#but to each their own y’know. I’m not gonna not answer your ask because you mentioned it once

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

I just scrolled in ur blog and I srsly love it. All those headcanons! Just great. So here r mine (mostly queer hc)

So dipper is transmasc (ik it's canon) and has PTSD and is neurodivergent

Mabel- I like to imagine that she's aroace but still loves romance books and movies and stuff. Also she uses many different pronouns. My other hc for her is that she's pan or bi and trans. AuDHD

Stan- He can totally play ukulele. bi and genderfluid/transmasc. I imagine him taking t and that he had his top surgery in some side street while beeing homeless. And he loves wearing dresses. When they were young him and ford got their earlobes pierced. Maybe Stan had a punk phase. He secretly loves Gompers and even has a mini pool for him. Afraid of needles. Has ADHD

Ford- he's either aro (ace) or a monsterfucker. He havent had top surgery, he binds. Or he's a cis man in my other hc. He uses many pronouns too bc in all the dimensions he was were some that fitted him. He's got so many tattoos and one is a heart and Tesla written on it. Also he's got a cubics cube for fidds and a boat for stan. Also he totally had smth for bill in their early encounters. He's autistic

Fidds- he's also trans but he doesn't use anything to bind or had surgery. Him and ford tried to get T from the mannitaurusses (is that how u spell that?)

Wendy is the bi queen but rn she isn't rlly interested in romance. Shed rather go out with her friends. She often plays pranks on Ford and introduces him to modern technology and anime. She sends ford memes

Soos- he was (i)legally adopted by Stan after he accidentally called Stan dad

Pacifica is a lesbian

I hope I didn't forget anyone :)

oh, cool! a lot of good headcanons right there

I like the idea of ford having a tesla tattoo, might actually steal that one for my own headcanons

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter nine:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ warnings: none, just pure, domestic soph and jack

➴ word count: 2.8k

➴ author’s note: we’re so close to the end of IYLM,LMK that i’m feeling a little bit emotional :,) hope u guys like this one and as always, thank u so much for reading

“HAVE you guys thought about how you’re going to announce your relationship?�� Grace asked, throwing herself in the chair by the fireplace.

You were all in your house, Jack, Grace, Nico and you, chatting after a dinner together. It was the 19th of December, and you were all extremely busy: Jack and Nico with the season, you and Grace with your concert next week, at the Jingle Ball in New York, on the 23rd

“I think the best thing you could do is soft launch it,” Grace answered her own question, nodding. “It would be the move.”

Jack rested his chin on top of your head. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Soft launch means hinting that you’re dating someone without actually saying who it is,” you offered, sitting closer to him. You were all on the floor, and you were between Jack’s legs, drowning in his arms.

“Why would I do that?” He asked, and you can hear the annoyance in his voice. “If I am dating Soph, I want everyone to know about it.”

You smiled, amused with his answer.

“I know that, caveman, but it would be fun to let your fans speculate.” Grace answers back, rolling her eyes.

“Bullshit.”

You and Nico laugh, watching as Jack and Grace argue back and forth over the topic.

You haven’t thought about how you’d share your relationship status with your fans. Sure, you were head over heels for Jack and you— now— knew he felt the same, but you still had your fears and worries. If you announced that you are dating Jack and you both end up breaking up after that, you knew it would cause a commotion— lots and lots of people talking about you and your bad taste in guys and how unlucky you are.

But Jack was so… he was your forever, and you knew it.

It might be soon to say this, but it is just how you feel; Jack makes you feel special in a way only your family had done before and you could see your future with him, and you actually wanted it.

Nico and Grace left shortly after that, because you needed to start packing for your trip. You and Jack organized the kitchen, putting the dishes away and wiping the counters. Surprisingly, Jack did most of the chores himself and even liked doing them.

After you were done, you both went back to your bedroom, and you started organising your things.

“Are you going to perform in sweatpants?” He asked, looking genuinely curious.

You rolled your eyes and laughed, putting another pair of socks inside your bag. “Of course not, Hughes. The outfit I’m supposed to wear during the concert is in New York, because it’s just borrowed. I don’t actually keep the dresses or the skirts and tops I wear during events.”

“That sucks,” he laid on the bed. “I’d love to see you wearing one of those little skirts while you cook lunch.”

“Pervert,” you mumbled, trying to remember if you needed anything else.

“Do you really have to go tomorrow? The concert is on the 24th, baby,” Jack questioned, for the third time today. You smiled.

“You already know the answer, handsome.”

He got up and closed your bag, before putting it on the floor and picking you up, making you laugh. He threw you on the bed, gently, and stood on top of you, his hands on each side of your head.

“I’m gonna miss you, y’know,” he whispered, before placing a gentle kiss on your lips, making your heart beat faster. How’d you get so lucky?

“Me too,” you replied, placing your hands on his cheeks. “I’m still feeling shitty for telling your mom that I wouldn’t be able to spend Christmas with you guys. I really wanted to,” you confessed, furrowing your eyebrows.

Ellen called you when she found out about you and Jack, and rambled for thirty minutes about how she knew you were the right person for him and how she adored you and that you now needed to spend Christmas with them.

You expected yourself to feel overwhelmed and anxious because they were great people and you wanted them to like you, but you found yourself feeling nothing but happy when Ellen called.

But you couldn’t miss the concert and it was damn near impossible getting a plane ticket on the 25th, especially with all the snowing happening in New York. So, Christmas with Grace in your hotel bedroom it is.

“I still can’t believe you’ll be all alone with Grace.” Jack added, looking distressed.

“It’s just how my job works, baby,” you shrugged, giving him a half smile. “I’m sure that if you had to play during the holidays you would.”

He blinked twice before getting under the covers and dragging you with him, so you could be the little spoon, but facing him still.

“Yeah, I would, but it doesn’t mean I’d be happy with it.”

You wanted to tell him that you really didn’t mind that much, you loved performing and you loved to make your fans happy. But you could see he was genuinely upset about the whole situation, so you just snuggled closer and kissed his neck.

“Let’s just sleep, okay?” Your voice sounded lazy and tired, just like how you were feeling. “I leave early tomorrow and you have to go to practice.”

He didn’t say anything, just held you tighter, sighed and kissed your head. “See you tomorrow, baby.”

“Mhm,” you smiled. “Love you.”

“Love you more.”

Even if you thought that was up for debate, you didn’t say anything, embracing the sleep with open arms.

— ⛄️

“FIVE minutes!” You heard the stage manager’s yell in your earpiece, while you read Jack’s texts on your phone.

Texting before concerts and games was just another way of trying to be closer to each other, even when you were away. One of your fears was Jack getting bored of your relationship because you couldn’t be with him whenever he needed— sometimes you had to work on his days off and couldn’t see him.

But whenever he texted you before his games, or when he FaceTimed you before you went to bed, no matter what time it was for him, you could feel your fears stepping back. Jack was a really nice boyfriend for a guy who had never had a girlfriend before, that you had to admit.

You replied back, giving your phone to Grace before you stood behind the curtains, waiting for them to open so you could enter the stage.

The Madison Square Garden Arena was filled with people and screams. You were the opening act, so it was a huge deal. Grace gave you a good luck kiss before you stepped on stage, smiling at how many people were there.

As you step on stage, the energy is electric, with the twinkling holiday lights reflecting off the excited crowd. The first few beats of the "Nonsense Christmas Remix" kick in, and the playful, festive vibe fills the air. You can feel the audience sway with anticipation, and you smile, your mic ready in hand.

‘Think I only want you under my mistletoe.

I might change your contact to “Has a huge North Pole,”

You lean into the light-hearted, flirty tone of the song, weaving your voice through the fun, upbeat rhythm. The holiday bells add a sparkle to the track, making your performance feel like a holiday party. Every line you sing is filled with a blend of mischief and charm, and the cheeky Christmas-themed lyrics keep everyone grinning and tapping along.

You said you like my stockings better on the floor.

Boy, l've been a bad girl, I guess I'm gettin' coal (no).

Lemme come warm you up, you been out in the snow.

Baby, my tongue goes numb, sounds like "ho-ho-ho"

As the chorus hits, you play with the playful nature of the song, giving it a bit of sass while staying in tune with the holiday spirit. You make eye contact with the crowd, as if you’re sharing an inside joke. Each note you hit feels effortless, and the remix’s fun twists on the original song’s lyrics bring a fresh energy to the room.

I don't even know, I'm talkin' Christmas

I'm talkin', I'm talkin' (ah)

I'm talkin' deckin' all the halls, I'm talkin' spikin' eggnog

I'm talkin' opposite of small, I'm talkin' big snowballs.

As you continue singing, the festive mood only grows. The crowd is now fully engaged, swaying and singing along with the infectious, cheeky lyrics. Your voice dances through the light-hearted verses, especially when you hit those playful lines that make the audience chuckle. The jingle bells and upbeat tempo add a sparkle to every word, and you let your personality shine, matching the quirky vibe of the song.

You can’t help but play with the crowd, flashing a grin as you hit the fun twists on holiday references, dropping flirty lines with a wink. As the chorus repeats, you raise your mic toward the audience, inviting them to belt out the words with you. It’s not just a performance—it’s a holiday celebration, and you’re at the center of it. Your confidence grows with each note, feeding off the energy of the room, and by the final line, everyone is wrapped up in the joy and fun of the moment, feeling that special holiday magic you've helped create.

By the end, before you started saying the outro, you could feel the audience wrapped up in the joy of the season and your vibrant performance. You kneeled on the floor besides the crowd:

Tell me is that giant package for me?

Santa's too excited, he came early

Jingle Ball you're so hot I'm not worthy

The screaming was loud, even with the earpiece in. You were smiling so hard, your chest going up and down, your legs feeling like jelly from all the dancing and jumping but you were so freaking happy.

“Thank you so much, New York,” you breathed, blowing kisses left and right. “I hope all of you have a wonderful Christmas and I love you all so, so much. Thank you.”

You bowed before leaving the stage, thanking the band on your way out. You removed your earpiece, still hearing the screams outside. The backstage was a huge mess, with other artists coming at you to say “hi”, and you greeting them back.

Some random man escorted you to your dressing room, and you thought it was weird because usually Grace was the one to do this, but she was probably just busy. Thanking the man, you entered the room, ready to change into some normal, warm clothes because you were freezing—

“Hi, baby.”

Jack was standing in front of you, with his winter jacket and white teeth.

You stopped midway, covering your mouth with your hand.

Jack Hughes was standing in front of you, in the middle of your dressing room.

What.

“Jack?” You asked, even though you were clearly seeing him in front of you. You smiled back, jumping into his arms, happy when he picked you up— you were sweaty from all the dancing but you still squeezed him strongly. “Baby, what are you doing here?”

He held you closer, kissing your temple.

“I don’t know much about this boyfriend thing, but I’m pretty sure a good boyfriend wouldn’t let his girlfriend and her annoying best friend spend Christmas all alone so I thought I’d ask for a few favors.”

“The annoying best friend in question is still in the room, you fuckhead,” you heard Grace’s voice behind you and you removed yourself from Jack’s hold, turning around and facing Grace, who was now smiling back at you. “Surprise, babygirl.”

“Oh, Grace, I love you so much!” You hugged her, kissing her cheeks. “Could kiss you right now!”

“Let’s not do that, right, baby?” Jack pouted behind you, and you giggled. “Save the kisses for your man only.”

“You’re crazy,” you whispered, looking at Jack and then Grace. “Absolutely batshit. What if someone saw you?”

Jack opened his mouth to reply, but Grace was quicker. “Jack was supposed to be here the entire concert, but somehow he convinced the bodyguard to let him watch the show from the pit, and if that wasn’t enough, he took a picture with a fan and the fan’s girlfriend posted it on Twitter. So, yeah,” she shrugged, throwing daggers at Jack with her eyes. “Pretty much everyone knows he’s here.”

You stared at your boyfriend, only to watch him smile naughty. It was clear he didn’t give a fuck about people knowing.

“I wish I could say I knew what to do with you, but I don’t,” you told him, kissing his cheek lightly so that the lipstick wouldn’t smudge. “What about your family?”

“They actually encouraged me to come,” he put his hands inside his pockets. “Ma wanted to send a gigantic apple pie.”

“Let’s call them later, mhm?”

“Sure thing, baby,” he tilts his head, kissing you gently and quickly. “You killed it tonight. My little popstar.”

You blushed and opened your mouth to answer, but Grace was faster— again. “Guys, I’m still here. Please.”

You laughed, hugging her.

“Let’s go home, I’m still jet lagged and so fucking hungry I could eat two entire large pizzas alone.”

“New York pizza sucks, by the way,” Grace added, grabbing your clothes and handing them to you. “Can we have sushi?”

You looked at Jack, silently asking what he thought of it. He just nodded, sitting on the couch and waiting for you to change.

It was going to be a great night.

— ⛄️

“JACK, we shouldn’t be doing this, oh my God, what if I fall, what if I die here—”

You heard Jack’s precious laugh beside you. “You’re not going to die, baby. And if you fall, I’m here to catch you,” he winked at you, and you rolled his eyes, not finding the situation funny at all.

You convinced him to walk around New York, to see the Christmas decorations and drink hot chocolate, but it somehow backfired at you because the minute that man put his eyes on an ice rink, you were done.

You and Jack spent the entire 24th of December sightseeing together. New York was full of people, so you didn’t really bother hiding yourselves.

Grace said she wasn’t going to be the third wheel so she stayed at the hotel. You and Jack walked around, taking pictures and eating food that definitely weren’t in your diet plan but neither of you cared.

At the end of the day, when you were both ready to head back and order takeout, but now, you were both wearing skates.

With Jack skating smoothly beside you while you were holding onto his arm for dear life. The last time you skated on ice you were like twelve years old so your fear was understandable.

He put his hands on your waist, guiding you from behind, not letting you fall. You were still surprised with how secure he was on ice, but then you reminded yourself that he skated more than walked sometimes.

“See? You’re doing great, baby,” he whispered in your ear, and you smiled, feeling proud of yourself; forgetting completely that he was the one doing all the work. “You’re one step away from stealing my job.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, feeling more certain of your steps now. “This is actually super fun.”

He hums behind you, skating a little bit faster and taking you with him.

You were having so much fun. Jack felt warm beside you and you wanted nothing but to kiss him all the time.

He laughed at your jokes, took dozens of pictures of you, held you the entire time. He listened to your rambling about the lights and how good the city looked.

He bought you doughnuts and hot chocolate, and watched with a funny face as you shoved them in your mouth, only to complain about the hotness of the drink.

“Be careful, baby.” he said, kissing the tip of your cold nose.

“Thank you,” you whispered, giving him a kiss.

He held the side of your face with his right hand, while his left pulled you closer by the waist. You stood on the tip of your toes, trying to match his height. The kiss tasted like chocolate, sugar and something else that you couldn’t remember the name of, but it didn’t matter.

You ended up spending Christmas Eve eating take out inside a hotel room with your best friend and your boyfriend, facetiming your mom and sisters— your nieces loved Jack— and Ellen and Jim— she cooked the gigantic apple pie either way— but you never felt so whole and happy.

If it could get any better than this, you weren’t so sure.

— ♡

liked by njdevils, lhughes_06, canucks and 245,982 others

jackhughes Merry Christmas from soph and I

View all 1,990 comments

sophiamontenegro i love u

nicohischier Finally 🫡

user86 I TOLD YALL WHAAT THEYRE DATING ?!!/!/?/??:

user1 I think imma start doing drugs

user78 How tf did he pull her

user21 The way jack’s feed is hockey hockey brothers hockey and then BOOM famous popstar girlfriend is insane

trevorzegras heartbreaking 💔

jackhughes trevorzegras keep crying

_quinnhughes Congrats, Soph and Jackie! Merry Xmas 🤶

morgan.grace is this the “soft launch” we were talking abt jack😭

jackhughes morgan.grace bullshit

njdevils our future miss HUGHES 💜

user93 who even runs this account lmfao 😭😭😭

user11 we got jack hughes dating before gta6

user12 THEY’RE TOGETHER AGAIN?? WHAT ABT THAT GIRL AVA WHO SAID SHE WAS DATING HIM

user13 user12 she deactivated her account after this post so i can only imagine she was lying 🤷🏽‍♀️

+

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Bedtime Stories | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: healing from a sexual assault, some tasteful smut (MDNI 18+ ONLY), canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 5344

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

Now that you and the brothers had a working Colt thanks to Bobby and, as much as you hated to admit it, Ruby, the brothers were debating what to do with it. 

“I don't understand, Dean. Why not?” Sam questioned angrily. 

“Because I said so.”

“We got the Colt now!”

“Sam…” Dean warned. 

“We can summon the Crossroads Demon—”

Dean shouted over Sam, “We're not summoning anything—!”

“—pull the gun on her, and force her to let you out of the deal!” Sam finished, getting louder.

You rubbed your temples, head pounding with each shout.

“We don't even know if that'll work!” Dean roared. 

“Well, then we'll just shoot her! If she dies, then the deal goes away!” Sam yelled. 

“Boys!” You finally shouted, silencing them. “Both of you are going to get a grip, or so help me god, I will do this one on my own; you understand?!”

Neither man responded to you, both staring wordlessly at the road ahead. 

“Sam, the crossroads demons don’t hold the contracts—” you began.

Sam cut you off. “How do you—?!”

“Let me finish!” you snapped. 

Sam quieted again. 

“And Dean has already said that if we fuck with this deal at all, you die.”

“And if we don't fuck with it, Dean dies!”

Dean broke back in. “Sam, enough! I am not going to have this conversation.”

The brunet scoffed. “Why, because you said so?”

“Yes, because I fucking said so!” Dean asserted. 

“Well, you’re not Dad!”

The two men stared silently at each other. 

“No, but I am the oldest,” Dean finally said fiercely. “And I'm doing what's best. And you're going to let this go, you understand me?”

Sam turned away and looked angrily out the window. 

“Tell me about the psychotic killer,” Dean ordered calmly. “C'mon, Sam, tell me about the psychotic killer.”

Sam grabbed a paper from his lap and read monotonously. “Psychotic killer… rips victims apart with brute-like ferocity.”

“Any razor sharp teeth or four-inch claws?” you asked. 

“No. But the lunar cycle's right. Look,” Sam sighed, “if it is a werewolf, we don't have long; moon's full this Friday and that's the last time it changes for a month.”

Dean shrugged. “Two days, no sweat.”

***

That night, when you arrived at the motel in the town you’d be hunting in, you and Dean got a room separate from Sam. The two boys decided they needed some time apart after their argument. 

“How do you know that killing the crossroads demon won’t get rid of my deal?” Dean asked, breaking the silence that had settled over you as the two of you got ready for bed.

“Dean—”

“(Y/N),” he said sternly, turning to face you. “Answer me.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you finished pulling on your— well, Dean’s— t-shirt. 

“Sweetheart, please,” he begged you. “Tell me the truth.”

“I’m not gonna mince my words,” you began. “I was trying to get you out of your deal while I was gone. Y’know, before the Seven Deadlies? I tried to make a deal to get you out of yours. No one would bite.”

“(Y/N), why the fuck would you—”

“Because I love you,” you cut him off. You headed over to him and cupped his cheek in your hand. “And if I could stop you from dying without hurting Sam, I would. I’d trade my life for yours in a heartbeat.”

He kissed your palm, but you could tell he was still upset at the thought of you doing that for him. “Are you still trying?”

You shook your head and removed your hand from his face. “No. I knew you’d never forgive me if I was.”

“Damn right,” Dean replied. He stared down at you intensely, and you couldn’t quite read his expression. 

You searched his eyes desperately. “What am I gonna do without you,” you breathed out before you could think about it. 

Dean leaned down and rested his forehead against yours. You closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling of him against you. 

You nuzzled your nose against his and slowly leaned in to kiss him. As soon as your lips connected, Dean wrapped his arms around you and held you against him firmly while you threaded your fingers through his hair.

You could feel Dean encouraging you to jump, and you wound your legs around his waist. He caught you easily and walked you over to the bed. Dean gently laid you back on the pillow, and you kept your ankles crossed behind his back. You tugged greedily on his shirt until he tore it off himself, and he then began pushing your shirt up your body. 

You allowed Dean to remove your shirt and then your bra. He looked to you, eyes hungry but pleading and respectful. “Can I—?” He paused. “Can I touch you?”

You nodded, feeling slightly proud of yourself that you were making Dean Winchester get flustered. 

“Words, sweetheart,” he said. 

“Yes. Please touch me,” you begged, arching into him.

He breathed out, almost in relief, and goosebumps formed under his touch as he trailed his fingers down your stomach. Searching your eyes for any sign of hesitation all the way down, he stopped his fingers at your panties. 

“Dean, it’s okay,” you told him. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said, staring at you intensely. 

“Dee,” you told him, grabbing his wrist, “it’s okay. I’m okay.” You guided his hand into the waistband of your underwear and allowed him to slip his fingers between your folds.

You took in a sharp breath as he did so, and Dean leaned in to kiss you passionately. He gently bit your lip every once in a while, and you began to palm him through his boxers. He groaned into your mouth, and you couldn’t wait to feel him against you. 

“Dean,” you said between kisses, “Dee, I need you.”

“God, yes,” he groaned, “I need you, too.”

You kissed him feverishly, hands making quick work of his and your underwear while he played with your breasts. Dean sat back on his knees and stroked his cock. 

You looked up at him, somehow both doe-eyed and wantonly, and spread your legs to expose yourself to him. 

“God, (Y/N),” he breathed out. “You are so… beautiful.”

You smiled warmly, instantly reaching out to pull him back down to you. He happily accepted your touch and lined himself up with your vagina.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked. 

“Yes. God, yes,” you moaned. 

Dean didn’t need to be told twice. Within seconds, he was inside you. He rolled his hips against yours smoothly, kissing you gently as his thrusts stretched you out deliciously. His thrusts soon became sloppy, and he broke the kiss to reach down to your clit.

“Cum for me,” he commanded gently. 

“Need you to first,” you whined. 

“Nuh-uh,” he replied, quickening the circles he made around your clit. “Now.”

“Dean—!” you moaned, suddenly convulsing with your orgasm. You reached out to him and scratched at his back, begging the orgasm to slow down. It hit you suddenly and rolled in in waves that you couldn’t escape from. You couldn’t tell whether or not you wanted Dean to get off you or hold you through it, and your spasming around him sent Dean into his own orgasm. Ropes of his cum shot into you, causing your own orgasm to intensify. You whined and writhed around, feeling the ecstasy would never end. It became almost painful, and Dean did his best to soothe you through it. He let you guide him to where you needed him to touch you or not touch you, and you were grateful for this rare moment of gentleness from him. 

Still inside you, Dean held you against his chest as your orgasm finally subsided. 

“How was that?” he smirked down at you. 

You playfully shoved him away. 

***

Later that night, still in that same position with Dean— you against his chest with his semi-hard cock inside you— your breathing became so deep that you thought Dean assumed you’d gone to sleep. 

“I love you,” Dean admitted. 

Your heart nearly stopped. You looked up to him, a flurry of emotions swirling inside you. “You do?” 

He nodded. “Thought you were sleeping, honestly, but I’m glad you heard it anyway—”

You cut him off with a deep kiss, hugging him to you. You kissed all over his face, and his boyish giggle was what finally made you stop kissing him. “I love you,” you told him. 

“I know.”

“Oh, my god, you did not just Star Wars me,” you scoffed playfully. 

“Oh, c’mon, you had to know I would,” Dean replied, nudging his nose with yours. 

***

The next day, you and the brothers headed to meet the man who’d barely survived the scuff with the werewolf. When you arrived, the man was apparently expecting you to be the sketch artist. 

Much to the brothers relief, your skill with a pen came in quite handy. However, the person who’d killed his brothers was just… human. Interestingly enough, he also had a Wile E. Coyote tattoo. Quite comically, the situation reminded you of the Three Little Pigs story. 

You said as much to the brothers when you left the hospital.

“(Y/N), that’s fucked up,” Sam remarked. 

“I’m sorry! I know it is! But think about it,” you replied, wincing, “three brothers who work at a construction site? Mauled by a guy with a Wile E. Coyote tattoo?”

“I don’t remember the wolf having a fuckin’ cartoon tattoo, sweetheart,” Dean snorted. 

“Whatever. Just thought it was funny,” you shrugged, shoving Dean’s shoulder. “Anyway, what’d you find out from the doc?”

“Not much,” Dean responded, “they were D.O.A. at the scene. He did give me the lowdown on the coroner's report.”

“Lemme guess,” Sam cut him off, “their hearts were missing.”

Dean sighed. “Nope. But chunks of their kidneys, lungs, and intestines.”

“Oh, ew,” you grimaced. 

“Yeah; definitely not werewolf behavior.”

“So, what? Demon? Attacker could've been possessed,” the brunet suggested. 

“Yeah, but that guy said the dude stopped halfway through the attack. Why would a demon do that?” you challenged. 

“I think that, uh…” Sam trailed off. “Could've... Yeah, I got nothing.”

“Me, neither,” said Dean. 

***

That night, you and the brothers had gone your separate way for the evening. Dean, of course, was still sharing a room with you. 

“Hey, I meant to ask you,” Dean began, “were you… okay with last night?”

You smiled lopsidedly at him. “Yeah, I was.” You appreciated his concern with hurting you or retraumatizing you. You supposed that was one of the reasons he was so helpful to you through all this, and he was likely the reason you were able to be intimate with someone a little under five months after the attack. Had that atrocity happened to you prior to meeting Dean, you were sure your situation would’ve had a vastly different outcome. 

You snapped yourself out of your thoughts and began to apply lotion to your legs sitting on the edge of the bed. “Are you and Sam ever gonna talk about your seriously unfinished business?”

“I told him not to bring it up again. So no. And I’d prefer if we didn’t, either,” Dean said sharply. 

“Well, frankly, I don’t give a fuck what you’d prefer. You need to apologize to him,” you told him. 

“Why?” he scoffed. 

“Because I said so,” you stated, throwing the phrase he’d used in his fight with Sam back at him. 

He half-chuckled but was still clearly annoyed.

“See? Not so good of a reason, is it?”

Dean barely gave you time to finish your remark before he was speaking up again. “Why do you even care?” 

“Because I care about you and Sam. And I have to share a car with you two for the foreseeable future. I’d rather you not wanna kill each other until the end of the line,” you jested, putting the jar of lotion on the nightstand next to you. 

Dean lounged against the pillow with his head propped up on the crook of his elbow on the headboard. You shifted yourself to where you were sitting cross-legged next to his hips, facing him. 

“Hey, I don’t wanna keep talking about this every day of our lives till you get dragged to Hell—”

“Good,” he cut you off gruffly, “me neither.”

“—but I’m also not gonna pretend like these discussions aren’t important. I need you to be honest with me and yourself. You are scared of going, and that’s okay—”

“Oh, god—” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Hey,” you said, pushing his chin back towards you. “I wasn’t done. But I need you to be honest with me, or this doesn’t work.” You gestured between the two of you as you spoke. “I don’t need you to be tough all the time. I just need you to keep it real with me.”

“What difference does it make? I still go to Hell when this is over anyway,” Dean replied. 

“But maybe you’d be able to enjoy living a little bit more if you’d just let me in,” you said, cupping his cheek. 

Dean thought for a moment before he kissed the inside of your palm. “You’re right,” was all he could say. 

“I know I am,” you smirked. 

He rolled his eyes at you, but there was genuine amusement behind them. 

***

That night, you didn’t get much sleep. You stayed awake listening to the police scanner and stroking Dean’s hair as he slept soundly beside you. The police scanner held the least of your attention between the two, though. This was another one of those memories you’d hold near and dear to your heart when Dean was gone. 

Around five in the morning, the scanner finally caught your attention. Static, frantic ramblings exchanged discussing a woman that had been found staggering around coming from the woods. When deputies went with her back to the scene, they found a house where the woman’s former hiking partner and their attacker, an old woman, lay dead in the kitchen. 

You hated to wake up the man with his arms wrapped around your hips, but you knew you needed to get to the hospital the victim was being rushed to and interview her. 

“Dean,” you said softly, running your hand through his hair. “Dean.”

He hummed against your hip, tightening his hold of you. You smiled but continued to try and wake him. 

“Dean, c’mon.”

“Hmm,” he grumbled, “what time is it?”

“I’m not even gonna tell you, ‘cause you’ll kill me,” you joked, ruffling his hair. 

He lightly shoved your hand away from his head and returned his strong arms to their original positioning around you. 

“Dean! C’mon; we gotta get to the hospital. Somethin’ came in on the scanner,” you told him. 

“Can it wait till seven?” he asked you. 

“No.” You tried to wiggle out of his arms to move to the bathroom. He refused to let go of you, though, despite your protests through giggles. “C’mon, dude. We gotta get goin’. I gotta go get Sammy.”

“Ugh, fine,” he grumbled, pressing a kiss to your bare hip. 

Goosebumps formed under his lips, and you took in a sharp breath. “Okay, okay, get off me,” you said, gently pushing his arms away from you. 

***

When you arrived at the hospital, you talked to the witness who said she and her hiking partner had been drugged by an old woman who poisoned a pie she fed them. 

Interestingly enough, she also mentioned seeing a little girl with dark hair and pale skin in the window outside the home. 

Naturally, you and the Winchesters went to investigate the house. 

You took in your wooded surroundings and the strange house sitting in the middle of nowhere. You went into the house with Sam and noted the EMF meter in his hand beeping frantically. 

“(Y/N), I’m thinking you may be right about the whole fairytale thing,” Sam said. 

“Dude, I was kidding—”

“Yeah, but I’m not,” he replied. “A guy and a girl? Hiking through the woods, an old lady tries to eat 'em? That's Hansel and Gretel. And, like you said, those three brothers arguing over how to build houses, attacked by the Big Bad Wolf.”

“Like the Grimm Brothers,” you realized. “Sex, violence, cannibalism; a child’s guide to fucked-up folklore.”

“Right,” Sam nodded. “Now, it got sanitized over the years; turned into Disney flicks and bedtime stories.”

“So, why would the ghost be doing a reenactment?” you wondered aloud. “The creepy girl? Pale skin and dark hair sounds like Snow White.”

“You’re right, it does,” Sam said. “But it’s weird that she’s in the middle of another fairytale. But I’m willing to bet you top dollar she was at the construction site too.”

“Dean’s gonna be thrilled. It’s research time,” you snickered.

Sam grinned at you, and the two of you went outside to inform the other brother of your musings. 

***

However, your research came up empty. There had been very few violent childhood deaths in the area, and none of them involved a girl with black hair and pale skin. 

Dean led you and his brother across the street from the library into the park. 

“You wanna know how many little girls with black hair and pale skin that have gone missing?” Dean didn’t give you a chance to respond. “Right again. Zip. zilch, nada. Tell me you've got something good 'cause I've totally wasted the last six hours.”

Sam snorted. “Well, you ever hear of Lillian Bailey? She was a British medium from the 1930s.”

“She got a thing for fairy tales?” Dean questioned.

“Nah, trances. See she'd go into these unconscious states where, uhm, get this, her thoughts and actions were completely controlled by spirits,” the younger brother explained.

“A ghost puppet master,” Dean nodded. 

You rolled your eyes. “In layman’s terms, sure.”

“Think that's what this kid is doing? Sending wolfboy and grandma into trances, making them go kill-crazy?” Dean’s brow furrowed. 

The brunet shrugged. “Could be. You know, kinda like uh, uh, spirit hypnosis or somethin'.”

“Trances I get, but fairytale trances? That's bizarre even for us,” Dean sighed. 

You quickly grabbed Dean’s arm to keep him from stepping on a bullfrog sitting in your path, croaking. 

“Yeah, you're right. That's completely normal,” Sam remarked, looking down at the frog.

“Alright, maybe it is fairytales. Totally messed-up fairytales. Wanna kiss the frog, princess?” Dean looked over at you smirking.

“Fuck no,” you grimaced. You turned to see a pumpkin sitting on the porch of a home. “Huh,” you said. 

“Yeah? It's close to Halloween,” Dean shrugged. 

“No, dude, Cinderella,” you continued. “Pumpkin turns into a coach, and the mice become horses.”

Dean chuckled. 

“What?” you asked.

“I dunno, just never pegged you for the fairytale type. You’re a little rough around the edges compared to the Disney princesses.”

“I’ll try not to take offense to that,” you joked, “but I was a little girl once; y’know that, right?” You picked the lock on the house and led the brothers inside. 

It was completely quiet, and you and the Winchesters wordlessly decided to split up. 

You moved toward the kitchen, and someone inside apparently heard you. 

“Help! I'm in here!” a voice called. 

“Shh, shh, hey!” you said, rushing into the kitchen. There was a teenage girl handcuffed to the oven. You immediately set to work picking the lock on the cuffs. “It’s okay, I got you,” you told her. 

The girl was crying, and her blonde hair was a complete mess. “You have to help me. She's a lunatic.”

“What happened?” you asked quietly.

“My step mom, she just freaked out, screamed at me, beat me. Chained me up,” she explained, sniffling.

“Where is she now?” you asked. 

“I don't know.”

You looked up at a shadow behind you to see the little girl with dark hair peeking out from behind the kitchen door. When she noticed you saw her, she turned and left. 

You turned back to the teenager and told her you’d be right back, and she nodded. 

You walked into the living room, and the little girl was gone. 

Discouraged, you turned around to go back to the kitchen. Surprisingly, the girl was standing just behind you. 

“Who are you?” you asked. 

She said nothing, simply looking at you with sad eyes, and then she disappeared again. You looked down where she stood to find a red apple. “Hi, Snow.”

***

You sat on the hood of the Impala next to Dean, who played with the apple. Sam headed up to you with his hands in his pockets. “Paramedics picked up Cinderella,” he said. 

“That's good,” Dean said. He tossed the apple to Sam. 

“So, looks like my Snow White theory checks out,” you noted. 

“Snow White? Ah, I saw that movie. Or the porn version anyway; 'cause there was this wicked stepmother? Woo, she was wicked,” Dean grinned. 

You lightly slapped his shoulder and gave a warning glare. “There is an evil stepmother. And she tries to kill Snow White with a poison apple. But the apple doesn’t kill her; she just falls into a deep sleep. So it’s like she’s dead.”

Sam tossed the apple to you, and you took out your knife. You sliced a piece of the apple off, and the apple began to ooze an acid-like fluid into your hand. You threw it to the ground, mumbling, “Gross.”

***

Once back at the hospital, the nurse informed you there were no comatose little girls. All of their comatose patients were either old men or Callie, who was around sixteen years old. 

“Yeah, it's so sad,” the nurse explained. “And poor Dr. Garrison, he just… won't give up on her.”

“Is Callie one of his patients?” Sam asked. 

She shook her head. “No. His daughter.”

Exchanging a brief glance with Sam, you and the Winchesters politely thanked the nurse before heading to Callie’s room. Sadly, you looked on as Dr. Garrison read a book to his daughter. 

Squinting at the book, you were able to make out the book he was reading to her was Little Red Riding Hood.

Dr. Garrison then noticed you were there and stepped outside the room to talk to you. “Detectives. Can I help you?”

“We just... heard that Callie is your daughter,” Dean said.

“And we wanted to say how very sorry we are,” Sam finished. 

Dr. Garrison cleared his throat. “Well, uh. Thank you. If you'll excuse me.”

“Oh, heading this way?” Dean quirked a brow. “We'll walk with you. How long's Callie been like that?”

“We don't mean to intrude,” you clarified. 

“We can't possibly understand how hard it must be for you seeing her like this,” Sam added. 

The doctor sighed. “It's not easy. She's uh, been here since she was eight years old.”

“That's when she was poisoned?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah. Swallowed, uh, bleach,” he explained. “Never figured out how she got her hands on the bottle. My wife found her, uh, brought her to the ER here and I was on call.”

“Your wife was uh, was that Callie's stepmother?” Dean asked. 

Dr. Garrison stopped walking and looked at Dean strangely. “Actually, yes. How'd you know that?”

The older brother shrugged. “Lucky guess.”

“Well, Julie was the only mother that uh, Callie ever knew. My wife passed away last year and, uh… it's just my daughter and me now.” He paused for a moment, becoming quite choked up. “She's all I've got left. Um, excuse me. I've gotta get back to work.”

You watched as the doctor moved down the hall, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. 

Sam tapped you to turn you around and led you and Dean back down the hall. 

“Well, you're right. It's Snow White in spades,” Dean said to you. “Yep. Step-mom poisons the girl, puts her into a deep sleep. What's the motive, you think?” 

“Could be like Mischa Barton. Sixth Sense, not the O.C.,” Dean corrected himself.

Sam seemed confused. “What?”

“Hey, you know fairy tales, I know movies,” Dean commented. “She played the pasty ghost. You know the, uh, remember the mom had that thing you know, where you keep the kid sick so you get all the attention?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, uh, Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy. Huh, could be.”

“So, say all these years, Callie's been suffering silently because nobody knows the truth about what mommy dearest did?”

“And after all this time her spirit just gets angrier and angrier, until it finally just starts lashing out.”

“I’d be pretty pissed to if I was sixteen and still having to listen to my dad read me fuckin’ fairytales,” you added. “It's enough to drive anybody nuts.”

“Okay, but how are we gonna stop her?” Sam questioned. “I mean, Callie's stuck here; her father's keeping her body alive.”

“It does make it a bit hard to burn the bones,” Dean mumbled.

“Ya think?” you deadpanned. 

“Coming in!” Someone called from the double doors across the hall from you. You watched as EMTs rushed an old woman in on a stretcher. “Seventy-two year old female, sustained multiple lacerations and puncture wounds. BP is eighty over forty and falling. Sinus tachycardia.”

“Is that a bite?” a doctor asked. 

“Looks like she was mauled by a mad dog or, maybe a wolf?”

“What was the last story Dr. Garrison was reading Callie?” Dean asked rhetorically. 

You answered anyway. “Good ole Little Red.”

***

The three of you hung around asking the EMTs and policemen that had responded to the scene questions after the grandmother had been pronounced dead. You found out from the policemen that the woman had a granddaughter. 

“I’ll stay here,” you told the boys in a hushed voice. “You two go stop the Big Bad Wolf.” You handed the paper with the address of the granddaughter’s home on it over to Dean, who nodded. 

“What about you?” Sam asked. 

“I’m gonna try to stop Callie,” you said. 

Both boys seemed to understand what you meant, even though you weren’t quite sure how to handle this properly yourself. 

You immediately set to work searching the corridors for Dr. Garrison. Finally, you found him. “Hi! I need to speak with you,” you announced, approaching him. 

“Detective. What can I do for you?” he asked. 

“There’s no easy way to say this, but it’s about Callie,” you said sheepishly. 

“My daughter? What about her?” The doctor furrowed his brows at you. 

“What happened to Callie wasn’t an accident,” you explained. “And Callie’s been trying to tell you that.”

“I don’t have time for this. Stay the hell away from me and my daughter.” Dr. Garrison stormed away from you and toward Callie’s room. 

You followed, hot on his heels. “Think about it, man, how’d she get her hands on the bleach? Why would she drink so much of something like that?” You slipped into the room behind the doctor as he reached for the phone on the wall. 

“I’m calling security.”

You clamped your hand over the phone to stop him. “Nope. You’re smart. Think about it. If you don’t listen to me, Callie’s gonna hurt somebody else.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” the doctor cried. 

“You're gonna think I'm crazy,” you sighed, “but just understand me. Your daughter Callie is still here. She's a spirit.”

Dr. Garrison’s panic suddenly calmed, and he turned to his daughter’s bed sadly. “So you've seen her too.”

You were shocked. “Wait, you called me a lunatic, and you’ve been seeing her, too?”

“I sensed her,” Dr. Garrison sniffed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Callie. Her presence, her scent. I even saw her standing at the foot of my bed but I never believed it, I thought I was dreaming, I—” 

You shook your head. “Not a dream. She looks like she did when she was eight, right? She’s been trying to talk to you.” Dr. Garrison sighed. “You're not a cop are you?”

You shook your head again, pursing your lips together. 

“Then, who are you?”

“Meh, I know a thing or two about this stuff,” you shrugged. “And I also know that your wife was the one to do this to Callie.”

“And how the hell would you know that?!”

“Because Callie told me,” you replied simply. “What?!” Dr. Garrison exclaimed. “My wife loved Callie. So how is— how is that possible?”

“I don’t know. But it is,” you said. 

He got up from the bed and began to pace. “No. No I— I don't believe you.”

“Look, dude, believe whatever you want. But your daughter’s pissed. And rightfully so. Nobody’s listening to her. Listen to your damn daughter.”

Dr. Garrison took a deep breath, then nodded. “Callie? Callie, it's Daddy,” he called into the room. “It's me, Daddy. Is it true? Mommy did that to you? I–I know I wasn't listening before, but I'm listening now. Daddy's here. Please honey, is– is there any way that you can tell me?” 

The doctor looked back at you, and you nodded to the space beside him where Callie’s spirit stood.

Dr. Garrison turned, and tears immediately flooded his eyes at the sight of his child. “Is it true?”

Callie’s spirit nodded.

“Oh— I'm so sorry, baby. But listen to me,” Dr. Garrison begged through his tears. “You gotta stop what you're doing, okay? You're hurting people. I know everything now. I know the truth. It's time for you to let go. It's time for me to let you go.” He turned back to the body in the hospital bed. The doctor leaned down to the girl and caressed her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he cried. 

Callie’s monitor flatlined. 

***

That night, as Dean slept soundly in your shared bed, you were sat at the table by the window; the journal in front of you only illuminated by the moonlight. 

You paperclipped the sketch you’d done for the surviving construction worker of the man who’d attacked him and his brothers into your journal next to the spot where you wrote your latest excerpt. 

“As much as I hate to admit it,” you inked, “some part of me believes everything happens for a reason. I’m not big on the whole ‘faith’ thing, but I’ve always thought that. And I can’t help but wonder if Callie’s case is, like, some sort of astral allegory to my situation with Dean. Maybe I’m supposed to let him go. Maybe he was just supposed to be with me for a short time, and I’m supposed to just move on.

“And that fucking sucks. And I can’t accept that. It’s weird; a lot of the cases I work parallel my actual life. And I frequently try to ignore that fact. But this one is really just beating me over the head with possible ‘hidden meaning.’ 

“But then, I think, if everything happens for a reason, and nothing is coincidence, then somebody’s gotta be pulling the strings here, right? Some sort of fucked-up cosmic being is using my life for his twisted entertainment. It’s using Dean going to hell for the sake of a good fucking storyline or something stupid like that. I don’t understand. I thought ‘god’s plan’ was supposed to be good? I thought he had ‘intentions to prosper us, never to harm us’?

“Anyway. I feel like I’ve thoroughly hashed out my feelings on religion too many times before. At this point, I’m completely over the concept of god. If he is real, I hope he fucking chokes.”

You put your pen down when a blinding light abruptly hit the corner of your eye. You opened the curtains a little more to see the Impala beginning to move out of the parking lot. 

Sam had driven you and Dean back from the hospital, and he brought the keys with him to his room. You assumed that was no accident. 

“What are you doing, Samuel,” you muttered, staring after the car.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[loveinhawkins]

There isn’t a strike of lightning, no grand epiphany that clues Steve in.

It just comes down to this: he knows Dustin Henderson.

Knows how he looks when confronted with a problem he desperately wants to solve.

“Fuck this,” he’s saying through gritted teeth, pushing down hard on the gaping wound across Steve’s abdomen; he’s doing everything right, Steve thinks with pride, but it’s not enough.

It’s not his fault.

Steve says as much.

But Dustin isn’t listening; he’s just muttering to himself, “Not again,” over and over.

And Steve suddenly feels like he did when dropping the quarter into The Indiana Flyer—the moment just before the song played, already knowing what he would hear.

“Not again?” Steve asks very quietly.

Dustin’s mouth snaps shut. His face is chalk white, and there’s more than just fear in his eyes; there’s guilt too, guilt and a responsibility he should never have to bear.

Steve wants to take it from him.

He lifts his hand, grunting with the effort, and ruffles Dustin’s hair. “Oh, bud,” he murmurs, “you’ve kept trying, huh?”

Dustin’s eyes fill with tears.

Steve tries to hush him, breathing turning shallow from the pain.

“Hey, you—you’ve g-gotta hand it to me, man,” Steve says through a faint smile. “Was… on the right track, y’know? O-obsessed with clocks.”

Dustin gasps out a laugh. It ends on a sob.

“Shut up,” he says, and that’s all—no clever comeback, nothing, even though he always has one.

Steve’s heart breaks for him.

“How many times?” Steve says, but he doesn’t need a reply; he knows enough just from the way Dustin is shaking.

“I—” Dustin swallows, shakes his head. “I don’t…” Oh, Steve thinks, his kid is tired.

“C’mere.” He cups the back of Dustin’s head. “Everyone… everyone else make it?”

Dustin starts to cry.

It’s an answer of its own.

“Shh. Hey. That’s… you can stop now.” Steve pats the back of Dustin’s hand, stills the pressure on his wound. “Listen. Just… just let it run this time. Hey, it’s okay, Dustin. It’s okay.”

“It’s n-not okay, Steve, how can you—”

“Shh,” Steve says again, and maybe this is as much for him as it is for Dustin; he doesn’t want their last conversation to be a fight. He looks into Dustin’s eyes. Smiles. “Christ, I’m so proud of you.”

It doesn’t cover everything he wants to say; there’s not enough time.

I loved growing up with you. I’m sorry. I wanted to be there for you forever.

“Fuck you,” Dustin says, young and angry and so afraid. “Don’t say you’re proud of me, asshole, just don’t—”

Don’t go.

“Okay, fine. You’re a smartass,” Steve drawls, and Dustin lets out a choked giggle before grief takes over again.

“God,” he says, “this isn’t fucking fair. I sh-shouldn’t have to choose—this is—”

“Bullshit,” Steve agrees. “That’s not on you, man. Not your fault if the game’s rigged.”

Dustin closes his eyes.

It’s not so bad, Steve tells himself. He can just… rest for a couple seconds, tell Dustin to get outta here, then…

A faint chime.

Dustin’s eyes open. There’s a sudden gleam to them, shining through the fatigue. Determination.

Hope, despite everything.

“Well then,” Dustin says, “s’a good thing I’m a smartass.”

And then he’s running.

Steve manages to lift his head up with a cry, gets to see Dustin reach a grandfather clock ensnared with vines, because of course he’s not gonna listen to him, he’s such a little shit, and Steve loves him so much—

Dustin reaches up to the glass in front of the clock face, smashes it with his hand.

The world turns white.

The last thing Steve sees is Dustin turning to him with a shaky grin, mouthing, “One more.”

And Steve’s still terrified, but he also thinks of the world’s most stubborn, brilliant kid with a wonky compass, of how many times do I have to be right on the money before you guys just trust me?

It’s a walk along the railroad tracks, stumbling into each other’s lives; it’s just get ready, and you die, I die; it’s being trapped under Starcourt, and Steve left with the one thing that all the drugs, all the pain in the world could not take away from him.

The absolute faith that Dustin would figure something out.

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 68 | Part 69 | Part 70

Lmao nice.

Side note- I know I’ve been more active on Tumblr as of recently, though I haven’t been posting more of this fic. I think I needed that hiatus more than I thought I did. Trying to keep up the posting schedule I had was draining me too much, and I was overwhelmed. So I’m going to do things a little different after this fic. For starters, if you’re not following #starambles, please do if you want to keep up with what I’m writing. That’s my writing tag. I also link everything in my masterlist. I’ll have separate fic tags for each multi-chapter fic, but I will no longer be doing taglists. This does not apply to IISS: I will complete this fic with the taglist it’s amassed. However, I will no longer be adhering to my previous schedule. Instead I will post whenever I’m ready to. It may take a while, but I figure if it’s this or no more IISS, the answer would be this. If you would like to be removed from the taglist, that’s completely fine; just let me know! Also someone please confirm this tagged you in the correct way. Thank you for understanding.

Steve takes stock of himself, smiles a little as he says, “I am, yeah.” He’s a little surprised, but only a little. Eddie’s proven himself great at getting Steve out of his head. “Thank you.”

Eddie gently squeezes his hand. “Wanna stay up here a little longer, before we face the circus downstairs?”

Steve hums. “You can go back down, if you want.”

“You do that a lot.”

Steve blinks. “What?”

“You do that a lot. You put everyone else’s comfort before your own.”

Steve shrugs. “I’m good at going without. I don’t need a lot.”

Eddie leans his head back with a sigh. “I’ve got a feeling going back in time will change that. Now you’ve got me and Alli to tell you when you’re being a self-sacrificing idiot.”

Steve winces. Covers it up with a laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Eddie looks at him, brows furrowed. “What?”

Steve shakes his head. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not. Steve.”

Steve tilts his head back, squeezes his eyes shut. “Just. It won’t make sense, in this time, because half of it hasn’t happened yet, but you’ve known Dustin for all of a day and I’m willing to bet you already know how he’d act when I don’t know something he does. And-” he takes a breath. It only stutters a little. “Nancy. It was- she meant it in a sweet way, y’know? But she’d tell me, you’re an idiot, Steve Harrington. And… I know I’m not the smartest. I know there’s obvious things that I miss all the time. And I can only blame so much of it on the concussions, y’know? But at the same time… I’m not actually stupid. Impulsive, maybe, sometimes, but I do have a brain that actually works most of the time. So.” He shrugs. “I dunno. I just don’t like being called an idiot.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. Sorry, Stevie.”

“‘S okay. You didn’t know.”

“No, but I should know better than to call people stupid. Wayne would box my ears for that. In fact, I think I’ll go downstairs right now, ask him to remind me.” He makes to get up, but Steve, laughing, pulls him back down.

“Don’t you dare,” Steve chuckles. “I like your ears un-boxed, thank you.”

“Okay,” Eddie agrees. “I’m not gonna call you that again. How’s asshole sound? Self-sacrificing asshole has a nice ring to it.”

Steve collapses in giggles. “I guess if I deserve it.”

“You do,” Eddie promises him, then grumbles to himself. “Trying to get me to go downstairs, I swear.”

Steve giggles some more. “Okay, I get it,” he swears. “I’d like to stay up here for a few more minutes, then we can go back downstairs.”

“Okay.” Eddie grins at him. “I’ve got a couple ideas on how we could spend a few more minutes.”

“Oh?” Steve asks, leaning closer. “And what would that be?”

“I think you know,” Eddie murmurs, close enough to Steve that he’s practically speaking into Steve’s mouth.

Neither of them mind, clearly, because in the next second they’re kissing, Steve’s hands on Eddie’s shoulders for stability, Eddie’s hands gently stroking Steve’s back, up and down, up and down. He moves out a little and grabs at Steve’s hips, and Steve hums into his mouth. Eddie grins into the kiss, so in retaliation Steve twines a hand into Eddie’s hair.

Eddie gently bites Steve’s tongue, and Steve holds in the noise that wants to come out. He gently pulls back instead. “Eddie,” he murmurs. “We should stop.”

Eddie sighs and rests his forehead on Steve’s collarbone. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Steve snorts. “I’m not. I like what we just did. But I also know we should get back downstairs soon.”

Eddie hums in agreement. “Yeah. Lemme just sit here for a minute and think about, like, grandmas with dentures, or something.”

Steve laughs. “That’s probably a good idea,” he admits. He shifts, rests his back against the bed again, sighs. Smiles when Eddie grabs his hand again. “I’m glad you’re here with me.” He pauses, just long enough for Eddie to start to fidget, before finishing with a smile. “Here at the end of all things, Eds.”

Eddie groans and flops over on top of Steve. “And you know Lord of the Rings? Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Fly?” Steve asks, which causes Eddie to laugh.

“Nah,” he says, rolling so his head is pillowed on Steve’s lap. “I think you could just ask gravity not to work and it would let you fly.”

Steve snorts and cards his fingers through Eddie’s hair. “I think you’re biased.”

“I can be biased and right.”

Steve just hums. “Your hair is surprisingly soft.”

Eddie blinks. “Um. Thanks?”

Steve chuckles. “I just mean it’s surprising because of how frizzy it is.

Eddie snickers. “You want to take care of it, don’t you?”

“So bad,” Steve agrees, also laughing. “Your choice, though.”

Eddie smiles. “Maybe once the chaos has calmed down?”

“Sure.” Steve sighs. “Ready to go downstairs?”

“I’m ready whenever you are.”

Steve smiles. “Then let’s go.”

Eddie rolls off of him so Steve can stand. He then offers Eddie a hand up.

“Wait,” Steve requests, right as Eddie’s reaching for the doorknob.

Eddie pulls back, turns to Steve. “Yeah?”

“Kiss first?”

“Kiss always,” Eddie agrees, and happily leans in.

After they pull apart, there’s a knock at the door, and a tentative voice. “Steve? Eddie?”

It’s Dustin.

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[schemmentis]

Somethin' Stupid - Pt. 3

Part 1 / Part 2

Summary: The end of senior year, graduation, and the beginning of your last summer before college.

WC: 3.9k

Italian-American Translations: Basta - Enough, Madonn' - My god, boombotz - idiots

“I think I’m gonna break up with Joey.” You look up from your notebook where you’ve been writing your valedictorian speech. Melissa had been right; you’d secured that spot in your class. You take a moment to gaze at your best friend sitting across from you at your kitchen table. 

It’s a Friday evening, with only a week of your senior year left. Graduation less than two weeks away. You stare at Melissa, trying to figure out where this is coming from. She hasn’t looked you in the eye since you’ve looked up. She’s biting her lower lip and looking for all the world like she’s looking at one of the last pieces of homework you’ll have to do. At least for high school.

You think maybe it’s nerves. Mel certainly looks nervous. Maybe with college coming up she isn’t sure she and Joey will make it through the life changes of it. Except you know how she feels about Joey. She gets annoyed with him and loves to act like an over exasperated partner that’s been married to him for years. You know she almost never is though, not really. When she is, she tells you. This is the first time she’s mentioned anything about breaking up with him.

“Why?” You finally ask, keeping your eyes on your redhead as she finally meets your eye.

She shrugs, leaning against the table. “He’s still hanging out with Mikey and everything… I don’t think it’s right.”

You sigh, setting down your pen. “Mel,” You start as you reach across the table to grip her hands. “Do you love Joey?”

“Yeah but if he’s going to keep hangin’ out with that asshole—”

You squeeze her hands to get her to stop. “Look at me.” You say softly as she had looked away as she started on the tangent you interrupted. You wait until her green eyes are looking at you once more. “Forget all the shit with Mikey.” You say. “I’m not askin’ about that. I’m askin’ how you feel about Joey. You love him, right?”

“Right.” Melissa answers after a moment keeping herself from going on the tangent again at your request. You know she does. You’ve seen it go from her crush on him early junior year to actual affection once they started dating. To now, it's obvious to anyone with eyes around them how much Mel loves him. She’s sarcastic and pretends to be annoyed but she can’t hide the way she looks at him or doesn’t hesitate to do anything he needs. 

“And you wanna be with him? Probably marry him, whenever he gets the nerve to propose, right?” You ask, despite a small ache in your ribs. You blame it on leaning over the table and the wood pressing into them. It isn’t a secret. It hasn’t been since Melissa and Joey’s relationship got serious after they’d been together a year. You imagine it won’t be right away that Joey will propose. Maybe a couple years into college but you know it’s coming. Just like you know Mel’s answer. 

Another long drawn out moment before Mel is nodding across from you. “Yeah. I do.”

“Then you don’t wanna break up with him and you’re just gonna make yourself miserable.” You say, squeezing her hands one more time before you draw them away with a shrug. “The Mikey stuff?” You sigh as you reclaim your pen. “It sucks, yeah. But whatever. Joey was never really my friend, y’know? We got to know each other because you spend time with both of us. It’s not worth breaking up with Joey over the fact that he still wants to hang out with Mikey.”

You both have plans for the next few years. You’ve talked about them plenty in the build up to this year, senior year, and over the course of it. You know Mel is going to go into education, being a teacher is what she’s wanted to do since eighth grade. It hasn’t changed since. She’s planning on her own house in Philly as soon as she can. She’s told you about the little garden she can’t wait to have out back. Fresh produce grown right in her backyard. She’s planning on marrying Joey. She hasn’t said anything about kids but that wouldn’t surprise you. Her family is traditionally big and you know as much as Mel complains about them; they’re the most important to her.

That’s Melissa’s five year plan. College to get her teaching degree, teacher’s assistant until she can get her own position. Save for the house and the garden. Marry Joey. Start their life together, whatever it looks like. You know she doesn’t really care if Joey wants kids or doesn’t. What’s important to her is life with Joey. 

Your five year plan? You don’t have one past your career in social work. That much of a plan has always been more than enough for you. College for your bachelor’s. Start working at the entry level for experience while you go for your master’s. You still haven’t decided if afterwards you’ll go for your doctorate or a phd since they do have different applications for them and the jobs available. You figure though that part of it can wait until you get there. 

The relationship part of it? Well, you’ve just never worried about it too much. You always figured it would find you when it was meant to. If it was meant to. And if it didn’t? Well, you kind of figured you’d be alright either way.

“Maybe you’re right.” Melissa says with a huff across from you. The usual sound that accompanies her admitting she isn’t right. “Maybe I don’t wanna break up with Joey but I’m pissed he’s still hanging around with Mikey after what happened.”

You shrug, glancing back up to her. “Like I said, Mel, it’s okay. Joey and I weren’t really friends anyhow.”

“Maybe not but you’re my best friend and his best friend hurt you. If he cares so much about me shouldn’t that extend to you? Hell, even forget all that, it's just basic human decency!”

“Don’t get me wrong, I agree. You know I do, Mel. But…it doesn’t change how you feel about him and you can’t make Joey do somethin’ he doesn’t wanna do. It isn’t…it’s not worth ending everything with him over when you still care about him so much. It ain’t worth making yourself miserable over.”

Suddenly Melissa is out of her chair and rounding the table. Before you can even ask she’s throwing herself into your space with enough force it jostles you as her arms wrap around you tightly. “Just know that nobody messes with my girl and gets away with it. Nobody. I won’t let nobody get away with hurtin’ ya, not while I’m breathin’, kid.”

You blink the tears away from your eyes that are welling. You and Melissa haven’t really talked about what happened since prom. You don’t really want to. It happened and you want to move on from it. With her arms gripping you tightly and her words though, you can’t help the swelling of emotions for your best friend. You shift to wrap your arms around her to match her embrace. “Thank you,” is all you can manage to breathe out.

Melissa doesn’t drop her grip around you for a long, drawn out moment. Her arms squeeze around you to reaffirm her presence. It’s only when she hears the front door open and Kristen Marie’s loud entrance that she slowly pulls away. She kisses the top of your head, a hand squeezing your shoulder before she retreats to the other side of the table.

“‘Sup losers.” Kristen Marie says as she strides into the kitchen just as Melissa sits back down. “Mel, where’s Ma?”

“Do I look like I know?” Melissa says, shooting a glare to her sister. 

“Geez, I was just askin’.” Kristen Marie mutters. She glances at you, smiling. “Hey, Y/N, congrats on being valedictorian.”

Melissa’s glare at her sister only hardens at her brightening once she notices you. This is how it’s played out with the Schemmenti sisters since second grade. They gripe at each other and annoy each other. Kristen Marie purposefully cheery at you whenever she sees you strictly because it gets her sister to glare at her like she currently is.

“Thanks.” You answer with a small shake of your head at the Schemmenti Staredown happening across from you. 

“Okay,” Melissa says a little loudly. “You can go now, Kristen Marie.”

“Hello? I’m having a conversation with Y/N, not you, Melissa Ann. Please have some manners. Ma taught us better, you know.” 

“Oh my god,” Melissa grumbles, getting up again to start shoving her sister out of the kitchen. “Go away, we’re busy. No time for conversations with little sisters, get out.”

In the usual perfect timing of any Schemmenti, their mother arrives just then. Stepping through the side door of the house into the kitchen. She raises an eyebrow, seeing her two daughters that are now in the doorway between kitchen and living room. By now, they’ve slipped into their usual insult trading tirade. It’s rapid fire and littered with Italian you only know from practically living in this house as your second home.

“Hey! Basta, you two!” Somehow, Mrs. Schemmenti manages to be louder than her two daughters. As soon as her voice is filling the kitchen, the two sisters freeze entirely. "Madonn’ you’d think I was raising boombotz ‘round here.”

You amusedly watch the two sisters pull away from each other. Each murmuring something along the lines of ‘sorry, Ma.’ Melissa drops back into her seat across from you as Kristen Marie makes for the stairs to retreat to her room. When she looks at you, she frowns. She glances to ensure her mother won’t see before flipping you off in return for you clearly being amused at her getting in trouble. It only makes you laugh, and for as much as Melissa tries to hold her glare at you; she starts smiling.

The next time you see Melissa is at school, with Joey. They have their arms linked as they pass you at your locker between periods. She yanks on his arm to get him to stop so you can talk about the new underclassmen gossip she’s heard. She makes you promise to sit with them at lunch. You do. Joey doesn’t seem uncomfortable but he does seem…awkward. You pay him little mind, focused instead on enjoying a meal with your best friend between classes. Before Joey leaves for his next period Melissa grasps his wrist, firmly reminding him that it’ll be three of you ditching your last day next week and for your senior week trip after graduation. 

“You don’t need to do that.” You say once you look away from the back of Joey’s football jersey as he leaves the cafeteria.

“Yes, I do.”

You sigh. At least Melissa isn’t playing the game of pretending not to know what you’re talking about. “I told you, it’s okay if you just wanna go with Joey for ditch day and senior week. It’s practically spring break with way more freedom; it’s fine, Mel.”

“I don’t want to go just me and Joey for senior week.” She says with a glare. Her tone has you sitting up a bit more, blinking at the redhead sitting across the table from you.

“He wants it to be just the two of us.” Melissa continues after a moment, her fingers picking at what’s left of her sandwich. Unusual enough that she wouldn’t finish lunch it’s more unusual for her to be nervously picking at the remnants. After a moment her green eyes glance back up at you. Melissa clears her throat, shifting in her seat. “He wants to have our first time at the hotel in Myrtle Beach.”

You blink again, doing your best to fight the rising heat you feel in your cheeks. You can’t tell if it’s embarrassment at the topic or the awkwardness. Or the way Melissa’s clear feeling of discomfort reminds you of Mikey and prom. “You don’t want to.” You practically whisper. It isn’t a question. You can tell.

Melissa nods. “I mean, eventually, of course I do. I just…” She sighs, suddenly seeming frustrated with herself as she brushes her hair away from her face. “I just don’t think I’m ready for that yet.” She finally admits quietly, looking back down at the food she’s picking at. “I mean, imagine if my Ma found out I slept with Joey outta wedlock? She’d have a heart-attack and then if I got pregnant… I love him, Y/N, I do, and I want to be with him like that I just…it doesn’t feel right.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with, Mel. That you don’t feel right with.”

“If you don’t come with us to South Carolina, I will.” She answers.

You bristle. You reach across the table and grip Melissa’s hands firmly between your own. You meet her gaze with your own readily when she looks back up. “If Joey ever, ever, puts his hands on you when you tell him you don’t want him to; you call me.” You say with every ounce of sincerity.

Melissa blinks at you, her eyes wide in surprise that you would imply defending her. Despite her doing exactly the same with Mikey at prom. “He wouldn’t.” She finally manages to say.

You agree, but you also see the tinge of fear in your best friend's expression. She trusts Joey, but there’s always that little bit of doubt. You both trusted Mikey too. Maybe not as much as Joey but still. You had. Yet he took advantage anyway. “If he ever does, Melissa. You call me.” You repeat as you squeeze her hands lightly.

She nods. “You know you’d be the first one to know.” She finally agrees.

“I’ll come with you on the trip if you would really feel more comfortable.” You say as you finally release her hands.

“You will? Even if Joey will be a little snot about it?”

You scoff. “I can handle Joey being an asshole.” You assure swiftly. “If you want me there, I’m there. Joey will deal with it.”

Melissa smiles, launching into filling you in on all the itinerary she’s been planning out for the trip. By the time you’re both leaving the cafeteria you’re reluctantly agreeing to her plans to take surfing lessons that Joey had vetoed before. 

Before Myrtle Beach and the senior week trip; you have to get through graduation. Which for the most part is easy. The last week of school doesn’t present anything really challenging wise from your classes. Your teachers know there’s little point in testing or quizzing your senior class by now. Though some do still attempt to get you to learn at least slightly in your last week. Others are perfectly content to wheel the television cart into the classroom and put a VHS on for your class to talk over. 

When the actual ceremony comes; you’re more nervous. You have both your mother and Melissa check your stole over your graduation gown as well as the fit of your cap multiple times. As if it wasn’t a process to ensure the correct sizes weeks ago anyhow. Still, you’ll be standing in front of your whole school for your valedictorian speech. Popularity and looks may not have been something you were ever particularly concerned with through the last four years but you’d like to avoid looking like an idiot on that scale still.

When it comes time for your speech; you feel the nerves fall away and settle into your ability to focus on what you feel is important to say. You’d worked hard on your speech; your last farewell to both your school and classmates. It also serves to say the same on behalf of your graduating class. You wanted it to resonate. Falling comfortably into the words you’d written; you aren’t certain if it does or not. You feel like you blink and you’re at the end of the speech.

Once you finish, Melissa is the only one of your graduating class that doesn’t toss her cap in the air. She’s too busy cupping her hands around her mouth and shouting her support for you. She’s still wearing the cap a few minutes later when she all but barrels into you to hug you tight. You return her grip, your smile hurting your face when she tells you how wonderful you’d done up there.

Instead of staying out like plenty of your other new graduate friends do; you go out to dinner with Melissa, both your families, and Joey, too. You stay the night at Melissa’s like a thousand other nights before, your packed suitcase repacked by the redhead who had said no to about half of what you packed. You at least convinced her to leave the sunscreen in your suitcase before the two of you went to bed.

The next morning, you’re throwing both yours and Melissa’s bags in the back of Joey’s truck where his own are already at. You hug Melissa’s mom, telling her to pass half of it along to your own and remind her you’re only gone for a week. She hugs you back just as tightly and whispers a thank you for taking care of Mel. You don’t answer the sentiment other than a small nod. A silent ‘of course, why wouldn’t I?’

You’re hardly surprised halfway through the near nine hour drive that Mel is asleep, leaning against you from her spot in the middle of the cab of the truck. You’d told her it would happen when she was nudging you awake in the middle of the night because she was too excited about getting to the beach and having a week of no responsibilities with the newfound, if temporary, freedom of graduation.

What you’re slightly surprised by is Joey, suddenly piping up from his spot in the driver’s seat. He had been content to worry about driving while you and Melissa controlled the radio, singing along a bit obnoxiously to the songs you really liked and talking over the ones that weren’t favorites. Now that Melissa is asleep, his voice fills the cab. Not loud, or trying to wake up his girlfriend but loud enough to get your attention.

“You didn’t have nothin’ better to do for senior week?”

Joey doesn’t ask it meanly, or snidely. He sounds as casual as if he was asking if you heard what the weather will be in Myrtle Beach while you’re there. Except you know his meaning. You know it’s his way of saying you should have stayed home, or that he would have preferred you had.

“Mel practically insisted I come.” You answer in a matching tone. You don’t say it any differently than if you were saying it was supposed to be sunny nearly every day you were there, and not too hot. You hope he catches the meaning you hide beneath the casual tone. 

“She can handle being said no to, y’know.” Joey answers.

“Can you?” You throw out, looking over a head of red hair to glare at Joey.

He glances away from the highway to look at you for a brief moment before he turns back to watching where he’s driving. “I’m not an asshole.” He finally answers.

You don’t answer, though you drop your glare from the side of his head. Focusing instead on the view from your passenger window.

“I love her, Y/N.” Joey says after a long bout of silence filling the truck cab.

You bite your tongue, sensing he has more he feels he needs to say.

“I know I ain’t as smart as you.” Joey continues after a moment, as you thought he might. “I didn’t get straight A’s, hell, I graduated by the skin of my teeth and we both know I cheated on a test or midterm or finals more than once.” He admits.

“What’s your point, Joey?” You sigh, looking back to him.

“I see how you look at her, y’know?”

Your brow furrows. You had thought he was trying to plead his case about not taking advantage of Melissa. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“I ain’t a genius, but I ain’t stupid, Y/N.” He answers, glancing back to you for a few seconds again. “I wouldn’t do anythin’ Mel didn’t wanna do. Even if I’m…ready for more in our relationship. I love her. I don’t wanna mess nothin’ up.”

“Okay…?” You drag out, more confused the more Joey talks.

He meets your eyes briefly before he looks back to the road again. “I won’t give you a chance.” He finally says. Not in a mean way but just…factual. “I won’t mess up what me and Mel got. Even if it ain’t like what you have with her. It’s good, really good, and I love her.”

You sober, the furrow of your brow eases as you lean back in your seat. You suddenly understand. Joey knows what you realized at prom. Maybe he knew it before you realized it yourself. Your love for Melissa is more than friends, and maybe has always been. You sigh.

“Joey.” You start. “I’m not your competition.” You shrug. “I’m not sabotaging your relationship with Mel by being here. I’ve never tried to, and I won’t now. As long as you keep her happy, and take care of her? I’m not your competition. All I want is for Melissa to be happy and treated right. And she is. You think I don’t get my ear talked off about you all the time?”

Joey laughs. “You think she don’t do the same to me ‘bout you? Christ, I think I knew your valedictorian speech myself before you even gave it.”

In spite of yourself, you smile. Sure, there’s the smallest of stabs in your heart if you think about it for too long. What you feel and what it means. What you really want, what you’re missing out on. Except, the larger part of you feels warm. Warm with Melissa leaning against your shoulder sleeping soundly. Warm with the knowledge that even if it isn’t in the same way she does care about you deeply. Warm with the knowledge that you and Joey are just two people that love the same person. How upset can you really be when he wants exactly what you want for Melissa? Whatever she wants and needs to be happy. You can’t blame Joey for being protective of his relationship with her. You would be too if you were him. You are in your way about your friendship with her.

“You should talk to her about it yourself,” You say after a moment, “but she told me she isn’t ready for what you were wanting this trip to be.”

Joey is quiet for a long time before he nods. “Yeah. I kinda figured that one out.” He shrugs. “Just wish she woulda said that. ‘Stead of beating around the bush about it all, y’know?”

“Like I said…you should talk to Mel about it yourself. I’ll get lost on the beach for a while if you need me to.” You offer.

Joey grins and shakes his head. “Nah. Let’s just have a good week, huh? When we get back we’re gonna have to worry about being adults and all that other shit.”

“One last stupid teenage hurrah, huh?”

“Damn right.”

[piratefishmama]

Beware The Thorns | Part 1

(a NSFW multi-part ficlet)

“Who was that Eds?”

“Mind your business, shithead” Eddie pocketed his phone, he recognised the number the moment it flashed up on his work phone, a device he always had on him regardless of where he was, he could be at a FUNERAL, and he’d have that phone on him.

In this instance however, it was merely a family dinner. Well… family and the Henderson’s, so yeah. Family. He’d excused himself upstairs and answered as soon as he was out of earshot.

Evidently, he’d been followed.

“I heard you say you loved them… are you seeing someone?” Eddie tried really hard to not be insulted by his tone, a weird mixture of disturbed amazement, with just a dash of disbelief for flavour. Was it that much of a stretch to see him dating someone?

Was it that unbelievable to the person he’d practically grown up with, that he could find someone who’d like him?

Maybe it was. Didn’t mean he had to like it; his job had kept him away from actually… dating anyone.

“Maybe I am, again, mind your damn business.” Of course they didn’t know what he was, what he did to earn his money, he’d spun some lie years ago about an online business because ‘rockstar’ had to… actually have evidence, he had an actual legitimate website to keep the lie going, nothing ever really went through it, but… it worked to keep the questions at bay.

Nobody asked, and he didn’t tell, he was a grown ass adult, he didn’t NEED to tell anyone.

Dustin sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat, good… he’d have never gotten anything out of him anyway “fine, fine don’t tell me… don’t tell meee, your only brother.”

“We’re not even relat—”

“The best man at your future wedding.”

“Since when was I getting marri—”

“The Wan Kenobi to your Obi.”

“What the—”

“I am happy for you though, the both of you! I hope you’ll bring him home someday, I’m sure we’d all like to meet him” Eddie’s eyes widened… he’d never… fuck … he’d never said anyth— “What, you think you’re all crafty? C’mon Eddie, you can’t even sit normally.”

“The fuck has that got to do with anything?!”

“Y’know… gay people… they can’t sit properly… in chairs…? Is that wrong?” at least that proved that Dustin could be uncertain about some things.

“You’ve been on that stupid app again, haven’t you?” He had the decency to look guilty at the very least. “The fuck have I told you?”

“It’s dumb and addictive and I should stop, BUT IT’S HELPING ME LEARN!”

“It’s filling your head with bullshit! Fine, I’m gay, what the fuck ever. Go back downstairs for the love of all that is holy, and just give me a minute to process that you’ve been theorising my sexuality based on how I sit, and don’t you DARE tell anyone.”

“Oh, c’mon Eddie! You’re old enough to come out now, you have your own place, your own business! Plus, we all love you, no judgement here, this is a judgy free zone.”

“I will rip out your larynx and shove it up your ass if you even THINK of telling them.”

“But… how will you know if i’m thi—okay I won’t say anything, i wouldn't say anything. Not my place.” Eddie had levelled him with a look, a single, rage squint look, a look which promised imminent pain if he did not take his nosy ass and remove it from his presence, and he’d accepted that look for what it was. A promise.

Not just a threat.

“I’m gonna have to go early, my… my boyfriend, will be home tonight, the ridiculous idiot never has food in so I’m gonna go sort that out.”

“You’re buying his food for him? Eddie… that’s… he’s not just using you for money is he cause that’s really bad.”

“No dumbass, he’ll give it me back.”

“Right away?”

“YES, right away.”

“Not just promises he doesn’t intend to keep?”

“Dustin, I will brutally murder each and every one of your characters in graphic detail within five minutes of every campaign for the next year if you do not—”

“Okay!” Hands up in surrender, Dustin took a step backwards, a threat to his precious characters was no laughing matter, even if Eddie would struggle to make that kind of threat happen, the risk was there! He still had to ask “is… is he good though?” Of course, Eddie could threaten all he liked.

Dustin was his little brother, or as good as! It was his job to be insufferable.

The question however, made him think, he could pick any of them, any one of his clients to mould this imaginary boyfriend from, maybe mix and match, bring him to life from attributes of all of them, that’d be fine right? Nobody but Dustin really knew he was dating so… he wouldn’t be introducing them to him.

Perfectly coiffed brown hair… a warm smile… big, strong hands, a constellation of pretty moles dotted in places Eddie knew far too well. There was no amalgamation of faces, no mixture of personalities to make the perfect one, just a soft smile, warm hands, broad shoulders, muscle, and perfectly soft, thick brown hair… his favourite.

“Yeah… he’s… he’s great, Dustin… you’d like him” big strong softie he was, and it was so easy falling into the role of his boyfriend too, he’d been paying for that package for what felt like forever, he felt like he knew the man inside and out, like the back of his own hand.

He was the only one to have paid for that package continuously for over more than a few months, even Hagan only paid for it every now and then, never continuously. He thought Steve would have gotten tired of him by now but… It’d been two years.

Some people expected MARRIAGE after two years in a relationship.

Steve Harrington seemed to want him more and more by the day and the surprising thing, was that the thought didn’t invoke the same level of panic that he were SURE it would if anyone else were to have those wants, those needs of him.

He felt… comfortable with Steve, safe with him. Like he could show hints of himself, the real himself without the fear of losing him, of putting him off.

“You look so dopey smiling like that, y’know? You must really like him, huh?” He’d been smiling? Fuck… “Well… anyone who can make you smile like that just thinking about him is alright by me, I’ll cover for you, you can go sort his food out if you want.”

This was fine… totally completely fine. Would be better if Dustin could actually keep his mouth shut but alas. Dustin had a history of foot in mouthisms that'd gotten them into trouble after trouble after trouble years on the trot.

Eddie probably shouldn't have continued to tell him stuff, but that was his little brother so. He had to.

“Uh… yeah… yeah I like him. Thanks, I’ll… grab my coat, just tell em I feel sick or somethin so I’m goin home” he didn’t say goodbye, Dustin probably did that for him, just grabbed his coat and snuck out like he used to do as a teenager when he simply couldn’t be bothered dealing with his fathers drunk ranting about queers being put in cages.

He did have to come to one very unfortunate conclusion after that conversation though. After seeing Steve instead of a mishmash of faces, after being unable to put a random face to the title and spin it as truth.

Feelings were there. Real feelings. The mushy shit. The wants for more that he couldn’t have. The Pretty Woman syndrome without the corny and frankly rushed happy ending.

It couldn’t continue anymore, what he had with Steve had to end. Feelings… real feelings… he couldn’t have real feelings for his clients. It put his whole career on the line, his way of life gone in an instant all because his heart had to go all gooey for someone who probably didn’t even give a real fuck about him.

This was fine.

After the evening was done… he’d end it, terminate their contract. It was for the best. Steve deserved better than him anyway.

Part 3

[graysnetwork]

Imagining Wesker have a crush on you 😽

SECRET ADMIRER

Notes— I saw a story where Wesker leaves a bouquet of flowers on readers desk so this is inspired by that fic (I cannot find it which sucks) (also I’m working on requests rn)

Warnings: mention of almost dying(if you squint), reader is depicted as a women, nickname/pet name; good girl, and sweetheart.

Summary: it’s your birthday and a few gifts have been left on your desk, but there’s no name signed off in the card left for you. It seems like you have a secret admirer.

You entered the building, you were a few minutes late since you drank a bit last night, you had some drinks when it turned to 12am because it was finally your birthday, you were 24 and hopefully Jill and Chris would stop teasing you.

You knew they only teased you cause you were the rookie but it still got annoying sometimes.

Jill and Chris were smirking, and whispering to each other, you ignored them because they always talked but kept their voices quiet as to not draw attention, perhaps they were talking about an assignment?

You reached your desk and saw a bouquet of flowers, a teddy bear, and your favorite candy. You turned to Jill and Chris again and they were already staring back at you; still smirking, so you assumed that they gave you the gifts. Jill walked up to you as you were about to say thank you to the both of them “you got a boyfriend rookie?” Jill asked, your brow’s furrowed, and you were more confused than ever.

“W-what? No! I thought you guys got me these?” You told her, Jill’s smirk dropped and now she was the confused one, Chris got up from his seat, and was already chuckling “so you got a secret admirer?” Chris said. And you looked back at the gifts.

You noticed the card, you picked it up and began to read it, Jill and Chris read it as well over your shoulder and it said

“happy birthday Y/n, I hope you enjoy the gifts I got you, please don’t get too drunk today”

Chris chuckled again at the ending of the note, but you were still not laughing, you were confused and wanted an answer, who gifted you all of this?

Meanwhile Wesker was watching from afar, you had always been his favorite member, it only took him a few more months to realize that he just had a crush on you, but he denied it himself, Albert Wesker; with a crush? Nope! Not possible.

Plus you were too young for him, and it would probably be breaking rules to ask a coworker on a date, and you were probably uninterested in him.

He watched you ask Chris and Jill “are you guys serious? Like you guys didn’t get me these?” and watched them shake their heads no.

He wanted to go up to you and tell you it was from him, but that was definitely gonna end weirdly, for both you and him. So he stood there, still watching.

“Y’know what! I’ll just figure it out later! I have to finish my reports, I don’t have time to figure out who these are from” you told the two and sat down in your chair as they left to their own desks, to work on their own files.

—

Still the thought was in the back of your mind, the flowers were lovely, and the bear was cute, and the candy was nice, but you still wanted to know who this was from. you couldn’t get it out of your head the whole time you were finishing your papers.

You finished a while before six twenty and you were checking through all your reports making sure that you didn’t have anything left, Jill came up from behind and put her hands on your shoulders, “y/n, we’re going out to the bar, come with us!” She told you, you obliged and got up, “don’t forget your gifts rookie” Chris told you and walked out the door, you went back to grab your things off your desk and Jill continued to walk out.

“I’ll wait for you outside” she said before leaving, you picked up your gifts and suddenly felt a pair of eyes on you, you turned around and caught your captain walking by you, “oh, sorry you scared me sir” you apologized. He didn’t say anything and his eyes fell on your hand which we’re grabbing the flowers.

“You enjoying your gifts?” He spoke suddenly, “uhm, yeah, I wish the person had signed their name though” you said looking at the card remembering what it’s said inside.

“I was, planning on writing my name but, I thought Chris would peek and read it, so i didn’t” he said, your eyes widened, and you could feel the heat rising on your cheeks, your superior gave you these?

“It was you?” You asked, as if he hadn’t already said so. He nodded, “oh” you said, swallowing your saliva for your throat that had turned dry. “Do you like the flowers? I didn’t know what kind you’d like” he asked, “mhm” you nodded as well, this was a bit awkward for you.

“Thank you sir” you said, you wanted to try and keep this as professional as possible but it was getting incredibly hard. Seeing as you had crushing on him for quite some time now.

“Happy birthday” he told you as he wrapped his arms around and gave you a hug, a hug, was this some kind of joke? Or was this a dream? What was going on, your stone cold captain was giving you a hug, the only other time he ever gave you a “hug” was when he saved your ass from getting killed and he had to carry you.

What the fuck was going on?

“U-uhm, thank you” you repeated and hugged him back, it felt perfect, the temperature, cause you were warm and he was cold and it was the perfect balance, and you felt the heat from your cheeks start to disappear when his cold grasp was on you.

He pulled away but his arms were still around you, or, more correct, they were around your waist. And the blush came back, “i-” you barely managed to get it out before you were cut off by his lips on yours, you didn’t even know who leaned in. Let’s just say it was mutual and the two of you both wanted to go in for the kiss!

His lips on yours were amazing, felt so euphoric, and he could taste the cherry chapstick that you used. His hands let go of on another other and he placed them on either side of your hips with a firm grip. And you placed your hands on his shoulders.

You pulled away first to catch your breath, and now that you weren’t entranced by him, you thought to yourself. This had to be a dream.

There’s no way you were actually making out with your captain and he was kissing you back, were your gonna wake up in your bed and have to face him at work later? You hoped not but you were afraid this was too good to be true.

He chuckled and you were knocked you of your thoughts by his voice “you alright there sweetheart? You look a bit red there” he teased you. And you looked down to hide your face but he quickly reacted and took your face and lifted your head up to look at him. “So adorable” he said, he sounded like he was telling himself that. And your face got even more flushed and heated.

“Maybe I should get going… I don’t want Jill to ask anything” you told him, and he chuckled. He knew you just didn’t want anybody to suspect anything. Especially since you two were the only ones left inside the building.

“How about I take you to dinner? Wouldn’t want you to go to the same shitty bar again? I’ll take you somewhere nice” he asked. You were so stunned right now, you were still waiting to wake up.

“I- I don’t know Wesker-” you said, and his brows went in such a way that made him look like he was begging you to say yes.

“Yeah, I’ll go out with you” you said, your mouth moved faster than your brain, “great, now go tell Jill and the others, you have something very important to do” he ordered. “okay, I’ll go do that” you said nodding as your hands traveled down to his forearms to get out of his grip.

“Good girl” he said, and you realized right then and there, that you wanted to be praised so much by your captain.

[callsign-rogueone]

been enjoying your writings and I had a thought from the Bodhi/Darling line. And you don't have to give too much detail if it is included down the line in their story. But when Bodhi told Violet that he defend himself from an assassin butt naked in the showers, in your cannon would Darling have been with him In there? Maybe just so they can protect each other? Or would she have learned about this the same time that Violet did? Low-key I kind of hope she was in there cause personally I would have asked if he was ok, then been a little turned on after. Just saying, after reading that in IF I wanted more details... But in your universe how would this have gone down?

oooh I love this ask! I love talking about all the gfs of course, and I’m always happy to answer questions like this so thank you 💗

I saw a theory the other day that Col. Aetos is the one paying these people to keep trying to kill Bo, since canonically he’s the eldest / “most important” marked one that was at Resson (bar X/G who are graduated) and has the closest ties to Xaden. I like it. and I’m gonna roll with that theory for some of the girlfriends… hehe >:)

anyway, I had to think about this one… it might make an appearance in their storyline at a later date, but I don’t know when I’ll have time to write it all the way out so. some thoughts under a cut, since this got long.

I’m gonna say no, Darling wasn’t there.

she doesn’t see 100% of the bad stuff coming, because then we wouldn’t have a plot. more often than not she does get unexplained, impending-doom, spidey-sense type feelings when herself or one of the gang is in imminent danger, so that could have happened here. maybe she’s across the hall in the girls showers and feels it, but doesn’t know why, or maybe she doesn’t feel it at all.

either way: Sìoda and Cuir are homies. they’re the ones bonded to mated humans, not the other way around 😅 so there’s gonna be some relay there, like for all the couples (minus Peach, sorry girl): human to dragon to dragon to human communication, especially in times of urgency. so Darling could ask Sìoda to let the gang know to be on their guard, or Sìoda could casually tell her via Cuir that yeah, your man is fighting some guy in the shower, buck-naked. aaaaand he just won. all clear.

OR, her finding out when Violet does would also be a good possibility. sitting at breakfast or whenever it was (I really need to reread IF) and she takes a bite of her toast then Bo just lays it on her all casual-like. hilarious, but she’d also be upset by it. Darling feels incredibly guilty when she can’t see harm coming to her friends in time to stop it, so even though Bo handled it perfectly, she’d still feel bad, because what if… 🥺

he’d have to do some sweet-talking to comfort her, reassuring her that he’s safe. and he’d definitely bring humor into it, making some inflated remarks about how good of a fighter he is and how nobody is catching him off guard, etc. and I’m 10000% sure he’d drop some playful line like… “Y’know, if you’re worried about it happening again, you could start showering with me every day. Safety in numbers. Buddy system!” <- this said in a playful tone with a lip bite or a wink and some suggestive, not-sexy-at-all eyebrow wiggles. that’ll get a laugh out of her and have her start to feel better.

she’d decline, of course, because she’s a wingleader now and can’t break rules like that, nor does she want to shower in the boys bathroom, and she’s sure as hell not bringing him in the girls one. she might make him start bringing a knife into the shower, though.

but on that note, I do have some shower fun planned for them. Bodhi has his own room (shared with Darling) at Riorson house, with a private bathroom attached. and I bet that the shower in there has excellent water pressure.

[espresso-ships]

Idiots - Varganardi Oneshot

AHHH my very first self insert fanfiction! I usually write x reader ones, and this is the first one I write for me ashhshs Hope y'all like it!

Words: 1.8K Warnings: Hurt/comfort & lot of cussing lol (lmk if I should add something more <3)

“Can I tell you what I think?” 

Sigh.

“...What do you think?”

“That you’re in love with her.”

Silence.

“So what? What if I am, what difference does it make?”

“Tell her.”

“You make it sound so damn easy.” He scoffed.

“Nacho, it is easy. Maybe she feels the same-”

“Feels the same?? What fucking fantasy world do you live in, huh?!”

Silence, again. 

Nacho sighed and rubbed his forehead. He felt relieved that Domingo couldn’t see his face. That he couldn’t see the tears of anger or the pain in his eyes. 

“Look, I’m sorry. It’s just… Complicated.”

“I know, Nacho. But trust me. She feels the same.”

“How the hell would you know?”

Silence. Always the damn defying silence. After what felt like eternity, Domingo talked:

“Because she told me.” 

Chaos.

That’s what the mansion feels like. Drunk - or high - people everywhere. It’s a new years party, after all. The music, laughter and screams makes it feel like the house is vibrating. And the heat - from at least 50 bodies trapped together in a room with bad air conditioning, and from his own nerves. 

It feels like they’re all caged animals, locked together, waiting for tragedy. He doesn’t understand how people can enjoy being squeezed together like this - or maybe they’re all pretending. Just searching for something - someone - to fill the void.

He usually enjoys parties. He is usually one of the people dancing and laughing, with his arms thrown around a pretty stranger. Not tonight. 

Nacho fidgets with the first button to the red shirt, buttoning and unbuttoning, over and over. He has barely touched the shot in his glass. 

“Are you gonna drink that?” Domingo’s words are slightly slurred, and his grin is wide. He shouts to overvoice the music, but doesn’t seem to mind the volume. At least someone is having fun. 

“It’s all yours.” Nacho hands his friend the glass, and he empties it in only a matter of seconds. He grimaces. “You’re gonna be sick, Dom.” 

His friend rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, dad. Don’t look so bitter, man!”

Domingo nudges his friend, who rolls his eyes in return. Yet, he chuckles. His eyes wanders across the room, hoping to see his tall friend amongst the sea of people. No sign of her, so far.

“Relax, dude. She’ll be here soon!” 

I really hope so. He still has to apologize to Laura, after that ridiculous argument they had last week. 

“What did you two even fight about this time?”

Nacho’s mind goes back to the phone call with Domingo yesterday.

“It wasn’t a fight, damnit.” He sighed. “Just a… Disagreement.”

“About…?” 

“About her shit-ex. I told her she was stupid if she forgave them after everything they put her through.”

“And?” 

“I sounded too angry. She got angry, and we both said things we didn’t mean.” Talking about it made Nacho realize how shitty the situation was. He felt like screaming from frustration. “Fuck, Dom… I really messed up this time.”

“You both did.”

“Yea…” He dreads the answer, yet he asks: “When did she… Tell you?”

“Back when you dated Mona.”

“Dude, that was like 10 months ago! Why the hell didn’t you tell me earlier?!”

“Hey! I’m Laura’s friend too. Besides, she threatened to kick my ass if I told you about her feelings for you.” 

“What a damn shit show!” He cussed loudly, almost forgetting Domingo on the other line. 

“I’m sorry, man.” He sighs. “But then, Laura got together with… Them. And well, you still dated Mona back then.”

“Yea…” 

“And you seriously didn’t know Laura had a crush on you? Like, at all?” 

“No, Domingo! I didn’t.” Nacho hissed. 

“You’re a damn fool, my friend.”

“Rubbing salt in my wounds.” he muttered, frustrated by Domingo’s teasing.

“You and Laura have been dancing around each other for years. You both are idiots, y’know?” 

“I hate you. No… I hate this. This situation? It sucks.”

“I’m so sorry, Nacho.”

Silence, silence, silence. 

“So what now?”

“Talk to her, dumbass.”

And that’s the plan.

Nacho refuses to start the new year whilst being in a disagreement with his best friend. Crush. Whatever. 

“Damn, look at that girl over there!”

Nacho’s eyes follow to where Domingo’s glare is stuck. He grimaces. 

“She’s way out of your league, dude.”

Domingo scoffs and begins a long, drunken rant about something… 

That’s when he sees her. A tall figure amongst the crowd of people. Her brown wavy hair, that purple shirt he likes to see her in… And as usual, the high heels - as if being taller than him wasn’t enough. 

“Shit, there she is!” He hisses, to gain Domingo’s attention. His friend whistles loudly, and Laura turns her gaze towards them. She looks pissed with someone whistling at her like that, until realizing it’s Domingo. 

Shit, shit, shit. 

She walks up to them.

“Hey, happy almost new years.” 

She greets Domingo with a hug, and despite everything, she embraces Nacho too. He stands frozen, before slowly wrapping his arms around her. He breathes in the scent of her shampoo. Her scent. The hug only lasts for a couple of seconds, but it feels like hours. He wishes it was hours. 

“Yo, thirty minutes left until the new year! I need to find someone to kiss.” 

With that, Domingo walks off, stumbling forward onto the living room, which is used as a dance floor. And just like that, Nacho and Laura are alone.

Thank you for the support. Nacho will remember to give his friend hell for this. He turns his gaze back to her, and she gives him a sheepish smile. Her. His best friend, the girl he’s known since teen years. They’ve gone through up and down together, and shared so much. Laughter, tears, secrets… 

And there it is, the familiar heartache. The urge to run away from the situation, to flee his complicated feelings. Yet, he stands there and looks at her. They both speak, at the same time, the same words. Like they’re telepathetic. 

“I’m sorry-” Their voices harmonize. 

“You-” Again.

“You first.” Nacho is quick to say.

“You were right, Iggy.” 

I did not see that one coming - Nacho thinks. 

“I… I’ve ended it with my ex. Once and for all. They’re trash.”

“Laura… I’m so relieved to hear that.” He gathers his thoughts. “I’m sorry, too. For being so harsh on you. I just care about you, Laura.”

“I know, Iggy…” She sighs and uses the nickname that used to drive mad early on in their friendship. But now? He loves it. “I know. And I care about you. And I don’t want us to fight any more.”

“Me neither.” Everything else fades. It’s only them. Laura, and Nacho. 

Nacho and Laura. 

“We need to talk.” At the same time, again.

“Alright, this is getting creepy.” Laura giggles. “Come on, let’s head out.”

The cold night air hits them, but it’s a nice change from the warm house. A couple of lonely snowflakes fall down to the frozen grass as they walk. 

Nacho gathers his thoughts, mentally preparing for what he’s about to say - but he needs to say it. Now. 

From inside the mansion, the guests are preparing for midnight. Preparing to celebrate the new year to come. 10 minutes left. 

Laura sits down in a sunchair, next to the covered up pool. Nacho awkwardly stands next to her. 

“Hey, idiot. Sit down” Laura says, holding back a laughter. She moves to the side and pats the spot next to her. He sits down, very aware of how close they are to each other. Their legs are touching and so are their shoulders. Their exhales come out as steam in the crispy air. 

“The reason why I was so harsh, Laura, was because I was jealous. Jealous of your damn ex, because they got to call you theirs.” The words leave his mouth before he can think twice. The sound of the music inside feels louder, and he feels scared to breathe too loudly. 

“I don’t know why I said that. I’m sor-”

“I never liked Mona, because I wanted you to be with me. Not her.”

Nacho’s heart skips a beat. He stares at Laura, blinking his eyes - as if trying to process what she just said. 

They’re both silent again, but this time, it’s a comfortable silence. The beat of music echoes - or maybe it’s just the beat of his own heart. Her hand finds his, and her fingertips tap against his knuckles. He opens his hand, entwining fingers with her. 

They’re so close now. So close. Yet, he wants closer. 

“Are we done playing pretend now?” Laura asks.

“Yea. We’re done being idiots. Took us long enough, huh?”

They both grin at each other.

“Yea. You wanna head inside again?”

“Not really. Unless you have a midnight's kiss waiting for you…”

“No, you idiot.” Laura slaps his arm lightly. “Not yet, at least… Do you volunteer?”

His face heats up once again and he nods, failing at trying to act nonchalant. 

From inside the house, they hear the shouts, as the countdown begins. 

60… 59… 58… 57…

The two friends move even closer to each other - closer than they thought was possible. He can feel her hot breath against his face, and looks into Laura’s green eyes. He can almost see his own reflection in them. He squeezes her hand tighter and leans in. His focus is now solely on her, taking in details about her that he’s never appreciated before. The mole under her left eyes, the freckles on her skin, her crooked nose and the acne scars on her cheeks. 

20… 19… 18….

“You’re so damn beautiful, Laura.” He whispers hoarsely. It’s her turn to blush now, too. The intensity that she looks at him with makes him shiver.

“So are you.”

8… 7… 6… 5… 

The shouts are getting louder, yet it all seems to fade out. 

Nothing else matters - no one else matters.

ZERO.

Their lips meet, and Nacho’s hands tangle into Laura's hair, whilst her hands rest on his back. They pull on each other, trying to be as close as possible. Both of them melt into the kiss and embrace. Now that they finally have each other - no one is allowed to separate them. 

“Talk to her, dumbass”

The frustration in Domingo’s voice was clear, and even on a phone call, Nacho could almost see how he rolled his eyes.

“I don’t want to lose her.”

“You really love her, don’t you?” 

Silence.

Domingo was right.

So Nacho realizes now, when he holds onto Laura. She rests her head against his shoulder, and Nacho has his arms wrapped around her. He can’t help but look at her. She is smiling, and her eyes are glued on the fireworks lighting up the sky. Realizing that he’s staring, he turns to look at the sky. 

Yeah, I love her. 

And so, he’ll tell her. Eventually. 

AHHHH I hope y'all liked it :3 This idea has been on my mind for quite a while. I really love hurt/comfort stories and realyl like the concept of Laura and Nacho being idiots when it comes to love and relationships LOL So yea - this is basically how they offically became a couple

If you made it this far - Please reblog or leave a comment and/or feedback! It would mean a lot 😭💕

Taglist 💕

@mashedpotatosinacup @jokerislandgirl32 @tireddovahkiin @sharkruss @espresso-life

@stoneshipper @sheepie-self-ships @goopships @emmamagorobisgirlfriend @sunflawyer 

DM or inbox to be added/removed! 💕

[kittyball23]

Reconciled (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: The brothers have a much-needed talk before proceeding with the rest of the journey

A/N: Follow-up to “By Your Side” with ideas from Fandom_Kingdom_ Girl on AO3 and @pixarchan

__________________________________________

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow,” John Dory moaned, wincing in discomfort as Spruce applied the ice pack to the side of his face and held it steadfast.

“Chill, bro,” Spruce said, trying to keep JD’s squirming-self still.

“How can I not chill? That thing’s cold!” the teal Troll whimpered with his teeth chattering. He tried to move away when Spruce pressed it up tighter against him, and the purple Troll rolled his eyes.

“Bro, even my kids act better than this,” he said, and it was true. John Dory was being ten times more squirmy than they ever would be when being aided with an injury.

“Sorry dude, but, ugh, I can’t even believe that happened. He hit me! Hard! And it hurt!” John Dory blurted, and then shook his head in disbelief. “That was so weird!”

“It was a punch, JD, why wouldn’t it hurt?” Clay asked.

“It didn’t hurt before!” John Dory mumbled.

It took a sec to understand where JD was coming from, and when Clay did, he shook his head in disbelief. “Are you talking about when Branch was a baby?”

“Well, yeah, when else?”

“You gotta be kidding me. He was a baby, JD, of course it’s not gonna hurt the same way it does now!” Clay blurted. Did John Dory really not see that?

Spruce disregarded the obliviousness in his older brother. “I’m surprised Branch didn’t clock us either,” he said to Clay, shuddering to remember how difficult it was to get their youngest bro under control when his fists had been wildly flying out at JD.

“Well, you’re lucky he didn’t!” John Dory moaned.

Spruce snorted. “Y’know, it coulda been avoided if you’d just stopped talking. Didn’t you see how triggered he was getting when y’all were arguing? He was literally twitching.”

“No, I didn’t,” JD said.

The purple Troll sighed and looked at Clay. The two of them were thinking the same thing. How long had John Dory been alone that he’d forgotten how to read the most basic of social cues? Well, it didn’t matter now. What had been done was done, and JD was most likely going to have a bruise to show for it.

“Yo, when do you think Branch and Poppy will be back though?” Clay asked. “It’s been a little bit, don’t you think?” He grabbed a few more sticks, nursing the little campfire that he’d made in the meantime. The sky had been an orange-gradated twilight when Branch had stormed off, and it was now turning a deep blue, soon to be black and speckled with stars.

Spruce shrugged. “He could still be blowing off steam. But you know… a lot can happen between a guy and a girl when they’re alone, too.”

Clay narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean,” Spruce answered simply, giving his brother a look.

Clay suddenly understood. “Ugh, no, Spruce! Why you gotta think like that?” He shook himself. “You really think Branch is gonna be up for any frisky business after the way he was fuming?”

“Look, I’m just saying, from personal experience this time,” the purple-haired Troll replied.

Clay didn’t respond. Now THAT is weird, he thought to himself, because even thinking about Branch being old enough to have his own relationship was something he was still trying to wrap his head around. He sighed. I really can’t believe it’s been that long…

The three Trolls let some minutes of silence pass, each one wondering what they should say next, when they heard the sound of someone approaching.

Three sets of eyes flitted over to find Branch and Poppy, silhouetted by the firelight, coming toward them. Branch looked far more relaxed than he’d been previously, but the brothers could tell he still wasn’t feeling a hundred percent. There was tension still lingering in the air, crackling the same way that the flames were.

Even more silence passed, to the point where things began to feel a little discomforting.

“So… um… you good, bro?” Clay asked, in an effort to fill in the space with chatter.

Branch shrugged, not looking Clay or any of the others in the eye. He kept his gaze on the ground, arms crossed and a look of exhaustion on his face.

"We think so," Poppy answered for him. She quietly whispered "C'mon," to Branch, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and guiding him back to the caterbus. She'd just put a her hand on the door when both of them were stopped.

"Hey, guys," Spruce spoke up, causing the pair to turn around. Noticing Branch's apprehension, John Dory shot the purple Troll a look like, Let sleeping dogs lie! But Spruce paid him no mind. He had to say what he wanted to say if they wanted to get this situation under control for good.

“Y’know, it’s sweet and all how you two go off and have your little moment,” he said. “But… I think we should all have our moment, if you catch what I’m saying.” Letting John Dory take hold of the ice pack so he could nurse his own wound, Spruce sat down next to him, and gestured over to Branch and Poppy. “C’mon, guys. I think we need to talk. All of us.” He cut his eyes over at JD and Clay.

John Dory, still recovering from his shock of being attacked, looked like he wanted to disagree, but he didn’t. He said nothing, only pressing the ice pack tighter to his head and scooting a little closer to Spruce for protection should anything else ensue.

Clay looked uncertain, but knew it was best not to voice a disagreement.

Good, Spruce thought. In his family back on Vacay Island, he’d witnessed his children having plenty of arguments before. And as a father he’d learned that it was best to talk things out, before someone did something that they regretted. Like walking away and never looking back.

He breathed out a sigh, glad to see that his youngest brother had not protested in doing as he’d requested, and sitting down alongside his girlfriend. Awkward silence stretched out once again, filled only by shifting and some distant nature sounds.

Spruce clicked his tongue, suddenly second-guessing his idea. "Umm... anybody wanna start?" he asked tentatively.

No answer.

But then...

"Well, um..."

All eyes fell on Branch, who'd spoken barely above a whisper. He looked hesitant, almost scared, but knew he couldn't stay quiet now that he'd started.

"I'm just... just so... confused," he managed. Before he could help himself, Branch felt tears forming in his eyes and falling against his will. Hurriedly he spoke, frustrated, embarrassed, and overwhelmed,  the anger he'd previously lashed out with washed over with sadness. "I was confused when you guys left me… I was confused why Grandma had to die, why I couldn’t just get along with others, why I’d turned gray… why I was alone for so long… and then…” - he paused, trying to catch his breath - “Right when I think things are heading in the right direction for me for once… you guys come back…” Branch clenched his fists. “I’m just so confused…” he mumbled again. “I want to know why this is happening now. I want to know, and I want things to make sense. But they just don’t!...” He stopped, letting out an uncharacteristic sob. His shoulders shook and his hands were curled into tight balls, the knuckles whitening. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop crying, and before long he felt a familiar warm hand cover his trembling ones. Branch flinched a little, but relaxed when he saw that it was only his beloved Poppy. It pained him when he looked to see that she too was growing teary herself over the sight of him so broken.

Clay felt a pain in his chest, too. It was difficult seeing Branch like this. He could remember so many times when his pranking buddy had a great big grin on his face, right after they’d pulled a fast one on the others. He didn’t think about stuff too far into the future when he’d been a teen, but the few times he did, he figured that as adults he and Branch would still be up to their tag-team jokey antics. Clearly, that wasn’t the case.

“Look, Branch, I… I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,” he started cautiously, “but I can’t sugarcoat it, bro. When we left, we did mean it. Can’t say we didn’t, and I’m not mad at you for being mad at me. But that was because we were each thinking about ourselves. Me? I mean, I was just real angry that everybody was laughing at me that day when we’d failed. That’s why I wanted to quit. But y’know, looking back at it now, all this time later… that wasn’t such a hot move. Even if we failed, and got laughed at, that wasn’t a reason to just give up and leave. And I do mean it when I say that I’m real sorry.” And he was. Clay could never forget how aloof Branch had been on the trip so far. Anytime he, Spruce, or John Dory had tried to spark up some conversation, they’d been given either short, irritated replies or the full cold shoulder. It ate Clay with guilt to know that it was because of them that he’d behaved that way, and this was an apology that was long coming to his youngest brother.

Spruce gave a nod at Clay, impressed by his speech, and was soon inspired to take his own shot at it.

“Imma tell you nothing but the truth here, bro,” he said to Branch. “Yeah, I left. And I left for selfish reasons, not to mention petty…” Spruce glanced down at himself, remembering those “rock-hard abs” that he’d fretted endlessly over as a teen due to thinking it would earn him girls, and seeing how pointless it’d been. He had a loving wife and family without the muscles he thought he’d needed, and he was happy with his appearance now. “I wish I had some more sense when I was that young… but what’s done is done, and we can move on from it. Put it in the past. Say sorry and just carry on from there. And Branch, I really am sorry, too. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be there for you when you grew up. I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better friend to you, or a better brother. And I’m sorry that you got hurt.” 

Satisfied with his spiel, Spruce sat back and folded his hands over his lap.

John Dory looked as though something was clicking in his head. Suddenly, the throbbing against his cheek where he'd been nursing the ice pack wasn't bothering him as much as his need to say something to Branch as well (even if it was risking him another sock in the jaw). "Branch,” he sighed, “I guess you could say that I only saw things like black and white. All or nothing. Go big or go home. That's why when the band failed, I left. The way I saw it, it was either 'bro-bros' or 'so-lo.' But now... I mean, I guess it's not so black and white, is it? Turns out there's a whole lotta gray area!"

John Dory thought he was doing pretty good so far, until he saw Branch wince at the mention of 'gray.' He didn't understand why, until he remembered what Branch had said, about having turned gray. He'd heard stories about it when he was a teen, but they were just rumors and fables passed between Trolls. He didn't think it was actually real. But Branch didn't look like he was bluffing at all.

"I-I mean, not literally 'gray,' y'know, but uh... umm... well, you get what I mean, right?" JD stuttered, feeling the throbbing in his cheek again and almost certain he'd have a twin bruise on his other cheek if he didn't make things make sense.

“What I mean is, we’re brothers. And we’re always gonna be brothers. Even if we say things like we never wanna see each other again… which, I know, we did… and even if we fight.” JD added that last part a little nervously, having a bad feeling that he had asked for it.

But Branch didn’t make any advances to JD. He’d sat there, listening, as he had when his other two brothers had taken their turn talking to him. He had calmed from his crying, although he was still sniffling slightly. Branch stared back at JD, and Spruce, and Clay. Poppy's firm hold on his hand felt like the only thing still keeping him rooted to the spot, preventing him from acting on instinct and walking away like he’d wanted to earlier that evening. If he did that, he knew he'd be acting no better than they had when they'd left.

“You know,” Poppy said out loud to them, “I guess I don’t actually know a whole lot about families and stuff as I thought I did. All I’ve ever known is me and my Dad. Then there was Viva and I, and when we met, I mean, we were like besties.” She giggled a little to remember how enthusiastic the pink Putt Putt queen had been, and how sad she was to see her go. “You guys, well… you’re not exactly besties right now… and I don’t even think I can call you friends,” Poppy admitted. “It really confused me at first. You’re brothers - basically pals who can’t ever leave each other! And yet…” She let herself trail off, not finding it necessary to repeat what they already knew. “I can only hope that you guys become a big happy one again,” Poppy continued more quietly. “But I can’t force it to happen. That wouldn’t be fair to you guys, especially since I'm not exactly a part of your family..." She stopped herself, feeling funny about trying to tell them what to do when these were Branch's brothers, not hers. It was their business. She had only a smidgen of the situation in perspective compared to them. Which is why she was surprised at what her boyfriend, who’d found the will to speak again, said.

“You are family, Poppy,” Branch told her, squeezing her fingers a little tighter. "We're all in this together."

Poppy smiled softly, touched that he was so confident about their relationship and trusted her on such privy matters between him and his brothers. And his brothers didn't mind either. With the time they'd been able to spend with Poppy, they could see that she loved Branch deeply, and he loved her. Then, Branch looked at his brothers.

"Look," he exhaled, "I'll continue the journey. I'll come and help rescue Floyd. But I need you to see that things are different now. I'm not Baby Branch. I'm just Branch. I'm my own Troll. You guys are too. And it depends on us whether we make that 'different' a good or bad thing." He gauged their expressions, and John Dory, Spruce, and Clay all nodded seriously. Their baby bro was speaking words of an adult, and he was right.

The conversation felt conclusive, and the five Trolls realized that the tension that had been in the air before was no longer present, attempting to hover over them like a dark stormcloud.

This was the first step to a new beginning. A fresh start.

They would start over.

Branch tossed the idea around his head.

Yes, he thought. He liked that.

[totallyradicalmucky]

Wheatley almost burns the house down: a shortfic

I played portal 1 & 2 recently after being pestered by a friend. cool games that I recommend actually. Made a fic at like 3am after these funny guys stayed in my head after I beat the second game in its entirety.

[Wheatley, antsy as always leaped at the sight of Chell walking into their shared apartment..or more accurately- Chell’s apartment that he lived in ..after Aperture. His optic rotated, just bursting at the seems to tell her something new.]

“OH- It’s you! So gu- no. I’ve been doing some research on *human dating* ..and-! It’s spectacular, so fun. And- You’ll never guess what I’ve got planned! It’s a suprise! C’mon, c’mon guess! ask me! ask me! ask m-

[this goes on more a while]

[Chell smiles a little, opening her mouth to respond]

“I’M GOING TO MAKE A DINNER! That’s it! But you won’t know what I’m making! Haha! It could be ANYTHING! Anything- bloody delicious that is! Mmhmm- Got you where I want you. Got you- there. Hehe. Um. So you….hmmm..Sit there while I do all~ the work!”

[Chell’s face drops in horror as she watches the Android rush off to the kitchen]

[She scrambled about for a moment, already hearing the clanking of pots and pans. The woman grabbed a fire extinguisher from underneath the bathroom sink, turning around to already see smoke coming from the kitchen.]

[Chell makes a dash to Wheatley, who was cooking something unidentifiable in a pot as the food was covered in smoke by now. She points the fire extinguisher at the pot quickly, only hesitating when she hears the android]

“Wait wait- wait! Hey! But you- you can’t be in here! Th-this’ll ruin the surprise! What are you even doing with the uhh..“

[The pot catches fire, causing the smoke detector to go off. The Android yelps in response to the noise, optic shrinking to a small size at the mess he’d made, only to be completely covered up by fire extinguisher foam.]

[The fire alarm beeping stops after a few minutes, Chell waving the smoke away and taking the pot off the stove. All the while Wheatley is given a towel to wipe the foam from his optic. Looking embarrassed from his now stained shirt..despite his lack of facial features.]

“Y’know you uh..you know you really uh..didn’t have to do that because uhh. I had it under control and, well it was all part of the suprise I had for you! Yup, all part of my master..my master-surprise plan. Yup. Bloody genius I am…Um, what are..what’re y’ doing?”

[The Android’s head tilts, getting sidetracked from his own rambling as he watched Chell rifle through the cabinets of their kitchen. He walks a bit closer, ever the nosy core]

“Soo..gonna let me in on what you’re doing there? Lookin for something? Maybe? Possibly? What would this…mm -what’re you looking for? C’mon….let your ol’ pal Wheatley look! Can I see? Can I? Can I-Can I Caaaan i? C’mon! Lemme see!”

*The bot gets even closer, resting his “head” atop the woman as he drums his hands on her back to try and get her attention while she’s kneeled, looking in the cabinet. Squinting in, to try and see where she’s looking, to no avail. He hums, a bit pouty.]

[Chell exhaled a laugh, smiling even more as she triumphantly held up a cool book in the air. Already feeling Wheatley’s attention leaving her to stand up and grab the cook book, the woman chortles as she stands up to watch him.]

[The bot, a bit dumbfounded by the obvious answer to his mistake. Puts a hand on his hip. Turning around, choosing not to face Chell as she smiles at him so smartly..he still holds the cook book in the air. Waving it with each punctuation in his speech.]

“Ah. Now this- this would’ve been very..ah. Very useful. Yknow, should’ve-uh, could’ve thought of that myself. But uh..y’know -clever girl thinking of that so fast. Clever girl…smart too!…I ever say that? Very smart. S. M. A. R. T.”

[He flips through the pages in the cook book rather quickly, glancing at Chell. Then back at the book, squinting at it.]

“So. Uh, do you have any..preferences?”

[Chell snorted. Making the android deflate a little, so she walked over to him, pointing out few favorites before honing in on a somewhat decent one to make (together..of course). Already being able to tell that Wheatley was completely lost on the instructions. She smiled, very much so ready for the long night ahead of them both...and her dinner.]

[tea-plantz]

hello! could i request an amity x fem!reader where amity doesn’t get that much time to see reader at school, so she dedicates a weekend for dates and cuddles? tysm have a great day/night!!

Yesss Amity our fav lesbian! I absolutely love getting such sweet requests, and I’m so glad you asked. I wrote this as a straight up fluffshot and it turned out so cute! I’m in love fr

I wasn’t sure whether you wanted s1 Amity or s2/3, therefore I went ahead and picked out my personal cotton candy haired fav, hope that’s fine by you!

She/her for Amity

She/her for reader

-Amity Blight x fem!reader cuddle date-

Amity’s POV:

Ugh this is so annoying! Why does the teacher go on and on about this subject, and why does he talk so slow?! I don’t really know why I bother paying attention anyway, I mean I already know about this stuff because my mom made me study it last year, and it wasn’t even that interesting! Speaking of my mom, she’s been putting a lot of pressure on me lately. Ever since I became my own individual, colored my hair, started hanging out with the people I wanna hang out with, and most importantly: stopped being afraid of her, she’s been more controlling than ever! Mom expects me to put up with all these extra classes and discipline, but I won’t let her get to me. I just wish I could focus on something other than school once in a while… Or someone.

Y/n… I wonder what she’s doing right now.. probably just some boring class as well, haha. I really miss spending quality time with her though, that would be the perfect stress reliever… wait a minute, that’s it! We should do a sleepover! Yes! It’s the perfect thing, and mom won’t be able to bother us either since she’s gone for a couple of days. Welp that settles it! Me and my girl’s gonna spend the entire weekend together, and I’ll show Y/n that I’m an awesome girlfriend. I giggled quietly to myself at the back of the class, imagining what a wonderful end of the week it was going to be, while waiting for that darn bell to scream.

—————————————————————————— Your POV:

I was walking around campus while humming to myself, making my way to my next class. What was it again? Oh right! Beastkeeping! Today, we’re gonna learn how to tame a wild ratworm, how exciting! As I was walking, I suddenly heard someone shouting my name.

“Y/nnnn!!”

Huh? Who could that be? I turned around to find whoever was trying to get my attention. What I saw made me cackle a bit. Amity was running towards me at full speed, before stopping and bending down, hands on her knees while breathing heavily. After she caught her breath she shot up with a wide smile across her face. Such a cutie pie.

“Y/n! I’m so happy I found you!” She said while tucking her hair back behind her ears.

“Hi Amity! Glad to see you too! Now, what’s the rush about?”

“Oh! Well, I’ve been thinking aaand we should maybe I don’t know, do a sleepover this weekend?” Amity said looking a bit nervous, while bouncing on her toes.

“Yes, that’s a great idea! But, don’t you have schoolwork to catch up on? I mean we’ve barely seen each other all week due to your packed schedule.” I answered with a sad expression. I just miss seeing my sweet girl, but I haven’t been able to spend time with her all week, because her mom’s been signing her up for extra classes all over Hexside! Honestly, I feel really bad for her, it must be overwhelming.

“Yeah, I have been focusing an awful lot on my studies haven’t I, haha.. But not anymore! I’m gonna have a talk with my mother, and this time I won’t back down. Plus, she isn’t even going to be home this weekend, because she has an important business conference to attend to, so she won’t be able to bother us! Oh! Maybe we can have a Good with Azura marathon, and perhaps, y’know.. cuddle or something..?”

Amity’s whole face was practically burning up when she asked about that last part (insert tomato Amity) as a nervous smile spread across her face. I could feel my heart flutter as I looked at her with a small blush myself.

“Oh Amity! Of course I wanna spend the weekend with you! It’ll be amazing, gah I can’t wait! *gasp* but I’m running really late right now, see you later, hun!” I practically yelled as I blew her a kiss and ran away.

Amity’s POV:

She said yes! Aaah I’m so excited! Oh my Titan, I have to get home and get everything ready! I’ve gotta make sure that everything is absolutely perfect!

——————————————————————————

Your POV:

Whoof that was a seriously chaotic class. One student even almost got eaten by a ratworm, but alas me and Viney got it under control, thankfully. Oh that’s right! I have a date with Amity now! Is it even a date? Is it okey for me to consider it one..? Meh, it’s probably fine, like come, on we’re dating anyway!

~time skip to Amity’s house~

*ding dong*

I stood there waiting for one of the Blights to open the door as I placed my hands behind my back. Suddenly, the door swung open as Edric and Emira leaned on the doorframe, smirking as always.

“Y/n! Hi girl, how’s it hanging?” Emira said as she gave me an high five.

“Hi Emira! Lovely seeing you both, and I’m doing fine.” I replied with a closed eye smile.

“Hey mittens! Your girlfriend is here!” Edric shouted as he playfully winked at me.

Moments later we all heard the pitter patter of footsteps running down the stairs, before Amity herself appeared in the doorway with a tomato face.

“Edric! I told you to stop being embarrassing in front of-“

“In front of Y/n? Yeah I know, and I guess pet names are reserved only for your special girl here.” Edric said with a smug look as he and Emira leaned on a grumpy looking Amity who was busy hiding her face in her hands, which was practically burning up at this point.

“I hate you guys” she said with a sour tone.

“Love you too, Mittens!” The twins shouted in sync before walking away, laughing.

“Ugh, I swear those two do irritate me on purpose. Anyhow, Y/n hi! I’m so glad you could make it!” Amity said as she gave me a hug.

“I’m glad I could make it too, sweetie! Now, are ya ready for some Good witch Azura!?”

“Haha yeah I am, come on let’s go”

——————————————————————————

Amity’s POV:

Me and Y/n went up to my room which I had personally prepared with a bunch of blankets, snacks and pillows. As we entered I could hear Y/n let out a small gasp before turning to me with that adorable smile.

“You did all this? Wow! You’re just the best, Amity! This is gonna be so much fun!”

She’s just the cutest sometimes.

“Heh yeah! Now sit down N/n while I pop the disk in” (I’m not really sure how TVs and stuff work on the Boiling Isles, but let’s just pretend they work like on earth for the sake of the story)

I grabbed the remote before sitting down beside my girlfriend, who quickly cuddled up to me. I could feel my body stiffening up as she wrapped her arms around my waist. Carefully, I wrapped my arm around her shoulder before looking down at her, but to my surprise she was already up looking at me with that expression.

“W-what?” I asked.

“You’re blushiiiing” she said in a singing voice while leaning closer to my face.

“I- uh, no?” I said even though it sounded more like a question than an answer.

“Let’s just watch the movie” I finished, looking away feeling embarrassed.

“Sure, what ever you say mittensss”

“Stop it”

——————————————————————————

It’s been a couple of hours and we we’re currently on the third movie. I could feel my eyes starting to become heavy as I struggled a bit to stay awake. Then I suddenly heard a gentle snore coming from Y/n. Huh? My eyes wandered over to the h/c girl peacefully snoring away in my lap. Awww she fell asleep, and she looks absolutely adorable! I could feel my cheeks heat up as I carefully bent down, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. Then, I slowly lifted her a bit, being careful not to hurt her, before laying down beside her. Wow, she truly is beautiful I thought to myself as I rested by her side, taking my time studying her face. I’m so lucky to have someone like her in my life, I said in my mind while hugging her close to me.

“I love you, Y/n” I whispered before closing my eyes and drifting of, excited to spend the rest of the weekend with the best girl in the whole wide world.

This one took FOREVER to finish! Why the hell did I decide to make it so long?! Anyhow, I truly hope you guys enjoyed!

[jaytoons7]

Day 15: Night Playtime

The first thing I thought of for this prompt was a pillow fort! But I don't really feel like drawing for today, So I wrote a story instead!

It's a Rave family thing because of course it is. It's mostly fluffy, But Terrence and Randy do talk some angst near the end, It ends up okay though.

It takes place about a year after Terrence was overthrown. Him and Randy aren't technically married yet, But they do live together.

Also at one point, Gabe is referred to by their old name because they haven't come out at this point. They're called their actual name in narration (Please use they/them pronouns for this version of Gabe)

One of the things Terrence did not expect to see when he came to his small apartment home after work was a pile of large blankets and pillows made into a fort right above the couch.

The culprits revealed themselves as the 6 year old Henry and Gabe, Who were running out of their room holding some smaller blankets and stuffed animals. Terrence gave a small smile before leaning down a bit. “Henry, Gabrielle? Mind telling me what you’re doing?” The two kids giggled a bit before answering.

“We’re making a pillow fort!” Henry smiled. “We worked really hard on it.” Gabe added. “Do you like it?” Terrence ruffled both of their hair. “It looks great, I’m impressed.” He looked around a bit. “Hey, Can either of you tell me where your dad is?”

As if on cue, Randy dragged a mattress into the living room. “Ah, Terry! I didn’t hear ya come in! How was work today?” “Oh y’know, Same old same old.” Terrence hummed. “But I wasn’t aware you were in on your kid’s plans.” “Aw don’t give me any of that, Terry! They really wanted to build a pillow fort and I couldn’t say no!” He leaned over to Terrence and whispered. “They gave me the puppy dog eyes.”

Terrence chuckled at that. “I see. Well, I don’t see any reason to stop you, Especially since it looks like the fort’s almost done.” “Yeah, Almost. I just gotta add one more thing.” Randy placed the mattress onto the floor next to the couch seats. “There, Now it’s done!”

Henry and Gabe laughed as they began exploring the now complete fort. That’s when Terrence got an idea. “Since dinner’s gonna be in about an hour, How would you two like it if I ordered a pizza for dinner?” The two kids cheered. “Yeah! Yeah!” Henry cheered. “And since the fort’s on the couch, We can make some popcorn and have a bit of a movie night.” Randy added. If the kids weren’t excited before, They definitely were now. “This is the best day ever!” Gabe bounced on the couch a bit.

After the pizza dinner, Some popcorn was made and the family sat inside the fort, Where the TV was still viewable. They watched a few movies (With Henry and Gabe covering their eyes whenever there were kissing scenes) until nearly 11 at night.

The kids were fast asleep on the mattress near the couch, With Terrence and Randy still sitting on the couch. “Aww. The poor things aren’t used to being up this late.” Randy hummed, Looking over at Terrence and seeing him frown a bit. “Terry? What’s the matter?”

“Rand… I…” Terrence muttered. “I don’t deserve any of this…” “What..? What do ya mean by that?” Randy asked concerned. “Randy, I’ve fucked up bigtime..! I failed as a Toppat leader so badly, It got my own people killed.” Terrence weakly smiled, Trying to keep himself from crying. “You had faith in me as both a partner and a leader, And I failed..! There’s nothing left for me in either the clan or in the outside world… I’m sorry…”

“Oh, Terry…” Randy placed his hands on his shoulders. “Don’t talk about yourself like that! If anybody should be apologizing, It should be me. I didn’t just fail as a leader, But I also left you! I was a coward, And I made you pay for it… There’s nothing I could ever do to make it up to you…”

Randy teared up a bit. “But I can promise that I’ll never leave you again! We don’t need the clan, We have each other and the kids! And I know it ain’t gonna be easy, But you don’t have to do it alone anymore…”

Terrence wiped some of his tears before leaning against him. “My parents never let me build a pillow fort.” “You like it..?” “Yeah. It’s nice.” Randy wrapped an arm around him. “I’m glad ya think so. We worked our asses off on it.” The two looked down at the sleeping Henry and Gabe. “Should we get them to their beds?” Randy asked. “Can we wait an hour..?” Terrence buried his face in his shoulder. “This is the nicest I’ve felt in a long time…”

Randy nodded and the two quietly continued to watch TV.

[timaeusterrored]

(His Muse)

(Thinking about them again babes)

“What’s wrong, J?” V’s lips didn’t move, nor did he even open his eyes. It was kinda freaky when he did that honestly. But Johnny didn’t have it in him to comment or complain. Like V said, something was wrong.

The thing that upset him was the fact that Kerry was right there. He was sound asleep next to V, and looking so unfairly beautiful. Everyone said in the band, Kerry was God’s favorite because of how pretty he was. Johnny never agreed out loud. But he had agreed with it.

It upset him that Kerry couldn’t see him. That Johnny couldn’t feel him with his own hands. Even when they did get to talk, it wasn’t with his voice, his eyes, his ears. Kerry only saw V, with the knowledge that Johnny was somewhere in there. It was a sick joke he had played on himself.

If it hadn’t been for Rogue, Johnny would have ran to him the seconds he saw the screamsheets about Kerry’s mental health declining. He knew that night fucked with his head even more than Johnny had meant for it too, but they had saved him and that’s all that mattered.

“Johnny?” V opened his eyes this time, turning to face him from where he sat behind him. “What’s up?” He said softly, making Kerry shift closer to him, his head rested on Vax’s bare chest.

“When I’m wiped, you’ll still stay with him right?” Johnny may have brought V to Kerry for their own comfort, but he had to make sure V didn’t ditch him as soon as Johnny was out. He needed to make sure he was taken care of.

“Of course I will… ‘M not an asshole.” Johnny just huffed and shook his head, looking down at Kerry. He looked so different, but still just as beautiful as the last time he saw him.

“…Would you like to talk to him? Tomorrow?” V’s voice was quiet, like he knew the risks that came with that. He knew letting Johnny take over like that was risky.

Johnny would love another chance to talk to Kerry, to have a moment with him instead of talking through V. But he couldn’t do that to V, he was already risking a lot slacking off so they could spend more time with Kerry before whatever happened, happened. V was thinking of accepting Hanako’s offer, much to Johnny’s distain. Kerry didn’t know yet.

“Nah. You’d be out of commission for a day if I did that. Those pills are gonna kill you, Y’know?”

V was quiet. Maybe that was for the best.

“Johnny misses you.”

Damnit V.

Kerry took a long sip from his coffee, eyeing V over the mug. He was taking into account what V was saying, processing it. It was way too early to be saying shit like that.

“Does he now?” Kerry asked, putting the cup down. He clearly did not wanna think about it, Johnny missing him.

They had stayed in the Glen apartment that night, meaning Kerry got to steal V’s clothes and have an excuse, like he needed one. Johnny remembered a time when Kerry worse his clothes everywhere like they were his own.

“Do we… have thoughts on that?” V asked, leaning forward on the counter a bit. Kerry leaned in as well and kissed his cheek.

“Whatever you’re planning, the answer is no. You’re body can’t handle it, and I’m sure if Johnny truly cared about you like he said he does, he wouldn’t agree with your sneaky little ways either.” Kerry shut down V’s plan quick, making the merc pout.

“But he misses you. And you miss him-“

“V, sweetheart, lemme explain something. I’ve missed Johnny for 50 years, I’m used to missing him. I don’t think it’s ever gonna go away. But when it comes down to it, I’m sure it will, I’m choosing you. You are my concern now, keeping you alive is what I want. Johnny and I can miss each other for another 50 years, doesn’t mean I want to see him or use you to see him. Got me?” Kerry rolled up the sleeves on the shirt he had stolen, ending his argument.

Damn. Was it bad Johnny was kinda turned on by that.

“Yes Johnny, it is. And why are you two so stubborn?” V asked him, pouting into his coffee.

“Like I said, you’d never win an argument we’re on the same side of. Never gonna happen, V.”

[not-orphaned-account]

Hey!!! For the 2022 fic asks: 🤩 😮 😍 (no need to do all of them!)

Happy New Year 🎉🎉🎉

Hello! It's several weeks later don't mind me I know the answers don’t really require explanations, but I put them in anyway so answers under the cut to keep space lksadjf

🤩 What's your favourite fic you posted?

So I'm gonna choose two, since I have different relationships with each fandom I write for:

DSMP: Seaside Gladiolus I’m having so much fun with the style of this, and it has a more fantasy vibe that I don’t usually write, so it’s quite different from my other fics. It also means a lot to me, because it’s probably the realest I’ve ever gotten with a fic. I’ve put a lot of my own thoughts and experiences into it, and seeing other people relate to or just enjoy reading it feels like it’s worth it, y’know? I can’t wait for what comes in the next chapters!!

Death Note: Frostbitten This fic is super fun to write because it’s a lot lighter than my usual stuff, more humour-oriented and not as serious subject matter. It’s also allowed me to go back to something I had negative associations with (figure skating) and remember what I love about it! I’ve actually started skating again just because of writing it slkfjsdlkfj

😮 What surprised you this year? Was it reception to a certain fic? A direction change in one of your stories? 

The engagement on Springsteen honestly took me by surprise, ngl. Like, I wrote it for people who have had the same sorts of experiences growing up, but I guess I hadn’t expected it to go as far as it did? And reading some of the comments and stuff from people who could relate really meant so much to me, and it made me feel less alone.

😍  What's one of your favorite lines or exchanges you wrote this year?

I know it says one, but I have a couple dlkfjsdfl

“Morning, sunshine,” he teased. “Fuck off,” Mello replied cheerfully. (Safe From The World)

Matt didn’t think he was ever going to get tired of seeing Mello like this. He was leaning out the window of Matt’s car, laughing into the wind as it ruffled his hair and whipped it back. The sun setting over the ocean bathed him in golden light, and if Matt were a religious man, he’d swear he was looking at an angel. (Safe From The World)

“What can a mortal do to take the pain from a god? Dream, this isn’t your burden to bear.” (Seaside Gladiolus)

Thank you for the asks! Sorry for the long-winded answers ^^’