#jonathan sure is in a lot of stuff..........

[wojtekaneko]

That's how it went

[vickyvicarious]

I looked out over the beautiful expanse, bathed in soft yellow moonlight till it was almost as light as day. In the soft light the distant hills became melted, and the shadows in the valleys and gorges of velvety blackness. The mere beauty seemed to cheer me; there was peace and comfort in every breath I drew.

Jonathan Harker: "Yes I am a prisoner. Yes, my legal services are complete now. Yes, I just wrote a letter that I am fine and staying over, and therefore can I be disposed of any day now. Yes, my sleep schedule is screwed because I stay up all night with my captor and play nice.

But this shan't stop me from waxing poetic about the velvet darkness over nature and the soft moonlight!"

Jonathan: I Am Going To Seize This Moment Of Peace And Beauty And You Can't Stop Me

Dracula: wanna bet? *lizards*

[username0204]

"Will is such a whiny little helpless scared boy"

Excuse me what?? Are we talking about the same Will Byers? I really have no idea where those opinions come from... someone's ass I suppose.

There's a lot of talk about Will being traumatized and all but can we please acknowledge that he is also one of the strongest characters in ST? Tbh he's kinda badass if you think about it... but just more of a quiet, resilient, selfless kind of badass...

Ok, let's recap:

01. Will at age 11 beggs his mom to let him see Poltergeist. Fucking Poltergeist. I know people who couldn’t sit through Coraline at that age… This kid is a horror and punk rock fan, that doesn't really scream "snowflake" to me

02. After being followed to his house by an unknown creature at age 12 he doesn't hide under the bed... noooo, he goes outside and grabbs a shotgun - a fucking shotgun! I'd like to remind you, that the only other kid to hold any kind of weapon in S1 is Lucas and it's a slingshot... In S2 Max holds a bat and Mike holds... well... a lamp and a goblet xd To this day I believe he's the only one to hold a gun among the "kids" generation and probably is the only one to know how to use it (though I wouldn't put it past Max tbh)... and it was S1

03. Kid somehow survives a week in another dimension that killed multiple adults during that time... not only that - he manages to figure out a way to communicate (smart kid) and one of his first messages to his mom is not "HELP", it's "RUN" - his priority is to save her, not for her to save him

04. After waking up in the hospital, the very first thing he does is ask Jonathan about a bandage on his hand as if he didn't just almost die... "Don't mind me! There's a cut on your hand, are you sure you're ok??"

05. Will at age 12 starts seeing things that brings him back to the other dimension that tried to kill him but this time there's another creature following him... Then gets possessed by that creature at age 13 and in both instances decides at first not to tell anyone about any of it bc he doesn't want others to worry about him or treat him like he can't take care of himself

06. While being possessed at age 13 he manages to find a way to communicate (again) with a fucking morse code (smartass) and apparently he's the only one aside from Hopper to know it by heart (while being possessed, mind you). And what does he communicate you might ask? Well, he figures out a way to kill the thing that attacks the town knowing full well that it will probably kill him too. Does he say it might kill him though? Nope. He'd rather get himself killed than put his loved ones in danger. Gladly Mike was able to figure it out...

07. After all of that at age 14 he finally can live a "normal" life while still feeling the presence of that thing that possessed him and took control over his body... and he is so fucking patient and tries to keep a level head with his friends that straight on dismiss him and he is able to take so much shit from them (especially from his best friend he is in love with) before he finally snaps. Then again he sweeps that under the rug and doesn't hold a grudge bc there are more important stuff happening which he can feel thanks to that lovely bluetooth connection he has with his former supernatural abuser

08. At age 15 (shortly after his birthday that everyone forgot) he buries his feelings again for (what he believes is) the greater good. He "sells" his own love and a painting that he poured his heart into to repair his best friend's relationship and to cure his insecurities. After that he encourages said friend to make a grand confession at his own expense bc he believes that it might save the day.

And after all of this you want to tell me that he's whiny, weak and helpless? Did we watch the same show?

Funny thing about Will being "saved" in both S1 and S2 is that it didn't come from Will... he didn't ask to be saved. It was Joyce's and Mike's love that saved him, that brought everyone else on board. It was all those people who cared and went out of their way to save him even if he didn't care to be saved.

That is not a testament of Will needing to be saved, it's the testament of how much he means to all of those people for them to love him this much to save him.

He is not weak, he is loved. <3

*I know he goes through so much more shit but I really tried to focus on him handling situations and how it shows his character and not on the stuff that happens to him that makes us feel bad for him if that makes sense xd

[hairmetal666]

Steve has done interviews before. Like, a lot of interviews. YouTube, podcasts, print, TV stuff. Not as a brag, or anything, just. He's been an influencer for a long time, for better or worse, and it's part of the deal.

Usually, he's comfortable in front of the camera. Usually, he's poised and well-spoken. But today, this time, sweat pools under his arms and beads along his hairline, the lights beating down on him in a harsh glare.

"Steve Harrington," Murray Bauman crosses his legs, smiles big for the cameras. "It's been a while."

He smiles too, tries to seem like he's not about to have a panic attack. "I've been a little busy."

Murray laughs and it's then that Steve understands how screwed he really is. Murray's show, it's all glitz and glamour on the surface; mixed drinks and hijinks until the celebrity guests lose their inhibitions, admitting things they probably wanted to keep secret.

It's just that, before, Steve didn't have any salacious rumors to worry about, and now--

"You've had a rough year, Steve, yeah?"

"Not my best, for sure." He leans back, tries to seem calm, unbothered.

"I was sorry to hear about your divorce. I think that announcement really took a lot of people by surprise."

His hands clench, but he manages not to shift or bounce his leg. "Thanks for, uh. Yeah. We were also sorry it didn't work out."

Murray nods, face full of sympathy. "You and Nancy, you'd been together since high school? That's almost--what? 15 years?"

"It's--" he clears his throat. "About that long." Steve takes a sip of the drink next to him, an apple martini that's both too sweet and too strong.

"Am I right to assume that you didn't see it coming?"

And isn't that a question? Sure, now in hindsight, he can see the fractures that lead to the end, but six months ago did he--it's all so--what if all along--

"All marriages have rough patches," is what he says. "We just couldn't come out of ours as a couple."

"Do you know what I've found really remarkable about this phase of your life? The content and tone of your videos in the midst of the maelstrom of rumors and gossip didn't change at all. 'Your kids' as you call them, are still as bright and vibrant as ever. You're laughing, dancing, cooking, having a great time."

"I needed that--that normalcy you know? And the kids, they're such an important part of my life, having them around helped."

"Including Nancy's brother, Mike?"

Steve laughs and it's not fake. "Totally including Mike. My relationship with Nancy has nothing to do with my relationship with him."

"He's kind of an antagonist--would you say?--in your videos, though."

"We have conflict sometimes, but it's never serious. We know how to play it up for laughs."

"So, nothing's changed between you?"

"Not at all."

"The cheating rumors." Murray's smile is soft, but all the air still leaves the room.

"What about them?" It's more combative than he means, but--

"Did Nancy cheat on you with Jonathan Byers?"

He swallows and it hurts. She did cheat, is the thing. It's not public information, still only speculation, but--

"You can't believe everything you read, Murray."

"So, she didn't cheat?" There's a glow to Murray's eyes that tells Steve he already knows the answer.

"Like, I said before, marriages are hard. We spent a lot of time apart because of our jobs. It took a toll."

"And she was traveling with Jonathan, yes? He's been her photographer for the past decade, from what I understand."

"They were co-workers, but we're all close. And those rumors didn't help our relationship, for sure. It's--not easy to hear that a bunch of people think your wife and close friend may be having an affair, that people 'ship' them. Even when it's not true, it creates--"

"Tension? Distrust?"

"Both, probably." He takes another drink as he nods. "After a while you do start to wonder if there's truth to it, and you're too ignorant or too--too trusting to see it."

"And it eroded the relationship."

"It certainly didn't help." He takes another drink.

"And how about your relationship with Jonathan's brother, Will. Has that been impacted?"

"Of course not. Never. Whatever happens between Nancy, Jonathan, and I, it has nothing to do with the kids. They know that.

"You talked about it."

"Yes. Extensively."

"I know there's often speculation on the relationship you have with them; if you're really close or it's all for the cameras."

"Murray." He leans forward. "We've talked about this before. I met Dustin through Mike, and the whole group followed. I've known them all since they were 8 years old. They're--I mean, not to be cliche, but they're my family." He sips the last bit of martini.

"And where does Eddie Munson fit into that family?"

The question shouldn't be a surprise, but he almost does a spit take, has to fight to keep it together.

"Eddie?"

"Yes." Murray's smile is chilling. "Your close friend Eddie Munson. Musician. Plays Dungeons and Dragons on YouTube. You made out with him in a music video. Ringing any bells?"

"I'm familiar with Eddie," his grin is rigid. "I don't know what that has to do with my marriage ending."

"Well, the rumors weren't all about Nancy, were they?"

"Eddie and I have--we became mutuals online years and years ago. I used one of his songs in a video and the kids are obsessed with his dnd stuff, so. We've become close."

"Friends?"

"Isn't that implied?"

"After that music video, I don't think so."

Steve rolls his eyes, lets the irritation show for the first time. "He asked me to be in his video. There's nothing scandalous about it."

"What's your relationship with Eddie right now?"

"Like I said, friends."

"Do you want it to be more than that?"

"Eddie's really important to me."

"Is that all?"

"Not really sure what you want me to say here, Murray."

"You were married to a woman for years, but now there are questions about your sexuality."

He grits his teeth. "My sexuality isn't anyone's business aside my own. People can say shit on Twitter all they want, that doesn't mean they know me. But--the end of my marriage--it definitely gave me the space for self-discovery, I guess? In a way I hadn't had before."

"And is Eddie a part of that self-discovery?"

"Yeah, as one of my closest friends, he is."

"Do you have feelings for him?"

"That's--that's not--I'm going through a divorce. My focus isn't on starting another relationship right now."

"You, famously, tattooed your initials on the inside of his thigh during an Instagram live. That's pretty intimate."

"We were just having a little fun."

"Huh. That seems like more than 'a little fun' to me. So, how's Eddie doing with the increased attention?"

It takes Steve a second to track the change of subject, mind still stuck on the tattoo, on how the ink had looked on Eddie's pale skin.

"It's hard." Steve eventually answers. "Of course he enjoys bringing his music and dnd to a wider audience, but the focus on his personal life is--it's a lot."

"Well, he should have thought about before letting you tattoo him for your 850,000 followers. Does he want a relationship with you?"

His throat is dry, burning, he wishes he had more martini. He wishes he'd never taken a sip. "You'd have to ask him. I'm just taking it day by day, you know? That's what I need right now."

"We're getting to the end of our time, but you know I have to ask. Your best friend, Robin Buckley, she very famously unfollowed both Nancy and Jonathan on all social media when news broke about your divorce. Can you tell us why she unfollowed them?"

"I have no control over Robin's accounts. I didn't even know she followed Jonathan ever, and she and Nancy have a relationship outside of me, you know? I can't say what happened between them."

"She's been in your videos with Eddie. She like him?"

"Very much. It's kind of annoying actually. They keep ganging up on me."

"Much to everyone's delight, I'm sure. So, what can we expect from the newly single Steve Harrington?"

"There are a couple things in the works, but only time will tell."

---

He walks through his front door an hour later, and Eddie's sitting on the couch, playing a soft melody on an acoustic guitar. He stops when he sees Steve, setting the guitar aside, and standing.

"How'd it go, baby?" He asks. His soft smile is so beautiful, Steve gets a lump in his throat.

"As expected." He crosses the space between them, lets Eddie pull him close.

"He ask about us?" Eddie's breath tickles his ear.

"Of course."

"And you--"

"I want--it should be just for us. We should be able to announce when we're ready. Not when Murray-fucking-Bauman asks."

Eddie kisses him, then, sweet and slow, making him lose his breath.

"Whenever you're ready, I'll be right by your side."

"You sure? All my mess--"

"Is mine too. Afraid you're stuck with me for the long haul, Steve Harrington."

[fancyfeathers]

In your yandere!Clark Kent with housewife reader you mentioned he wanted several children, and whenever I read anything with Clark marrying with Reader and having kids I always think Jon should be one of them (but usually authors just make it so Clark and Lois divorced and Reader is just the stepparent😪)

Now let's say in your au Jon is their son, but while he isn't born... You know how when Conner showed up Clark didn't take him in as his son, and more like a cousin, very distant (makes me so angry and sad), so lets say Conner shows up, Clark wants to keep his distance, but Reader INSTANTLY imprints on him and treats him as a mama bear and loves him a lot, despite Clark's distate

LET JON BE HER SON!

But yes they do have quite a lot of kids besides Jon, he is probably the first born, but they probably have five to six biological children and no one will change my mind on this.

I imagine that Clark and his darling moving to Smallville at some point, maybe Ma and Pa passed away so if that happened then Conner would end up being taken in by them cause he is still technically a kid (a clone, but he has the mentally of a teenager). Conner probably meets Clark’s darling at the funeral, he heard about her when Clark called Martha and Jonathan, his beautiful wife… well not technically since they aren’t legally married, but that hardly matters.

Conner is just sitting there on the porch of the house after the funeral and she comes out to sit with him, bringing him something to eat. He talks with her, asking her about her life before where she is now, stuck in the middle of nowhere for the rest of her life.

At first they have a friendly relationship, since he is around she can actually do stuff around the house while Clark is gone because most of everything is tucked away from her, for her own safety of course. But soon and rather quickly their relationship gets stronger, and it becomes clear what they are to one another when Conner calls her mom while helping her in the garden after school one day. Their relationship is parallel to what Clark’s was with his adoptive mother, albeit she wasn’t able to raise him because he was never exactly a baby because he was created, but he is still her son, her baby boy.

Like I am imagining like after some world threatening incident and the moment Conner sees her he immediately runs straight to her, calling out mom or mama with such relief that nothing happened to her and excitement to see her, and he picks her up in a hug like she weighs nothing while Clark just watches.

I think after seeing the clear signs of his wife’s relationship with Conner, Clark opens up more to him, his darling probably also yelled at Clark about it, scolding him like a child. But even then when the dust settles I think she is closer to Conner than any of her other children that she gives birth to, sure Jon is nothing but sweet, but Conner is the child she chose, he is her son just how Clark was Martha’s son.

(Also I was reading this and my mind immediately went to that one tiktok sound/edit song)

[tanadrin]

Can you explain in what what you think eugenics doesn't work? Does this basically boil down to skepticism about the accuracy of GWAS studies? My understanding is that academic consensus is "G probably exists, disentangling direct genetic inheritance vs genetic cultural inheritance is complicated but possible, we can identify a number of alleles which we're reasonably confident are directly causally involved in having a higher G factor"

when it comes to intelligence, its heritability, and its variation at the population level, my understanding of the science is:

highly adaptive traits don't, in fact, vary much at the genetic level between populations of a species because they are strongly selected for. in an environment where a trait is being strongly selected for, a population that failed to express that trait strongly will be rapidly outcompeted.

intelligence is probably the quintessential such trait for humans. we have sacrificed a great deal of other kinds of specialization in favor of our big brains. we spend an enormous amount of calories supporting those brains. tool use, the ability to plan for the future, the ability to navigate complex social situations and hierarchies in order to secure status, the ability to model the minds of others for the purposes of cooperation and deception means that we should expect intelligence to be strongly selected for for as long as our lineage has been social and tool-using, which is at least the last three million years or so.

so, at least as a matter of a priori assumptions, we should expect human populations not to vary greatly in their genetic predisposition to intelligence. it may nonetheless, but we'd need pretty strong evidence. i think i read this argument on PZ Myers' blog a million years ago, so credit where that's due.

complicating the picture is that we just don't have good evidence for how IQ does vary across populations, even before we get into the question of "how much of this variation is genetic and how much of it is not." the cross-national data on which a lot of IQ arguments have been based is really bad. and that would be assuming IQ tests are in fact good at capturing a notion of IQ that is independent of cultural context, which historically they're pretty bad at

this screed by nassim nicholas taleb (not a diss; AFAICT the guy only writes in screeds) makes a number of arguments, but one argument I find persuasive is that IQ is really only predictive of achievement in the sense that it does usefully discriminate between people with obvious intellectual disabilities and those without--but you do not actually need an IQ test for that sort of thing, any more than you need to use a height chart to figure out who is missing both their legs. in that sense, sure, IQ is predictive of a lot of things. but once you remove this group, the much-vaunted correlations between IQ and stuff like wealth just straight-up vanishes

heritability studies are a useful tool, but a tool which must be wielded carefully; they were developed for studying traits which were relatively easy to isolate in very specific populations, like a crop under study at an agricultural research site, and are more precarious when applied to, e.g., human populations

my understanding based on jonathan kaplan articles like this one is that twin studies are not actually that good at distinguishing heritable factors from environmental ones--they have serious limitations compared to heritability studies where you actually can rigorously control for environmental effects, like you can with plants or livestock.

as this post also points out, heritability studies also only examine heritability within groups, and are not really suited to examining large-scale population differences, *especially* in the realm of intelligence where there is a huge raft of confounding factors, and a lack of a really robust measurement tool.

(if we are worried about intelligence at the population level, it seems to me there are interventions we know are going to be effective and do not rely on deeply dubious scientific speculation, e.g., around nutrition and healthcare and serious wealth inequality and ofc education; and if what people actually want is to raise the average intelligence of the population rather than justify discrimination against minorities, then they might focus on those much more empirically grounded interventions. even if population differences in IQ are real and significant and point to big differences in intelligence, we know those things are worth a fair few IQ points. but most people who are or historically have been the biggest advocates for eugenics are, in my estimation, mostly interested in justifying discrimination.)

i think the claims/application of eugenics extend well beyond just intelligence, ftr. eugenics as an ideology is complex and historically pretty interesting, and many eugenicists have made much broader claims than just "population-level differences in intelligence exist due to genetic factors, and we should try to influence them with policy," but that is a useful point for them to fall back onto when pressed on those other claims. but i don't think even that claim is at all well-supported.

[stevesbipanic]

@steddieangstyaugust Day 27: "I thought we agreed it was over."

Eddie saw Steve's beemer pull up outside the trailer before he heard the knock at the door. The words were already leaving his lips as he opened it, "I thought we agreed it was over."

It had hurt, the break up, but Eddie had been expecting it. He knew Steve would never be his forever no matter how much he wanted him to be. It was all too easy for him to push back the tears and agreed when Steve said things like it was for the best and that they'd never work.

He had tried not to think about all the times Steve had said how much he loved how they were different, that it meant they got to share things with the other person. How Steve whispered love confessions when he thought Eddie was asleep weeks before he was brave enough to voice them in the daylight.

It was over, and that was that, so why was Steve here?

The sentence fizzled out though when he took in Steve's features. A quickly blackening swollen eye, a split lip, knuckles bruised and bleeding. Steve was trying to hold his side while also tightly gripping the backpack on his other shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

Eddie hadn't heard from Steve in months besides the occasional update from the kids or a glance at him from hellfire pick ups. The sound of those words made him realise how much he had missed Steve's voice despite how broken it now sounded.

All the hurt he'd felt melted away, stored for a later time when Steve wasn't swaying so much, when his face wasn't so pale. Eddie gently guided him inside, taking the backpack and placing it on the couch before leading Steve to the bathroom.

He methodically cleaned up his cuts and checked his ribs and tried not to think about the fact that the doctor said Steve shouldn't risk another concussion. He got Steve a change of clothes and sat him upright on the bed.

"Can't sleep yet, sweetheart, got to make sure your heads ok for awhile, alright?"

Steve's eyes became misty again, "Didn't think I'd ever hear you call me that again, Eds. I'm so sorry."

Eddie took Steve's less injured hand in his, gently stroking the back of it, "What happened, Steve?"

The question didn't help the tears that now seemed to flow freely down Steve's cheeks, "I thought if I broke up with you I could keep you safe, keep the both of us safe."

Eddie's grip tightened slightly, "Stevie."

"I was stupid I should've given the box of stuff from you to Robin or someone but I wanted to keep a piece of you close, and he, he found a picture of the two of us, the one Jonathan took at your birthday party."

Eddie knew the picture, it was his favourite, he still kept it tacked to his wall, didn't have the heart to take it down and put it with every other part of Steve that now sat in a box under his bed. Jonathan had caught the exact moment Steve kissed him while he cut his cake, they looked so happy, they were happy.

Eddie could infer the rest, "Your dad did this then?"

Steve nodded, "Kicked me out too, I'm sorry I would've gone to Dustin's but he's at his grandparents and Robin is at college and I just." Eddie pulls Steve closer, "I'm glad you came here, baby, you're safe here." Steve seems to finally relax at those words, like he'd been holding his breath since the day they'd parted.

"I didn't mean anything I said, Eddie," Steve cried.

Eddie gave Steve a sad smile. "I know, let's talk about all that later, just rest now I'll wake you up in a little bit to check your head again," Eddie said pushing Steve softly down onto the bed. They had a lot to discuss, a lot of hearts to mend but for now Eddie just needed Steve to be ok.

"Will you stay?"

"As long as you need me."

[celestialgalaxyglow]

Batfam and Danny, Part 39

Wayne Manor, Living Room.

Dick: Oh my goodness, guys you need to see this.

Kara: What is it?

Dick: An article from the Gotham Gazette, it's about Damian and Jon's little video essay on that movie they watched.

Jason: Little? That thing was 3 hours long.

Damian: We had a lot to say.

Tim: What does it say?

Dick: "Inspiring critics Damian Wayne al Ghul and Jonathan Samuel "Jon" Kent hit it big with first review." yada yada yada. "In just a week their YouTube video has passed 15 million views and gained 4.5 million likes" yada yada yada. "Likewise their YouTube channel Wayne-Kent al Ghul Reviews has almost reached 100,000 subscribes, a major achievement for any YouTube channel."

Jon (a little embarrassed): My mediocre video editing skills are not worth all of that. Most of the credit belongs to Damian.

Damian: That's not true! It's thanks to your editing that anyone even watched the video to begin with.

Kara: You both did a good job, teamwork makes the dream work.

Tim: "Inspiring critics?" You two plan on making more videos?

Damian and Jon looked at each other.

Damian and Jon: Maybe?

Dick (laughing): Oh that's not the end of it, listen. "The movie's director, Jean-François Gabriel Philibert, who was seen as the most likely candidate to direct the upcoming film Five Nights at Freddy's 5: The Fifth Night, has had his name removed the contention with Cesária Leonor Lourdes now looking like the most likely director candidate for the animatronic themed film, as a result of this review."

Damian and Jon: ...

Tim: Damn, Mr. Philibert as been in the movie business for 30 years, and here he is, taken down by video made by two 12-year-olds during their first date.

Jon: We didn't mean for that to happen.

Damian: Overall it was an ok movie, it was just all the assassin stuff that was horribly wrong, the man didn't deserve to lose a job opportunity because of it.

Jason: Meh the man is big in the industry, he'll recover. You two on the other hand deserve a job well done, your channel has existed for a week and is nearing 100,000 subscribers, good job.

Kara: Soon you'll get the silver play button.

Dick: That's a good point, who's keeping the play button?

Damian: Well if we do start making reviews, even irregularly, we'll need a studio, so we could just hang it up there. We can use one of the spare rooms.

Jason: You already have an art studio.

Damian: And now I'll need a video making studio.

Jon: With a small soundproof room where we can record.

Damian: That too.

Alfred: I will bring up the topic to your father Master Damian, I'm sure he'll agree and supply you and Jon with everything you two will need for your new hobby.

Jon: Thank you Alfred!

Damian: Thank you jadd.

Alfred: Now who wants cookies?

(Master Post)

"Jadd" is an Arabic term for grandfather. (Here's the site I got it from)

[ahsokaismyqueen]

Disappointed Revelations

Pairing - Steve Harrington x HendersonSister!Reader

Summary - After working on a school project together, you had actually started to believe that there was more to Steve Harrington than meets the eye. All of that changes after an interaction with Jonathan Byers.

Word Count - 1.7k

Warnings - Language, season 1 Steve, they come a long way from this friends.

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Sister Reader Masterlist

You could tell that something was wrong. Well, a lot of things were wrong at the moment, but this was even more so. Jonathan and you were not close. Acquaintances, not much more than that, but you knew how close he was with his brother. He had to be taking this hard. The frown on your lips deepened as you watched him get approached by Steve Harrington and his little lackeys. 

“Hey! Earth to Henderson!” You were snapped back to reality by Eddie who was waving his hand in your face. “You know, if I wasn’t so secure in our undying friendship, I might be offended by you ignoring me.” 

Shoving his hand away, you gave him a grin. “I apologize my dear dungeon master. My attention was captivated by the douchebag crew over there.” You said, gesturing towards them. 

Eddie turned to where you were looking, his eyes widening with interest as he leaned against the car next to you. “Well, that is intriguing isn’t it? What do you think it’s about?” 

There was no telling. All you could think about though was that the last thing you would want to deal with if Dustin was missing was them. Sure, Steve had been . . . Nice to you earlier when it had been just the two of you working on the project together, but he always got worse whenever he was around Tommy. “I don’t know.” You admitted, and watched as Jonathan tried to brush past them but Tommy grabbed his bag off his shoulder, “but I don’t like it. He’s got enough to deal with right now.” 

He picked up something in your tone, and you felt his gaze on the side of your face. “His brother was friends with yours wasn’t he?” 

“Is,” you corrected, without looking at him. 

Eddie cleared his throat awkwardly. “Right.” 

Letting out a sigh, you watched as they continued to antagonize Jonathan. “I taught him how to play DND, you know? With the rest of Dustin’s friends. Pretty good little player.” You bumped your shoulder into Eddie’s. “Might give you a run for your money some day.” 

He let out a scoff at your words. “You know, I’m taking back the undying friendship -”

“What the hell!” You leapt off the back of the car as you watched Steve drop Jonathan’s camera on the ground. 

“Henderson, what are you -”

You hadn’t even realized you had started moving. Eddie was calling out to you, followed by a couple murmurs of shit, shit, shit,  but you didn’t care. All you felt was anger. Jonathan didn't deserve that. You knew what his home life was like. He had probably had to work hard to save up enough for that camera, and it must have been like rubbing salt in the wound of Will’s disappearance to have another thing taken away from him, even as small as that. It reminded you of - 

“You’re such a fucking dick, Harrington!” The words left your mouth before you even thought about them, shoving his back and causing him to stumble forward. 

Steve turned around, looking even more startled when he realized it was you. “Henderson, what the hell was that for?!” 

But you didn’t stop, you kept coming for him with an anger that was buried deep inside of you, reaching out to shove him again. “His brother is fucking missing, and you can’t have sympathy for two minutes -”

Steve grabbed a hold of your arms, keeping them at your sides even as you tried to shove him off. “He was taking pictures of -”

“I don’t give a shit what he was taking pictures of.” You hissed in his face. “Not everyone can get their daddy to buy them new stuff when it breaks. Sometimes you can’t ever get things back.” Against your will, you felt tears of anger forming in your eyes. You could also feel Steve’s chest heaving against yours, the tension in the air thick, and for a moment, you thought you saw an ounce of regret in his eyes. 

“God, the freak has finally lost her mind.” Carol Perkins said with a laugh. 

“Stay out of this.” Steve snapped at her.

“Shut the hell up you pathetic bitch.” 

Steve and you spoke at the same time, and there was a moment of silence at your words. You heard footsteps step closer to the two of you, but you didn’t take your eyes off Steve, your face still flooded with simmering anger. 

“What did you call me?” You heard Carol say. 

You felt Steve’s hands tighten for the briefest moment on your wrists, almost like a warning, but you still didn’t care enough to even glance her way. “A. Pathetic. Bitch. All together it’s only five syllables. Didn’t realize that was above your comprehension level.” You said,  “But I’m not surprised.” 

“How dare you -”

“I told you to stay the hell out of it!” Steve yelled at her, breaking your gaze for a moment to glare at her, and you used his distraction to yank your arms out of his grip. 

You took a step back from him, not even realizing until that moment how close the two of you had been. “I can’t believe I thought for one second you might not be such a bad person.” You admitted. “But you really are a dick.” 

Steve looked hurt. It shocked you, but he looked upset by your words. Why? You didn’t know. It wasn’t like he gave a single shit what your opinion of him was anyway. 

“Henderson!” You finally tore your gaze away from Steve at the sound of Eddie’s voice. “Let’s get out of here.” You didn’t know when it had happened, but Eddie had joined the circle, glancing between Steve and you with an expression that was a cross between concern and confusion. 

Tommy stepped forward then, clapping Steve on the shoulder and looking at you with a smirk. “You know, she’s not wrong, Harrington. You are a dick.” 

“She’s got an eye for that. You know with all her experience with them.” Carol said, and you turned away from her, taking a few steps towards Eddie as he slung an arm around your shoulder. “Though normally it’s just freak dick.” 

Your hands tightened into fists for a brief moment, but you didn’t respond, knowing it wouldn’t be worth it. 

“Bet she wouldn’t know what to do with a real one.” You heard Tommy said, and a round of laughter at what that implied made you snap once more. 

“I hope you’re not implying that you have a real one! I’d need a damn telescope to find yours -!” You yelled, turning around to see Steve hold Tommy back. 

“Bitch!” 

“Asshole!” You yelled back. 

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie said, sliding his arm down to grab a hold of your waist and literally tug you away from them. “What the hell has gotten into you?!” He pulled you to a stop beside Jonathan while Nancy went to answer Steve’s call for her. 

You ignored his question, frankly because you weren’t sure how to answer it, and bent down to look at the damaged camera. “Can it be fixed?” You asked him. 

He shook his head, carefully picking up the bigger pieces. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

You knew you didn’t, but something inside of you hadn’t let you stop. You gave Jonathan a sad smile. “If there’s anything Dustin and I can do to help find Will . . . We want to help.” You thought about how many times he must have heard that, because it was what you were expected to say, right? “I’m serious.” You added, wanting him to know you were. “He’s a good kid.” You told him, handing him one of the bigger pieces. 

Jonathan looked at you for a second, then nodded. “Thanks for not saying ‘was’.” He grabbed what he could of his things, and with another nod to the two of you, headed to his car. 

“Are you going to tell me what the hell all that was about?” Eddie said once it was only the two of you again. 

You ran a frustrated hand through your hair. “I don’t know. He just . . . he pissed me off.” 

“He’s done shit like that before. They all have. You didn't shove him then.” Eddie said. 

Eddie was right. You’d witnessed them all being terrible for years now, and it had never bothered you that much. You wanted to say that you didn’t know why, but the truth was, you did. After working on that project together, you actually had started to believe that maybe Steve wasn’t all bad. That maybe there was something more to him than a mindless, womanizing jock. 

You hated that he proved you wrong. 

But you couldn’t admit that to Eddie. He’d say he told you so, and you didn’t think you could stand to hear that right now. “I know.” You said. “I think I’m just worried about Will and Dustin and it’s making me a little crazy.” You told him. It wasn’t a complete lie. It wasn’t the whole truth either, but it was all you were willing to admit. 

Of course, Eddie was your best friend. He had been since middle school, and he probably knew you as well as Dustin did. He could sense you weren’t being honest with him. “You sure about that?” 

You didn’t want to answer. You let out a sigh, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “You were right. I need to get out of here. Maybe take a nap or something.” You said, holding out your hand for the keys to his van. 

Eddie dropped them into your palm without protest, going to hold the door open for you. “Whatever you say.” He said, but he didn’t sound convinced. The two of you sat in silence for a moment while you both got situated in your seats, and you started the car up before he spoke again. “I will say that was one of your more badass moments though.” 

You shook your head, sending him a small smile. He was right after all. It wasn’t often that you spoke up like that. The problem was, after a moment like that, you should feel proud of yourself right? 

Then why did you feel so disappointed?

[bleedingoptimism]

As Steve walks into the grocery store he pulls his sunglasses off, only to put them back on again immediately. The lights of the store make the back of his eyes sting. Hungover from a bad headache, not that people here would care why. Whatever, is not like everyone already doesn’t think he’s an asshole. He doesn’t need to perform for anyone anymore.

A guy, singing to himself down one of the aisles peaks his attention, he’s tall and has long black hair and Steve belatedly remembers that he’s Jon’s friend from California.

“Argyle?” he asks, more to himself than to him, but Argyle turns and smiles at him as if they are old friends. He approaches and grabs his shoulder, shaking him a little.

“Oh! Hi Stevie!” 

The confidence and attitude he carries himself with make Steve smile for some reason. It’s like he’s very sure of himself but in a nice way, not in a douchey way, like his high school buddies were. Although hearing someone call him “Stevie” reminds him of Tommy and a very different time and he can’t help but shrink inwards a little, “Oh no please, just Steve,” he says with an apologetic smile, pulling his sunglasses off again and placing them on his head. And because he doesn’t want Argyle to think he’s the douchebag, he explains further, “‘Stevie’ brings back bad memories,”

Argyle leans his head to the side with a pout but then smiles and squeezes Steve’s shoulder, “Dude, it’s fine, we can just make new ones, man! Better ones.”

Steve’s first reaction is to scoff. As if it were that easy… but then he thinks, hell, maybe it is.  Maybe it is and it makes him smile. Argyle is way too outgoing for it to be comfortable for other people, it’s kind of ridiculous. For a second, he wonders if Jonathan found it jarring when he first met him. But Steve finds it refreshing. He shakes his head and smiles,

“So what were you looking for? Maybe I can help?” he offers.

Argyle turns in a circle, letting go of Steve’s shoulder and opening his arms wide, like he’s presenting the store to Steve, “See man, I'm mentally preparing myself for the munchies. I kind of wanted to make a pizza but like sweet? You get me?”

“Like a pie?” Steve chuckles.

“That! Sounds delicious, dude! But I don’t know how to make a pie,” Argyle laments, and Steve has no idea what possesses him to say,

“I do. You want help?” 

Argyle stills his whole body and then shakes it before he starts snapping his fingers rapidly, startling Steve.

“Ok! Ok ok ok ok ok! Are you busy right now, man?”

“Just need to buy my groceries…” Steve says unable to keep the bewilderment off his expression.

“I’ll help you with that, we’ll buy things for the pie and then you invite me over, how’s that my dude?” Argyle says, no preambles, “I have a doobie and a lot of questions about all the shit that went down” he adds moving his eyebrows up and down quickly.

“What about Jon?” Steve can’t help but ask.

“Ah man, Jonny is with Nancy right now. Those two love birds had a lot to talk about, so I figured I’d make myself scarce.” Argyle answers, nodding apprehensively at his own statement.

Steve finds himself nodding along before saying, “Yeah, okay. Let’s do it!”

“Hell yeah, Stevie!” Argyle exclaims throwing his arms up and this time, Steve doesn’t cringe at the nickname.

After that, Argyle follows Steve through the store, helping him put things in the cart, making a few comments about differences in products or prices from California, but mostly staying out of the way and humming to himself. Steve asks him what he wants the pie to be (strawberries and chocolate) so he gets the ingredients for that too and then they are off.

When they get to his place, Steve tells him to get comfortable while he puts stuff away but Argyle helps him out before sitting on a tall stool in the kitchen and watching as Steve gets all the ingredients for the pie laid out.

“You know dude, you’re kind of exactly how I imagined you’d be,” Argyle tells him, gifting him another one of his smiles. 

“Really?” Steve asks surprised.

“Jon told me all about you, man,” he answers nodding. 

Steve raises an eyebrow at that, “And you still want to hang out with me?” he asks, half judgy, half defensive.

“Of course! Because you know what I got from it, dog?” Argyle asks and Steve just stares at him, afraid to know the answer.

“That you are a good person, Stevie! So you got off to a rocky start dude, so what? I think that makes you all the more interesting.”

Steve purses his lips in an attempt not to smile and raises an eyebrow.

“You went to hell and beyond for someone you didn’t even like! You’ve paid your dues and a half for whatever shit you did when you were younger and it could’ve made you bitter or closed off, man! But it didn’t. Not even the tiniest little bit. You barely know me and you invited me over and offered to bake pie for me, dude!” 

Steve chuckles and shakes his head, “You got all that from what Jon told you? Also you invited yourself over,” he jokes. 

Argyle laughs and then just shrugs, choosing to ignore Steve’s question about Jon.

He lets it go, and Argyle lights up the joint while he starts making the pie. After they both get a few hits, Argyle starts asking him about everything. ‘Start from the beginning’ he says.

Steve starts off a little stiff but gets looser with the weed and Argyle's presence and ends up telling him practically everything. Argyle asks a few questions every once in a while, sometimes about the process of making the pie. Sometimes some really intense shit like ‘and how did that make you feel?’, ‘did you think you were going to die?’ ‘were you scared?’.

Steve answers everything honestly, and it feels incredibly cathartic. His favorite questions are the ones about the pie though, and he smiles the biggest when Argyle says next time he’ll make one for him.

In turn, Steve asks him how he met Jon and chuckles when Argyle confirms his thoughts and tells him Jon didn’t like Argyle one bit at first.

“He said I was too happy. He didn’t trust it. Dude couldn’t trust anyone that hadn’t gone through some kind of shit in their lives” Argyle laughs, “But I can thaw even the coldest of hearts, man! As we got to know each other, he realized that I did have my own shit going on, but that happiness was a choice for me. Is who I had chosen to be.”

They talk about that too, how it wasn’t an easy choice. How some days it’s harder than others, to keep at it. How all the Upside Down shit affected him too.

By the time the pie is done and the joint is gone, Steve feels incredibly close to Argyle. Like they’ve been friends forever. 

“So that’s pretty much it,” he says with a sigh after finishing a rant about why he doesn’t keep in touch with his high school buddies because Argyle had asked about them.

“Dude, you’ve been through so much,” he says solemnly.

“Yeah, you know that’s…. Life…” Steve says, shrugging. He doesn't know exactly what to say, suddenly feeling very awkward at being seen.

“Nah, Stevie. Me being kicked out of my house as soon as I was old enough to get a job ‘cause my parents couldn’t afford to keep feeding me and my younger siblings…. That’s life.” Argyle says seriously and quickly dismisses Steve's worried face adding, “It’s ok dude, they were great parents, they raised me well and I still go visit every other weekend” And then sighs and looks sternly at Steve again,

“Like I said, that’s life. What you’ve been through? Was hell”

“The kids had it worse- Ell-” Steve starts but Argyle interrupts him.

“That doesn’t erase what you've been through, Steve. It doesn’t make it less of a nightmare, man.” Steve just looks at Argyle as what he’s saying sinks in. 

“And you got through it, dude. You came out the other side even a better person than when it started and like- you saved lives! You saved my best friend's life and like- like- you should be proud of yourself Stevie. I’m proud of you, man” he finishes with a carefree smile. As if he hadn’t just rocked the ground Steve was standing on. And he doesn't know if it’s the weed, or Argyle’s words, or both but Steve closes the distance between them and hugs him.

“Oh, hey! Hugs! I love hugs!” Argyle laughs, and hugs him back, taking it all in stride.

“Sorry,” Steve sniffles embarrassed, “I didn’t know I needed to hear that till you said it,” he croaks.

“Nah, it’s good. I got you” Argyle responds, patting his back lightly.

The hug is wonderful, friendly, warm, and just the right length but when he’s stepping away from Argyle, he hears a wary sound from the kitchen door.

“Uhm…hi” 

It’s Eddie. Pocker-faced and cautious and Steve knows him well enough to know he’s freaking out inside.

“Oh, hi! Eddie! Good to see you, dude!” Argyle says good naturally and completely out of the loop. Steve smiles at him too and rubs his eyes with the back of his hand to dry them off a bit.

Whatever Eddie was thinking goes out the window when he looks closely at Steve and walks towards him, leaning closer to look him in the eye, “You okay?” he asks concerned.

Steve nods and Argyle clears his throat, “I’m going to… set the table for three,” he says, so maybe, not as out of the loop as Steve first thought.

Eddie completely ignores Argyle and grabs Steve’s face, his thumb caressing the underside of his eye, “You really ok?” he asks again and Steve chuckles,

“Yeah,” he answers with a smile.

Eddie hums and then looks back towards where Argyle is opening and closing cabinets in the dining room, looking for plates, “So… Should I be jealous?” he asks and Steve snorts amused, 

“Of course not,” he says.

“You sure? ‘Cause maybe your type wasn’t curls and big eyes, maybe it was long hair and weed all along,” Eddie presses and Steve can tell he’s trying to make a joke out of it but is actually asking for real and Steve gets frankly, really annoyed.

“You know what? Maybe you should be jealous. Argy would never accuse me like that,” Inwardly he cringes at the nickname but it gets the point across. Eddie’s face falls and he looks devastated and terrified for a second before Steve smirks bitchily at him and then Eddie is frowning.

“Asshole” he murmurs, despite still holding Steve’s face as if it were precious and fragile.

Steve steps closer, placing his hands on Eddie’s waist, “You started it” he says as an apology. Kind of.

Eddie huffs and moves his hands to Steve shoulder’s, one thumb pressed to his pulse, “I regret it” 

Steve hums, “Just for the record? A little possessiveness is kind of hot,” he says and pecks the tip of Eddie’s nose, “You questioning my feelings for you? Is not.” and then flicks it.

“Dully noted,” Eddie nods.

Steve looks him in the eye as he leans closer, kisses him fully in the mouth firmly, eyes open the whole time, and then whispers “Good boy,” before he steps away.

He smirks again seeing the full-body effect his little stunt has on Eddie. The way his eyelids fall, his mouth opens, the goosebumps on his arm hair, and the shiver that runs through his spine. He takes a moment to take it all in before he smiles, less predatory and more friendly. Eddie smiles back, and shakes his head amused, like he can't believe Steve is real. He does that a lot.

Steve then takes Eddie’s hand on his own and kisses his knuckles before moving past him and dragging him to the dining room with him, 

“Now c’mon. Let’s go eat pie with my new friend”

e͟n͟d͟

a coffee? a doobie? ☕🥐💕

[welcometohellfilm]

Congrats to everyone who has been working on W2H2! 🎉 If it's alright, I'd like to ask to ask 2 questions:

Is there by chance an official ref of colors for Debbie, or is it still up to interpretation at the moment?

Would you say that your personal, real life experiences within the 10 years moving from W2H to W2H2 shifted the tone/story of the series in some way? Something that I've always been fascinated with when I started looking more into W2H was the shift in Sock's character from the original comic -> first film -> second film, and Jonathan's character from the first film -> second film.

Thank you! ✨

I actually just made some 'official'-ish colors for Debbie! Her voice actor Kaitlyn wanted something to use on a banner for conventions haha... so here you go!

2. I'm not really sure how to answer this one, haha. I mean I've definitely changed as a person over the course of making each iteration of W2H. I started the comic while I was at community college, before I went to art school. I adapted it into an animation for my graduation project. And I started W2H2 a couple years after I graduated college. So there's a good 2-3 years between each attempt at W2H I've done, haha. I think a lot of my original ideas from the comic had to change because it needed to be condensed into a short film. I didn't even GET to Jonathan yet in the comic! Some things just didn't make sense to me anymore, like the idea of Sock already having a human body count. It'd just be absurd for him to be able to hide it for so long! Plus, if I made it so that Sock has only ever entertained the idea of murder, it makes his new job that much more appealing-- it's a chance for him to really lean in to this thing he's always had to hide. Between the first and second films though, I mean... I think there's been some tonal shift, for sure (I don't know about a character shift? We'll get to that haha) But basically, when I was first thinking about W2H2, my idea was "Sock and Jonathan hang out and attempt to figure out touch physics, also there's some drama about a journal Jonathan keeps." All of the hell stuff is something that came from bouncing ideas around with my friends, Michael and Neil. I was worried that sending Jonathan to hell would be too bonkers for a "2nd episode", but we all kinda agreed that enough time had passed that the fans would probably enjoy something higher stakes, so it would be fine. (I'll give everyone a moment to realize this conversation would've been happening in 2015-16... ha.)

We also kind of thought, y'know... I have no idea how many more of these there's even gonna' be, so why not go a little bigger with this one? W2H2 is a higher stakes story than what I set out to make in the beginning, that's for sure. It is interesting to compare all of them.. the employee handbook was actually from the comic and I cut that because it wasn't helpful for W2H... but then it became helpful for W2H2, so it came back! Haha. I'm curious to know in what ways people think the characters have changed though. (And is that a good thing or a bad thing?) Especially a character like Jonathan, no one's really even seen that much of him yet, I think most of the characterization comes from fandom, or like... art I've drawn, I guess? Haha... I'm not sure! I guess Sock's a little more confident and antagonistic in this one (though he'll have his moments of hesitation... we're only at Part 1 right now!), and Jonathan has had to become a more vocal/active character, just by nature of the kind of story it is, I suppose. But yeah, I'm not sure! Happy to hear your guys' thoughts though!

[empressdede]

Never Ending - 2

This was originally supposed to be a two shot, but then I kept writing so…😭 maybe a four part mini series 🤣🫶🏾

Previous Next

Ciera was halfway through taking her notes in Chemistry when the words group project came out of Mr. Langston’s mouth. She didn’t flinch, didn’t groan like the rest of the class. She simply clicked her pen, already bracing for whatever random partner fate would assign her.

She wasn’t prepared for him.

“Jonathan Fatu and Ciera Monroe,” Mr. Langston read off.

Her head snapped up.

Jon looked back over his shoulder at her, eyes narrowing like he was trying not to grin. “Hey, partner.”

Ciera blinked slowly. “I’m switching seats.”

“Nope,” Mr. Langston said without looking up. “No trades. Sit next to your partner, Fatu.”

Jon slung his backpack over one shoulder and strolled over like he owned the world. His hair had gotten longer since middle school, always tied back in a loose bun, and he wore that same cocky smirk like it was stitched into his DNA.

He flopped down beside her. “Miss me?”

“Like I miss extra homework.”

He chuckled. “Still quick with the comebacks.”

Ciera angled her body away just slightly. “Still allergic to taking anything seriously?”

“Only things that don’t involve you.”

She shot him a look. “Do you even know what the project is?”

“Something about acids and bases,” he said, waving vaguely toward the board. “I figured you’d do the smart stuff and I’d carry the supplies.”

“That’s not how this is gonna work.”

He leaned closer, voice dipping into that teasing tone that always made her ears heat. “You sure? ’Cause I remember you used to love bossing me around.”

Ciera stiffened.

It had been almost two years since they’d really talked. Since that slow dance in eighth grade, interrupted too soon. Since Sadé pulled her away, and Jon just grinned like he didn’t care. And then high school happened. Jon joined the football team, got louder, funnier, became everybody’s favorite. Ciera drifted into AP classes, study groups, a quiet lane of her own making.

They’d passed each other in halls—shared a few classes. The teasing never stopped. But the closeness? That had faded.

Until now.

“You gonna write anything down?” she asked, opening her notebook.

He pulled out a pencil from behind his ear. “Depends. You gonna yell at me if I mess it up?”

“Depends. You planning to try?”

He grinned. “There she is.”

They started working—sort of. Ciera outlined the hypothesis, while Jon fiddled with the pH strips like they were toy swords.

“Jon,” she warned, “you’re gonna contaminate the samples.”

“Relax, Doc Monroe. I know what I’m doing.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Since when?”

“Since always. I just let you think you were the brains.”

She smirked. “You let me?”

“Mmhmm.”

She shook her head and focused on the worksheet. For a moment, the silence settled—but not comfortably. Not yet.

Then Jon said, casually, “Remember that science fair in sixth grade?”

Ciera blinked. “The one where you tried to make a volcano and it exploded on the principal?”

He laughed, head thrown back. “Hey, I maintain that was a successful reaction.”

“You nearly blinded Ms. Carter.”

“She shouldn’t have been that close.”

“You put vinegar in the wrong chamber.”

“You still remember all that?” he asked, tone softer.

Ciera looked at him. “I remember a lot of things.”

He tilted his head, studying her. “Yeah… me too.”

The words lingered, heavier than she expected.

She cleared her throat, going back to the paper. “So we need three acids and three bases to test with litmus. You wanna grab the materials?”

“You asking me to do actual work?”

“I’m asking you to do your share.”

Jon stood, mock saluting. “Yes, ma’am.”

As he walked away, Ciera let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. He hadn’t changed much—not really. Still charming, still annoying. Still able to make her smile when she didn’t want to.

He returned with the samples, sliding back into his seat like he hadn’t just made her heart beat too fast.

“All right, scientist,” he said. “Let’s make some color magic.”

Ciera dipped the first strip. “You ever think about that dance?”

He blinked. “What?”

“Eighth grade. Middle school dance. You asked me to come.”

Jon leaned back in his chair, arms folded. “You came.”

“You asked.”

“Barely.”

“You asked,” she said again, watching his face carefully.

He grinned. “Okay, maybe I did. But you were the one staring at me the whole night.”

“Was not.”

“Were too.”

“You’re delusional.”

“You were about to kiss me.”

“You leaned in first!”

“I was being polite!”

“Oh my God, polite?” she laughed.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes sparkling. “Didn’t want to catch a slap if I misread.”

Ciera smiled despite herself. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Jon sat forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Real talk… you think we would’ve worked?”

Ciera blinked. The question came out of nowhere. “Back then?”

He nodded.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “We were kids.”

He shrugged. “Yeah… but we had something. Didn’t we?”

Her eyes searched his face. “Maybe. Maybe we still do.”

Jon leaned a little closer. “You saying you still like me, Monroe?”

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks burned. “I’m saying… I remember what it felt like when we danced.”

His grin softened. “I remember too.”

They sat in the stillness of that moment, the rest of the classroom fading into background noise.

Then she spoke again, quieter this time. “What happened to us?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Life. You went one way. I went another.”

“You got popular.”

“You got serious.”

“We drifted,” she said.

“But we didn’t forget.”

Their eyes met again—this time, with something older and deeper between them.

Then, of course, Jon broke the tension.

“So you gonna admit you liked me first or what?”

Ciera scoffed. “Me? Please. You were obsessed with me in seventh grade.”

“Says the girl who used to write my name in her notebook.”

She gasped. “Lies!”

“I saw it. Big heart around it and everything.”

“Jon!”

He laughed, full and unbothered. “You really used to blush every time I sat near you.”

“And you used to throw spitballs at me in homeroom.”

“Because I liked you!”

“Oh my God,” she groaned, covering her face.

Jon reached out and gently tugged her hand away. “I still like you, you know.”

She froze.

He said it so easily, so confidently. No joke behind it. Just words, plain and simple.

“I don’t know if you still like me,” he added, “but if you do… I’d want to find out what that looks like. For real.”

Ciera stared at him, heart pounding.

This wasn’t middle school anymore. They weren’t dancing in a decorated gym with streamers and slow songs. They were older, messier, still figuring it out.

But maybe, just maybe, they still had that spark.

“You’re not just saying that because you don’t wanna fail Chemistry, right?” she teased, voice trembling slightly.

He laughed, shaking his head. “I mean… that’s a bonus.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away when his fingers brushed hers again.

“Wanna finish this project first,” she said, “before we plan our wedding?”

Jon grinned. “So that’s a yes?”

She didn’t answer—not directly. Just dipped the next strip in the solution and smiled when it turned a bright blue.

“Looks like a strong base,” she said.

Jon looked at her, amused. “Like your flirting game?”

“Like your chances if you keep running your mouth.”

He leaned back, satisfied. “God, I missed this.”

Ciera finally looked at him, soft and open. “Yeah. Me too.”

⸻⸻

The final bell echoed through the school like a sigh of relief.

Ciera was one of the few students who didn’t rush the hallways like a prison break. Instead, she moved with quiet precision, slipping down the corridor past the main exit, toward her locker. Her backpack was heavier than usual—Mr. Langston’s chemistry project meant hauling a textbook the size of a microwave, and there was no way she was lugging that home.

She rounded the corner and reached her locker, the metal cool beneath her fingertips. Twisting the combination, she popped it open and began sorting through her books.

A small part of her—okay, maybe a medium part—kept replaying the project period with Jon.

The way he looked at her. How his voice had gone soft when he said, “I still like you.”

She hadn’t expected that. Not from Jonathan Fatu—the boy who used to dunk paper balls in her hair and laugh when she got detention for talking back. The boy who danced with her in eighth grade and almost kissed her under the glow of cafeteria fairy lights.

Now here he was again. Same mischief in his eyes, but older. Bolder. And, apparently, still interested.

She shook her head. Don’t read into it. He’s always joking.

Just as she placed her Chemistry book on the top shelf, a voice slid into her ear like silk.

“So… did you miss me already?”

She flinched, spinning around. Jon leaned against the neighboring locker like a scene out of some teenage rom-com—arms folded, hair pulled back, grin in place.

“Do you practice being this annoying or does it just come naturally?” she asked, hand over her chest.

“I’ve been gifted since birth.”

Ciera rolled her eyes, stuffing a notebook into the locker. “What do you want, Jon?”

He raised his eyebrows, playful. “Straight to the point. I like that.”

“Because I have a life outside of entertaining you.”

“Ouch.” He clutched his heart. “That one actually hurt.”

She gave him a smirk and shut her locker. “Then I’m doing it right.”

But Jon didn’t flinch. Didn’t take the bait and leave like he usually did after a round of back-and-forth.

Instead, he stayed.

Leaned in just a bit.

“Actually,” he said, his voice a little quieter, “I wanted to ask you something.”

Ciera tilted her head. “Oh?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was thinking about what I said earlier… maybe it’s time I finally take you out.”

She blinked.

“On a real date,” he added. “Like dinner or something. Not just projects and playful insults.”

For a second, she didn’t say anything. Her fingers curled around her bag strap, mind racing. Part of her had waited for this. The other part? Terrified to ruin the rhythm they had—this teasing, electric pull that always hovered between friendship and something more.

“Wow,” she said slowly. “You’re actually asking me out?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Ciera raised an eyebrow. “No jokes? No double-dare from your friends? You sure this isn’t some kind of bet?”

He chuckled. “You think I need a dare to ask you out?”

“Considering the last time you tried, we were thirteen and you ran off before Sadé could roast you—yes.”

Jon laughed, shaking his head. “Nah. I’m serious this time.”

Ciera leaned back against the row of lockers, arms crossing loosely. “That’s new.”

“I figured if I kept waiting, someone else might get to you first.”

“Now that’s more like you—territorial and late.”

“But honest,” he said, stepping closer.

She looked up at him, the teasing slowly slipping from her features, replaced with something gentler. “I’ll think about it.”

Jon blinked. “You’ll think about it?”

“Mmhmm.”

“You’re breaking my heart, Monroe.”

“Good. Builds character.”

He exhaled, leaning in until they were barely a foot apart. “Okay, fine. I’ll make you a deal.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Oh God.”

“Relax,” he laughed. “Just this: I’ll call you tonight. You answer me then.”

Ciera tilted her head. “Call me?”

“You do still have a phone, right? Or did you evolve into one of those people who only communicates through passive-aggressive glances?”

“You’re one to talk,” she muttered.

“So is that a yes?” he asked, smiling. “You’ll pick up?”

She paused, lips tugging upward. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Depends on how annoying your voicemail is.”

He laughed again, louder this time. “So that’s a yes. You’ll answer.”

She slung her bag over her shoulder. “Don’t get cocky, Fatu.”

Jon stood straighter, brushing imaginary dust off his hoodie. “Too late. I’ve already planned our wedding.”

Ciera rolled her eyes so hard it might’ve given her a headache. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you like me anyway.”

She started to walk off, throwing over her shoulder, “I’ll deny it in court.”

He called after her, “I’ll have witnesses!”

And just like that, they slipped back into their rhythm. But underneath it—woven between every joke and jab—was something undeniable.

A pull.

She was halfway down the hall, smiling despite herself, when a familiar voice called out.

“Ciera!”

She turned to see Sadé jogging toward her, her braids bouncing as she waved. “Girl, wait up!”

Ciera slowed her pace as her best friend caught up, slightly out of breath.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Sadé said. “What took you so long?”

“Locker run,” Ciera replied. “Had to ditch Langston’s chemistry brick.”

Sadé wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. That man needs to stop assigning group projects like we don’t already have lives.”

Ciera smirked. “Mine got interesting.”

Sadé side-eyed her. “Why do you sound smug?”

“No reason.”

“Don’t lie to me, Monroe. Spill.”

Ciera glanced behind her—Jon was still by the lockers, pretending not to watch, but failing miserably.

Sadé followed her gaze, and her mouth dropped open.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“He finally asked?”

“Mmhmm.”

“And??”

“I told him I’d think about it.”

Sadé gasped, grabbing Ciera’s arm. “Girl, what?! You’ve had a thing for him since like—forever!”

“Yeah, well, forever is complicated.”

“Not if he’s asking you out.”

Ciera smiled, a little breathless herself. “He said he’s gonna call me tonight.”

Sadé squealed, practically vibrating. “You better answer that phone.”

“I might.”

“No. No ‘might.’ You will.”

Ciera laughed. “We’ll see.”

They walked side by side, Sadé still talking a mile a minute, but Ciera’s mind drifted again. Back to Jon’s voice, the way he looked at her like she was the only person in the hallway. Like maybe—just maybe—this thing between them was real. Always had been.

She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. But tonight?

Tonight, she’d answer.

The house was quiet except for the faint hum of the AC and the soft buzz of crickets outside the window.

Ciera stood in the middle of her room, arms folded, glaring at the phone on her nightstand like it had personally offended her.

It was 7:57 p.m.

Three minutes until the imaginary deadline she’d given Jonathan to call.

You don’t care, she told herself, marching over to her desk. She picked up her chemistry notebook, flipped to a random page, and tried to focus. Something about ions. Something about valence electrons. Something that wasn’t Jon’s voice in her head saying, I want to take you out.

She bit her lip and underlined the same sentence twice without realizing it.

At 8:01, her phone vibrated.

She jumped.

Unknown Number.

She stared at it for a half second too long.

“Girl, answer the damn phone,” she muttered, snatching it up.

“Hello?”

There was a pause—only a breath—before that familiar voice slipped through.

“Hey.”

Ciera swallowed, hoping her voice didn’t crack. “Hey.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why’d you hesitate?”

“I was busy.”

Jon laughed. “Doing what? Watching the phone from across the room?”

She could hear the grin in his voice, and somehow that made her entire chest flutter.

“Please. I forgot you were even supposed to call.”

“Oh, so now I’m forgettable?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You implied it.”

“I imply a lot of things,” she replied coolly, walking to sit on the edge of her bed. “Doesn’t mean I mean them.”

Jon whistled low. “Damn. Still sharp, huh?”

“Did you call just to get roasted or was there a point?”

“Can’t I miss you a little first?”

Ciera’s heart thumped a little too hard.

She cleared her throat. “Miss me? You saw me like five hours ago.”

“Yeah, but that’s like thirty in Jonathan Fatu hours.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out. “You’re so corny.”

“And yet… here you are. Still on the line.”

“I was raised to be polite.”

“I’ll make a note. Politeness is the new flirting.”

Ciera smiled down at her lap. “Is that what this is? You flirting?”

Jon paused for just a second. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just what I’ve always done with you.”

Something in his voice shifted—less playful, more honest. Ciera’s teasing tone faded too.

“You always did have a way of getting on my nerves,” she murmured.

“And under your skin.”

She exhaled through her nose, the air in her room suddenly warmer. “Is this why you called?”

“No,” he said. “I called because I meant what I said earlier.”

Ciera lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling. “About wanting to take me out?”

“Yeah.”

She let the silence stretch for a beat. “Why now, Jon?”

He didn’t answer right away.

“I don’t know,” he said eventually. “I guess… I got tired of pretending I didn’t care. Like, we joke around, we talk trash, but you and I both know there’s always been more to it than that.”

Her chest tightened.

“Maybe,” she said softly. “But you never really said anything before.”

“I was stupid.”

“No argument here.”

He chuckled. “Fair. I just… you know how it was after middle school. I got caught up. Football, friends, all the attention. I didn’t know how to be real with someone back then.”

“And you think you do now?”

“I’m trying,” he said. “With you, I wanna try.”

Ciera’s throat felt a little tight. She sat up again, suddenly restless, the ceiling too heavy to stare at.

“I noticed you pulling away,” she admitted. “Like, the more popular you got, the less we talked. But I never said anything. I figured it was just… what happens.”

“Yeah,” Jon murmured. “I noticed it too. I just didn’t know how to fix it.”

“You could’ve started with a text.”

“Scary stuff,” he joked. “But you’re right. I should’ve.”

Ciera hugged one knee to her chest, the phone pressed close to her ear.

“I always wondered if I made that night up, you know?” she said quietly.

“What night?”

“The dance. Eighth grade.”

“Oh, I think about that night all the time.”

Her breath caught.

“You do?”

Jon’s voice dipped, softer now. “Of course. You were the only thing I could think about after. We almost kissed, remember?”

“I remember,” she whispered. “And then Sadé came outta nowhere.”

“I was this close,” he said with a smirk in his voice. “And she just—”

“Ruined everything.”

He laughed. “Exactly.”

Ciera bit her lip. “If she hadn’t interrupted, would you have actually done it?”

“Kissed you?”

“Yeah.”

There was no hesitation this time. “Absolutely.”

Her stomach flipped.

They were quiet for a few seconds, the weight of their unspoken history stretching out between them. Every memory—every laugh, tease, and almost-kiss—suddenly felt brand new.

“So,” Jon said eventually, his voice teasing again, “are you ready to stop pretending you don’t like me?”

Ciera groaned, burying her face in her pillow. “God, you’re annoying.”

“But cute.”

She muffled her laugh. “Debatable.”

“Please. You used to write my name in your notebook.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Sadé told me.”

“She’s dead to me.”

Jon’s laugh filled her ear again. “So… you gonna go out with me or not?”

Ciera exhaled, heart fluttering like a damn hummingbird. “You’re really not gonna drop this, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, debating. She’d spent years watching him from a distance, wondering if he still thought about her. And now, here he was, asking for her time—her attention—like he finally saw what they could’ve been all along.

“Alright,” she said at last. “One date.”

“One?”

“Don’t push it.”

“Can I pick you up Friday?”

She blinked. “You already had a day in mind?”

“Girl, I’ve had this planned since eighth grade.”

Ciera laughed, leaning back again, letting herself sink into the moment.

“Friday’s fine,” she said.

There was a pause on his end—like even he couldn’t believe she said yes.

“I’m holding you to that.”

“You better.”

They talked a while longer, about stupid things—teachers they couldn’t stand, Sadé’s loud laugh, how Joshua always tried to outshine him. But underneath every word was that same electricity, that same easy connection that never really left.

Eventually, her mom knocked and told her to get ready for bed. They said goodnight reluctantly.

“Sleep good,” he said.

“You too, Fatu.”

He hesitated before hanging up. “Hey, Ciera?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really glad you picked up.”

She smiled. “Me too.”

And when she finally lay down to sleep, her phone still warm in her hand, she knew something had changed.

For real this time.

VIP TAGLIST : @wrestlingprincess80 @whatdoeseverybodywant @pr0tost4r @paigereeder @alyyaanna @raya-hunter01 @mzv11 @trippinsorrows @partypoison00 @isabella-2025 @jstarr86 @chrisevanswife0405 @fearlesschimera @cyberdejos2 @whowrotethenote @potatosackk @ajaxcleaningsupplies @sayyestoheav3nn @chasssssworld @christinabae @glittergirl7 @itskii01 @fame-ass-ers @li-da-savage @ashykneee @kianaleani @holisticcoach @pittieprincess22 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @amandairene88 @luvrsluxe @venusesworld @norababora @callmekayd @chrissyxcxox @keyera-jackson @wabi-sabi1090 @psiloveyOu @baybehkay @nybearsworld @transparentphantomface @sassginaswanmills @fafomama @wooahmiri @mackfinstathrowitback @ariiaeltheedonn @bratzzzdoll @m00nlitnight

[heystays]

I believe in love <3

Joe Hendry x reader fanfic 

You had only just slipped out of the shower when your phone buzzed for the third time in a row, lighting up with *Trinity FaceTime* across the screen. You smiled.

Trinity Fatu, your go-to gal, glam queen, and occasional travel partner has been reaching out to you for a bit. She and Jonathan just finished filming their latest project and are finally back in Florida, enjoying some well-deserved chill time.

You hit *accept*your towel still wrapped around yourself.

“Girl!” Trinity's bright voice filled the room, her grin wide as ever. “There she is! I’ve been trying to track you down for so long, where have you been?!”

You laughed, reaching for your brush as you sat in front of your vanity. “I know, I know. I’ve been meaning to call-just been busy with… stuff.”

“Mhm, *stuff*Trinity repeated, her eyebrows raised. “Is that why you’re glowing right now? Don’t think I didn’t notice that little smile when you picked up.”

You tried to play it cool, brushing your hair with forced nonchalance. “What smile?”

“That one!” she said pointing at you through the screen. “Don’t play with me.” “What’s going on? And don’t you dare say ‘nothing’ . I've seen that look “I’m being cute for someone look before.”

You shrugged, heart fluttering a little. “Maybe I’ve been on a few dates…”

Trinity gasped dramatically. “Excuse me?! DATES? And you didn’t tell me? Who is he???

Before you could answer, a voice called out from your living room- low, deep, unmistakably Scottish. “Do you want your coffee black or with oat milk?”

You froze

Trinity’s eyes went wide, and she leaned in so close to the screen her eyelashes brushed her phone. “Hold. On. A. Damn. Minute. Was that JOE HENDRY?”

You panicked, looking off screen, then back at her. “Oh, is that the time? Gotta go! Talk soon, love you!”

And with that, you hung up. 

—-------------------------------

TWITTER @Trinity\_Fatu

Okay but y’all tell me why I just facetimed my girl and I SWEAR I heard Joe Hendry’s voice in the background. This about to be a *wild* moment.

Twitter @WrestleTeaOfficial**

Did y’all catch @Trinity\_Fatu’s tweet?

>Reader looking *extra* fine lately

>A mysterious voice in the background

>That voice? Pretty sure that’s Joe “I believe” Hendry 

>Is this a new power couple or what? 

TIKTOK: @wrestlingconspiracyqueen 

>The way she SMILED, when she said “just been busy…”

>Cue the romantic edits, besties- we’re shipping this.

—----------------------

You hadn’t meant for it to blow up. Truly. You weren’t even trying to keep it a secret- just trying to enjoy it. Quietly.

Joe had asked you out after a mutual appearance at a UK WWE event six months ago. What started out as coffee turned into hours of conversation, late night facetimes, and eventually, frequent flights across the Atlantic. He was witty, grounded, absolutely charming, and when he looked at you, it was like he already knew everything about you. 

He brought calm to your chaos.

But social media?

Social media was chaos incarnate.

So you both agreed to keep it offline for as long as you could.

That lasted until Trinity accidently soft launched you like an Iphone update

—--------------------------

You sat on the couch later that night, your phone blowing up with notifications. Joe walked over and plopped down beside you, handling you your now cold coffee. 

“Well” he said, watching your screen light up with #JoeandY/N trending worldwide. “I suppose the cat’s out of the bag.”

You turned to him, eyes wide. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to- I didn’t even say anything!” 

He smirked. “You didn’t have to. Apparently, my voice is quite distinct.”

You giggled, setting your phone aside and curling up beside him. “We don’t have to confirm anything if you don’t want to.”

Joe leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “I believe in a lot of things,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “But mostly, I believe in you.”

You melted. Every single time, he said it like he meant it. Like it wasn’t just a catchphrase. Like you were worth believing in. 

“Screw it,” you whispered a quick selfie of you both, his arm draped over your shoulder, his signature grin next to your bashful smile, and posted it with one simple caption:

**@YourUsername**

>I believe in soft launches…  but I believe in *him* more.

#JoeandY/N #Ibelieveinlove

—--------------------

**Twitter replies**

@wrestlingfan86:

>THEY’RE OFFICIAL I’M SOBBING 

@KayfaveKween99:

>This is the cutest plot twist in WWE history and I’m counting on it.

@JoeHendryStanClub: 

>He believed in himself… and bagged a queen. Iconic.

—-------------

Later that night, as you both cuddled on the couch, watching TikToks about your “secret relationship”, Joe chuckled softly.

“You know, I always thought I will go viral for a different reason.. Not for stealing a goddess.”

You smiled, placing a kiss on his cheek. “You didn’t steal me, I chose you.”

His expression softened “Then I believe I’m the luckiest man alive.”

—--------------

My first fanfic, please be kind

Plus we need more Joe Hendry fics!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[jonnywaistcoat]

Hi Jonny, if you don't mind I have a question about the TMA TTRPG! So I noticed that on the player's guide there's this guy, who my friends and I assumed is probably Jon. If it is him, is this a canon design, or more like some of the non-canon stuff that's in the merch?

So, I hope you don't mind if i use this ask to go a bit off on one. I'm not specifically dragging you (I'm actualy glad you asked, as I've thinking about posting on the topic), but all the discussion around the RPG art and how "official" or "canon" it might be is, to my mind, slightly silly.

First up, is it "official" art? I mean, yeah, its art for the officially licenced Magnus Archives RPG. This means Monte Cook Games have commissioned someone to do a beatiful illustration broadly based on some aspect, episode or character from the podcast and it goes in the book. But that's kinda all it means. "Official" is a legal distinction, not an artistic one. The fact that it's in an official product doesn't make it any less one artist's cool interpretation of a character that has only been vaguely described in audio.

Second, is it Jonathan Sims the Archivist? I mean, it's probably based on the idea of him, but it's certainly not set in stone. When we were first discussing art with MCG, we advised that character pictures be more vibes-based and not explicitly tied to specific people (ie. a portrait inspired by Tim wouldn't be captioned "This is Tim" and wouldn't be placed opposite a profile for Tim Stoker, archival assistant.) This was mainly because we wanted the artists to have plenty of freedom to interpret and not feel too tied down by the need to know everything about the podcast. But, to be frank, it was also because we know that there are a few fans out there that are kinda Not Chill about what they've personally decided these characters look like and can get a bit defensive over depictions that differ.

It strikes me as particularly strange to be having this discussion about art that's for a roleplying game book. Something that's explicitly and solely designed to give you the ability to play in your version of the Magnus universe. The idea that this is the thing where we'd for some reason try to immutably establish unchangable appearances for these characters would be pretty funny if some folks weren't taking it so seriously. Similarly ridiculous is the idea we could reasonably have said to MCG "We'd love for you to make a huge beautiful RPG book of our setting... Just make sure you don't depict any of the iconic characters or events from it!"

But... is it "canon"? Now, to my mind, this highlights a real weakness in a lot of fandom thinking around "canon", which is that it generally has no idea what to do with adaptations. All adaptation is interpretation, and relies on taking a work and letting new creatives (and sometimes the same ones) have a different take on it. Are the appearances of the Fellowship of the Ring in the LOTR movies "canon"? How much, if at all, does that matter? Neil Gaiman's book Neverwhere was originaly a 90s BBC series made with a budget of 50 pence; is anyone who makes fanart of Mr Croup that doesn't look like the actor Hywel Bennet breaking canon? What about the novel that describes the character differently? Or the officially licenced Neverwhere comic where he looks like neither of them? Which is his "canon appearance"?

Canon is an inherently messy concept, and while it is useful for a creative team trying to keep continuity and consistency within a creative work, for thinking about anything beyond that it tends to be more hinderance than help.

Anyway, all this is to say that the above picture and all the others in the RPG are exactly as canon as every other picture you've ever seen of the Archivist.

[moosesarecute]

December 17th

December Masterlist

Masterlist

Her day had gone to exploring her home. She had been all over trying to find something that might restart her memory, but she couldn’t.

The toys she played with as a child, the kitchen she and her mother baked in and the library where she spent most of her time. None of them gave her any clues of her life before.

It gave Annette an uneasy feeling.

She felt alone and scared. The people who called themselves her family were nice enough, but she couldn’t trust them completely yet.

She and Cathrine, her mother, had been talking the entire day. She had been stroking Annette’s hair and told them about their life. She spoke about how Annette was adopted. That while it was usual for fae to struggle getting children, Cathrine and Bru just couldn’t live without a child.

When she was first born and sent to an orphanage, it didn’t take long before they found her and knew she was the one. Cathrine cried talking about it.

Her mother at least cared about her, Annette concluded with. Nothing to be worried about with her. The rest of her family had kept a bigger distance. Cathrine said it was to not overwhelm her.

When night arrived, Cathrine tucked Annette into bed. She told her to make sure she stayed worm and gave her some of her medicine. It tasted just as bad as before, but she got it down.

However, when Cathrine left, Annette didn’t feel like sleeping.

She quietly stood up from the bed and started to explore her room a little more. She looked at the books and toys and yarn, but she felt no connection to it. She found more of her stuff in boxes stored under her bed. She went through each and every one-off them, but didn’t find anything particularly interesting until the last box.

It had a backpack in it. It looked well made and sturdy. But it also looked like it had been used a lot. Maybe this was the backpack she used when she last was out on her adventures? She knew it was hers. She didn’t know why, but she just knew it.

She opened the backpack and found many bottles of red liquid and a pile of paper. She picked of the papers first. One piece of paper was folded around the others. She read it first:

Winterberry juice for memory loss. Drink as much as you can every day.

And some reading for the journey. Hope you find what you need in these letters.

Good luck,

Nick

Annette decided to drink the juice. It tasted amazing. Both sweet and tangy from the berry. She drank some of it and then picked up the rest of the pile of papers. She picked up the first one. It was covered in tearstains, but other than that it was beautiful. The handwriting was precise and carefully done. Annette started reading.

My dearest Y/N,

It’s been over three years. This is the third December without you, and it haven’t become easier.

Rhys and Cass are forcing me to go to therapy. My therapist, Jonathan, suggested I write you letters, so that’s what I’m doing.

You have missed so much, my light. Both Rhys and Cass have found their mates. Their names are Feyre and Nesta. They are sisters and used to be human, but that’s a story too long for letters. I promise I’ll explain all to you when if you come back to me. Feyre was the girl that saved all of Prythian from Amarantha. Rhys made her his High Lady and they even have a son, Nyx. And Nesta and some of her friends have become Valkyries. She and Cassian are always at each other’s throats, but they love each other. You would have loved them too, I’m sure of it.

Mor and Amren have also found their loves. Which means I’m constantly surrounded by couples.

I’m happy for them, I truly am, but I can’t help but feel like it’s a little unfair. Why do we have to be apart?

I miss you, my love. I honestly feel lost in this world without you. I’ve been counting days since you disappeared, and each day feels heavier on my heart.

The shadows also miss you. They have never been as poorly behaved as now. Some days I wake up from them screaming to get you back, other days they refuse to listen or talk to me.

All our memories together are what keeps me going, but I’m not sure how much longer I’ll last in this life without you. I need your soft smiles and warm embrace to get me through this. I know I won’t, but deep down I still have hope that I’ll be able to hold you once again. Hold you, and never let go.

I love you, Y/N. I have loved you all my life and I will keep loving you till the day my soul no longer exists.

x Your Shadow

The first thing Annette noticed was that she really wanted to know what happened to Y/N and who her shadow was. The second thing was that she felt sort of connected to the names. Rhys, Cassian, Mor and Amren felt like names she knew. Feyre and Nesta, she didn’t feel connected to, but from the way they were written about in the letters, she knew that they were kind.

Annette wasted no time picking up the next letter It was also covered in tearstains. It seemed like most of them were.

My dearest Y/N,

Jo asked me today to write about what our life would be like.

And even though I did like he asked, it only brought out painful emotions. I hate having to imagine this. I want it to be true. To be our real life.

I wanted us to buy a house. A house where we can make our own home. So that we can choose everything ourselves.

I wanted us to have a family. We never spoke about kids. Both of us knew that a war was coming and that we would need to go through a lifetime of terror before we could bring babes into this world.

I want us to fly together. Fly to work, fly to family dinner, fly as exercise, fly as fun. Flying have always been when I’ve felt the freest and I know you feel similar, but without you beside me, it feels wrong. So wrong. I have multiple times thrown up from flying without you.

I want us to be happy.

I want us to fight, and argue, and laugh, and cry, and smile. I want it all.

Please come back to me.

x Your Shadow

My dearest Y/N

I think therapy is helping a little.

I thought about you yesterday without crying. Do you remember our first dance? Not our first as a couple, but our first one ever?

Sneaking around in the woods behind Windhaven and dancing to the song from the shadows swirling around us. Our feet making the snow crunch beneath us.

If only the bond had snapped earlier or if I was just a little braver. I would have danced with you every moment I could. You deserve to be danced with you too. I’m glad we’re not longer in Windhaven. You deserved so much better than that camp.

You’re my princess. You should dance around in the ballgowns you make, but no, you always sold away the most beautiful ones.

I still dream about the blue gown you wore on your first Starfall as a couple. I wish I could see you in it again some time.

x Your Shadow

My dearest Y/N

I think the time has come. I’ve finally gone crazy. I felt you. I’m sure I did. But I couldn’t get to you. Please tell me where you are so that I can get you home. Please tell me.

Are you out there?

x Your Shadow

My dearest Y/N

Family dinner is hard without you. I always imagine you sitting besides me and it gets a little better.

Cassian spilled soup all over the floor yesterday. That’s nothing unusual, but it was all over a new carpet Feyre just bought. Feyre was about to become very angry when Nyx started laughing louder than ever before. Cassian is now Nyx’s favourite person.

I’m convinced that if Nyx knew you, you would outrank Cassian very quickly. I don’t know how much he knows about his auntie Y/N, but I know you would be the best aunt he could ever wish for. I’ll start telling him more about you when I can talk about you without crying.

x Your Shadow

My dearest Y/N

The shadows miss you too. They’ve been trying to braid my hair lately. It’s like they miss helping you with yours. I don’t think they understand that you’re gone forever. It’s like they’re in denial. It’s not that different from what I’m doing, but still, they shouldn’t have these complex feelings. I wish I would tell them that you’ll be back soon.

Sometimes the only thing they do is to scream in my head. I think they believe too that you’re out there, but I just can’t get my hopes up. Please give me or the shadows a sign and we’ll be there. I promise.

x Your Shadow

Annette was crying now. The letters were so full of grief she just wanted to hug this Shadow and tell him that everything would be alright.

She drank a little more of the winterberry juice. As she gulped it down, she felt her head grow lighter.

My dearest Y/N

It’s snowing. A lot. It’s like the sky is falling down in white. I can almost image you running around with your snow-zoomies. It’s like my entire body just expects you to sneak up behind me and dump way too much snow on me. The shadows have tried to do it, but it just isn’t the same.

Nyx spoke about the Winter Lights today. He told us that a friend from his kindergarten had painted them. I left the room before anyone continued speaking. I haven’t seen the lights since you left. It used to be such a good memory, but now it only brings pain. Our first kiss, my love. Under the Winter Lights after everyone else had gone inside. You always insisted to watch them until they had danced finished.

Maybe I’ll try to do that this year. I’ll do my best.

x Your Shadow

Imagine having your first kiss together under the Winter Lights. Annette’s heart melted at the thought. It felt right. She would love to experience that.

Annette picked up the last letter. It was filled with even more tearstains than the others. She drank the rest of the winterberry juice before she started to read.  

My dearest Y/N,

I have understood now that I must let you go.

Madja and Jonathan believe you might me out there, but I won’t survive if I get my hopes up now only for them to be crushed once more. I want to, but I just can’t. It’s too much.

My sweet, beautiful, amazing, wonderful, thoughtful mate. I love you so much and it hurts so much to have to do this, but it’s what you would have wanted.

I’m going to try to make this a good Winter Solstice. I’m going to keep our traditions alive. I’m going to make a snowfae, I’m going to have the snowball fight and I’m going to make cookies and hot chocolate to stay on the counter every second of every day. I’m going to try my absolute best to be happy. Even if you aren’t here to see it.

I don’t think I can go to see Jonathan any longer. Even though therapy has helped, I think Jonathan is wrong for me. I’ll se if I can find anyone else after Winter Solstice, but right now I need a break.

I’m also going to take a break from these letters. I might start with them again soon, but for right now, I need to put you behind me. I hope this is the best decision, but I have no idea what I’m doing.

My dearest Y/N. I will forever long for the life he had planned. I will forever sit with the feeling that half of my heart is yet to come home.

x Azriel, I’ll always be your shadow

It was his name that did it. His beautiful and kind name. The name you had grown that fond of throughout your life.

It was the name that made you smile, cry and feel safe all at once. It was a name that brought you so many emotions that you didn’t know how to act.

It was the name of your person.

Because you knew now that you aren’t Annette, 254 years old from the continent.

You are Y/N, 540 years old from Windhaven, and last but definitely not least. You are Y/N the proud mate of Azriel Shadowsinger.

Taglist: @prettylittlewrites @hailqueenconquer @onebadassunicorn @mich0731 @tele86 @mellowmusings @anarchiii @anainkandpaper @donnadiddadog @atomictyphoonkitten @annablack @graciepies @salvatoresister1 @nastylicious @plants-w0rld @stqrgirlies-blog @scoliobean

Let me know if you want to be added!

Dividers by: @issysh3ll

[louloulemons-posts]

Metal Head Cuddles

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Word Count : 1.7k

Warnings : not proofread, swears, shitty parents(reader), vecna stuff did happen, petnames, it’s just a load of fluff.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Meeting-hug :

Being Robins Buckleys cousin was great, moving in with her and her dad was also great. Your family wasn’t fantastic, but Robin and your uncle were.

“Are you sure it was okay for me to tag along? I could always go back and chill with Uncle Rich.”

“Come on Y/N, i know you wanna get out of it, but everyone will love you”.

“Only if you’re sure.”

“I’m 100% sure, now come on let’s go in.” You were at Robins friends, Steve, house, apparently they’d become best friends a couple years back.

Working at an ice cream shop together, you’d had a job of your own when you lived in Chicago, it had allowed you to move to Hawkins and not look back. An old music shop that was getting more and more popular by the day.

Harringtons house was nice, Robin said his parents had a good job, but weren’t around a lot. There was music and laughter as you walked into the house.

“Don’t be nervous, they’ll love you.” Robin linked your arms and you walked into the garden. “Buckley!” A voice called out as you left the house. “Harrington.”

A boy jogged up to you, floppy hair bouncing as he came. “Ah you must be Y/N, Robins said a lot about you. I’m Steve.”

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you.” He gave you a welcoming hug.

“I’ll get you guys a drink, beer?” he asked.

“Y/Ns driving,” Robin spoke.

“Lemonade?”

“Lemonades great thanks.”

“Come on let’s meet the others.” Your cousin waved over at some younger people. “Y/N, this is Dustin, Will, Mike, El, Lucas and Max.”

“It’s nice to meet you all.”

“Ahh so you’re Robins mystery cousin,” the curly haired boy said.

“The one and only,” you shrugged.

“It’s good to meet you anyways,” A red haired girl spoke, her eyes were glazed and you spotted a white cane, along with the hold she had on the boys arm beside her.

“And you guys.”

“Come on let’s meet the lovebirds.” Robin led you away to two teens who looked your age. “This is Nancy and Jonathan, guys this is my cousin Y/N.”

“Hey it’s great to meet you,” the girl spoke, standing to give you a squeeze.

“And you.”

“Where’s Munson?” Robin asked.

“Late as always,” Jonathan joked. On that note loud metal music was heard. “Speak of the devil,” Jonathan chuckled.

A few moments later a man with unruly hair came wandering in, his footsteps heavy and loud. He wore a large grin, dancing across his mouth as he took the younger curly haired boy hugged him.

The hug of a brother, Steve walked past, handing him a beer like it was a breath. He made his way over to us, handing me a cup full of lemonade and Robin her own bottle of booze.

“You been introduced to everyone?” Steve asked. “Pretty much, just not,” I motioned over to the man who was not letting out a cackle.

“Oh, hang on,” Steve paused for a second, because calling out the man’s name, “Eddie, come here man.” You heard him mutter something like, ‘Oh no already in trouble,’ to the younger kids, making them laugh.

He jogged over to us, taking a swig of his drink. “Hey guys,” he smiled, taking in everyone’s face when he finally landed on mine. His chocolate eyes met my gaze.

“Eddie this is Y/N, Robins cousin from Chicago,” Steve explained.

“Oh cool, nice to meet you,” he said, pulling you into a half hug.

You hand landed on his lower back in greeting as his kept his, respectfully on the middle of yours. “And you, Robins told me all about you guys,” I said to the group.

“Oh no, what’s she said?” Steve groaned.

“Nothing that isn’t true Dingus.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Random-Encounter Hug :

Pushing the cart through the aisle, I grabbed a couple veggies here and there, planning on making, yet another, thank you meal for Robin and my uncle.

After placing the tomato’s and peppers in the cart I looked back up, spotting a newly familiar figure. Grabbing the last few things I needed from this section I sped up, “Hey Eddie.”

The boy whirled round to look at me, “Y/N, hey, how are you?” He asked, instantly pulling me into a large hug, giving me a gentle squeeze.

“I’m good, just getting bits and pieces.”

“Same here, I’m want to make my uncle a nice meal for his birthday, but don’t tell anyone,” he leant down so he was closer to your ear, “I can’t really cook.”

Letting out a laugh, I smiled at the boy, “If you want I can help you?”

“You cook?”

“I do indeed, give me your number and we can figure out a recipe, go through everything step by step.”

“Really?”

“Sure, what does he like to eat?”

“Anything we eat out of cans a lot.”

“Does he like steak?”

“Sure.”

I motioned for him to follow me, pushing the cart and coming to a halt by the steaks and other various meat. Getting a small, cheap, but still a beautiful cut, I handed it to Eddie.

“Does he like mash potatoes?”

“Yeah.” I quickly grabbed some of them, and then some green beans. Eddie pulled a face at that, “Does he not like them?

“Oh he loves them, I do not,” his face scrunched.

“They’re not that bad I promise, cook them

in butter and seasoning.” The boy hummed, instantly trusting your words.

He stayed to help you with your own shopping, helping you take the bags to your car, holding his own. “Thank you for the help,” he said, “It was nice to see you again.”

“And you. Remember call me when you’re cooking, I’ll talk you through it all.” The boy gave you a smile, and pulled you into a sweet hug. Arms enclosing around your body, holding you close.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Exhaustion Hug :

You’d gone out for the day with Robin, Nancy, Steve, Jonathan and Eddie. Not sleeping well the night before after a screaming phone call from your mother, you were so tired.

“You okay?” Robin whispered.

“Oh yeah, just a bit sleepy. I’ll be fine.” You’d be on a long walk, wondering around shops, just having fun doing what people would consider mundane.

Eddie walked in front chatting away with Steve, Robin jumped into conversation with them, whilst Jonathan and Nancy led the group hand in hand.

Staying a few steps behind, you rubbed your eyes again. Not realising the group had stopped you bumped into Eddies back. “Shit sorry Eds.”

Turning to look at you, he smiled softly at your sleepy state. “It’s okay, you good?”

“Yeah just tired.” He nodded, humming, “Well we can’t have that can we.”

He turned back around and got low, “Hop on,” he said simply.

“What?”

“Get on my back.”

“Eddie no-“

“Y/N,” he said turning his face to you, “Please.” Well you couldn’t say no to that.

Wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, Eddie stood, holding underneath your thighs. “Comfy?”

“Mhm.” My face rested on his shoulder.

“Come on then, let go,” he walked with ease, as if he wasn’t carrying an extra weight. I felt so comfortable there, with him holding me, that my face nuzzled into his neck, breathing him in.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Anything for you.”

…

“Oh he’s so into her,” Steve said, watching the boy carry the sleepy girl. “Him into her? You don’t understand how much she talks about him. I swear Eddie coming today is the only reason she’s here,” Robin laughed.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Recharging Cuddles :

You don’t really know how it happened, but it was natural as anything. You and Eddie started dating, much to his Uncle Wayne’s joy.

Stood in the small kitchen in their new trailer, you were cooking a breakfast for Eddie and yourself, Wayne had already headed out for the day.

Feeling arms come around your waist and a face nuzzle into your neck, his curls tickled in their sleepy state. “Where did you go?” He said, voice laced with sleep.

“Making us breakfast Eds.”

“You weren’t there when I woke up.”

“Sorry baby, I just wanted to make you something.”

“You’re too sweet,” he spoke, placing a sweet kiss under your ear. “It’s almost ready, why don’t you sit at the table?”

He whined, “Wanna stay with you.”

“Okay sleepy boy,” With a free hand you rubbed his own that connected around your waist.

“Thank you.”

“Never have to thank me baby.” The boy remained attached to you the rest of the time you cooked, sliding you onto his lap as you ate.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Reunion hugs :

It had been two whole weeks since you’d seen Eddie, yourself, Robin and your uncle had been on vacation. Not even thinking about unpacking you jumped in your car and drove over to Eddies.

The trailer park was hit with sun, bright days becoming more common, the people of Hawkins soaking in the rays.

That was including your favourite boy, of course wearing jeans, black and ripped and a tank top. Some of his scars were on display but the large ones that covered his torso were hidden by the material.

Parking up, you climbed out of the car with ease. “Hey you,” you called as you walked over to him. “Oh my god”, he laughed, pushing off the stairs of the trailer and running to you.

Without a second thought your feet were off the ground, arms around his neck, he lifted you up and held you close. “I missed you so fucking much.” Hands going to his hair, you giggled, “I missed you too baby.”

“Never go away again,” he mumbled into your neck.

“Where’s my hug miss?” you heard another voice speak. “Wayne,” I smiled Eddie let me hop down from his hold and walk over to the older man. He took he in his arms and gave me a squeeze.

“Thank goodness you’re back, I couldn’t deal with anymore moping from this boy,” he motioned to Eddie. “Wayne,” he whined, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling your back to his chest.

“But seriously never leave me again.”

“Don’t plan on it.” He kissed the top of your head, holding you tighter.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A/N : well hello it’s been a while, life’s been kinda crazy lately, so writings been the last thing on my mind. Hopefully I’ll be back to it soon, but I’m not gonna push myself, hope you guys understand.

All the love 🤍

- Lou