eyes snap to yours, sharp and perceptive. It’s like he sees straight through your façade, into the unspoken turmoil beneath.

You find yourself holding your breath, not knowing whether to look away or keep staring. He knows you, maybe better than anyone else, and there's a quiet ache in your chest at how easily he seems to read you even now. You feel like a stranger in this house full of people, full of laughter, but with him, it feels like time has gone backwards and you’re back to being best friends sitting on his patio complaining about the English essay you have to have done before the end of the week. You’re not sure what he sees now—whether it’s the girl he once knew, or the stranger you’ve become—but his eyes linger for just a second too long.

You want to say something. To bridge this gap that feels ever growing, but the truth is, you don’t even know what you’re feeling or what you would say. It’s been so long since you last saw him and you don’t even know if he would want to hear what you have to say. So much is different now. There’s so much you don’t know about him anymore.

The sound of laughter from Robin seems to shatter the moment, pulling Steve’s attention back to her. You just sit there, frozen, your hand still gripping the bracelet like it’s the only thing keeping you anchored. The noise of the party swells around you, but it’s distant—like you’re standing on the edge of it all, watching from the outside. Everyone is laughing, caught up in their conversations, and you feel like a shadow, unnoticed, as though you’re no longer part of this world. When you finally check back in, Dustin and Lucas have started bickering over the rules of the game.

“Man, that doesn’t even make sense! Why would I have to go back to Santa’s Workshop just because Rudolph saw me walking outside? You made these rules up just so you could win!” Lucas accuses.

“I didn’t make them up! You’re just mad because you’re losing!” Dustin shoots back, pointing an accusing finger.

“Oh yeah? Well, maybe I wouldn’t be losing if you didn’t keep changing the rules halfway through! First, you say we have to find the presents, then you say the elves are watching us, and now—” Lucas waves his hands in frustration, “—I’m supposed to be stuck in Santa’s Workshop because of some imaginary reindeer?”

“It’s not imaginary! It’s part of the game!” Dustin retorts, crossing his arms. “You just don’t get it!”

“You’re cheating, that’s what you’re doing!” Lucas yells, causing a few heads to turn.

Steve, who had been half-listening, stands up. The laughter and chatter fade into a low hum in the background as he steps toward the two arguing boys, his voice calm but firm.

“Alright dipshits, enough,” Steve says, his tone brokering no argument. “We’re all here to have fun, not start World War III over a game. This is supposed to be fun for everyone.”

Dustin and Lucas both stop mid-argument, but they glare at each other, clearly unwilling to back down. Steve sighs, looking from one to the other with a raised eyebrow.

“Lucas, you’re taking this way too seriously. It’s just a game. And Dustin,” Steve turns his gaze to the other boy, “stop making up rules just to win.”

The tension between them doesn’t dissolve immediately, but there’s a subtle shift. Lucas crosses his arms, but the fire has gone out of his argument. Dustin shrugs but doesn’t speak, his posture a little less defensive.

“Look,” Steve says, running a hand through his hair, “why don’t we just take a breather, okay? If you two can’t agree on the rules, then we’ll just play something else. It’s not that big of a deal.”

After a beat, Dustin huffs, but he nods reluctantly. “Fine,” he mutters, not entirely happy, but willing to let it go for now.

Lucas lets out a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, whatever. Let’s play something else.”

Steve gives them both a half-smile, satisfied with the result. “Good. Now hug it out so we all know you still love each other,” he says with a grin.

The boys roll their eyes but give each other an awkward hug. “You’re so lame Steve,” Dustin mumbles.

“Yeah way to make things weird Harrington,” Lucas agrees.

“Hey it’s not my fault you idiots start acting like 3 year olds when it comes to playing a game. I do what I have to do to keep the peace.”

The boys give each other one last look and walk off with the rest of the younger kids to find something else to occupy their attention. Slowly, the rest of the group begins to disperse, picking out new games or chatting in small circles. Steve turns back to the others, rolling his eyes. “If we weren’t here, they would burn this house to the ground.”

“Luckily we are here so they won’t,” Nancy says with a playful twinkle in her eye.

The two of them share a look, one that feels familiar—too familiar. It’s a shared joke, an easy camaraderie that feels like it has always existed between them. You can’t help but watch, feeling a pang in your chest. The last time you saw either of them, they weren’t even speaking to each other. The breakup had left things between them fractured, awkward, and heavy. You remember the silence between them, how they'd avoided eye contact and made excuses not to be in the same room. The tension had been so thick you could almost taste it. There were so many nights where you laid awake with Steve as he cried over the broken pieces of their relationship.

It’s unsettling to see them so comfortable. You wonder when things shifted, when they went from bitter exes to whatever this is now. It used to be like walking on broken glass around them, carefully avoiding the cracks in the conversation.

Now, though? It’s like that tension never existed. The warmth between them feels natural, even easy. They seem completely at ease with one another, like nothing ever happened. The way Steve looks at her, and the way she responds—it’s not the strained politeness you expected, but the kind of closeness you’d expect from long-time friends, maybe even something more. You watch them, trying to make sense of what’s happening. It’s strange. Stranger still, is how you didn’t even know it happened. Being away for so long, leaving these people behind—they didn’t stop living. They didn’t pause their lives waiting for you to come back. They went on, found new rhythms, new routines… and now, you’re a stranger in a space you once belonged. A space that’s now filled with laughter and inside jokes, with people who’ve moved on without you.

Steve turns back to the group, rubbing the back of his neck. “Honestly, though, it’s kind of impressive how much chaos they can create in such a short time.” He flashes a grin, and Nancy laughs, nodding in agreement.

You feel a strange twinge in your chest, as if you’re not quite sure where you fit in this new dynamic, this new version of Steve, Nancy, and everyone else . You shift in your seat, suddenly aware of how much has changed—and how much you haven’t been a part of.

Even though you made the decision to leave, you can’t help but feel hurt—like no one fought to keep you here, like no one wanted you to stay. You’ve never felt the passage of time as much as in this moment. These people sitting across from you look the same on the outside, but so much has happened since you left. So much you weren’t a part of that you don’t know how you could ever fit in their lives again.

At this realization, you feel like an imposter, trying to slip into a life that no longer belongs to you. Sitting here, watching the group interact, you feel hollow. Steve pushes a hand through his hair and laughs at something Robin says, and it’s like watching a memory play back—his familiar movements, his laughter, the ease of it all. It’s like you were once fluent in their secret language, one made of glances, gestures, and unspoken words, but now it feels like you've forgotten how to speak it, and everything feels foreign.

You wish you hadn’t come tonight. But even as the thought crosses your mind, there’s a part of you that wonders if it’s too late to turn back. You stand and head towards Nancy to say your goodbyes. Tonight has rattled your nerves and you aren’t sure you could make it through a full night of being an outsider in the lives of people you used to call friends.

“Hey Nance, I’m gonna head out. I’ve got to be up early to help my mom with preparing for the holiday thing next weekend. Thanks again for having me.” You give her a tight smile.

“Of course! So glad you could make it. Do you want me to walk you out?” She starts to stand and the rest of the group looks over curiously.

“No you don’t have to do that! I’m just parked out front. I'll be okay.” You turn with a wave to the rest of the group, actively avoiding Steve’s gaze and head out to your car. The cold has only gotten sharper since your arrival and chills you to the bone. The wind whips past your face causing tears to well up in your eyes. A sigh escapes your lips, your steps heavy as you trudge towards your car, weighed down by your thoughts.

You hear a voice call out your name in the stillness of the night. Turning, you see Steve standing at the front door, his chest rising rapidly, like he sprinted to catch you before you slipped away. He looks both relieved and hesitant, his usual confidence softened by something you can't quite place.

“Wait up! I um.. I wanted to talk to you,” he scratches at the back of his neck. A sign you know means he’s nervous. You aren’t sure if you’re ready to have a conversation with him yet, but you don’t think he’ll let you get away without getting this off his chest either.

"I—um…" he clears his throat, then looks away briefly, before meeting your eyes again. "I’m really glad you came tonight, even if… well, I know it’s probably not easy."

A tight knot forms in your chest, and all the unspoken words you’ve held inside for all these years press against your throat, desperate to spill out, but you swallow them back down. Unexpectedly, a wave of emotion crashes over you. This is the person you once bared your soul to, the one you’d talk to for hours until the sun came up, losing track of time. Now, you can’t even bring yourself to meet his eyes. The tears that the wind has coaxed threaten to fall now as you force yourself to look into his warm, honey eyes.

“Steve…” It’s one simple word, but it carries a heavy history that presses against your chest. Saying his name out loud for the first time since being back feels like your heart breaking all over again. It’s strange how right it feels falling from your lips, and yet you don’t even know him as he is now. The Steve you knew was a lanky 10-year-old who always let you win at tag. But then, in the blink of an eye that boy grew up, and in doing so, he left behind his childhood to become someone new—King Steve.

King Steve was cruel and broken. You tried to stay by his side through it all, but when Nancy broke up with him it all fell apart. At first, he leaned on you, and it seemed like you might get your Steve back. But you quickly realized that wouldn’t happen. He put up new walls, built them higher each day, and you could feel the distance between you growing wider, until one day, you woke up, and there was an ocean between you.

You still remember the first time Steve didn’t smile when he saw you, the first time his eyes didn’t light up when he saw you. You told yourself it was nothing—just a bad day—but you couldn’t shake the feeling. Slowly, you started noticing the small changes: the way his voice lost its warmth when he spoke to you, the way his laughter felt strained, as if it was something he had to force. And then one day, you realized that the person you were talking to wasn’t Steve anymore. Not the Steve who had once been a part of every second of your life. It was as if all the years you spent together didn’t matter. Like you meant nothing to him. Not even worth remembering. You thought, maybe naively, that your friendship was something stronger, something that couldn’t just fade away. But when Steve pulled back, when he let the walls rise higher and higher, it felt like the rug was pulled out from under you. The person who once knew you better than anyone else was slipping through your fingers, and you couldn’t stop it. The innate trust you had in him started to fissure and crack, breaking until there was nothing left to salvage. That abandonment, the slow and painful disintegration of something you thought would always be there, made you question everything you knew about your friendship, about yourself. It hurt so much more than you ever expected it would.

You became a shadow of yourself—once bright and eager, now a hollow version of who you used to be. You stopped going out, stopped talking to anyone. It wasn’t just that you lost Steve. You lost yourself too. You lost your spark, the fire that used to drive you, and in its place was only emptiness. You withdrew into yourself, living on autopilot. Without Steve, it felt like a part of you was missing. He wasn’t just your best friend; he was your person.

You used to be confident, full of life, and now… you weren’t sure who you were anymore. When Steve shut you out, it wasn’t just him you lost—it was that piece of yourself that only existed when you were together. You became a stranger in your own skin, unsure of who you were without him beside you. And that uncertainty, that emptiness, followed you everywhere you went. Your parents noticed, their concern growing as they saw you shrink from the world.

It took time, and a lot of self-reflection, but eventually, you realized that staying in Hawkins was only hurting you more. You weren’t healing, you were sinking deeper into the same numbness. Leaving Hawkins wasn’t a choice—it was a breaking point. It wasn’t easy, not by any means. Every part of you ached at the thought of leaving behind what little you had left of Steve, what little you had left of the past. But staying was worse. Staying meant continuing to live in the shell of a life you once had, clinging to memories that could never be relived.

So, right after graduation you packed your bags, walked away from everything you knew, and left it all behind. You needed to find yourself again, to figure out who you were on your own. No Steve, no parents, just you. You went to college as far away as you could get, and promised yourself you wouldn’t look back. Until now.

When you look at him, it feels like all the old pain surges up again—like the weight of all the years and hurt is crashing down on you. Seeing him this close, after all this time, is like opening a door to a past you never fully closed.

“Steve..” you say his name again allowing yourself this one indulgence. “I don’t know if I can do this right now.” Looking up at his face, the face that you used to think was the sun, it’s almost too much, and for a split second, the world feels impossibly small. Everything around you fades into the background as you focus on Steve, standing in front of you—so close, so real. And yet, it’s like you can’t reach him, like you’re stuck in some place between the past and the present, where nothing feels clear. He’s here, and you want to reach out, but something inside of you pulls away, reminding you of everything that happened before. “Please, just—just let me say this. I know being back here is hard. Hell, it’s hard for me, too, seeing you here. But I missed you so much. You were my best friend—the only person I could truly be myself with. I don’t want to lose the chance of having you back in my life, all because I was too much of an ass to talk to you.”

His words hit you right in the heart, and for a moment you don’t know what to say. You want to believe him. You want to believe that he means it—that this is the Steve you used to know, the one you could trust. You can feel yourself so close to forgiving him, to allowing him back into your life, but the doubt lingers—like a shadow. How can you trust that this time would be different? The memory of him pulling away, disappearing without a word, is still so fresh in your mind. It was like he vanished without a trace, and you were left standing there, wondering if you had imagined the whole thing.

“You mean so much to me. Every day that you were gone was agony. I had to live a life without you in it, and I can’t imagine doing that again. Please, let me show you that I’m not the same idiot I was in high school. I’m different now.” His voice cracks on the word "please," emotion thick in his tone.

“Steve, I want to believe you, but how can I? I haven’t seen or spoken to you since before I left for college. We’re basically strangers now. I don’t know if I can put myself through that again. It almost destroyed me the last time. I can’t go through that again.”

As you look into his eyes, you realize you're both crying. Steve takes a shaky breath, wiping his eyes, but his gaze never leaves yours. The silence stretches between you, thick with all the things left unsaid. His hand twitches at his side like he wants to reach out but is afraid of scaring you off. You can see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he’s holding onto this moment as if it’s the last chance he’ll get.

“I’m not asking for things to go back to how they were,” he says softly, his voice steadying a little. “I know that’s impossible. But I can’t keep living like this, wondering if there’s even a chance we can get back to some version of us. Maybe it won’t be the same, but I want… I want to try. To make it right.”

You take a breath, his words creating cracks in the armour around your heart. Part of you wants to give in. It’s so easy, so tempting, to fall back into the safety of something familiar. But you know the truth. You know that the old Steve, the one you could talk to for hours, the one who was your constant, is gone. In his place is this man, this version of him who’s grown and changed. You’ve grown too. And that hurts more than anything.

"I don’t know if I’m ready," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know if I can be the person you want me to be right now."

"I’m not asking you to be anything. I just want you to let me in. Let me prove that I’ve changed. That I’m not that guy who hurt you anymore." The desperation in his eyes is almost too much to bear. You can feel the tension between you, the pull of something that used to be so easy now tangled in doubts and fears.

"You don’t know what it was like," you say, voice cracking, "what it felt like when you… when you shut me out. It wasn’t just you pulling away. I felt like I lost everything. I didn’t just lose you, Steve. I lost myself. I couldn’t get out of bed for days because I thought I had done something wrong. I kept replaying every conversation we had over and over hoping to piece together what had gone wrong. It felt like I didn’t matter to you."

Steve winces at your words, his face falling. “I never wanted that. I swear, I never wanted to make you feel that way.” His voice trembles as he steps closer, hesitantly, as if testing the waters, unsure whether you'll let him. "I was such a mess back then, I didn’t know how to fix myself after Nancy left me. I thought I was broken. That no one wanted me in their life. I felt so lost for so long. I didn’t even realize I was drowning.”

You swallow hard, the knot in your chest tightening. You can see the guilt in his eyes, but you also see the vulnerability. And despite everything, despite the hurt, you want to believe him.

"I don’t know if I can trust you again," you whisper, the words stinging as they leave your lips.

Steve flinches when you say that. "I can’t promise that things will be easy. But I can promise I’ll show you every day that I’m trying. That I want to make this work." He pauses, letting the words settle.”I’ll wait until you’re ready. Just… please give me a chance to show you."

The silence lingers, and you’re left standing there, caught between the person you once knew and the person he’s become. You want so badly to reach out, to make it all better, but you’re scared. Scared of losing him again. Scared of opening yourself up to someone who might disappear again.

“I’m not asking for all of you right now," Steve says gently, as if sensing your hesitation. "Just… a chance. A chance to prove that I can be the friend you need. A chance to show you that I’m not the same person I was.”

You don’t know what to say. So, you don’t say anything at all. You just look at him, trying to make sense of everything. The past. The present. The possibility of something in between.

“I’ll… think about it. But I can’t give you an answer right now.” The words hurt to say, like a knife in your chest, cold and sharp, twisting deeper with every second that passes. But everything is so complicated now. You don’t know him anymore, don’t know if you can trust him, and it hurts so much to have to guard yourself from him—the one person you thought you would have by your side forever.

His face falls, and you see the disappointment in his eyes, but he nods slowly. “That’s fair. Just know, if you need anything, or want to talk… my number’s the same. And I work at Family Video now. You can stop in whenever.”

His words hang in the air, and there’s a rawness in his voice that makes it hard to look him in the eye. He goes to reach out, like he wants to comfort you, but then thinks better of it. Instead, he simply says, “I do miss you. So much.”

A tear escapes, running down your face. “I miss you too, Steve,” you say, your voice shaking, but you manage a watery smile before finally opening your car door to leave.

“I promise I’ll think about it. I just need some time,” you add, your hands trembling as you grip the steering wheel. He nods silently, his eyes never leaving you as you start to drive away.

"Get home safe," he calls after you, his voice small, almost lost in the wind.

Your hands are shaking as you back out of the driveway of the Wheeler home. You notice Steve is still standing there, watching you leave, his figure growing smaller in your rearview mirror until you turn off the street.

You know you needed to have that talk with Steve about everything. But that conversation has muddled your brain. Your heart is racing, and the weight of everything hangs heavy on your chest. Steve says he wants to show you he’s different, but deep down you know: if you let him back in, he’ll become your everything again. You worked so hard to figure out who you are without him and how you fit into the world, and now that you’re back home in Hawkins, all that work seems to be crumbling down.

You spend the next few days just trying to make sense of your emotions and figure out what you want. It feels like there’s a weight pressing down on your chest, like you’re fifteen again, replaying every conversation you ever had with Steve, trying to unravel what he’s really thinking.

You’re not sure if you can trust him, but he seemed so sincere. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes that pulls you in, but that only makes you more cautious. He may look like the Steve you used to know, but there’s something different about him now. An air around him, a subtle shift in his presence, like he’s grown into someone else—someone you’re not sure you recognize. And that terrifies you.

What if you’ve both changed too much? What if you’re just too different now to reconnect, to rebuild what you once had? Letting him in again feels like taking a risk, like handing him the key to your heart and hoping he doesn’t have a knife waiting to use.

After thinking it over for days and days, you decide to go over to Family Video and invite Steve to your mom’s holiday party. You spent so much time deliberating that it’s now 3 days away. As you get ready you keep having to wipe your hands on your jeans because they’re so clammy. You aren’t sure why you’re so anxious. You’re just inviting him to a party. Your mom throws it every year, and everyone in town is basically invited. Taking a deep breath, you look at yourself in the mirror and try to reassure yourself. 'This is no big deal. Just two former friends reconnecting.’ But when you glance down, your hands are still trembling. You sigh and grab your keys getting ready to face Steve.

The bell rings as you step into Family Video. Glancing around your eyes are drawn to the checkout counter and instead of seeing Steve like you expected you find Robin, looking bored out of her mind as she flips through a magazine. She glances up at you as you walk over. “Oh hey! How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you since Nancy’s party.” She gives you a knowing look, the kind of look that makes you wonder if she knows more about what happened that night than you’d like.

“Oh, um yeah… just been stuck at home helping my parents.” You twist your bracelet nervously, eyes flicking around the space as you clear your throat, trying to gather your thoughts. You still haven’t figured out how to ask her where Steve is, when he steps out from the back room. It’s as though you summoned him with a single thought.

“Hey Rob, I’m like ninety-nine percent sure Dustin used my login to extend his movie rental again. I swear that kid will be the death of me.” He says as he walks out, pulling on his vest. Once his eyes find you, his face lights up, and he breaks out into a wide smile.

“Hey! What’re you doing here?” His voice is so full of joy it sends a rush of heat to your cheeks. You glance at Robin, who stands behind the counter with a teasing glint in her eye. She looks at Steve, then back at you, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile.

“I’m just gonna do some inventory in the back. Stevie buddy, you watch the counter while I’m gone.” She turns to leave, but not without muttering under her breath, “Try not to make a complete fool of yourself this time, dingus.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but his smile stays soft and warm. He turns back to you, his gaze is so intense you feel like you’re the only person in the room.

“So, what’s up? You here to pick out a movie? I’ve got a couple I think you might like.” His voice is steady, but there’s a spark there that makes you swallow hard, unsure of how to respond.

“No, actually, I um, I wanted to invite you to my parents’ annual holiday party this Friday.” You force the words out in a rush, nervousness spilling from you. “I know it’s only three days away and you were probably going to come anyway because, you know, it’s kind of a town tradition, but I—uh, I just wanted to invite you because you were really nice the other night and I’ve been thinking things over. I do want to try to be friends again, but I’m just a little nervous, so… I figured this could be a good first step?” You finish the sentence with a nervous chuckle, hoping he didn’t notice how much you just word-vomited in his direction. Your face heats up even more as you glance up at him, half-expecting him to laugh at you. But instead, his eyes light up with amusement, and he grins.

“Thanks, Sunshine, I’d love to go.” His voice is teasing, but there’s an undeniable warmth in his tone, that same old fondness you haven’t heard in years.

Your heart skips a beat at the old nickname. A smile tugs at the corners of your lips before you can stop it. You never thought you’d hear it again—and part of you is surprised to know that Steve still remembers it, even after all this time.

“Okay, good.” You swallow, trying to steady yourself. “Well, then… I guess I’ll see you there.” You turn to leave, but then his hand is gently on your wrist, and you freeze. His touch burns through the fabric of your sleeve, a searing heat that rushes to your chest, making your breath hitch. It’s been so long since he’s touched you like this, and for a moment, it feels like nothing has changed.

Your eyes widen as you stare down at where his hand rests on your wrist, the heat from his skin making your pulse race. When he realizes what he’s done, he immediately pulls back, a flush creeping up his neck to his cheeks.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” he says quickly, his voice softening. “Thank you for giving me a chance. I know this is just a party, but… you didn’t have to come all the way here just to invite me. This means a lot to me, and I want to prove to you that you can trust me.” His eyes meet yours with such sincerity, the emotion so raw it almost takes your breath away. “So, thank you—for letting me.”

Again, it feels like you’re seeing your Steve from so many years ago, and it’s like time hasn’t passed at all. The familiar, easy banter between the two of you feels comforting. You return his smile and say, “Of course. I want to get to know the you now, in the present. The Steve who’s friends with literal children and Robin Buckley. Nothing against her, she’s just way too cool for you, Harrington.”

“Hey, I’m way cooler than Robin could ever be!” he jokes, his grin wide and teasing.

You hear Robin’s voice float in from a few aisles over, “You wish, dingus!”

A small laugh escapes you, and you notice Steve’s entire demeanor shift—his shoulders relax, his smile grows, and there's a softness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. It's as if the sound of your laugh has put him completely at ease.

“Well, if she’s cooler than me, does that make me adjacently cool?” Steve asks with a sly smile, still holding that lighthearted tone.

“Sure, Steve,” you reply with a grin, your voice a little more carefree than before. After a few more exchanges, you find yourself waving goodbye and walking out of Family Video, feeling lighter than you have in days. It’s strange, but something has shifted in the air between you two. Maybe, just maybe, things could be okay between you again.

The whole drive home, you can’t help but smile. It feels like a small but important step forward. As you count down the days until the holiday party, you think about how it could be the beginning of something new. A new chapter. And for the first time in a long while, you let yourself believe that maybe this time, things will be different.

The days fly by as you help your parents get ready for the holiday party. Your mom pulls out all the stops every year, but this time it feels like she’s taken it to a new level. The house is filled with decorations, and you half expect fireworks to go off and a dance number to break out. You keep that thought to yourself, though. God knows your mom would absolutely consider it if she knew how much her enthusiasm makes you feel like you're starring in a holiday special.

By the time Friday rolls around, you’ve lost track of the days completely. You’re so focused on getting every detail just right—helping your mom with the decorations, making sure everything is in place. She’s been running around in a tizzy since the morning, clutching a clipboard like a drill sergeant, barking out orders for the workers she hired to set everything up. You can practically see the pressure mounting on her as she insists, this party has to be perfect.

“Mom, you know you don’t have to do all of this just because I’m home this year,” you say as you watch her direct the placement of a giant ice sculpture—a snowflake, naturally.

“Yes I do, sweetie! This is the first time in four years that my baby’s back home, and I will not let it be anything less than perfect,” she says, practically vibrating with excitement. “Now, please go help your father with the garlands.”

You look over at her, still juggling a thousand things at once, and can’t help but smile. It’s hard to stay irritated at her energy; she’s just trying to make everything perfect. But you’re already thinking ahead to the evening, knowing you’ll spend the whole time playing the role of “dutiful child,” smiling politely at the family you haven’t seen in forever, while your mind lingers on the invitation you extended to Steve.

The pressure of the night ahead weighs on you, but you nod and make your way to find your dad, who’s untangling garlands and muttering about how nothing ever goes right when it’s time to decorate.

A few hours before the party is set to start, you head upstairs to get ready. The moment your foot hits the bottom step, it suddenly hits you—Steve is going to be here. Steve Harrington. Your heart stutters in your chest, and you nearly trip on the stairs, your body betraying the flurry of thoughts in your head.

You hadn’t fully processed this fact until now. Sure, you knew he was coming, but the thought was more a presence you couldn’t shake as you got ready throughout the day. Now, his arrival was just a few hours away, and the thought settled heavily in your chest. You could feel the flutter of nerves, the tightness in your throat, the pulse of doubt that made it hard to breathe. How would tonight go? You wanted to give him a chance, you really did. But the weight of the past hung on your shoulders.

Despite yourself, there was that tiny spark of hope flickering inside you—a hope that maybe, just maybe, he’d be the man you’d always thought he would be. But what if you were wrong? What if the person you once knew is gone, and all that remains of him is a memory that only you carry, a memory fading in the quiet spaces between what was and what is now?

You stand in front of your closet, staring at the array of clothes like you’re trying to decode some secret message. What do you wear when you’re trying to look casual but also somehow impress the guy who used to be your best friend? Maybe boots. Maybe a chunky sweater. You huff a small laugh at yourself. You’re definitely overthinking this. Your mind and heart race, the possibility of seeing Steve again churning up all sorts of emotions. The truth is, if tonight doesn’t go well, you’re terrified of losing him again.

After getting dressed, you step out into the backyard, hoping a few deep breaths will calm you down. The cool evening air brushes against your skin, and you listen to your parents putting finishing touches on the house, their chatter a steady hum in the background. You close your eyes letting the noise fade as you try to quiet the chaos inside your mind. Tonight will be fine. It has to be.

Soon enough, the party is in full swing. You’ve barely had time to catch your breath before the neighbors and your parents’ friends sweep you into their orbit. You’re the guest of honor, they say, and everyone wants a piece of you. There are too many familiar faces, too many questions. You try your best to smile, to be charming, to make small talk. But it’s all a blur, like you’re watching it happen to someone else.

Lost in thought, you barely notice the warm hand that lands on your shoulder, grounding you in the present.

“Hey, stranger,” Steve’s voice whispers in your ear.

You jump and spin around at the sound of his greeting. He looks… devastating. His hair, as always, is meticulously styled but looks soft, somehow. He’s wearing a pair of dark-wash jeans that hug his thighs in all the right ways. His shirt is a soft blue button-up, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. In one word—perfection. If you could, you would have paintings made of the way he looks right now: the twinkle of the lights catching in his eyes, the flush of his cheeks from the cold, and the soft scent of eggnog mixed with something distinctly Steve.

You let out a nervous laugh, trying to brush off how flustered you feel. “Geez, Steve, you really know how to sneak up on me.” You attempt to sound casual, but he’s standing so close and you can feel the heat of his arm resting on your shoulder, burning through the fabric of your sweater. And yet, a warmth settles in your chest, like the missing piece that made everything feel out of place was the absence of Steve at your side.

“Sorry to spook you, Sunshine, but you looked a little lost standing here all by yourself. It’s my duty to make sure you have the best time tonight, especially since it’s your first holiday party since you left.”

“Oh, how kind of you, Steve. My knight in shining armour,” you tease, but the words feel lighter than they should. In reality, you’re relieved Steve has decided to stay by your side tonight. You’re not sure you could’ve handled a whole evening of your parents parading you around like a show dog. You know it’s just because they’re proud of you and have missed you, but it’s exhausting. What you really want is to spend time with Steve—just the two of you, getting to know the man he’s become since you left.

Steve takes your hand, pulling you toward the kitchen with an ease that feels both nostalgic and surreal. He’s been here before, countless times as a kid, and the familiarity of it all catches you off guard. Everything about tonight, about him, feels like stepping back in time.

He grabs two glasses from the cabinet, pours a drink for each of you, and hands one over. "I don’t know about you, but after all that forced small talk, I could really use something stronger."

You laugh softly, accepting the drink, and clink your glass against his. "We both deserve this. Cheers to surviving our parents’ social events."

The quiet clink of the glasses feels almost like a reset, an unspoken acknowledgment that the weight of the night—of the past—is slowly starting to lift. You both step outside, into the backyard, where the cool night air cuts through the still heat of the house. The contrast is almost soothing.

As you settle onto the swing set your parents gave you so many Christmases ago, a sense of calm settles over you. The air feels fresher out here, more open, and the gentle creak of the chains is oddly comforting. Steve leans against them, his eyes meeting yours with that familiar warmth, but something is different now—there’s a hesitation there, a quiet understanding that feels new.

"So…" Steve begins, his voice soft as he swirls his drink, "I still remember how much you used to love these parties. You’d dress up as an elf, and your dad would play Santa. Your mom was Mrs. Claus, and you’d talk about it for weeks before the big night."

You smile, a soft, bittersweet laugh escaping you as you look up at the twinkling string lights that fill the yard. "Yeah, it was a big deal back then. My mom always goes all out, even now, like she has something to prove every year." You pause, letting the memory settle. "It’s nice to be home, even if it’s a bit of a whirlwind." You turn to face Steve, your eyes scanning his face, noting how much he’s changed, how much time has passed. But his smile, his laugh, they’re all the same. "How about you? How’ve you been?"

Steve chuckles softly, scratching the back of his neck. "You know me, same old same old. After high school, I didn’t really know what I was doing with my life. But, I made it through. Just… took some time to figure things out. I had to work out who I wanted to be and who I didn’t."

He pauses, taking a slow sip of his drink, his gaze fixed on the glass as if searching for something in it. Then, with a small, almost sad smile, he looks back at you. "But of course, some things never change. My dad still thinks I’m a failure and a disappointment. My mom, on the other hand, hardly talks to me unless it’s about dad."

You can hear the hurt in his voice, but there’s a quiet strength behind it now—like he’s made peace with something difficult.

"I had to realize," he continues, his eyes steady, "that even though they’re my parents, I get to pick who I call family." He pauses, letting the weight of his words hang in the air for a moment. "My real family… are the kids, Rob, and Nance."

Your heart aches for him. You know Steve always longed for the approval of his parents, but they never gave him the love or recognition he deserved. It’s something that’s weighed on him his whole life. You remember how hard he worked to prove himself, and yet they never showed interest. But now, at least, he’s surrounded by people who truly see him—Robin, Nancy, the kids. They get to witness the real Steve, the one who’s found his place.

Surprisingly, a sharp pang of jealousy twists in your chest. They get to see him. The real him. And you’re not even part of his world anymore. You try to ignore the ache that forms in your throat. You’re trying, aren’t you? Trying to be a part of Steve’s world again.

You feel the shift in the air. "It’s weird how much life has changed since high school huh?"

Steve lets out a small, bitter laugh. "Yeah, weird isn’t the word I’d use. But it’s true. I’m not the same guy I was back then." He hesitates, his gaze flickering up to meet yours, like he’s uncertain about what comes next. "And… I guess neither are you."

You shift uncomfortably, unsure how to respond. There’s a part of you that wishes things were simpler, that the time apart hadn’t complicated everything. But then, you both need to be honest if there's any chance of moving forward.

The conversation hangs in the air, thick with unspoken things. You take a deep breath, knowing this moment can’t be avoided anymore. "Steve," you say quietly, "we need to talk about what happened. About… everything with you and me… what happened after you and Nancy broke up.”

Steve visibly stiffens at the mention of it. His gaze drops to the ground, and you can see the tension in his shoulders. There's a long silence, and then he lets out a breath, like he's been holding it for too long. Finally, his eyes meet yours, and there's something raw in his expression—vulnerability mixed with regret.

"I figured we’d get here eventually," he says, his voice quieter than usual. He looks at his drink before continuing. “I know you probably hated me after that. And I get it—I was a mess. But I never meant for it to hurt you the way it did.”

Your heart tightens at his words. Even though you’d tried to talk things out last week, something about this moment feels like the real beginning of the conversation—the part where everything comes into focus. “It wasn’t just the breakup, Steve. It was how everything went down. The way you… distanced yourself after. It felt like you didn’t even trust me enough to tell me what happened. We were supposed to be best friends, but you just shut me out. You didn’t even try to explain anything. Why didn’t you let me in?”

He winces, and his eyes fill with guilt. It’s the first time you’ve seen this side of him in so long. The Steve you knew in high school was always wrapped in confidence, hiding behind his jokes and easy charm. But now? Now, there’s a heaviness to his shoulders, a softness to his eyes.

“I didn’t know how,” he admits, his voice low, almost fragile. “I was falling apart. So caught up in everything that happened with Nancy. There were things we both said that made me rethink everything about my relationship with her—hell, about myself, about anyone. The last thing I wanted was for you to see that side of me, the part that was so lost and confused. I pushed everyone away, including you, and I regret it everyday.”

The weight of his words presses down on you. You don’t know how to respond. It’s like you’re seeing Steve in a way you’ve never seen him before—raw, unguarded, unsure.

You nod, your throat tight, feeling the years of silence between you both finally unraveling. “I get it,” you say softly. “But it didn’t make it any easier. You just… disappeared, Steve. You went from being the person I trusted the most, to someone I couldn’t even reach. And that… that hurt. A lot.”

He looks down at his drink again, fidgeting with the glass. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, almost to himself. “I never wanted to hurt you. I was trying so hard to be what I thought my dad wanted, what Tommy and Carol wanted. I was so caught up in my head, I couldn’t see what I was doing to the people who mattered most. What I was doing to you.”

His gaze lifts, locking with yours, and the emotion in his eyes is so raw, so intense, that it’s almost too much to bear. You find it hard to keep looking at him, the weight of his words pressing down on you. He looks at you, really looks at you, as if silently searching for a way to make you understand.

You pause, trying to process his words, and something clicks in your mind. The way he’s talking, the weight of his regret—it feels like there’s something he’s not saying, something left unsaid but hanging between you like an open wound.

You think back on what he said earlier. Your voice quieter now, almost hesitant. "What did you and Nancy talk about that made you rethink things?”

Steve shifts uncomfortably, his eyes looking anywhere but at you. There’s a beat of silence before he responds, his words careful, almost guarded. “We talked about… a lot of things, I guess. Things we never really said to each other when we were together. But mostly… it was about the way I let people in, or didn't. And… you.”

The word hangs in the air, and you wonder if you heard him correctly. “Me?” you ask, the uncertainty in your voice betraying how much his admission shakes you. "What do you mean by that?”

He meets your gaze again, his eyes heavy with meaning. “You were… always more than just a friend to me. I think I just didn’t know how to see it, how to understand it, back then. Nancy saw it before I did. But I wasn’t ready to deal with it. I thought it was just me being confused, but… I guess I was confused about more than I realized.”

His confession leaves you breathless. There's a rushing in your ears, a pressure in your chest, as you try to process everything he's just said. The weight of his words settles over you. Suddenly, everything feels different—the way he’d look at you, the small gestures, the things he never said but made you feel—now, it all makes sense.

You swallow hard, trying to steady yourself, your voice barely a whisper. “So, you… you cared about me, as more than just a friend?” The question feels absurd, yet you have to ask it, just to hear him say it, to make sure you’re not imagining it.

Steve exhales sharply, his hand running through his hair, “I’ve always cared about you. More than I ever let myself admit. But after everything, I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t know how to make sense of my feelings. My girlfriend has just broken up with me after telling me our whole relationship was bullshit—said I wasn’t in love with her, but with you, my best friend.” He shakes his head, as if still processing the words. I was struggling to hold it together. I couldn’t think straight, let alone try to talk to you about it.”

The truth finally hits you, and it’s like a light switch flicking on. It’s not something either of you planned, not something either of you expected, but here it is—Steve’s feelings for you were there all along, buried beneath all the confusion, the distance, and everything you both went through. You’re left reeling, trying to figure out what this means for you now. Neither of you are the same people you were back in high school, but you can’t deny the pounding in your chest or the way your body heats when you’re close to him. It's a strange mix of emotions—part relief, part panic—and it leaves you questioning everything.

You don’t know how to feel, or even what you should feel. So many years apart have complicated things beyond recognition. You know you cared about Steve deeply when you were kids, but was it love? You aren’t even sure you know what love is.

But as you sit there in the quiet of the backyard, with the sound of the party just barely audible in the distance, your mind starts to drift.

You remember the way Steve used to look at you, like you were the only person in the room. How he used to make you laugh until your sides ached whenever you were sad, and how he always had your back, no matter what. You remember his confidence, even when it seemed like he was faking it. He was always trying to make everyone happy, and you made sure that he was happy too.

And then you think of how he is now. Not the flashy, show-off King Steve from high school, but a man who knows what he wants and what he believes in. You see the way he stands by his friends, how loyal he is to them—how protective he is of everyone he cares about. You realize that, somewhere along the way, Steve shifted from trying to meet others' expectations to defining his own way forward.

It hits you, slow and steady, as you look over at him—his cheeks flushed from the cold and the weight of his confession. Maybe this warmth you’re feeling has been there all along, quietly waiting beneath the years of silence and distance. Maybe Steve was never just your friend. Maybe, deep down, he’s always been more. He was always the one who mattered most, so perhaps it’s not so surprising that he’s become the one you love, even when you didn’t realize it. The way he’s changed has made you see him in a new light—he’s not the person he used to be, but he’s become someone better, someone you can't help but want to fall for.

You swallow, trying to clear the lump in your throat, before turning to him. “Steve,” you say softly, your voice barely a whisper in the cool night air, “I- I care about you too… as more than a friend."

His eyes widen just a fraction, and it feels like the world pauses. Then, slowly, a soft smile curves on his lips. “Yeah?” he asks, his voice quiet and unsure, like he’s testing the waters.

You nod, feeling warmth spread through your chest as you admit it out loud. “Yeah. Looking back, how could I not? You were my best friend for so long.” You offer him a shaky smile, one that says everything you can’t put into words. It’s not just the way you feel when he’s near, or how he makes you laugh without trying, but something deeper—something that’s been buried for years. When he pushed you away, when everything fell apart between you two, it hurt. But it also made you realize how much you missed him, how much you cared. The space between you now feels like it’s filled with all the lessons time taught you both, the things you learned in the years apart.

And now, here he is. Not the same person he was, but someone who’s been through struggles, someone who’s grown stronger, more sure of who he is and who he wants to be. The fact that you’re finally talking, finally being open with each other, feels like you’ve crossed some invisible line. It’s not just about moving past the past; it’s about being ready to be honest with each other, and with yourselves.

You can’t stop yourself now. The words slip out, raw and true. “You’ve changed, Steve, but so have I. I think we needed that space to grow into the people we are now. We’re better for it. We can be more open now than we ever were back then.”

He exhales a long breath, his eyes softening as he looks at you, like a weight’s been lifted. “I’m glad to hear that,” he says, his voice steady now. “Because, honestly, I’ve been hoping you’d feel the same. I’ve just… been waiting for the right moment to say it.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, and the tension between you both starts to melt away, leaving behind something new. Something neither of you expected, but both of you needed.

The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence, the weight of the past few years momentarily lifting. Above, the stars glitter against the deep indigo sky, their light soft and steady. You glance at Steve, noticing the way the faint glow from the house outlines his profile—the curve of his jaw, the softness in his eyes as he gazes upward.

“It’s weird being back. It felt like I didn’t fit in Hawkins anymore,” you admit, your voice quiet.

Steve turns to you, his expression thoughtful, his gaze drifting toward the stars before settling back on you. “Maybe it’s not about fitting back in,” he says softly. “Maybe it’s about finding a way to grow here—making a space that’s yours, where you can keep becoming whoever you’re meant to be.”

The words hang between you, and your breath catches in your throat. Steve leans forward slightly, his hand brushing against yours on the swing’s chain. His fingers are warm, and the small touch sends a jolt through you.

“I can’t believe I ever let you go,” he says softly, his voice raw and vulnerable. He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his touch lingering for a moment.

Your heart pounds as his eyes meet yours, filled with something you can’t quite name but feel all the same. “I’ve missed you too, Steve,” you whisper into the quiet night as he closes the space between you.

The kiss is soft, tentative at first, as though he’s testing the waters. Then, as you respond, it deepens, years of unspoken words and lingering emotions pouring into the moment. The world fades away—the stars, the party, the distance you’d both felt—all of it dissolves into the warmth of his lips on yours.

When you finally pull back, Steve’s forehead rests gently against yours. His eyes are still closed, and his breath comes in soft, uneven bursts. The faint sound of the party drifts through the yard, blending with the rustle of the wind in the trees.

“I’m so glad you’re home,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

“Me too,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly.

As you look at him—really look at him—you feel the years of pain and uncertainty begin to loosen their grip. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something new. Something worth holding onto.

Sitting together in the quiet, you realize that maybe all those years of silence led you here, to this moment. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what it took to realize you’ve never really let go of Steve—not fully.

[hereghostslive]

WIP Wednesday

thanks for the tag @carlos-in-glasses !!

yesterday I mentioned reapers and Tommy kinard, so here's some of it. I was going to wait until it was all finished to post but my sister is dragging me a long to lots of places today so I want have time to work on it.

trigger warning, but this does involve major character death for Tommy, although I don't want to totally bum everyone out so I will say it's temporary ... but we're definitely playing in this supernatural realm for a bit though. But this is definitely a Tommy Learns To Fight For His Own Happiness kinda fic.

--

Tommy never makes it to 2025. 

He knows this because he remembers the clock sitting at 11:59 p.m. when the semi hit his truck on New Years Eve. He supposes he could have still been alive while they tried to free him from his car, but it doesn’t really matter, does it? Tommy as he was, a person of mediocre value that held some mildly interesting presences in other people’s lives, was already gone. 

It just took his brain waves a few minutes to follow the rest of him into death. 

But they eventually made it there. 

So when he was fully dead, that was that. Life, completed. 

Was it satisfying? It had its moments, Tommy supposes. 

Did he have any regrets? Well, obviously. Who doesn’t? 

Did he have any unfinished business they should be aware of? I don’t – Wait, what do you —

“— mean by ‘they’?”

Tommy pauses, startled by the sudden sound of his own voice. He looks around but all he can see is a milky sort of darkness, rippling around him like waves in the ocean. If he looks too hard, he starts feeling dizzy, so he turns forward again, and then realizes he’s sitting on one side of a desk. On the other side is a figure of some indistinguishable shape. 

So? It asks. 

Tommy doesn’t see anything he can classify as a mouth move when the shape talks but he hears a voice all the same. 

Tommy clears his throat. “So, what?” 

Is there any unfinished business they should be aware of? 

Tommy’s hit with blue eyes and startled heartbreak, the sound of a door falling closed behind him. And him, the one who locked it and threw away the key. 

He shakes his head. “No. No unfinished business.” 

Good, the shape says. Your processing is complete. Someone will come to collect you soon. 

The shape disappears, there one second and gone the next before Tommy can even blink. 

And just like that, he’s alone. 

Dead, and alone. 

Happy fucking New Year to him. 

–

“Soon” turns out to be … well, Tommy’s not sure how long he’s been here. Somewhere between five seconds and five months sounds accurate to him. Though, does time even exist when you’re dead? 

He looks around him again, but the only thing he sees is that rippling sort of milky darkness. There’s no sound, either. And there doesn’t appear to be anyone else here, no other souls waiting to be … collected? That’s what the shape said, he thinks, however long ago it was that it said that. 

Tommy was never religious so he never really put a lot of thought into what happens after you die. If this is it, he can’t decide if people will be pleased with the answer that obviously something exists or unsatisfied with the result. Then again, nothing ever really turns out the way we want them too. 

As much as Tommy can guess, this is a waystation between the newly dead, and wherever it is you go after that. Whatever questioning he just completed must be part of the deciding factor. 

He wonders if he should be worried about the result but being dead kind of takes away all your worries. He’s not at peace, he doesn’t think, but maybe that part is what comes next. 

--

no pressure tagging: @liminalmemories21 @lemonlyman-dotcom @bonheur-cafe @thisbuildinghasfeelings @cecilyv

@alrightbuckaroo @whatsintheboxmh @firstprince-history-huh @carlos-tk

some other bucktommy folks: @leashybebes @screamlet @alchemistc @beanarie @vamphours

[gemapples]

my new year's artwork won't be done until tomorrow, but i at least wanted to make a little post celebrating it before it turns! see you in 2025 ❤️

going into a personal ramble about my year under the cut. im mostly just talking to the void but feel free to read if you want!

this year has been. wow. if i had to put the definition of an emotional rollercoaster it would be this year for me

so much happened, yet so much DIDN'T happen simultaneously?? i don't really know how to think tbh 😭 i think above all i'm relieved it's over and i get to (hopefully) have a fresh start again

i got a lot accomplished this year. i graduated and got a degree which is a huge thing!!! i went for and accomplished lot of difficult things i had to do that i wouldn't even think about considering last year, and i feel my mental health has been beyond improved from it. last year i took note of how i consistently put myself in a box to make others happy, and i noticed i significantly improved in regards to how i see myself and made sure to put my own health first. there's still MUCH more to work on, god, and i've still been struggling with it, but i've been taking steps and that's all that matters to me. i want to continue taking better care of myself next year

on the downside though.. a bunch of personal stuff i had no control over happened in july and to put it in a way, i was scared for my life. it's settled now, and even got better, but i haven't been that terrified in a very long time. it was so difficult for me to cope with and i'm very grateful it's not something to worry about anymore, but i would be lying if i said i wasn't scared for what horrific event next year will bring for me. i noticed the past few years, something awful happened that made me seriously question, doubt or even straight up hating myself :') and i'm not looking forward to experiencing that again next year in the slightest. but at least, i'll try to get better at it

i've felt pretty disappointed and unhappy with my art this year as well, for whatever reason. it was mentioned to me that it could just be burnout (i HAVE been drawing more consistently than i ever have throughout this year, especially due to college, which makes sense) but whatever i try to do experimental-wise, i just can't be happy with it. i think the major reason is the way i've been shading, because i might be instinctively holding myself back. i don't want my art to be too eyestrainy or give people headaches by looking at it obviously, but i feel like as a result i've been making my art feel too "muddy" for my liking. so! i decided one of my new years resolutions will be to be way more spontaneous with the way i use colors and try not to put that box on myself. one thing i can say is, i tried a Lot of new things with art this year, including working on complex backgrounds, putting in way more effort into pieces enough to be full illustrations, etc etc. and i hope to break a ton more boundaries next year too. regardless, i can't thank you enough for your continued support. it seriously means a ton to me. i know i repeat myself a lot but i always mean it

hopefully 2025 will bring us more kirby too! we haven't had a full year without a new kirby game since 2021, and even then forgotten land got revealed! so i get the feeling something HUGE is coming. also looking forward to pokemon legends z-a too (im insane over it). and the hypothetical manager magolor plush. <- copium.

thanks for reading, and i hope 2025 is a fun, enjoyable year. hopefully it'll be nice to us

~ mac ❤️

[everythingseasoning]

love, forever?

Vampire! Suguru x reader

impulsively started writing vampire! Suguru x reader, with a blooming rivalry between Satoru & reader for Suguru’s attention. oh, and there’s new vampire lore, and angst: Suguru can’t bear to hurt reader when his human blood cravings flare up, so he breaks up with reader. we start off the story with heartbroken reader, and the emotionally oblivious, playful, talented and sexy vampire! Satoru going after reader (for reasons you’ll learn about in chapter 1). this story kinda has parallels to Geto’s canon angst as well. eventual smut.

Ch. 01 Teaser

NOTE: if you saw the teaser already, please feel free to read the following again, as I’ve edited it a lot and added in more juicy dialogue & scenes ;)

The drink is nothing short of young and dumb, the blend of tooth-rottingly sweet flavors hitting your taste buds as you stare holes into Suguru’s back. You can see the sculpture of his muscles and beautiful bones through his tight tee, your ex’s sculpted body turned away from you. He’s speaking to a girl you had heard about— the life of all parties, pretty, smart, and fun. You take another swig from the plastic blue cup, hoping the heaviness in your heart would be soon forgotten. Yogurt, sherbert, coca cola, and cheap alcohol would be your poison of the night, you think, swallowing down the concoction as tears prick your eyes.

“Another one of those people who drinks their troubles away?”

The voice amidst the bass and booming music causes you to turn, your eyes meeting striking blue ones. Snowy hair rests soft and thick on his head, your heart skipping a beat to see such a beautiful stranger.

If you were being honest, you weren’t in the mood to talk to somebody else— not when your heart was still tied right onto Suguru’s. You love Suguru, you really do. The recent past haunts your every waking moment. And even in your dreams, he’s there, smiling, chuckling as you braid his hair, reading a nonfiction book while your fingers thread his silky locks; He’s watching you with a fond smile as you run ahead of him in the campus garden, jumping amongst the flowers; Holding you as the two of you kiss— his soft, supple lips meeting yours in that familiar dance and tangle. In your dreams he’s still yours. You both made up. In your dreams, things are warm and right again.

When you wake up in an empty bed, with an aching heart, it just feels cruel. The light slipped away again. You thought you had it. You had your dream come true only to realize it was just that— a fucking dream. There’s no respite from the memory of all his adoration, thoughtful gestures, all the times you’d stare mesmerized as he sat focused, his eyebrows pinched as he worked… The way he felt when you were wrapped in his embrace— being fucking cared for— you missed him bad, with every fiber of your being.

He’s still all you can think about. You’re at this damned college party because, even a month after he’d broken up with you, all you wanted was to be close to him, to see him. It’s pathetic. Knowing he’d be here, knowing you’d be tearing your heart open again, the wound freshly cut back open— and still, you came here. How many times had you stalked his social media despite having been removed from his following?

“Cat got your tongue?” The beautiful stranger breaks you out of your thoughts, forcing a reply.

“No—” you start to say, raising your voice. It’s just barely audible over the clamor of the party.

“Really?” He butts in, raising an eyebrow. “‘Cause it seems like there’s some hard evidence against your statement.” His small smile is as unconventional as it is disarming.

“And you are?”

“Satoru Gojo, if you haven’t heard about me already. I go to a different university. A better one.”

You roll your eyes, scoffing. “And why would I know of you?”

The stranger, Satoru, just tilts his head ever so slightly, his smile unwavering as he replies, “Your head is under a rock, is what I heard you say.”

Confusion flits across your face before your mouth falls open slightly, a feigned look of offense stretched on your features. You feel like ignoring this pesky stranger. You glance away for a second, in search of Suguru’s back— the spot he’d been standing in holds a different person, somebody you don’t know, somebody you’re not at all interested in. You frown, scanning the crowd.

The stranger, Satoru, waves a hand in front of your face. You look up at him, annoyed.

“Why are you talking to me?”

“What? Need a reason to talk to a pretty girl?”

“That’s an overused line,” You shout back, the music so loud you can barely hear yourself. Your attention shifts away from the snowy haired man, back to the sea of party goers. You desperately search the throng of buzzing chaos. No sign of Suguru. Just dancing, mingling, kissing, drinking, the typical activities going on under the strobe lights. Fuck.

Suguru, where did you go? Please… Your heart feels like it’s a rock in your stomach. Please don’t tell me you’re fucking her right now in somebody’s bedroom. It’s not my business— but I can’t stand the thought of it—

Satoru chuckles, and you look back at him, unable to hide your expression of pain. You’re about to excuse yourself to find a bathroom to cry in, when he speaks again.

“You’re right. How should I flirt, hm? Wanna coach me? It’ll lift your blues, too,” His smirk would’ve had you folding had you not met Suguru. But you did cross paths with the raven-haired man— collided and intertwined, more like— and now nobody compares to him. Nobody would ever be him.

“Not really. Excuse me,” you begin to say, before turning slightly, about to slip away—

“Suguru is my best friend,” the stranger says.

You freeze, whipping around now to face Satoru.

“He told me about you— first time he ever told me about anyone, actually. Suguru said you were somebody he actually loved.” Satoru’s cheeky expression has been wiped off, replaced with one of aloof nonchalance and detachment. It’s almost eerie, but your attention is elsewhere.

You’re at a loss for words, eyes caught on Satoru’s, hanging onto everything he says like maybe, just maybe, it means that Suguru wants you back.

“He’s had his fair share of flings and hookups, after all.” Satoru teases, smirking again, bending down to your level.

“I thought I was losing my best friend to a weakling.” His breath is surprisingly chilly against your face. “Turns out you were never the one. Sucks that you couldn’t make him stay.” You feel everything shatter. “Sucks for you, I mean,” Satoru finishes. He leaves out the part where he gloats about being the one Suguru has always admired, and stuck with.

You’re shocked, mouth hanging open. Confusion, hurt, anger, betrayal— all the feelings clash like giant waves crashing against one another inside your heart.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Satoru grins, shrugging. “It means what it means. But I’m curious,” he says, leaning closer, his pearly teeth glinting red under the strobe lights, “What is it about you that had Suguru caught up on ya?” His lips graze your cheek, his voice in your ear. “I don’t get it.”

You slap him before you can realize what you’re doing. Violence is not the answer, but this time, it sure as hell felt like it. Your fingers sting, your panicked thoughts a running train. Did I just? Oh my god! I didn’t— I fucking did—

“I— I’m sorry—” you stammer quickly, eyes wide in shock at your own actions. Satoru is eerily emotionless, staring down at you with those startling ocean eyes. You shiver despite the heat.

“Hm.”

It’s all he says. You open your mouth to speak again, blinking—

And he’s gone.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

A swig of the liquor causes the liquid to slosh in the green bottle.

“Thought you liked shy girls, Suguru?” Satoru pokes, a red handprint on his cheek. He’s kicked back on the couch outside the bathroom, grimacing when the alcohol hits his tongue, spitting it out back into the bottle.

“I do,” Suguru replies calmly, a streak of bare skin showing amidst the shaving cream on his face. He runs the razor back down, taking off more of the fluffy white foam.

“Yeesh. Can’t believe we used to drink this shit,” Satoru sticks his tongue on dramatically, tossing the full glass of alcohol across the room. It lands right in the trash bin with a clang. “That’s where it belongs,” he huffs.

“So?” Satoru prompts, kicking his feet up. “You realize she doesn’t fit your ideal type, right? Why’d you get with her for a whole year, man?”

“She was shy at first,” Suguru says softly, a glint of something like pain in his eyes. He catches Satoru’s gaze on him in the mirror and the glint disappears. Satoru doesn’t notice, now peeling open a candy from its foil wrapper. “And I told you already, Satoru,” Suguru continues, sparing his friend an exasperated glance. “I love— loved her.” A blip. A mistake so quickly covered that if it was anyone but Satoru, they’d miss.

Blue eyes pierce Suguru.

“But it wasn’t going to work out. Love isn’t meant for us. You and I… We’re not meant to be with humans,” Suguru murmurs, looking at his face in the mirror. It was myth that vampires didn’t have reflections. They did. Something the myths forgot though— vampires always have some sort of change written in their eyes. There will be some sort of difference from their human form, hidden in their eyes, after they turn. Suguru touches his eyebags, dark and heavy. That’s not what changed. No. His warm, earthy brown eyes had turned purple the night Satoru turned him. Rich amethyst irises gaze back at Suguru. He wishes he didn’t recognize them. Now he’s stuck dealing with people commenting on his “cool contacts,” for the rest of eternity. Suguru exhales deeply, softly, his still, dead heart aching.

“Being undead with a vital thirst for human blood will do that,” Satoru ho-hums, blissfully unaware of the insensitive nature of his obliviousness.

Suguru is silent, continuing to shave, but the blade knicks his skin. He curses quietly.

“So,” Satoru speaks with the chocolate melting on his tongue, grateful that at least his cravings and delight in sweets didn’t change when they turned, “You don’t trust yourself to be around her without hurting her. But you were with her for a year, doing well for a year. What do you say changed?”

Suguru dabs at the blood dripping down his otherwise unmarked face. It would heal, his skin would be perfectly smooth again in a day, not a trace of his mistake, or scar, would remain. All wounds heal within 24 hours for vampires.

“My urges got insatiable. Blood bags weren’t enough,” Suguru says curtly. Despite the battle of breaking up with you being long over, Suguru’s mind is a war zone. I couldn’t even look at her… without… needing to taste her blood. His fists clench on the marble sink. It got bad. I almost hurt her.

Satoru stares at his best friend, knowing that in this silence, his mind is a maelstrom. Suguru sees Satoru’s unflinching gaze, but remains quiet. He knows his friend won’t understand.

Satoru presses on anyway, nodding like he’s bored.

“Right. You can’t suppress your urges right now. That happened to me too. The second year is the hardest.” Satoru was the one who turned Suguru, after all. “It helps when you just feed on multiple pretty girls a night and compel them all to forget. You could’ve had both, you know. Her and human blood from others. You’re so mopey now.” Satoru’s callous remark piques Suguru’s irritation, a flame of anger burning in the raven-haired man’s chest.

“I won’t do that and be in a relationship.”

“I saw you feeding on that random chick an hour ago. But you’re still grumpy. You move around like you’re actually dead, Suguru. You torture yourself by still caring about your ex. She’s nothing special. I don’t get it.” Ah. The truth comes out.

Suguru’s eyebrows knit, his mouth pressed into a firm line as something dark flickers in his eyes.

“Satoru. First off, I only feed when they consent first. We both do that, and compel them to forget. And my ex, she has a name, and she’s worth something even if you can’t see it. Just shut up.”

“And what worth do you see in her?”

Suguru is silent for a moment. How could he convey the light and warmth that you were in his life? He’d died twice, once literally, once figuratively, and yet— you brought him back. “…She’s… good.”

“And?”

Suguru’s temper flares. “You just don’t get it, so will you just leave it?” He snarls, fangs involuntarily popping out.

“You’re such a grouch nowadays,” Satoru huffs, before popping another chocolate into his mouth. He gets up, stretching.

“Well. I need to feed again.”

“Be safe about it. And I’m not referring to your safety,” Suguru says sternly, his whole head turned to look at Satoru now, some white foam still on the man’s face.

“Yeah, yeah, mom, I got it.” With that, Satoru pulls his black coat over his lean, muscled body, a wolfish grin on his face as he slips out the apartment door.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You’re intoxicated. It’s two AM and you’re stumbling around campus like a fucking idiot.

Well how about that? Satoru spies you from across the quad, your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. His veins buzz with electricity, and he knows: he is still very much alive despite the coldness to his skin, the lack of a heartbeat in his chest. What else could you call the rush, the thrill he’s got right now, except living? His urge to feed has grown exponentially.

He slips through the shadows.

You nearly jump when a tall, dark figure appears before you, looming over you.

Snowy hair shines in the lamplight, blue eyes flashing like glaciers, staring right at you. You swear they flash red for a second.

“You again?” You slur your words. You aren’t scared. He’s Suguru’s best friend, which means he by extension must be a good guy. Almost as if he hears your thoughts, Satoru grins. His teeth are brilliant, his canines shining ivory and glistening like expensive accessory jewels.

If Satoru was being honest, this was perfect. The golden chance to get Suguru to forget about you and move on, so his best friend could finally look and be alive again, the two of them happily slaying the vampires that hurt humans— this chance just seems to have fallen into Satoru’s hands like a magic star that grants his wish.

“Hey,” he nearly purrs, slinking around you as you take a step forward— stumbling a bit— cold fingers grip you firmly, holding you upright.

“You’re fucking making me freeze even more!” You retort, snapping at him as you yank your warm arm away from his cool grasp. You were more than tipsy, but you recalled his rudeness from earlier.

“Just trying to help. You sure aren’t shy, huh?” Satoru remarks.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” You spit out, the question giving you both Deja vu.

“It means what it means,” Satoru grins. Deja-fucking-vu. You were getting fed up now, huffing and mumbling under your alcohol-tinged breath an insult that Satoru’s super hearing picks up on. He stifles a laugh.

“Wait,” Satoru calls out. You don’t turn around or slow your pace. He strides up to you in two quick, lengthy steps. He bends, entering your vision, his teeth sharp and protruding from his close lipped smile. Were they always that long?

“I’m great at reading people. And as much as you want to deny it, your heart is beating faster around me.” He suppresses his urge to poke your ribcage, directly over the beating muscle.

“Shut up,” you growl.

“You could make me, you know.”

He keeps up with your sluggish pace as you try to make your way back to the dorms, struggling to reply.

“There you go again with that cliche flirting,” you snort.

“And here I am again, asking if you’re offering lessons. Though the better question would be if you’re even qualified to give them,” Satoru grins.

“What do you want from me? Don’t you think it’s weird to be flirting with your best friend’s ex?”

You think this will shut him up. That, or he’ll have a lame excuse. And for the first time in this second conversation you’re having with him, his answer changes.

“If I’m being honest,” he speaks in a rich, velvety, low voice, and you almost feel entranced, your feed stopping, your gaze resting on Satoru. “I’m doing this for him. And about what I want?”

You sway in the chilly night breeze, barely registering anything but the sound of his voice.

“I want to know if you’d let me bite you.”

Edited version found here! (More dialogue and scenes :)

comment to be on the tag list!

Do not plagiarize my writing in any way. Do not feed my writing to ai.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Not So Perfect Life

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~4k

Warnings: angst, fearing for your life, slight torture, fluff at the end

Summary: According to you, Sam lives a mundane life with his brother who is a very skilled mechanic. It doesn’t take long for his secrets to bubble to the top, threatening everything and everyone he loves.

Square Filled: zip ties for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: i pulled inspiration from a tiktok video! apparently, it's from a turkish tv series, but i am unsure of the name of it.

x

The empty lot next to your apartment has finally been bought, and one of your favorite stores has been built in its place. You make the most of your money by buying Barbie and Bratz dolls and transforming them into animated characters. You’ve taken an old Barbie doll and made her into Maleficent. Someone wanted you to make a doll version of themselves, so you did that with a Bratz doll. To make extra money, you work at a diner for two nights a week so that you can focus on your doll-making career most of the time.

Sam was supposed to meet you twenty minutes ago, but he’s still not here. You check the time on your phone and sigh silently before walking over to the doll section of the store. While you love transforming an already-made Barbie doll, you do enjoy starting from scratch. The store has different kinds of blank dolls that have nothing on them that you can do anything with.

You grab three of them and put them into your cart.

“I’m here!” You turn and see Sam jogging over to you. “I’m sorry I’m late. I was helping my brother.”

There is a splotch of blood on his cheek, and you frown when you see it.

“You have blood on your cheek.”

“Oh.” He quickly wipes it away. “Shave nick. I’m sorry I’m late.”

“I’m just glad you’re here now,” you smile. You walk to the fabric section and browse the different colors. “So, what did Dean need?”

“What?”

You look at him. “You said Dean needed help. With what?”

Sam opens and closes his mouth like a fish, suddenly nervous. “Oh, you know… His job.”

“You don’t know how to work on cars.”

“I know the basics.”

“So, you’re telling me your brother, the very skilled mechanic, needed help on a car he was working on so he asked you?” He nods. “Okay.”

Sam hates lying to you but what else is he going to tell you? You get everything you need to create at least a dozen more dolls and check out at the register.

“So, I was thinking while I make my dolls, we can have a movie night. What do you say? Care to spend the night?” When Sam doesn’t answer, you look at him to see him on his phone. “Sam?”

“Right, sorry, Y/N. You know I’d love to, but Dean needs me right now.”

“With another car?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I know I said I’d spend all day with you, but I have to go. I’ll call you later.”

He kisses you quickly before practically sprinting off. You trust Sam with your life but there’s something about him lately that has your red flag radar going off. He’s lying about something, but you don’t know what.

Sam promised to call but he never did. In fact, you go days without hearing from him. It’s Friday and you just got back from your diner job early so you can get a head start on your dolls. You put on The Nightmare Before Christmas before starting your Sally doll. Weaving the hair in is the most time-consuming of it all, so that’s what you start with.

Your phone rings and you smile when you see Sam’s name and picture pop up. He has his own life and you don’t ever want to be clingy and annoying, so you give him his space. You love him so much so those few days with no contact are like water under the bridge.

“Hey, baby,” you answer.

“Hey, are you busy this weekend?”

“I’m just making my dolls. Why?”

“I have some free time. Dean and I are heading to California for the weekend. Want to come with us? He has some business there, and I was thinking we could go to the beach. Just me and you, sunshine, seafood, and maybe a few kisses.”

“Wow, you know how to butter a girl up. When do you leave?”

“I can pick you up in a few hours.”

“I’ll pack. I’m so excited. I’ll see you soon.”

Forget Sally. You turn off the movie and run to your room to get packed. A few hours later, Sam knocks on your door while Dean waits in the car. You open the door and jump into Sam’s arms with a huge smile on your face.

“This is going to be a fun weekend,” you grin.

He kisses you a few seconds longer than usual. “Come on.”

He grabs your bags while you get into the backseat of the car, and you smile at Dean.

“Thank you for letting me come with you guys.”

“The more the merrier,” Dean says.

Sam gets into the back seat with you, and he pulls you close as Dean drives away. Dena turns the music up just to drown you two out so he doesn’t have to hear how gushy you two are going to be.

“So, I was thinking we could go at night when the sun is going down, and we’ll walk the entire pier and watch the sunset. I’ve been to this area before, and I know this seafood joint you’d love.”

“I already love it. Do you want to know what I’ve never done but want to try?”

“What is it?”

You lean in closer to whisper in his ear. Not that Dean can hear you anyway. “I’ve never had sex on a beach before.”

Sam laughs and runs his hand up and down your back. “I have. Sand gets everywhere, but you’re worth it.”

He slides his hand in your hair and kisses you, keeping it short and sweet for his brother. Since it’s night by the time you get to the hotel, you decide to have a chill night in with the brothers before planning stuff for tomorrow. They don’t have a lot of money which is why you and Sam don’t have your own room, but you’re happy regardless.

“Can we go to the beach today?” you ask over breakfast.

Sam and Dean look at each other and have some sort of secret conversation with their eyes. Dean waves as he sips his coffee.

“Go. You two have fun. I have some business to do. I’ll call you later.”

“Yay!”

You pack for an eventful day at the beach, having everything you need and more in your tote bag. However, you don’t get to use most of it because your fun-filled day at the beach isn’t anything like you expect it to be. At first, you took some time to tan and soak in the rays before you wanted to go swimming.

“Sam, let’s go swimming.”

“Give me one second.” He’s on the phone. “It’s Dean.”

You shrug and walk to the shore, shivering when the cold water washes over your feet. If you get it over with, you’re entire body will get used to the temperature instead of one part at a time. You run the rest of the way in and squeal when the chill seeps into your bones.

“Come on, Sam!”

Sam nods but doesn’t say anything in response. He continues to talk to his brother over the phone, and you look away with a sigh. It only takes one time before Sam gets caught in the current, and he spends most of his time with his nose in his phone, claiming he’s helping his brother with something.

Never have you ever felt like you were second best in this relationship, but there’s a first time for everything…

After a few hours of swimming by yourself, you get fed up. You walk over to Sam who just put his phone away, but the smile is lost on his face.

“I want to leave, Sam.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m good now. Dean can manage without me.”

“That’s good, but I’m done for today. Take me back.”

Sam sighs and packs up anyway, hating the way he makes you feel. He can see the disappointment in your eyes, and he hates that he put it there. If only you knew what he was really up to, you might be a bit more understanding. Still, he’d rather this than suck you into his toxic life.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry,” Sam says once you walk into the hotel room.

“I’m not mad, Sam, I just thought this was a vacation. If you need to work with Dean, I have no problem with that. I would have let you two come on your own.”

“I know, and it is a vacation.”

“Dean’s a mechanic. What kind of business does he have out here that he needs your help with?”

“It’s complicated.” You sigh and look away from him, but he cups your jaw and brings your gaze back to him. “We took care of everything today. Tomorrow, I am all yours. We can go to the beach again if you want, or we can go shopping or whatever you’re feeling up for. Okay?”

“Can we watch the sunrise on the pier?”

“Yes we can, and maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll show you how messy beach sex is.”

You can’t stay upset at him for too long. “Okay, deal.”

Sam leans down and kisses you, and you wrap your arms around his neck. Dean gets home late but you’re already fast asleep in your bed. You don’t know what wakes you up, but you open your eyes to see Sam and Dean dressed and standing by the table. They’re whispering and trying to be quiet, but you can hear every word they’re saying. Sam is keeping so many secrets from you, so you don’t move a muscle to make it look like you’re still sleeping.

“Are you sure the nest is out there?”

“Yes. I talked to the locals and that’s the only place they all singled out.”

“Okay. I have to be back before the sunrise. I promised Y/N we’d watch it at the beach.”

“I can’t promise that I’ll get you back before then, but we need to go now before someone else dies.”

Sam looks back at you before leaving with his brother. Okay, that’s not what a mechanic does. Are they worried someone is going to die? You have to find out what they’re up to. You quickly get changed and follow the brothers down to the parking garage where the Impala is, and you pull out your phone to call an Uber.

It takes five minutes for it to get to you but that’s not enough time for Sam and Dean to get far.

“I’ll pay you extra if you follow a Chevy Impala.”

You tell the driver where to go, and you’re able to catch up to them on the freeway. They head north, far more than you thought they would go. They end up in the woods, but the Uber driver is only willing to go so far.

You hand him a handful of twenties “Thank you for doing this.”

You get out and finish the rest of the trek on foot. You’re not sure where Sam and Dean went, but there’s only one thing in these parts. While on the drive, you looked up the history of the woods, and according to local legend, there is a cabin in the woods responsible for a bunch of paranormal activity. If Sam’s big secret is that he’s a ghost hunter, then you really overestimated him.

You push past the thick trees and bushes until you come to a clearing. A cabin with a lot of windows stands big and tall and the lights are on inside, allowing you to see everything inside. The cabin is a bit run down as it tends to do with age, but there are broken windows and doors from either vandalism or old age.

The Impala is off to the right so you know Sam and Dean are somewhere around here. You walk closer to the cabin and gasp when you see a man fly across the room. Sam walks in with a thick blade in his hands, and he rushes at the man like he’s pissed at him. He tackles the man to the ground but the man kicks your boyfriend off him easily. Sam stands and punches the man as hard as he can twice before bringing the blade down on him.

You’re shocked and horrified to see someone you love so much brutally murder another man without cause. Blood, bruises, and cuts adorn Sam’s face and arms, and Dean isn’t any better. He walks in holding the same kind of blade with just as many cuts on him.

“One of them smoked out before I could get to him,” Dean says.

“Great,” Sam sighs. He cracks his neck and just so happens to look out the broken door and right into your horrified eyes. “Shit.”

You turn and flee from the scene as fast as you can, ignoring the whips and stings from branches smacking you in the face. You reach the road and panic when you don’t see a single car, and you take out your phone to see if you can get a signal.

“Come on,” you freak.

Light shines in the distance, and you start running toward the headlights. The car doesn’t slow down when they see you, and they don’t care if you’re in need of their help. They zoom past you, and you yell out in frustration in fear. You look back to see if Sam or Dean are following you, but there is no one there.

Another set of headlights shines in the distance, and you wave your arms frantically. They slow down at your signs of distress, and you hop into the front seat without seeing who is behind the wheel.

“Thank you so much. Can you--”

You scream when you see Sam sitting next to you.

“Please, just let me explain.”

“Please don’t hurt me,” you cry.

“I won’t hurt you, Y/N. Just let me explain.”

His words aren’t connecting with you because all you can see is him killing that poor man. You try the door handle but he's locked it and engaged the child locks, and that causes you to cry more. Sam’s heart breaks at seeing you so terrified of him but this is necessary. He can’t bring you back to town and have you go to the authorities so he has no other choice but to take you back to the cabin where his brother is.

He parks outside of it and gets out, but you refuse to follow. Sam walks to the other side of the car and opens the passenger door.

“Come on, Y/N. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Sam reaches into the car and grabs your arm, and that’s when all hell breaks loose.

“No, please don’t! Please!” you cry. You fight to get away but Sam’s grip is tight. This is breaking his heart but it’s necessary. “Let me go! I won’t tell anyone. Please!”

“Y/N, would you stop fighting me?”

You fall to your knees as if that will prevent you from going inside the cabin, but Sam just picks you up instead. He brings you inside and sets you down, and you jump away from him and fall onto the dirty couch. Dean walks into the room when he hears you sob, and he sighs.

Sam walks off to the side with his brother while keeping you in his line of vision. He can’t have you running away.

“She doesn’t know what we do. She thinks you’re a mechanic.”

“Now is as good a time as any to tell her, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, if she’ll let me.” Sam walks over to you like you’re a wounded animal, and he sits on the coffee table. “Y/N, please…” He reaches out to touch you but you jerk away from him in fear. You jump to the other side of the couch and curl up into a ball. “I’m not a murderer, Y/N.”

You look around the cabin and see the bodies of the men they came here to kill.

“I’m on it,” Dean says.

“He’s not a mechanic, is he?” you mutter.

“No, he isn’t. Not professionally, at least. If you’d let me explain--”

“Please let me go, Sam,” you beg and cry. “I have a family and a little sister and parents who love me. Please let me go.”

“I’m not going to hurt you. Baby, you need to calm down.”

“Don’t call me that!” you yell.

Sam knows he’s not going to get anywhere if you’re like this so he decides to let you cool off and help Dean with the bodies. He stays within sight the entire time to make sure you don’t go anywhere, and it’s not like you can fight him off. He’s twice your size and three times stronger than you. Not to mention he has a brother who is similar in strength and size. You wouldn’t get far and they know it.

By the time the brothers are done, you’re already asleep on the couch. Sam sighs when he sees you. This is so not how he wanted to tell you about the supernatural. He wanted to take you on a date, probably in the Bunker, and ease you into it. Now you’re scared half to death and refuse to listen to him.

He brought in a blanket to take care of the last body not knowing that Dean had already done it. Instead, he drapes it over your body gently. You don’t stir and he should leave you alone. He should turn away and wait for you to wake up, but he can’t help himself. He runs the back of his fingers down your cheek. The slight movement is enough to wake you up, and you jerk away from him in fear.

“Dean is getting food and water for you.” You don’t answer him. Sam takes the food when Dean comes back, and he sets it in front of you. Your stomach is growling but you don’t move an inch. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out. Look, those men you saw were demons. They were monsters. I don’t hurt innocent people.”

“Like I’m going to believe a word you say,” you glare.

Sam sighs and rubs his hands together. “I love you, Y/N.”

Again, you don’t answer. The brothers can’t bring you back to town so they set up shop in the living room. They’re light sleepers so if you’re going to do something, you have to do it without making a single noise. An hour after Sam and Dean have fallen asleep, you decide to make your move.

Dean is sleeping on the other smaller couch but Sam is sleeping on the floor right next to your spot. You hook your legs on the back of the couch and slip off the back as quietly as you can. You tiptoe to the front door and open it, wincing when it creaks. You look back but Sam and Dean don’t move.

The first steps out of the cabin are slow and careful until you get to the treeline, and then you make a beeline for the road. You look back to see if they’re following you which they’re not. You turn back only to run right into a man’s chest. He reaches out to steady you so that you don’t fall on your ass.

“I wanted a Winchester,” the man’s eyes turn pitch black, “but you’ll do nicely.”

In the next second, you’re knocked unconscious. When you come to, the first thing you notice is the zip ties on your wrists. You’re tied to a chair that’s bolted to the concrete ground. Even if you can escape, you’re too weak to move. The man who took you, the one with black eyes, walks into the room and over to you.

“Please let me go,” you whisper.

“Good, you’re awake. I love hearing humans scream. Music to my ears.”

“Please don’t. I won’t tell anyone. Just let me go,” you beg.

The man doesn’t listen and grabs the back of your chair. He shoves his hand into your body and touches your soul, and you tip your head back and scream as loud as you can. He only takes three vials of your soul, but that’s enough to knock you out again. Your entire body aches when you wake up again, and there are two men in the room instead of one.

“I need more of her soul.”

“Stop being so fucking greedy. You’re using it too fast. Lucifer won’t like that. Plus, she’s Sam Winchester’s girlfriend. He won’t be too pleased if she dies too soon.” Both men walk over to another person that’s tied up. How have you not noticed him before? “This one is empty. Toss it and grab another one.”

The second man has no choice but to listen. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let the darkness overcome you for a third time.

“Hey, Y/N, open your eyes. Come on, wake up.”

You moan tiredly and open your eyes to see Sam kneeling in front of you.

“Sam,” you whisper, barely audible.

“I’m right here, baby. I’m going to get you out of here.”

 He takes out a knife to use on your zip ties, but you see someone enter the room… and it isn’t Dean.

“Sam, behind you.”

He stands and turns to face the man who took you.

“Looks like I scored the jackpot. I knew you’d come for her,” the man smirks.

“Yeah, you’re right. I did come for her, but it’s not going you be you who leaves this place alive.”

A fight breaks out between the man and Sam. He has the same kind of blade as he did in the cabin, and that’s apparently a weapon that hurts the man. Sam slices the man’s arm and punches him in the face. Without even touching him, the man uses some kind of power to shove Sam into the wall. Sam tries to move but he can’t, and the man laughs at his helplessness.

He doesn’t get enough time to gloat because Dean enters the room with a sharp knife. He flips the knife so he’s holding the blade, and he tosses it at the man. The blade sticks out of his back, and his entire body lights up orange and gold.

The man falls to the ground, dead, and Sam is released from his hold. Sam runs over to you and cuts the zip ties off, and he scoops you into his arms. You have no fight left in you. If Sam is going to kill you, then he should do it now before you gain your strength back.

Sam and Dean leave before Lucifer hears about this, and they take you to the Bunker knowing Castiel is going to be there to heal you. They didn’t keep you long enough to take a lot of your soul but it still takes a lot out of you.

When you wake up, you’re in some kind of infirmary. None that you’ve ever seen before. Sam is on the other side of the room whispering to Dean, and you make eye contact with Dean. The older brother clears his throat and gestures to you. Dean leaves the room and Sam walks over to you carefully. When you show no signs of freaking out, he sits on the edge of the bed.

Sam doesn’t go into a ton of detail so as to not overwhelm you, but he does explain about demons and a bit about their hunting lives.

“I never wanted to hurt you. This is why I didn’t tell you what I did.”

“You scared me,” you whisper.

“I know, and I am so sorry. I’d never do anything to hurt you. I love you so much.”

“I forgive you,” you sniffle. You saved me.”

Sam reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll always save you. I’ll answer any questions you have, but you should get some sleep right now.”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Of course.”

He kicks off his shoes and slides into the small bed with you, and you snuggle into his side. Despite him scaring you, Sam has always and will always feel like home to you. You feel safe enough to fall asleep in his arms like you’ve done so many times before.

x

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[thissying]

“[Max's] dedication is unparalleled – you can see why he is where he is,” says Lulham of his illustrious team-mate. “He really pushes to make the time for it [his sim racing], and he’s not exactly got a lot of free time!

“I feel like this year Max is involving himself a lot within the team, even micromanaging different things as well as being the main image. He’s competing whenever he can.”

Lulham has become an established fixture of the Redline operation, since stepping up his Esports involvement following his A-Level exams.

“I was sort of proving myself in the sim platform and a few people from Redline, including Max, noticed me and took me in and, since then, I’ve improved a lot as well,” he says. “I still went to uni then but, honestly, when I was at uni, I spent most of my time in my flat sim racing! I don’t regret it.”

[...]

Lulham is able to take full advantage of his Esports experience and says there is plenty of crossover between the real and virtual worlds.

“Technically, it’s very similar – the driving, the inputs, even the level of competition,” he explains. “The competitions I compete in, if you have a slight off day and you miss two tenths on your quali lap or even a tenth, then that’s the difference between you having an excellent race and you being P20.

“The margins are very similar. Obviously, you’re putting a lot more on the line with a real race car but physically, set-up wise, I’ve found it to correlate really well and a lot of my knowledge is transferring.”

He even says he finds himself under more pressure for his larger sim events.

“There’s a lot more elements to distract you – even the noise, the smell, the wind, whatever, there’s so many different factors to focus on,” Lulham reveals about his Radical races. “Whereas, in the sim, it’s very much tunnel vision, which can lead you to building up a lot more nerves.”

- How Verstappen's sim team-mate has found real-life racing success