#i swear itll get good trust

[hughjackmansbicep]

Delicate

a/n: hi friends!!!! im hoping to make this into a multi part series, got lots planned for this mini fic :))))) this is kind of the prolouge to the real deal, needed to get the setup for it started before we divulge. expect lots of twists n turns my friends!

Pairing: Logan Howlett X F!Mutant!Reader

Warnings: uhhhhh none lol

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: The government has successfully began the eradication of all mutant species in the United States. Lucky for you your dad has taken careful precautions to protect you from the evil that lurks in the streets outside. Tucked away in a concealed basement you sat and rotted away clinging to your old life and dreams. What happens when one day you've got a severe hankering for some ice cream and he ran out of beer the same night? Both finding yourselves in the right place at the right time.

The world as you knew it was slowly coming to an end. Mutants everywhere were dropping like flies after the government slowly started poisoning everyone's food. Unless you were an off-grid loner living off the land, you succumbed to the same fate as everyone else, 6 feet under. Lucky enough for you, your father kept you pretty sheltered. Tucked away in your fully renovated basement, the world is ignorant of your existence. It was safer this way; I mean, sure, you missed going out to bars and seeing your friends; hell, you even missed those 8 a.m. bio classes you used to take. But this was safer; at least that's what your father always preached. “It’s safer down here, away from all those evil people.” He'd remind you every day, “You're to never leave my site, kiddo, and never step outside those doors.” Not like you could anyways, while your mutation allowed you to control the atoms around you and morph them into anything your heart desired, you had one weakness, adamantium. Your house was coated in it; every doorknob, lock, and even the goddamn windows were coated in the shit. 

It was 3:00am, no one was home, and you found yourself craving ice cream. It wasn't uncommon for your dad to leave you to your own vices. He still had a job he'd have to attend to, and that more often than not led you to solidarity on his trips. And here you were in the middle of the night, the light from the fridge illuminating the dimly lit kitchen, tearing your freezer apart hoping to magically find a pint of Ben and Jerry’s buried deep in the frost. You groan, sinking down to your knees, met with disappointment and an ever-growing craving for the sweet, delicious taste of The Tonight Dough. Sure, you could've totally put in an Uber Eats order, but where would the fun in that be? You stood in front of the adamantium-cladded door, using all your strength to melt it to the ground, but to no avail. The only thing between you and your Jimmy Fallon-adorned ice cream was some space metal, and to hell if your dad really thinks that's going to curve the urge.

For the next hour, you ran around the house like a lunatic looking for a weak point. Maybe your father missed just one spot—one tiny spot in this prison he calls a home. A small hole fit for the size of a mouse teased you. Sure, you control all the atoms around you but your own? You'd never even attempted to entertain that idea, although the worst that could happen is you turn your body into a permanent pile of slop. That didn't sound too terrible when compared to being a basement dweller for the last 7 years. And it turns out it wasn't as bad as you'd thought; you melted your body down into a pile of liquid, slithering your way through the walls of your house before you were spit out from a hole in the bricks. The air on your skin cascaded goosebumps along your body; you honestly couldn't remember the last time you felt wind grace your skin or the sun illuminating off your shoulders. 

You skipped happily toward the corner store, taking in every sound around you. The sound your feet made when they hit the pavement, the distant chatter of the locals crowding down the sidewalks, even the obnoxious sound of a car horn brought a smile to your face. You finally understood the saying, ‘the city that never sleeps.’ You reached the corner store, swinging the door open and prancing inside as if it were Disney World. Your happy fantasy faded as the man behind the register yelled at you to put some shoes on before walking into his store. You looked down, wiggling your free toes, with all the excitement of liquifying yourself to get a taste of the outside world, common societal rules had slipped your mind. “I um.. Just came to grab a pint of ice cream; I’ll be really quick, I promise.” You pleaded sheepishly, offering him a quick smile to butter him up a bit. He simply rolled his eyes in disgust and turned his back to you, mumbling something under his breath.

You made your way around the convenience store towards the dairy section when something, or rather someone, caught your attention. He looked tall, and even with a leather jacket on, you could tell he was huge. He had some silly-looking facial hair and even sillier-looking cat-ear-like hair, but man, he still looked good. Your eyes slowly traveled down his arms to his pants. Cute butt, you thought to yourself. He stifled a laugh before turning in your direction and saying, “Thank you.” He grumbled, turning back towards the beer cooler. “What?” You ask, heat rising to your cheeks once you realize you'd accidentally said that out loud. He didn't acknowledge you, just went back to scanning the cooler. You took that as a hint to keep moving, finally landing in front of the ice cream section and grabbing the last pint of your favorite ice cream. Carefully looking around to make sure nobody was watching you, you pulled the lid off and used your mutation to pull out all the atoms belonging to the anti-mutant poisons that were mixed in with the delicious sweet treat. Floating above the ice cream, you cautiously manipulated them into a different container of food and made your way back towards the front. What you didn't know was that the unfortunate corner store owner had been watching your freak act on the CCTV cameras the whole time.

Turning around one of the aisles, you had spotted two men in suits talking to the man upfront. You couldn't make out what was being said as they whispered, but watching him point to you using your mutation on the TV screen explained enough to you. You backed up slowly, trying to even your breaths out before you had a panic attack. You felt someone grab your shoulder, spinning you around into them. It was Mr. Cute Butt; he must be working with those suited men too. Your eyes go wide as you focus all your energy on him. You were attempting to melt him, freeing yourself from his grasp, but it wasn't working for some reason. He just stared at your brows laced together, trying to figure out what in the fuck were you doing. “You're going to shit yourself if you keep straining like that.” He whispered a low chuckle, following after.

You froze, looking up at the man with pleading eyes. “Please don't hurt me; I just wanted some ice cream. Please i'll leave right now, sir.” You rushed out searching his face for sympathy or remorse something in hopes he'd release his grasp on you. He looked confused at what you were saying to him as if you were speaking some foreign language, but that didn't last long once you two heard footsteps approaching you. “C’mon kid.” He grumbled out, dragging you by your arm, ducking in between the small isles towards the exit. “They're over here!” The man upfront yelled, and the mystery man beside you just groaned before scooping you up into his arms and rushing you out of the store. You both quickly fell into the crowd, blending into the sea of people that populated the streets of New York. As soon as you two were outside, he'd set you on your feet, his arm still gripping your wrist, dragging you through the city with him.

“I need to go home, sir; please don't hurt me. I'm so sorry.” You cried, tears adorning your cheeks as you pleaded with him; if your father knew what was transpiring at this very moment, you'd be toast. Absolutely never allowed outside your basement ever again; you could kiss the sun goodbye because you'll probably never see it again once he gets home. He ignored your pleas though as he pushed through the crowds to a parked motorcycle on the road. “Oh no, I am not getting on that thing.” You halted your movements, digging your heels into the ground. “Suit yourself, sweet cheeks.” He laughed at you dryly hopping onto the bike, “They'll find you eventually.” He kicked the stand up, revving the bike on. You looked through the crowd behind you, worry etching onto your face. Maybe he's right; maybe I should hop on that bike and ride it into the sunset with this beautiful specimen, or he's no better than those suited men and could ultimately be leading me to my death. “Just get on the fucking bike.” He growled at the sound of sirens roaring closer to you two.

Begrudgingly, you hopped onto the back of the bike, plopping the helmet latched behind you on your head. At this rate, your sure your dad is going to skin you alive and hang you up to dry. “Hang on tight, princess.” He turned around to smirk at you. You snaked your hands around his torso, and he took off, the force causing your face to smash into his back and your grip on him tightening. You were sure if you had been gifted some form of super strength, you would've popped his torso clean off his legs with how tight you were squeezing him. You attempted to give him directions back to your house, but he couldn't hear you and kept heading in the opposite direction. He totally could hear you too, but he was ignoring your requests to return you home.

The quick 15-minute drive felt like an eternity with how utterly petrified you were. Matter of fact, you were so scared, eyes clenched shut, arms squeezing all the oxygen out of his lungs, you hadn't even noticed that you'd arrived at your mystery destination. He pried your arms off him, causing you to open your eyes; you were in complete shock. A gorgeous castle-like building stood before you, surrounded by trees, and a long gravel driveway trailed in front of it. A voice broke you from your thoughts, but this sound didn't come from the man sitting in front of you; no, it appeared like it came straight from inside your head. 'Logan, would you please introduce me to your new friend? The voice sang through you, your head whipping around frantically to find the owner of these words. “C’mon, I got someone for you to meet.” The man in front of you finally spoke, helping you off the bike and placing the helmet back in its spot on the rear. He guided you through the mansion all the way to the back, stopping at two huge double wooden doors.

“Come in, please.” Rang the same voice you heard earlier, the double doors slowly opening before you to reveal a small, bald man sitting in a chair. “And who might this be, Logan?” He questioned, looking towards the big man next to you. Logan, huh, you thought to yourself, cute name and a cute butt. Logan awkwardly shifted beside you, the bald man sending a booming laugh throughout the room. “Oh my God.. Did I say that out loud?” You whispered heat rising to your cheeks once again. Ignoring you, Logan started explaining to the bald guy, whose name you quickly learned was Charles, what happened earlier. Logan had seen what you were doing in that small store—how you made some substance float out of the ice cream and back into another pint. He assumed you were attempting to do something similar to that when he had grabbed you, and you began shaking like a Chihuahua, yet all you could think about during their discussion of the previous events was how you never got to eat the ice cream you risked your whole life for. “So,” Charles spoke, directing his attention to you. “What can you do exactly? What were you doing with that ice cream?” He hummed his eyes, raking you up and down, studying all your features. hoping they might tell him about who you are.

You were fairly normal-looking; I mean, to the average human eye, they couldn't tell you apart from another human. You felt like a deer in headlights right now, though; you'd never been asked or questioned about your mutation. You never dared to speak about it aloud; hell, your dad wouldn't even let you use your powers ever; it's like he was ashamed of you. “I can... manipulate things, i guess.” You spoke quietly; it felt taboo to you to speak about this, like this was some intimate, inappropriate topic to discuss. “And what do you mean by that?” He mused, deeply interested in your mystery. “I’m not exactly sure, sir. I just know I can do this.” You focus your eyes on the pen sat upon his desk, watching it quickly fall into a liquid puddle. “Fascinating.” Charles smiled up at you, “Can you change it back?” You trained your eyes down on the mess you created, quickly blinking as it slowly morphed back into its original shape of a pen.

Charles laughed in amusement before clasping his hands together. “We have much to discuss, little one, but for now Logan will show you to a room you can rest in. We'll talk more tomorrow.” He nodded at you before Logan had turned around out the door. You took this as your sign to follow, doors shutting behind you both. He guided you up the stairs, stopping at a random white door and handing over a towel and toothbrush he'd picked up on the way to your room. “Just try and get some sleep.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he spoke. “I’m just up the hall if you need anything, i guess.” He nodded his head in the direction of his door. You just smiled, turning around into your room and softly closing your door. 

You had no clue where the fuck you were or what these strange men were planning to do with you. You've heard the horror stories from your dad about how the government would poke and prod you if anyone knew what you could do. you'd be a test subject for rich white males to toy and play with. You'd set the towel and toothbrush down on a chair in the room you were assigned and slowly stalked your way to the bed. As you crawled into bed attempting to get some shut eye all that you could think to yourself was, "Man my dad is soo going to fucking kill me when he finds me."

[triglycercule]

this might be the most ambitious perspective ive done and its not even that damn hard. its literally just the foot/leg looking bigger. anyways sequal (AND TRIQUAL) for that little dust thingy i drew because i cannot make content of one mtt member and not the rest. here are my absolutely shitty sketches! theyre actually so bad its literally just a stick figure i dont know how i always turn this into art

and then i have a cute idea for a comic for dream and then a little thingy thingy for nightmare too. jk au RULES i have SO much motivation for drawing. me when i get to draw the cute adorable sweet things my heart ACHES for

[arts-i-enjoy]

Something I've noticed from subbing to just a couple of very small patreons (like fewer than 50 members) is how SHY people are about talking to the creator that they are paying! What's up with that? I wonder if it's because most of these patrons come via tumblr, where there is the culture of talking in the tags/reblogs and comments being your "outdoor voice"/basically it being RUDE to talk to people.

I think that's fucked up, especially in the context of artists (just to be clear every time I say artists that is inclusive of writers). Like these are people that are making a thing and showing it to you, they don't just want silent nods of approval by way of reblogs/likes. They want FEEDBACK. They want CONNECTION. I think a fundamental part of creating and sharing art is the goal of connection. And I don't think people realize how truly disheartening it is to post something and then get completely silent likes/reblogs.

For the love of God they are TALKING TO YOU. TALK BACK!!!!

[savannahsdeath]

hi savannah! i love ur writing a lot!! 😭

can u write something about reader getting high with ellie and.. you know how some people get high and horny? yeah. you can add more if you want, i’m not really good at writing ideas sorry!

- 🐻

DEALER!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

summary: you leave your little party with friends in order to visit your favourite dealer..

warnings: 18+!! weed n just smut

writers note: i have another bbf!dealer!ellie idea (the one i made a poll abt) but i still didnt write it and omg idk💔i swear itll be posted soon

you already smoked, quite a lot, but you and your friends agreed that's not enough. and since ellie, the best dealer in your college, likes you the most, you proposed you'll go for more.

and so you were walking through one of the biggest buildings in the campus, as close to the wall as possible, so if anything, you won't fall in the middle of the hallway, after the curfew.

you knocked on the door to her room, messier than anyone elses. you heard her swear under her breath, but she smiled as soon as she saw it's you. she softly, but firmly, dragged you inside, before anyone could notice your strange behaviour.

"look, i won't sell you anything." she immediately annouced, sounding almost disappointed.

you frowned, looking around and swinging your arms. "why not?"

"you had some already." she pointed at you, your red eyes and widened pupils. "plus, i don't trust your friends. i won't take any risks."

you smirked and playfully nudged her. "come on, i bet i'm the most responsible client you've ever had."

"maybe the prettiest one, but you're far from responsible." she shook her head with a shrug. "none of you knows when to stop."

you looked down, biting the inside of your cheek in thought, before catching her gaze again. "but you know. maybe you could-"

"no way." she cut you off with a chuckle.

you sighed and, without asking, sat on her couch, tapping your nails on your thighs, trying to come up with something.

she was visibly surprised by you - not only your visit, but the fact you still didn't leave. she said no, what else was there to talk about?

"look, you gotta give me a small amount, i'll take anything, i don't care." you replied, desperate.

you knew there's no convincing her, and you already felt the itch of a need you could barely suppress. she stared right through you, amused. your eyes already dilated. your hands shaking. the smell of her stash maddening.

you looked back at her and you knew that she was about to let you have it. but not because you asked. she was going to enjoy this.

"what if.. i'll give you one more." she smiled, rummaging through her drawers. "but you'll share it with me, not with them."

you pouted, raising your hands in confusion. "what do you mean?"

she held out a joint for you, but she moved it away as soon as you reached for it. "i mean, someone has to keep an eye on you. and i know how to, you said it yourself."

"but-"

you sighed and agreed. why not? no matter how she puts it, you knew you're going to enjoy her company, and she does have that good stuff.

"whatever you say, ellie." you replied, still pouty that you had to now share your hit. but you knew she's right, plus, you'd have to share it with all your friends otherwise.

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

your head was spinning and you were breathing harder. she laughed again as you coughed a little. her hand rested on your thigh, the couch you were sitting on surrounded by dirty clothes.

"feels good." you whispered.

you had weed in mind, but you realised it sounded like you were talking about her touch too late, after these words already escaped your mouth.

she looked at you with a smirk. "feeling good, huh?" her hand ran up your thigh a little more.

your mind was blown and you were way too high to figure out what to do. if that was her plan all along, it was working out perfectly.

you wanted more.

your head was clouded. you were giggling, giggling at yourself, giggling at the world. everything felt so funny and wonderful at once.

you wanted more.

you looked up at ellie and your eyes grow wide as you stared at her. she stared back at you for a few moments. you've never seen her like this.

no, that's not true. you've never felt her like this.

ellie smiled and moved a little closer to you. you could feel her presence and that's all there was.

you took another hit from the joint. and ellie was there to hold it as you did so.

you could feel her lips brush gently against your ear. you weren't sure what she was whispering. you just focused on how her hot breath tingled your neck.

she smiled. she knew exactly what's going to happen next, and she liked the fact that you could barely form any coherent thoughts, even though she wasn't much better, not at this point.

she took the joint from your lips as she looked up at you and smiled, not saying anything. she didn't need to.

she held the joint up and took a long, slow drag as you watched. sometning about it, about how the smoke drifted away when she exhaled, was just so attractive, you instinctively licked your lips. you focused on her soft breaths, making yours synchronize with hers, what helped you stay conscious.

she moved closer and you closed your eyes. you could feel her hair against your face, smell the scent of her hair.

as you opened your eyes, you realised that the world was spinning, and you and ellie were now on her bed. she had her mouth pressed up to yours.

you didn't know how long it's been going on for. maybe you just didn't care. but it felt good.

you gasped, right into her lips, as you noticed one of her hands is beneath your cotton panties. you didn't remember how it happened, but you were glad it got there. it moved synchronously to the rest of her body, but you figured out it was there just to test the waters as she started going down on you with her mouth without actually working with her fingers.

"you're even prettier when stoned." you giggled, not sure if you formed the sentence correctly, but basing on ellie's smile in response - it was understandable.

her tongue laid flat on the wet spot on your cotton underwear, making you realise your pants are on the floor. god, when did all of this happen? you didn't know there's a 'skip' button in real life, but at least you managed to come to your sense in the best moment possible.

"awh- do i really make you feel this way?" she chuckled against your clothed pussy. "i start to doubt you came here just because 'your friends picked you'.."

you hummed, twirling a strand of your hair around your finger. "you called me your prettiest client."

"and i don't take that back." she traced the hem of your panties, before sliding her fingers slightly down and caressing the outlines of your slit, barely visible through the soaked fabric. "mmh.. why does it matter now?"

"i'm just telling you- god." your hips uncontrollably raised, pressing against her hand. "just telling you, you shouldn't be surprised by this," you pointed at the surroundings of your lower stomach with your chin, "if you say things like that."

she finally, slowly took your underwear off, humming a little; "mhm". you weren't sure if it was supposed to be an answer for you, or an act of satisfaction at the view, but either one was fine.

she kissed your clit, pressing her tongue followed by her lips against it. the little touch had you moan, feeling a weird feeling of electricity starting from your core travel around your whole body. you didn't know if it was really that magic, or did the weed made you feel so much details.

she repeated this move a few times, each earning a moan or two from you. the knot you had in your head while trying to think of a way to make her sell you some more of her stuff was now in your stomach, loosening with every lick of her, now flattened, tongue. you tugged on the little bun she always had, pulling her closer to you with every small energy boost you got from time to time. you heard the sounds of your juices flow out, right to her mouth.

you squirmed under the bruising grip she had on your thighs, sometimes moving it to your lower stomach to gently press on it. when she did, you could see a spot in the shape of her hand, way lighter than the rest of your body, on the place she just left.

her eyes would sometimes look up at you, looking extremely innocent, what seemed weird compared to how her tongue fucked in and out of you.

ding!

you thought you heard sometning, but you quickly forgot about it, focusing back on ellie.

ding!

now, you were sure you heard something, but still didn't know what.

ding!

you saw your phone, laying on the floor near your pants, light up. your friends were spamming you, but your vision was all blurry and you didn't see anything. before the screen turned off again, you managed to notice one notification;

luccyy💞: idk about you, but for me, buying weed takes less than one hour

[stevie-petey]

episode nine: the good

Soon it’s just you and Steve. You work around one another, anticipating each other’s next move, never getting in the way. Soft music plays from the record player that sits in the den. Steve puts on one of his father’s old records, gentle rock and delicate jazz. You hum to yourself, he hums with you, and it’s a peaceful morning. Until Richard and May Harrington walk in. Neither of you notice them at first. Steve is too busy spinning you around, playfully dipping you as the music comes to a grand crescendo. You’re laughing breathlessly, but soon your laughter turns into a yelp when Steve sees his parents standing in the doorway and drops you.

Summary: the party battles the horrors of high school and leave you stranded, tw: applying for college is harder than fighting literal demons (you would know, youve done it), jonathan joins your nightmare blunt rotation, max worries you, and steve solidifies his position of Best Boyfriend in the World as you slowly fall apart (though is anyone really surprised ??).

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: cursing, allusions to previous character death

Words: 11.2k idk how or why i needed to say so much

Before you swing in: we're here !!! FINALLY at the end of season 3 <3333 im so so so excited to present to you the groundwork for what i have planned for season 4 ;) it will be ... a lot. the season is huge, its difficult and scary, and i did my best to try and capture its dread and ominous sense of doom in this chapter. please enjoy and bear with me as i prepare for season 4. unsure when i will be done planning her, but i PROMISE itll be worth it !!

-

“Are you sure Ms. Bote is nice?”

“Yes.”

“And that Mr. Cune won’t question the hat?”

“Yes, Dustin.”

“And you’re absolutely sure we have lunch together?”

“Yes.” You tighten the straps on your mary janes and give your brother an exasperated look. All morning he’s been freaking out about his first day of high school. You understand his fear, it’s scary starting at a new school, but you’ve answered all his questions a million times by now and Steve is supposed to be here any second. “We need to go, buddy.”

Dustin shoves a pancake into his mouth, wiping his face with the back of his hand in a disgusting manner. “Wait, but what about my backpack–”

“I have it, Dusty!” Your mother walks into the kitchen and hands it to him. She kisses his mess of curls and strokes your cheek. “Are my darlings ready for their first day of school?”

“No.” You and Dustin say at the same time, which your mother frowns at. 

Dustin adjusts his backpack and gives you an odd look. “Why are you nervous? It’s not like you’re being blindly thrown into a den of hormonal creatures out for blood. You’re old now, they’ll leave you alone!” 

“Trust me, the college admissions process is a worse monster than school bullies.” You grab your own backpack and start heading towards the front door. “I have to start planning what to write, I–I need more clubs, and projects, and–”

The anxiety overwhelms you. It always starts like this: talk about college, you fall down a hole of uncertainty and dread and fear. It’s been like this ever since Jonathan moved away. The minute the Byers moved, you threw yourself into preparing for college. Rationally, you know it’s your poor way of coping with all the sudden change in your life. You don’t need a psychological research journal to tell you that. In a futile attempt to control your future, you’ve become obsessed with college. 

New York University, specifically. 

Jonathan has always dreamed of attending, and when you met him, it became your dream, too. 

“Okay, dear. Settle down, now.” Your mother places a hand on your shoulder and laughs nervously. She has about five seconds before you collapse into a mess of college admissions rambling and despair. “Let’s go outside and find that wonderful Stevie!”

Your body is shoved out the front door alongside Dustin’s. Steve’s car is parked, he stands outside it, arms crossed and a grin on his face. Your body relaxes when you see him, the buzz of anxiety dims. He’s wearing his Family Video vest, the green makes his tanned skin glow.

“She’s doing it again.” Dustin tells him, tossing his backpack into the backseat.

Steve winces. He knows exactly what your brother is referring to. He’s been at the other end of far too many anxious phone calls at three in the morning. “College?”

“Yeah, she almost had a meltdown in the kitchen.”

“I can hear you both, you know.” Though you try to seem fine, keep up the annoyance, you stand next to Steve and rest your head on his shoulder anyways. He wraps an arm around you and kisses your forehead. 

Steve rubs your arm and makes a sympathetic noise. Your mother, seeing how he holds you, squeals. “Oh, stay just like that, hold on!”

“Mom, what–” But your mother ignores you and runs back inside the house. You look at Dustin, terrified. “She’s not…”

He shakes his head at you. He leans against the car next to you and crosses his arms, mimicking Steve’s earlier stance.  “She’s mom. Of course she is.”

“What are you guys talking about–” A flash of light momentarily blinds Steve, and he flinches. “Woah, alright.”

“Smile, kids!” Another camera flash, and your mother coos as you, Steve, and Dustin awkwardly shuffle into frame. It’s not that the three of you dislike being near the other, it’s the fact that it’s seven in the morning and neither you nor Dustin are ready for the day ahead. Steve smiles, though. “That’s it! Everyone say, ‘happy first day of school’!”

A mess of incoherent mumbling follows your mothers command, but she doesn’t let it bother her. She takes a million pictures, preens when she sees Steve smile even wider, and she has to hold back tears. Her babies are all grown up. Dustin is a freshman now, and you’re a senior.

“Alright, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve has to quickly blink, trying to regain his eyesight. He adores the woman, he knows he’s become her favorite, but he really needs to get you to school before his shift at Family Video starts. “I have no doubt you’ve already taken the best picture ever.”

“Aw, just one more–”

“Mom.” Dustin clears his throat, urging her to stop, and she sighs. 

Your mother kisses Dustin’s head, then yours, and wishes you a good first day before getting into her own car to drive to work. “Bye, kids!”

You all wave at her, and Steve opens the car door for you. Once you’re seated, he goes to the driver’s side and tells Dustin to get in the back. The engine starts, soft music plays from Steve’s radio, and soon the three of you are driving towards Hawkins high. 

“No Robin?” You ask Steve after a few minutes of silence. He’s grown rather close to the girl, working together all summer, so you had expected her to drive with you guys to school. When you and him officially got together, Robin made the two of you promise that you wouldn’t abandon her. It was an irrational fear, you love Robin dearly, but you made sure to spend time with her and Steve equally anyways. 

“She has band practice this morning,” Steve responds. “So it’s just me and the Hendersons today.”

Dustin shoves his head in between the two of you. His seatbelt strains against his chest, but he doesn’t care. He’s on a mission to get as much information as he possibly can. He refuses to go into high school blind and pathetic. “Steve, you were once popular.”

“Why the past tense? I mean, I’d consider myself still pretty well liked–”

“I need you to tell me what you did that led to your demise so I can avoid doing the same.”

You snort and Steve sighs. The kid really keeps him humble. He stops at a light, looks at Dustin through the rearview mirror, and shakes his head. “What makes you think it was anything I did?”

“Kid’s got a point,” you say from the passenger seat. Steve gives you an offended look and you raise your hands in surrender. “Hey, all I’m saying is that I also don’t really know what happened. You’ve got a track record of pissing off the wrong people. One minute you were King Steve, the next you were shunned.”

Steve groans. “You people have no faith in me.” He can feel you and Dustin staring at him, unbelieving. He hates when the two of you team up against him; it makes it harder for him to lie. Truthfully, he doesn’t want to tell you what happened. Not because he’s embarrassed, or ashamed, even. 

He knows it will only upset you. Reopen wounds. 

But you and Dustin keep staring at Steve and there’s still at least ten minutes left of the drive. Weighing his options, Steve figures it’s best if he just tells the truth. Like ripping off a bandaid, knowing the pain will be there regardless of how long you stall. “Okay, fine.” He scratches his nose, clears his throat. “It was, uh. Because of Billy.”

The temperature in the car drops. It’s suddenly ice cold. 

Dustin slowly leans back against his seat. Steve faces ahead, eyes on the road, but he watches you from his periphery. No one has mentioned Billy since his death, at least not in front of you or Max. 

Especially Max. 

They wait for you to react. To tense up, ball your hands into fists and wipe away tears. They expect the guilt you’ve barely kept hidden to resurface, but you don’t do any of that. Instead, you surprise them. “Can’t believe you let a mullet defeat you.”

Steve isn’t sure if he’s allowed to laugh at first, worried it’s some bizarre test of yours. But he sees the smile on your face, albeit forced and terse, but he knows you’re trying. So he plays along, relieved that you’re doing what you can. “I don’t know, I thought the mullet looked pretty good.”

“Get a mullet and see how fast I leave you.”

Dustin nods in agreement, Steve shakes his head with a laugh, and the temperature in the car returns. There’s still a slight chill in the air, there will always be a slight chill, but you pull your jacket tighter around you and ignore it. 

When you get to the school, Dustin stares at the hounds of teens all walking through the parking lot. He gulps, tightens his hands around his backpack, and you try to ease his apprehension. 

“Hey, look at me.” He does, and you extend your arm, offering a handshake. Dustin eyes you wearily, but reluctantly he shakes your hand. You nod at him, hand firm around his. “It’s just you and me. And Lucas. Max, too. Unfortunately, possibly Mike. Copy?”

“Copy.” Dustin releases your hand and salutes you. He pushes his hat down, takes a deep breath, and unbuckles his seatbelt. “Let’s go.”

“Good luck, little Henderson.” Steve salutes him as well before turning to you. He presses his lips to yours, hums, a soft smile on his face. “And good luck, angel.”

Ignoring Dustin’s dramatic gagging in the back, you squeeze Steve’s hand and smile back at him. “Thanks, honey. Have a good day at work.”

Dustin nearly falls out of the car with how fast he scrambles out of it. He’s about to ban all forms of physical affection between you and Steve. It’s disgusting. No one wants to see any of that. You follow after your brother and exit the car.

You only make it a few feet before Steve rolls down the car window and shouts, “I love you!”

A few students in the parking lot turn, and their faces contort into shock when they see none other than Steve Harrington. He waves at them, cocky as always, and you’re both mortified and so in love. He may have lost his crown, but he will always be the king. While Dustin ducks his head down in embarrassment, you wink at Steve. “I love you, too!”

“You’re going to be the reason I end up getting thrown into a dumpster on my first day.”

“Aw, is Dusty-bun jealous?”

“Go die.”

–

The entire day it feels like you’re missing something. 

When you get to homeroom, there isn’t a seat saved for you at the front. When the physics teacher drops his chalk five times within the first five minutes, there isn’t anyone to tease you for your poorly contained snicker. In the library, you’re forced to sit in a corner because there’s no one to share the plush sofa with. 

There’s no one who whispers answers to you during calculus. No one who hooks their foot around your desk’s leg. No one who doodles in your notebook just to get you to laugh. 

Jonathan’s absence is palpable. 

You knew it would feel weird, starting senior year without him, but you didn’t think it’d feel so lonely, either. Empty. Unfinished. 

By the time lunch comes, you’re slowly losing your mind. You need someone to talk to. Robin and Nancy don’t share any classes with you, Jonathan had been your only real friend at Hawkins, and now you’re paying the price. 

You’re the first one at the lunch table, which you figure is a good thing. Earlier in the week you and the party had all agreed to sit together at lunch, you’d been excited to finally share the same school building as them. However, you hadn’t wanted to hover over them. You wanted them to branch out, meet new people, so lunch was your agreed upon time with them. 

The lunch room fills with students and you wait anxiously for the rest of the party. You’re excited to see them, ask how their days are going, maybe even gossip about the freshmen, but when they arrive it’s almost as if a tornado rips right through you. 

“There you are!” Dustin finds you first and slides into the seat next to you, nearly causing you to face plant into the ground. “Look, we gotta talk.”

You frown. “Okay, is everything–”

“We can’t stay and eat.” Mike cuts to the chase, not even bothering to sit down. Lucas stands behind him, quiet and nervous.

“What, why?”

“Eddie Munson wants to meet us.” Dustin says the boy’s name as if you should know him. But you don’t, and now you’re really confused. What does he have to do with any of this?

“Eddie…?”

Mike rolls his eyes at you. “Eddie Munson, Hellfire club, DnD?” When he sees that nothing he’s saying makes any sense to you, he huffs. “Seriously, do you not know anything?”

You throw a chip at him, hurt. “I was in choir, not some stupid DnD club.”

“Hellfire club isn’t stupid–”

“Anyways!” Dustin cuts the fight short. There isn’t time for you and Mike to argue right now. “Eddie is the dungeon master, and he’s recruiting us to join his party! We–we gotta go and meet him, Y/N. He doesn’t just let plebe freshmen like us join.”

“He’s legendary.” Mike says, and sadly you know he means it. It’s not often someone has the boy’s full admiration. Mike is hard to impress, and this Eddie guy seems to have him wrapped around his finger already.

Dustin stares up at you, eyes pleading to understand, and you know you can’t ruin this for him. Only hours ago he had been terrified of his first day, and now he’s almost vibrating with excitement over the possibility of joining some club. There will be people there like him, others interested in what he loves, and you can’t let your own loneliness ruin that. 

“Well,” you clear your throat, try to appear excited for the boys. “Go see Eddie, then.”

“You sure?” Dustin doesn’t want to just leave, he knows you were looking forward to lunch today. He’ll stay if you need him to, he’s sure Mike can talk his way in with Eddie. 

You smile at him, force your voice to be light. They’re growing up. You all are. “I’m sure, it’s your first day. You’re supposed to be joining a bunch of clubs, it’s a good way to make friends. I’m proud of you. Seriously.”

Dustin isn’t entirely convinced, but Mike has already grabbed his arm to go and find Eddie. He turns to Lucas, beckons him to follow. “C’mon, dude.”

“I’ll-uh. Follow in a sec.” Mike gives him an odd look, but Lucas is already sitting down next to you. Seeing this, Mike gives up and leaves with Dustin. As soon as they’re gone, Lucas lowers his voice and leans in close to you. “Hey, do you, uh. Know Jason Carver?”

The scent of chocolate ice cream infiltrates your nose, the sound of it colliding into the teen’s pants rings in your ears. The memory of it is tangible, and you have to hold back a laugh. Yeah, you know Jason Carver. “I mean, we aren’t friends, but we know each other. Why?”

“Do you…” Lucas looks around, making sure Mike and Dustin really are gone, before he continues. “Do you think he’d let me join the basketball team?”

You’re surprised. Sure, Lucas has always shown an interest in the sport. He plays with Steve sometimes, they trade cards, but you didn’t think he’d be interested in the school’s team. “Oh.” Then, you realize why he’s stayed behind. “You don’t want to join Hellfire, do you?”

“I know I’m just a freshman, and–and Mike would probably call me dumb for wanting to even try out, but. I don’t know. I think… I think I could be really good on the team. Might make high school easier.”

“Then you should go for it,” you reassure Lucas. He’s always been so careful to not upset others. He’s loyal, down to his very core, you understand the fear that doing something for yourself brings. “Jason isn’t so bad. A bit much, but kind. He’s a team player, and I think they'd be lucky to have someone like you.”

Lucas smiles shyly at you. “Really?”

“Really. Now, go and find the guy. Ask him when try-outs are, and I’ll talk to Steve about practicing more with you. How’s that sound?”

“You’re the best!” Lucas gives you a quick hug, already getting out of his seat, and runs right into Max. They collide, he manages to save her from falling, and he laughs sheepishly. “Sorry, you okay?”

Max nods, silent, and immediately you and Lucas know that today is one of her bad days. Her eyes are sunken in, it doesn’t look like she got any sleep last night. She sits down next to you, and you nod at Lucas, signaling to him that it’s okay if he leaves. You’ll take care of her. 

Lucas hesitates, unsure, but reluctantly leaves when you nod at him once more, urging. If it was anyone else, he would stay, but it’s you. Besides Lucas, you’re the only other person Max talks to. You’ll stay with her, Lucas deserves to go and branch out like Mike and Dustin are.

“So, did you know about Lucas wanting to join the basketball team?” You turn to Max once the boy has left. She shrugs, picks at the food in front of her. It’s the most response you’ll get from her, and you sigh. “You don’t want to be here either, do you?”

She looks up at you, alarmed that you caught on so fast, and you just shake your head at her. You dig into your backpack, take out some cookies you baked the night before. They were supposed to be for all the kids today, but they’ve all left and Max needs them more right now. “Here, take these. Go to the left stairwell, next to the choir room. No one goes there during lunch, it’s quiet.”

“Thank you,” Max exhales with relief, taking the baked goods from you. Tears lump in her throat, she doesn’t know how you always manage to do this. To see through her, always say the right thing. 

“Of course, my dear.” You risk touching her face, she’s cold, but she closes her eyes and breathes in at the comfort. “I expect to see you at Bookstrordinary after school today, though.”

Somehow Max laughs, and the action hurts her to do so. It’s becoming harder and harder to bear the sound of her own happiness. But she nods at you, understanding that it’s an order she can’t disobey, and leaves. 

Then it’s just you at the lunch table. Alone. 

Nancy is at yearbook, she’s told you all about her grand plan of reforming the club into something more than just homecoming polls and gossip panels. Robin is at yet another band practice, preparing for the annual back to school pep rally later this week. Steve is at Family Video, bored out of his mind, both of you wishing he were here instead. 

And Jonathan is across the country, at an entirely different school, aching to be near you again. 

The thought of him in California only intensifies the loneliness that you feel. The feeling overwhelms you, and before it can swallow you whole, you dig through your backpack once more. Your fingers shake as you rustle through the notebooks and textbooks, and they clutch desperately at your walkman when you finally find it. The mixtape Jonathan made for you before he left sits within it. 

You quickly place the headphones over your head, muffling the sounds of the cafeteria around you. Your fingers find the play button with practiced ease, and soon the beginning notes of the Beatles play through the wire and into your headphones.

The song soothes you, it quiets what you don’t want to hear; it makes you smile. The mixtape is all you’ve been listening to ever since Jonathan left. Though it can never replace his presence, it’s enough for now. 

You stare at the empty seats around you. John Lennon’s voice floats through your ears. 

Welcome to senior year.

– 

Miraculously, it’s Nancy you lean on the most as the autumn leaves turn orange and the summer’s heat dies down. She finds you later during your first week, grabbing lunch from your locker, and she stops you. 

“Don’t tell me you’re going to spend another lunch alone.” Nancy has never been one to greet someone. She always gets straight to the point, a quality that you normally admire.

However, you feel embarrassment rise within you, slightly off put by the cruel words. Sure, you’re not necessarily thrilled that you’ve spent your first few days of senior year alone, but you didn’t need Nancy reminding you of that. “Hello to you too, Nance.”

“Shit, I didn’t mean to offend you.” She holds her notebook close to her chest and looks down in shame. It’s weird, there’s a distance between you that has only seemed to widen despite how hard the two of you try to bridge it. For a while things were good, great, even. She was genuinely your friend, but sometimes insecurities can hurt the ones people love the most. 

“Not really sure how I was meant to take that.” You close your locker and try to excuse yourself. You’re exhausted, you hardly slept the night before. “Look, I should go. I stayed up all night working on stupid college applications and I just… I’m tired.”

Nancy’s posture straightens, eager to grab onto any opportunity to amend things with you. “I can read over whatever you have.” When you raise your eyebrows at her, she quickly backtracks, worried she’s overstepped. “I–I mean, that is, if you want. Not that you need the help! It’s just–”

She forces herself to stop. She’s rushing her words, messing it all up. Her shoulders drop, Nancy takes a deep breath and looks you in the eye. She never apologized for her words earlier this summer. The way she sneered venom at you, but she’s carried the guilt of it ever since. “I’m… trying. I promise I am.”

Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers have never handled vulnerability well. It’s what made you stand out against them, set you apart, and you can’t help but find this quality in them endearing. You know that Nancy is trying to go back to how things were, before one phone call between the two of you revealed the unspoken resentment she held. 

You never blamed her for any of it. But you know she blames herself, and Jonathan’s absence doesn’t help; both of you miss him, neither of you can afford to lose anyone else. 

So you try as well.

“I’ll let you read over what I have only if you let me read what you’ve written as well.” You nudge her shoulder with yours, getting her to finally smile. “I’m curious to see what that brain of yours has thought of already.”

Nancy laughs, relieved. “Definitely nothing as creative as whatever you’ve written.”

“We’ll see about that, Wheeler.”

Soon you find yourself in the yearbook room. Nancy introduces you to some kid named Fred, who moons over her the entire time you’re there, though she doesn’t seem to notice. She’s too busy reading through your ideas, and you find yourself admiring her side profile. The way her eyelashes kiss her brows, the soft cherry on her lips.

Nancy is beautiful. You understand how Jonathan and Fred and Steve and countless other guys in Hawkins have lost their minds over her. 

You read through portions of Nancy’s writing, and the two of you sit quietly side by side editing the essays. She marks some things down, crosses out some lines, and you do the same. It’s lovely, being by her side again. You hadn’t realized just how much you missed her following the events of this summer. 

“So, New York University, huh?” Nancy eventually breaks the silence.

You nod, humming as you skim over a line that you particularly like. Circling it, you respond. “Yeah, it’s been my dream school ever since I was young.”

Though you’re applying to other schools as well. A few state schools, some in Virginia, close to your father. But New York is truly where you hope you’ll be next fall.

“Jonathan mentioned that you like psychology, right?”

“Yup,” you cross out an extra word. “Particularly child psychology. Figured that after everything we’ve been through, especially the kids, it’d be useful if at least one of us has any idea what’s going on inside our minds.”

Nancy chuckles. “Fair.”

It falls quiet again, but you don’t want the peace to end. “I heard from Jonathan that you’re looking into Emerson.”

“He tells you everything, doesn’t he?” Though this time Nancy’s question is asked with fondness, slight exasperation and humor mixed in.

“Mhm, we’re a package deal. You tell one of us something, then the other is bound to know eventually.” You look up at Nancy and lightly touch her arm. “Though he still keeps some things from me when it comes to you, don’t worry.”

She laughs again, and finally you allow the silence to settle upon you. It’s a comfortable one. There isn’t a tension underlying it. For the first time in a long time, you’re able to simply sit next to Nancy and feel that she wants you there with her. 

After that day, you and Nancy spend almost every lunch period helping each other with your applications. 

Steve helps you, too. In his own ways. 

While he can’t help you write the essays, he lets you call him at two in the morning to rattle off application ideas so you won’t forget them. He doesn’t complain when you wake him up and he has an early shift the next day. Instead, he listens. Steve offers you his own tired input and indulges in whatever you need to feel that you’ll succeed; he’s the most doting, patient boyfriend you could ever ask for. 

And, secretly, Steve adores it. Especially when you call him some nights just to have him come over and hold you. 

Those are his favorite nights. Tonight is one of them.

“Why does college exist?” Your cheek is pressed against Steve’s chest as you lay in your bed together. The steady rise and fall of his breathing is melodic. 

He plays with a strand of your hair, you feel him shrug. “‘Dunno, but you’re almost done.”

“Yeah, just have one more application to send before I get to spend four agonizing months waiting to find out if I even get in. How fun.” Sarcasm drips from your lips. You’ve spent the last two months obsessing over it all, which words to write in your essays, which clubs to join, which teachers to beg for recommendation letters. 

And now you have one application left. Then you’ll be forced to wait, without any control of the inevitable outcome. 

You’ve never been someone comfortable with letting go of control. 

“Everything will be fine, angel. NYU would be stupid not to let you in.” Steve reassures you with a kiss to your temple, then to your cheek, the tip of your nose, the dip of your brows. As he kisses you, he envisions doing this a year from now, in a small, rundown apartment with sirens wailing outside and a fire escape that creaks in the wind. The song of New York City. 

Eventually Steve’s lips will find yours, and the conversation will be long forgotten. It’s how most of your nights end now, lost in the kisses as his breath mixes with yours. Hands will wander. Sighs will leave parted mouths. Quiet, soft, aware of the precariously thin walls. 

You haven't slept with Steve, at least not yet. Though you’ve been together a few months now, it still feels too soon. He’s your first boyfriend, your first kiss, your first real love, and Steve doesn’t want to rush you. If all you ever do together is lazily kiss and breathe each other in, then Steve will happily part your lips with his and draw soft sighs out from you.

In the morning you’ll awake with Steve’s lips on your neck, his eyes shining up at you, and in the morning sunlight, before you’ve fully woken up, the air between you is sacred. 

–

“I sent in my final application,” you’re whispering, not wanting to wake up your mom who has fallen asleep on the couch. It’s nearly midnight in Indiana, but in California it’s only nine and Jonathan has just finished his school work for the night. “NYU, it’s done.”

On the other end you hear shuffling as Jonathan leans against his kitchen wall. Will sits at the table with El, he sketches the early stages of a painting and she studies grammar. Jonathan watches them, his mom is in bed, and he forgets for a moment that he’s on the phone with you.

“Bee?” You say the childhood name so softly, so tenderly with concern, and it brings Jonathan back to himself. 

“I’m here, sorry.” He clears his throat, his head is still slightly muffled. Jonathan met a guy in woodshop this week, his name is Argyle, and somehow during lunch he found himself in the back of the guy’s van with a blunt hanging loosely from his lips. The smoke dulled the ache of missing Nancy, of missing you. Jonathan can’t tell you this, though. You’d kill him, and he hates disappointing you. “What were you saying?”

You frown slightly, he sounds different. There’s something in his voice, it’s raspy and he sounds distant. The sound is lonely, he sounds lonely. Jonathan isn’t really here, despite the fact that he’s talking to you. The last few phone calls have been like this. You don’t know what to do.  

When Jonathan left, the two of you promised to call each other every Friday, a compromise. A way to create distance, yet tether you to each other. Jonathan calls you every Friday, Nancy gets him every day the rest of the week, and it works. This is how it’s always been ever since early September.

At first you guys would talk about how your weeks had gone. Jonathan would complain about the California heat and you would tell him about how Mike and Lucas had crashed your date with Steve one night. Laughter would float over the telephone lines. Teasing, whispered “I miss you’s” and spoken goodbyes with the promise of talking again next week. 

But last week when you called, the teasing was gone. The laughter was minimal. You had complained about an exam that day and Jonathan had given one word responses that had worried you. It had been odd, but you thought that maybe he’d been tired that day. Everyone has a bad day, you know this.

Yet it’s Friday again and Jonathan couldn’t feel farther away from you.

“I mailed my NYU application in, bee. You send in yours yet?” Voice light, cheery. You do what you can to try and keep him afloat. You try to grasp at the good that’s left between you. Remind Jonathan that you’re right here, still with him, without scaring him away. “You remember our plan, right? Me and you in New York, together.”

Since you were kids the plan has always been to go to college together. Back then, neither of you could fathom a reason to ever be apart. You were invincible, the same way all kids think they are before the world tells them otherwise. 

But you and Jonathan aren’t invincible, you never were. 

You can hear the way your question suffocates him. The breath that he holds, stilted and torn, suffocates you as well. 

Nausea punches Jonathan, the smoke from earlier suddenly fogs his throat. He doesn’t know what to do. Nancy wants him to go to Emerson with her, he promised you NYU when he was twelve, and California has his mother and Will.

“Yeah, yeah. I–I mean, I sent mine in. Last week.”

Jonathan is lying. You’ve known him for almost six years; he always stumbles over his words when he lies.  

Part of you wants to ask him why he’s doing this, lying to you and pulling away. Another part of you, the larger, more naive part, doesn’t want to believe it. You clear your throat, swallow down the hurt, and choose naivety. “Oh,” your tone is too pinched, too put together. You clear your throat again. “That’s–that’s great! I, um. Surprised you didn’t read the essays to me. Have me edit them, like we’ve always done.”

Jonathan leans his head against the wall and squeezes his eyes shut. He’s never been able to lie to you, he knows you’re desperately trying to overcompensate, as you always do. He hates it. He hates himself. “Yeah, well. Got excited, I guess.”

You hum, words failing you, and the line goes silent.

Dread replaces the laughter that night.

– 

Before you know it, it’s Halloween and the party has infiltrated Steve’s house. 

The holiday falls on a Saturday, and the party deems itself too old to trick or treat. When they find out that Steve’s parents won’t be home that weekend, they demand to spend the night at his house and watch horror movies.

Steve fights back, complains that he doesn’t want them taking over his living room, but his complaints fall on deaf ears. That, and Dustin ropes Robin into their plans. 

“Oh, God. Don’t open the door!” Dustin shrieks, throwing popcorn at Steve’s TV as he covers his eyes with a blanket. He cowers against Lucas, who shoves him off, and Mike snickers. Max sits on the couch, outside of their fort, and watches the boys. None of them try to get her to sit with them. They know they’re lucky that she even showed in the first place. 

“I can’t look.” Robin’s voice carries over, you can almost picture her cringing as she holds a pillow to her chest. Mike chose a particularly gory movie, and the kid’s mind frightens her.

A loud crash sounds, then a woman screams. You figure the protagonist did open the door and has now died, though you can’t be sure. You’re in the kitchen with Steve, taking out the final batch of oatmeal raisin cookies from the oven. The smell wafts through the home, bringing warmth to a house that Steve has always found cold, and he places his hands on your hips. 

“You spoil the kids too much,” he presses his nose against your cheek and kisses you. “They invade my home and you bake them delicious goods.”

You set the tray of cookies down onto the counter. “As if the cookies aren’t for you, too.”

“That isn’t important. We’re focusing on my hostage house, Y/N.”

“‘Hostage house’, quite the alliteration there.”

Steve now kisses your neck, distracting you as you plate the cookies. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.” 

“Don’t make me come in there!” Dustin screams, and Robin echoes him with her own disgusted yelling. 

You laugh at their theatrics while Steve rolls his eyes. He really hates that his house has become the party’s source of entertainment. He just wants to compliment his beautiful girlfriend in peace. Who would punish a guy for that?

In his moping Steve almost misses you walking back into the living room. He follows, stumbles over his feet, never wanting to be more than a few inches away from you. You’re magnetic, always pulling him in. 

Mike is the first to grab a handful of cookies. Lucas and Dustin follow quickly after. They shove the food into their mouths and you scoff at their lack of manners. They’re such boys, growing taller every day, and they’re just as disgusting as they were when they were kids. 

“Want one, Max?” You hold the plate up to her, noticing that she hasn’t moved from her seat. She shakes her head at you, eyes never leaving the screen. Lucas and you share a look, the same concerned expression on your faces. 

The moment is broken by Robin, who grabs a cookie and practically melts. “Holy shit, Y/N. You bake these regularly?”

“Usually once a week,” you shrug at her. “Though I once baked six batches during finals week.”

“God, that was a good week.” Dustin hums, lost in the blissful memory.

Robin grabs your arm, eyes wide with enthusiasm. “I will give you my firstborn child in exchange for my own batch of cookies.”

Steve pokes her shoulder. “You already promised your firstborn to me after I agreed to cover your weekend shift.”

“I can have twins.”

You laugh at her. “That’s a terrifying thought.”

Robin sticks her tongue out at you, causing you to laugh even more, and Mike puts the next movie on. Everyone settles back down, you lay with Steve in the lovechair with Robin in front of you. Max has the couch to herself, the boys are sprawled on the floor in a mess of pillows and blankets, and for the first time in months you feel a certain warmth having your family together. 

Sometime during the night the clock strikes twelve. 

It’s November 1st, 1985. 

Steve’s nineteenth birthday. 

Robin snores softly on the ground, arm underneath her head as a makeshift pillow. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas are all curled up against one another, their faces young again. Max sleeps softly on the couch, her hand dangles over the edge, grazing Lucas’ outstretched arm and open palm. 

Steve lays beneath you, he isn’t quite asleep yet. You’ve come to learn the rhythm of his breaths as he sleeps. The way they slow, the pattern steady. You lift your head up, wanting to admire him, and find that he’s already looking at you. 

“Hi, angel.” He whispers, smiling sweetly. 

You smile back, you always smile back at him. “Hi, honey.” Doing your best to remain quiet, you crawl up the length of Steve and nuzzle your way into his neck. You kiss the dip just above his collarbone, causing him to shiver. “Happy birthday.”

Arms encase you, pull you deeper into the body you lay on. Steve’s body heat warms your face, warms your bones, and you wish you could stay like this forever. In Steve’s arms, the scent of him overwhelming your mind, his touch calming you. 

“Thank you,” he kisses the top of your head. He lingers, his lips soft. The two of you stay like this, his head against yours, your chin tucked into the alcove of his neck. Your breathing syncs with his, his fingers trail up and down your spine. Your fingers splay over his chest, warming his ribs. 

In the morning, Max wakes everyone up. 

“My mom will be worried,” she kicks Mike, nudges Lucas’ shoulder. “Wake up, idiots.” 

Steve groans, squinting his eyes against the morning light. He tries to roll over and block it out and nearly shoves you off the seat in the process. “Steve!” He manages to catch you in his sleepy state, but his movements are slow. 

“Sorry!”

You clutch your chest, heart pounding. “You’ve done that way too many times now. I’m starting to think you want to throw me onto the ground.”

“Lucas once promised he could catch me if I jumped into his arms.” Max says, then she points to a scar on her knee. “Turned out he couldn’t.” 

“Hey!” Lucas sits up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “I really thought I could do it.”

Mike stretches. “Your fault for trusting him, Max.”

Lucas shoves him and the two start to wrestle on the floor. They’re a tangle of lanky limbs, knocking into Dustin who still hasn’t woken up yet. They roll on top of the boy, and he wakes up to Lucas’ knee in his face. “What the hell?”

Dustin joins the fighting now, and Robin throws a pillow at them. “Guys! It’s too early for this!”

They don’t listen. 

It takes a lot of pleading, negotiating, and bribes in order to break the fight up. It takes even longer to wrangle the kids out of Steve’s home, much to his dismay. They leave a mess of strewn popcorn all over the carpet and pillows missing feathers. You stay behind, offering to help clean the mess, and Robin rushes out an apology and happy birthday to Steve as she runs out the door to get to work. 

Soon it’s just you and Steve. You work around one another, anticipating each other’s next move, never getting in the way. Soft music plays from the record player that sits in the den. Steve puts on one of his father’s old records, gentle rock and delicate jazz. You hum to yourself, he hums with you, and it’s a peaceful morning.

Until Richard and May Harrington walk in.

Neither of you notice them at first. Steve is too busy spinning you around, playfully dipping you as the music comes to a grand crescendo. You’re laughing breathlessly, but soon your laughter turns into a yelp when Steve sees his parents standing in the doorway and drops you.

“Dad!” Steve immediately bends down to pick you up, endlessly apologetic. He ducks his head, eyes on you, though his body doesn’t turn from his father. “I’m sorry, angel. You alright?”

You reassure your boyfriend that you’re fine, more worried about the fact that you’re dressed in clothes from yesterday with horrendous bedhead meeting his parents for the first time. Richard eyes you in Steve’s arms. He has a look of disinterest on his face. “Son.”

“What, uh.” Steve clears his throat, curls a protective arm around your waist. He didn’t mean for this to happen. His parents were supposed to be gone until Tuesday. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here.” 

“Right.”

Father and son stand in front of one another. Neither speaks. Steve feels like a little boy again, scrutinized underneath his father’s intense gaze. Never good enough. Never worthy of anything other than berating and lectures. 

You wring your hands nervously, unsure what to do. The air is thick. Steve looks so much like his father, it’s almost uncanny. They have the same build, the same moles that dot along their handsome faces. Only his father is dressed in a suit, the lines in his face are hard, weathered. He’s who you picture Steve would’ve been, in a different universe where you were never his friend. 

May Harrington gave her son all of her delicate features. The soft turn of his nose. The plush, pink lips. His doe eyes, his smile. The only feature that separates her from her son is her honey blonde hair. She’s beautiful, elegant and poised, and when she steps towards you, you can smell lavender perfume. “You must be Y/N. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Hi, Mrs. Harrington.” You’re quick to meet her where she stands. You’re nervous, you have to discreetly wipe your hand on your pants before shaking hers. “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you. Your banana bread is lovely.”

The woman smiles, it’s so much like Steve’s that you want to cry. “Thank you, dear.”

“Of course, and I apologize for meeting like this. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Richard makes a mean, gruff sound. He shakes his head, steps next to his wife. He doesn’t like you, you can feel it by the way he blocks his wife’s view of you. “Oh, no. I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Dad–” Steve steps forward as well, blocking his father’s view of you. He’s angry, his shoulder blades close together. He doesn’t like how the man is treating you; you’re too good for such cruelty.

“What did I tell you about bringing your hookups to the house, son?” Richard sneers, turning his nose up at you. That’s all he sees you as. Just another one of Steve’s flings, one of the girls from his past. 

“Y/N is not just some hookup,” Steve clenches his jaw, tries to steady his breathing. He doesn’t want to fight with his dad in front of you. Not when he was having such a good morning, spending his birthday with your hands wrapped around his neck and your giggles singing in his ears. “She’s my girlfriend, and I love her.”

Richard chuckles, he doesn’t believe his son. “Okay, you love her. I’m sure your mother and I will walk in on you with some new girl next week.”

“Dear,” May places a hand on her husband’s shoulder. She sees the way you shrink into yourself at the man’s words. The insecurity that he brings. She sees how her son’s eyes ignite with fury, she watches as he does whatever he can to put the flame out for her sake and your’s. “It’s Steve’s birthday today.”

“Is that why you insisted on coming home today?” Richard turns to her, she has his full attention now. His eyebrows are drawn together, annoyance paints his body. “You told me you had a board meeting tonight.” 

“Why don’t we talk about this upstairs?” May suggests, relieved that she’s turned her husband’s anger onto herself rather than her son. Richard sighs, but he doesn’t argue as he marches up the stairs without so much as a second glance towards you. When he’s gone, May smiles at you sympathetically. “I apologize for my husband’s behavior. We had a long flight, I’m sure he’s simply jetlagged.” 

“Yeah, that’s why he’s such an asshole.” Steve scoffs, tired of his mother’s excuses for her husband. He can be cruel to Steve, he doesn’t care. He’s been cruel to him his entire life. But if his father so much as breathes near you again, Steve will hurt him. 

Your hand reaches for Steve’s, sensing what he’s thinking. You return May’s smile, you’re not at all angry with her. “It’s okay, really. I was an unexpected guest, and I should go.”

Steve pulls you into his chest. “What, no–”

“You may leave, if you’d like.” His mother gently interrupts him. “Though I must admit, I really do wish to know you better. If you’d allow me to, that is.”

“I’d love that more than anything.”

“Then I will plan a dinner for the next time my husband and I are in town.” May tells you, admiring your honesty. She can see why Steve has become so infatuated with you. There’s nothing hidden within you; you wear your heart on your sleeve, your sincerity a welcomed rarity. She turns to her son, rests her palm delicately against his face. “Happy birthday, my beautiful boy.”

Steve leans into her touch, weak for his mother as any son is. You turn away, it doesn’t feel right to watch this moment between them. 

In the car Steve profusely apologizes for his father’s behavior. Over and over again, he laments how sorry he is and that you’re more than just some fling to him. “You’re everything to me, angel. I love you so, so much.”

“I know, honey.” You grab his hand that rests against the stick shift. His father’s words had hurt, but you knew that they weren’t true. Steve is your’s, he has been for longer than either of you realize. Nothing will ever undo the love he has for you, the foundation of trust it was built upon. “You’re everything to me, too.”

When Steve pulls into your driveway, you tell him to park and come inside. His birthday gift is in your room. You had planned to give it to him later tonight, but his parents’ unexpected arrival had soured things. “I know you have to go home, but…”

“I’ll never say no to you.” Steve’s already unbuckling his seatbelt to follow you inside. He greets your mother with a kiss to her cheek, ruffles Dustin’s hair as he sits at the dining table doing homework. His movements are easy, leisurely. You notice now how at home he is in yours, far from the boy who cowered before his father only twenty minutes ago. The realization is bittersweet. He deserves to feel at home in his own house, not just yours. 

Inside your room Steve sits on your bed and holds his hand out, eager. “Okay, wow me, Henderson.”

“You really know how to talk to a woman.” You tease him, rustling through your drawer to find the gift you’ve hidden. Steve is nosy, he’s been trying to find his gift for at least two weeks now. When you’ve found it, you clutch the gift in your hand and hold it behind your back. “Alright, you know the drill by now. Close your eyes.”

Steve complies with a smirk, biting back suggestive comments. He loves this tradition with you, making the other close their eyes before their gift. Something light is placed in Steve’s hand. It’s circular, sturdy. He thinks he can smell leather.

“Okay, open.”

In his hand is a bracelet. It’s a simple strip of leather, nothing embellishes it besides a button to secure it. Though it’s plain, Steve can tell that it’s expensive. The leather is supple, its color is dark and polished. The silver button that clasps the two ends together is heavy.

He loves it, he does, but he can’t help feeling like that there must be something more to it.

As if reading his mind, you gently prompt Steve to turn it over in his hands. “Look what’s on the inside, honey.”

He does, and his heart stops.

The leather has been stamped. The word constants is spelled out across the length of the band. It’s a hidden message, only for Steve to know, and while he’s sure you have your own explanation for why you chose the word constants, he loves it already. “Oh.”

You sit next to him and laugh softly. “You’re my constant, Steve. Everything in my life has changed, or will change, but you… You’ve always been there, I know you’ll always be there. With me. My love, my lucky charm, my constant.”

Tears well in Steve’s eyes. He doesn’t bother wiping them away, too busy admiring the bracelet in his hand. He can’t believe you’re real, that you’ve thought of this for him. That you see a future with him… It’s everything he could’ve asked for. A security he’s always longed to have. His entire life he’s been told he’s too much, too overwhelming, and yet you want him to stay anyways. 

“And you’re my constant?” He asks you, fingers grazing over the letters again.

You nudge his shoulder with yours. “Well, I’d like to think that I am.”

He laughs, wet and full of love, and he can’t take it anymore. Steve throws his arms over you and you collapse into your bed, laughing together as he presses his lips wherever they can reach. 

“You are,” he says in between kisses. Your laughter lights him. “You’re my constant, too.”

–

The autumn leaves fall and the trees are barren as winter arrives. 

You spend winter break trying to maintain your promise to Joyce. After finishing the hell that was applying to college, you have so much unexpected free time that at first you don't know what to do. But then her words echo in your mind, the promise to live the life that you deserve, so you start doing things for yourself.

Slowly you read through all the books in your room that you hadn't had time for before. You start running again in the mornings, the winter air crisp in your lungs. You and Dustin do homework together at the kitchen table, making sure neither of you get left behind. You try new recipes to bake, delivering the treats to the ones you love. It’s nice, rediscovering the pleasures you once had long before the Upside Down came into your life. 

Christmas comes and you do your annual rounds, delivering everyone’s favorite treats on Christmas Eve. It’s during your run to the Sinclair home that Lucas asks you to come inside to talk. 

“What’s up?” You ask him, unwrapping your scarf and warming your hands in your sleeves. Lucas gestures to his kitchen table, silently asking you to sit. When you do, he takes a deep breath and joins you. 

Something’s bothering him. You can see it in the way he carries a weight on his shoulders. How they droop as he sits, exhausted. You reach across the table and grab his hand, offering whatever comfort you can give him. “Whatever it is, you can talk to me.”

“It’s…” Lucas purses his lips, his breath shakes. “It’s Max. I’m–I’m worried about her.”

He tells you everything. He tells you how distant she’s been, more than she’s ever been before. He tells you how she’s missed dates he’s planned for her, how she refuses to talk to him anymore. She hasn’t been to any of the party’s hangouts, Mike and Dustin haven’t seen her ever since winter break started.

Max has had bad days, weeks, even months since losing Billy. But she’s never had the bad days without at least one good day following. To break the monotonous cycle of self-loathing and grief and guilt. She would always come back, even if for a moment, alive and bright and reminiscent of the girl had been. 

“I can feel her slipping away,” Lucas looks down at the table. He’s afraid that if he looks at you then he’ll start crying. He doesn’t want you to worry, he knows how much you already deal with and do for them, but he’s terrified. “I know… I know that you helped Will, after he was flayed. Do you think you could maybe talk to Max? Just… Remind her that we’re here for her? I can’t–I can’t lose her.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you squeeze his hand in yours, trying to stem the stream of tears he fought so hard to force down. Lucas loves Max with everything within him. Anyone can see that. You’d do anything to bring the girl back to him, to bring her back to all of you. “I’ll talk to her.”

I’ll keep an eye on her. Watch her when you can’t. 

Lucas hears it. He exhales, nods his head.

You leave. Max was the next one on your list of deliveries anyways. 

It’s nearing dusk by the time you get to the trailer park. You haven’t seen Max’s new home, she’s only recently moved. She had been too embarrassed to tell anyone that her mother lost their old house. The only reason you even know she moved in the first place is because Lucas and Dustin stalked her walking home. 

A dog barks as you bike past. Snow has started to fall, tomorrow will be a white Christmas.

“Oh, hello, Y/N.” Susan Hargrove’s skin is pale, her eyes sunken in when she answers the door. Her voice is thin, her frame is strained. The death has been hard on her, too. Billy’s father leaving only made everything worse. 

“Hi, Mrs. Hargrove.”

The woman winces. “Please, Mayfield will be fine.”

You immediately correct yourself, apologetic and ashamed, when Max’s voice calls from within the home. “Just let Y/N in, mom.”

Susan sighs, and you wish you could do more. Instead, all you can offer her is the container of coconut bites you’ve made for them. Max told you they remind her and her mother of California, and you always make sure to have some ready every week for them. Offer some semblance of joy in the gray of their lives.

Max sits at the kitchen table. Her head is down as she works on something. She has her walkman next to her. Susan leaves the two of you alone, excusing herself to go lay down after a long shift. 

You sit next to the girl and take a deep breath. This won’t be easy. Max is prideful, stubbornly independent, and has never accepted sympathy from anyone. You’ve always admired her fiery personality, but the fire has dimmed and the smoke is beginning to choke her. Talking to her will be like pulling teeth out. 

“Brought you your favorites.” You shake the container in your hands. It serves as a peace offering, almost a bribe to start the conversation. 

“Thanks.” Max doesn’t look up. 

You swallow, tuck your hair behind your ears. “Of course. I was doing my usual delivery rounds. I, uh. Stopped at the Sinclair’s.”

The pencil in Max’s hand freezes. Her knuckles tighten, though the shift is subtle. She’s always been too smart for her own good. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Erica likes my brownies. Mrs. Sinclair, too.”

“And Lucas?” She knows why you’re here.

“I made him chocolate chip cookies. You know how much he loves them.” Max doesn’t respond. Of course she knows how much Lucas enjoys chocolate chip cookies. She knows everything about him, but she doesn’t say anything and goes back to writing. Faintly you hear music coming from the walkman. You point at the device. “New song?”

“Kate Bush.”

“Oh.” This is going worse than you imagined. “Look, Max–”

She doesn’t waste any time. “I know Lucas sent you. I don’t care.”

“He’s just worried about you, we all are–”

“I’m fine.” The tip of the pencil snaps. “Shit.”

“Max.” You’re pleading with her to listen. Her skin is fluorescent now, paler than you’ve ever seen. The bags underneath her eyes are swollen, dark and ghostly. She’s lost weight. You can’t remember the last time you saw her eat. “Please.”

“What do you want me to do?” Though there’s anger in her voice, Max’s eyes plead with you, too. Her mask slips for just a moment, but you see it. Underneath her indifferent exterior, she’s just as terrified as everyone else is. She can feel herself fading, the guilt of Billy’s death slowly eats her alive. She doesn’t know what to do, though. How do you continue to live after death has infiltrated your home?

The chair beneath you scraps against the hardwood floor. You stand up, walk over to Max and kneel in front of her. You keep your movements slow, worried you’ll scare her away if you get too close too suddenly. “I think you should talk to someone, honey.”

Max turns away. She can’t. If she told anyone what goes on inside her head, they would never forgive her. You would never forgive her, and it would break her. 

Your hand falls to Max’s knee. The warmth from your palm combats the ice in her veins. You’re looking at her as if she’s worth something. As if she didn’t wish for her brother’s death. As if she hadn’t sent a grieving father into a spiral, a desperate mother into a trailer park. But Max allows your touch, so you try to get through to her again.

“You know, I was actually talking to Ms. Kelly a few weeks ago. The school’s guidance counselor.” She had met with you to discuss your grades and college options. When she had seen how you picked your nails until they bled, she suggested seeing her every few weeks. Alleviate some of your never ending stress. You had denied, uncomfortable with the idea. But maybe she could help Max. “She seemed nice enough. I’m sure she would be open to talking with you.”

“I don’t want to see some shrink.”

“Hey, I want to work with kids your age someday. Don’t call future me a shrink.” You poke Max’s leg playfully, and the corners of her mouth twitch. She doesn’t want you to see that it’s working. “C’mon. Have at least one meeting with her. When winter break ends, all I ask is that you try. For me and Lucas. We’re your favorites, after all.”

“If I agree, will it get you to shut up?”

You’re fine with this. It isn’t ideal, you aren’t sure Max will even actually try to open up to Ms. Kelly, but it’s a start. For too long now you’ve stayed silent, allowing Max to grieve on her own. Grief is hard, it takes and it takes and it takes. Yet it’s been almost six months and you’re not sure how much left grief can take from Max. “I think I can be okay with that.”

You’ll take whatever you can get. You’re worried. You got too caught up in your own life, you had gotten lost in your own haze of grief and anxiety. Missing Jonathan, grappling with change and growing up as you applied to college. You weren’t there for Max like you should’ve been.

But you’ll fix this. You always fix things. It’s what you do. It’s what you have to do. It’s how you love; you take care of those around you.

And who are you if you can’t?

–

Jonathan calls you high for the first time in late January. 

Though he doesn’t tell you that he’s high, you know. His words are slurred, slowed, incomprehensible. It’s late in California, even later in Indiana, and the stark feeling of guilt slices into your ribcage the same way the Demodog’s claw did. The feeling cuts deep into your skin, nicks your bone. 

“Jonathan?” You hope your voice brings him back to you. You try to cut through the smoke that fills his mind, that leaves him stumbling over his words. “Bee, can you hear me?”

“‘M here.” Jonathan sniffs, smacks his lips, yawns. “Where’re you? Can’t find you, bug.”

You close your eyes. He’s looking for you, and you aren’t with him. “I’m in Hawkins.”

“Thas’ far.”

“Yeah,” you choke out a laugh. It constricts in your vocal chords, but you can’t let Jonathan know how much it hurts to hear him so disoriented. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay. California sucks.” He hiccups, you’re surprised he’s managed to call you tonight. Even in his drugged up state, he still somehow remembered to call. “Don’t think Nance will like it.”

He’s referring to the spring break trip. Nancy told you about it earlier today, how she and Mike will spend the week in California to see Jonathan and El. She had been a bit hesitant to tell you, afraid you’d be upset for not being invited, but you reassured her that it was okay. 

You’ve had a road trip planned with Jonathan ever since you were fifteen. The moment the two of you graduate, you’ll drive all across the country for one final adventure before college. 

Nancy can have spring. Summer will be yours. 

“She’ll love California because you’re there.” She talked about the trip nonstop today. Her glow had come back, momentarily, her eyes alight. She truly loves Jonathan, she misses him even more than you do. 

“Only disappoint her.”

“What do you mean?” You’re not sure where this is coming from. You know Jonathan is high, that his thoughts may not be coherent, but he sounds distressed about Nancy. You thought things had been good between them. They were planning a future together. 

“Is’ hard, with her.” Jonathan manages to get out, but his speech is becoming harder and harder to understand.

You frown. “What’s hard, bee?”

The line disconnects. Jonathan doesn’t bring the conversation up again, the next time you call. You don’t ask him what he meant. You don’t think you want to know. There had been something deeper behind his words.

Will calls you a few days later in tears. The kids are meaner in California than they are in Hawkins. They tease El, make her life hell, and he’s upset that he can’t do anything to stop it. He cries to you, his tears soak your face through the landline, and the guilt creeps back in. 

It will never truly leave.

You do your best to console him, offer him advice, but that’s all you can do. All you have are your words. Will and El are hours away, hundreds of miles separate them from you. It's nauseating, feeling so useless. For as long as you’ve known Will, you’ve always been able to protect him. To help him, dry his eyes.

You’ve always been there for your boys, for Jonathan and Will. For El. But you can’t get to them, they’re too far away, and it kills you. You’re sixteen again, trapped in Jonathan’s car and frantically trying to keep yourself together as everything around you falls apart. 

Steve becomes your lifeline. 

He always answers when you call. Every time Jonathan, high and lonely, hangs up your conversations, you call Steve. He answers, he hears the exhaustion in your voice, and he always sneaks in through your window later that night. He knows it’s the only way you’re able to sleep these days.

He sings to you when you wake up from a nightmare. They’ve become about Max, losing her. She’s only met with Ms. Kelly a few times, but you can tell that she already wants to stop. That you’re pushing her too far, pushing her away from you and everyone else. 

Steve takes you for drives when you get blisters from pacing your room, anxiously waiting for your college decision letters to come in. Soon your entire life will be decided for you by one single piece of paper. 

Two weeks before spring break, Jonathan calls you. He’s sober.

You can’t remember the last time you’ve spoken to him sober. The thought alone depresses you, makes you yearn for childhood again.

“I think Nancy wants me to come to Hawkins,” he tells you. “Would you… would you like that?”

More than anything.

You press the phone against your ear and imagine that it’s Jonathan’s hand instead. Your skin hasn’t forgotten how his felt against it. “Of course I want you to come to Hawkins, bee.” But it can’t be that easy, you know nothing ever comes easily. “Can you afford it, though? I–I mean, God. I miss you, you know that, but I know it’s been hard for your family these last few years.”

Jonathan’s head falls back against the wall behind him. You always understand. He hates it, sometimes. “It’s worth looking into if it means I get to see you and Nance.”

There’s an air of authority in Jonathan’s voice, as if he truly believes what he’s saying, and it surprises you. He’s taking initiative after months of floating away. Hope sparks within you, the cold hand of dread lessens its grip around your neck. 

“Well, I can’t argue with that logic.” You say. Jonathan laughs, you’ve missed the sound. It’s been so long since you last heard it. 

Conversation drifts after that. You tell him about the latest Spider-Man arc you’re reading, he inserts his own opinions, and it’s lovely. You haven’t had Jonathan like this in months, all to yourself, his smile aligned with yours. Sober, steady. 

The phone call with Jonathan reminds you of all the good that is still yet to come. 

College decision letters arrive next week. Your best friend might be visiting for spring break. Your boyfriend has planned a picnic for your anniversary tomorrow. You have your first meeting with Ms. Kelly the following day. It was your idea, figuring it was only fair that you see her since Max has agreed to keep going. 

And Joyce made you promise that you’d live your own life. You’re trying to get better, you really are. 

It just takes time. 

-

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[baxndaid]

sun x reader

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ! in celebration of my bf of 5 years cheating and then breaking up with me, i am posting best boy

+ oddly enough for a sun themed kids animatronic, hes a little cray cray 😞

+ like a lot cray cray, endearing, sometimes, but he can be a little annoying <;/3

+ hes so dramatic with it to like i know his ass wouldve BODIED drama class if he ever went to school

+ thank god he doesnt btw he would go insane from all the mess and the (gasps in terror) teenagers

+ hug and pamper him in front of the kids and he'll playfully show off a bit, kinda like a child whos mother just bought him the newest trendy toy and hes now lowkey shoving it in everyone elses faces

+ kisses are fine, just not on the lips when the kids are around (cooties)

+ he can and WILL fake faint whenever you kiss him though

+ like, Juliet style faint, one hand on his chest and the other on his forehead, accompanied by a pathetic whine as he falls to the floor

+ yea back to him being crazy yeah hes crazy !!!!! #quirky

+ even if u mention the words night, dark, moon, he'll go into a damn frenzy

+ he'll tug on his rays, screech a little, hold you by the shoulders and shake you a little bit, begging you not to let the other him out

+ it doesnt take much to get his mind off of it, just play a game with him, reassure him and hes good to go

+ though he'll keep turning towards the light switch just in case youve magically cloned yourself and snuck away to turn the lights off

+ for the most part he trusts you (kinda)

+ AND HIS VOICE LFMAOOO aww #godbless

+ it just goes up and down and up and down you swear theres no middle ground with him

+ whenever he's upset or begging you for something his voice goes so high youre pretty sure his voice-box goes insane and he kinda just starts squeaking

+ he rarely speaks in a low voice, only when disappointed, or when hes mumbling (talking shit) about one of his friends (night guard) who did nothing wrong (told sun he was ugly)

+ yea he can be a massive piss stain sometimes, not to you, but by god, to everyone else

+ though rare, hes snapped a few times, normally on other human employees

+ this could be for anything, they were talking to you and it made sun jealous, or they were mean to him or you, made a kid cry, you name it -- but there needs to be a reason, he'd never dislike/hate anybody just for funsies

+ but once again, it doesnt take much to get him to calm down

"sunny, enough of that now,"

"oh!!! sooo sorry, sunshine! never again!"

+ (it will happen again)

+ while i dont think sun is incapable of being serious, i think itll be super duper rare, like if you bring up something serious, he'll (try to) be as serious as he can

+ he might try to find some light in the topic though, thats kinda his thing <3 crack a shit joke or two while moon watches, or listens rather, in complete horror

+ despite all of his strange quirks, you love him, and he loves you, his little sunshine

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[ridiasfangirlings]

i think by the time u answer this itll be close to/maybe later but happy birthdayy

yata having to do practical work for scepter 4 as an exchange thing and fushimi is forbidden to provoke a fight so he follows him around giving "constructive criticism"

Thank you for the late/early birthday wish (is my backlog that bad ;; Sorry for the long waits everyone). Imagine this like post-ROK, Munakata gets the genius idea that wouldn’t it be nice if the Red and Blue clans switched some members for a week, in order to ‘better understand each other and facilitate improved teamwork.’ Kusanagi is hesitant about this but some of the Homra alphabet have been extra rowdy lately and he has to admit the idea of having some of the more mature S4 members around to help him out is tempting. As it happens while Kusanagi is considering the request Yata accidentally scuffs the bar counter while trying to show off a skateboard trick for Anna inside the bar, and guess who just got himself a vacation at S4 for a week. 

Yata is not happy at being forced to work for the stupid stuffy Blues for a week but Kusanagi tells him it’ll be good for him, and is firm that Yata had better not cause trouble. Yata’s all it’s not my fault if those guys provoke me and Anna comes over and holds his hand, saying she knows Misaki will be helpful. Now that he has Anna’s expectations over him Yata can’t act up, Kusanagi’s warning doesn’t have half the power of Anna’s simple trust and Yata has to live up to it. He still adds that if Fushimi starts something he’s not responsible though, luckily Awashima was also aware of this and has made it clear to Fushimi that he’s expected to behave and not get into fights with Yata Misaki. Fushimi clicks his tongue and says if Misaki starts it and Awashima just gives him a cold look as she’s like there will be no fighting.

So Yata gets to S4 and Awashima immediately starts assigning him tasks, imagine poor Yata’s head spinning as she gives him paperwork to copy and take this book back to the library and please deliver this message. Seeing that Yata is overwhelmed she decides someone will need to help him and of course Fushimi happens to be right there. Yata thinks he’s saved until Fushimi gives this big shit-eating grin and says he will be happy to observe Misaki, to be sure that Yata does everything right. Yata’s all the fuck you’re just observing, help me, and Fushimi’s all tsk tsk Misaki this exchange is supposed to show you how things are at S4, if I help you won’t learn anything. Yata grumbles a curse under his breath and picks up the enormous stack of documents while Fushimi follows easily after him, telling him not to bend the papers. 

Somehow despite presumably having his own work to do Fushimi finds time to follow Yata around for the rest of the day, claiming he is ‘supervising an untrustworthy newbie.’ Yata’s all supervising my ass (well Fushimi’s probably doing that too), you’re just bothering me. Fushimi says he wouldn’t dream of it, he’s giving Yata valuable advice. Yata’s like you’ve just been nitpicking me all this time, Fushimi denies it and says he’s helping Yata become a more worthwhile employee. Yata grumbles that he doesn’t intend to become a useless bureaucrat so he doesn’t need help, Fushimi points out that Yata just copied a stack of fifty papers upside down. Yata swears like you couldn’t have told me that before I did all this copying, Fushimi says learning from mistakes is an important part of teaching. 

Yata’s about to break his promise not to fight when suddenly Munakata just pops up between them, so pleased that Fushimi-kun is taking to teaching this way. Fushimi clicks his tongue and mutters ‘I guess,’ trying to get Munakata to leave, but Munakata feels this is a splendid teachable moment and invites them both into his office to discuss. Two hours later they finally manage to escape, both exhausted from the lecture and Yata’s like Saru your King is so weird. Fushimi’s like don’t think I don’t know that, Yata sighs and asks if Fushimi wants to go get lunch together. Fushimi pauses and then nods with a slight smile. Yata grins and is like all right, lead me to the cafeteria, and Fushimi can’t help but add that after lunch he’ll need to get back to supervising Yata.

[starsofang]

Omg I'm for once early for this fic.

Ok, so first soft Price is cute as he'll and I need him like water.

Second, I would give Johnny a fashion show any time, like I would for sure feel so validated by him.

And can we talk about Gaz for a second he and the reader talking is always so good and him sharing his past because he feels is similar to ours and that (posibly) we can trauma dump is one of my favourite things.

Also I need yo talk with my baby Ghost I know that he is feeling so guilty that the reader is in the same mess that he is with Graves and he is probably self flagellating and I just want to reassure him that is totally fine 😭

Oh, and before I forgot, you stole that kiss with Gaz, and I'm holding you accountable for it. The first kiss with him need stole be freaking awesome, the setting for it, the kiss, and everything must be perfect

(Please don't feel pressured, I'm just being my dramatic self. I love you so much and this fic too. I want to bookbind it in the future to put it in my bookshelf right beside the classic 💖)

MY CAPTAIN PRICE LOVERS RISE 🗣️ i love him so much you dont understand EVERYBODY WAS HATING ON HIM AND NOW HES FINALLY GETTING THE RECOGNITION HE DESERVES

i actually wrote reader trying on the dresses and having johnny be her eye but i cut it out IDK WHY I DIDDDD 😭 it didn’t feel in character for a pirate i regret it

i apologize in advance for gaz. made them kiss at first, then deleted it and was like nah, the slow burn’s gotta burn and it’s burnin. i am fully responsible for my actions

ghost will be up soon i SWEAR I FELT SO BAD HE WAS LEFT OUT THIS CHAPTER but so much was going on i didnt wanna give too much 😭 trust itll be coming soon

(i love you pls do and send me a picture ill cry)

[akaakeis]

oh nooooo i tripped and fell for u into ur ask box

eating ny ice cream rn ;; strawberry is such a weird flavour like if i had to choose and get one i would not get strawberry but if irs rhere at home im finishinf ALL of it

ALSO, DRAWING ON PEOPLE'S HANDS 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

anyways about the iwa smau!!! genuinely have no motivation rn #tweaks BUT i would like to say that the yn is shamelessly based off me like i have consumed acrylic paint on multiple occasions (today) (with ice cream)

ILYT!!!!! IM WRITING THIS RN SO I CANT RESPOND (CRIES)

lost a mark in my chem test today im tweaking

BUT THE FREAKY ENGLISH TEACHER SAID IM ON THE RIGHT TRACK AND DOING GOOD AND AN ATTENTIVE STUDENT AND LIKR????????? ERMMMM SHES INSANE BUT FHE ACADEMIC VALIDATION GOES SOOO HARD

also like lowkey icl i was hanging around ur blog again rn and thats why i decided to send an ask !! ur blog is so pretty rrrrr

I ALSO BASICALLY JUST PEAKED IN HS CUZ THE LIBRARIAN RECOGNISED ME AND GAVE ME A BOOK RECOMMENDATION AND LET ME TAKE IT EVEN THOUGH IT DIDN'T HAVE THE PROPER STUFF TO BE FILED AS BORROWED (like each book has a code and this one didnt and she STILL gave it to me) SO LIKE BASICALLY SHE TRUSTS ME BC IVE BEEN OVER HERE FOR LIKE A YESR AT LEADT TAKING A BOOK THEN COMING BACK 1-2 DAYS LATER CUZ I FINISHED IT LOLOLS

also about OUR iwa fic i was js thinking like,, fake dating this dumbass b word ushiwaka and hes like ?? why me ??? "ur names rhyme kind of" ?? wth ??

lowkey think im immune to anything thats in acrylic paint now bc i have Eaten So Much Of It

anyways the book is lowkey good i havent finished it YET but irs called the girl on the train and like woahhhhhh smth like that at our super conservative school is iNsane

i hope u feel better soon!!! if u dont ill fly over and idk. magic

i have a maths test tmr rjejsjskssk the topic is fun but I Don't Know what if i Fail

OSHIT I WAS SUPPOSED TO LOCK IN AND DO HW OOPS ERM HRU TELL ME AB UR DAY ETC ETC and also any sav x yaku tidbits youd like to drop <- forgot the ship name AND AND AND THE ANONS THINF IS SO REAK KMFG

ok byebye ily xx

ah thats a shame 😞😞 hope your knee or whatever u banged on the way in heals up well lina 😞

yum yum yum ice cream!! i hope ur enjoying it!! also thats so real i feel like strawberry ice cream is just an odd flavor... but true that i always eat the strawberry ice cream in the freezer just to spite my other roommate (with love!!!) LMAO

also real 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ i adore when people draw on me or let me draw on them it js makes me so happy <3

DONT FEEL PRESSURED TO WORK ON IT!! BE SPORADIC!! DO IT WHENEVER YOU GET IDEAS!!! WE WILL STICK AROUND TO READ WHENEVER U DECIDE TO WRITE

NOOO NOT THE CHEM TEST IM SORRY LINA :((( ITLL ALL WORK OUT THO

NOT THE ENGLISH TEACHER. IM SORRY SHES MY OPP FROM WHAT IVE HEARD ABOUT HER SHES FREAKY I FEAR. BUT FOR THE ACADEMIC VALIDATION I SUPPOSE I GET IT...

HELP i didnt ever realize how much time you spent on my blog like genuinely 😭 BUT THANK YOU SM!! im super proud of this theme even tho its not the most intricate <3

WOOOW THE LIBRARIAN RECOGNIZED YOU AND TRUSTED YOU W AN UNFILED BOOK??? i aspire to be you but i never step foot into my school library i much prefer my public library... there's sm more books that i read there!!! BUT THATS GENUINELY SO COOL WTF

bro that fic will genuinely be so funny 😭 like the quote we were yapping ab earlier "ushijima?? the hell?? you don't even go to the same school as him?? 😨" iwa would be more confused than anything at first AND I THINK THATS HILARIOUS!! and pls ushijima just AGREEING hes a closeted himbo i swear i swear i swear

alina im genuinely concerned over the fact that you CONSUME acrylic paint? but whatever? i guess? please dont eat too much that's definitely not meant to be consumed 🧍‍♀️

im gonna add that book to my tbr list!! i read the synopsis and it sounds pretty good tbh

THANK YOU!! my roomie is taking care of me so i'll probably be fine within the next few days 🙂‍↕️

AND GOOD LUCK!! im sure you'll do amazing dont even play w me rn alina YOU WILL DO SO SO SO WELL YOU LITTLE MATH NERD (affectionate)

OH YEAH GO DO HOMEWORK WTF 😭 IM GOOD! I FEEL BETTER TODAY <3 IVE BEEN IN BED SINCE I WOKE UP SO THERE ISNT MUCH TO TELL YOU ABOUT BUT UHHHH LAST NIGHT I WATCHED HOWLS MOVING CASTLE WITH MY ROOMMATE!! SAV X YAKU IS SAVORI!!! COURTESY OF BAKERY ANON MY LOVE 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ UMM I DONT HAVE TIDBITS RN BUT ILL DM YOU WITH RANDOM ONES SOMETIME DURING THE DAY TRUST!!

bye bye!! ily ily <3

[toindeedbe-agod]

ill get into real posting in a sec i need to deliver new hcs for the modern au tho 🙏

neil

on the academic team at welton. he plays jv and is not great at it but damn does he try

spiritual connection to jeff buckley. the other poets are only mostly worried esp since he doesnt know how to swim

fucks around with his schedule so hard he ends up taking keatings three times in one year on top of also being his ta

has never climbed a tree ever

knows how to tie his shoes like, in theory

major gleek. dragged todd into it

absolutely cannot cannot cannot drive. do not trust him with it. he can get himself to school and back and only just barely.

considers himself Artsy and Pretentious. listens to dua lipa

last true high school shakespearian scholar

todd

holder of the groups dab pen 🙏

has a cat that charlie swears up and down looks like tom cruise. no one else sees it.

listens to midwest emo

insomniac.

watches the princess bride once a week

favorite author is ray bradbury

only one in the friend group who likes the great gatsby and it genuinely pains him to this day the extent he believes the others are misunderstanding it

secret lana del ray listener

unfortunate addiction to toaster strudels. school supplies $20 new books $70 toaster strudels $898759 gifts for friends $30 someone whos good at budgeting please help

charlie

#1 shenanigans getter-up-to. a real ne'er-do-well.

will do anything if he thinks itll be fun enough. starring in the school play w neil? sure. breaking into the local middle school? absolutely. helping film a music video for one of pitts' fave bands at 8pm cause hes the only one w a video camera? whatever dude just give him a heads up to put pants on

probably genderfluid but he has a job so he doesnt really care (<jobless loser tho)

hes actually native and not racist. trust im native and im literally him

wears the same busted ass pair of doc martens every day. theres a hole in both of them. theyre covered in what is either red paint or blood. the laces are in complete disrepair. theyre so so scuffed. he loves them

#gorewhore. #horrorfanatic. #fangs. absolutely loves horror movies, the freakier the better

takes naps like its his fucking job.

meeks

takes ap classes for fun. everyone hates him for this

has a deeply held suspicion that charlie may have actually boned his mom but it hurts too much to think about

tried so hard to be a twitch streamer when he was 12 and charlie will never let it go

tries every year to show charlie either 1. lord of the rings 2. dune and it never ever works.

made a tiktok recipe for a friend hang out once (1) and now he has to make it every time for threat of tears from charlie and neil

babysits for extra cash. teaches the kids how to swear

had braces from 7th grade to 11th grade

isnt allowed to eat white bread

gets sunburns in the shade

pitts

failed econ 🙏

has seen all the human centipede movies. thinks the first one is great but the second one is just awful.

plays crazy amounts of dating sims and visual novels and shit. steam account is literally radioactive

gets yelled at for wearing airpods in class once a day

only one brave enough to eat school lunch

secret soft spot for romcoms. dude just wants love

massive crush on natasha richardson he misses her every day

likes the star wars sequels. even ep 9.

keeps a shaved head (after he accidentally set his hair on fire)

totaled his car. was still bought a new one

has walked into hotels just to abuse the complimentary waffle machines

knox

also failed econ 😔

scared of the rock bottom episode of spongebob

big spongebob watcher in general

also a big stranger things watcher

lowkey if its a basic tv show hes watchin it. knox is helping to bring down the average media literacy rate of the world singlehandedly

obsessed with romcoms. especially terrible ones.

kiss me by sixpence none the richer can make him cry if you time it just right

#loverboy

would lose his head were it not attached to his body

certainly the prettiest crayon in the box, if not the sharpest

probably dyslexic but we'll never know

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for choosing my country over my bf?

Okay so let me explain. My friend (B) (M27), his friend (C) ( M25), and I (N) (M28) all used to be all part of this magic nationalist school where in exchange for being able to learn how to utilize magic, we all had to swear allegiance to our country. During this time, both B and I were close and we shared many idealistic principles and hated the corruption and limited accessibility in our government. We hd a dream to change things.

Anyways, when we graduated the academy, C and I both joined the military where we fought in a war, and B went into politics. C and I grew closer but B and I didn’t see each other for many months which I think caused us to become distant, which I guess was why I didn’t learn about his attempt to overthrow the government ( and right after we fought a literal war and literally could NOT have survived a coup!!!) until after both C and I returned from the battlefield.

B was sentenced to be executed for his treason ( he wanted to make the country more accessible to minorities which i get!! but why did he decide to try and launch a coup and himself in charge to do it????) and literally only C and I were willing to try and save him. It took us literal weeks of nonstop bargaining but eventually we were able to make an alliance with W, L, E, and R ( unimportant) and get B out of a death sentence and into house arrest- where he was safe.

But when I went to talk to him after his release he didn’t thank me. He was really angry and told me he’d rather have become a martyr than a prisoner- needless to say it got into the point where we both got i to a fight- i was so angry of him for betraying us and our country, he thought i wasnt a good enough friend and thought i shouldve somehow continued his duty of overthrowing the government even though i couldnt do that when a. his life was on thr line and b. we just??? had a war???

anyways so a few months ago B escaped house arrest again and now joined with C to make an army and lead a secrssionist movement to pull away from our country and the leader of our country wants me to stop him and i dont know if i can or want to??

our country is still weak, i dont want a secessionist movement to succeed if itll pull our country apart and make us weaker, i dont trust my friend to be a good leader, but i still love my friends and dont want to go against them, and i dont want to abandon my duty to my country. ill have to lead my army against them but i think most of their army is civilians…???

[chiffaust]

hello its me 🪄 !! happy holidays to you !!

ive been sick so 😓😓 yknow but ive been getting better !! but i never usually do any christmas celebrations beyond just wow it is christmas on this day. havent done anything for christmas this year 🐺🥀

have you done your pulls on enstars yet ? i got a souma card on music and it felt like a christmas miracle considering his fs never came home on en, despite doing ~120 pulls 😓

also, i got keito fs, rinne initial and an adonis on basic !! basic pulls are always nicer when you havent played in a while .. i also got many vagabond soumas hehe now i need kuro (his suit card did Not come home) and all of akatsuki will have come home in time for christmas !!

speaking of keito fs, keitonation has dodged a bullet this time around, we can keep going strong (although mika is very cute too !!)

ALSO no pressure ofcofc but you mentioned a keito smau in your drafts and if you ever decided to continue it i would be your biggest supporter (again no pressure though, i just think its cute hehe)

any akatsuki fics of yours as a fellow akatsukip honestly i will get down on one knee.. right now.. (speaking of, mistletoe keito was soo.. soooo.. Yeah i love him)

wwah that was long i did not mean for it to be hnedb i hope you enjoyed my ramblings though, i hope you have a good day today whether you celebrate or not !!

- 🪄 <3

hi 🪄 how r you iys 7 am for me and i havent slept ywt ❤ MERRY CHRITSTMAS to you!

FIRST OF ALL... im so jealojs that ylu got keito fs i swear that card has been avoiding me like a plague ever since it was announced in march. i literally pulled ~120 times on him and he didnt came home... its almost 2023 and i still havent gotten him

my pulls on the free 20 pulls are shitty pls dont ask 😔 i got 1 dupe of hiiro prince card. i mean its strong now but not strong enough to be in my team... but luckily i have at least 1 copy of akatsuki gacha cards. guess who comes home the most :3

surprisingly its keito who comes home the most and souma who hates me 😰

and you re correct abt tht keito nation really did dodged a bullet. my friend were literally saying that it was gonna be keito and i am broke so like yknlw 😭😭😭 thnkfully it isnt keito fs2! i think that means hes having mercy on us keitops wjo have no money and is telling us to keep grinding but lucky me i have exams :p

ans youo knowww i am an akatsukip 🥺 (a bit biased on keito) i will write for them using all of my brain cells especially keito :33

and im not talkimg aboht tht keito smau. itll probably take months of drafting for me to officially announce it as a real smau im doing. i dont really like trust the process idea very much when it comes to making a series so like... i wont say it'll be released soon since i wanna make a sensible story first instead of trustinf the process... idk why i like making my life difficult :p

i thi k i shohls go to sleel now. i hope you have enough sleep unlike me 🪄nonnie :3 merry christmas to you once again!!

[growling]

ep13 i just googled something and yeah that's the finale :3

oh so the hunting dogs have principles??? i thought they were just feral honestly lmao. thats good woohoo

maybe they're just batshit cause the agency are considered terrorists now and once their name gets cleared they're gonna start passionately making out with them instead and then fuck off for another several years

is teruko like a shapeshifter??

she can also shapeshift others it looks??? or is it just age......

oh so her ability allows her to control age :33

does this just mean she regularly beats the shit out of toddlers and the elderly cause if so that's funny as fuck and +1 point to teruko

SHE DOES LMAO

shut up about the waitress dazai you haven't brought anything into this anime aside from pain and misery. the closest you were ever to being remotely likeable was when you were a port mafia executive with over 300 confirmed kills performing the zipper move on your useless stooge and his shit creature everyday and even then i couldn't forgive you as a slight against akutagawa is punishable by death in my eyes anyway

"can such a thing even be called human" shut the fuck up dazai don't you dare call my beautiful son sigma a thing. he's trying his best ok

sigma voted for most competent cringefail

WHOOPSIE TERUKO UHH. HANG IN THERE!!!! still on sigma's side though lmaoo

oh so she injured her ears now?? also if that stopped the sound waves from reaching her brain and exploding it or whatever. then how does she hear sigma rn. are these sounds like differenr or what or do i not get something about anatomy and shit idk

"the hunting dogs superhuman physical prowess is the result of surgery carried out by doctors with special abilities. but the inhuman nature of the surgeries made them such that, if we miss even one of the monthly follow-up surgeries, our flesh rots and we die" are you. okay

both sigma and teruko should be allowed to do whatever they want tbh. let them make peace and hold hands and skip thru the meadow together

ATSUSHI TO THE RESCUE??? LET'S GO ATSUSHI GET YOUR FURRY BROTHER

ooooh so sigma stabbed taneda...... leave him aloneee he's just a little guyy. he's just a little guyyy

:((

oh hi priest guy whose name i forgot

ok now atsushi and sigma listen to me young men join forces to beat the shit out of him there is nothing stronger in this world than two therians fighting paw in paw-

itll be good bonding experience i swear

sigma go join the sskk polycule. this is an order

nooooo bbg don't kill yourself :((((((

not all is lost ango because uhhh. uh. i said so :)))) and my word is absolute

THE AMONG US FILE

ooooooooh tachihara's gonna know now?? can we trust the boy????? he will never be a man to me. unless he atones for his sins against yosano

oh he won't :(((( so called free-thinkers when

oooooh or maybe he is a free-thinker after all...... he broke out of the

not all is lost because i said so :))))

OH HIROTSU AND GIN ARE ALIVE!!!!!!!!!! DO THE EPIC DANCE EVERYBODY

oooooooh he didn't want to really kill them <3333 tachihara who do you prefer. the hunting dogs (ew) or the wholesome mafia momence (yippiee)

fyodor and dazai arguing about god

i saw nikolai's face for a moment there...... buddy bestie pal i miss you dudeeee

wholesome mafia momence <3 we should forgive them all the mafia is too wholesome to be evil. who the fuck are yosano and kyouka

ooooooooh AND he spared yosano <3 tachihara gaining a lot of focus this season i'm not complaining

OOOOH the loophole...... tachihara is not the law enforcement/investigative body because he's a member of the port mafia through and through thus he won't dismiss it <33

let's go tachihara

NIKOLAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE'S ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE'S HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NIKOLAI BUDDY I MISSED YOU AND YOUR SHIT EATING GRIN

and that's it for s4 smash that like and subscribe for mo

anyway bsd season 4 let's go gamers

ep1:

still waiting for chuuya to get unbooked. notify me immediately once he gets unbooked i can't take thsi

oh hi fukuzawa. put his wrinkles back on ffs

fukuzawa and ranpo flashback episode pretty please??

LET'S GOOOOOOO

oh oda's the assassin?? killer baby

ranpo voice heard my waters are cropped

i do not accept ranpo being the same age/older than oda. i will not accept this. let oda be like. 30+ or whatever

whys ranpo giving me ouma vibes in this outfit

ranpo don't care sunglasses emoji

oh yeah i had the feeling the secretary was the killer from the moment ranpo walked in lmao. now danganronpa execute him

coolest kid you've never met

good for ranpo for getting kicked out of the police after exposing all their shit as a teenager

snitch ranpo we love to see it it's okay if he does it he can do whatever he wants forever he's never been wrong in his life

orphan lore

oh he's 14 now. baby

"well done for today-" "that's it?? you're talking to a 14-year old who lost his parents his job and his future. thats all you got??" yes ranpo go fight for that sympathy points make that old man cry and shake from guilt

he's so sillyyy......... "*2 seconds after walking out the door* help me mister bodyguard i don't have work or a place to stay im going to die" yes ranpo go fight for that house and income pluck that old man out of everything he got (morally correct). i love how it literally works and fukuzawa says yeagh sure every time

with every single minute ranpo is on screen. i swear. with every single damn frame of that guy he gets more and more npd. like. that is a narcissist. you wrote a narcissist and made him the coolest most swag guy in the anime. and that's not even mentioning that guy's massive fucking autism and adhd

is this gonna be like rain code chapter 2 where where-

fukuzawa sweating voice damn that kids a genius and also deeply deeply unnerving why is he so op in the smarts stats what happened in his early childhood to ruin him forever like this

and ranpo's utterly clueless to that too he just thinks everybody else is an idiot or just acting real weird and hiding what they know for some reason.

"ive only just met you so i don't know much but- *lists his entire fucking biography*"

LEAVE THE BOY ALONE YOU KNOCKED HIM OVER FUKUZAWA YOU MONSTER!!!!!!!!!!! YOU WILL ALWAYS BE A CRUEL AND WICKED PERSON YOU WILL DESTROY EVERYTHING YOU TOUCH YOU HAVE NOT AND NEVER WILL CHANGE IN A MEANINGFUL WAY. CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'D DO THIS...............

oh ok he apologized. but can he ever truly be forgiven........

the hat :)

new sonboy acquired

[iwaasfairy]

atsuko grooming a lil sister to overpower and cum into tho.. 👁👁

such a tiny lil bby he helped raise. watches her grow up pretty. teaches her to kiss nii-chan on the lips "hello/good morning" and "goodbye/goodnight". picks her up from school and teaches her how to suckle on his dick while he drives, petting her hair gently. comes back from his part-time job spent and pulls her onto the bed to sit on his face, sometimes gets frustrated when he fails something he studied for and lil sisters with their face buried in a mattress and lil cunnies full and leaky help relieve stress. naughty girls that get cat-called get rim-jobs in the alleyway. sit on nii-chan's lap after you pull his zipper down; dont worry about it, the tablecloth is long enough; and, besides, uncle is the owner of this resteraunt, he wont kick us out no matter what we do, just trust your nii-chan. maybe we should fuck on that playgroun after dark; you were so cute playing on it when you were little and nii-chan thinks the neighborhood assholes need to hear that you're taken anyway. but, of course, nii-chan would never forget to dress her in pretty things that give him easy access to pull things down or pull things to the side; he always picks her outfits of the day, like every big brother should. you never know when the desire to bend her over will stir

sometimes, when he swears he plays FPS better with her too tony mouth or cunny squishing and squeezing his cock; his friends used to ask about the muffled moans and wet clicks theyd overhear on discord after their wins. but atsuko sends them videos of you now, with snapchat filters of you with panda ears and heart crowns and voice-pitched moans; it was a team win afterall. they should celebrate as a group, and youve been molded into such a pretty prize by now. nii-chan thinks youre ready to meet some of his online friends soon, you should come with them to this con a few towns over. itll only be for three days, but they all chipped in to get a really nice hotel room that doesnt ask questions or answer to noise complaints. you could cosplay even, though they each already bought you something to wear. its not too revealing, you brat, it makes sense if you know her lore in the game. now lay down on your stomach, atsuko-nii needs to prep your dirty hole to hold her tail and if you protest-- well atsuko-nii could always make the insertion hurt. besides, itd hurt so much more if you met his friends with no tail to have prepped you; not only would his friends feelings be hurt, but hes seen his friends send videos in response to his celebratory ones, he knows how much bigger they are than this lil tail plug. think of it like being the group mascot, imouto. everybody loves the group mascot, especially nii-chan the leader. good girl! youve really grown up, havent you? i think you should thank nii-chan for helping to raise you so well

(just maybe dont tell atsuko-nii about the things tooru (and maybe mommy will join in too in what tooru or atsuko) does to you sometimes. daddy needs you too. and atsuko-nii would just get jealous, he never learned to share)

i stared at this for so fuckincsguf long oml i really like this idea and you wrote it so well bYEGEtf thank you for this 💝💕💞

[blisterinballista]

👂

I am of a listening

heavy pacing echoes behind the locked door. looks like boss is on a call. again. you can't derive who's on the other end of the line, but baltimore seems more talkative than he is with regular clients.

a friend, perhaps.

> " ... no, no, he ain- hes not- not yet... i... idunno. i mean- "

> " • • • "

> " -yea, yeah, i do, i... really do. wouldn put up with em if i didn like him, heh... "

> " ... uh. "

> " • • • "

> " i-its, jus... i, feel, like... its neva really, around, yknow? ... like- okay, the, parties, an, yknow, every now an then we... yea. but, its like none o that even matters as soon as somethin, serious comes up. ya feel? "

> " • • • "

> " i mean like- i tell em, all the time, to call me if they need somethin- anythin. an he neva does. then theres me with- "

... a sigh. thumb and index claws come up to smooth out his brow.

> " i.. jus wanna talk to them. no strings attached. "

> " • • ? "

> " ... you an i both kno why ion do tha.. an is not like i can jus, bring tha up outa the blue... ugh. hes so pushy sometimes i swear. you cant not eva tell me shit an then expect me to explain why im havin a meltdown-- IN the middle OF havin a meltdown--! "

> " • • • "

> " ... im alright. is cool, everythin fine. "

> " ... maybe im the problem. "

> " • • • "

> " i mean... my issues ain, exactly... his fault... "

> " • • ?- "

> " --NO, NO I CANT. ... not yet. or ever. i don know anymore... ill jus, fake it till i make it, i guess. "

> " • • • "

> " -yeah, ill let cha kno if he hurts me.. an no, ya don get ta snap his neck. cuz he don got one. "

> " • • • "

> " oh, the otha thing? yea i showed em. befo you ask, yea, i trust em with it... as scary as that might be... maybe, itll like, iunno. make it feel safe trustin me too. "

> " • • • "

> " i ain... too, worried.. after all, he saw wha i do to traitorous dogs. dante may be dumb, but it ain stupid. bsides, i can tell hes good at his core. he wouldn sell me out to that windbag... im sure ovit. "

> " ... alrigh alrigh, i should shut up now befo i spiral again. whaddabout you an, your, uh...- "

> " • • • "

> " ... my god. yous actually insane. tell me everythi- "

just as blitz begins laughing, his voice is getting away from the door, deeper into the room. sounds like that other person has some good hot tea of their own, eh.

[jjkyaoi]

this is quite long (1100 words or so) and i wanted to write more than this 😔😔

so you know those like, stories of pta parents nshit??? imagine that but with sbi yeah trust me on this trUST ME-

and so in this au i guess, puffy is school therapist and sam is like a teacher.

puffy and sam are like, mega best friends that have known eachother since highschool or sumn yeah??

anyways, tommy has been getting into fights and arguments with his classmates for whatever reason, and the staff have called dadza to come to meetings and shit but its always tommys oldest brother wilbur (im not projecting being the oldest siblling in my family and being forced to mature quicker wdym-)

sam, being tommys favorite teacher ofc, decides "mmm, yeah hes mine now," and we get some nice dad!sam bc its waht tommy and us deserve.

but tommy is still getting into these fights so they send him to the school therapist and she takes one look at this scrawny, scuffed up kid, with holes in his shirt and dirt on his pants and ALSO decides "thats my son now,"

of course sam and puffy find out that tommy doesnt have the best home life but "its okay, he doesnt hit us so its not abuse :)" and theyre like "mmMMMmn no tommy thats still abuse sorta" bc having a father that doesnt pay attention to any of his kids is abuse im pretty sure. and they decide together that theyre gonna try to get the rights of tommy, or something to ATLEAST bee a semi-gaurdigan bc they love him now and thats their son >:(

and somehow they manage it, they get shared gaurdianship over tommy with dadza. i dont know how bc i am but a humble person in need of dad!sam and momma!puffy

BUT they do, and now whenever tommy gets into fights, its one of them (or both) that comes to the meeting. the other staff dont question it bc they know how intimidating sam and puffy are about their "children" (its mainly just kids that they pick up and are like "ur my child now" but nO ONE HAS TO KNOW THAT)

sam and puffy both start asking about these fights and how they can helpn all, partly bc its their job but mainly bc they love him as their own. n slowly but surely they help tommy not get into fights. most of the time its the other student who starts it bc they know that tommy is easliy angered but there are times when tommy starts it (mainly for good reason tho and they just dont have the heart to punish him, just softly scorn)

one day tho, tommy gets into a fight,and the staff start the whole dance of calling dadza, him not picking up and just letting puffy or sam go in place.

EXCEPT he pickes up this time, and it desolves into fucking CHAOS in the office. like, the whole office knows that tommy is sam and puffys kid and so they gather around this one front desk worker who is the unfortunate soul who has to talk to him and are like "is that him??? im gonna wring his neck when i see him" cuz the office has seen tommy in there one too many times with a black or bloody nose or both.

and so they tell him that his son has been in a fight and they need him to come to a meeting for it, and dadzas like "yeah sure, what do i need to be there?" and they tell him, but they realize they have a problem on their hands, bc philza NEVER fucking picks up - and by never, u mean this is probably the first time they heard his voice-and bc philzanever picksuo they usually just tell puffy or sam that they have a meeting wayyy before they call philza bc the outcome is always the sam.

so they call up both sam and puffy with major reluctance bc they have a feeling they know whatll happen. n theyre like "hey, uh, so you dont need to attent that meeting for tommy today. his dad is coming in-" "oh, HELL NO, that fucker is NOT going in place of us. expect to see me AND sam at the meeting today" sam is very similar except with more swears which is a tab bit surprising but whatever yknow?

and so the meeting rolls around and tommy is sitting inbetween sam and puffy but notices theres another chair to the right of sam and fucking dadza walks in, and tommy feels his heart stop he feels puffy holding his left hand and tryring to get him to take deep breaths but his anxiety is so overwhelming and he hasnt seen his dad in almost 3 months and whyisheherewhyishehere-

so tommy is having, like a silent anxiety attack as we all do. and sam i scowling at philza and hes like borderline growling and baring his teeth at him lol

philza takes a seat next to sam with reluctance and tries to look around him to see tommy but sams like "nuh uh, fucker. leave my son alone." and philzas like " 'my son?!' " before the meeting starts

(also the other family who tommy got into a fight with is all watching this go down bc theyre highkey confused bc "sam and puffy arent tommyy parents???" bc this is definitely not the first time tommy has punched their kid)

during the meeting tommy comes down off his high of his anxiety attack and is really exhausted, and whenever hes asked a question he whispers it puffy and she says it for him. philza doesnt get a word in and before he knows it the meeting is over.

as they stand up, he tries to get tommy to come with him to go home but sam is faster than him and he goes "hey tommy! lets go and do some crosswords in my classroom yeah?" and tommy is for it, one bc he loves doing crosswords and itll help him calm down a bit more, and two he does n o t want to speak to philza.

n they leave and philza is left with puffy and the other staff member who are minding their fucking business bc heaven knows they dont want to cross puffy whens she in a rage. and they all expect like an outburst of anger and yelling, and them having to pull her away so she doesnt murder him where he stands but no, its not that at all.

philza turns to puffy to say something but he stops dead in his tracks when he sees the way shes looking at him, theres an inferno of rage building up inside her, but she just goes,"he's not your son." and leaves.

*holds this gently* thank you for the,,,.. thank you for the food i’m. i’m soft now. :( anyway haha fuck c!phil he can go suck a cows ass amiright!!!! :DD