#but she spent a shitty life without knowing anything about who she was

[tomatette]

inspired by this post by @toobusybeingdelulu

Going home

All that was left of Billy's body was a pile of ash in a glorified tin can. Not even because the government hadn’t wanted anyone to mess with his remains. The real reason was actually pretty mundane: cremation was a lot cheaper, and Neil refused to spend anything more than the barest minimum on his failure of a son.

So the urn was lowered into the earth, and a few shovels of dirt later, Hawkins, Indiana, was ready to go back to the daily grind.

Max hated it. She hated it more than anything.

Billy and she ... Look, it had been complicated. They were horrible to each other, and there were days when she had, in fact, wished for him to disappear. To be gone.

But then, when her wish came true, she realized that it wasn’t at all what she wanted. And she wished she could take it all back—to undo all the things that went wrong between them.

Because maybe, just maybe, they could have been real siblings. Real brother and sister.

And even though they never had the chance to come into existence, she mourned them. Mourned the people they could have been.

It was too late now. Repentance was a useless thing. It didn’t help the living, it didn’t bring back the dead. Knowing that didn’t stop her though.

*

Three years later and everyone was moving forward. One after the other, they left Hawkins. Nancy and Jonathan first, then Robin and finally Steve too. Neil only waited for a month after the funeral to get out of Dodge (and good riddance!). Now Max and the party were in their senior year of high school and soon they would all be leaving too.

They would all get out of Hawkins one way or the other. Everyone but Billy. Billy who hated this shitty little town, who’d had plans to get back home to California. Who would have hated the idea of being buried here of all places. It was so utterly unfair, it took Max’s breath away just thinking about it.

*

Neil had sold what was left of the Camaro to the local junkyard. The next day Max went there and pleaded with the owner not to scrap it. Under tears she promised she’d somehow scrape together the money to buy it back. The guy - Gus - took pity on her and helped her fix up the badly beat-up half-burnt car without ever asking even a penny. 

At first Max really had no idea what she was doing. She had just turned fifteen and her only experience with cars was sitting in the back or passenger seat and holding on for dear life while Billy cut the corners like there was no tomorrow. And the camaro was pretty much a wreck. So she just sat down in the corner of the junkyard’s shop and helplessly stared at the car Billy had loved so much.

Gus showed her. The man was a gentle giant. He looked like he could lift a car with one hand, but he never raised his voice. Not even when she dropped a wrench on his foot.

It took a while, but she got better at it. She spent a lot of time on the junkyard. So much so that the guys started complaining because she wouldn’t hang out with them anymore. They didn’t understand. They couldn’t. To them Billy was just the jerk who had beat Steve, threatened Lucas and treated all of them - Max included - like shit. And he was. But he also was so much more than that. And he couldn’t really blame the guys for not seeing what she saw. For not knowing what she knew. But a small part of her did. The same part that also blamed herself for not trying hard enough to help Billy. To save him.

She started to help Gus in the shop and in exchange he didn’t charge her for the parts she needed to fix the Camaro. Which probably were worth a lot more than whatever work she was doing, but she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

It was a week before her seventeenth birthday when the Camaro’s engine finally roared to life again, and Max desperately wished everything were as easy to fix as that. Gus’ birthday gift to her was giving the Camaro a new paint job. She burst into tears the day she came over after school and saw it. The car looked as good as new. The same way she had looked when Billy first brought her home.

Darlene, Billy had called her. Now she was her’s and Max figured that Billy would prefer that over having his baby girl end up as scrap metal. Probably. He loved that damned car, but he was also very possessive of her, so she couldn’t say for sure.

She could only hope he would approve.

She desperately hoped he did. 

*

It caused quite the commotion when she turned up to school with Darlene for the first time. Three years might have been enough for people to forget about Billy, but apparently not his car.

*

The night of her graduation she left the party early and drove Darlene to the cemetery where Billy rested. She got a flashlight and a shovel from the trunk and started digging in front of the headstone that said ‘Gone but not forgotten’ until the pan hit something metallic.

The urn.

Gingerly, she picked it from the hole in the ground and placed it on the grass next to her. Then she filled the hole with dirt and covered it with a sod of grass. No one would know she’d even been there.

“C’mon.” She got up, dusted the dirt off her jeans and took the urn. “We have a long way ahead of us, Billy.”

*

It took them almost a week to cross the country to reach the Pacific, Billy in the passenger seat, Max behind the wheel, an eclectic mix of Billy’s favorite bands blasting from the speakers. Darlene never gave her any troubles. She ate the miles like she was starving for it, and Max possibly fell in love with her a little more.

When they arrived in San Diego, she let the windows down and breathed in the hot, salty air that used to be home to her. Cali wasn’t quite home anymore, not after spending all of her teenage years in Hawkins. But Billy had never belonged there. And all he’d ever wanted was to leave. 

“We made it,” she announced, a bittersweet smile curling her lips. “You’re back.”

*

Max got them a room in a cute little bed and breakfast place right at the oceanfront. She put Billy’s urn on the window sill, undressed down to her top and undies and went to bed, utterly exhausted.

She slept for ten hours straight.

*

The soft pink and orange glow of dawn caressed her face when she woke up early the following morning. She skipped breakfast even though she hadn’t eaten the night before and was ravenous. But that had to wait for a little while longer.

She dressed quickly and snatched Billy from the window sill, hugging him to her chest when she left the house.

The morning was nice and balmy. There was a light breeze coming in from the mountains, playing with her hair.

It was perfect.

“Come, big bro, not much longer.” She crossed the street and went down to the beach that was still empty but would soon be crowded. When she reached the waterfront she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

It was time.

Absurdly, she felt sad, having to let Billy go. She had lost him a long time ago. This was just making things right and giving him what he wanted and deserved.

Tears slid down her face when she opened the urn and upended the contents into her free hand. The wind immediately caught some of the ashes, carrying them out, out, out over the waves towards the horizon where the sun slowly set the sky on fire.

Max dropped the now empty urn and had to clamp down on the instinct to cover her hand up to try and keep some parts of Billy with her. Instead she raised both her hands into the air and gently tilted them, so that the wind could take the remaining ashes.

“Godspeed,” she whispered, wiping her eyes and cheeks with the back of her hand. “Be free, Billy.”

She would always miss him. She really would. But now he was at least back where he belonged.

Billy Hargrove had finally come home.

[eshalstuf]

"esra keeps doing shit by modifying the past" halit is also modifying the past according to his individual desire and no one is complaining about it?? Do you know why? Because that's what we want. That's what moves the story. Do you really want this girl to stay put and make the decision to go back home instead of trying to figure out where the hell her mom and dad are and why she was sent to a different time?

I understand Ahmet's supporters, but Esra has been through a lot of shit in this life too. Ahmet was not the only one who suffered in this story. I will be defending my girl Esra forever.

[celestiamour]

haiii >_< could i request a myunggi (player 333) x fem reader. reader meets him at the games and falls for her because of the way she takes care of junhee and her baby (player 222)! i hope this isn’t too vague 🙈 do whatever ur heart desires with this!

ft. lee myung-gi x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ falling for your kindness towards jun-hee & his faults┊0.5k words

contains: fluff! newly established relationship, past myung-gi/jun-hee but not anymore obviously, reader is very kind

➤ author's note: love girls supporting girls, but the reader is kinder than i am, i would have beat his ass (another short one, i’m so busy omfg i hope to have a proper fic coming soon)

it seemed a little strange to him at first when he realized how much attention he was paying to your interactions with his jun-hee, but truthfully, he was nervous about it all. you had only been dating for two weeks, and he had no idea how you would react to being told that his pregnant ex-fiancee was in these death games with the two of you. he’s surprised you didn’t tear his head off when it was revealed he had a little over a billion won in debt compared to the hundred thousand won he lied to you about, and you were only in this shit because you wanted to help him out too.

it’s only now that he’s noticing that your kindness seemed to have no bounds and that your sincerity was like that of an angel. when you first approached her, he half expected you to start a fight like most of his previous partners did when meeting each other: establishing their position as his girlfriend, telling the other to back up, and maybe even getting physical if they both were in a bad mood.

yet you did none of that, coming to her with all genuine smiles and concern for her well-being.

at first, she was a bit stand-offish for obvious reasons as she’s seen you plenty of times with the ex-youtuber, but once she saw your persistence to make friends with her, she eventually gave in and even smiled that myung-gi is a lucky man for having you in his life. after all, she couldn’t stay indifferent towards someone who went out of her way to help make makeshift accommodations for her pregnancy whether she needed extra food when eating for two, another pillow to sleep comfortably, or a buddy to go to the bathroom with. there was nothing you wouldn’t do for her and sometimes you even spent more time with her than your boyfriend. 

“aren’t you mad?”

“what do you mean?” 

“aren’t you mad at me for having a pregnant ex-fiancee? aren’t you jealous?”

“well, you didn’t know about it until we got here. besides, she said she doesn’t want you back anyway even if you are the father.”

“right, but… what about me keeping the severity of my debts a secret?”

“you didn’t want to worry me, i forgive you! listen, we’re all human and make mistakes, i’m not mad at you about anything. i just want to get out of here alive and use the money we earned surviving to pay everything you owe back then we can start being a real couple without all that on our shoulders.

he stared at you with his mouth slightly agape and shook his head lightly. there was nothing negative in your tone, nothing indicating that you didn’t care or that you just wanted to get the matter over with, you really were accepting the apologies made for his shitty past decisions out of the pure kindness of your heart. it made his own soar like a bird gliding along with the wind, feeling like he had the chance to improve and finally be the man you deserve. 

[doberbutts]

Curious about something you mentioned in your post last week, you said that in your opinion all drugs should be legal and I’m curious about how that would be a positive at all? Like I get weed bc it’s pretty harmless but when I think of drugs I think of cocaine and heroin, which have destroyed so many lives. If it was widely available wouldn’t that end up hurting more people than helping? That’s just my opinion but I’m curious on the other side

I do think all drugs should be legal. This is said knowing that addiction runs in my family and that the only reason my older sister is my *sister* is due to drug use and addiction. Otherwise she'd be my cousin.

Making drugs illegal does not stop people from getting high. It does not stop drug related crime. And it certainly does not stop drugs from tearing families apart.

Addiction is a symptom of a larger problem. Solve the problem and the addict problem goes away. Solve the addict problem and drugs stop ruining lives and destroying families and creating massive amounts of drug related violence. Places that have roled out decriminalization strategies effectively have seen an overall reduction in crime rates across the board, a reduction in recreational drug use, and a reduction in bloodborne illness like HIV. Creating safe needle exchanges as well as safe places to get high with medical staff onhand has also created a locale where very few people die from overdose.

Most people hear "decriminalize all drugs" and think I mean a free-for-all. I don't. I think the drug market should be regulated. I don't think you should be able to get ketamine or heroin over the counter at a walmart like you can get asprin. But I think it's time to stop putting people in jail for getting high.

My aunt tore her life and her family and her health apart for years while she was addicted to heroin. My sister, her daughter, needed to be removed from her care due to the amazingly bad choices she made as a mother due to her addiction and her prioritizing drugs over the health and safety of her daughter. My aunt has had multiple heart attacks from the damage the constant drug use did to her body.

My aunt is more than a decade sober and do you know why? It's not because she got a wakeup call when her daughter was taken away, because at the time she willingly and freely signed her over to my parents because that got her "out of [her] hair". It's not because she had a heart attack, because she went right back to it the moment she was out of the hospital. It's not even because she spent time in rehab and prison, because the moment she was out she was using again.

No, my aunt got sober because her life changed. She was put on a better pain management plan. She got out of her shitty marriage to her shitty husband. She completed some education to make her more hireable so she didn't have to rely on less than safe means of paying her bills. She reconnected with my sister and reforged their relationship once she was 18. She bought her own house. She found love with someone who didn't give a shit about her past and brought out the best in her.

My aunt was a deeply unhappy person. Heroin made life more tolerable for her. Until she couldn't tolerate life without it. Until she'd do anything, anything, to get her next high.

A lot of addicts are addicts because they are self-medicating for something else and their drug of choice has chemical properties that makes their brains crave it more. If you fix the "deeply unhappy" part, you create a healthier environment for that addict to take control over their life again. Without it, they are far more likely to continue to relapse.

Knowing this, why would I then want to add the threat of prison and jailtime- life-ruining things themselves- to an addict's list of concerns?

Look up rat park sometime. In the rat paradise, drugged water was freely offered, and occasional a rat here or there would take a hit or two, but rarely enough to even get high and almost never habitually. Addiction literally didn't exist even though the rats were taking addictive substances. But the rats in cages, seperated from each other, with no enrichment, crammed into small spaces and stressed to hell? Those rats took hit after hit after hit until they overdosed and died. The addict rats were deeply unhappy. The drugs were their only escape. The paradise rats had to be lured in with sweetened drugs to even consider and even then they rejected them. The caged rats did not need sweetner, even though the drugs made the water bitter.

If we can see such a stark difference in rats having their needs met vs rats experiencing isolation and stress, what would happen if we showed human addicts the same consideration?

I think a lot better results than continuing to jail deeply unhappy and desperate people for doing the only thing they can think of to cope.

[2am-writing]

You're a Coward Steve Harrington

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader 

Category: Angst to fluff

Summary: Steve has been avoiding y/n for the last month. It’s not until you’re shit faced at a party for him to confess what’s really going on.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, taking shots, smoking, smoking weed while driving (I do not condone this behavior this is just here for the sake of the story and vibes LOL), throwing up, fighting, kissing

WC: 2.5

A/n: Second “fanfic” “imagine” esc post!! I really hope you like it. This was fun to write and please don’t judge my shitty writing lollll I’m still working on it and lots of room for improvement (: 

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

“I still think he’s into you” Nancy laughed at y/n as she told Nancy the infamous story of how one day her and Steve were the bestest of friends, inseparable really. How they did everything together- movie nights, parties, dinners, even sleepovers. Steve and y/n became close very quickly ever since y/n moved to Hawkin’s about a year ago. But one day later everything had seemed to banish out of nowhere. 

It crept up slowly, and though y/n was trying not to read too much into it at first, she soon realized she should’ve because when she finally came to terms with what Steve was doing it was too late, and he was gone- Not literally gone as in disappeared but, gone from her life. 

It first started with Steve not returning your calls right away, letting them go unanswered for hours, until those hours turned to days. He stopped walking you to class and meeting up before and after school. He avoided you at lunch, and started making excuses to get out of hanging out. All which ultimately led to him completely dodging your presence.

Finally when it became too much for y/n she pressed him in the hallway, on the verge of breaking down, demanding to know what she did that made Steve want nothing to do with her anymore. Steve’s heart was shattered at the thought that he let y/n think that this was her fault. But overall, he thought losing her like this was a better alternative than getting rejected and ruining the friendship that way. So when she pressed him that day in the school hallway, it took everything in him to say nothing and just walk away.  

Over the course of that month Robin countlessly called Steve an idiot, she suspected the feelings he had for y/n but nothing was confirmed. Steve was too stubborn to admit to anything. And Robin too- like Nancy, tried telling y/n

‘I think he’s just an idiot who’s into you.’ But without confirmation, y/n just accepted that Steve had a newfound hatred for her and the only thing could do was bury her feelings for him and forget it. 

As for y/n, she spent a lot of her free time with Robin when she wasn’t with or working with Steve, and Eddie too- they were just friends of course but they did get significantly closer ever since Steve walked out of y/n’s life. 

10pm hit as Nancy, Jonathan, and y/n stood outside the Wheeler’s house waiting for Eddie to pick them up for a party. You weren’t really sure whose party it was, but Eddie knew the guy which automatically meant you and your friends were invited. 

You were excited, and felt like this would be a good opportunity to finally let loose and have fun after how stressful this month has been for you. You wore a tight black mini skirt, a baby tee that rose just above your belly button, and knee high boots. You wanted to feel good about yourself tonight, forget about Steve and everything he put you through. You were never much of a partier and you definitely preferred smoking and relaxing than drinking and partying, but you knew a switch up would be good for you.

When Eddie finally pulled up you hopped in the passenger seat, as Johnathan and Nancy sat in the back.

“Hey- you clean up nice” Eddie laughed at y/n while passing her the joint he just lit. Y/n accepted the joint gracefully and took a hit of it, before Eddie started driving off to the party,

“Not so bad yourself Munson,” She coughed out before taking another hit, 

“Woah, woah, woah,” Eddie stammered, “One, save some for me-” He took the joint back smoking it, “Two, slow your roll and wait till we step foot in the party before you completely lose yourself.” 

The drive over to the party was no more than 20 minutes. On arrival, Jonathan and Nancy went their separate ways as they are more of the inverted partier type. As for you and Eddie, he took you straight to the kitchen to get started on drinks, 

“Okay doll, what’re you drinking tonight?” 

“Tequila,” You answered without hesitation, Eddie was taken off guard by my answer. He knew that wasn't my typical drink of choice. His eyes widened and eyebrows raised,

“Well shit y/l/n, why do I have a feeling I’m gonna be carrying you out of this place tonight,” He laughed pouring your guys’ first shot of the night. 

You cheered your shot before taking it with ease, then taking a hit of a joint you just lit. Eddie’s eyes looked at you in disbelief as you held the joint in your mouth inhaling while pouring another shot before- he chimed in,

“I don’t know if I should be proud or concerned for you,” 

You shook your head laughing, "I just need to say fuck it and let loose Eddie, I’ve been needing this for a while, okay."

Eddie is aware of the situation that went down with Steve, he’s the one who has been at your side and at your every call, always there to comfort you. He knew how much Steve meant to you, though he never understood why you liked him so much, but you just claimed he never got to know Steve like you did.

“Doll, I know you need this, just be careful please I can’t babysit all night-” Eddie got cut off by his friends welcoming him and dragging him out to the back patio.

All honesty you were fine being left alone, tequila made you wanna dance and that’s exactly what you went to do.. After you took another shot of course. 

You slammed your shot glass on the counter after taking it, then filling up your red solo cup with a mixed drink and hit the dance floor. 

You were doing exactly what you had planned on doing, letting loose and having fun. A benefit to going to a party where you don’t even know who’s hosting it is you don't know a lot of the people here- making dancing with random guys a lot easier.

Whilst in the middle of quite literally throwing it back on some guy whose name you didn't even know, your body suddenly froze up, you felt as if your lungs had started constricting, and anger rose inside of you noticed Steve fucking Harrington walking in the door with Robin- 

‘I should’ve known, a friend of Eddie’s is more than likely a friend of Robin’s of course they’re fucking here.’

You sighed, taking a deep breath in, 

‘Tonight is my night of fun and letting lose, fuck Steve Harrington,’ 

You took another swig of your drink before continuing dancing, you were definitely feeling the alcohol hitting you now. 

Steve spotted you the moment he walked into the house. Jealously rose inside of him as he saw you dancing with some guy. But he still couldn't help but miss you and his heart felt like it was aching. That feeling followed up with the thought of rejection, and he couldn’t help but replay the moment in the hallway you two had shared when you were pressing him, he had never seen you so angry.

He quickly snapped back to reality, he could automatically tell you were drunk, he smiled to himself admiring how confident you looked dancing, drink in your hand, you looked as if you didn’t have a care in the world. He missed your presence. 

A few minutes later Steve found himself in the kitchen grabbing a beer. After taking a prolong drink he heard someone stumbling into the wall over towards the bathroom. 

With curiosity getting the best of him he peered around the corner, and there you were. Drunkenly stumbling, joint in your mouth, your hand pasted to the wall using it to guide you to the bathroom door.

When you reached the bathroom you had slammed the door behind you before placing your joint on the sink carefully, then falling to your knees in front of the toilet waiting for the contents in your stomach to rise up. 

Steve slowly approached the door listening to what you could be doing, he more just wanted to know that you were okay in there. The second he heard you start to vomit, worry washed over him. He lost control over himself and didn’t think twice before he opened the bathroom door. His eyebrows pinched together, sympathy in his eyes at the look of you hanging over the toilet sick. 

Your head had snapped over to the door upon it opening, your face had a look of anger then quickly dropping as you made eye contact realizing it was Steve, 

“What the fuck are you doing here,” Your words slurred,

“I know- I know you hate me,” Steve calmly said while closing the door behind him then kneeling down next to you pulling your hair out of you face and holding it back, “Just- just let me help you please,” 

Before you could respond you resumed throwing up and coughing in the toilet violently. Steve continued to hold your hair back while with the other hand he was rubbing small circles in your back calmly saying, “It’s okay, you’re okay- just breath,” 

Truth to be told, his presence felt very comforting, and as much as you wanted to kick him out of the bathroom, scream at him, and analyze this odd situation- You were far too crossed from the weed and alcohol to even think.  

“Why- are you- here Harrington,” You began choking on your words before tears started to form in your eyes, “You avoid me- for- a whole fucking- month, you’re just gone- and now you want to just show up again,” 

“I know- I know, I-”

Before Steve could finish his sentence you started vomiting again cutting off his sentence, his heart ached seeing you like this,

“Hey hun,” His tone gentle, “Can I please take you home, you can’t stay here like this,” 

As much as you hate to give in so easily you knew you were only gonna feel worse. Plus you had a feeling Eddie left the party already with a girl that was hitting on him on the back patio so this may be the best option for you,

“Okay,” You croaked out grabbing Steve’s shoulder to boost you up. Steve stood up with you wrapping his arm around you to help keep your balance,

“Okay- let’s go” 

He guided you outside the house, walking you to his car. He opened the passenger door for you, helping you inside. The world was spinning, your mind was racing yet it was also blank, you rested your head on the window feeling drowsy,

“Your house or mine hun,” 

“Steve-” you slurred, “I can’t go home like this,” 

"Okay," Steve nodded, driving off to his house. 

You blacked out during the car ride, you felt as if you were jumping in and out of reality, nothing felt real. One moment you were sitting in the passenger seat of Steve Harrington’s car, the next minute you were laying on his couch with a slightly better grasp of reality.

You slowly sat up rubbing your eyes not caring if you smeared your mascara. You noticed Steve in the kitchen holding a cup of water as he started walking towards you, 

“Here,” He said quietly, “Uh- We just got here- like 10 minutes ago- here drink this,” He hands you the cup and you drink the water reluctantly glaring at him, 

“How can you just act like nothing happened Steve? You were my best friend one day, and a shitty- selfish person the next.”

Steve sighs, embarrassed, and unable to look you in the eyes. He knows you’re right, he can’t just have you stay the night without explaining why he did what he did. He knew he had to tell you the truth, and he had to tell you tonight. 

“Do you remember the time- uh- we stayed up all night just talking in my car,” Steve’s demeanor was soft, he was staring at the ground breathing slowly,

“Yeah,” 

“I think about that night almost everyday you know,” He pauses taking another deep breath, “We talked all night- about everything- and you feel asleep on my shoulder at sunrise-” 

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at Steve, “Yes Steve I get it. I was stupid enough to open up to you, about everything, my whole life. What? Just for you to ditch me months later and forget about everything?” Tears started forming in your eyes, you started to fill of rage,

“No, no- Just- please let me finish,” I stayed silent, 

“Y/n I love you-” 

“You’re a coward Steve Harrington,” You shouted at him, “You don’t abandon someone you love,” 

Steve’s head snapped up at you making eye contact, you could tell something changed in him, 

“Dammit y/n I fell in love with you!” He shouted. He maintained eye contact, your eyes widened, eyebrows raised, your breathing fasten, yet you remained silent,

“I’m sorry I abandoned our friendship y/n- I’m sorry I left you hanging. I was scared of your rejection, I didn’t wanna lose our friendship that way y/n. I know it doesn’t make sense, but at the time- you know- it did. I know I’m a coward from running away from those feelings, but I just knew you could never feel the same,” Steve stopped talking and started catching his breath,

“Steve, you're an idiot,” You gave him a saddened pitiful smile, “How could I not like you back? Of course I had feelings for you,” Steve’s expression softened as those words left your mouth,

“Really?” In the moment nothing but guilt washed over Steve, he was happy too- But more so he felt guilty, like a real jerk for wasting all that time away from you. But ultimately, all the worry he had of getting rejected from you had vanished. 

Steve inched closer to you, closing the gap that laid between you guys. He held eye contact with you momentarily, breaking it to stare at your lips. His hand cupped your cheek as he closed his eyes slowly pulling you into him. You leaned into his kiss, your hands hanging around his neck. 

You couldn’t believe this was finally happening, Steve felt like he was dreaming.

When your lips collided it felt as if the whole world around you disappeared. Your lips fit perfectly together moving in sync, his lips were soft and gentle with yours. Everything felt perfect. 

Steve paused pulling back, you were both smiling like idiots at each other catching your breath before Steve spoke up,

“I missed you so much- I’ve been wanting to do that for so long you have no idea,”

“No, you have no idea Harrington,” You laughed, “Don’t ever do any of that dumb shit again,”

Steve laughed shaking his head before pressing his forehead against yours, 

“Trust me, I’m never letting you go again honey.” 

[yanderegarden]

No Strings, No Feelings 

| Quick note: Hi, my loves! Here’s a little blurb I wrote during my lunch break at work today. I’m currently working as a med tech, so between that + my uni classes, life has been kicking my butt, to say the least. I hope you’re all taking care of yourselves, and if you’re not, that’s okay too. Just know I’m proud of you for showing up and doing your best. Enjoy!

☆ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄☆ ⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁☆

Katsuki Bakugo AU High School: Jerk! Katsuki Bakugo x Nerd! Reader TW: yandere-themes (barely), profanity, emotional & verbal abuse  FEM Reader

Tip-Jar

You and Bakugo Katsuki had been tangled in this mess for years, ever since that stupidly reckless night at fifteen when neither of you wanted to die virgins. 

Maybe it was boredom, maybe it was loneliness, or maybe it was the unspoken familiarity of growing up side by side in the same classrooms, orbiting each other without ever truly colliding–until that night. 

You thought it meant something–thought you meant something to him. And for a while, you let yourself believe it.

Weeks of it, weekend after weekend, following the first time, you finally asked...

"The hell are you talking about? We’re just messing around.” 

“Tch, don’t make it weird. It’s not like we’re dating.”

“We’re just friends. Friends do this kinda shit all the time.”

The words had been so casual, so dismissive like they meant nothing. Like you meant nothing. But by then, it was too late to take back everything you'd already given him. 

So you swallowed the sting and convinced yourself you could be okay with it.

It wasn't love. It wasn't even romance. It was just something that kept happening, filling the gaps between his perfect public image and your invisible existence.

He found his arm candy soon after–the gorgeous, vapid cheer captain who fit the role perfectly, the ideal match for the prodigy quarterback’s dream girl. And there you were, heartbroken, consumed with the feeling that you weren’t good enough to be seen with him, let alone to be anything but a warm body to him. 

You were nothing like her. No perfectly polished hair, no sparkling laugh, no effortless charm that turned heads in the hallway. She was easy to flaunt, thriving under the stadium lights, cheering on her ‘oh-so-perfect’ boyfriend, Katsuki.

But in the dark, in empty classrooms, in the backseat of his car parked behind shitty fast food joints, you had him. 

Not in the way you once hoped–long before you learned better–but in the way he let you.

And yet, somehow, he always found his way back to you. And that was enough. Or at least, you had spent years convincing yourself that it was.

Tonight was no different. 

The car was suffocating. The scent of cheap fast food, leather, and him, clung to your skin–filling your lungs with every breath. 

You sat in the passenger seat, legs still tingling, pulling your skirt back into place as you exhaled, feeling pleasantly spent.

Beside you, Katsuki leaned back in the driver’s seat, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to show off the marks your lips left on his skin.

He looked good like this, his blonde hair mussed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Routine.

He broke the silence first.

“Dumbass is making me take her out to dinner tomorrow night,” Katsuki muttered suddenly, not bothering to open his eyes.

You didn’t have to ask who he meant. You swallowed down the brief, stupid flicker of something in your chest. “Rough life,” you muttered, your voice flat. 

He let out a dry, humorless laugh. “She’s so goddamn clingy. Always whinin’ about shit. Wish she’d just shut the hell up.”

You didn’t reply. Because you weren’t dumb enough to ask why he kept her around, and you weren’t pathetic enough to pretend you didn’t already know the answer.

Instead, you reached for your phone, the screen lighting up in your hand. A text from some guy in your advanced physics class flashed across the screen. 'So, this weekend? Dinner and a movie?'

You hesitated–not because you thought Katsuki would care, but because some part of you hoped he might.

So you said it. “Some guy asked me out.” Katsuki didn’t react. So you kept going. “I think I’ll go.”

Silence.

Then, slow and simmering, he laughed. Low, almost amused. But when you looked at him, his eyes weren’t laughing.

“The fuck you just say?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

His smirk sharpened, but there was nothing lighthearted about it.

“You think you can go whorin’ around with some extra and still come runnin’ back to me, nerd?”

Your stomach turned. “It’s just a date.”

“No, it ain’t,” he bit out, finally turning to face you. 

His eye contact felt burning, sharp, and unyielding. You watched as his face twisted into a scowl, eyebrows pulling down in a fierce line.

“You’re mine. I own that pussy, you hear me?” His finger jabbing in the direction of your lap, his tone heavy with possession. 

A breath caught in your throat. You forced out a scoff, trying to mask the slight flutter in your chest. “Um. You have a girlfriend, remember?”

Katsuki scoffed right back, running his tongue over his teeth, the corner of his mouth twitching with a sneer. “That’s different.”

“How?” 

His jaw clenched. He didn’t answer right away, just looked at you, gaze so intense it made your skin prickle. The car suddenly felt smaller.

You shook your head, trying to shrug it off. “Look, it’s not a big deal. I just thought I’d mention it.”

His voice dropped, cold and final. “You’re not goin’.”

Your pulse stuttered.

The way he said it—flat, matter-of-fact—sent something sharp crawling up your spine. You frowned, unable to hide the flicker of confusion. “Excuse me?”

His fingers drummed against the wheel, slow and deliberate. “If you go, I’ll make sure every dumbass in this school knows exactly how much of a slut you really are.”

The air thickened. You felt your stomach drop, your fingers tightening around your phone.

For a moment, you thought maybe you misheard. Maybe he was fucking with you. But he didn’t look amused. His crimson stare pinned you in place, his hands still gripping the wheel like he was trying to force things back to how they were.

“Katsuki—”

He leaned in closer, his voice low and mocking. “What, nerd? Thought you could fuck me on the side and go play house with some worthless extra?” His tone darkened, rough and biting.

“Nah. Ain’t how this works.”

Your nails dug into your palm. The worst part wasn’t what he was saying. The worst part was that he was right. 

He didn’t have to threaten you. He didn’t have to tell you not to go. Because deep down, you already knew you wouldn’t.

Your phone buzzed in your palm. Another text. 'Let me know if you’re free.' You stared at it. You should say yes. You should tell him you’ll go.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. But they didn’t move.

Katsuki shifted beside you, watching you and your chest tightened. Your throat felt dry. The car was too hot. The air was too thick.

And then, just like that–your thumb hovered over the message. And you deleted it.

The moment was over.

Katsuki scoffed, running a hand through his hair before leaning back against the seat, shutting his eyes like nothing even happened. Like this wasn’t some unspoken confirmation of what you had always feared.

You were his. And no one else would ever stand a chance.

A smug grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "That's what I thought." His voice was thick with satisfaction, his words dripping with confidence. 

Without another word, he shifted in his seat, glancing at the rearview mirror. "Get in the back," he commanded, voice rough with anticipation. "I'm ready for round two."

[kumasakka]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐔𝐑 ! ❞

⋆.˚ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. gaku x reader .

⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. for once he isn’t staying up late for his video games but instead for you.

⋆.˚ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. ~1.5k .

⋆.˚ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. fluff. f!reader. noceur - (n.) one who stays up late. mix of canon and self made. spoiler - free . safe for minors! crappy writing. gaku may seem ooc .

　"PLEASE, please, please, please! Can you pick me up?"

As a matter of fact, you never would've thought about you begging for anyone or anything. But here you are, about to break into tears while begging, because your dear friend wouldn't give in to pick you up from school. It wasn't even that much work, considering he was near your school. And the fact you two haven't seen each other for a while — a while means two years.

God who knows what Gaku was doing in those years. You have no idea where that guy was even disappearing with his supposed family! They don't even look an ounce similiar beside their silverly-white hair and those good-looks. Who cares now though? You're in a situation in which you can't waste a second since it was hard as hell to convince someone as lazy as him to do something for you.

"Look, if you told your friends a lie and land into a stupid situation, you gotta get out by yourself." his tired voice was on the speaker, "I ain't getting your ass outta that."

"But we haven't seen each other for so long! Didn't you miss me?! We can play roblox together again." you cried out as quiet as you can, sitting on the damned school toilette.

"I don't know where you live but we can play that without meeting each other." you could only hear him sigh at the other end of the mic.

"That's it, I'm burning your house down in adopt me! I'm stealing your neon pets too, lazy monkey!"

"Yeah, yeah. Good luck."

With those last words the call ended, not in your favor. You slammed your fist against the wall of the cabin and stood up from the toilette seat, not caring if someone else heard you. You roughly put your phone into your pocket of your skirt while storming out of the girls' restroom and returning to your friends, mind sunken deep into furious thoughts.

How could he be so mean? After all the time you've spent together playing shitty video games to cure his boredom! You only thought about him whenever he invited you to play with him. Yeah that summarized up how much you like him, enough to watch him speedrun some games and sticking by his side like glue. "He's such a bitch." you cursed, your rushing turned into walking.

Calmly, you pat down your skirt to remove any wrinkles before sliding the door to the side with a tight smile. "Sorry, guys. My boyfriend is a little tired after returning to japan. I mean he was away for a long time and of course, he also needs some time to get used to here. So he can't pick me up today." the lie slipped out of your lips as if it was second nature as you sat down on your seat again.

"Naw, not even on valentine's day?!" one of your friend exclaimed. "Would've loved to met that dude you're crushing about the whole time."

"Must be hard to führen a long-distance relationship."

"So actually, what if he isn't real? Guys, what if [name] lost her sanity and made up a guy. Or what if he's an online boyfriend and [name] is being an e-kitten 'cause she needs money." you twitched as your friend joked.

"I mean there is a chance. After all, they met on the internet!"

That wasn't a lie though. You did meet Gaku through an underrated game — it wasn't a popular game at all, barely hundred log-in's per day and everyone knew each other. He joined, you two became good friends, traded numbers and after a good amount of time you two met in real life. Mind you, you two were fourteen at that time, dumb enough to trust strangers you met online.

Okay maybe you were the dumb one for blindly trusting him. But if you didn't, you wouldn't have been good friends like today! Four years later. And you crushed so hard on him, you could literally walk the path of shame when you thought about your obsession era. It's fine now! The crush phase calmed down while he was away somewhere. You still can't believe he doesn't trust you enough to tell you where.

"You all are fake as heck." you huffed. "Skipping club today."

"Guys, stop. [name] is already heartbroken enough. No need to add more weight and now she's even skipping club!"

"Thank you, mamacita."

"Stop."

"No way."

　You groaned in annoyance, burrying your head deep into your pillow. You're so stupid. "Maybe it was a little wishful on my part for hoping that he would pick me up! I mean, he probably is really tired." you muttered under your breath. "But it's not like he is never tired! That stupid duck only stays up for his stupid games! Curse them, curse them all! He only thinks about this shit."

Sigh.

"Can't believe I'm crushing on someone like him. Bet he reeks. He should touch grass. Green aura with dead flies." you turned so you could lay on your side, eyes wandering to the chocolate bag on your table. "You simp."

It's already midnight. Hours past valentine's day. And you didn't even get to give him the chocolate yourself. "Stop worrying about that [name]." you told yourself as you closed your eyes for a second. "He's right. It's my own fault for telling my friends he's my boyfriend just because everyone had someone they loved and bragged about."

With that, you covered your face in shame and little embarrassment. "Shit... I'm lucky I didn't ruin our friendship over something as silly as this." what you called silly was actually your feelings. If you didn't act because of your feelings, you wouldn't be so disappointed. You really should start thinking before acting.

"I..." you covered your face with the pillow and grabbed your phone from the nightstand, now laying on your stomach, "really wanted to give him this box."

As soon as you looked up from the soft cushion, the light that was emitted by your phone blinded you for a moment before your eyes got used to it.

× The Love Of My Life (1) missed call

[05:34pm]

"Oh." you let out in surprise. Your eyes widened. "Oh."

"Ah... I should call back." you coughed, about to press the call button. "Wait, it's super late though. He probably isn't awake. Or he is awake and playing some video games like always. But he would've called me though— He did call me. The call was a while ago though. Too early for his usual all-nighters play through."

Calling The Love Of My Life . . .

"Uh... seems like it was the inevitable." you sat up from your bed, eyes looking out of the window. Suddenly, you felt nervous. Yet you did the get much time to prepare because after two rings, the call got accepted.

"Finally called back huh? Were you ignoring me or something?" his voice was on the speaker again.

"Yeah of course..." you awkwardly trailed off and tried to play it off coolly, "and? What'cha doing?"

"Nothing. Chilling on the swing." weird.

"Huh, not even playing your usual midnight games?" you asked curiously.

"Surprisingly not. I was waiting."

"Waiting for what? For my call or what? Is that why you stayed up so late till midnight?" you teased him jokingly.

"Actually yes. I was waiting for you."

You blinked at that before chuckling, confused. "Eh?"

"I was waiting for you at the gate. Skipped club today, didn't you?"

"I..." you gazed to the box on your desk, "stay there. You're at the park, right?"

"Guessed right."

Without wasting another second, you ended the call and stumbled out of the bed, rushing past your desk while grabbing onto the box. "I'm out for a sec'!" you whispered-shouted, not caring to change your pyjama as you got your jacket.

　Panting heavily, you finally reached your destination to the park and frantically looked around to search a certain white-headed guy. 'Chilling on the swing, he said chilling on the swing.' your gaze went to the swing. There he was, comfortably sitting on it without any worries and seemingly enjoying the night sky.

"[name], you're here." he spoke up, eyes following your slow figure. His gaze was glued to you. Even after noticing the little box in your hand. "I've been waiting."

"You're at this specific park since it's near my park, aren't you?" you questioned and already figured him out, your heavy breathing calming down ever so slightly. "Here."

Now he allowed himself to take a look at the box you were holding onto. "Happy late Valentine's day, Gaku." you whispered, taking his hand so he would accept those chocolate. "Make sure to pay me back tenfold." you turned your back to him, cheeks completely red while thinking that you made yourself look like some kind of fool. "Or else I will be very mad at you."

"Happy late Valentine's day. I didn't expect such half-assed confession." you froze at the spot, your head back to the guy whose expression was unclear. "Stayed up for you and this, you know?

WHERE'S THE ›I LOVE YOU‹?"

© kumasakka — do not plagiarize , copy , modify , translate our work !

a/n's note — what the skibidi did I write

[grlsinterrupted]

i hope your requests are open again but if not im so sorry!! but i was wondering if u could do a dallas winston x fem!reader where reader is having problems at home (her parents being shitty yk?) and she is just having a really bad day and shes on the verge of a break down but then dallas calls and says he needs bail but she cant bring herself to be angry or else she’ll finally break so she just agrees and goes to get him but he senses somethings wrong and tries to get her to talk to him and basically just a really really really soft dallas

sorry if thats too much😭❤️

but tysm i luv ur work🫶🏼

love is a gentle thing, your’s is thicker than a velvet ring ࿔*:･ﾟ

you’ve reached your breaking point | dallas winston x fem ! reader ⊹ ࣪ ˖

-

it’s insane how much a piece of paper dictates what you can do, what you can’t do, who you can talk to— your entire life, really. though it holds no monetary value, your report card has always seemed to define your self worth, and better yet, served as a constant reminder that you’ll never truly satisfy your parents. no matter how many hours you spent slaving away on your assignments, fighting back the urge to fall asleep right on your desk, your dedication will never be enough.

a thick silence fills the room, the only sound coming from the faint chirping of crickets and the rhythm of your rugged breathing. you’re seated on the corner of your bed, your hands shaking as you grapple onto the edges of your report card. the paper is crinkled, stained with tears and remnants of your mascara smeared across the letter ‘b+.’ the memory of your mother lecturing you about your grades replays in your head like a song you want to unhear. one single letter was enough to spiral you into a loop of madness. suddenly, the silence is broken by a ringing phone. you flinch, reaching over your nightstand to answer it.

you clear your throat, sniffling. “hello?”

a familiar voice huffs out a chuckle behind the phone. it didn’t take you long to realize that this accented tone belonged to none other than your boyfriend, dallas. “hey, doll. y’know how the fuzz are, they’ve been on my ass all week.”

“dal? are you seriously calling me from jail?” your voice is shaky as you bite back your tears, the report card’s weight heavy on your lap. despite how desperately you needed to cry, right now wasn’t the time. you’ve gathered all the composure remaining in you to deal with dallas’ reckless behavior.

“listen, i’m g’na need a couple bucks for bail. you’d do that for me, wouldn’t ya?”

all you can do is sigh. of course he’d called you for bail. even though you wanted to blow up at him over the phone and tell him to pay for his own bail, you couldn’t bring yourself to be angry at him. you were just as troubled as he was, if not, worse— the only difference being that you prioritized your future more than he ever would.

“sure, whatever. i’ll just- i’ll drive there right now. don’t do anything while i’m gone.”

dallas grazes his bloody knuckles against his a bruise on his cheekbone, wincing. somehow, he’d gotten into a fight with a soc while he was walking to buck’s place. granted that you’ve been silent the entire time, he could sense something was wrong with you— the way your eyes have lost that little sparkle in them, the way your head tilted downwards as the two of you walked out of the police station, and most of all, the fact that you didn’t even hug him once he was released.

despite the amount of times dallas has tried to reisist your post-jail hugs, they’re all he looks forward to while he’s stuck in his cell. your hugs blanket him with a sense of security— the kind of security he’s never had. without that subtle gesture, he felt as though a part of him was missing.

“you’ve been awfully quiet.” dallas mutters under his breath, looking down at you.

you shrug, shaking your head. “i never noticed.”

“yeah, but ya know what i notice?” he pockets his hands. “sum’s wrong with ya.”

you can feel your throat begin to close up as you reply. “nothing’s wrong, dal,” your voice begins to tremble as you tell yourself, do not cry in front of your boyfriend. “let’s just go home, now. i’m tired.”

“are ya mad at me for getting into a fight?” he raises a brow, nudging you with his shoulder. “‘cause if you are, he came onto me first.”

something in you snaps, emotions overflowing like a dam bursting. the stray tear that you’ve been fighting to hold back runs down your cheek. you’ve finally reached your limit. “i’m not mad at you for that! well- i am, but i’m just.. i’m stressed, okay?! everyone is stressing me out!”

dallas goes silent for a second, just watching you shatter in front of him. once he replies, his voice immediately softens. “y’know you can talk to me about anythin’, right?”

you gulp, wiping away the tear as you nod.

dallas runs a hand through his hair, biting the inside of his lip almost as if he’s hesitant to say something. he then begins to speak up.

“you forgot somethin’.”

he pulls you into a warm embrace, brushing his fingers through the strands of your hair as you cry into his arms. this time, the hug is offering you that sense of security that dallas yearns for. you’re finally safe in his arms, safe from all of the expectations set on you.

‘love is a gentle thing, your’s is thicker than a velvet ring ..’ .ᐟ ₊˚⊹♡

-

[writteninlunarlight-years]

How they show affection to you throughout the relationship TW: AFAB Reader, Sexual implications, Cringey men, MY SHITTY ASS WRITERS BLOCK

Lucifer

In the beginning, your story together was anything but perfect. He held unyeilding views about sinners, and in his eyes, you were nothing more than a psychopathic killer, a hopeless drug addict, or even, heaven forbid, a demonic radio host.

Yet somehow, you brought joy into his life. Your corny puns and lighthearted jokes became the new normal for his troubled soul. You consistently put him first, even when you didn’t have to, your calm, gentle smile illuminating the darkest corners of his small world.

It truly began with the small gestures—special nicknames that he lovingly crafted just for you. One fateful day, he became visibly upset when Charlie dared to use the same nickname. He sulked for days, unable to shake off the irritation that someone else had used his personal nickname he made just for you.

As your connection deepened, he began expressing his feelings through lingering touches. Afraid to voice the vastness of his emotions, he sought to convey his affection subtly. He would hold your hand a fraction too long during exchanges, his fingers brushing against yours with a hesitant familiarity. When he tucked a stray hair behind your ear, his fingers lingered against your skin just a moment longer. He would pull you close, his hand resting possessively around your waist, silently claiming you as his own.

Eventually, the weight of his unspoken feelings became too much to bear. He opted for indirect confessions, praising your beauty and grace instead of uttering the words "I love you," which once led to heartache. He swept you off your feet, whether in a playful dance or as you strolled through the infernal streets of Hell, reveling in the joy of simply being together.

The moment of true confession came unexpectedly while Kattie Killjoy was out on the road with her camera crew. She stopped you both, curious about the new sinner who had captured King Lucifer's attention. Without a moment’s hesitation, he pulled you into a passionate kiss, declaring to the Hell's rings that you were his.

That kiss sparked a meaningful conversation about the future of your relationship and the love that had been quietly brewing between you for so long. From that moment, Lucifer began guiding you, helping you find your footing as Hell's next queen, all the while cherishing the fact that you chose to stand by his side.

Alastor

He didn’t hate you; instead, he regarded you as a mere plaything—a soul eager to make a deal, much like countless others before you. To him, people were simply pawns in a grand game, assets he could exploit over time. Yet, he never anticipated the profound impact you would have on his life.

Your calm presence was soothing, like the perfect Jazz song on a long night. You found joy in learning about his past, willingly immersing yourself in the world of Jazz, and becoming an enthusiastic participant. It warmed his heart to know he had at least one dedicated listener who wasn’t bound to him by ownership.

He couldn’t help but notice the way your hands lingered near him, a delicate dance of respect and curiosity. Your decision to take up dancing lessons at Mimzy’s work didn’t go unnoticed either. He appreciated your efforts far more than he would ever admit, silently cherishing the way you sought to connect with him.

It quickly became apparent to everyone in Hell—save for the two of you—that something special was blossoming between you. Your every move was shadowed by a newfound intimacy, and Alastor always seemed prepared with an extra outfit for dancing, making it almost too easy for others to see the affection that was growing between you.

Alastor, recognizing your hesitation to risk hurting him, decided to take the plunge and make the first move. He whisked you away to Mimzy’s dance hall, where you spent the night twirling and swaying together. While dancing was not unusual for you two, it was during the slow songs that he drew you impossibly close, enveloping you in a warmth that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

The truth of your shared feelings came to light when Rosie danced by and playfully remarked on how cute and deadly the two of you appeared together. With a broad smile illuminating his face, Alastor looked down at you, and before you could process the moment, he captured your lips in a searing kiss.

This kiss ignited a whirlwind of chaos around you—a symphony of Mimzy’s complaints, Rosie’s laughter, and the distant hum of TV static as carnage erupted in the streets, instigated by an irate man who had glimpsed a glitchy, blurry photo of your exchange. Although the man who snapped the picture met a swift end, the image ultimately found its way into Vox’s hands, setting off a chain reaction of consequences.

Adam

He was the first man, the quintessential figure, the one and only Adam of the Garden of Eden. With an aura of irresistible charm, he dismissed the notion of singular love or romance, believing he needed a multitude of women to satisfy his desires. Sweet, innocent feelings had no place in his world—at least, that’s what he thought.

Little did he know, you were slowly weaving your way into the fabric of his heart. You were the epitome of a perfect angel, obedient and charmingly polite. Initially, he found your demeanor a tad annoying, but as night fell, his imagination transformed you into the devoted wife he never knew he craved.

Over time, his nicknames for you evolved from crude jests to tender pet names, each one reserved solely for you. If anyone dared to inquire about this softer side, he would scoff, brushing it off as if it never happened. The same went for the fleeting touches—his instinct to stand closely behind you, resting his head on yours or your shoulder—he would never confess to being utterly smitten.

His feelings became undeniable when even the mere mention of Eve or Lilith in your presence ignited a fierce jealousy within him. He yearned to shout from the rooftops that you were the one—the "it girl" who had captured his heart. You were his forever, the beginning and the end.

To solidify these feelings and coax you into his embrace, he made it his mission to cling to you, undeterred by gossip or judgment. He wanted you to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that his devotion to you matched yours to him.

The pivotal moment that brought your lips together was orchestrated by Lute, who quite literally pushed you into Adam. Just as he was grappling with cold feet, he found himself frozen in place, your wide, sparkling eyes locked on his. In a whirlwind of surprise, Lute nudged you forward, and as he instinctively caught you, one hand on your lower back and the other tangling in your hair, he realized your hands were resting on his chest. In that electric moment, your lips met, sealing a connection neither of you anticipated.

From that day forward, Lute took immense pride in her matchmaking skills. Whenever Adam wasn’t around, she reveled in bragging about how she had transformed the notorious “massive asshole” into a devoted boyfriend, silencing his incessant boasts about his past conquests. This victory was a personal triumph for her and a welcome relief for the other exorcists, who were finally spared from his relentless chatter about your perfect form.

Husk

He had never been on the lookout for love—not even before his untimely demise. To him, it felt like a distant fantasy, something lost in the chaos of his life. As a gambling man with a penchant for risk, he often found that women were put off by his reckless ways and his struggle with alcohol.

But then you entered his life, and it took far too long for him to realize that his drinking had lessened, replaced by an increasing fascination with you. You became his unexpected remedy, igniting an obsession with your radiant smile and infectious laughter. Your genuine spirit shone brightly, even when the world felt heavy and overwhelming.

He transformed your drinks into special concoctions, always incorporating your favorites—whether they were alcoholic or not. Each glass was adorned with playful fruits and whimsical garnishes aimed at coaxing your smile.

One day, he casually suggested that you help him clean the bar, seizing the opportunity to brush his fingers against your lower back or hold your hands, delighting in the warmth of your presence.

He longed to take a step toward something more official, but with Charlie’s exuberance and Alastor’s unpredictable nature, commitment felt daunting. Yet, it was clear to everyone in the hotel how deeply he cherished you. Encouraged by their nudges, he finally gathered the courage to ask you out, only to stumble over his words and blurt out a clumsy, unrelated question that only made you smile wider.

Determined to make his intentions clear, he devised a plan to ask you out on his own terms. He orchestrated a lovely meal and implored everyone in the hotel to vacate for the afternoon. Once the scene was set, everything fell into place. Your laughter at his classy magic tricks and the sweet rhythm of your conversation made him realize—this was love blooming in its purest form.

When he finally confessed, he was beaming—a remarkable feat for someone who rarely wore a smile. Your genuine warmth and unwavering affection were all that mattered to him, melting away his grumpy exterior.

From that moment on, Husk transformed into a new man. He found purpose in his days, a reason to look forward to the end of his shifts. Yes, the looming presence of the radio demon still weighed on his mind, but you were there, ready to fill the void in his heart with everything he had always longed for.

Vox

You were nothing more than an assistant in his eyes—just a cog in the machine while he juggled the chaotic dynamics of his half-hearted relationship with Val and Vel. Love felt like a distraction; all he craved was power and the sweet satisfaction of seeing Alastor kneeling before him.

Yet, you were an infuriating thorn in his side, clad in alluring short skirts and stockings, flashing a smile that could light up the darkest corners of Hell. Each comment from Val or Vel about you ignited a possessive spark within him. He wanted you all to himself, and he was determined to keep it that way.

The nature of your interactions began to change, starting innocently with the passing of papers or showcasing new products on the tablet. But it quickly escalated to lingering touches—his hands resting possessively on your waist, gentle massages on your shoulders, and teasing breaths against your neck as he leaned in to whisper.

He was intent on making you want him, but pride held him back from crawling to you; that would be too undignified. Instead, he resolved to ensure you needed him just as much. One promise rang clear in his mind: he would never, ever use his hypnosis against you.

His feelings became undeniable the day Val cornered you, a tense moment exacerbated by his foul mood, thanks to Angel Dust’s antics and the fact that you had captured Vox's attention. What began as a heated conversation erupted into a full-blown brawl between the two men, both vying for your affection in one way or another.

When Vox emerged victorious, albeit with a few scrapes, he was seething. But the moment you approached him, your worried eyes searching his, everything shifted. In that instant, he realized you were the one—the only one he would ever need. Forget Alastor on his knees; it was you he craved at his side.

With one passionate kiss, he made his feelings clear, giving Val a defiant middle finger as you and Vox ignited headlines across Hell with your new love story. He would do anything for you—truly anything—and he meant every word.

[fallenhunnyapple]

Some Baby Savior AU Expansion

This is an Adamsapple AU because I love them they have taken over my life. I'm sorry in advance because there's a lot going on and I'm bad at being succinct.

This AU works under the Assumption that Adam didn't Die to get into Heaven. He was Ascended while he was still alive as a 'reward' for staying 'good', having not eaten of the Fruit of Knowledge. But his children were still tainted because of their mother, and so while they were still young, the eldest still only being in their teens, he was taken away from them to stay safe in Heaven.

Also, there are yearly meetings held a week after Exterminations where Lucifer and Adam (and Lute) meet in order to discuss quotas, numbers, etc. They're mandatory as per the agreement.

So-

Lilith left Lucifer while Charlie was still just an infant and he had to raise her alone. It was Difficult and when Lucifer was Busy, Charlie spent a lot of time being watched by her Aunts and Uncles, the Sins. But he foolishly let himself trust the people of his ring once and they took advantage, an Overlord trying to vy for more influence hired someone to steal the Princess and hold her hostage. The night before the Extermination.

Lucifer is already overworked and stressed and now having his daughter kidnapped made him lose his mind and go on a full rampage, destroying part of Pentagram City in his blind rage and panic. Which, Great for the Exorcists as long as they keep out of his way because that means they can pick off all the freaked out and fleeing sinners.

And it's during this panicked frantic mess that Adam quite literally drops in on these shady sinners (through the ground because of Hell's shitty infrastructure) who try to Kill him. Surprise, Angelic Steel weapons are being manufactured and they can Hurt Angels. They're still no match for Adam, so he kills them, but not without getting nicked by a few bullets, his arm injured, his wing useless, and his mask a little shattered. And then he hears a fussy crying sound and finds a baby hidden in a nearby crate. Pale with cute red cheeks and golden hair. She reminds him of someone. And she reminds him of his youngest daughter the last time he saw her... Well, she's hellborne, so he wasn't going to kill her anyway. Maybe he'll just take her home with him and he can puppy dog eyes at Sera until she let him keep her!

But he can't fly with these injuries, so he needs to go to the Embassy where he knows Lute and his girls will be waiting for him. But the Embassy is really close to Lucifer's rampage zone. What's he being so insane about anyway? And after almost becoming collateral, and Adam Yelling at him, it clicks. Those red cheeks were familiar for a reason. She must be his kid. There go his plans for bringing her with him. And here he was picking out a name and everything : / He can't bring himself to hate her or to take her away from her dad when he's obviously so upset. It's Begrudgingly that he gets Lucifer's attention to give the baby back. He's attached to her now.

A week after the Extermination, there's a meeting. To discuss the use of Angelic Weapons in hell, to find out who and how they're being made and distributed and ending that production immediately. And Lucifer can't exactly trust anyone in Pride anymore so Charlie comes to the meeting. She's happy to see the weird Kitty again. Adam is Thrilled to see her and spends a good chunk of the meeting making silly faces to make her laugh.

This becomes Normal, Charlie coming to the meetings, too young to understand anything but excited to get to see Adam. She has very clearly gotten attached to him.

Many years pass (Charlie is over 200 years old, and I assume that means super slow aging so she's developmentally 6 years old) and Adam tells Lucifer to not bring Charlie to the meeting. Lucifer agrees and leaves her with Bee in Gluttony. At the meeting, Adam is there in person, pacing and stressed. Lucifer arrives to find him in that state and Adam breaks down, begging on his knees for Lucifer to keep him in Hell. He can't go back to Heaven. They're going to make him remarry Lilith and she's probably into pegging and he doesn't want to be pegged.

Lucifer tries to wrap his mind around the fact that Lilith is in Heaven. Adam feels a little guilty but what was he supposed to do? He couldn't force Lilith to go home and stop being a deadbeat Mom. Lucifer is Mad that Adam never told him Lilith was in Heaven, he knew how much of a struggle he was having without her. Adam tries to make excuses and reverts to begging again, saying they won't let him leave Heaven again if he goes back. And that hits a cord. Lucifer's angry about the thing with Lilith, but Charlie didn't know her mother. She knew Adam though, and he doesn't want her to go through the pain of losing someone important to her. Okay, he'll help keep Adam safe in Hell so Heaven can't get to him. And by that Point, Adam was reminded that there's a chance that Heaven might come after Charlie so actually he'd be staying regardless so he can keep an Eye on Charlie and keep her safe.

Unbeknownst to Adam though, Lucifer has a secret. He'd fallen in love with him. It's 100% because of seeing how good Adam is with Charlie. Charlie is Lucifer's Everything, she is the most important thing in his life and she likes and gets along with Adam and Adam clearly cares for her and that means more than anything else could. And he's in love because of it. But he doesn't tell Adam that.

Together Adam and Lucifer raise Charlie, they're Dad/Daddy and Dadam (Adam came up with it because actually being called a nickname for father reminded him too much of the kids he didn't get to see grow up). And when Charlie gets old enough to move out on her own, Empty Nest Syndrome kicks in. But in the "we're not raising a kid together anymore, we should go our separate ways" kinda way. Because the entire time Lucifer never said anything about his feelings so they'd been Platonically co-parenting for over a century while Lucifer pined.

Charlie finds out that Adam is thinking of moving out and panics because she thinks this means her dads are getting a divorce. She never knew they weren't married. She never knew they weren't even Together. Because they sure Seemed to love each other all those years! She tries to encourage her dad to tell Adam how he feels and he does. It doesn't go well. Adam doesn't believe it, he refuses. (And it's not because he doesn't love him, Adam has loved him consistently since Eden) But he just can't accept it and decides it's Definitely better to move out. Lucifer goes into a depressive isolated episode while Adam is out there going on week long Benders to try and cope. The Sins have to get involved once Charlie reaches out, worried about both of them because Lucifer is barely responsive and Adam is dismissive. Ozzie tries to find out what's going on with Lucifer and Bee is taking care of the doped up drunken depressed mess that is Adam, she knows how to deal with drunks.

The Sins and Charlie are going to help them sort out their shit so they can actually try to be happy together the way they should have been the whole time. That's about where the conversation's ended for now. Orz this is long

Gonna @ the people who seemed interested in more info @lordxsblog @fightinsoda

[redroomreflections]

Paint It Black Chapter - Friends, right?

Teen Natasha Romanoff x Teen Reader

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Summary: Natasha Romanoff has never known love—or at least, that’s what she tells herself. During her time in the Red Room, she encountered a girl whose memory was forcibly erased from her mind. Now, as an Avenger, she faces a new enemy who turns out to be more than just a threat; they share a tangled history that challenges everything Natasha thought she knew about herself and love.

Chapter Summary: Natasha learns that she and R are more than friends?

W/c: 6.7k

Warnings: This is a dark story, so read at your own risk. Mentions/hints of SA, violence, guns, and abuse. We're exploring the Red Room and Natasha's origins, kind of.

Note: This is a long one. I had it ready a month ago and well life got shitty soo.. i like it. i hope you do too.

The apartment was unusually quiet when Natasha woke up. Her arm was outstretched toward the headboard, subconsciously anticipating the pull and pinch of handcuffs and the cold bite of steel around her wrist. For a split second, she tensed, bracing for the tug that would signal another training day, another lesson, another punishment.

But it never came.

Just sunlight filtered through expensive curtains, and the sounds of a city that didn’t know who she was. The scent of burnt toast lingered through the penthouse from Karen’s poor attempt at breakfast.

Her fingers curled in the space beside her.

This was freedom, supposedly. Soft beds and unlocked doors. But her body hadn’t gotten the message. It was still awake, ready to fight, obey, hurt, or break. She sat up and rubbed the back of her neck, trying to ease the knot, but her eyes kept darting back to the spot on the headboard, expecting… what?

She had spent three years in a bedroom like this one with a pretend mother, father, and little sister. Toys on the shelf. Drawings on the fridge. Warm meals and bedtime stories rehearsed to perfection. But even then, her instincts had never dulled. The illusion had never held, or so she convinced herself.

This was just another variation of the same game.

Different set. Same rules.

She peeled the blanket off and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her feet touched the carpet instead of concrete. The nightgown she'd been provided was a bit too big for her, but it was better than the itchy nightdresses given by her handlers. She headed to the bathroom first, needing to wash her face and brush her teeth to scrub away the last lingering traces of sleep and nightmare.

It was all very routine.

The face in the mirror was the same as always: a young girl. Red hair. Pretty. Green eyes. Small. She'd been told a lot about the girl in the mirror: her name, age, and story. None of it was anything she defined on her own. She splashed water on her face and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. She brushed her teeth quickly, ignoring the way her arm twitched.

There were no gunshots today.

No explosions.

Nothing.

Her stomach growled.

Breakfast.

She'd learned long ago to keep her mouth shut. To do her job. To take her orders. Still, she struggled. Being twelve had its rules, and she had to learn them all over again. She padded out into the hallway, bare feet quiet against the laminate floors. As she passed your door, she hesitated. The lights were off. No movement. Still in there.

Fine.

She moved on.

In the kitchen, the table was covered in paper and grainy photos. Karen stood leaning over a mug of coffee. Ken was already seated, pointing something out on the printout between toast bites.

Natasha lingered in the doorway. She didn’t know the protocol.

“Morning,” Karen said without looking up.

Natasha didn’t respond. Her eyes scanned the table. The woman in the photos was elegant, mid to late twenties, with sharp cheekbones and sharper eyes. Classic Widow. The kind that made men underestimate her.

“She defected last year,” Ken said, tapping the page like Natasha had asked. “Dreykov’s old files say she went ghost in Berlin, but she’s surfaced here. Been leaking intel to someone. We’re trying to figure out who.”

Natasha nodded. She didn't trust herself to speak.

"You hungry?" Karen asked.

Natasha shrugged. She was, but it wasn’t her place to admit that.

Karen gestured toward the fridge. "Eggs are in the crisper. It's about all we have."

Natasha nodded. She eyed Ken, thinking about last night and how he'd been at your bedroom door when she caught him. For that very reason, she decided she didn't like him. Even as she watched him, he barely looked up from his notes, already moving on to something else. Karen sipped her coffee like this was all routine. To them, it probably was. Just another day. Another asset.

Natasha stood stiffly by the counter. She didn’t reach for the eggs. She didn’t move until Karen finally addressed her again.

“You and y/n will go to Central Park today,” she said, flipping to a different page in the file. “Around nine. Our girl usually shows up near the fountain. Light trail. No contact unless it’s necessary. She jogs.”

Natasha blinked. “Just us?”

Karen nodded like it was apparent. “She won’t think anything of kids. That’s the point.”

That’s the point.

She swallowed the bitterness on her tongue.

Karen didn’t ask if she was ready. Or if she felt safe. Or even if she understood. She just handed over the mission like passing off a grocery list.

Natasha gave a tight nod. She understood just fine.

Useful, not protected. Seen, but not seen. A tool. Not a person.

She reached into the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs. The yolks were fresh. Good protein. Healthy.

She was still hungry.

Karen went back to the photos. "You'll get a call at eight. That's when you head out. We'll be here. Trying to get into her apartment." Karen pulled something out of her pocket. "This is a cellular phone."

"I know what a cellular phone is," Natasha muttered.

"Right. Of course. Anyway, here." She slid the device across the counter. "You'll need it."

She stared down at the phone in her hands like it might bite.

It was heavier than it looked. Sleek. Black. Nothing like the clunky handsets they'd used in training simulations. This one wasn’t for practicing field comms or running a scripted op. This one was real.

“Just answer when it rings,” Karen added, returning to her coffee. “We’ll handle the rest.”

No more instructions. No concern. No check-in. Just the phone and the job.

Natasha’s fingers closed around the device. She didn’t say thank you. She didn’t say anything.

She was already expected to know what to do.

She cracked an egg into the pan and watched it sizzle, the scent rising like something familiar, something oddly domestic. But the taste never made it past her throat. Not really.

Behind her, Karen and Ken talked in low voices. They discussed strategies, surveillance angles, and aliases. They didn’t glance her way again.

She wasn’t a child to them. She was a pair of eyes and legs that could move through a crowd unnoticed. A face no one would question. The perfect shadow.

She put the phone in her pocket.

And when the egg was done, she plated it carefully. One for her. One for you.

*****

She knocked at your door gently, wondering what she could say to make you get up.

"Y/n?"

No answer.

"Your eggs are getting cold."

She pushed the door open and stepped inside, expecting the worst. But instead, she saw you sitting atop your windowsill reading a book. She briefly read the title "Are you there, God? It's Me, Margaret." She wondered where you got that from. Books were usually vetted before being given to the widows. So she could guess you'd stolen it, but from where? You didn’t look up immediately, even though you heard the door creak open. You’d half-expected it to be Karen, maybe Ken, coming to give you another order, lecture, or something you didn’t ask for. But when you saw the flash of red hair in the window's reflection, your shoulders tensed for a different reason entirely.

Natasha.

You shifted your posture quickly, trying not to look like you’d been comfortable. Like you were enjoying the stupid book. You pressed the paperback flat against your thigh, face warming as you tried to hide the title beneath your palm. Too late. You knew she saw it.

She didn’t comment, though. She just moved toward the dresser and set down a plate with eggs and a single piece of toast so black it could’ve been used as charcoal.

“Didn’t know what you liked,” she said, voice low. Awkward, almost.

You risked a glance at her. She wasn’t looking at you and just standing there, unsure if she should stay or go. Her hands were shoved into the pockets of her sweatpants, shoulders hunched.

You cleared your throat and mumbled, “Thanks.”

It came out sharper than you meant. Not grateful, but not hostile either. Just… defensive.

Natasha didn’t flinch. Didn’t press.

"We're going to Central Park today," She said.

"What?"

"They want us to tail the mark. You and me."

You blinked.

"Karen thinks the target will be less suspicious of kids."

"Right." You glanced down at your lap. "Sure. I guess."

You weren't sure if she was telling you the truth. She could've easily been sent to ensure you weren't hiding in your room. Not that you think either of those adults out there would have cared.

"Thanks," You said, expecting her to leave the bedroom.

But she didn't.

She stayed, eyes wandering the room.

"Did you sleep well?" She asked after a few seconds of silence.

You glanced up. Her gaze was trained on the bed. On the headboard. On the indentation left by a handcuff. Then down to the pile of clothes you'd had tucked into a corner. Pajamas that you switched out for the ones you were currently wearing.

"It's fine," you said quickly.

Her eyebrows furrowed.

"No one bothered you, did they? You know, while you were asleep," She explained at the raise of your brow.

You shook your head. "No?"

You didn't tell her about the nightmare, how you'd woken up alone and scared. You had never truly slept in a place alone before. She nodded slowly, but her eyes didn’t leave the mark on the bed. You could tell she recognized it. Of course, she did.

“Okay,” she said quietly, though it sounded like she didn’t believe you. Or maybe she didn’t know what else to say.

You shifted uncomfortably, the book still warm on your side. You hated how exposed you felt. Like she could see right through you. Like somehow, she knew about the nightmare, about how long you sat frozen in bed before the sun came up, about the tears you wiped away before they could fall.

She took a step closer, then stopped again. You didn’t look at her, but you felt the tension in the air shift like she wanted to reach out but didn’t know how.

Instead, she asked, “What’s the book about?”

You blinked, thrown off by the question. You glanced at the cover again, embarrassed.

“It’s… weird. Some girl talking to God about periods and bras and stuff.”

Natasha tilted her head slightly. “That sounds… awful.”

That got the smallest laugh out of you. “It kind of is.”

She gave a half-smile. It didn’t reach her eyes, but it was real.

You looked down again, fingers brushing the pages. “Why’d you bring me breakfast?”

Her silence lingered a beat too long.

“Because you didn’t come out,” she finally said. “And I thought maybe you were… hungry.”

You nodded. That was fair.

You didn’t thank her again, and she didn’t ask you to. Instead, she leaned against the doorframe for a moment longer, then straightened up.

“We leave in 20,” she reminded you. “Be ready.”

You didn’t answer, but she didn’t wait. The door clicked softly shut behind her.

And for a while, you just sat there, staring at the dent in your headboard and wondering what it meant that she noticed.

*******

You were both in the park several hours later, waiting for the target. You sat beside Natasha on the bench, your knees pulled to your chest, and your arms wrapped around them. She was quiet. Focused.

Natasha was a people watcher. She didn’t do it purposefully; it was instinct by now. Her eyes went from couple to couple, stroller to jogger, pigeon to pretzel cart. She cataloged everything: the man's hand too deep in his coat pocket, the teen pretending not to watch a tourist’s purse, and the woman pacing near the fountain with a cell phone to her ear, glancing over her shoulder every three seconds.

“She’s not here yet,” she said, almost to herself.

You nodded, though you weren’t sure how she could tell.

“She’ll run past,” Natasha added. “They said she always does. Loop around the west side, head back toward 72nd.”

You stretched your legs and looked around. So many people. Dogs and laughter and honking taxis. It should have felt like freedom. Instead, it felt like noise. Overwhelming noise. You hated to admit it, but Natasha had the edge out here. She looked so natural in the disorder, almost like she belonged in the blur of noise and motion. Her sharp eyes, her steady breath, the way she didn't flinch when a bike zipped past too close to the curb. You, on the other hand, felt like a loose thread just waiting to be tugged.

You hadn’t lied back at the apartment. Dreykov had rarely let you out of his sight. When you were out, it wasn’t like this. It was rehearsed. Controlled. Monitored. The people around you weren’t strangers. They were extras. Props. Trained to play their part in the illusion. You had been on a handful of missions, clean, calculated jobs. Ones where the risk was low and the point was to prove your obedience, not your instincts. You never fumbled. Never failed. You were good. Better than most girls your age.

But you still felt like a baby sometimes. Out here, especially.

Not scared. No. That wasn’t the right word. You knew how to defend yourself. You knew how to kill if you had to. But sitting on this bench, surrounded by life that wasn’t manufactured or staged, made you feel like a shadow at the edge of something bigger. You didn’t know where to put your hands or how loud you were supposed to laugh.

There was no script here. No handler feeding lines into your earpiece. Just you. And Natasha. And the noise of a world that moved too fast and too freely. And even now, you weren’t sure if you were pretending to be a girl… or if you’d forgotten how to be one.

So yeah. This was different. But not impossible.

You glanced at Natasha again. She didn’t even seem tense. Just watchful. Ready.

You opened your book, but your eyes didn’t stay glued to the page. Every few lines, you looked up. Checked the path. Scanned the faces. It wasn’t just about being alert. It gave your hands something to do. A rhythm. Something normal.

Beside you, Natasha shifted. She crouched down momentarily, picking something up from the base of the bench. A stick. Then another. Before long, a small pile formed by her boots. She didn’t say anything; she just let her fingers work, arranging the sticks into a small square and lining them up flat. Careful. Precise.

You didn’t ask what she was doing, and she didn’t explain. But it was nice watching her build something instead of breaking it.

"Why’d you hide away in your bedroom last night?" she asked eventually, her voice quiet and not looking at you.

You froze a little, then turned a page in your book without reading it. "I didn’t want anyone coming in."

Natasha nodded, like she understood. And maybe she did.

"Ken bothers you," she said.

You shrugged, but she wasn’t really asking. Just stating facts the way she saw them. Observing. Cataloging.

“Everyone bothers me,” you said after a beat. You didn't want it to seem too serious.“I just… I didn’t want to talk.”

You felt her eyes on you, but you didn’t look up.

“He knocked,” you added. “I didn’t answer.”

“That’s good,” she said.

You blinked, surprised by the softness in her voice.

Natasha returned to her little stick house, adjusting one of the walls. “You don’t have to let anyone in. Not unless you want to.”

You didn't say anything, but that made you feel a bit better.

A minute passed. Then two.

Suddenly, Natasha nudged you and nodded toward the path. You followed her line of sight, spotting a woman jogging in a pair of black running shorts and a blue sports bra. The target. You recognized her from the files. She was exactly how Karen and Ken had described. As she whirled past you, you averted your gaze, making sure not to seem too obvious.

"Is it her?" you asked, though you were already pretty sure.

Natasha nodded.

"Where is she going?"

"West. Around the loop."

She picked up a stick and set it carefully on top of the pile.

"So we follow?"

"That's the job."

You closed the book. Your heart was racing, and you weren't sure why.

You stood up and took a deep breath, then stepped behind her.

You watched Natasha as you walked along the path, and the woman continued her jog. She slowed ahead like she’d reached the halfway point of her loop. You subtly tapped Natasha’s hand, and you adjusted your pace.

“I think I’m going to ask my mom to pierce my ears,” you said suddenly, your voice pitched loud enough to carry.

“What?” Natasha blinked at you, confused but going along. “Your parents would let you?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t they?”

Natasha didn’t miss a beat. “It’ll hurt.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, but that’s not the point. My friend Sarah had hers pierced, and her dad took her out for ice cream. Plus, it would make me look more grown-up.”

Natasha gave a faint smile, but her eyes scanned the path ahead. “Well, if you truly think so—”

"Excuse me," a voice cut in.

You turned. The jogger had slowed to a walk and was standing a little too close now, her breath only slightly labored, her tone casual, but her eyes too sharp.

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” she said, smiling politely. “I think I’ve seen you both around. You're in my building, right?”

Natasha’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Could be."

The woman’s gaze flicked toward you next, assessing and not threatening, not precisely. Just… curious. Like she was trying to place you in a memory she didn’t fully trust.

You looked away, pretending to adjust your jacket zipper.

“The building near Columbus Circle,” she added, still smiling. Fourth floor. The one with the ugly doormat."

Something in your chest tightened. How she said it, light and teasing, made it feel like a real memory. Like she knew you.

Her voice was smooth and rich, with a faint lilt you couldn’t quite place. England, maybe. Or somewhere near it. Did she grow up there? Her skin was warm-toned and clear, even glowing a little beneath the muted city light. Her hair, long and straight, was pulled back in a neat ponytail. Too perfect for someone who’d just been jogging.

You didn’t recognize her. But something about her made your palms sweat.

There was a kindness in her gaze. Genuine, even. She looked at the two of you like she liked talking to strangers. It came easily to her.

You smiled back. Disinterested but polite. Just a kid on spring break, irritated to be stopped.

But inside, your mind ticked like a clock. You were cataloging every detail: the subtle shift of her weight onto her back foot. The curve of her smile. The faint scar just above her brow, healed but not hidden. Widow marks. Signs you’d been trained to spot since you were old enough to walk in a straight line.

And suddenly you weren’t sure what scared you more—the possibility that she was dangerous.

Or the possibility that she was familiar.

You nodded politely, your heartbeat suddenly louder in your ears. You must have been waiting too long to respond since Natasha stepped slightly in front of you.

“Nice to meet you,” she said coolly. “We’re still figuring out where everything is. Central Park’s as far as we’ve made it.”

"We're here on vacation with my parents." You joined in with much more confidence.

"Vacation." The woman smiled again, but her eyes narrowed a fraction. "Must be nice. Where are you guys originally from?"

"Ohio," Natasha answered.

"That's lovely. My mother is from Cleveland. Do you know it?"

Natasha shrugged. "I've been a couple of times. "

"Ah. I bet it's nice."

"Not bad," Natasha said, a smile playing on her lips. "Though the zoo could use a renovation. The monkeys smell awful."

You stared at her, amazed by how easily she could lie. She was completely casual, even laughing, like this was a conversation she'd had a hundred times.

"Anyway, we should be going," You said. "It was nice to meet a neighbor, though."

The woman's eyes didn't leave your face. "Right. So great to meet you. I have to run. Literally." She chuckled at her own joke before putting her headset back over her ears. You and Natasha started walking again, keeping your pace measured. You didn’t look back.

But a few steps later, something caught your eye on the ground. A small item, half-tucked into the edge of the path.

A leather cardholder. Deep brown, worn at the edges, and unmistakably expensive.

Natasha almost missed it, but you stopped, crouched, and picked it up before anyone else noticed. Your fingers ran over the monogram at the corner. G.R.

“She dropped it,” you murmured.

Natasha leaned over your shoulder. “Are you sure it’s hers?”

You opened it slowly, careful not to look too obvious. Inside: a few subway tokens, a twenty-dollar bill, a photo of a dog sitting in front of a fountain, and a business card.

Georgina Rousseau, Behavioral Specialist.

332B West Tower, Behavioral Health Center.

A phone number, an email address, a faint scent of something.

You stared at the name. Georgina. You quickly put the business card in your pocket before sliding the wallet to Natasha to inspect. If she saw you, she didn't indicate otherwise.

Your mind flickered, something shifting.

“She’s already gone,” Natasha said.

You nodded. She was. "Ken and Karen will want to know about this." Natasha nodded and pulled out the cellular phone she'd been given.

*********

Leaving an entire penthouse to two teenagers was bound to be bad news. Under normal circumstances, a party would be held. Maybe even sneaking into the liquor cabinet if the teens were daring enough.

For you, it meant another night to dive into your book.

You were stretched across the bed, fresh from the shower, hair damp and curling around your ears and shoulders. The night had gone oddly quiet without Karen’s heels clicking or Ken’s voice carrying through the study. It was unsettling how easily the silence crept in. You quite liked it.

The book wasn’t even good. Just distracting. You didn’t relate. Not really. But you liked the way it was written. Simple. Soft. The kind of soft you’d never been allowed to be.

A knock on the door made you tense for a second. But it was light. Casual.

You didn’t answer, but Natasha let herself in anyway.

She was already in pajamas. An oversized tee and shorts. Her hair was tied in two braids like she didn’t know what else to do with it. She padded in barefoot, clutching a pillow under one arm.

You blinked at her. “What are you doing?”

She shrugged and tossed the pillow onto the foot of your bed. “You said we were close enough for sleepovers.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That was for the mission.”

“Right.” She walked over to the window and peeked out at the skyline. “Well, the mission's not over. And I’m bored.”

You closed the book but didn’t mark the page. “We have our own rooms.”

“And?”

You gave her a long look. “What do you want to do? Paint our nails and talk about boys?”

Natasha grinned a little. “Isn’t that what sleepovers are for?”

You rolled your eyes and shifted to sit cross-legged. “You’re weird.”

She sat down next to the bed, back against it, legs stretched out in front of her. "Normal teenagers do these things."

You studied her a bit. The girl who had been so adamant about you not being friends was initiating a sleepover.

"Did you have sleepovers before?" You asked.

"No. Not like this," She said softly. "With Yelena sometimes." She shrugged, trailing off.

You thought about that. How different it was. How odd.

"Were you allowed to be close to each other?"

Natasha hesitated, looking down at her hands. "No, but we were anyway."

"How come you are allowed to ask questions about my life, but I can't ask about yours?" Natasha said suddenly.

"Well, there's nothing to know," You said. "Nothing worth telling."

Natasha shook her head. "I don't believe that."

You shrugged and pulled a loose thread on your pillowcase.

"You always say that," Natasha said, her voice quieter now. "That there's nothing worth knowing. But I see the way Dreykov looks at you. The way the others avoid you. You’re not nothing."

You stilled.

A beat passed between you. Then two.

“I didn’t say I was nothing,” You murmured. “I said there’s nothing I want to tell.”

Natasha frowned, and for once, she didn’t push. She leaned back against the side of the bed, the two of you sitting close, but not touching.

“I’m not trying to make you tell me everything,” she said after a moment. “I just think it's best if we know more about each other."

You swallowed, eyes still trained on the thread in your hand. Slowly, you tugged it free.

"Just a few weeks ago, you were telling me to stay away from you," You began. "You thought I'd lied to you to get a leg up with Dreykov."

"You didn't," she said quietly.

"Yeah. Because I know what it's like to be under his thumb so closely."

She was quiet for a second. "But I was right. You do lie. To protect yourself. And not just for missions."

You didn’t reply. You knew you had lied, and not always because it was necessary. It wasn't even a lie, technically. Dreykov needed her to be at her best. He was going to send her on a mission. This mission. But you didn't think the test had come yet. You didn't want to tell her that part.

“I think you lie so much, you don’t even know what’s true anymore,” Natasha added, not accusing—just observing.

You closed your eyes for a second, not out of anger but because it hit too close.

“That’s the point,” you murmured.

Natasha didn’t respond right away. She leaned her head back against the edge of the bedframe, exhaling.

“We’re not normal,” she said finally. “We’re not supposed to have sleepovers or tell secrets or trust each other.”

“And yet here we are,” you said, voice quieter than before.

Natasha gave a weak smile. “You’re not as scary as they say.”

You gave a soft laugh. “You are.”

Her head turned slightly, just enough to catch your eye. “Good.”

Silence settled again, but this time it wasn’t heavy. Just… still.

Eventually, she spoke again. “Do you want to, maybe, watch a movie?”

You blinked. “Right now?”

Natasha shrugged, her eyes darting away for a moment. “Yeah. If we’re having a sleepover... we’re supposed to watch a movie, right?”

You considered it for a beat. Then you nodded.

“Fine. But I’m picking.”

She rolled her eyes, pushing up from the floor with a grunt. “As long as it’s not that weird puberty book in movie form, I’m good.”

You tossed a pillow at her back and followed her into the living room.

*********

Clueless played low on the TV, its light casting long shadows across your faces. The two of you sat curled up, only a few inches away from each other, on the couch as you tried to make sense of the movie. Apparently, it had been all the rage last year. The movie kept playing in flickers of pink and plaid. Onscreen, Cher was giving another grand monologue about makeovers and high school politics. Her voice was sugary and confident, like she'd never once been afraid of her reflection.

You grabbed the remote and paused it.

Natasha looked over, brow raised. “Why’d you stop it?”

You didn’t answer right away. You were staring at the screen, eyes distant.

“Are girls in America really like this?” you asked finally.

Natasha blinked. “Like what?”

You turned toward her slightly, one knee curling beneath you on the couch. “I don’t know. Loud. Flirty. Ditzy?"

She shrugged. "Some. Why?"

You hesitated, a frown tugging at the corner of your mouth.

Natasha gave you a look. "Do they scare you?"

"Of course not," you scoffed, but your voice sounded unsure. "It's just different from what I thought."

"How?"

"I don't know." You paused, thinking. “I mean, technically, I’m American, right? But I was raised in Russia. In the Red Room. This kind of life?” You shook your head. “It’s like watching a cartoon.”

Natasha smirked. “A very well-dressed cartoon.”

You let out a quiet laugh. “They act like nothing can touch them. Like everything will work out just because it has to.”

Her smile faded a bit as she turned toward you. “Maybe that’s the point.”

You paused. “I think I hate Josh.”

Natasha blinked. “What?”

You pointed at the screen where Cher and Josh were mid-argument. “He’s smug. And annoying. And way too old.”

Natasha let out a small laugh. “I thought you said you liked this movie.”

“I like Cher,” you clarified. “I don’t like that she has to fall in love at the end.”

"Eh," Natasha shrugged.

"I mean, boys are stupid," You continued. "Love makes you soft."

“Soft isn’t bad,” Natasha said.

“It is where we come from,” you replied. Your voice was quieter now. “And anyway… boys are stupid.”

Natasha was quiet for a long beat. Then she said, “Not everyone wants a boy.”

You looked at her.

You didn’t blink.

Not for several seconds.

Natasha didn’t look away either.

The room got quieter. The movie still frozen on the screen behind you, bright colors casting soft light against her face.

Her voice was lower now. “Have you ever kissed anyone?”

You scoffed. “We were trained to. That’s different.”

“No,” she said. “I mean for real.”

You shook your head slowly. “You?"

Natasha didn’t answer.

She just leaned in—slow, hesitant, uncertain.

And so did you.

The kiss wasn’t perfect. It was barely anything. But it was real. Not rehearsed. Not for a mission. Not for leverage.

It was just you and her.

And when you both pulled back, neither of you said a word. When she opened her eyes, those green eyes. You did what only you could do. You panicked. You stood up, rushing to the guest bathroom, before slamming the door.

"Y/n?" Natasha called. "y/n are you okay?"

You didn't answer. You didn't want this to seem bigger than it was. This wasn't what you came for. Kissing her wasn't what you intended. Did you even like her in that way? All of the thoughts were too confusing, and you hated yourself for the tears clouding your vision. Inside the bathroom, you pressed your hands to the sink, gripping the porcelain until your knuckles went white.

Stupid. Stupid.

Why did you let that happen?

You weren’t supposed to want anything. Not connection. Not softness. Not her.

You were supposed to be composed. Cold. Controlled.

Instead, your skin still buzzed with the kiss. Your face felt warm. Your chest felt tight.

And worse, you didn’t even know what you were angry about.

Not the kiss itself. Not her.

You were angry with yourself. For reacting. For letting your guard down. For wanting something you didn’t fully understand.

You stared at your reflection and hated how young you looked.

Fourteen. Widow or not, you were still a kid.

And you had no idea what the hell to do with that.

****

On the other side of the door, Natasha was having similar feelings.

She stood still, hands shoved into her sweatshirt pocket, eyes locked on the bathroom door like it might open if she just waited long enough. But it didn’t.

She replayed it in her head—the kiss. Quick. Barely anything. But still too much.

She hadn’t meant to do it. Not really.

Or maybe she had.

But she didn’t expect it to feel like that. Not like the empty rehearsals with dolls and dummies, or the Red Room training clips on seduction and manipulation. This wasn’t strategy. It wasn’t performance.

It was curiosity.

Warmth.

It was real.

And now she’d ruined it.

You ran. Not just emotionally, but physically. Slammed the door like she’d said something cruel. Like she’d hurt you.

Natasha exhaled through her nose and leaned against the opposite wall, head thunking softly against the drywall. She didn’t like this feeling. It reminded her too much of the early days in training, when she didn’t know the rules yet. When every mistake meant punishment. Uncertainty felt like danger.

She was only twelve, for god’s sake. Just a kid. But she didn’t feel like one most of the time.

She’d killed people.

She could speak four languages.

She could disassemble a pistol blindfolded.

But now she was standing in a borrowed penthouse hallway like some stupid girl in a movie—after a kiss.

The silence dragged on, heavy and uncomfortable.

She wasn’t going to knock again. She wasn’t going to beg you to come out or apologize for doing something she hadn’t even known was wrong.

But she did feel bad.

Not because of the kiss.

But because you looked so scared afterward.

Because for once, she thought she’d found someone who understood what it was like to be pulled apart and put back together in someone else's shape.

Maybe she was wrong.

Maybe she wasn’t supposed to get that close.

Her thoughts began to get more self-deprecating by the minute when the door opened from the bathroom. Her head immediately shot up as she watched you slowly step out. You didn't say much, but the short sniffles she heard from you said a lot.

You weren't okay.

You slid down in front of her, sitting against the opposite wall, your hands balled into fists by your side.

"Did he tell you to do this?" You asked quietly.

She didn't have to ask who.

"No," She tilted her chin. She was observing you. Hoping that it alleviated some pressure.

"Okay," You nodded. "Okay."

Her answer hung in the air like steam off a wound.

You wiped at your eyes roughly, like you were angry they'd betrayed you in the first place. But you didn’t move away. You just sat there across from her, breathing through the quiet.

Natasha stayed still too. She didn’t want to scare you off again.

“I didn’t plan it,” she said finally, her voice a bit hoarse. “It just happened.”

You nodded again, but it was the kind of nod that said you weren’t okay with it. Not because it happened. But because of everything that came with it.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel,” you whispered. “I don’t know what I’m allowed to feel.”

Natasha shifted slightly, arms draped over her knees. “Me neither.”

You both sat there in the narrow hallway, the tile cool under your legs, and the city humming far below. It wasn’t the Red Room, but it wasn’t safety either. Not really.

“I just…” Your voice cracked. You hated it. “I’ve only ever been his. Dreykov’s. Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve learned, it’s all been for him. "

Natasha simply listened.

"We're not supposed to do that. We're not supposed to be that for each other." You sighed. "It's...things like that come with consequences and pain. It's weird."

"Is that why you ran?" Natasha asked.

"Yeah." You looked at her, but it was like you didn't see her. "I don't know why I kissed you back." You admitted. "It shouldn't be a big deal, right? People do that for fun."

"Yeah," She nodded. "You probably know more than me."

You let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know anything, actually.”

Natasha blinked, surprised.

You gave a hollow laugh, your eyes trained on the floor. “I’ve never done anything because I wanted to. Not once. Not really. Not without looking over my shoulder or wondering what it would cost me later."

The words tumbled out faster than you expected. You didn’t look at her. You couldn’t. If you did, you might stop. And you needed to say it before you talked yourself out of it.

“I thought I was smart. I thought I had power, being his favorite. I thought that made me different. Untouchable.” You swallowed. “But it didn’t. He still—he still took things. All the things I never got to choose.”

Natasha’s lips parted, but no sound came out.

“And then you showed up,” you said. “And I didn’t know what to do with that. You weren’t scared of me. You weren’t trying to impress him. You just… were. You asked questions, you pushed back. You saw me.”

You rubbed your hand over your mouth, ashamed of the tremble in your voice.

“So yeah,” you finished. “That’s why I ran. Because no one’s ever touched me without trying to own me or hurt me. And you did it without asking for anything.”

The silence stretched between you, taut and heavy. You finally looked at her.

“Don’t say you understand,” you whispered. “Please don’t say that unless you really do.”

Natasha didn’t. She didn’t say anything. She moved closer, slowly and quietly, until she sat beside you. Not touching. Just near enough that if you reached out, she’d be there.

After a long pause, she said softly, “I don’t think I understand everything. "

You turned your head toward her, eyes glassy.

“And I’m not going to take anything from you,” she added. “Not ever.”

It wasn't a vow. Not a promise. Just words. But they meant something.

You nodded slowly, like that truth had been waiting years to be said out loud.

“I don’t want to belong to anyone,” you murmured.

Natasha looked at you.

“Then don’t,” she said. “Not even to me. Friends don't hurt friends."

You didn't know what changed between that day in the bathroom back home and here, but you were thankful for her. 

----> next part

[weeeeeekly]

the world ended when it happened to me – jake sim x chubby fem!reader part one

blurb You’ve been in love with Jake Sim since you first met him in elementary school, and he’s been your best friend ever since. Your little duo turned into a trio, and you couldn’t be happier, but you can’t help but feel conflicted after your most recent spring break trip. 

info afab/fem mention, reader is depicted as being chubby/plus size, use of y/n, so much angst, friends to ???, one sided feelings, morally gray!reader, non-idol au, college au, college student!jake, college student!reader. ft jay and sunghoon. everyone in this fic is 21.  

WARNINGS!!! NSFW but reader isn’t the one getting fucked, negative self-image, reader has a shitty relationship with her parents swearing, mention of a family member having cancer, mentions of sex, mention of alcohol, lots swearing, not proofread just pure free flowing thought – can you tell i wrote this in a state of anger 

word count 2.1k 

author’s note !! This is FICTION!!!!! Everything is made up by me. The stuff written out is not meant to be a representation of the people, places, or ideas mentioned. Also, prob not accurate to real life counterparts.  

“i have a feeling you got everything you wanted and you’re not wasting time stuck here like me / you’re just thinking it’s a small thing that happened the world ended when it happened to me” we hug now - sydney rose 

"i despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you" lacy - olivia rodrigo

This was the 12th spring break you’ve spent with Jake and 9th with Cassie. It’s come a long way from switching between traveling with one of your parents as kids to travelling alone as adults with new friends as Jake added Jay and Sunghoon months earlier after becoming roommates.   

The five of you had spent a (somewhat) wonderful time in the mountains upstate as Jake’s uncle allowed free use of his cabin. It wasn’t your first choice for vacation, but who were you to pass up free lodging. You hate to admit it, but the mountain air did feel comforting during the dreaded hike you were forced to take part in.  

It was on the last night of the trip when the 5 of you were sitting in the hot tub, having fun playing a drinking game when Cassie shared with everyone that her mom had gotten diagnosed with breast cancer. You felt defeated as she sobbed into your arms, looking at the guys to help comfort her. The night quickly ended after that, you went off to your own room, Cassie went to the bedroom next door, and Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon went upstairs.  

Waking the day after, you were hit with the aches and pains of sitting in a car for hours on end. Your phone lights up as a video call from Jake comes in.

After accepting it, you listen to Jake talk about staying up until 5 AM – spending more time in the hot tub, finishing the last bit of alcohol, and how cold it was. You’re listening intenetly until his tone shifts, “Can I ask you a question?” 

Your heart feels light for a second as you feel your hopes rise up but part of you already knows the answer. And the answer will crush you. 

“Is this a threat?” You lightly joke but hide your FaceTime screen, so your camera is off. 

Jake sighs, “Y/n.” 

“I’m kidding! Just say it.” 

“How would you feel if something happened between Cassie and I?” 

You love Cassie, you really do. She’s been a wonderful friend to you and it makes you happy to share girlhood together. But she’s different from you in almost every way – you just were hoping that this conversation was never going to happen. 

“I wouldn’t care if anything happened.” Lie. “I just hope you would tell me immediately.” Half lie. You would want to know right away, but it would ruin you if you were told after it happened or months down the road.  

“I had sex with Cassie the last night of the trip.” 

Your heart isn’t so much crushed as it is violently ripped from your chest, sent into outer space, and pulverized.  

A deep breath is needed for you to continue this call without shedding tears. “I knew it.” 

It was bound to happen. Jake had made a few off-hand comments to you about how he wouldn’t mind sleeping with Cassie, that one wet dream about her, or his thoughts during truth or drink. 

Deep down you knew it was never going to be you. You could just see it in his eyes when you asked him “what am I stubborn about that’s making my life miserable?” Frantically searching his mind for answer that wasn’t along the lines of “being more than friends”. His final cop out answer was you not “putting yourself out to into the world” which is true as well.  

“Y/n?” 

You hum in response as you continue scrolling through Pinterest.  

“Do you want a debrief of it?” 

“Um, actually, it’s almost 11 PM and we need to go to sleep.” 

Jake lets out a groan as he realizes that he has to get up in 6 hours for work. And you turn your head up to the ceiling to find your inner strength to not sound bitchy. 

“Talk to you tomorrow?” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

Ending the call, you roll over to the side of your bed to charge your phone and smush your face between your pillows to scream.  

You could barely keep your eyes open as you stare at your email inbox every sentence having be reread multiple times to make sense. 2 hours of sleep was all that you were able to get last night as every time you closed your eyes all you can think about is Jake and Cassie fucking.  

It started off with you dreaming of getting married – you were walking down the aisle in your dream dress with Jake standing at the end of the aisle with the biggest smile on his face. You felt your cheeks starting to hurt from how hard you were smiling. You don’t know how you got there or how it happened, but you were going to enjoy your dream.  

Looking around, it’s exactly how you want it – from your favorite flowers lining the aisle and in a small bouquet in your hands to the rows of everyone you’ve ever cared about watching you with tearful smiles, the lack of your parents, and your bridesmaids wearing your favorite color in different styles of dress. It was perfect. You reach the altar as Jake’s hand extended towards you, you take it and turn to look at the officiant who was your favorite teacher from school.  

As you went to squeeze Jake’s hand, you felt nothing and turn back to see that the place where he once stood was empty and the crowd began cheering. Your head turns back to the aisle to see Jake furiously making out with someone. The bouquet dropped from your hand as the person leaned back to show their face – Cassie. Tears began streaming down your face as they go back to shove their tongues down each other’s throats.  

Jolting awake, you felt the real tears on your face. The nightmares that followed consisted of the same formula, you being happy to see Jake in a romantic scenario and ends with him in some capacity making out with Cassie, him always choosing her. 

It’s healthy to feel negative emotions like jealousy, but probably not in the capacity you feel right now.  

It’s not Jake’s fault that he isn’t interested in you. You just… wish he wouldn’t string you along sometimes, that he would just flat out say “it’s not going to happen ever” or just kiss you once to shut you up. He did share a few times over group calls during “horny hours” (which are every hour) that he was an ass guy. You didn’t really have an ass – you had tits. If you had to use a letter to describe your body type it would be a B, tits and stomach, rather than just a P. But you also don’t think he’s shallow and would only be attracted based on body type, but you just know.  

Maybe it’s other factors like your personality. 

You would like to think that you’re a not a bad person – that everyone has a few traits that are undesirable, but you don’t think you’re a good person either. You hate it when your roommates use your favorite cup, like that’s your favorite cup that you use every day, why would you do that. Or that you would rather stick your hand down an active garbage disposal than visit your parents so they can criticize every aspect of your life – which they had already been doing your entire life.  

But Jake has known your complicated relationship with your parents. He’s witnessed his fair share of arguments when they were responsible of hosting spring break. You’ve confided in him your feelings. You’re just not sure if it caused you to push him away. 

jake <3 are you mad at me? you no jake <3 can you call? you sorry, super busy at work right now

 jay! did jake tell u you about what jay! that during the trip you him & cassie fucked jay! are u upset about it

“What the fuck?” You mumble to yourself. You and Jay weren’t that close. Jake has brought him and Sunghoon out a few times to hangout after they moved in together. They both were attractive and seemed nice enough, but you haven’t spent enough time with either of them without Jake. You didn’t even remember their majors. 

you ??? jay! i see the way u look at jake jay! u like him you no i don't jay! so u are upset jay! if u wanna talk about it jay! my lunch break is in an hour jay! my treat you i'm not upset, but i'll get lunch with you so we can be better friends

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

You put your fork down, “What is there to talk about? They had sex, so what?” 

He smirks as he leans back in his chair. “Stage One. Denial.” 

Scoffing, “Are you my therapist now?” 

“That’s the goal. How about you start with an ‘I feel’ statement.” 

“I feel you’re trying too hard.” 

Jay shrugs as he takes a bite of his sandwich. After chewing he says, “I just want you to know that if you want a neutral, third party to talk to about it that I’m here for you. I do consider us friends, you know.” 

“That’s sweet of you, but if I did want to talk about my feelings, I wouldn’t want to burden you.” 

“It wouldn’t be.” 

“Okay.” You’ll allow yourself to crack a little in the empty restaurant hidden in one of the collection of stores behind your shared college. “Hypothetically, let’s say that I like Jake. That I’ve liked him for a while. That when Cassie came into my life, I wanted her to be just my friend. And that I was a little jealous when Jake and Cassie became friends but got over that when we became a trio. But maybe the jealous never died, that it just buried itself in my heart and resurfaced years later. And maybe it hurt every time either one of them said a flirty remark to the other or when they told me secretly how hot they found the other. And so what if dying a million times over would hurt less than hearing that they fucked.” 

Jay stares at you with a concerned look as you cross your arms. “That’s just a hypothetical situation.” 

“Oh, Y/N...” 

Cutting him off, “It’s fine. I’ll get over it.” 

“What if you told Jake how you feel.” 

The (mostly) quiet restaurant atmosphere is broken from your laughing as you look at him in disbelief. “You think that would change anything? I already know how it will go, he’ll say he doesn’t feel that way, that he only sees me as a friend, and then I’ll be embarrassed and slowly distance myself from him until our years of friendship is lost to time.” 

“Seriously, Y/N? You would rather close yourself off from your feelings than express them? What if Jake feels the same way for you? That the friendship was just a start for your relationship?” 

“What if!? And maybe it’s just meant to be a ‘what if’.” 

“You’re scared of relationships because something happened to you previously and you think you’re protecting yourself from future harm, but it’s damaging you instead.” 

You glare at Jay as you abruptly stand up. Your bag is turned upside down as your wallet falls out. Enough cash to cover your portion of lunch is slammed onto the table as you walk out of the place. 

Yes, Jay did read you to filth, but you will admit that one of the worst traits of both of your parents was stubbornness and you were hardheaded.  

Maybe you are afraid of ending up in a dysfunctional relationship for the rest of your life so you would rather not be in any romantic relationship at all. And you were jealous of Cassie. And that you wanted Jake to see you in the same light as Cassie. And maybe you have a crush on both of them. 

Who fucking knows. You had a lot to deal with right now like how you’ll get yourself to get proper sleep again. 

masterlist | next

author’s note thank you for reading this. might write a part two who fucking knows anymore. this semester is kicking my ass, but i needed to get this out of my head. 

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

I wish women did not feel so strongly about the fact men, on average, are physically stronger than them. I feel like women have such negative feelings about this that it drives them to ridiculousness. Listen, I get it. I get it, I get it, I get it. The fact men are stronger is frightening. It’s scary to know that if a man decided to physically attack you then you are probably fucked. The USWNT, women who have spent years honing their skills on the field, lost to teenage boys who—when compared to the women—were basically just beginning to develop their talents. I understand how demeaning that can feel to every woman who hears this fact. I can imagine how demeaning it was for the USWNT. I’m sure every woman has been in a situation, playful or threatening, where they have tested their strength against a man and lost miserably. I’ve seen videos where women hit and slapped men with genuine rage and fury and the man barely even flinched. I understand how embarrassing and scary it can be to come to terms with the strength disparity between men and women, but you simply must come to terms with it. Far too many women have taken to pretending that it's not there—this is not a good approach.

Women choose to pretend it's not there because acknowledging that it's there makes them feel inferior. I ask women to remember that this world was built with the ideals of men in mind and to cater to their specific strengths. Men value strength and violence so of course the world is going to seem like those two things are all that’s valued in it. It's no coincidence that many male heroes are physically strong/easily able to cause harm—such as Naruto or John Wick or the Avengers. Of course it feels shitty, as a woman who inhabits this world, to have to acknowledge that your biology generally prevents you from being able to have the ‘can beat anyone in a fight’ type of strength that gets constantly praised.

However, I implore women to consider that men being physically stronger than them is no more of a significant fact than women being able to give birth while men cannot. Women also have biological advantages over men but when was the last time you saw a man calling himself inferior because of them? Imagine if the world was built with female advantages in mind. Imagine a world where the ability to give birth was seen as some sort of pinnacle of human worth. I mean, the ability to give birth is crazy. You are literally creating a whole new life. The female body is capable of providing the necessary tools to bring about a whole new person. Every brain that has thought of something life changing and every hand that has built something new was brought into existence by a woman’s reproductive system. Every single person that has ever so much as breathed was brought to life by a woman, but men never think women are superior for this fact.

Oh, but women couldn’t get pregnant without men, right? No. IVF exists. But even without it, the correct thing to say would be that women cannot get pregnant without sperm. A woman can get artificially inseminated. She never has to go out and find a man to have sex with. Is that not an advantage? Because, I mean, what can a man do if he wants to have a child but no woman is willing to give him one? Hire a surrogate? That comes with a list of complications, is far more intimate than artificial insemination, and is incredibly expensive. How is that not a disadvantage of being male? You may be thinking that you, as a woman, never want to become pregnant, but that is not the point!  The point is that it's arbitrary to look at biological advantages as anything other than completely neutral.

Women also survive famine better and live longer than men. Imagine a world where women held this over men’s heads? But we don’t live in that world. In this world, I’m certain a man would say that they die sooner because of being braver, taking more risks, and doing dangerous jobs. However, if it were women putting themselves in danger and dying as a result, men would not be quick to call us brave; they'd call us the opposite. Idiotic. Foolhardy. Too stupid to take the necessary precautions to keep ourselves alive.

It is just so painful to see women lamenting over the physical disparity between men and women. Let it go. Consider being neutral on the subject of biological advantage. Consider that male strength isn't something to pretend doesn't exist and isn’t something that proves women are inferior.

I understand that acknowledging vulnerability is against the survival Instinct—I get it—but come on. How can we let this get to a point where we’re saying it’s okay for males to enter female sports and beat the absolute crap out of/wipe the floor with women? Them being stronger is neutral! It does not mean anything! But it’s fact. Pretending it’s not only serves to put women in a losing position. Pretending it’s not only serves to make women into a laughing stock. Men will gladly collect medals that belong to women—they’ve been doing that forever. If there was no reason for male and female leagues then there wouldn’t be any. You cannot deny your way into something being true. I also wish it were true that the average woman was evenly matched against the average man, but it’s simply not reality. In the same way that it’s not reality that the average woman is taller than the average man.

I am begging women to think neutrally about this topic instead of being in such deep turmoil over it that they open the door for men to walk all over us.

[lonerwolff]

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 ⌇𝑙𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑤𝑠

you can also read this story on @lonerwolff on wp and ao3 !

warnings: mentions of drinking and smoking. + shitty mom

chapter 4: The party

previous chapter | next chapter

DAISY WAS STILL trying to figure out how she felt about being there. Sneaking out left a familiar knot of guilt in her stomach. She knew that her parents would lose their minds if they ever found out. But then again, like Lottie reminded her, they didn't have to.

"Daisy!"

The blonde turned, spotting her best friend with a smile on her face near the kegs with Taissa.

Daisy basically hopped over to her, immediately giving her a big hug and asking how she was feeling.

Van laughed, hugging Daisy back just as tightly. "Better now that you're here," she said, pulling away with a grin. "How the hell did you manage to sneak out?"

The blonde crossed her arms. "Lottie's a bad influence."

"Hey!" Lottie protested beside her, coughing out a cloud of smoke. "That's not true"

Van snorted, taking a sip from her cup and muttering a "rght."

Lottie rolled her eyes, inhaling some smoke. "I just pointed out that rules are, you know...flexible."

Daisy shook her head with a small laugh, but the lingering guilt in her stomach didn't fully disappear. Her parents had such a tight grip on her life, and she had spent so long trying to be their perfect daughter. And yet, here she was.

The moment was cut short when she heard the voice of Shauna coming from near the keg Tai was next to.

"I admire your resilience, Tai," Shauna said, voice sharp. "It can't be easy knowing you fucking crippled someone today."

Taissa didn't even flinch. "Cool. Good talk."

She turned to leave, but Shauna wasn't done. "Just admit you did it on purpose."

Taissa froze, slowly turning back around. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

Daisy exchanged a glance with Van, both of them already moving forward. She had suspected Tai and Shauna had planned something, but hearing Shauna blame her friend to have hurt someone else on purpose was full-on bullshit.

Taissa exhaled through her nose. "You're wasted."

"And you're a fucking sociopath."

Van stepped in, placing a hand on Shauna's shoulder. "Whoa, calm down."

Shauna shoved her off. "No! Listen, you guys, we don't have to worry about the Allie problem anymore because Taissa fixed it for us."

"What's she talking about?" Laura Lee asked Natalie.

"She's talking about Taissa's little plan," Nat answered.

Taissa snorted, now turning to look at her. "Oh, please. Since when do you give a shit anyway? Don't you have a bong to hit or a dick to suck?"

Without even thinking, Daisy stepped forward to grab Tai's arm, tugging her back before she could get in Natalie's face. "Tai, don't." Daisy's voice was firm but still soft, almost like a whisper. Tai turned to look at her but didn't say anything.

Instead, she redirected her gaze to look at Shauna, who had talked at the same time as the blonde, giving her a glare.

"Oh, fuck off, Shauna," Natalie snapped. "I don't need you to defend me. Last I checked, you were fine with the whole 'freeze her out' strategy." Shauna looked at her, shocked, guilt flashing across her face.

Laura Lee, still looking lost, glanced between them. "Seriously, what are you guys talking about?"

Before anyone could explain, Taissa, Shauna and Natalie all yelled at the confused girl, "shut the fuck up, Laura Lee!" Laura Lee flinched slightly, her brows knitting together.

Daisy furrowed her brows. "Don't yell at her!" She snapped, louder than she meant to. Laura lee like the other girls looked taken aback, the girl in question giving her a smile nonetheless.

Van also chimed in. "No, no, no, stop it."

Taissa exhaled sharply, her glare shifting back to Shauna. "Somebody needs to take her wasted ass home."

"Say that again, bitch." Shauna took a step closer. "Say that again-"

Then everything turned into chaos. The girls voices were even louder now, catching everyone's attention. Some were trying to break the fight apart, while others in the background, like Randy, were chanting "cat fight!"

Daisy barely registered Lottie grabbing her wrist, keeping her from getting dragged further into the mess just before she went to keep the two arguing girls separated.

"That's it!" Jackie's voice cut through the noise, but no one stopped.

"Enough!" Finally, silence.

Jackie's eyes moved over them, disappointment clear on her face.

"Yellowjackets, with me," she turned and started walking toward the woods. Daisy stood there confused, looking around to see if anyone was following her.

No one moved.

Jackie without glancing back, realized that no one was following her. "Now!"

Daisy barely had time to react before she felt a tug at her jean jacket. Lottie, already walking ahead, was pulling her along without looking back. Daisy followed, falling into step beside her.

By the time Jackie stopped, they were deep enough in the woods that the sounds of the party were nothing but a distant hum.

Jackie turned to face them, crossing her arms. "I don't know what the fuck that was," she said, voice steady, "but I do know that it's over." Her gaze swept over the group. "We're about to go to Nationals. And based on what I'm looking at right now, we might as well not even bother getting on that plane."

Daisy swallowed, looking down, feeling guilty— as if she did something bad.

"Alright," Jackie continued. "Everybody line up."

Again, no one moved.

Jackie clapped her hands together. "No, I'm fucking serious. Line up, come on."

There was a beat of hesitation before the girls slowly moved into place, and Daisy found herself between Lottie and Natalie.

"Here's what we're gonna do," Jackie started. "I want each of you to go down this line and say one nice, true thing about every other girl on this team."

Taissa let out a quiet scoff. "What is this, fucking Girl Scout camp?"

Daisy couldn't understand what was worse; Jackie treating them like a kindergarten class or the fact that she wasn't entirely wrong to do it.

"Who wants to go first?" Jackie asked.

Silence.

Daisy just stared at the ground, hoping she wouldn't call her. She really wasn't in the mood for this. She was already up her curfew, plus the situation they were in per se made her even more tired.

Then, thankfully, Laura Lee's hand shot up. "I'll go, Jackie."

Jackie smiled, clearly grateful as she moved aside to make space.

Daisy let out a small breath, silently thanking God. At least it wasn't her.

Laura Lee stepped forward, looking at Taissa first. "Taissa. You are beautiful in the eyes of our Lord."

Daisy glanced at Taissa out of the corner of her eye, watching as the other girl only gave a tight-lipped smile, nodding once in acknowledgment.

Laura Lee moved to Van next. "Van. You are beautiful-"

"Oh my god," Lottie groaned dramatically, tilting her head back.

The blonde bit her lip, holding back a chuckle as she gave both girls beside her a gentle nudge, Natalie still laughing quietly beside her. Probably a bit too much from Daisy's perspective.

Jackie sighed, shaking her head. "Okay, Laura Lee, fall back."

Daisy swore she heard Laura Lee mumble a soft "oh, okay" before stepping back into place, looking slightly dejected.

Jackie inhaled sharply, muttering something under her breath. Daisy could tell that even she was starting to regret this, but she also knew that Jackie wasn't one to back down.

"Okay, I'll go first," Jackie finally said. She walked up to Taissa, looking her directly in the eye. "Taissa Turner. You have more fight in you than anyone I've ever known. I'm inspired by your determination."

Daisy watched as Taissa's face softened slightly at Jackie's words. She didn't say anything, but Daisy could tell it got through her.

Jackie moved down the line, stopping in front of Van. "Vanessa Palmer, your smile makes me happy every time I see it."

Daisy smiled slightly seeing her best friend's lips lift up at Jackie's compliment.

Jackie turned to Laura Lee next. "Laura Lee, I truly admire your faith." Laura Lee beamed as if Jackie had just handed her a gold medal.

Then, Jackie moved to Natalie. "Nat, I love that you don't care what anybody thinks, and you're so completely yourself."

Daisy felt Natalie shift beside her, almost like she wasn't sure how to respond.

And then, Jackie turned to Daisy.

The blonde's heart skipped, suddenly very aware that everyone was watching.

Jackie's expression softened just a little. "Desirèe Duval," she said, "you always know how to make people feel safe."

Jackie tilted her head slightly, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Honestly, it's kind of weird sometimes. It's like you're some guardian angel sent to us or something."

A few of the girls chuckled in agreement.

"She does always appear at the right moment," Van pointed out, grinning at Daisy.

Daisy felt warmth spread across her face, a small, almost bashful smile tugging at her lips as she glanced down at her feet, shifting them in the dirt. She wasn't used to being put on the spot like this, at least not in this way. But this? It was nice.

Daisy murmured a small "thanks," and Jackie, satisfied with the response, moved on to Lottie. "Lottie, your ambition inspires me. I have no doubt you're gonna take over the world someday."

"She's also deadly at beer pong," Van added from further down the line.

A few girls chuckled, and the blonde could see the taller girl beside her smirk from the corner of her eyes

"So go on," Jackie urged. "Tell her. Come on, guys."

So one by one the girls turned to look at each other, Lottie turned to face Daisy first, a slow, thoughtful smile spreading across her lips. "Daisy, you always make people feel like things are going to be okay, even when they're not."

Daisy felt her chest tighten slightly at the sincerity in Lottie's voice. She blinked, unsure of what to say at first. "I-" She let out a breathy chuckle, shaking her head. "Thanks, Lottie. That means a lot."

Lottie's eyes studied her as she waited for the blonde to speak up. "Lottie, you bug the hell out of me sometimes, but honestly...I'm kind of glad that you do"

Lottie's lips curled into a smirk. "I knew that you liked it."

Daisy rolled her eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. "You just don't take no for an answer. Ever. And sometimes, yeah, it drives me crazy. But...I think I kind of need that."

Lottie's teasing expression softened, her head tilting slightly. "Yeah?"

Daisy nodded, shifting on her feet. "Yeah. You make me do things I'd probably never do otherwise. I mean, I wouldn't even be here right now if it weren't for you."

Lottie smiled, nudging her shoulder. "Guess I'll take that as a compliment."

Their eyes lingered on each other for a moment before they both moved, and Daisy turned to her best friend.

"Oh, hey stranger," Van greeted her, making Daisy do the same. After joking for a little while, Daisy grinned, already knowing what to say. "Van, I swear, you could make the worst day feel fun. You always know how to make people laugh, and I love that about you."

Van shrugged with a smile. "It's a gift."

Daisy playfully rolled her eyes and the redhead grinned at her, shifting her weight onto one foot. "Alright, Daisy. You're like, weirdly good at reading people. It's kinda scary, actually. But also really cool."

Daisy laughed, nudging her playfully. "Maybe I'm psychic, ever thought about that?"

"Wouldn't even surprise me," Van shot back with a smirk. "Might as well add 'seer' to the list."

Daisy shook her head with a chuckle. "Well, if I ever see your future, I'll let you know." She winked.

BY THE TIME they were done, the tense energy from before had basically faded. The girls weren't exactly hugging and holding hands, but at least no one was trying to rip each other's heads off anymore.

Daisy took a deep breath, rubbing her arms. A cool breeze sent a shiver down her spine, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around herself. What Lottie told her to wear wasn't exactly what the blonde was used to wearing for a night out. So as she was looking around, her gaze landed on the brunette, who was standing nearby, drinking something from a red cup. Daisy ignored how her breath hitched and her eyes widened just slightly at seeing her already watching her.

She turned back around before she hesitantly walked closer to her. She cleared her throat before starting. "Hey Lot. Would you mind taking me home? I'm tired and also kind of freezing."

Lottie raised her brows, ass if she wasn't expecting that "Already? You didn't even drink anything."

"Yeah well, that's because I actually want to wake up in time for our flight."

Lottie smirked but nodded, wrapping an arm around her. "Alright then, come on. Let's get you home."

The warmth of Lottie's arm draped over her shoulder was a stark contrast to the cool night air, and she found herself leaning into it without thinking.

"You really are freezing, huh?" Lottie chuckled, glancing down at her.

Daisy exhaled a small chuckle, rubbing her arms. "Yeah, I should've worn something warmer."

Lottie hummed, pulling her a little closer. "Guess that's my fault"

Daisy tilted her head up at her, lips twitching into a small smirk. "Kinda."

"Sorry," Lottie chuckled, and before she could say anything else, a sharp whistle cut through the air.

Daisy hardly had time to turn her head before Van's voice followed. "When's the wedding?"

Taissa stood beside her, laughing as she took a sip from her drink. The blonde immediately felt warmth rush to her cheeks. She quickly stepped away from Lottie's side, rolling her eyes. "Oh, shut up Van."

Van just wiggled her eyebrows, laughing.

Taissa smirked, playing along with Van. "Didn't even know you were cold, Daisy. Looks like you found a heater, though."

Daisy let out an exasperated sigh, crossing her arms. "Okay, we're leaving now."

Meanwhile, Lottie hadn't said a single word. She just stood there, watching Daisy with an unreadable expression.

Daisy stole a glance at her, but when their eyes met, she looked away just as quickly. "Come on, Lottie," she muttered, grabbing her wrist and pulling her toward the parking lot.

As they walked away, Van called after them. "Drive safe, lovebirds!"

Daisy didn't even bother to look back at them, she just shook her head— even tho she kind of wanted to flip them off— she didn't.

Lottie let herself be pulled along without resistance, her lips curling into an amused smile as she glanced back at Van and Taissa over her shoulder. The two of them were still grinning like idiots, clearly satisfied with their teasing. Daisy, on the other hand, was determinedly facing forward, her grip firm around Lottie's wrist.

The parking lot was quieter than the party, the hum of music fading into the background as they walked. Daisy let go of Lottie's wrist once they reached her car, crossing her arms as she exhaled a small breath, shaking her head.

"They're so annoying," she muttered, but there was no real bite to it.

Lottie chuckled, unlocking the doors. "You love it."

Daisy gave her a look, but the small twitch of her lips betrayed her. "Whatever. Just drive, please."

Lottie smirked but didn't argue. She slid into the driver's seat while Daisy settled beside her, buckling up.

"So," Lottie started, tapping her fingers against the wheel as she drove. "What's the real reason you wanted to leave?"

Daisy frowned slightly, looking out the window. "I told you, I'm tired."

"You're a terrible liar, Daisy," Lottie said, glancing at her. "You were fine before Jackie's little intervention. Then you got quiet."

Daisy sighed, resting her elbow against the window and propping her chin on her hand. "I don't know. I guess it just made me think."

Lottie hummed in interest. "About?"

Daisy hesitated. "Stuff."

"Wow, so specific."

Daisy rolled her eyes, but a small smile ghosted her lips. "Just...everything, I guess. Nationals, my parents, sneaking out. What happens after we come back from this trip."

Lottie's grip on the wheel tightened slightly. "You mean Princeton?"

Daisy's stomach twisted uncomfortably. She had never told Lottie about Princeton— not really. But Lottie knew her well enough to put the pieces together.

The blonde let out a quiet breath. "I don't know what I mean."

For a moment, there was only silence between them, the low hum of the car filling the space. Then, Lottie spoke, her voice softer.

"Well...whatever happens, you'll figure it out. You always do."

Daisy glanced at her, the sincerity in Lottie's voice catching her off guard.

Lottie gave her a brief smile before turning her focus back on the road. "And if you don't, I'll figure it out for you."

Daisy let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "I don't think that's how it works, Lot."

Lottie shrugged, eyes glinting playfully. "Sure it is. I mean, who convinced you to come out tonight?"

Daisy sighed, leaning back against the seat. "Right. I should've known you'd use that against me."

Lottie grinned. "You're learning."

Another silence stretched between them, but this time, it was comfortable. Daisy watched the road ahead, feeling the exhaustion settle in her bones. Her eyelids grew heavy, and without thinking, she murmured, "Can you wake me up when we get there?"

Lottie glanced at her, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah"

And with that, Daisy let herself drift off, the steady rhythm of the car lulling her into sleep.

A GENTLE SHAKE stirred her from her sleep. She blinked, disoriented for a moment as she lifted her head. Daisy frowned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she looked outside. "Are we here?" She mumbled.

Lottie nodded, but she didn't move, just kept looking at her. Really looking at her. Daisy looked at her, the brunette's expression unreadable, making the blonde swallow, suddenly realizing at how quiet it was.

"What?" Daisy asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lottie blinked, as if she had just snapped out of what3ver trance she was in. "Hm?" She turned her head slightly, looking away. "Nothing."

"Okay..." the blonde hesitated, watching her for a moment longer before nodding. "I better go then." She reached for the door handle, her fingers wrapping around it.

Lottie gave her a small nod with a small smile on her face. "Yeah, go get some sleep Daisy."

Daisy stepped out of the car before turning around to her friend and saying "Goodnight", Lottie doing the same.

DAISY NOW STOOD in front of her bedroom window. She slowly opened it, trying to not make too much noise.

Her room was dark, and she carefully climbed into it. The blonde sighed when she put her foot on the floor, then the lights turned on.

she froze.

Her mother was sitting on her bed, her hand still positioned on the light switch, staring straight at her.

Daisy felt a chill run down her spine. "Mom-"

"Where were you?" Her mother's voice was eerily calm.

Daisy opened her mouth, but no excuse came to mind. She didn't even try to lie. "At a party." She looked down, ashamed.

Her mother's expression darkened. "You snuck out."

Daisy swallowed hard. "I just...I wanted to have one night with my friends before we leave."

"Before you leave?" Her mother let out a sharp laugh. "Oh, don't act like you deserve this trip. Do you think Nationals are a joke? Do you think we are a joke?"

Daisy stuttered "No, I-"

"You embarrassed this family." Her mother stood, stepping closer. "I have done everything for you, and this is how you repay me? Sneaking around like some rebellious little brat?"

Daisy's throat tightened at her mom's usual dramatic antics.

"I don't even want to see your face tomorrow."

Daisy's brows furrowed and her mother exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Your dad will bring you to the airport. Now go to bed. We'll talk about this after you come back from Nationals."

Daisy didn't move as the door clicked shut. That was weird. Usually, her mom would ground her for months and bring her to church not only on Sunday's but the rest of the week too so that she could "get rid of her sins" like she used to say. Let's just say that it didn't work.

She turned without another word, changing into her pajama before climbing into bed as her mother left the room.

Daisy lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, her chest aching.

They didn't know it yet but her mother would regret every single word.

[danhumphrey]

have you ever thought about how tommy steve and carol became friends? do you think it was like since they were all babies or like they knew each other peripherally but only became close during middle school or something? i love anything that involves tommy and carol and i wish they would show up in the last season somehow

my little made up history for them is that steve and tommy have been friends literally since like. pre-k mostly because their moms knew each other from like mommy groups in the community and set up play dates. i know it’s easy to make steve’s parents into these 2-D evil caricatures but i do think often about steve’s mom being stuck in this loveless marriage that makes her more and more paranoid about her loser husband being unfaithful….im sure before that she tried to make hawkins work…i think she was good friends with tommy’s mom and they spent a lot of time together which is how we get the steve-tommy dynamic in season one where they almost seem like brothers. steve smacking him and rolling his eyes when tommy says something shitty but still continuing the conversation as normal and hanging out with him the same as always, almost as if he feels like tommy is just a permanent fixture in his life and his cruelty is just a part of the deal

i think carol moved to hawkins a little later in middle school and as soon as she stepped in the doors a little censor went off in her head that guided her to tommy immediately because their genetic bitchiness is a 100% match. i think steve adopted carol in and essentially also sees her as a little sister (forever thinking about the Choice in s1 of showing us steve giving carol his applesauce and meatloaf off his own plate….) and overall i think that’s how steve rationalizes their behavior in his brain. he’s like “well… yeah maybe they shouldn’t have said that….but what can i do, they’re like family! that’s just the way they are! what am i gonna do, cut them off?? it’s tommy and carol!”

to me that’s more compelling than steve just sticking with tommy and carol for Status. that doesn’t really make sense because it’s not like we see the three of them flanked by their peers at lunch, or inviting masses of people to their party. i don’t think carol and tommy are particularly popular and that steve clings to them because They as people determine his social ranking, but more because they’ve been his best friends for so long that he just can’t really fathom existing without them. maybe he parties a lot and has a lot of girlfriends and is a star athlete or whatever, but when steve invites people over on a tuesday night, he only invites tommy and carol (and later nancy and barb). they’re his only Friends, clearly, who mean anything to him. so as they get older and tommy and carol get crueler and sharper and more prone to escalate situations, steve just kinda averts his eyes to avoid this cataclysmic break up between the three of them

tommy and carol so endlessly fascinate me. in such a short time we learn so much about the depth of their history with steve, the way they feel comfortable joking and laughing about his parents relationship (in a way that to me almost feels like siblings laughing at the antics of their shared parental unit), the way they seem determined to kinda press on the wound of steve’s insecurity about cheating and infidelity until he freaks the fuck out on nancy and jonathan. there’s like a possessiveness that they seem to feel when steve actually starts to form a close bond with nancy that is so interesting…. ugh i could yap about them forever. they are such an important part of the tapestry of steve’s life……and chester rushing said tommy is in gay love with steve ❤️

[tremsing82]

Elain and Lucien

Most of the anti-Elucien argument is based on the fact that the reader and Elain knows going into this relationship that Lucien and Elain/her are mates and people claim this takes away Elain’s right to choose who she loves.

Yet Feyre and Nesta had no clue Rhys and Cassian where their mates (even though the males knew) don’t get this same argument and that based on the fact that the readers had no clue or it was small inclinations that they were mates. But if Rhys had told Feyre at the end of ACOTAR as she leave the bed she was sleeping with Tamlin in, who she just spent 3 months of torture rescuing, that they are mates, the fandom would have hated Rhys for stealing Feyre away for taking away her freedom of choosing who she loves. But no we spend almost an entire book watching Rhys flirt with Feyre knowing who she is to him and her semi aggressively flirting back, and the reader got to watch Feyre change her feelings about this male and decide the male she formerly loved was an asshole and we all rejoice in excitement when the Suriel told Feyre Rhys is her mate and Rhys confirmed it. No one was pissed. No one was yelling that Feyre should reject the bond or refuse to hand Rhys the food at the end of his monologue. No everyone was happy to know that Rhys and Feyre were destined Mates.

Everyone was sitting on edge as Nesta avoided and argued with Cassian. Everyone was moaning as she entered one of the hottest “sex without expectations”relationships in the series. Everyone was crying as she started wishing Cassian would stay the night in her bed holding her. And everyone excitedly screamed when she and Cassian had that winter solstice night when she unconsciously accepted the mate bond with Cassian and then at the end when she handed him the cracker we all laughed in happiness.

But with Elain and Lucien the readers are suppose to just accept that it is a shitty bond. That it’s not meant to be. That Elain has had her choice to choose who she loves be taken away from her. That she will be happier with a rejected bond when her 2 sister’s bonds prove that the Mother or Fate chose right for them. It just makes no sense.

I mean if anything Lucien is being the best male love interest yet. He knows he has a mate bond. His mate knows they have a mate bond. And he is giving his mate space to figure out her thoughts and feelings about not just this but also about how changed her entire life has become. Rhys and Cassian never gave Feyre and Nesta anywhere close to this same amount of space of time. I mean yes Rhys claims he was never gonna enforcing the bargain with Feyre, that he accepted if she truly loved someone else, but once Feyre was in his court “permanently” and undecided about her feelings about Tamlin he almost never left her side. And yet somehow Lucien is the bad mate, the wrong mate for Elain.

I truly just don’t understand the argument on Elain and Lucien’s Mate Bond being such a negative thing when we have 2 other instances of good and happy bond mates in the story. Elain wasn’t bonded to Beron or the King of Hybern, it’s Lucien people!!!!! Lucien who is one of the best males in all of Prythian. Lucien who is probably the most unproblematic person in all of Prythian, is Elain’s mate. This is not a bad bond. It’s not a “Bond Picked Poorly” situation. Hell for how strongly the bond snapped in place for Lucien and Elain I would even say it’s possible they are “true-paired souls” similar to what Rhys claims he and Feyre are.