#hope everyone is doing well and that life is not kicking you in the butt

[shinescape]

it's been a while!! 👋🏼 the blog is pretty dusty but I won't leave without a little treat *wink wink*

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY JASON TODD/ROBIN/RED HOOD *  assorted dialogue from multiple dc universe sources, adjust as necessary

i did it once for dramatic effect and it just got to be a habit.

you can't tell, but i'm dozing off under this mask.

a whole night in paris... and i managed to not kill anyone. not bad.

you made the same mistake everyone does when it comes to me.

i want to warn them... but i know i can't.

don't know, don't care. i got my hands full.

do you remember the last time we were together?

looks like you guys could use a hand!

i'm looking for someone.

i'm afraid it's about to get much worse.

the angry, reckless vigilante bit is my thing.

i'm not good or bad. i'm just practical as hell.

you and i are more alike than you realize.

i get it. starting over is scary as hell.

i don't even need to turn around to know that's you.

thanks for thinking of me. i'm happy to help. honored, even.

i generally have several madness-inducing hallucinations before breakfast.

nothing in the real world can be as frightening as what we can imagine... right?

you don't think i understand what it's like to be abandoned? forgotten?

i'll be damed if my best friend is going to die... because he was dumb enough to trust me.

i'm sorry. i'm never going to be the hero you want me to be.

next time i see you, i'm going to kick your butt for this dying crap.

you have ten seconds to walk way. nine... oh, screw it.

there are better ways to spend your energy.

that looks like it's gotta hurt. well, i say that like i'm speculating or something. i know it hurts.

we chose to be a family.

if there's hope for us... there's hope for everyone.

you still haven't figured it out?

life's just a game... and this time, you lose.

i seem to have made myself an enemy of all the bad guys.

it's too late. you had your chance.

i'm just getting started.

hard to forget that night, huh?

in a way, this was the site of your first great failure.

ah... memories.

you can't stop crime. that's what you never understood.

you want to rule them by fear, but what do you do to those who aren't afraid?

i'm doing what you won't.

i'm taking them out.

now tell me... how does it feel?

is that what you think this is about?

i don't know what clouds your judgement worse. your guilt or your antiquated sense of morality.

i forgive you for not saving me.

he took me away from you.

i am no one's son.

what do you think this was all about?

welcome to planet earth, baby.

fear isn't the answer.

you son of a bitch.

we were friends, helping each other pick up the pieces of our lives.

it might not be a popular thought, but not everyone wants to be alive.

can you hear it?

funny, i actually escaped death.

the past keeps dragging me back.

they're not monsters. they're victims of programming, abuse, and trauma.

they can change.

fact is, they're just like us.

we became something else.

you hurt a lot of people.

we don't discriminate here.

sometimes you don't know what you want 'til you learn what you don't.

trust? you? i'll give it a try. but i'll tell you right now, i'm probably going to screw it up.

guys like us? the life we lead? we're never truly alone.

i have no idea who you people are.

you pompous ass.

before i kill you, i want the truth.

i'd like to think i'm an open-minded guy.

sure it was fun. but does that mean it was right?

sometimes i wonder if i'm just part of the problem.

i'm not doing one more damn mission with them unless you get me someone i can trust to watch my back.

knew you couldn't do it.

it's official. class is in session.

[stevie-petey]

episode seven: the mind flayer

Steve, who is leaning next to Dustin and you, snaps his finger. “Like the Germans?” “Uh… The Nazis?” Your brother looks at you, silently urging you to shut the teen up, and you pinch your nose again and sigh. “Oh, buddy.” You loop your arm through his and pat Steve’s shoulder. “Let’s just listen, okay?”

Summary: jonathan is back and has a lot of questions and you have even more for him, the gang gets back together and ties will to a chair, you tell the kid a story to distract him from his demons, steve is a confused mess but at least youre with him, and someone makes a surprise appearance (her name rhymes with shell).

Rating: general, cursing

Warnings: use of y/n, fem!reader, talk of death and grief, violence and blood

Words: 12.1k

Before you swing in: long time no see ! lots has happened, and this chapter was a pain for so many reasons, but shes here and i love her and i so sincerely hope yall enjoy :)

-

Stumbling blindly through dark woods while holding your bloodied ribcage has never been your favorite activity. Neither is following after a bunch of Demodogs to probably once again sacrifice your life to save others, yet here you are.

Steve has a gentle hand resting on the small of your back as he helps you navigate the woods. Dustin is to your left, scanning for anything that could possibly trip you as the three of you walk in a line. Lucas and Max follow, both of whom watch you with weary eyes.

Sure, you probably don’t look too good, but honestly. You’ve been objectively worse.

“You’re positive that was Dart?” Lucas asks, breaking the silence.

“Yes,” Dustin sighs next to you, kicking at a twig in your way. “He had the same exact yellow pattern on his butt.”

“Why do you have his butt memorized?” You mumble under your breath, which Steve chuckles at.

Max shakes her head. “But he was tiny two days ago.”

“Well, he’s molted three times already.” Dustin kicks at another twig, this time with more anger behind it. He’s on edge, and you know he’s worried that somehow Lucas will figure out that he kept Dart all this time.

You’d help the kid, but he dug his own grave.

“Malted?” Steve asks, looking over to you to see if you’re hearing what he’s hearing.

“No, buddy.” You shake your head at him, slightly endeared by the confusion on his face.

“Molted,” your brother clarifies. “Shed his skin to make room for growth, like hornworms.”

“I don’t think Steve knows what hornworms are, Dustin.”

The boy sighs, knowing you’re right, and continues to walk.

Max, however, won’t let the topic go. “When’s he gonna molt again?”

“It's gotta be soon.” Dustin responds, now looking around tiredly. He doesn’t have to tell you, but you saw how quickly Dart grew overnight; he’s grown at an alarming rate. “When he does he’ll be fully grown, or close to it.”

“And so will his friends,” you say grimly.

It’s quiet for a moment after that, your words unnerving the group. Everyone but Max had to deal with a fully grown Demogorgon last year, and none of you have forgotten how terrifying it had been. You all still have scars from it, both metaphorically and physically.

After a minute or so, Steve tries to lighten up the situation. “Well, at least there isn’t another cat for them to eat–”

“Steve–” But you’re too late, Lucas has already picked up on what the teen is saying.

The boy shoves past you and whips around to face Dustin, angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “Wait, a cat? Dart ate a cat?”

“No, what? No!” Your brother is a terrible liar.

“What are you talking about? He ate Mews–” Your elbow digs into Steve’s side, causing him to hunch over and wheeze. “Shit.”

You force Steve’s head up so that he looks at you while you forcefully whisper, “Stop. Talking.”

“Mews? Who’s Mews?”

You turn to Max. “It’s nothing–”

“It’s their cat,” Steve wheezes out, still not at all understanding the situation.

“Steve!” You and Dustin screech at the same time. God, maybe it does make sense that he’s barely graduating high school.

“I knew it! You kept him!” Lucas shouts at Dustin, before turning to you with hurt in his eyes. “And you let him hide it from the party?”

You wince. “I had a suspicion, but by the time I found out it had already been too late and–”

“He missed me. He wanted to come home… and Y/N just happened to not know about it for a while.” Dustin interrupts, trying to appease his friend, but it doesn’t work.

“Bullshit!”

“I didn’t know he was a Demogorgon, okay?”

“Oh, so now you admit it?”

You try to intervene, you’ve always hated when the boys fight. “Listen, what’s done is done and it’s too late to be angry now.”

Lucas scoffs. “I crawled into a dumpster to find Dart!”

“And that was a conscious decision that you made–”

“Guys!” Max steps in. “Who cares? We have to go.”

“I care!” Lucas faces Dustin again. “You put the party in jeopardy! You broke the rule of law!”

“So did you!” You’ve never heard anger like this come out from Dustin. It isn’t an anger that spills over from a regular argument. Your eyes flicker to Max and you know that the anger is one that stems from hurt.

You remember how excited Dustin had been to tell you about his crush on the girl. Now, after she came here with Lucas, you fear you may have to have a code blue soon with your brother about young love and heartbreak. Unrequited crushes suck.

The kids all begin to scream at one another and you’re too tired to try and intervene again. Technically, they’re all right. Lucas shouldn’t have told Max everything, Dustin shouldn’t have hid Dart, and both boys shouldn’t continuously treat Max like some weird outsider.

As they argue, Steve rubs small circles in your back, sensing how exhausted you are. While your bleeding may have stopped, you still feel woozy from the blood loss and could really go for some water and food right now.

“They’ll figure it out,” he assures you, breath warm against your ear, and all you can do is sigh.

You’re about to tell Steve that maybe you should all walk back home, it’s late and the kids are all too mad at one another to be of any help, but then you hear screeching coming from the distance.

You both freeze.

Slowly, the two of you step away from the kids to follow after the sound. They’re too busy arguing to notice, but the screeching continues to grow louder and you share a look with Steve. This isn’t good.

“Hey guys?” Steve calls towards the kids, hand never leaving your back.

The kids continue to argue, ignoring him, and you bring your fingers to your lips and let out a high pitched whistle. “Idiots!” Lucas, Dustin, and Max all go quiet, looking over at you. More screeches fill the silence, and you tilt your head towards the sound. “Hear that? Shall we continue to fight or are we done here?”

Steve flashes his light towards the source of the sound and beckons for the kids to follow. You stay behind, both of you silently agreeing that he’ll lead and you’ll make sure everyone is safe. Lucas and Dustin immediately follow, but Max lingers.

“Hey, you comin’?” You ask, motioning towards where the boys have all gone.

“Why are we headed towards the sound?”

“Because it’s what we do,” you shrug. “Welcome to the party.”

Max blinks at you, in disbelief, and it breaks your heart that she has to come to terms with all of this. Taking the risk, you reach towards her hand, offering her time to pull away, but she doesn’t. She lets you grab her hand and you squeeze it, giving her a soft smile. “I’m right here.”

The girl exhales, still guarded, yet she finally nods at your words. She seems to believe you, which you’re thankful for, and together the two of you follow after the others. The five of you approach the overlook, all of Hawkins visible. There’s a layer of thick fog covering the town, the screeches ominous as the town is blanketed.

“I don’t see him,” Dustin mumbles next to you, though he slowly links his fingers through yours, quietly confessing to you that he’s scared.

You squeeze his hand. “Lucas, do you think your binoculars can see that far?”

The boy brings them up to his eyes, and within a few seconds he seems to have spotted the source. He swallows, lowers the binoculars, and says, “It’s the lab.”

“They’re going back home.” You whisper, feeling defeated more than anything else. It somehow always comes back to that fucking lab. Will’s episodes, Mike’s silence, Nancy and Jonathan taking the burden of bringing the entire lab down themselves.

You now understand the immense anger Nancy felt that day during lunch, when you had all been at Jonathan’s car and she created her genius plan. How badly she wanted to make the assholes pay for what they did to Hawkins. To Will. To Barb. To sweet El.

“We have to follow.” You say, an edge to your voice. Your side sears with pain, your ankle sending phantom pains up your leg. Dustin clings onto your hand like his life depends on it. You’re sick of suffering the consequences that Hawkin’s Lab has brought upon itself.

You begin to walk down the overlook, steps slow and careful, and while the kids glance uncertainly at one another, Steve doesn’t hesitate to follow after you. –

As you approach the gate to the lab, you see a car with headlights parked in front of it. Two figures stand at the edge of the forest line, watching.

Other people are here.

You bring your knives out and flick the handle so that the blades extend. Steve stands next to you, his own bat raised after seeing your fear, and you nod at one another to slowly begin approaching.

“Hello?” One of the figures shouts, their voice oddly familiar.

You stop.

“Who’s there?” The voice shouts again, and this time you recognize it.

It’s Jonathan.

Immediately you start to run, damning the pain in your side, and when you break through the treeline and see Jonathan standing there with Nancy, both of them safe and sound, you start to run even faster.

When Jonathan sees that it’s you, he starts to run as well and within seconds the two of you are a tangle of arms and limbs. He hugs you fiercely, his cologne familiar and you hadn’t known how homesick you were until you felt his arms around you.

“Bug,” Jonathan exhales with relief, squeezing you even tighter. He brings a hand to your hair and cradles your head, his fingers sure and strong and familiar as always. You bury your face in his neck, feeling all the pain and exhaustion from today begin to dissipate.

Nancy walks over and lays a hand on your arm as you’re still wrapped around Jonathan. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad you guys are okay,” you sniff, you’re not sure why you’re crying. “God, I’ve had the weirdest two days of my life–”

“Steve?” Jonathan and Nancy suddenly say at the same time.

You pull away from your friend and let out a chuckle. Steve and the kids have now joined, confusion on all of their faces. “Like I said, it’s been a weird few days.”

“Nancy?” Steve walks over, his eyes going back and forth between you and the girl. He feels an overwhelming mixture of emotions overtake him. He notices the way Jonathan’s arm is still wrapped around you as you stand close to his side, and he notices the way Nancy avoids his eyes. Something burns within his chest.

“Jonathan?” Dustin narrows his eyes at the boy, and you can’t help but laugh.

Jonathan and Nancy approach the others and you slowly follow, taking your time. Nancy reaches Steve first. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Steve retorts.

“We’re looking for Mike and Will.”

You grab Nancy’s jacket. “Are they okay? Did something happen?”

“They’re not in there, are they?” Dustin motions towards the lab, fear in his voice.

Nancy lowers her voice. “We’re not sure.”

Jonathan senses there’s something else going on. “Why?”

Right on cue, the Demodogs begin to screech from the lab. Next to you, you feel Jonathan stiffen with fear. You know, without having to ask, that his family is stuck inside the lab. Suddenly the gash in your side stings in pain and you clutch at it and let out a wince. Hearing this, Jonathan finally realizes that you’re covered in blood.

“Oh my god,” his hands fall to your side as he scans for any other injuries. “You’re bleeding, oh my god.”

“I’m okay–”

“Fuck, bug. It looks bad–”

“Had a minor setback, we’re all good now though.”

Jonathan shakes his head at you, his eyes dripping with guilt; you know he’s already placed the blame upon himself long before he speaks. “I should’ve been there. I knew something was wrong when you didn’t call, and then Nance and I came back to my home being wrecked and you weren’t at your place and I was worried sick and thought you were dead–”

You grab his hands, forcing him to slow down and breathe. “Hey, look at me.” Slowly, his eyes meet yours. “I’m okay, bee. I had to protect the kids, and I had Steve. I’m right here.”

Jonathan looks over at Steve, who is stuck in some argument between Nancy and the kids, and he lets out a tired laugh. He can’t believe that he’s here right now, tired and delirious from a long trip with Nancy as you hold his hands, your own blood covering them, while Steve spares you worried glances. “Friends with him again, then?”

“It was inevitable.” You sigh, knowing how heavy your words are. Truly, it was inevitable. He’s too much like you, your wounds a matching pair, and you never stood a chance against the inevitability. He’s an extension of you now, you can no longer deny this.

“Are you really okay, though?” Jonathan asks you, still concerned about how much blood is on you. He feels this tug within him, pulling at his chest to encase you within his arms and to never, ever let you out of his sight again.

There’s still a slight limp in your step that Jonathan sees when he thinks you aren’t looking, the scar on your upper arm is harsh against the smooth skin he’s come to memorize, disrupting the topography of your body. Now, you’ve once again gotten hurt because of him. Your favorite cardigan is ripped and bloodied and Jonathan knows it’s one more scar he’s inexplicably given you.

The scars may fade, but he knows he’ll never be able to forgive himself. It’s the same heavy weight you feel within yourself over Will’s disappearance.

You notice that Jonathan’s eyes have glazed over in despair and you kiss his knuckles, bringing him back to you. “I promise I am.”

He nods, though he still looks unsure, but he pulls you in again for another hug. For a moment, everything is still. It reminds you of when you had been in Jonathan’s car last Christmas as he drove you home, the memories between you had gone still. You close your eyes, like you had last year, and for a moment nothing has changed.

“The power’s back!” Nancy exclaims, effectively shutting everyone up about who has seen what when.

You pull away from Jonathan. The urgence in her voice reminds you that everything has changed. There’s a scar on your upper arm that now has a matching scar on your ribcage. Jonathan has bags underneath his eyes that seem like they'll never go away.

You look away from him and look over at the kids and see, in Dustin’s and Lucas’ faces, the familiar fear and acceptance that they’re inevitably in danger. Steve catches your eye and he nods, indicating that whatever happens next, he’s ready whenever you are.

The seven of you quickly make your way back towards the lab’s gate, and Jonathan is the first to get there with you following close behind. The two of you stand in the patrol panel, Jonathan aggressively hitting the button designated for opening the gate, but nothing seems to be happening.

Suddenly Dustin barges in, roughly shoving past Jonathan and mumbling a soft sorry to you.

“Let me try.” Jonathan doesn’t move, which only aggravates your brother further and he flings the teen back. “Let me try, Jonathan!”

Jonathan looks at you incredulously, still having no idea why Dustin seems to suddenly hate him, and you stifle a laugh as you watch the boy repeatedly hit the button while nothing happens.

“Son of a bitch!” Dustin groans, still trying and failing to open the gate.

“Move over,” you shoulder past the kid and start pressing the button yourself. “It probably just doesn’t like you guys.”

Dustin and Jonathan both scoff at you, but you ignore them as you continue to press the button. You were mostly doing it to distract yourself, give your anxious mind something to do, but after a simple few taps, the gates unlock.

You cheer, immensely happy with yourself. “I did it! You guys just really do just suck!”

Jonathan shakes his head at you but offers his hand for you to high five, which you gladly do. As for your brother, he sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation. You ignore the kid and follow Jonathan outside to join the others.

Once the gates have fully opened, you, Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve all begin speaking at once.

“I’ll go,” you all say in unison.

The kids all stare at one another, wondering how this will go. It didn’t escape their notice that Jonathan and Nancy were alone together, and that Steve’s worry over you has strings attached to unspoken truths.

They may be young, but they can sense the tension between you and the teens pretty easily.

“No, someone has to stay with the kids.” Nancy reasons, looking over at Jonathan to back her up, and his eyes draw to hers naturally.

You see this, and you wonder when they became such a cohesive team.

“Bug, what are you thinking?” He asks, knowing that ultimately it’s your call. When it comes to the kids, you’re the one to turn to.

You bite your lip, unsure. Max, Lucas, and Dustin all stare at you, and you know the two boys want you to stay with them. They’ve been through hell tonight, so have you, but then you think about whatever has happened in the lab to Will and Mike.

Sighing, you walk over to Jonathan. “Nance is right. I’ll stay behind with Steve while you and her drive to the lab. They’ll need all the help they can get, and I’m currently in no condition to fight.”

Jonathan’s eyes once again fall to your wrapped side, uncertain if you’ll be safe enough out here. “You sure?”

“I’m sure, bee.” You kiss his cheek, fucking terrified something will go wrong. The lab is crawling with Demodogs. “Promise you’ll be careful?”

“Always,” he cups your face and brings his forehead to yours. “I’ll come back.”

You relish in the warmth and let out a shaky exhale. “Go get Will.”

The moment between you two is intimate; everyone around you looks away. Nancy stares down at her feet while Steve clenches his jaw.

After a few more seconds, you finally release yourself from Jonathan’s hold and turn towards Nancy. “That goes for you as well, Wheeler. Stay safe.”

She nods at you, spares Steve one last glance, and then follows after Jonathan into the car. Within seconds, they speed off down the road, towards Hawkin’s Lab as more Demodogs screech in the distance.

“Well that was awkward.” Max breaks the silence. “Sensing there’s a lot of history there.”

You snort, admiring the girl’s wit, and tiredly lean against the gate’s post. “Still have a lot to catch up on, Max.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, he just gently leans next to you against his own post and flips his flashlight in his hand.

Dustin starts to pace while Lucas stares at the sky, as if willing away every problem from the day, which you want to do yourself. However, your best friend is currently very close to a death lab that Will and Mike are inexplicably trapped in.

You try to calm your breathing, knowing it’s no use getting yourself worked up, but you’re terrified. Steve sees your unease and does his best to comfort you. “Hey, they’ll be okay. Jonathan is a smart guy and Nancy is tough as hell.”

Hearing Nancy’s name coming out of his mouth makes you realize that you haven’t asked him how he’s feeling about all of this, which makes you feel even shittier. He confessed to you last night how he still loves her, and here you are, worried about your friend who the guy’s ex girlfriend showed up with.

“Are you okay?” You ask him softly, worried you’ll scare him away.

Steve doesn’t ask what you mean; he knows and lets out a dry laugh. “Not the most ideal situation.”

You’re about to say more, but something seems to catch Max’s attention. “Guys?”

You look towards where she’s pointing and you hear the faint sounds of tires squealing against concrete. The same sound Billy’s car had made in the school parking lot days ago. As you piece this together, headlights light up the gate and the honking starts.

Immediately you and Steve rush over to the kids and push them away, narrowly avoiding being hit. As soon as the road is cleared, Hopper’s familiar truck brakes in front of you.

“Let’s go,” the man gruffs out, and you’ve never been happier to see that obnoxious cop’s face.

Steve runs over to the passenger door and holds it open while you usher the kids to go inside. “Come on, let’s go! Go, go, go!”

One by one you get the kids seated in the truck, and once you and Steve make sure they’re in safely, he motions for you to go next before he climbs inside and slams the door shut. You end up squished up front, in between Hopper and Steve.

“Drive!” You scream, and Hopper doesn’t need to be told twice before he stomps on the gas and follows after Jonathan’s car.

It’s silent for a few minutes as everyone steadies their breathing, processing what’s just happened. You rub at your side, the rough movements from earlier having upset the wound. Hopper notices this and raises an eyebrow at you. “Lose a fight?”

“Mhm,” you see that he’s dressed in hospital scrubs and raise your own eyebrows. “Got checked into a psych ward?”

Hopper lets out a short laugh and you can see the exhaustion behind his eyes, but he plays along and you’re grateful for it. “Yeah, figured it was time.”

–

The Byers’ home is a disaster when you walk in. The walls are covered with pictures drawn by Will, a map that he somehow came to piece together, of an entire underground tunnel system that the Demodogs now reside in.

You sit on the ground next to Will, who has been placed on the couch while he’s still unconscious, and you hold his cold, limp hand as Jonathan kneels next to the boy and strokes his hair.

“I’m sorry, bud.” He whispers, voice breaking. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I should have been there.”

You grab Jonathan’s own hand. “He wouldn’t blame you. You couldn’t have known.”

Nancy places a hand on his shoulder as she watches over him, a certain concern in her eyes that you’ve never quite seen before. She’s always been the most guarded out of the three of you, but now she’s rubbing comforting circles into Jonathan’s back; you’ve never seen her so open before, so affectionate with someone.

You noticed how much closer they seemed earlier at the lab, how the tension between them now appears to be gone. You know that something happened on their spy adventure, you know they’d been alone together, probably gotten a motel room, even. Your stomach twists at the thought, but Will’s cold hand is a reminder that none of that matters right now. Like last year, he comes first.

“We’ll figure it out, bee. We always do.” You kiss Jonathan’s cheek, not knowing how many more times you’ll be able to do so, and you try to memorize how his face feels pressed against yours, the way your nose buries into his skin and the way he leans into the kiss each and every time.

Jonathan sniffles and thanks you, pulling you into his side as he continues to stroke Will’s hair. Nancy remains standing, and when you look up to offer her to sit next to you, you finally notice Steve standing in the corner, watching.

He’s holding himself as he watches the three of you and, despite how he tries to hide it, you see Steve wipe at his nose and blink away tears; he’s never looked so small before, and your heart breaks for him as he walks out of the room.

You excuse yourself to follow after him, bypassing Hopper who is angrily trying to contact some government people to alert them about Hawkin’s Lab.

Steve walks into the kitchen and faces the drawings on the wall, his back turned away from everyone in a pathetic attempt to gain some privacy. Slowly, you approach him and stand to his left. You know he senses your presence, but he continues to stare straight ahead.

“You want to talk about it?” You ask, voice low so no one else in the kitchen can hear.

Steve closes his eyes and shakes his head, it’s all of a response he can give you right now. He’s worried that if he tries to speak, he’ll start crying. His worst fear has come true. He’s been replaced.

Tentatively, you grab his hand and bring your lips to his ear. “Can I?”

You feel Steve shiver, his breath is shaky, and though he isn’t quite sure what you’re asking him, he nods anyways.

He will always say yes to you.

The moment Steve nods, you tug at the hand you’re holding and bring his arms around you; he practically melts in your arms. Releasing another shaky breath, he buries his face in your hair and inhales your perfume as if gasping for air. He brings a hand to your hair as he cradles the back of your head, bringing you even closer together.

For the first time in Steve’s life, his mind goes quiet.

You’re aware of everyone else in the room, you know you’ll have to deal with the kids’ nosy questions later, but you don’t care. Steve needs you, and the way he’s clinging onto you as you hug tells you everything you need to know.

He’s barely holding it together, so you discretely shift so that the others can’t see as you attempt to piece him back together with your arms tightening around him and your fingers intertwining through his hair as well.

Your ribs scream in protest as you lean against the boy, but the pain reassures you that you are alive and sharing this pain with someone you’ve come to care deeply about.

“I’m here,” you whisper, feeling Steve’s body shake at the reassurance. “It’s just you and me right now, okay?”

He nods, still too scared to speak. The two of you remain interlocked in the kitchen you grew up in, surrounded by Will’s drawings and memories of early morning breakfasts with Jonathan, and Dustin watches from the kitchen table.

Lucas watches as well and shares a glance with your brother, who can only shake his head and sigh. He knows, sooner or later, that he’ll have to ask you about Steve, he’s never seen you like this before, not even with Jonathan, but for now he leaves you both alone.

When Hopper angrily hangs up the phone, Dustin uses it as an opportunity to distract himself. “They didn’t believe you, did they?”

“We’ll see,” Hopper sighs, tired.

“‘We’ll see’? We can’t just sit here while those things are loose!” Mike exclaims, his foot tapping nervously underneath the table.

The chief sighs again, now spotting you and Steve still holding each other in the corner. “Hey, Henderson and pretty boy, get a room. Mike, we stay here and we wait for help.”

Hearing your name, you finally break apart from Steve and send Hopper an embarrassed glare, clearing your throat. Steve clears his throat as well and takes several steps away from you. His cheeks flaming red.

“Did he call me pretty boy?” Steve whispers to you, but you shush him, instead walking over to Mike, who has now started to tap his foot even more aggressively.

Standing behind the boy, you rub his shoulder, unsure how to help the boy. You know he’s worried about Will and he’s always hated waiting almost as much as you do. At your touch, Mike turns his head to look up at you, and the fire that’s always been in his eyes has died.

You look around the table, it’s quiet. Max is playing with her fingernails, Lucas is staring at the table with tears in his eyes, and Dustin is watching as you try to comfort Mike. All the kids are in their own state of shock and grief. They’re too young for all of this.

Meanwhile, Steve hangs back by the corner, knowing that this is what you do best: you take care of people. He watches as you furrow your brows for a second, a slight quirk he’s picked up about you, and slowly he sees you piece together how to help the kids you love so dearly.

You start with leaning against the table, wedged between Dustin and Mike, and somehow–Steve has always wondered how you do this–you light up the cold room with warmth.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of this by yourself,” you stroke Mike’s hair, it’s rare that you get to do this, but he remains numb to your touch. “Had I known any of this would happen, I would’ve made you more fudge brownies.”

Though it’s small, almost imperceptible, Mike lets out a tiny huff, a placeholder of a laugh.

At least it’s a start.

You whisper more words to him as Dustin leans against your back, grounded by your presence, and Max watches this with interested yet envious eyes. She still has yet to grow used to your kindness, to the love you share with the boys: a sibling relationship she’s never had before.

As you’re comforting Mike, his eyes wander towards the living room and suddenly he gets up. You watch, curious as to what he’s doing, as he grabs a cube and delicately rolls it around in his hand.

“Did you guys know that Bob was the original founder of Hawkins AV?”

At the mention of Bob’s name, you bring Dustin closer to you. With everything that’s happened tonight, the reminder of the man’s death fills you with raw, unfiltered grief. When you arrived at the Byers home and found a distraught Joyce, you knew.

Bob is dead, and he has taken all the kindness he shared with you. He was a sweet man, one who took you in without any question as soon as he started dating Joyce, a man who offered you rides to work and encouraged you to stop by his own job any time. The same man who brought the woman who is like a second mother to you, back to life.

Your heart breaks for Joyce, for Will and Jonathan and all the other kids.

Bob Newby truly was a superhero, everyone he ever interacted with came out a better person because of it. He never left anyone without a smile on their face, and now he’s gone.

Once you’ve managed to swallow down your grief, you voice from the kitchen, “I didn’t know that.”

Mike turns to you. “He petitioned the school to start it and everything, and then he had a fund-raiser for equipment. Mr. Clark learned everything from him.” There’s light in his voice as he approaches the table again, a spark as if the fire is trying to relight itself. “Pretty awesome, right?”

Dustin and Lucas nod, faint smiles on their own faces. “Yeah.”

Mike sets the cube down. “We can’t let him die in vain.”

You agree with him, but how could you possibly accomplish something like that>

“What do you want to do, Mike?” Dustin lifts his head up, frustrated. “The Chief’s right on this. We can’t stop those Demodogs on our own.”

“Demodogs?” Max finally speaks up.

You sigh, tired of hearing your brother’s explanation of his made up name. “Please don’t ask–”

“Demogorgon, dog. Demodog.” Your brother explains, and you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Demodogs. It’s like a compound… It’s like a play on words–”

“Okay!” You and Max say at once, cutting off his spiel.

“I mean, when it was just Dart, maybe…”

You snort at Dustin. “Tell that to my ribcage.”

The boy glares at you and Lucas takes over, reigning you both back in. “But there’s an army now.”

“Precisely,” Dustin sighs in defeat.

Mike, who has been quiet the entire conversation, realizes something. “His army.”

Steve looks around, confused. “What do you mean?”

“His army!” Mike faces everyone, and the fire behind his eyes now fully alive, and you know he’s come up with some genius plan like his sister always does. “Maybe if we stop him, we can stop his army too.”

Dustin and Lucas share a glance and seem to be understanding what Mike is saying, but you look to Steve, equally as lost as he is, before Mike runs out the room while the others follow.

“Any idea what that kid is saying?” The teen asks you, but you shake your head.

“On a good day, I understand maybe a quarter of what Mike says. However, with significant blood loss and no real meals in me, I’m afraid I have no fucking idea what’s happening.”

“Cool,” Steve steps closer to you and motions for you to guide the way. “Let’s follow, then.”

You find the kids in Will’s room, all standing over a picture that the boy drew. In it is a looming figure with four long limbs, its figure thin and haunting as it stalks over the picture. Seeing the drawing, you get an uneasy feeling.

“The doctor said it was like a virus, it infected him.” Mike is explaining, speaking so fast you can barely keep up as you and Steve stand in the doorway.

“What virus?” You ask, now standing next to the kids.

Mike hands you the picture. “The shadow monster, it got Will that day at the field.”

“And this virus… It’s connecting him to the tunnels?” Max seems to be following along better than you are, which is quite depressing.

“The tunnels, monsters, the Upside Down, everything.”

Something within your stomach drops, the familiar weight of guilt follows it. “Will is still connected to the Upside Down?”

“Whoa, slow down,” Steve steps in now, sensing your panic, and tries to rectify the situation. “Let’s all just slow down.”

Mike groans. “The shadow monster is inside everything, and if the vines feel something like pain, then so does Will.”

Again, guilt throws itself against you with all its weight, and you feel each thud against your body like a hammer feels a nail.

Lucas nods. “And so does Dart.”

“Like what Mr. Clark taught us. The hive mind.” Mike follows.

You’re silent, staring at the picture still in your hands.

Steve crosses his arms. “Hive mind?”

“A collective consciousness, a super organism.” You hear Dustin clarify, but it’s all beginning to blur together for you.

All you can think is that you’re the reason Will has become entangled in all of this, in alternate dimensions, infected with a monster so powerful that it can create vast tunnels underneath your feet and monsters bred to kill.

Mike is on a roll now, it’s all clicking together. “And this is the thing that controls everything. It’s the brain–”

“Like the mind flayer,” Dustin realizes, which causes both Lucas and Mike to stop in their tracks.

It seems the boys have figured it all out, then.

And it seems to you that old scars will never fade, not in the way that they should.

Swallowing down your nausea and tears and guilt, you finally speak. “Explain everything to me.”

–

Dustin throws the DnD book onto the Byers’ kitchen table, beginning to explain everything as everyone gathers around.

You stand next to him, Steve to your right, and watch as your brother commands the room as if he was born to do so. As he explains, you look around and everyone. Jonathan stands next to Lucas, facing across from you, and Nancy finds herself standing to your left, worried.

“Oh my god, none of this is real,” Hopper is already over the entire situation, which annoys you. “This is a kid’s game.”

“I’m sorry, but those Demodogs that just attacked us are logical to you?” You snap at the cop, completely baffled that he for some reason decided to draw the line at a DnD reference rather than literal demons from another dimension.

Hopper narrows his eyes at you, but before he can say anything, Jonathan shrugs his shoulders. “Y/N has a point, you know.”

“Okay, before we all start fighting, I just want to point out that this,” Dustin points to the book on the table. “Is a manuel, and it’s not for kids. Unless you know something that we don’t, this is the best metaphor–”

“Analogy.” Lucas interrupts.

“Analogy, that’s what you’re worried about?” You grab at Dustin’s jacket to try and settle him down, but he’s angry and annoyed and you know it’s been a long day for everyone. “Fine. An analogy for understanding whatever the hell this is!”

Nancy sees you struggling with the boy and tries to step in. “Okay, so this mind flamer thing–”

“Flayer,” you gently correct.

“What does it want?”

Dustin bites his lip. “To conquer us, basically. It believes it’s the master race.”

Steve, who is leaning next to Dustin and you, snaps his finger. “Like the Germans?”

“Uh… The Nazis?” Your brother looks at you, silently urging you to shut the teen up, and you pinch your nose again and sigh.

“Oh, buddy.” You loop your arm through his and pat Steve’s shoulder. “Let’s just listen, okay?”

Steve tries to say more but you hold your finger up, indicating that you won’t listen to whatever he’s about to say, and he rolls his eyes at you but rests his free hand against the one you have on his arm.

However, when Lucas announces that you could all be dealing with the end of the world, Steve lets out a dry laugh and tries to pull away from you, freaking out. “That’s great! That’s really great, jesus!”

You pull him back by the arm, forcing him to stand next to you and calm down, and he doesn’t try to fight it. Though he’s scared out of his fucking mind and in over his head, he listens to your silent command and comes back to you. Once he’s still, you unwrap your arm from his and bring that hand to the back of his neck, playing with the baby hairs there to try and soothe him.

Steve leans into your touch, his shoulders start to relax, and you know he’s slowly calming down.

Jonathan sees this interaction and catches your eye, and when he has your attention, he flashes you a knowing smirk as he mouths, friendly, aren’t we?

You narrow your eyes and subtly point between him and Nancy, mouthing back, you’re one to talk, which effectively shuts Jonathan up and he diverts his eyes again, going back to focusing on what Dustin and the others are saying.

“No, no fireballs,” Dustin is explaining to Hopper. “Instead, you–uh. You summon an undead army and… Uh, because… Zombies, ya know? They don’t–uh, have brains and the–the mind flayer, it, uh, likes brains.”

When your brother sees you shaking your head in disappointment and Hopper’s barely controlled anger, he quickly finishes with, “It’s just a game.”

You nudge his shoulder with yours. “You did well explaining, buddy.”

Dustin gives you a weak thumbs up as Hopper angrily throws the book down. “What the hell are we doing here?”

“I thought we were waiting for your military backup.” Dustin retorts, and you quickly raise your hand for a high five, which he gladly accepts.

Hopper sees this and rolls his eyes. “We are!”

“But even if they come, how are they gonna stop this? You can’t just shoot this with guns!” Mike quips, and you give him a high five as well.

“You don’t know that! We don’t know anything!” Hopper roars, and it takes everything within you not to flinch at his raised voice.

“We do know, actually.” You say, voice quiet but stern as you try to steady your heartbeat. You’ve never, ever been able to hear a man yelling at you without some form of panic clawing at your chest. “Ask Nancy about the guns. We fought a fully grown Demodog last year, you seem to conveniently forget that.”

Hopper clenches his jaw. “Every time I start to like you, you piss me off again.”

“It’s a skill.”

Everyone begins to argue again, Hopper with you while Dustin, Lucas, and Mike take your side to try and reason with the cop, before a frail, broken voice silences you all.

“They’re right.” Joyce stumbles from her room, her face still wet with tears as grief overtakes her.

“Mrs. Byers,” you breathe out, immediately walking over to the woman to stand by her side, but she gently pushes you away.

“We have to kill it.” Anger slowly spills into her voice. “I want to kill it.”

Hopper joins your side now, the two of you surrounding the woman. “Me too, Joyce. Okay? But how do we do that? We don’t exactly know what we’re dealing with here.”

“We don’t know what could happen to Will,” you urge, understanding Joyce’s anger but terrified of how it may affect her son.

“If anyone knows how to destroy this thing, it’s Will.” Mike begins to walk over to the boy, who is still knocked out cold on the couch. “He’s connected to it. He’ll know its weakness.”

Everyone stands in the living room now, and dread encases its hand around your throat. You don’t want to make Will any more involved in this than he needs to be, he’s been through too much.

Max cocks her head. “I thought we couldn’t trust him anymore. That he’s a spy for the mind flayer now.”

“We can always trust Will.” There’s an edge to your voice, and Jonathan has to grab your hand to steady you.

Mike nods, understanding what you’re trying to voice. “I know, Y/N. We can always trust him, and he can’t spy if he doesn’t know where he is.”

–

Somehow, Steve gets paired up with Nancy to cover the inside of the Byers’ shed with tarps.

One minute Steve had been standing behind you in the living room as Mike explained his plan, and the next minute he was being auctioned off to join his ex in a small shed while you got to happily team up with Jonathan and his mom.

It was unfair, really.

While he’s moping about his luck, Nancy hesitantly looks at Steve, clearly also as equally uncomfortable in the silence. She lingers as Steve begins to hang up another tarp and she tears a piece of tape for him, waiting.

She watches as Steve’s body stretches the length of the wall and realizes that this is the first time they’ve been alone together since their conversation at school, and that his languid movements are foreign to her.

Nancy hasn’t seen him so at ease in a long, long time.

She thinks about how you’d been with him these last few days while she had been with Jonathan, and she wonders what else may have possibly changed in such a short amount of time.

“Hey,” she finally says, the silence clawing at her. “What you did, um… Helping the kids, that was really cool.”

Steve still looks at Nancy with such sincerity and warmth, something that makes her stomach twist with guilt. He doesn’t know what she’s done just yet, and she doesn’t know if he has a right to even care at all.

“Yeah,” he exhales, breaking the eye contact first. “Those little shits are real trouble, ya know?”

Nancy finds herself laughing, grateful he seems open to talking to her. “Believe me, I know.”

“It’s a miracle that Y/N survived so long on her own.” Steve says absentmindedly, returning to hanging up the tarp.

Hearing your name causes Nancy’s stomach to twist again. Steve may not have pieced everything together just yet, but she knows that you have. You’ve always been able to read people well, too well, even.

Jonathan wasn’t yours and she wasn’t Steve’s, yet Nancy feels an overwhelming sense of guilt for the two of you.

“It’s nice that you were there for her,” Nancy avoids looking at Steve again.

“Y/N has been there for everyone else, so I figured it was time that someone was finally there for her?” He shakes his head, unsure what he’s even saying. “I just… I wanted to help her.”

Nancy doesn’t say anything, she only nods and continues tearing off more pieces of tape.

You’re too good, everyone knows this, and sometimes Nancy finds herself resenting you for it, even though none of it is your fault.

–

Jonathan tears down another bedsheet from the clothing line and tosses it into the growing pile of sheets and bedding in your arms; he yanks them down, you catch, and then he cuts the lines with the knives you loaned him.

“You sure this is gonna work?” Jonathan asks his mom, who has joined the two of you to collect her own pile of sheets to cover the shed.

Joyce nods, the familiar frantic look in her eyes from last year is now back. “He knew who I was. He’s still in there. It’s gonna work, it has to.”

You peek from behind the pile of cloth you’re holding. “Who knows, maybe we can finally prove whether or not Freud’s theory of consciousness is correct.”

Jonathan doesn’t understand what you mean, but Joyce sends you a grateful smile, appreciative that you’re trying to remain optimistic despite the situation, and then leaves before her son can question the plan once more.

As soon as the two of you are alone, Jonathan puts your switchblade in his pocket and then faces you, not wasting a second to finally have you to himself. “Okay, tell me everything I missed while I was gone.”

His eager curiosity makes you smile. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but aren’t we on a time limit?”

“I think we can spare a few minutes, bug.”

“Fine, but at least grab some of these sheets so I can actually look at you while I talk.”

Jonathan laughs and does as he’s told, grabbing some of the cloth you’re holding and lessening the weight of it for you. Once he’s able to see your face, he smiles warmly at you. “Hi,”

“Hi, bee.” The greeting drips from your mouth like pure honey, and with two simple words, Jonathan can feel himself finally begin to relax.

“So,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Go on.”

You take a deep breath, knowing that what you’re about to tell Jonathan will remove the carefree smile on his face. He’ll only blame himself, and you hate the responsibility he seems to feel for you.

“The only major thing, well… Besides the Demodogs, is that I spilled milk all over Billy, the guy you punched at the Halloween party.”

Jonathan gapes at you. “What?”

“Yeah, it was kinda awesome, honestly. He was being a bitch, accusing me and Steve of getting together to piss you and Nance off, and he was just being an overall creep, so… I spilled milk on him to get him to shut up so that Steve wouldn’t end up knocking the guy out.”

“Wait, Steve was there?” He tries to keep his voice level, but even Jonathan can hear the underlying hurt within his voice.

He’s not sure why the hurt is there, or why the thought of Steve being the one now protecting you sends a punch to his throat.

“Yeah,” you frown at him, confused by his sudden shift in mood. “He was with me in the lunchroom, wanted to know where you and Nance had run off to.”

Jonathan swallows. “I’m glad he was there, bug.”

And he is, he knows he is, but he also knows that it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the shift that has come between the two of you. How it was only thirty minutes ago that you had wrapped your arm around Steve’s, not Jonathan’s.

He clears his throat. “So, about Steve…”

“What about him?” You feign ignorance, but Jonathan sees the blush that has started to spread across your face.

“You’re blushing, bug.” It hurts him to tease, but he knows he has to. Jonathan has to play the role he had been given when he was twelve and had met you that day on Nancy’s front porch.

The same girl he slept with last night, who he has come to love with such devotion that he still struggles to accept within himself.

They haven’t talked about it, at least not yet, but all the unsaid truths between you and Jonathan hang over him. He can feel the lines and threads and strings all closing in on you two, and he knows you can also sense it as well.

“It’s nothing, bee.” You start walking towards the shed, uncomfortable now. You don’t want Jonathan’s teasing, not when it comes to Steve; it’s too painful, you still haven’t quite come to terms with your newfound feelings for the boy.

Not when you haven’t laid your feelings for Jonathan to rest, yet.

It wouldn’t be fair to Steve.

Jonathan steps in front of you, blocking your path. He feels as if he’s about to lose you, and for the first time since he’s met you, he doesn’t know how to make you stay. “Hey, I’m sorry. It’s just… I know you.”

His words burn.

“Let’s just get back to the shed–”

“Bug,” he blocks your path again. He’s not ready to lose you just yet, but he knows he will soon. It’s inevitable. “I know you, and when you’re around Steve, you just… You’re different, a–a good different, and–”

“Jonathan, I really don’t want to talk about this,” you plead, but he hears the at least not with you that goes unsaid. “Why don’t you focus on your newly formed relationship with Nancy, okay?”

Jonathan stumbles over his feet. “You–you know?”

“I know you,” you echo his words from moments ago, with its melancholy and all.

He sighs, steps to the side, and lets you go.

It’s quiet after that.

–

In the shed, everyone busies themselves with their tasks.

You, Steve, and Lucas run around with nail guns and tape for those who need it. The rest of the kids work as a unit, helping one another with covering every inch of wall they can find. Meanwhile, Nancy wraps newspaper around the poles while Jonathan carries Will through the door.

Seeing Will, limp within Jonathan’s arms, only reminds you of the dead body that had been pulled from the quarry last year.

Only this time it really is Will.

Together, you and Jonathan gently place the boy in the chair and tie him. You ignore the way your heart clenches as you knot the cords together; you’re doing this to save him. Joyce prepares the medicine needed to knock Will out, in case anything happens, and as you watch, Lucas and Mike switch on the overhead lamps, blinding you.

“Christ,” you mumble, holding your hand up to shield your eyes from the light.

“It works,” Mike looks at you, hopeful. “It’s gonna work.”

Hopper steps forward, facing everyone. “If you aren’t related to the Byers family, get out.” While everyone begins to leave, you and Mike remain where you are. When Hopper sees this, he frowns. “What did I just say?”

Dustin and Steve linger in the doorway, both silently asking you what the plan is, and you give them a slight nod to indicate that it’s okay. You’ll join them later, right now Will needs you and you sure as hell aren’t leaving Mike and Jonathan alone to deal with this.

“Y/N is family, Hop.” Joyce stands next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You smile at her before facing the chief. “I’m staying.”

“Me, too.” Mike echos, standing his own ground against the man, and you refrain from giving him another high five for his bravery.

Better not to upset Hopper too much more.

The man in question groans, too tired to argue. “Fine, you two can stay, but only because I know that if I don’t let Henderson stay then Jonathan will probably have a panic attack or something.”

Jonathan shrugs. “Probably.”

Dustin rushes over to you and gives you a tight hug. “Be careful.”

“I will,” you kiss the top of his hat, catching Steve’s eye in the process. “Take care of him, please?”

Steve nods, without any hesitation to do as you’ve asked. “Of course.”

And with that, the door to the shed closes as the last of the group leaves.

It’s silent after that, and you take a second to admire the work everyone did. The shed is completely unrecognizable, and the lights will only further limit Will’s vision. A part of you truly believes that this plan could work, but you’ve long since stopped letting your hope get the better of you.

“Alright, you ready?” Hopper looks over at Joyce, holding the ammonia needed to wake Will up.

“Yeah,” the woman crosses her arms, and you want to reach out and hold her.

Everyone is quiet as Hopper crouches in front of Will and dabs some ammonia onto a cotton ball. Then, slowly, he brings it up to the boy’s face and waits for him to inhale. When he does, Will’s eyes snap open and he inhales so sharply that you’re worried he’s hurt himself.

You stand in between Mike and Jonathan, and seeing the pure fear on Will’s face brings tears to your eyes. He reminds you of a deer, small and frail, with eyes so full of fear that it makes you ache.

Will’s eyes dart around the room, and when he notices that he’s tied to the chair, he begins to tug at the cords. “What–what is this? Why am I tied up?”

“Will, we just wanna talk to you,” Joyce softly tells him, now eye level with the boy as she does her best to calm him down. “We’re not gonna hurt you.”

“Where am I?” The fear that had once been in Will’s voice is gone, now replaced with an anger that seems so foreign to associate with the boy.

Hopper joins now, showing him the picture of the mind flayer that he drew. “You recognize this?”

Will shakes his head and looks over at you, now realizing that you’re there, and you force yourself to look away. He’s always been the sweetest boy, but he killed so many innocent people today, even if he hadn’t meant to.

You trust Will, you do, but you remind yourself that the boy in front of you isn’t really him.

“We wanna help you,” Joyce tries to reassure him again. “But to do that, we have to understand how to kill it.”

At the mention of killing, Will’s eyes widen as more anger seeps through him, now shouting at his mother, “Why am I tied up? Why am I tied up? Why am I tied up?”

He begins to thrash around, throwing his head back against the wall as he repeatedly screams and begs to be let go. The lights are now flickering and immediately you draw Mike into your chest, trying to mask your own tears as you comfort him.

Jonathan clings behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist as he buries his face into your shoulder, and blindly you reach behind yourself so you can hold him as well. When you feel his tears spill against your skin, you wrap your arms tighter around Mike and cry.

Will continues to scream, becoming more and more violent, and something demonic seems to crawl into his vocal chords as he screams.

You hold Mike and Jonathan tighter against you, doing everything you can to be there for the boys. You knew this would be difficult, but as the lights continue to flicker and Will’s pale face quickly becomes paler with every plea, you feel weak.

With Jonathan behind you and Mike in front of you, both boys clinging onto you as sobs wrack your own body, it becomes unclear who is being held up and who is the one holding.

Hopper has his own arms wrapped around Will, and slowly, miraculously, his pleas begin to fade off. Exhaustion seems to overtake the boy, as he starts to mumble more than scream, and with every exhaled breath, the light’s flickering settles down.

Finally, silence.

The only sound in the shed is Will’s labored breaths, alongside your own.

Joyce sits in the chair placed in front of Will, takes a moment to find her words, and then asks the boy, “Do you know what March 22nd is?”

You do, it’s Will’s birthday, and you listen as Joyce talks about his eighth birthday and how she had gotten him a giant box of crayons and he had used all the colors to draw a rainbow ship. With every word, more despair and love fills the woman’s voice as she reflects on how proud she is of him, how much she loves him, and you have to turn away for a moment to wipe at your eyes.

After Joyce has finished her story, you all see something within Will. As if he’s coming back to himself, his eyes no longer holding the malic from earlier.

Jonathan detangles himself from you and wipes his eyes as well, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Do you remember the day dad left?”

You turn around, already knowing the story that he’s about to tell, and you press a soft kiss to Mike’s forehead before joining Jonathan at Will’s side. He can’t be alone when he retells this story, because he hadn’t been alone when it happened.

“We stayed up all night building Castle Byers,” Jonathan reflects, nudging you as you crouch down in front of Will as well. “It was Y/N’s idea to build it just the way you drew it.”

“You loved the idea,” your voice cracks, but you try to hide it so that you don’t scare the boy.

You remember how Will’s face lit up when you surprised him with the idea. He hadn’t left his room in hours, blaming himself for Lonnie leaving, and Jonathan had shown up at your window, in tears as he confessed that he didn’t know how to help Will.

After yanking the teen into your room and sitting him down on your bed, you had told him that Will simply needed someone there for him, to remind him that he was good and lovely and that everything that Lonnie had ever said was wrong.

Later that day, the two of you showed up to the hardware store; two young teens with only pocket change as currency, and you’d bought all the supplies needed for Castle Byers.

“And it took so long because you were so bad at hammering.” The fondness of the memory causes Jonathan to laugh, and you do so as well as you remember just how many times Will had accidentally hit his fingers rather than the nail. “You missed the nail every time.”

“I thought you’d lose a finger, honestly.” You add, which Joyce laughs at.

Jonathan continues. “And then it started raining, but we stayed out there anyway. All of us were sick for like a week after that… But we just had to finish it, didn’t we? We just had to.”

You squeeze the teen’s hand and lean in closer to Will, sensing that it’s now your turn to speak. “Do you know what my nickname is for you?”

Will slowly nods, his eyes going to Jonathan and then back to you, indicating that he understands he’s your little bee.

“Little bee, that’s right.” It isn’t difficult to reminisce on your favorite memory with the boy, it comes to you immediately. “After we all had gotten the cold, do you remember the awful flu that Jonathan and Dustin somehow got like a week afterwards?”

Jonathan snorts, remembering how annoyed he had been for being so sick for so long. He had missed two whole weeks of school, and you were the one who had to bring his assignments to him and help with his homework.

“That weekend, our moms decided that it made more sense to send Jonathan to my house so he and Dustin could quarantine together, so I stayed at your house and we spent the entire weekend alone. Just you and me.”

You smile softly, the memory fresh and warm like an early spring day. You love Jonathan and Dustin endlessly, but being alone with Will was special. A rare occasion that the two of you always relished in. “That weekend, we watched all your favorite movies and I taught you how to bake the cookies you love so much… You taught me how to draw, and together we were happy.”

Your voice breaks again, the warmth of the memory slightly stings as you gaze into Will’s sunken eyes. Two years ago you had all of Will, his happiness genuine and his heart kind, and now you’re terrified you’ll never have that version of him back ever again.

Jonathan notices your hesitancy and strokes your face gently. “Go on,”

You grab the hand on your face and kiss it, grateful for the strength he’s loaning you. “We–we were almost sad when Dustin and Jonathan got better, because we had enjoyed our little weekend getaway.”

Joyce lets out a shaky breath as she reaches for you as well, her hand landing against your shoulder, a place she has long since inhabited for herself whenever she wants to express her love for you. She knows how fiercely you love her sons, and she remembers all the laughter and joy she heard that weekend within her home, a home that had long since stopped being warm for her.

“That weekend…” You force down the sobs that threaten to spill over. You have to finish the story, to remind Will of who he is again. He has to come back to you. “That weekend, you became my little bee.”

As soon as you say Will’s nickname, you lean away from the boy and try to collect yourself. You’ve said all that you physically can for now, and you hope it was enough. You hope, more than anything, that it will be enough to bring Will home again.

Mike steps forward now, and Will turns his head to him. “Do you remember the first day that we met?”

You notice the tear that falls down the boy’s face, and you lean your head against Jonathan’s shoulder in exhaustion as you listen to his story. It’s one you’ve never heard before, and it’s rare to see Mike so vulnerable with his feelings.

“It was… It was the first day of kindergarten. I knew nobody. I had no friends, and–and I just felt so alone and so scared but–” More tears come. “I saw you on the swings and you were alone, too. You were just swinging by yourself.”

Jonathan’s hand finds your hair as you both listen, and you know he’s thinking the same as you. How finding your person in a world so vast and lonely can bring you to life.

“I just walked up to you and… I asked. I asked if you wanted to be my friend, and you said yes.” Mike swallows, now diverting his eyes away from everyone. “You said yes, and it was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Mike finishes with more tears, and you walk over to him so that he can hide his face against you. You know he wants to be alone right now, that he hates how exposed his emotions are, and as soon as you’ve wrapped your arms around the boy he buries his face in your chest and softly cries.

You do your best to shield him from the world.

Meanwhile, Joyce tries again to reach Will. “Will, baby. If you’re in there, just please… Please talk to us. Please, honey, can you do that for me? I love you so much.”

Something seems to collapse within Will, he fights back tears as his breathing becomes labored again. For a moment, you think it’s worked, that he’ll finally come back and you’ll have your little bee again.

“Let me go.” Will demands again, and you feel everyone’s heart in the room drop.

It’s quiet for several moments, but there’s a faint tapping that you hear. You don’t know where it’s coming from, but you’re sure that it hadn’t been there moments ago. You look around the room and see Hopper doing the same.

When your eyes meet his, he tilts his head at you as if to ask if you hear it too. You nod, and Hopper looks around once more before he freezes.

“Out,” Hopper suddenly orders, leaving no time for anyone to argue as he flings the shed door open and marches towards the Byers home.

–

“What happened?” Dustin immediately asks as soon as you enter the house.

“We think we found something,” you inform him, pointing to Hopper, who has now sat down at the kitchen table with a pen and paper.

Everyone gathers around him as he starts to scribble a series of lines and dots. “I think he��s talking, just not with words.

“What is that?” Steve asks, lost as to how lines and dots are so important.

“Morse code,” all the boys answer in unison.

Steve leans over you and whispers, “Why do they always do that?”

“You get used to it. Now shush.”

Hopper spells out the letters he remembers Will tapping. “H-E-R-E.”

“Here.” Everyone says out loud.

“Will is still in there. He’s talking to us.” The chief says, looking at Joyce.

Your eyes meet Jonathan’s and an idea comes to you. “If the memories we’re telling him are working, then what about music?”

Hopper thinks for a moment, but Jonathan has already run to his room to grab his stereo and cassette tapes, understanding exactly what you’re thinking.

A plan forms from there.

You, Jonathan, Mike, and Joyce all take turns telling Will stories while his favorite song plays. Should I Stay or Should I Go? Plays within the shed as memories fill it with warmth and Hopper taps out on a walkie everything that Will taps.

Inside the house, the kids, Nancy, and Steve all listen to the walkie and write down the morse code to decipher what Will is saying.

Jonathan tells him about real music, Mike recounts the time Will saved the party during one of their campaigns, Joyce talks about a kind moment from his childhood, and you tell him about the wonderful drawing he made for your birthday. The one of you, Jonathan, and the party fighting a dragon.

“You drew me as a princess and Jonathan laughed when he saw it. Said it was very fitting.” You say, nervously watching as Will frantically taps against his chair. “When you gave me the picture, I think I almost squeezed you to death when I hugged you. It’s still the best birthday gift I’ve ever been given–”

The sound of a telephone ringing cuts you off, and Will snaps his head up, no longer paying any attention to you.

You freeze, now realizing that the music has shut off. Will has to have heard it, and you know he’ll figure out where you guys are. His eyes droop shut and you slowly back away into Jonathan, who grabs you and pulls you even further away. He’s tense, you both are.

“Hey, can you hear me?” Joyce tries to draw Will back in, but he’s starting to pant as his eyes flutter rapidly underneath his eyelids.

“It knows. It knows where we are.” Hopper says as Joyce reaches for the sedative.

With one fluid movement, she injects Will and immediately he knocks out. His head falls forward, his breathing now back to normal. You pull at Joyce so that she faces you. “Did we knock him out in time?”

She doesn’t say anything, and Hopper runs outside while Jonathan and Mike join. The two of you stand in the shed alone, silent, both filled with dread.

Jonathan comes running back in. “They’re coming!”

“Shit!” You scramble to help him untie Will and you and Hopper use your knives to speed up the process. Your hands are shaking, but there’s no time to steady them.

Once Will is untied, Jonathan throws him over his shoulder and runs to the house. Joyce and Hopper follow and you grab Mike’s hand to make sure you don’t lose him. As you run, you hear the familiar screeches of the Demodogs and the hair on the back of your neck stands up.

They’re close.

Inside, you take the lead and shove everyone out of the kitchen. “Get to the living room. Now!”

“Y/N, what’s going on?” Steve is at your side now, his voice soft with fear.

You’re about to reassure him that it’ll be okay, to lie through your teeth, but then you see the kids by the windows and groan. “Get away from the windows!”

They scurry away and Hopper steps in, holding a shotgun that he offers to Jonathan. “Do you know how to use this?”

Jonathan looks around as if Hopper has asked someone else. “What?”

“Can you use this?”

While Jonathan stumbles over his words, Nancy confidently walks over. “I can.”

Hopper nods and tosses her the gun before turning to you, “I saw the switchblade earlier. Use it.”

You flick your wrist and extend the blades, doing as you’re told.

Everyone gathers around, with an assortment of weapons, and you get the insane urge to laugh. Of course you’re back here a year later, standing in Jonathan’s living room as monsters from another dimension threaten your loved ones.

Jonathan stands in front of Joyce while you stand in front of Dustin, knives raised to your face. Steve stands in front of you, his back facing you as he wields his bat, ready to defend you and your brother.

You make sure to keep an eye on Lucas and Max, who are to your left, trusting that Nancy has Mike as she and Hopper raise their guns.

All eyes are on the windows, no one says anything as you all wait. With every passing second, the howls and screeches outside get louder. Then, a loud screech comes from your right, and everyone turns around.

“What are they doing?” Nancy asks no one in particular, her voice shaky but her aim firm and strong.

You see the bushes rustling through the windows, and another snarl comes from the other side that causes you all to scream. There’s commotion outside, a series of screeches and thuds, and your body tenses, preparing itself to fight.

Suddenly, the screeching stops, and through the window a giant body gets thrown.

You scream and Steve shoves you and Dustin further behind him, but your brother realizes before you do what’s happened. “Holy shit.”

The Demodog lays motionless on the floor, its body limp, and you realize with a relieved sigh that it’s dead.

“Is it dead?” Max asks, as you all begin to approach its corpse.

“It is,” you confirm, too scared to ask the question of what the fuck killed it.

As Hopper pokes at the Demodog with his shoe, the front door creaks open, and everyone turns in alarm with weapons at the ready. The lock turns, and you feel a familiar sense of static. It’s been a year since you’ve felt the sensation, a year since the girl who could control things with her mind disappeared and left her memory behind.

It’s El.

She walks in, and you drop your knife in shock when you see that it’s her.

She’s grown so much since you last saw her, her hair is longer and she’s gotten taller. Her clothes are all black, her eyes smudged with makeup. Mike steps forward, you see the way his eyes fill with adoration.

You let out a soft cry, all the guilt and grief you’ve felt over the girl finally lifts, and you can breathe again.

She’s back.

El is alive.

-

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[cdragons]

Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 3

Previous Part

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. But goddamn, Oliver Quick was a fucking close runner-up.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, slight mention of blood, sexual harassment, Felix is delulu and kind of a pig, Reader just wants some fucking peace, Michael is Michael and the best, Oliver is Oliver (the worst)

Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who commented and reblogged! I didn't expect this story to gain so many readers, and this was a challenging chapter to write - but only because there were some scenes I couldn't add because it would have gotten too long otherwise.

If there was a God out there, you prayed for the coming term to be as wonderful as this holiday had been for you.

You really wanted to kick yourself in the pants for making such a fucking cheesy wish at night watching the stars with Michael.

Right now, you were leaning to rest your head against a bookshelf in a slant position. You had a splitting migraine that began from the moment you woke up and worsened with nausea from your tutorial. And you couldn’t even go back to your dorm for the rest of the day because your lab course for your gen-ed didn’t allow for absences.

“What’d she do now?” came a voice on your right.

You looked to the right and were blinded by a white and blue-striped button-down shirt with short sleeves tucked into a pair of tan khaki pants.

Your knight-in-silver-framed glasses, Michael Gavey, everyone.

All the guy was missing was a pocket protector with pens and tape wrapped around the bridge, and he would have matched every bullied kid in every high school movie set in the 80s.

You turned around to lean your back against the bookshelves and slowly lowered yourself until your butt was parallel to your feet. Blowing the stray hairs out of your face, you remembered to take deep breaths to prevent you from blowing up at your only friend.

“No,” you sighed, “well – yes, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Do you love your classes? Yes. Was Daria Martin still your art teacher, and did she still like you? Yes. Are the rest of your teachers mostly assholes that think all Americans are Appalachian hill-billies? Also, yes. But were you still not excelling and scoring in the top ten after every exam? Naturally, no doubt about it.

But were you as invisible and unnoticed as you were before the break came? No. Did anyone with a pulse give you side-eyed glances after your stunt with the 24/7 shit-faced He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named? Pretty much, yes. Did most of your problems come from one mythic bitch in a 5’3” flesh suit that had the ‘Juicy’ logo plastered on her ass? Namely, one in particular, Annabel – who was your assigned student partner in your tutorial.

Was your new name among the student body now “Psycho Bitch”? …Unfortunately, yes.

…Okay, so this term has not been going as well as you had hoped during the break.

Annabel hated you – like hated-HATED you. And you had no idea why.

You were pretty sure you were less than blank air to her last term, but now she was determined to make your life a living hell. Last term, she skipped every other session to do whatever Annabel did. But now, it felt like she came to every tutorial for the opportunity to tear apart your work.

You’re pretty confident she was the one who started your new “name” about a few weeks ago when the weather began to warm up.

It’s not as if you were a stranger to being picked and prodded by the people born with silver spoons on their tongues and blessed with golden-tipped wings. You were a public-school kid from grades K-12 who went to Townsend Harris for those last four years. Townsend Harris High School was a public school, but make no mistake – it was just as full of the same bullshit hierarchy that made up every private school in Manhattan.

"Open the doors to all. Let the children of the rich and the poor take their seats together and know of no distinction save that of industry, good conduct, and intellect."

What crock. You only survived those years because every kid knew that your dad was an NYU professor who knew the Dean of Admissions of Columbia. You couldn’t recall how often you wished you had joined your friends at Flushing High or even Bayside.

However, regardless of the snide snarks and bullshit snickers pointed at you, you were left alone for the most part.

Sure – it sucked; that goes without saying. It was naïve of you to assume that people would grow out of the need for drama once they walked through the ivory doors and marble floors of higher education. It was stupid of you to think that everyone would forget about your outburst at Bodleian while they were getting drunk on the New Year.

And while Annabel was one migraine-inducing problem, she wasn’t the worst part of returning. No, that title belonged to her boyfriend, a whole other can of monkeys.

The worst part – the worst part of EVERYTHING – was how Felix fucking Catton was incapable of just leaving you the hell alone. It was like he had a little antenna sticking out of his head specifically for you whenever the two of you were within a ten-foot radius of him. Everywhere you went, it was as if you had a giant blinking arrow above you screaming, “Felix Catton’s New Toy”!

No, you were less than a toy – you were a joke, a gimmick.

God, you should have just stuck to your original plan and applied to any SUNY school that would have accepted you without even looking at your application.

But no, your good-Samaritan-obsessed college counselor called your parents and complained that you weren’t “putting yourself out there” enough. And now you were over thirty-four hundred miles away from home, stuck with the worst people ever. It was like a thousand tiny prickles were running on your skin as your mind filled with static.

Whenever Felix called out to you, it was to invite you to a party or get wasted. One time, he walked up to you insanely plastered and invited you for a quickie in the men’s bathroom. You were in an empty lecture hall since your usual spot in the library was taken, and Michael was still in class, so you didn’t see the point in trying to find an open spot.

Somehow – without you noticing – the guy plopped himself next to you and asked if there were any rooms in the building where he could smoke a joint in.

“Pretty sure you could open the window in the bathroom to smoke in there,” you replied absentmindedly.

And then he put his hand ON YOUR THIGH, leaned to your ear to whisper, “Wanna get out of here to join me? We don’t have only to get high.”

You grabbed all your shit and booked it – out of the building and all the way to your dorm to take a shower that lasted for around twenty minutes. You wanted to get rid of the smell of nicotine and overpriced aftershave. The scent of him on your skin made you wish you could tear it off.

And in your panic, you left your bike at the building’s entrance.

When you returned to retrieve it, it was after dark, and you recruited Michael as your tall and bony human shield.

“Do not ever walk home alone at night,” your mom told you every morning you left for school.

You tried not to think about the haunted look in her eyes each time she told you.

“Wanna skip the dining hall tonight? We can walk to Crowley Street and order take-out at that Pakistani place you like so much.”

Oh, that perked you right up. Jannahs Express was a broke college student’s paradise. The food was cheap, and the owners took pity on the international students. It was slightly more expensive in the UK, but it was the closest you could find with food on par to Kababish on Broadway in Queens. You stifled a laugh remembering the sight of Michael drinking the entire pitcher of water after you dared him to try a dish at ‘regular.’

“Seriously? Do you think you could take more than ‘English-mild’?” you asked as you stood up. “How did you survive your mom’s cooking for so long? She made us Indian food on our last night.”

“Mum grew up in London, and she had neighbors teach her how to make it the traditional way. You’re the only person who could take that level. Lilypad and I got Dad’s taste buds.”

Choking on your spit from laughing at the image of Gregory Gavey’s face turning firetruck red, you felt the migraine slowly disappear.

“Yeah, I’ll bet. God, I can’t imagine the look on his face when –”

A familiar voice that left a bitter taste in your mouth after hearing interrupted your conversation.

“Hey, (Y/N). Can we talk?”

You and Michael turned your heads to find Oliver Quick – Michael’s former friend, your former acquaintance – and the sight of him soured the mood instantaneously. You narrowed your eyes to dangerous slits to show your displeasure seeing him as one corner of your lip curled to show a sneer. You never liked the guy. There was just something about how he acted and presented himself. He had a profound desperation to impress everyone around him.

So much so that he immediately dropped Michael after becoming Felix Catton’s new pet. As evidenced by the oversized gray zip-up hoodie blanketing him. Felix’s, no doubt.

Fuck, you hated him.

“Ugh, what do you want?” you snapped, taking a bit of pleasure in seeing how your voice made him flinch.

“Look, can we –” his eyes hastily darted to Michael, then you, then behind him to make sure no one was watching him “– can we talk in private?”

Seriously? That’s how he wants to play this?

In the corner of your eye, you saw how tightly Michael clenched his fists. He was obviously still hurt from the time his ex-friend treated him like shit.

Oh, this will not do.

“Oliver,” you snarled as you crossed your arms over your chest, “whatever the hell you have to say to me, you can say in front of Michael.”

“Can you please not do this now?” he begged with pathetic eyes. How very in-character of him.

“Tick tock, Quick. Are you going to talk, or do I have to throw a drink in your face again? But this time, I’ll smash the glass on your face, too.”

Seeing the look on his face gave you almost a perverse sense of joy. Maybe this is why bullies exist.

“Do you think you’ll be at the pub sometime this week?”

What the fuck? Was he serious? His question caught you completely off-guard. You expected him to ask for notes or even help with homework, as his grades have slipped since becoming an official Felix Catton fanboy.

“At the pub – Oliver, when have I drunk alcohol in the entire time we’ve known each other?”

“You’ll turn nineteen this year, right? It’s only illegal if you’re under 18,” he tried to put out convincingly.

���Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. But you’re forgetting the part where I’m still an American citizen. Just because it’s legal for me to vote doesn’t mean it’s okay for me to drink yet.”

“No one cares about that here!” he almost shouted. “Just come with me to the pub at King’s Arms for the next few nights.”

“No fucking way,” you scoffed. “My parents would kill me if they found out I drank on a school night. Also, in case you forgot, we still have our test tomorrow in History. And I, for one, don’t need to get sloshed every night to feel important.”

Michael tugged on your sleeve and nodded at the small crowd forming around you three. You sighed in silence, agreeing that it wasn’t worth it. You both tried to walk away, but you were grabbed and stumbled back, which caused you to drop your books.

“Ow! Are you kidding–” but a wince broke your complaint as Oliver’s hold on your arm tightened to a painful grip. Your eyes traveled to his face, and you were shocked to see the anger shining in his eyes.

“Why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?” he grit out. “Are you trying to ruin my life?”

The way his nails dug into your skin made you curse under your breath. Seeing you in pain broke Michael out of his shock at how someone as meek as Oliver Quick could show so much aggression. He rushed to get him off you.

“Are you fucking mental?” he hissed at Oliver once he managed to separate to two of you.

But Oliver’s nail left red scratch marks down to your wrist, even breaking the skin enough to cause little beads of blood to escape. This enraged Michael like you have never seen. Staring at the evidence of his former friend’s clawing, he walked forward and pushed him to the bookshelf before grabbing his shirt with both hands.

“What’s wrong with you?” Michael yelled. “She already said no!”

You wiped the blood off your arm with an old travel tissue pack you stole from the plane you took from JFK to London last summer. God, everyone was staring at you guys now. You needed to find a way to contain the situation. If any staff catches you, all three of you may risk trouble. Trouble that would jeopardize your scholarships. You grabbed Michael’s hands to get him to loosen his grip.

“Look, I’ll hear you out–” you looked around and cringed at everyone’s stares, “–just not here.”

This calmed Oliver’s rage enough to get Michael to let go.

“Okay,” he whispered, “okay – yeah. Let’s go outside.”

The three of you grabbed your shit and quickly exited the library. You went to the same area behind the building with no windows – ergo, no bystanders to gawk at you.

“Okay, we’re outside. Look, I’m sorry about your arm. But can you please just –”

You lifted your hand to stop him.

“Okay, look. I only said I would hear you out to make you and Michael stop fighting,” you stated matter-of-factly. “None of us could afford to get in trouble with the faculty and staff, and it was getting too out-of-hand. Oliver, I am not going to King Arm’s tonight or any night you ask me. I have my own life, so don’t drag me into yours.”

Oliver gaped like a fish for a few seconds before speaking.

“But you have to! Please! If you do, then maybe he’ll –”

“WHO?” you interrupted, shouting. “Who will be there? Who is so important that you act so fucking psycho for five minutes ago?”

This was too much for you to deal with everything on your plate already.

“Cut the vague bullshit already! Why are you desperate for me to be there? It’s so –” You froze as an epiphany struck down you.

Oh, hell fucking no…

“Are you hoping that Felix will be there?” you asked through clenched teeth.

You felt like a volcano ready to blow with his slight nod. And like a volcano – you blew.

“You mean to tell me that you risked all our asses, attacked, and humiliated me for fucking FELIX CATTON?!”

You couldn’t believe it – you couldn’t fucking believe it. Felix Catton took up so much of your life already; once again, he felt it necessary to take more of it for himself.

How much more could one man take? How much more did he want until it was enough?

He had taken so much – more than any person other than yourself had any right to own. Your education, your peace, and what was next? Your body? Your life? Did he intend to bleed you dry of everything like a parasitic vampire he and his kind pretended not to be?

You were going crazy, insane, and running yourself tired all at once. The absurdity of it all made you laugh. You laughed and laughed and laughed until you were gasping for air. You laughed so hard that tears spilled from your eyes as you doubled over.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “oh my god! That’s it. Of course, it is. What else could it be?”

Standing straight, you kept laughing, but you were staring at Oliver with an answer clear in your eyes.

“He got bored of you,” you accused him, “didn’t he? So quickly?”

God, how you relished how red his face turned. If you were smart, you would have stopped taunting there – but you were too tired of everything to care.

“It’s been what? A month? Maybe two?” you further pressed. “He really just loves to go through all his toys, huh?”

“(Y/N),” Michael whispered in your ear, “let’s just go.”

He looked at Oliver with disdainful eyes before softening them to look back at you.

“He isn’t worth it. Come on, let’s get your cut cleaned up before we leave.”

You let Michael gently drag you away from the hurricane mess that was Oliver Quick, leaving him to stew in anger and wallow in self-pity on the chilly spring night.

A few days later, you and Michael were walking back to his dorm after watching one of the most notable movie franchises starring one of Hollywood’s best actors.

“How could you not love Pirates of the Caribbean?” you cried. “Johnny Depp is beyond brilliant!”

“Oh, so acting drunk in front of an expensive camera is now considered brilliant?” he quipped back. “Shit, I should have just gone into acting instead.”

“I’m sorry, do you not remember his jar of dirt? That scene was completely improvised, by the way – including his fall.”

“Oh – not the stupid jar of dirt! Lil’ kept buggering me all summer doing that scene after I took her to see it!”

“Oh, I meant to ask. What did Lily think of the books I got for her birthday? Were they weird?”

“Are you kidding? She loved them. She keeps going on about how she wants to be Annabeth for Halloween. Oh, by the way, she’s making me dress up as Luke and wants you to go as Thalia.”

Your jaw dropped in shock. “Seriously?! Yes, let’s do it. I am so in.”

“She is aware that Luke’s the villain, right?”

“Don’t worry about it so much. She wants to share these memories with you. And you are such a good brother, Mikey.”

“I am never going to escape that name with you,” he groaned, “am I?”

“Nope!” you happily confirmed. “Never! When I write my speech at your wedding, I will mention it at least fifteen times.”

“I’ll allow six.”

“Twelve.”

“Ten, take it or leave it.”

“Ten it is. Pinky-swear.”

You held out your pinky to show sincerity. And like someone raised correctly, Michael respected the sanctity of the swear by reciprocating.

“Perfect! Now that that’s settled, is it okay if I crash at your place for the night? It’s so late, and we don’t have classes tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied. “Just make sure you – Annabel.”

Wait, what? You stopped walking and turned to look at your friend in confusion.

“Annabel?”

He pointed it out in front of him with a slight nod.

“Annabel,” he confirmed.

Indeed, it was Annabel. But she was sitting slumped against the hallway’s walls with vomit all over her blue dress.

Felix had been going mad for the past few months since his and Farleigh’s return to Oxford. It was already almost May, and he hadn’t come any closer to getting (Y/N)’s attention.

What could he possibly be doing that was so wrong?

He invites you to parties or a drink with you every time he sees you. He had hoped that being friends with Ollie would have given him an “in” with you, but there was no such luck. Did you really have no idea how he felt about you? How much more obvious could he be?

He remembered how happy he was when he realized that Oliver knew you. It was that night at the pub at Kings’ Arms. He recalled it so vividly.

Felix was silent throughout the entire transaction. The sight of you coming over entirely transfixed him. Your hair had two small braids on the side that were attached with small yellow butterfly clips. You were wearing black denim overalls with vintage-looking patches sewn onto the fabric. Your shirt was a light blue-dyed shirt-sleeved t-shirt with splotches of navy blue. It must have been something you made when you were little. The fabric looked soft and worn down. But the size was small enough to hug the curves of your upper torso perfectly. The way the fabric stretched across your tits made him salivate.

After he introduced himself to you, you only responded with a grimace and a slight nod of acknowledgment. He invited you to join him and his friends for a drink, but you only ignored him. His words were meaningless breezes to you – white noise in the background that added to the clang and chatter in the room. He wasn’t even paying attention to Oliver until you threw that drink at him.

“Fucking cunt-rag!” you called Ollie after throwing Farleigh’s drink in his face. You shoved a middle finger for added effect. “Don’t ever show your face in front of me again.”

Grabbing your coat, you stomped away from the table.

Absentmindedly handing his friend some tissues, Felix had to know what your deal was with Oliver. Were you two dating or just friends? He didn’t know how he felt about his new friend being romantically involved with his angel.

“Wait, do you two know each other?” he asked.

“What?” asked Oliver – not understanding his idol’s question before his mind finally registered it. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, she’s a friend of a friend.”

“Were you two ever, like ‘together’?” Felix had to know.

Oliver’s eyes widened a bit before shaking his head and panickedly answering.

“No, no, no. We have a few classes together – that’s it.”

Felix couldn’t believe his luck. Ollie must really be his hero.

“Do you think you could introduce us?” he asked excitedly – his molten chocolate eyes were shining ablaze with hope.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Oliver quickly agreed – anything to keep his attention on him.

Felix felt like leaping to the sky. He could run a marathon with how much energy was flooding throughout him. He clapped his hands before grabbing Ollie’s face with both hands and smacking a wet kiss on both cheeks.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” Felix went up to get him another pint. “You’re my hero, Ollie. You really are.”

As he lay on his bed, he tried to remember every interaction with you. His last one with you was something he could admit went horribly wrong.

He wandered on the grounds when he stumbled on a building with your bike on the rack. Figuring that you were just in a lecture, Felix figured he could try to catch up with you when it was done. It wasn’t like he had anything important later. He would stay near the entrance and try to catch your attention when you walked out.

Simple.

And because he was God’s favorite, he found you sitting in the middle of an empty classroom. You were taking notes while reading a massive textbook while lightly bobbing your head to whatever was blasting through your earbuds.

Sliding to the seat next to you, he smoothly asked you if there was any room where he could smoke. You didn’t even bother to look at him while answering him – too fixated with your studies to pay attention to him.

Knowing that he had to get you to look at him through more direct actions, Felix impulsively put his hand on your thigh before asking you if you wanted to join him. He even joked, saying that you didn’t only have to get high.

But seeing the terror in your eyes threw him off. He quickly wanted to tell you that he was only joking. If you knew that he wasn’t being serious, maybe you would ease up around him. But before he could apologize, you frantically stood from your seat to gather your books in your bag before running out of the room.

Felix groaned into his hands as he recalled how fast you ran out of the room and away from him.

“Felix, you’re a fucking idiot,” he softly insulted himself.

God, what the hell was wrong with him? Why did he think that someone as studious as you would ever consider getting high with some bloke in the bathroom of an academic building?

Every step he tried to take forward with you felt like he was going ten steps back. He needed to find a way to get on your good side.

Maybe Ollie could – no, that was a dead end. Fuck, he needed a drink.

Lying on his bed, Oliver stared at the ceiling of his room. Annabel had just left with the bottle of vodka they had been drinking out of for the past half hour. He wanted to cry.

Why was everything going wrong?

But he knew the reason. It was you.

He was so naïve to think you wouldn’t be an obstacle. You had practically ruined everything from the beginning. It wasn’t just when you refused to help him the other day but also that night at the pub at Kings’ Arms.

While Felix was ordering him a drink, Oliver sat bewildered at the sequence of events that had transpired in the past five minutes. First, Felix invited him over to sit with him and his friends. And when things had been so well, you interrupted his excellent time by asking where Michael was. When you realize he has left your friend alone, you ask for Farleigh Start’s drink before throwing it in his face. You then called him a “cunt-rag” before storming off like a goddamn child.

Luckily, Felix hadn’t listened to you speak. But that was only because he stared at you – stared at you like he was born to worship you. Even worse, Felix asked him if he could introduce the two of you at some point. The way Felix’s eyes widened in glee when Oliver agreed enraged him – even more than when you insulted and almost humiliated him in front of Felix.

Staring at his back, Oliver figured Felix’s attention on you wasn’t something to worry about. He was only interested in you because you were pretty. As much as you infuriated him, Oliver admitted that you had a rare and genuine beauty to you. He didn’t know whether it was your indifference for Oxford’s gods and kings or your dedication to keeping in touch with your American roots – but it was enough to enrapture Felix Catton temporarily.

No, Oliver Quick had no reason to worry. He would be enough for Felix. And then you would be an afterthought, and he’d be Felix Catton’s everything.

Oliver had to find a way to ensure you wouldn't be a problem anymore. You'd comply - there would come a time when you won't have a choice.

Let me know if you want me to write the full scene of Reader throwing the drink at Oliver!

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @valeskafics, @asa-do-your-thing, @aphroditesmoon, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @aemondsbabe, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindnow, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss, @immyowndefender, @ilovemydinoboi, @ahristata, @cxp1d, @jinsoulorbitzen12, @temptation-waits, @bollzinurmouth, @jcngw0ns, @seababehh, @destinydestnation, @lankyboi4, @mindless-rock, @cassavacakes

Please comment and/or reblog your thoughts and if you want to be added to the taglist!

[ma1dita]

this will be our year

this was a request! find it here

words: 2.5k

summary: james does his best to plan reader's birthday! it's not as easy as you think

warnings: james is a leader not a planner, fluff!! bestfriend!james returns mwahaha

a/n: so sorry for this being literally two weeks after your birthday anon! life was kicking my ass but i hope you enjoy! writing many characters is something im trying to learn to make more organic

(posted and edited too many times to count 11/6/23)

—

There are a few things in life that James likes to think he’s very good at: making plans, pulling pranks, playing quidditch, and doing absolutely anything he can to make you smile. At first, he would laugh it off when his friends would say you two had something special. He is a gentleman, after all. James is the type of friend any of the girls would trust with a secret, or the one to borrow hair potion from when you’re in a pinch.

He loves to join in the gossip and crash your sleepovers when the boys are being ‘dreadfully boring’ (his words, not yours). He holds your bag when you walk to class (only yours, he’ll push Marlene’s books to the ground and run off laughing), bribes Peter with an extra helping of bacon to move his butt out of ‘your seat’ (whichever one was to the right of him) at breakfast, and definitely writes to his mom asking about what to get you for your birthday (and how much he’s been wanting to ask you out for almost about three years now).

Right... James is a great friend, so when you get all excited about your birthday, gushing about how you want to celebrate this year, he takes one look at the excitement on your face and hatches the perfect plan. Or so he thinks.

“I just can’t wait to celebrate with you guys, and not have to worry about exams, or projects, or boys, or curfew…” you muse, laying across Mary and Remus’s laps as everyone’s gathered in the common room. Sirius, and Peter are chasing each other with throw pillows while Dorcas and Lily share headphones on the other sofa. James beelines towards you, crawling across the open space.

“Boys? What boys have been worrying you, dove?” he says snidely, sneaking towards the space near your belly, looking up at your relaxed figure.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Mary giggles, and Remus huffs back laughter as he pats your head. James peers up at you as you smile knowingly.

“It’s a secret.” you smile, reaching out to poke his chin.

“You keep secrets from me now? From your most good-looking, bestest friend ever that plans the coolest awesomest birthday parties for you?”

Well, he did have a point. Ever since he accidentally flung you into the Black Lake third year in a prank meant for Snape, he’s almost always waited on you hand and foot. He had to, for your immediate response to laugh and flip him into the lake ‘qualified’ you as a Marauder (plus he thought you were really pretty—he swore he stopped crushing on Lily the next day.) And every birthday since has been bigger and better. Fourth year was the movie marathon out on the quidditch pitch; Fifth year was the picnic out next to Black Lake, and now you couldn’t wait to see what he has planned.

You look at the boy thoughtfully, smiling down at him and he swears it’s his favorite sight in the world.

“You don’t always have to know everything, Prongs…”

He chases after your hand with his mouth, trying to chomp one of your fingers. Idiot.

“Of course I do, or else no birthday party for you!” he jokes, and you giggle at the notion. He wouldn’t dare. He loves to celebrate you. Maybe this will be the year he asks you out… Is that cheesy? Or lame? James sighs, fussing with a string on his sweater, suddenly silent amongst the chaos of his lively friends. He’s got a lot of work to do.

—

The next week was filled with James’ hasty preparations and all of your friends were put up to the task of making his vision come together. Remus and Peter would get the booze, Mary and Alice would bake the sweet treats, Sirius and Lily were working on decorations, and Marlene and Dorcas were busy enchanting a record player to amplify through the party space James would get ready in the Room of Requirement. He’s been a little high-strung, overcalculating his endless to-do list to impress you.

All of them have been so…busy, and it was a bit lonely. You thought they might plan something with you, or for you, but you haven’t seen much of them in the past few days. Every bump in the corridor or spotting in the common room was a flurry of hushed whispers and giggles at jokes that flew over your head. Even dinner with them has been oddly silent, like watching a film but not being able to penetrate the scene that unfolds.

Peering down at the map one day after class, you see your friends’ names flitting around the map, all of them hanging out together, but not with you. That is, until a big hand nabs the parchment from your grasp.

“Hey!” “Sorry doll, need it for something important.” Sirius grins, pulling Lily along as they walk off briskly.

“Do you guys want to study later?” You call out after them, and they keep on walking, hands in their cloaks. Weird.

Many more of your requests have been denied. It’s a fickle thing, to suddenly feel unwanted in your group of friends. As a Marauder, you’ve earned your place there. But if Remus and Peter didn’t want to sneak out for a midnight snack, and Alice and Mary went shopping already, without you… Marlene and Dorcas were nowhere to be found.

That means you only had your favorite person to badger… James. You drag him into a broom closet after Muggle Studies one day, crossing your arms and looking up at him with frustration.

“Jeez, love, you’re stronger than you look!” He says sheepishly, hands landing on your waist.

“What are you all up to? Where have you been?” The pout on your face makes his knees weak, and it’d be so easy to just tell you….

No…He thinks, hardening his resolve as his thumb reaches out to smooth the crease in your forehead.

“Prongs,” you whine, poking his chest. The dim yellow lightbulb swings overhead, almost clobbering him in the skull.

“Why, you miss me that much?” He grins, prodding at your cheek. It’s cramped in here enough, and he hunches over your frame, unable to stop his smile at the look on your face.

“Yeah. I miss all of my friends. I sound like Moaning Myrtle whining after you lot! I wanna be involved in whatever you all are doing…” Delicate hands pull at the drawstrings of his hoodie and he feels like his chest tightens too.

“Hey, we haven’t forgotten you, so don’t worry, pretty girl. Your birthday’s coming up, right? You excited for that?” James’ thumb rubs at your cheek and he really wonders if, in any other instance, this could be platonic. Surely, you must like him too, right? Everything he does is to make you smile. He feels like he’s in a one-man show trying to embellish himself for your attention, and he’s waiting for the applause. Your hand grabs his as you lean into his touch.

“Got anything special planned?” You ask teasingly, and James can feel the warmth of your smile in his palm.

“For you? Of course.” He squeezes your cheek and you rip away from him, laughing. As you walk out of the closet, your shoulders bump as he wraps an arm around you.

“Don’t worry too much, dove. It’ll all work out,” he says, glad that you’re smiling again. “Wouldn’t let you have a terrible birthday. Never in a million years.”

“Exactly. What type of best friend would you be?” You smirk, walking off to your next class.

The thing is, he hopes you won’t be best friends by the end of it though. James huffs as he puts his hands in his pockets, walking in the opposite direction. This will be the year…. And it’s unsure if it’s a promise to himself or to you.

—

Of course, it wouldn’t be a Marauder plan of action without some mayhem. James had taken it upon himself to organize his big list of to-dos, assign jobs, and make sure everything was set up for your birthday. The Room of Requirement was decked out in enchanted sparklers, a huge cake was adorned by a spotlight in the corner of the room, and all your friends were there to celebrate you. Mary’s putting the final touches on the gift pile before she looks to Sirius and Peter, who are horsing around the room running through the balloons.

“Something’s missing,” she remarks, and the others scamper around to figure out what it is. Lily double checks the sound system for your favorite songs, Marlene makes sure the drinks are flowing and at the table set up in the back. Dorcas whacks Peter and Sirius to stop popping the balloons, and Remus, the smart one, turns on his heel to stomp towards James, who is looking like he could implode from stress at any given moment.

“Prongs…” Remus muses, unsure if he should laugh, or wring his neck.

“What did I forget?” he says sheepishly, looking down at his watch. A balloon pops.

“Did you invite the birthday girl?” Oh shit.

“HAH—Moony, you’re not supposed to be the funny one here, of course I….” his eyes fall down to his scroll of to-dos, looking at the only thing unmarked on his list.

• Get her to come to the best birthday celebration ever.

“I forgot to tell her, didn’t I…”

Right. James might’ve glossed over that one. His nervous laughter shrivels at the sight of his friends’ faces of disbelief as they bombard him with questions and profanities and so, he bolts out of there, trying to find you on the map.

—

Surprisingly, James finds you in the kitchen, sitting infront of a lone cupcake and the house elves singing you the worst rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ there ever was to magical folk. What should be his plan of action? Acting nonchalant, or owning up to his flub? All of his thoughts go out the window when he sees your despondent sigh at the lit candle, thinking your friends have forgotten his absolute favorite day of the entire year.

“Pretty girl, why are you so sad?” he says, rushing to meet you at the table. You’re pulling at your sleeves and looking at the cupcake in disappointment.

“Did you all forget about me?” you ask, bottom lip trembling at the notion. James shakes his head rapidly, so much so that his glasses are skewed as he looks at you.

“How could we forget the best birthday girl?”

“I’m the only birthday girl, and I haven’t seen any of you today. You didn’t even eat dinner with me,” you pout. Your huff of a sigh blows out the sad little candle, and it almost makes you want to crumple up in embarrassment. Your finger reaches out to sample some of the icing, and you bring it to your mouth, James following the movement with his eyes.

“I’m sorry dove. I might’ve messed up for this one,” he mutters, hating to see you upset.

“If you forgot to plan anything, it’s okay…. You’re not obligated to.” Your head falls to the slope of your shoulder, looking bashful at the idea of being celebrated. But James hasn’t gone all this way to see you unhappy.

“That’s the funny thing about it, erm…. I need you to come with me.” He pulls at your arm, but you won’t budge. How mortifying to conceptualize how you feel in this moment, feeling smaller than ever. A birthday is just a day, after all. Maybe they can make it up to you tomorrow.

“I dunno Prongs, I think I should just go to bed and wake up with a better attitude, yeah? It’s really oka–HEY!” James lifts you out of your chair and throws you over his shoulder, securing you to him before he bolts out of the kitchens. Your vision is blurred and all you can see is the massive muscles rippling down his back as he runs. His bum is quite nice too.

“James Potter, what in Merlin’s name do you think you’re doing? Put me down this instant or I’ll hex you into next week!” You screech, before he puts a silencing charm on you to not alert Filch of your antics. You reach out to hit his buttock as he exclaims, “Ow! Cheeky…. I promise you’ll like this, dove. You really thought we’d forget your birthday?”

There comes a point when he paces back and forth in front of the same stretch of wall and you think he’s insane, talking to himself and turning in circles. After the third lap, he sets you down, your arms crossed and quite stern at the trip he’s taken you on. James smooths your hair down before he looks you in the eyes, standing a bit closer than a friend would, but Godric is he excited to show you his work.

“Ahem. Do you really think I’d forget your big day, pretty girl? It’s my favorite day of the year!” He smiles and you shake your head with a smile. He nudges the door open to reveal all your friends, yelling “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

Still inaudible, your mouth is gaping wide in shock, silent laughter escaping your mouth. Marlene and Dorcas carry the cake over to you before they sing in all sorts of tunes, none of them on key and possibly worse than the house elves. The light of the candles caresses the warmth in your cheeks as you look at your friends in wonder. You mumble something like a ‘thank you’ but they can’t comprehend it until Remus undoes the charm, whacking James across the head.

—

Later, James sneaks behind you, throwing an arm around your waist, whispering ‘Happy birthday’ for the millionth time, but he’ll never get tired of telling you how much he cares.

“Are you happy, birthday girl?” he smiles, and you get on your tiptoes to give him a kiss that lands on the corner of his mouth. The applause is back, thundering in his ears before he realizes it’s the sound of his heart when you’re near.

Yeah, this will be the year everything changes. His plans are racking up into a list in his brain as you gaze at him all starry-eyed and smiley. Your friends are all looking at you knowingly, and he can’t wait to get to work, for there is just so much to do.

—

“In case you foolishly forget: I am never not thinking of you.” - Virginia Woolf

taglist: @jsjcue

love me some tunes! i listened to this while writing: this will be our year by lowland hum

[nevernonline]

could i have (ot13 if comfortable but if not 95z and/or 96z) reaction to 14th member!reader debuting in a famous girl group aswell as being in svt, and how they would react if reader was to perform a "sexy" song during an award show <3

hi!! thank yew sm for the rec! they ended up getting LONG im so sorry, so I did everyone thru hoshi for now. if you want the rest pls come back to me lol. please enjoy, I hope you like it!! xo.

svt reactions to member and their gg doing a sexy debut concept:

seungcheol: 

You decided to keep your new debut song as a secret from the rest of the boys. A little bit because you figured they’d roast you and a little bit because you were afraid of Seungcheol's reaction to the semi-skimpy outfit you were wearing. Behind the stage you caught a small glimpse of the monitor and noticed the members sitting just directly to the right of the performance stage, a perfect spot to see you in full view. Seungcheol was somewhat of an authority figure to you and ever since you could remember he was the one you wanted to impress the most. The sound of your in-ear kicked in and a stage direction came through it was time to take your place under the bright red lights donning the arena. Out of the corner of your eye you watched as he and the rest of the group clapped wildly while the music came over the speakers. You and your red lace tights, with a matching mini dress, and black garter began the carefully practiced movements. Seungcheol’s smile fell less and less as you continued your performance, not for the reason people thought, well maybe a little. He had never seen you like that, sexy and confident parading around in a dress that just slightly covered your butt. When the night was over you headed back to your room, he was sitting waiting for you outside. Just a subtle finger wave pulled you over to him and he confessed something through his clenched jaw. You looked too good for him to handle himself and that he wanted to be the only person who got to take you home, his jealousy got the better of him that night, but he knows now you only belonged to him.

jeonghan: 

When Jeonghan found out you were debuting in a new unit he felt a little welcome of the green monster inside of him, not because you were moving on or moving up, whatever, but because he wasn’t the one controlling all of your attention anymore. You made new friends, you were off spending all of your nights practicing, getting a new hairstyle, clothes, a new life almost. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been over the moon happy for you, but that he just missed you. The days before your debut showcase, you sent a text to all the members an invitation to come watch the show, everyone replied, besides Jeonghan. It was weird to you, like, you weren’t sure the exact reasons he wouldn’t respond. He was still posting on instagram, weverse, going to work with the rest of the boys, but avoiding you. When the day finally came you saw the smiling faces of twelve of your friends in the crowd, missing the prettiest face of them all. You took your marks lying down on the floor, feeling your adrenaline rushing in your veins. As the saxophone started your hips left their original position on the floor and your head raised up greeted with the familiar lips of Jeonghan, smirking in your face. You felt the blood in your body boil, forcing you to hit the sultry choreography even harder than you normally would. Essentially showing off for him, grinding your hips fully into the movement, never leaving his gaze. After the showcase was over you and your members were all in the greenroom celebrating, when a knock came onto the door. A bouquet of flowers with a small pink note sticking out of them. ‘Down for a private showcase and an apology? 8:00pm at my place. Please come.’ - JH.

joshua:

When it came to you Joshua was just a little awkward, he never knew how to relate to you, not that he didn’t want to, it was just that you were fundamentally different. The members were asked to react for your group's YouTube channel to your new music video to a new title track called ‘What would you do?’ The concept was based around a girl having too many options for her next boyfriend after her ex was too jealous to keep her around. The reactions from the rest of the group were explosive and loud as they watched you and your members flirting with different guys in outfits that left basically nothing to the imagination. There was a moment in the music video that had him side eyeing the group around him, cheering you on as you kissed a random extra on the mouth, before he stripped you of your button down t-shirt. The feeling in his stomach was something he never felt towards you before. Suddenly he felt like that video was a message, Joshua was always jealous of the amount of male attention you had gotten, especially from outside people who you didn’t even know. He always tried to protect you from the gaze of them or their advances towards you. He realized how much he related to your on screen boyfriend, the one who wasn’t sure how to handle their partner getting a little too much attention from other sources and not enough from them, but he never made it clear that he felt that way and it wasn’t fair that he could be so filled with envy when you’re just doing your job. When the black screen came on the laptop, you asked the seventeen members their thoughts, Joshua stayed pretty quiet, just agreeing with the praises from everyone else. As the room became more empty he took a chance to come over to you and tell you his own thoughts without the camera rolling or other ears listening in. He admitted his jealousy and the reasons why he has been awkward around you as of late. It’s because he wanted you badly, but he was too shy until now to say it. 

jun: 

You and Jun had been secretly dating for over a year, it was easy to do. I mean mostly everyone saw you together twenty-four-seven anyway. You’ve been best friends at the company since you both got your contracts. Two friends who didn’t speak each other's languages but were willing to learn and grow together. When you got the invitation to debut in a new group outside of him, he was ecstatic for you, celebrating all the hard work you both put in for many years. It wasn’t hard telling him everything about what you and the rest of the girls were practicing and working on, you constantly showed him clips and had him listen to recordings from your debut EP you had been working on. One night you and Jun were sitting on the floor of your dorm, looking through the work you both had to do for the coming days when he came across a new file of your dance practice. He spotted you right away, tight white tank top and short denim shorts, your long socks pulled up past your knees. Before pressing play he flipped the screen of the ipad toward you with a menacing look on his face, basically begging for you to come clean about this particular video. He knew the concept of your group was not childish like girl crush or high schoolers, but he didn’t expect it to be so, what did he call it? Dirty? You prompted him to press play and he did multiple times over.

soonyoung:

Soonyoung wasn't used to you asking for help, especially with dance. But when you called him for help he was happy to oblige you and give you any advice you needed, you booked out a studio space, a room with dark colored walls and sultry lighting, soonyoung had come before you to warm up and mess around with some choreography on his own. The padlock of the door buzzed, revealing you in an oversized hoodie covering the tight pair of shorts underneath. Your hair was down, you had no makeup on, but you were accompanied by the singular black bar chair you dragged in your hand behind you. “Soony, hi. Thank you for coming.” Soonyoung greeted you and ran up to your side, helping you with your bag and the ominous chair. “I’m shocked you needed my help.” You shake your head, knowing exactly where he was coming from, but he was your only hope of getting comfortable with your new concept. Someone brave and not shy when it came to performing. “Once you see what it is, maybe you’ll think differently.” The bright screen of your laptop ignited between you as you pressed play to watch your performance leader and the choreographer dancing a passionate partner dance, involving that very black chair the male had been confused about before. “You guys are doing this?” You just shook your head yes pressing pause on the rest of the video where your male counterpart will exit the stage. “If you don’t want to help it’s okay, I get it.” Soonyoung pressed himself up off the ground, and grabbed your hands indicating he was willing to help. “No, I do. Come on.” He remembered all the times you were shy of physical touch, except from him. As you worked on the dance you had gotten closer and closer, his hands rested on your lower back as you twirled your body around the chair, ending with a moment of you straddling his thighs before the ending of his part where he picks you up for a partner lift, holding your barely clothes butt in his hands. He couldn’t imagine you getting the opportunity to do this with anybody else, not to mention in front of a crowd of people and many more online. As your body slid it’s way down his and you tried to break contact to walk and stop the music, he couldn’t let go. 

[mikefrawley]

We Are Worthy

Greetings my friends, and yes that is the old poet in living color. I hope everyone is well today. I was thinking about my be good to yourself posts from two or three months ago, and decided I needed to remind myself how good life actually is and how blessed we all truly are. After making some growth producing changes, you could accurately state that I was indeed comfortably perched atop my own personal pink cloud, which is a 12 step phrase generally describing the emotional state of someone who just turned their lives around one way or another. Well I must admit that was quite a wonderful feeling, and I truly enjoyed sharing positive thoughts and words with my friends here and at work, but then life seemed to throw in a monkey wrench as life is ofttimes wont to do. May came along and after almost 42 years as a computer programmer it was obviously time to retire, even though I probably wouldn't have made the decision on my own, my company graciously assisted me by kicking my butt out the door. For the first couple of weeks I was pretty shook up. I mean, I've never been retired before. What was I supposed to do? Miracously it turned out to be a blessing in disguise by forcing me to keep both my mind and body busy. I've taken care of some admittedly confusing yet necessary financial updates, and with all the time on my hands, I've been taking several walks a day, meditating, and watching Thich Nhat Hanh and Plum Village Videos on my computer. That was a good start, but I still had too much time on my hands and needed to take action. I first started by checking my Medicare Provider and found out that they would pay for a gym membership. I went over the next mornning and got a full membership, and I have really enjoyed it for about three weeks now. I had been trying to find a place for Buddhist Meditation or a Temple with very little luck, and by coincidence (if you happen to believe in such things, which I do not), I found a martial arts school which teaches Tai Chi. After a little more digging I discovered the teacher was from the same Chinese Boxing Lineage that I had studied with over 30 years ago. It's a small world indeed, but wait, it gets even better. I found out that my insurance would pay for the Tai Chi Class as well, and yes I signed up immediately. I apologize if this post is selfish, but it felt good to write, and maybe there is a small moral to the story. Yes everything is going surprisingly well for me, and while I'm very grateful to God, Love, Grace or whatever you wish to call it, I'm partially in this very enjoyable position because I've done what I needed to do. Admittedly I haven't always done very well with that part of it, but maybe I am deserving of my best, aren't you deserving of your best? That's about all for now, but please remember, you are indeed worthy of good things. Love to all, Mike 🩷

[khyys]

“Do you even know how to love?”

word count: 2990

content: 1st & 3rd divider by @/xurengu0 , 2nd divider by @/aquazero, 4th divider by @/anitalenia thank u guys :3. this is part two of “as dense as a rock” click this to read part one. farleigh start x fem!reader, saltburn spoilers, insinuations of spicy stuff, indications of 👃ing ❄️,

a/n: here’s part two! please enjoy. I’m sorry this took me so long to finish and post. School kicked my butt, then life, and it was just one after the other. But I’ve had a lot of motivation for writing, so I’ve been able to finish some projects, continue working projects, and make new projects! With all that being said, please enjoy! <3

You stared in awe at the request, and while it was a simple request, it was Farleigh you were talking about here, it was never *just* what he said it was.

After a few moments, the lack of sound became awkward and you cleared your throat before averting your gaze from his, and in record time too. You would stare for hours more if he let you, drowning in the warmth of him.

“Uh.. Yea. Sure, we can talk after dinner. Just, I don’t want to be out late. So this had better not take long.”, you sighed and made a step to wake past the taller.

As you walked, you could hear him following behind you at a rather long distance. Likely, he didn’t want to be seen late with you. You practically strutted into the dining hall, greeting Duncan with a nod and taking your place beside Venetia, who waved at you.

“Y/N, dear, are you alright?”, Elspeth asked, whilst nearing her glass to her lips. “The dress, dear, how do you like it?”

You smiled at the woman and straightened your posture, before nodding. Before you responded, the doors opened again and there he was. He took his place, across from you, beside Felix. You stared for a moment, whilst he thanked Duncan for filling his glass before turning to Elspeth again.

“The dress, yes, it’s perfect just as you said. It fits me perfectly, and I didn’t realize how well it fits the season.”

Elspeth smiled at your response, as if impressed by it.

“Wonderful. Please, try to get ample rest tonight, won’t you, dear? I have ordered a tailor to come and mend some dresses I used to wear back in the day. Is that alright with you?”

You opened your mouth to answer and caught Farleigh’s gaze on the corner of your eye, who’s cheek was stretching by the way his tongue pushed at his gums. He was expecting you to say something, and you were compelled to obey. You couldn’t imagine a world where you didn’t..

“Could we reschedule it? I.. I- I’d wanted to try and contact my family, and I want to make sure I tell them everything! I don’t want to forget a single detail.”

Elspeth thought for a moment, and sighed.

“Yes, I see. You are from America, perhaps Farleigh will be of assistance then. He is from there, but his time at Saltburn is practically unmeasurable. Farleigh, you’ll help Y/N with her letter to her parents, yes? Perhaps, you’ll even contact your mother, it’s been a while.”

Farleigh clearly hadn’t been listening, because his gaze was still fixed on you. Focused even, it made your heart stop. Felix had probably kicked his leg or something, because it was almost as if he was woken from a trance and nodded, smiling at Elspeth.

“I’ll help her, auntie. She’ll be just fine.”

“I’d hope so.”, she said with a nod and turned her attention to Duncan. “We’re ready to eat.”

“Understood, I will begin serving.”, he said in a deadpan tone.

Dinner went as it usually did. You held conversation with Venetia, laughing like two preschool girls. Felix maintained conversation with Farleigh, but no matter what, you felt his eyes boring holes in your skin. You and James, or Mr. Catton, had shared a few words about your previous meeting in his study, discussing his businesses.

The food, per usual, was cooked to utter perfection and you enjoyed it just as you had the entire summer. However, you couldn’t help that you were being watched. Sure, you didn’t eat like everyone else but nobody cared. That is until you looked up and saw him, eyeballing the way the prongs of your fork disappeared in between your plush lips. You stared back at him, arching a brow. In response, he only smiled.

This was some game to him, and part of you loved the thrill, but it wasn’t all that enticing. You were set, confident, that Farleigh had no interest in you. No serious interest, that is. You still held a small anger towards him for accusing you of wanting to get with Felix. You and Felix were friends, but anything beyond that just didn’t seem in the cards for you.

You knew that for a fact when you considered devising a plan to make him jealous, but that only sounded even more childish. You couldn’t believe how hellbent you were. All over the likes of Farleigh… All over a 6’5, slender, curly haired beauty… With the voice that would make an angel cry. It sure made you cry, because you couldn’t have it.

After dinner and dessert, you had tried to prolong leaving the table as much as you could. Part of you was eager to get up and excuse yourself from dinner, but being alone with Farleigh was something that you weren’t sure about completely. Even the way he slouched in his seat made you slightly nervous.

First Felix, then Venetia, Elspeth was the last to leave the table that night and all that was left was you, and him. You stared at the cloth of the table, evading his direct gaze before lowering your glass for the final time. The silence was starting to cause a small ringing in your ears, but he shifted and leaned forward, with a stupidly adorable grin on his face.

“Are you finally done avoiding me? Or can you fit more dessert?”

You grumbled and grabbed your purse before standing up and turning to the exit. What were you doing? You said you’d talk after dinner, where were you going?! You didn’t know.. maybe you thought if he really wanted to talk to you, he’d come for you. He’d chase you like a beast, trying to catch that one meal.. that got away.

You expected it, nonetheless. Farleigh loved games, and he was never one to back down from a challenge. You traversed the hallways, listening to excited and hushed chuckles trailing behind you. His presence made the hairs on your nape stand at attention, before you felt warm hands on your wrist.

“Trying to run away, hm? I thought you said we’d talk…”, he gave you that teasing pouty face. The one that made you want to slap him and then kiss him all better. “Is it because I called you a whore for my cousin?”

You stared at him and snatched your wrist from him.

“I am not trying to run away. I… What do you want?”, you asked. Your tone was cold, and you spoke with a sort of exasperation.

“I want to talk. Outside.”

“Right here is just fine, Farleigh. It’s cold, and I don’t want this dress getting messed up.”

Farleigh watched you for a moment, and bent down, being now only a couple of inches from your face. His eyes stared into yours and you averted him, like oil and water. You could feel his breath on your lips, and you’re sure he could feel your breath on his.

You couldn’t deviate much longer, until you met his gaze. Once you were in, he locked you in. You couldn’t turn your head, were you scared too? Did he really have that big of a grip on you?

“Do you really want to do this here? Anybody could see us, hell, Felix could walk out of his room now.. and see his new toy becoming *my* new toy.”

The breath in your chest was gone, and you couldn’t inhale for any. You stood there, unresponsive and wide-eyed like a deer in headlights.

Maybe he was trying to get a response out of you because he edged closer, his gaze moving down to your lips. With a swift hand movement, you grabbed his hair and moved his head aside. He hissed and whined slightly, before you quickly released his hair.

“I’m- shit! I’m sorry!”

He returned to his full height and rubbed his head, checking his fingers for any blood before hooking a finger under your chin and moving you closer to him.

“You’re a kinky one, aren’t you? Really. I think Felix might like you!”

Your look of concern and worry turned to once of dullness and a slight rage. You bit your tongue, and brushed your eyelashes with the pad of your finger before turning around.

“Let’s go. We are going to talk, and that’s it. Do I make myself perfectly fucking clear?”

Farleigh practically jumped to your side and offered his arm with a cheesy grin, before you looked at him for a split second and continued walking and you could hear the defeated sigh behind which caused a small grin to appear on your face.

Outside, the air was brisk and cold, causing a shiver to cree up your spine. You didn’t want to be outside like this. Your dress was spaghetti strapped which still tended to slide off every now and then. You stared up at the moon, and sighed. Saltburn was beautiful at night, like a dreamland, almost.

“Do you think.. I’m stupid, Y/N?”

What a way to ruin such a majestic moment… You turned to face the taller and arched your brow.

“What are you on about, Farleigh? What kind of question is that?”

“A simple one. Now answer me, do you think that I am stupid?”, he repeated in a low tone, as if demanding you.

You were slightly taken aback by his tone and shift of mood, before he moved ahead. He walked down the stairs and before he could get too far, he turned back and gestured for you to follow him.

As if being pulled by a string, you followed behind him and tried to catch up to him. His long strides were equivalent to about three of your steps, so you lifted your dress as to avoid any collateral to the dramatic fabrics, before falling a step behind the male.

Where he was going, you could’ve say… He could be trying to pull you into the fields, or.. go skinny dipping in the pool?

“A little fiend, with the habit of smoking and using cheap perfume to cover it up, told me… that I could be so stupid”, he started. “Pfft, she didn’t even stop there. She said I was clueless, oblivious! I just have to know, is that what you two giggle about all the time?”

Your lips straightened tightly as the response, as you lowered your head. You felt cornered in the wide yard of Saltburn. You knew Venetia would eventually sing like a bird.. but she sung in riddle, so maybe Farleigh wasn’t.. because he didn’t ask anybody else, or not that you knew of, but he certainly asked you, and to go this far, it’s something serious, right? Like your feelings for him..

Before you knew it, you were walking into the maze. You hated mazes. Ever since the big accident when you were six, you couldn’t stand a maze. You never dared set foot in another one, but you just couldn’t stop following him. It’s like he had a leash around your throat, and even if you tried to defy his motion, he’d still just pull you along. But you trusted something in Farleigh.

When the four of you had spent the night in the field, you all told each other your childish fears. Felix was afraid of doppelgängers, Venetia was afraid of ugliness, oddly similar to her mother, and Farleigh.. well.. he didn’t really answer. He said he was afraid of not having enough to sniff, but that just didn’t seem genuine, and yet even now, you trusted him with your darkest fear.

It felt likes dreary hours of walking had passed you by before you were met with a menacing figure that was stationed atop a stone pedestal. Farleigh stood at a distance, staring up at the still depiction. It was creepy, almost as if Farleigh and the being shared a conversation. You stood only a step behind the taller, hands resting at your side.

The tension was thick, you could tell. He had asked you so many questions thus far, it was so clear that he wanted a direct answer for once…

“I don’t think you’re stupid… but, you are.. really oblivious.”, you sighed and began to pick at your nails, a nervous habit you’ve had since sophomore year of highschool. “Farleigh.. I have.. never, ever wanted Felix. He will always be a friend.”

He glanced back, a stupid grin on his face followed by a snicker.

“Then what did you want? Don’t tell me you did all this to get up under Uncle? Or rather.. on top of Uncle..”

Your expression soured and you huffed, dropping your hands back down to your side. You wanted to cry, being reminded of that nauseating embarrassment. Being teased and made fun of, especially when it was funny.

Without a thought, you moved in front of him to which his eyes fell to yours, and by surprise, you weren’t bewitched. You pointed your finger at him, before repeatedly poking at his chest.

“You half witted, dense motherrfucker! Goddamnit, Farleigh! You, I wanted you! All this time, I wanted Felix to be friends with me so I could get to you! I’ve liked you since we got assigned that reading project! Even after you treated me like shit! You got me wasted as fuck, and then.. you.. you fucking left me to do it all alone! Ugh! You are so self absorbed and inconsiderate. God, Farleigh! I hate you!”

Each word poured out of your mouth like a never ending bottle of wine, tainted with the spices of your passionate emotion and raw feeling. You panted as you finished, realizing you hadn’t breathed once after all of that. You could feel his eyes on you, and when you looked up, he seemed calm. It was unsettling.

He was just.. staring at you with a mellowed smirk. You hated it, and yet you wanted to kiss him so badly. You wanted to lock your lips with his, having always wondered what they could possibly taste like. Would they send you on a high? Would they be as bitter as his tongue?

As if he read your mind, he stepped closer. You stepped back. He stepped closer again, and you stepped back. This time, whilst he stepped, he grabbed your hand and interlocked his large digits with yours. You tried to step back, but you were met with the cold stone of the statue, not daring to look up.

He leaned closer towards you, this time leaning down. You could feel his breath against your lips. You.. really wanted to kiss him.

“If you wanted me, then why didn’t you just say that?”, he asked softly.

He moved closer, but instead you turned your head from him. It was.. odd. You’d wanted this. You wanted his attention. You wanted him to care. You wanted him to react. You wanted him to like you, and that’s what stopped you. Did he even like you?

“I… I don’t want you to do this.”

“Do what? If anything, I thought you’d want me to kiss you.”, he said and detached from your hand, and instead grasped your chin, using his thumb to caress your bottom lip. “Isn’t that what you wanted from all this?”

“I do.. it’s just. Do you want this?”, you asked in a soft, inquiring tone.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want me too? Don’t just.. kiss me because I want it. Kiss me because.. you’ve been thinking about my lips the way that I’ve thought about yours.. I don’t want this, I don’t want us to be forced because of my desires. Farleigh, I want you to want me. I want you to love me..”

You hadn’t realized it until the wind blew, as if a warning for what you’d just said. You used the L word, but you were sure Farleigh knew what you meant, right?

“Fuck, you sound like a lovesick puppy. If I’d known you wanted me this badly, I’d have skipped all the other bullshit..”

You sighed and chewed on your bottom lip, looking at him. Begging for a genuine response. You wanted to know. Did he even feel a slight spark? Anything? But.. he said nothing. He just stared into your eyes, almost with something of an apathy for your emotions. It made you want to cry, and you did. Your eyes got glossy and stung from the cold air, as you searched for anything in his eyes. A feeling, a thought, anything. But there was nothing.

“Just… forget… I.. just forget I said anything..”, you mumbled shakily, and moved past him. You started to walk away, until you felt an arm grab your hand, pull you in, and hold your arm.

“What if I said I did love you?”

You sniffled, refusing to look into his eyes again. You knew you’d fall under his spell in a matter of seconds of looking. You didn’t want to fall for it anymore, you couldn’t. It hurt too much.

“You can’t just say it, Farleigh. You have to mean it, with everything. You have to be so sure, more sure about it than your own name, that you love me.”

For a moment , it was silent whilst the two of you stood there. You shivered and shook, wiping your eyes and breathing softly. You didn’t want to, but you looked up to try and assess him. This time his expression made it worse.

He looked confused; perplexed; simply dumbfounded. That made your blood boil with anger, and you felt nothing but pure humiliation. You stared and snatched your arm from him, slowly stepping back. The words were there and they banged against your lips, begging for you to let them fly, be free of their cage.

“…D..— Do you even know how to love?!”

THE END.

[tinyfishtits]

Reader, being a new member but oh so tough gunslinger as well, doing excellent at the latest heist with the gang. Micah seeing this, can't comprehend what his inner turmoil is about (pssst - it is catching feelings)

have a good day!

Another day, another Ask answered! Thanks for this prompt anon! Got carried away with the heist of it all but hope ya like it 🤠 TW: Some violence and brief mention of blood

“Need an extra gun?” I cut in, the group of men before me fell quiet. Bill and Micah practically sneered at me. Arthur, however, considered. He’d been the one to introduce me to the gang a week ago after I saved his ass in a robbery job gone sideways back in Valentine. He knew at the very least that I could handle myself with a gun. 

With an exasperated sigh he said, “If it means I’m not stuck with these lugs… sure.” 

Bill gawked at him, instantly going sour at the prospect. “Wha-” He stuttered, “You can't be serious!” Arthur ignored him, walking over to mount his horse. “Can’t believe this…” Bill grumbled to Micah, who was eying me up like a cow at auction, “First Arthur butts in now this?? There ain’t gonna be no money left to split!” 

Micah narrowed his eyes at Bill, it seemed the man got on everyone's nerves, “There better be.” Micah warned, “You said there was a few hundred in that coach, you lyin’?” Bill just huffed in reply, stomping off to the horses. 

With one last lingering glance at me, Micah strode over to his mount, the three men now waiting for me. “Uh-” I hesitated, “I don’t have a horse.” 

Arthur pointed to a grazing horse a few feet away, “Have Kieran saddle that one up for ya.” Bill let out an exaggerated groan at the wait.

“Just get over here, doll.” Micah said, stretching a hand out to me. When I hesitated he added, “Baylocks a big boy, he can handle ya.” Taking my hand he effortlessly swung me up behind him, my ass on the horses bare back. Without a second to situate myself he kicked the horse forward and I jolted, white knuckling Micah’s leather jacket to keep myself from slipping off, much to his amusement. 

Trying not to let the nervousness I felt at the prospect of tumbling to the ground show, I asked, “How far we goin’?” 

“Dewberry Creek.” He said simply, though I could almost hear the smirk in his voice as he added, “Better hold on tighter than that, darlin’.” And spurred Baylock into a gallop. I gasped, my arms wrapping around his middle as I held onto him for dear life, my eyes clamped shut. 

I could count the times I’d ridden a horse on one hand, never having had the luxury to learn. Nor was it a necessity in the small town I’d been brought up in. Shooting, however, was where I made up for my general lack of skill in most other areas. It came easy to me. 

Micah steered us off the main road, following the creek up north as Bill told us the plan, if you could even call it that. “The coach should be coming down from New Hanover, We’ll get ‘em when they cross the creek.” 

“Get them how?” Arthur asked, his tone laced with annoyance. 

“Uh- Y’know… Shoot ‘em” Bill spluttered. “Bill…” Arthur groaned. We were already coming up on the fork in the road the coach would be passing through. 

“Hell, I don’t know Arthur! You’re the expert!” 

“You- This was your damn idea!” The two began bickering. 

“Would ya shut up!” Micah yelled at them as the coach came into view on the hill above, along with four mounted gunmen flanking it on all sides and two more trailing behind. 

“Shit.” Arthur muttered, “You said it wouldn’t be guarded!”  “Well… I, uh, miscalculated.” Bill grumbled. 

Then, instead of turning down the road to where we waited in the dried up creek bed, the coach kept going straight up toward Emerald Ranch. 

“Dammit Bill…” Micah said, rearing Baylock to chase after them when Bill just… started shooting. 

The coach swerved as the horses pulling it attempted to flee from the gunfire that sputtered erratically at the path in front of them. Veering off the road, the coach lost balance and tumbled to the creek below with a thundering CRASH. 

Disoriented by the sudden chaos erupting around them, the mounted gunmen hesitated to retaliate. Still partially concealed by the steep hill of the creek's bank, they couldn’t make out where we were. Wasting no time, I slipped down from the horse, revolver in hand and began shooting. 

No longer needing to worry about stopping the coach I focused my fire on the gunmen, picking them off one by one. After the first one went down with a clean shot to the head, the others rushed me. Two of them jumped from their horses, running toward me while the other three continued down the path and were quickly pursued by Arthur and Bill. 

They came at me from either side, their aim so piss poor I didn’t even flinch at the gunfire which landed a good several feet from me. Pivoting on my heels I took them both out in a single spin. Though my aim wasn’t as perfect as I would have liked, having only got one in the head while the other writhed around, a hand clutching his throat as it erupted in a fountain of blood. I walked over and put him swiftly out of his misery. 

Looking up from their corpses I saw Micah watching me, having only just dismounted his horse. A figure flashed in my peripheral, the coach driver. He fled up the hill, almost over the crest of it when, giving it no more than a sidelong glance, I shot him square in the chest. 

I turned back to Micah who cocked his head, his attention fixed on me as he seemed to really notice me for the first time. I twirled my revolver around my finger before holstering it, shooting Micah a smirk. He prided himself on being a good gunslinger, he’d made that abundantly clear even in the short time I’d been at the camp. But by the look on his face, I liked to think I was giving him a run for his money and he knew it. 

“Everything alright?” Arthur yelled to us as he and Bill rounded the hill. I walked up to the coach, whose rear safe had been busted open in the crash and let out a whistle. Bill was right, there was a good few hundred in cash alone, not even counting the two gold bars. “I’d say so…” I replied. 

I could feel Micah’s eyes on me as he joined me by the coach, hands on his hips as he continued to look me over. I whipped my head around to face him when I caught a gleam of movement from the side of the coach. Another man crawled out from under the debris, bloodied and battered from the fall with a pistol in hand which he shakily raised, pointing it at Micah’s back. 

Micah’s eyes flicked to my hand as I whipped my gun from my holster. Turning with my movement he shot at the man in the same second I pulled my trigger. Both of our bullets landing in his forehead and with a dull ‘thunk’ the man slumped over face first into the mud.

“Well, I think that’s all of ‘em.” I said. They all looked at me in silence, Arthur and Bill only just now reaching for their sidearms. The surprise on their faces wasn't as… vindicating as I had anticipated. I felt more annoyed than anything that they thought so little of me. Did I really come off that helpless?

Their attention quickly returned to the money. “Ha!” Bill barked a laugh, greedily grabbing up the gold bars, “I told ya!” He exclaimed, elbowing Arthur in the side, “Look at all this-” 

“Remember to give the camp its share.” Arthur chided, snatching the gold and cash from his hands before dispersing it evenly between us all. Bill huffed and grumbled to himself before heading back to his horse. Only Arthur seemed to notice the bodies strewn about and tipped his hat to me with a quick, “Nice work.” Before mounting his horse as well.

“Now make yourself scarce!” He yelled back to us as he rode away. 

Micah was rubbing thoughtfully at his facial hair when I turned back to him, eyes narrowed as he surveyed me. 

“What?” I asked, not bothering to hide the annoyance in my voice at his wandering eyes. I felt a little stupid for expecting him to comment on my shooting, even more so when I was disappointed he didn’t. He straightened, clearing his throat his only response before he started off toward Baylock. 

He mounted the horse expertly, reaching a hand out to me once more. My face crinkled at the thought of bouncing around on the horse's bare ass for the ride back. 

“I want the saddle.” I said simply. Micah’s brows rose at the request, a smirk on his lips as he pushed himself over the back of the saddle and patted it. My attempt to mount the beast wasn’t nearly as graceful as his had been, though I was able to haul myself up on my first try, much to my own surprise. 

Feeling a little over confident in my ability to get us back to camp, adrenaline still coursing through my veins, I nudged Baylock forward and he instantly started into a gallop. A shocked yelp escaped my lips as I grasped at the saddle horn, fumbling to keep hold of the reins at the same time. 

Micah chuckled behind me, his hands reaching out to hold me steady. “You wanna keep yourself up with your thighs darlin’.” His gravelly voice whispered against my ear. If I hadn't been so close to sliding off the saddle I would have batted his hands away. “Move your hips with the horse… It ain’t called ridin’ for nothin’.”

My face blushed at his words, though they really did help. Baylock seemed to relax as I did, our movements becoming one in the same as we calmed to a trot back to camp. I’d half expected Micah to try feeling me up, but the moment I felt in control of the horse his hands disappeared from my hips. It was an unexpectedly respectful gesture coming from the sleazy, rude, flirt of a man I’d quickly come to know him as. 

Our ride back to camp was quiet, no sign of the law. Which was a small blessing given any excitement would have surely resulted in me falling off the horse. I was getting the hang of riding, but that was it. My skill didn’t reach any further than simply staying upright. 

We returned right as Pearson announced dinner, my mouth watered at the word alone. Dismounting, I gave Micah a nod and eagerly started off toward the steaming pot of stew when he called my name. I stopped, turning only slightly to acknowledge him. 

“Would ya- Um…” He rubbed at his neck, the gesture almost… shy. “I could teach you how to ride, sometime. If you’d want.”

I cocked my head at him, considering. I’d never heard him offer to help anyone with, well, anything. “Why?”

“Forget it.” He huffed, turning back to tend to Baylock.

“No.” I said firmly. “Speak your mind, Bell.” He narrowed his eyes at me but sighed, giving in.

“You’re a good gun.” He continued, “A damn good one… But you should know how to ride. If you want to tag along on more jobs, that is.” He rose a brow to me in question, a smile spread on his lips, “As much as I like you all cuddled up to me darlin’, It ain't practical.”

I shrugged, and replied with a simple “Okay.” Though the satisfaction I got from his praise burned through me like fire. I turned back toward camp for dinner, the feeling of Micah’s lingering gaze boring into me the entire way.

If you liked this, check out my other Micah works!

★ My Masterlist ★

[cringefaecompilation]

people are already saying that the vision won't change anyone's mind. i mean, it might change one guy's mind, one in particular who's really been deadset in his ways. won't make him hate the gods, but it'll kick his butt into gear about another problem he's got.

orym and cassida are so alike it hurts. i thought i was helping. i am helping. i want to walk alongside you. why won't you tell me anything? please trust me. i'll do anything you ask me to. all my suffering to get where i am had to have been for a reason. there is hope in everything if you just hold on to it. please don't make me do this. i'll do it if it helps you.

cassida is used time and time again by everyone, by aeor, by the gods, by ludinus all to justify their actions and to assuage their guilt. who remembers her? she was just another nasty hubris wizard, another victim killed by the wicked gods, another casualty of a war that higher powers fought amongst themselves.

orym is much the same. kicked around by the world but always staying on top. he'll do anything anybody asks of him with no care for his own well-being; pragmatic to a fault and goal-oriented as a perfect little soldier. these are not virtues.

when he cannot do something he overexerts himself. he seeks out dangerous pacts with fey hags with his own life as payment. he'll tell everyone else that they are good and kind and more than their powers, but he doesn't believe it himself. and what he gets for this devotion is mission after mission with no rest and the swinging sword over his neck telling him that it will be an eventuality that both his dearest friends will have to die by his hand.

(this isn't keyleth's fault. i'm not trying to take orym's agency from him or blame her influence fully on his suffering.)

if orym keeps pushing himself this hard and keeps justifying his self-harming, it isn't a question of if he will die, but when. ever since he got back from the moon he's been coming closer and closer to realization but hasn't quite reached it. we can only hope he sees himself in someone like her, trying her damnedest to see hope against all odds before it's too late.

[mimastuff]

Can we get headcannons on how the turtle bois will react to finding their S/O died

(Let’s make it more angsty they never got the “I love you” words)

Thank you for this !! Ngl I almost cried while making this lol , anyways enjoy !

The last breath

TW:very angstyyyy , reader dies, swears,tears,stabbing,panic attacks

Contains: Donnie x dead!reader Raphael x dead!reader and Leo x dead!reader.

——————————————————————————-

Donatello 💜

TW: angst, reader dying, swearing, tears , blood

- you two were fighting against the foot clan

- You were doing pretty well to be honest it seemed like the training had payed off

- You were kicking butt !

- Donnie seemed delighted that his partner is learning

- It felt like they were coming from all places at once

- You would turn around and the foot would be there

- it was all too much for you to handle

- After all this was your first mission

- Although Donnie was hesitant about letting you do this with him a hope filled him

- That maybe this was not the last one you guys would be doing together

- Obviously he hoped they you end up beating the foot

- But he couldn’t help admiring his attractive partner fighting with him

- at this point you had gone into another room to kick more foot clan ass

- That’s when he felt it

- The sinking feeling of your panic button going off

- He soon ran to track your location

- He could hear your faint screams for him

- He felt his whole body burn

- Tears threatening to fall

- He found you.

- The mess that was in front of him was unreal

- He froze

- You face covered in bruises

- The way you sprawled out on the floor

- Donnie felt his knees colapse in front of you

- His hands started to shake

- He felt as though he had been stabbed in the heart

- The way you looked could be indescribable

- The look of pure fear plastered on your face

- The way that you were calling out to him to help

- He was too slow

- He killed you.

- Tears poring from his face he called his brother Leo

“This is Leo leave a message …. Beep” his shakes could be heard through walls. “ Leo please pick up. I need you right now” his voice cracked with every word as he sobbed into you. By now he had grabbed you and held your lifeless body. “Please , she’s dead. They - they killed her. It was my f-fault I killed her. I didn’t get there quick enough. God I’m so sorry Y/N. I loved you more than life itself. I loved the way you helped me through all my downs. You were so patient with me. Even when no one was. Not even my own brothers. And now you’re dead. Because I killed you. Because of me I will never be able to hear that sweet I love you any more. *he sobs even heavier*” “beep beep beep” the phone hung up. That was it. All he ever stayed alive for. All he loved was there dead in his arms. How could he had been so stupid ? He shouldn’t have ever let her out on a mission. They were so happy when he asked. The sparkle in their eyes could light up any sky of the darkest nights. It was his fault, it was all his fault. He pressed his panic button and heard his three brothers trail in the abandoned room. The screams of you replayed in his head as his brothers tor Donnie off of your dead body. His screams filled his brothers ears as your filled his own. He loved you more than you will ever know. And know all he had to show for it was your dead fucking body.

Leonardo 💙

TW: angst, during post krang, crying

- He was celebrating saving the world

- He was so happy to finally be with people he cared for

- He realised that his one true love wasn’t here with him

- They had tried to call you before hand but you wouldn’t pick up

- He assumed that you were a bit traumatised by the whole krang incident

- Oh how wrong he was

- he soon realised that you probably were busy and stopped texting you as well

- That was not until he heard the tv playing the news station

- The list of dead peoples names

- Your name.

- He froze and everyone looked shocked

- He saw Your picture flash up on the tv

- He fell to his knees in pain

- The one person he could go to

- Gone.

- Like that

- How could he be so stupid to leave you on your own during New York’s worst villain yet

- The tears pored down his face

- He began to scream and become out of breath

- Your voice ringed in his head

- no. You never said I love you to him since the krang

- he would never hear it again.

The next moments became one big blur. Leo was pretty sure he had passed out. All he felt were big hands carrying him. He assumed it was his big brother taking him to his room. He felt drained. His brothers voices were muffled as they tried to understand what had happened. What had gone wrong? He slowly fell asleep as Raphael tucked him into bed. He drifted off with every thought being you. You were his life. His muse. How will he live without your presence filling his now ever growing whole in his heart. The weeks after your passing got worse. His brothers would hardly see his brother. One week he would sleep too much. The next week no sleep at all. His brothers frequently heard a series of nightmares throughout the nights. He was lost.

Raphael ❤️

TW:angst,tears,mention of panic attacks, stabbing

- he fell to his knees

- He held you close as your lifeless body moved with his violent sobs

- Your dead body

- You. His only love.

- You were just walking on a date and he felt you cling onto him

- The sound of stabbing rung in his ears as you collapsed next to him

- Blood spewing from your back

- The guy who did it ran away before any one could chase him

- His hands were blood stained and face tear full

- His eyes were red from crying and his heart hurt

- Like it physically hurt

- He felt as though you were a rag doll with how limp you were

- As you died in his arms all you could hear was his loud sobs and tight hold

- His shaking body ached for life from you boy no luck

- His screams of pain and sadness blurred into one as his brothers soon pulled him off of you

The next few weeks were horrible. He wanted to hold you , tell you be was sorry for not helping. You were his rock. You were his only source of comfort. The person he loved ever so much was now out of his life forever. All he dreamed of was your death. The touch of any of your clothes sent him into a panic attack as the memories of you and him came flooding back. He couldn’t bring himself to go around your apartment and pick out your stuff. He couldn’t do it. The smell of you lingered in his room and it pained him. He loved you more than you could ever know. The way you played with his bandana. The way that you held him even though he was too fearful of his spikes hurting you. You in fact could not care less about his spikes. You just wanted to show your love to him. He wanted to show you that too. And how he wished he would have done it more often. He knew he would never be the same with out you. He soon realised he would never hear your sweet voice again. The sound of your I love you’s became a blur. Wait. You never said that you loved him that same day. He would never get to hear that again. He broke down again. How could he ever live the same again?

——————————————————————————

I’m not crying , you are 😖😭

Also I didn’t do mikey as i have already done him many times ! I felt he probably needs a break lol

I hope you enjoyed this :D

Have a lovely day or night ❤️❤️

[sgt-seabass]

Hey Ambs!

Drabble request!

Being Dark Daddy Lloyd’s good little puppy…

𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆

✧˚ · . 𝘓𝘭𝘰𝘺𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘺.

pairing — lloyd hansen x puppy!reader w/c — 1.9k (i thought this would be under 1k. i was wrong) this is a dark fic. 18+ only. warnings — puppy!reader, dark mean lloyd (but that's canon so lol), implied smut, butt plug tail, puppy ears, collar, lead, referenced kidnapping, referenced stokholm syndrome, pet play, referenced punishment, violence and murder (not towards lloyd or reader), kinda victim blaming if you squint but it's just lloyd being a dick on purpose cause he wants a reason to punish his pet. a/n — you know me too well lmao. okay this was seriously meant to be a drabble but now it's almost 2k whoops. i guess pet play just does that too me. i hope you enjoy and i did lloyd justice! not beta read, all mistakes and shit are mine.

Sometimes life kicks you while you’re down.

Or sometimes, you just get kidnapped by Lloyd Hansen for the world’s biggest fuck you.

The various televisions on the mansion wall do little to interest you. It’s just another operation, one of many that Lloyd runs from his secluded safehouse. It wasn’t home. Nothing was cosy about the intricate and obnoxious crown moulding or various paintings scattered about.

It was all a façade, much like Lloyd himself.

He put on the act that he was better than everyone else, that his skills and intelligence made him superior, but that was all bullshit.

At the end of the day, he was just as desperate for love and attention as much as the next person.

Lloyd had taken you the same day he’d sighted you working at your aunt’s café. You weren’t sure what he saw in you, but it was clear he had some interest by the way he fucked you in the car before you even got back to his safehouse.

He was ravenous. If he didn’t have his job, you had no doubt he’d spend every minute of the day fucking you over every surface.

Giving up your life was hard. Becoming Lloyd’s puppy was harder.

He didn’t want a partner; he wanted a pet. A doting little thing to follow him around. And while that wasn’t you at first, the punishments Lloyd would hand out made sure you became it quickly.

At this stage, Lloyd’s contractors had seen you humiliated, suspended naked or spanked raw. Lloyd loved to string you up and leave you to be a nice addition to the paintings in the room.

But what he loved most was you sitting at his feet. Being on your knees so much had hurt at first, but you’d grown used to it.

So, that’s where you sat. By Lloyd’s chair while he stood with a glass of scotch, intently watching the screens and yelling out orders to the various agents for hire in the room. You didn’t know who they were hunting, and you didn’t care. It was the least of your problems.

Your eyes fluttered tiredly, fatigue causing your lids to feel heavy. Lloyd had fucked your ass the night before, leaving you with a lack of sleep. No position was comfortable with the biting, stinging sensation left behind by him. In your kneeling position, you could still feel the slow seep of his cum from your tight hole.

It leaked around the tail butt plug Lloyd had put in this morning. The grey fur of the puppy tail matched your ears that were secured with a headband. Around your neck was a matching grey collar with little black crystal embellishments.

Lloyd never was one for colour. He dressed you in cute attire, but always with a muted colour palette. As if you were his gothic puppy.

You covered your mouth as you yawned, your tummy grumbling. You sighed, glancing around the room. There were snacks on the back table, but you couldn’t get to them. Lloyd had tied your lead to his chair, so you couldn’t get far.

Not that you could run anyway. Having to crawl everywhere had caused the muscles in your legs to become so weak you doubted you could stand for very long.

Plus, there was a part of you that liked this life.

It was a simple existence. Please Lloyd. Please daddy. That’s all you had to worry about.

You looked behind you and through the large window panes. It was cloudy outside, with dark clouds threatening to rain on the mansion grounds. You could smell the moisture in the air, a damp smell that brought you ease.

The world was full of darkness. People worked until they died, searching for some sense of accomplishment they’d never find. Unless you were privileged, money would be an endless struggle, and you’d likely never truly be happy.

But here, there was none of that. You were treated like a cherished pet, as Lloyd loved you in his own way. Anything you wanted, he would give you, in return for your undying loyalty.

It was admittedly nice.

Lloyd fucked you better than you could have ever deemed possible, bringing endless pleasure. He wasn’t a selfish lover. He had a sense of pride in making his puppy fall apart.

You smiled to yourself. Stockholm Syndrome or not, was it so bad if you felt happy?

Another garbled sound came from your stomach, and you sighed.

You should have eaten more for breakfast, but you were distracted by the soreness in your ass. But now you were regretting it.

A soft whine left you at the sight of the plated fruit behind you. Lloyd was fully engrossed in the screens, not even turning back to look at you. You crawled on all fours towards the platter, tail swishing behind you, only getting about halfway when your lead went taut.

It wasn’t long enough by a long shot. You looked back to Lloyd, who seemed royally pissed off about something going wrong. Yeah, not the appropriate time to ask for food. He’d probably spank your ass raw for stress relief, and you were in enough discomfort as it is.

One of Lloyd’s hired men, Brayden, walked past you to the table, and you turned to return to your spot by Lloyd’s seat. A tug on your lead caught your attention, and you looked back to see Brayden squatting at your level. You looked at him like he’d gone insane because he surely had. Lloyd would kill him for interacting with you. He didn’t take well to anyone else playing with his things. The last time someone talked to you, they lost an eye.

You looked from where Brayden held your lead, to the piece of pear in his hand, to his smiling face. Your mouth dropped open in shock. No, bad idea. Really, really bad idea.

He held out the piece of fruit, and you looked at it like it was a bomb. Because it was just as dangerous. You shook your head, unable to speak in case it caught Lloyd’s attention.

“C’mon, you’re hungry,” Brayden whispered before he moved forward, putting the piece of pear into your mouth as he held your lead so you had no escape.

He may have pitied you, but he was just as bad as Lloyd. He put you in a position you didn’t want to be in.

The sweet twang of the pear set your senses alight, and you closed your mouth to hide the food before scurrying back to Lloyd’s chair.

You did your best to chew quietly, but then Brayden signed his death warrant.

He patted your head as he passed you back to his seat, the ruffling sound of your headband causing enough sound to catch Lloyd’s attention.

“Did you just fucking touch her?” Lloyd’s voice suddenly boomed, and you squeaked and flinched from how it reverberated throughout the room. “Did you just touch my fucking pet?”

Brayden froze, trying to play it cool with a shrug. “She was trying to get some fruit, but she couldn’t reach, so I gave it to her.”

Lloyd was fuming before, but now he was irate. His pupils dilated as he took it all in, nostrils flaring. “You fucking touched my puppy. And fed her? What, you think I can’t take care of her? Think you can do a better job than me, huh?”

You wanted to hide away, so you did. You curled yourself around the back of his chair, watching as Lloyd stormed over to Brayden.

The whole room had become motionless, the clack of fingers against keyboards stopping as Lloyd towered over the smaller brunette.

“Look, she was hungry. I didn’t mean anything by it, just wanted to—”

Anything more Brayden wanted to say was cut off by the crack of Lloyd’s fist against his cheek. You gasped at the sight of Brayden’s broken nose, blood pouring to the floor. “How fucking dare you touch her!”

There was another punch. And another… And another. You were forced to watch the morbid show as Lloyd went feral, gripping the man by the collar and letting his fist go wild. Brayden never had a chance to even fight back.

The taste of the pear had turned sour, and you spat out the remnants onto the floor. You wanted nothing to do with this.

“She’s mine, do you hear me? Nobody but me touches her.” Lloyd’s point seemed to fall on deaf ears as Brayden’s head lolled to the side, only held up by Lloyd’s fingers in his shirt.

Brayden’s body hit the floor with a crunch when Lloyd let him go, a soft groan coming from the male. You felt a little bad for him. But he played with fire and got burnt.

If you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.

And Brayden’s stupid prize for touching you was a bullet to the head.

You covered your ears when you saw Lloyd pull out his handgun and closed your eyes when the first shot rang out. It wasn’t until four shots later that Lloyd had stopped, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at the gore.

There was a beat of silence before you felt hands clasp over yours, gently pulling your palms away from your ears. “Sorry puppy, didn’t mean to scare you,” Lloyd’s voice called to you, much softer now. “Did he hurt you?”

Your eyes opened and met the deep blues of your captor. There was a lot of anger blazing in his orbs, but also concern. You shook your head, your voice failing you.

“Good. I would have killed him a second time if he did,” Lloyd gave a grin, and you forced a small smile, trying to appease him. Lloyd seemed relieved you weren’t harmed, but now he knew you were okay, his voice turned a baritone deeper. He loved looking for a way to punish you. “But he did touch you.”

This time you nodded. “On… On my head…” You mumbled, feeling small and feeble in front of Lloyd. Blood splattered his polo shirt and slacks, the metallic smell filling your nose.

“And you let him.” Lloyd’s eyes darkened a fraction. It wasn’t just Brayden he was mad with.

“I’m— I’m sorry…” You blurted out, clinging to the chair.

“You should have asked me if you were hungry. Now you’re dirty. Like a used slut.”

“You were busy and mad, and I didn’t want to interrupt your work and—” Lloyd cut off your rambling with a finger to your lips before he picked you up, so you were straddling his waist.

“Silly puppy. Couldn’t wait for food, so you whored yourself to get it from my workers, huh?” Lloyd sniped, and your blood ran cold. He carried you past Brayden’s dead, desecrated body and towards the master ensuite as you began to shake in his grip.

“We’ll get you washed of him, and then I think my pet needs a little attitude adjustment. You’ll think twice about letting someone else near you after I’ve tried out my new paddle, won’t you, sunshine?”

Lloyd had showed you the paddle when it arrived in the mail. Black leather with a cut out at the end in the shape of a puppy paw so it would leave an imprint on your body. Tears quickly bubbled in your vision, the fear taking over. Lloyd always rewarded you with pleasure after the pain, but you still had to get through the demoralising punishment first. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“I don’t want excuses, puppy.” Lloyd placed you on the bathroom counter, fingers wrapping around your throat and bringing your face close to his. “You think that little ass is sore now? You just wait until I’m done with you. Maybe I’ll fuck that puppy cunt, so your holes match, both red raw and stretched from my cock.”

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

[canirove]

Broken Hearts Football Club | Chapter 29

Author's note: And we've made it to the last chapter! 😞 Thank you very much to everyone who has read this story and for all the likes, reblogs and comments. They mean a lot! 💜 Especially since this story and June and Ben as a couple have become one of my favourites. Hope you like this chapter, and again, thank you very much for the support! 🫶🏻

Update: Don't forget to check the bonus chapters! 👀👇🏻

Previous chapter | Bonus chapter 1

Masterlist

"I can't believe we've made it to the final. I still have to pinch myself!"

"Like this?" Ben said, squeezing June's butt cheek.

"Chilwell!" she laughed.

"You said you had been pinching yourself."

"It was in a manner of speaking, you idiot" she replied, twisting his nipple.

"Hey!" he complained. "Though that was welcomed."

"Does it turn you on when I pinch your nipple?" June smirked, moving to look him in the eyes.

"No. I mean, a bit… But no. That isn't what I meant."

"Then?" 

"I have to pinch myself too because I can't believe this is real. Us being together" he said, caressing her cheek. "I still feel like any moment now I'm gonna wake up at the hospital after a crisis and that all this has been a dream. The best of my life, but just a dream."

"It isn't a dream, Chilwell. It is very real. This" she said, kissing his nose "is very real. And so is this" she continued, kissing both his cheeks. "And this" she whispered before leaving a soft kiss on his lips. "But if all that still feels like something from a dream, feel this" she said, taking his hand and putting it on her chest. "Feel the way my heart is beating. I had forgotten it was possible for it to go this fast for someone. Because of someone. I thought that after being broken in a million pieces, it would not be able to go back to what it used to be, that it could not be fixed, healed. Able to love again. And then you came into my life with your stupid facts and…"

"I love you, June" Ben interrupted her. 

"I hadn't finished my speech, Chilwell" she replied, rolling her eyes. "But I lo…" 

"Chilly, are you there?" Andrew said, knocking on his room's door.

"You've got to be kidding me" June groaned, resting her forehead on Ben's chest.

"Quite busy right now!" he replied, raising  his voice so Andrew could hear him.

"Well, wrap it up! We have some last minute things to film."

"Now?"

"Yes, now. See you downstairs in five" Andrew said before leaving.

"Duty calls."

"Duty can go to hell" June said while hugging him as tight as she could.

"Just three more days, June. Three days and we will be lying in the sun on a tropical island, just the two of us, celebrating that you are a World Cup winner."

"That does sound like a dream" she chuckled. "But if we win, it won't be three days. Because we will have to fly back, then we will have all the celebrations, the official visits…"

"Ok, fine. A week. A week and we will be together without no one bothering us."

"That's more like it" she smiled. "Now go shower before Andrew comes back and kicks the door down. I should probably get going too, I want to do some yoga before dinner."

"Wasn't everything we've done enough for today's workout?" Ben smirked.

"For my cardio, yes. But I want to stretch and keep my flexibility."

"I like your flexibility."

"I know" June replied, matching his smile. "Now go."

"Yes, ma'am" he said, kissing her nose and making her giggle before leaving the bed. 

The moment he walked into the bathroom and she was alone, June had to pinch herself. And this time it wasn't in a manner of speaking. Because this was real. Everything she felt for Ben, everything that was going on with her career after her injury, all this happiness… It was all real. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"June, before you leave us, I just want to say thank you. Thank you for taking this trophy home, for the tournament every single one of you have given us, for how you've fought and made us enjoy watching football, but most importantly… Thank you for your hard work these past months. I know how tough it has been, that you've worked your ass off literally and figuratively to be here today. And it's all been because how much you love this sport and everyone involved. So thank you, June. Thank you."

"Aww, Andrew. Come here" she said, hugging him. "You've made me cry on live tv."

"Sorry" he chuckled. "But I've meant every word."

"I know" June smiled.

"Now whatever Chilly and I say is gonna sound stupid or worthless" Jacob laughed.

"It will" Ben chuckled, his eyes fixed on June. He was trying really hard to stay composed and not show his emotions too much. Again. 

When she had scored he had gone crazy, screaming and clapping until his hands hurt. Andrew and Jacob had gone as mad as he had, which thankfully had made his reaction less odd. But standing there in front of a camera, and once everyone had calmed down a bit and it was just happy faces everywhere you looked, he couldn't let his feelings take over him. He couldn't just kiss June and tell her how proud he was of her and of everything she had achieved even if the whole country knew that they were together. At least not yet. 

"Well, in that case, I think it's time we let June be free so she can keep celebrating with the girls" Andrew laughed.  

"There is something I must do before I go, tho" she said. 

"Oh, ok."

"Can you please hold this for us?" she asked Andrew, giving him her microphone and Ben's.

"Sure" he replied, not sure about what was going on.

"June…" Ben said. She was going to do something crazy. He could see it in her eyes, on the way she was looking at him.

"I love you too" she smiled before throwing herself at him, making him lose his balance a bit when she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. 

She had done it. She had finally told Ben that she loved him, and she had done it in front of the whole world to see, no one interrupting her this time. 

She was sure their kiss would be all over the internet in just a few minutes, that people who had never heard their names before would get to see it too. But she didn't care. Nothing else mattered. It was her and Ben, her lips on his. 

"Ok… That was unexpected" Jacob said while June and Ben kept kissing.

"Was it?" Andrew chuckled, more cameras and people with phones starting to surround them, all of them wanting to immortalise the moment.

"You are fucking crazy, Maxwell" Ben laughed when they managed to stop kissing.

"It's your lips, Chilwell. They were made to be kissed I can't help myself."

"And what you said before kissing me?"

"What about it?"

"Did you mean it?"

"With every fiber in my body. I love you, Ben Chilwell."

"I love you too, June Maxwell" he smiled before kissing her again, more and more people surrounding them while Andrew and Jacob tried to protect them, to give them some privacy. 

After so many years of being heartbroken, of thinking she would never be able to love again, June had found herself falling head over heels for someone with also a broken heart. Ben's was physically and hers was emotionally, but they had somehow healed the other. 

It hadn't been easy, definitely a bumpy ride. But neither of them would change it for anything in the world. 

━━━━❃━━━━ FIN ━━━━❃━━━━

[mybelovedwoo]

in which wooyoung gets angry but you are the most important

wooyoung x f!reader

angst, established relationship / wc: 1k

warnings: inappropriate behavior towards women, swearing, a really angry woo, mention of food, crying

note: this is just a shorter one, i hope you like it though.

wooyoung masterlist - main masterlist

"Wooyoung-ah, please slow down, I'm not gonna run!" You shout after your boyfriend, who is pulling you by your hand to the cash register. This started out just as a casual movie date at the cinema, yeah, but not with your boyfriend. As soon as he saw that there was no line to buy the tickets, and a group of young boys was heading towards there, he suddenly started to rush there, but he didn't leave you behind, no, he didn't even let go.

"Jagi, we must hurry if we want the best seats." He was very desperate, you couldn't stop him even if you'd try. 

Thanks to the literal running you got there first, but you felt a bit awkward because everyone weirdly looked at you, they didn't understand why you ran. "Hi, I want two tickets to the Guardians of the Galaxy please." Wooyoung smoothly asked for the tickets. But in the meantime, that group of boys also got there and lined up behind you. You stood back while Wooyoung paid, and they stood a little closer to you than you liked, you felt very uncomfortable. Especially when one of their hand brushed your butt. 

You immediately snuggled up to your boyfriend and held his hands, Wooyoung didn't know what happened, he thought you were just in a cuddly mood. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, you hoped that by now they have noticed that you are already taken.

As soon as Wooyoung got the tickets, you went to buy some snacks. "Hello, can I get a big popcorn and a cola, please? What would you like, my love?" He turned to you. "I don't know, get me whatever." He found your attitude a little strange, you were in a good mood a few minutes ago, and he could only think that you were angry with him for some reason. He desperately wanted to cheer you up, because he thought he was the one who made you sad, but he didn't know that your mood was already ruined for the night, even though you were so excited about this date with him.

The poor cashier didn't know what to do since you still didn't say anything. " A medium popcorn and a water for my girlfriend please." He knew what you always got by heart by now, but it still made him upset how you acted. 

After you got your snacks, you walked to one of the couches out there, because you still got like 20 minutes before the movie starts. It was so quiet, it killed Wooyoung inside, he wanted to talk so badly, but didn't know what was right to say. It was the quietest 20 minutes of his life.

At the time it was finally time to sit inside, you let your boyfriend go ahead since he knew which seats he had chosen earlier. When you got to your chairs, you thought you were about to jump out of your skin. How can you be so lucky to be sitting right in front of that group of boys?

 The movie eventually started, but you were already waiting to go home. You were fidgeting with your hands for the last couple of minutes, and Wooyoung had noticed it. He didn't know what was wrong with you, but he knows you well enough to know that you were very anxious. So to calm you down he placed his hands on yours. You looked at him with confusion, but only he smiled at you and went back to watch the movie.

We're about halfway through the movie when you feel a kick on the back of your chair. At first, you thought it was just an accident, but when it happened for the nth time, you couldn't bare it anymore. "I'm going to the bathroom." You said to your boyfriend. With that you stood up and stormed out of the room, not even waiting for an answer.

You could barely hold back the tears in the hallway, but you didn't let the tears fall out until you closed the door behind you. You supported yourself on the sink and finally let all your feelings out. You jumped back when the door suddenly flew open. "What's wrong my love? Why are you crying? Are you upset with me? Did I do something wrong? I swear I didn't flirt with that cashier, I was just trying to be nice." Your heart broke thinking about how you made him worry about this nonsense, and how you ruined your date.

"No, it's not like that. I just don't feel completely comfortable." You admitted, to be honest, you don't really know how to explain the reason for that. But you already know what is the next question.

"And why is that?" He was so worried about you.

"I don't know how to tell you this, because I don't want you to freak out. But when you bought the tickets those boys lined up behind us, do you remember?" He nodded, he didn't know what happened yet, but he was already getting angry, he had to squeeze his fist.

"So they were quite close to me, and I already didn't like that, so I tried to move a little further away from them, but one of them touched my butt. I think it was by accident, but it still made me uncomfortable." Oh boy, Wooyoung couldn't hold back his anger anymore, if it weren't you with him at this moment, then he would be completely gone.

"It was no accident. I saw them checking you out, even then I wanted to beat the shit out of them. But now..." Yes, that's why you didn't want to tell him in the first place. Wooyoung gets angry pretty easily, even though he's never hurt anyone, he can't think clearly at times like this, especially when it comes to you. 

"Can we just go home? I want cuddles and kisses all night long." No matter how much he wanted to do something about it, you are always his first priority, and if he went back there it would be selfish of him.

"It sounds perfect. Let's go." He grabbed your hands and didn't let go of it until you arrived at home. 

taglist* @laylasbunbunny @yeow6n (you can message me if you want to be added or removed)

[mochiwrites]

hello hello, mochi!

god its been forever since i plagued your inbox with my chattering, but i hope you wouldn't mind a question?

you see, im hoping to start my first Big Fanfic Project with a properly fleshed out AU and all that, but i find myself getting super overwhelmed by the Amount of Stuff im thinking that i want to fit in! I want to have a general outline (maybe with acts, like you do!), but i also have no idea how to go about doing That D:

do you have any tips for organizing your storyline/plots? for pacing? or maybe some sneak peeks into how you do it? i only ask because the night life au is literally like a proper book series and im in Awe at how you keep track of everything and execute it so well!

no pressure to answer, of course! you could just totally ignore this if you wanted lolol

hihi!! I don't mind at all!! :D I'm sorry I couldn't get to this sooner <///3 (school has been kicking my butt </3)

so the first thing I'd probably suggest is writing everything down. it doesn't matter if it's a word, a single sentence, a whole paragraph. if you have ideas, get them down on paper--whether that be a physical piece of paper, a document, or a note in your phone, even if the ideas are something that happens a long time down the road of the story

the way that I'd go about doing an outline is taking it one chunk at a time, especially if you break up into acts. you've already got your ideas that you want to fit in written down, now the next step is figuring out the order or where everything goes. you don't necessarily have to know what goes into what arc or act, but as long as you have a general idea of the order of events that take place, it makes planning a lot easier

it's also really good to have a goal for each arc, I'll use night life as an example for that :D

arc one of night life is my introductory arc. I'm introducing the reader to this mythical world that exists alongside humanity, so I need to introduce the basic concepts (i.e. what kind of creatures exist, how magic works, what their way of life looks like). you don't need to introduce every concept at once, or go out of your way to tell the reader everything immediately. just slowly introduce what you think is relevant or important for the reader to know early on

arc two I have a focus on scar's character and building his relationship with grian and mumbo, while working up to his big betrayal at the end. aaaand of course arc three I'm focusing on the murders once more, while fixing up mumscarian's relationship again JFDHGJHGF

I've mentioned it before, but a really helpful tool for organizing notes is a program called obsidian :D it's free to use, and it's kept me. so organized with night life LMAO. for example, regarding arc one, my notes ended up looking like this:

the important thing with big, fleshed out aus, is breaking them into smaller chunks and doing things one at a time. I've got a lot that goes down in arc 3, but it's easier to look at the next three fics rather than the next seven, y'know? if you take it into smaller pieces, it's a lot less overwhelming than looking at the whole thing

as for pacing.... it's a little tricky, because everyone feels pacing a different way. for myself, I try to think about my plot beats as if the story was an episodic tv series. if I can make my pacing align with the pacing of a show, it's normally pretty good for me. but that might not work for everyone fjghfjhgfj the best piece of advice I can give for pacing is: write it out, and see how it feels while you're writing. that's kind of the only way you'll know if your pacing feels weird

it's one of those difficult ones because you can get a pretty vague idea of what the pacing looks like, but you won't know 100% until you're in the middle of writing

it's totally okay to not have everything figured out at once, or to have some missing details. you can fill those in later (and sometimes they naturally fill themselves in as you're writing!)

also !!!! because I'm a very big believer of this, and have done this multiple times with night life: if you've got a multichapter fic that has some chapters posted, and the story isn't feeling right to you anymore, or you don't like the direction it's going? it's okay to delete it and try again

I think a lot of people have this general belief in fandom that once you post a fic that's the only shot you get at it, but that's not true !! if you're two chapters into a five chapter fic, and you're writing chapter three and you realize the idea needs to be looked at again, or changed entirely, do it. that's okay. especially when working on a big, long running project like that

which leads me to, your outline is not a contract !!! the story will grow and change organically as you write more of it, and that’s alright! use the outline as a guide, not a permanent fixture. you can change your outline up as you go along :D

if you have any more questions, please feel free to ask !!! I’m more than happy to help and break down my process—especially if there’s any specific part of it that you want to ask about :D

[fanfictionroxs]

My little thoughts and feelings about each character in Only Friends (post ep7):

Boston - Love him. This guy is single handedly responsible for the drama and glee and joy I get from this show. Of course there are other factors, but ugh Boston what a great guy! Hope he records more of his friends kissing and causes havok and gets more beatings by Mew in swimming pools. Hilarious!

Nick - Pathetic little menace lol. He has a cute vulnerable face that is so damn adorable that I get even Boston falling for it. Complete traitor though. Responsible for all the problems in his love life though he likes to pretend otherwise. I hope Sand fucks him and calms him down. Boston couldn't do it.. maybe Sand can.

Top - Mr. Top tier playboy, whose fame I don't buy because if you don't care for your partner's pleasure, who the FUCK would recommend you LMAO! Anyway, he is actually a fucking romantic at heart with top tier date ideas. This man just needs someone to househusband him and fuck him nice and proper and Mew is just the person for it. But since Mr. Idiot fucked up things big time, who knows if they will even end up together?

Ray - Thailand's gay Devdas. If you don't know who that is, shame on you! Anyway, I have feelings of extreme fury towards him while also wanting to yeet him into rehab asap because this child is not crossing 25 otherwise. Needs to get his behaviour in fucking order and needs to treat Sand better or else I'm jumping in that show to beat him up like Mew jumped in the pool to beat Boston. Also, he's super hot and I totally get Sand, but I would still kick his ass to the curb. But I kind of want to cry at his beauty, bl drama gods have mercy!

Mew - MY SON! I have adored him in his calm era and I adore him in his raging era. Such a self-aware king. Vengeful as FUCK! Calm like the ocean, but if you piss him off.. well be ready for a fucking tsunami. I hope by the end of the show, he is able to find a balance between both sides of his because there is as much strength in being kind as there is in being cunning and sharp. And together, these traits make for a lethal combo! I'm fine whether he takes back Top or not. I just want him happy by the end with that honor student batch and sipping some nice mock-tails with his moms.

Sand - MY SON! Will definitely become Thailand's pansexual/bisexual Taylor Swift with the amount of banger songs he is going to make after all this drama. A self-aware king much like Mew, though I think he has more issues poor boy. I wish he loves himself more and dumps Ray's ass lol (I say that while my RaySand heart cries like a little bitch). Anyway, he is single-handedly responsible for feeding my angsty fanfiction heart. Heartbreak makes him look SO pretty, no wonder Ray keeps doing that to him (I'm a horrible person dont kill me please!). BUTT! I want a happy ending for him whether it's with Ray or not. Also, I need someone to attic husband him (hint hint RAY nudge nudge though in my fanfic Top does it hehe) and take care of him because this man cares for everyone, BUT NO ONE DOES IT FOR HIM! WHERE'S THE LOVING FOR MY LOVEY DOVEY BABY?!

Well that's all folks! Can't wait for ep8 to cry some more!