#learning to ask for attention/help is hard and it's okay to have trouble doing that

[uncanny-tranny]

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This is a tangentially-related rant, and not to be That Guy, but I honestly don't see anything wrong with this other than I wish we taught people how to ask for attention, and didn't judge people for doing so

I don't want to assume things for anybody, but something I've noticed is that people are afraid to ask for attention, for fear of being seen as "annoying," "desperate," "needy." But humans aren't an island. We need each other. It's scary that so many people have it in their heads that asking for attention is horrible, that so many of us were taught that asking for attention is awful.

The need for attention isn't bad at all. I think we need to go about teaching people how to do so.

The need for attention is so demonized, and it's really scary to me. While people don't do things (like self-harm) inherently for attention or inherently for a specific person's attention, it also wouldn't be like... a horrific crime that's as bad as stealing.

Like obviously the whole "they're just doing [x] for attention!" is completely asinine because humans are social creatures who need attention to some capacity, but also... in your narrative, does everybody do things specifically for your attention? When somebody does something drastic or shocking, is it not because they're desperate for help but just because they crave your attention specifically? Does the sun rise and set at your command as well?

[ckret2]

Chapter 58 of human Bill Cipher in a quantum uncertainty state between being and not being the Mystery Shack's prisoner:

Everything you've wondered about how Bill survived his execution.

Let's rewind a couple of days.

####

Friday, 11:00 p.m.

"Welp," Mabel said, "I've got the rest of summer to try to get the whole story out of him! Goodnight, Dipper!"

Dipper's stomach flipped with guilt. "Yeah." The rest of summer. Mabel left for Portland in the morning. "Goodnight."

He lay down, pulled his sheet back up, and stared at the ceiling.

####

Friday, 11:04 p.m.

It took less than five minutes before the guilt won.

Yeah, no, nope, nuh-uh, Dipper couldn't do this. Not to his sister. He rolled over and hissed, "Psss, hey. Mabel."

"Hm?"

"Listen," Dipper said. "I hate Bill, okay, but I care about you, and also I think Bill might be part of a prophecy, so, because of that—I... There's something I need to tell you."

####

11:15 p.m.

Bill hadn't even had time to start dreaming before something dragged his mind back into the waking world.

There were white points of light as he passed through the hazy twilight of half-sleep. Those lights were his eyes. Lately, every time he started to wake up, he'd been seeing his eyes in the distance.

This time, there was one right in front of him, so bright it almost blinded him. He thought he could see something in the light.

He touched it.

And then he woke up, laying on his cushion bed as usual, watching as Mabel slid out of her room, crept near, and knelt beside him. She shook his shoulder. "Hey, Bill. Wake up."

And then he woke up—which was strange, considering he'd just done that—and stared at the dark inside of his hoodie.

He pushed back his hood. There was Mabel, crouched next to him, just like he'd "dreamed." Huh. Well done, Cipher, it seems you've just learned a new trick.

He tamped down his excitement; he could figure out what to do with this trick later. For now, he had a higher priority. "'Sup, kid?" He pushed himself up on an elbow, roughly flipping his hair out of his hood so it wouldn't keep tickling and choking around his neck. "It's the middle of the night." He yawned and mumbled, "Not that it makes a difference to me, but..."

"Shhh! We've gotta stay quiet," Mabel whispered. "I need to get you out of here. They're gonna kill you."

He sat bolt upright. "All right," he said. "You have my attention."

####

Dipper refused to say how, but according to him they'd synthesized just enough fuel for one shot with their fancy quantum whatever gun, and they couldn't make any more. They planned to execute Bill once Mabel was gone.

Mabel could just open a door for Bill and let him escape in the middle of the night—but that had dangers of its own. Bill would have to travel to a hiding place on foot—and his shoes were crap for hiking—his feet were also crap for hiking—and he'd only have until the adults started waking up and realized he was gone. Even if he kept moving all night, the adults would probably be able to cover the same amount of ground in a couple of hours, he'd probably inadvertently leave a trail a mile wide, and the forest's local supernatural population would definitely snitch if one of the Stans asked if they'd seen anything.

Plus, it wouldn't be very hard for the adults to figure out that Dipper had cracked and Mabel had helped Bill escape, and then everyone was in hot water.

They needed a way to cover Bill's escape to make it harder for the adults to pick up his trail, to give him as much time as possible to get some distance from the shack, and to delay Mabel getting in trouble. ("And Dipper," Mabel said. "Sure," Bill said unenthusiastically.)

But if they could, it would be best if they found a way to ensure the adults never even thought to look for Bill, Mabel never got in trouble at all, and the Quantum Destabilizer could never be fired again.

It was possible, Bill said. It wasn't guaranteed, but it was possible. They had a good chance. A very good chance. In fact, never mind, he'd decided it was guaranteed, they'd pull this off easily.

All they had to do was fake his death.

He knew a way.

####

11:45 p.m.

Dipper was stirred out of a drowsy near-sleep by the door creaking open and a couple sets of footsteps shuffling in. He rolled over and squinted across the room.

Mabel was quietly collecting craft supplies—pens, papers, her small starter sewing kit she used for repairs. Bill climbed into the loft to grab some musty pillows and blankets that had been stored for years in a cardboard box.

"Mabel?" Dipper mumbled.

Mabel put a finger over her lips. "Hey Dipper," she whispered. "You can go back to sleep, we'll be up in the loft."

"Doing what?"

"Scheme-y stuff. Don't worry about it." She flung her arms around Dipper, whispered, "Thank you," and ran across the room to grab her backpack and the height-altering flashlight.

Dipper glanced toward the loft. Bill was waiting at the top of the ladder, a dark vaguely-triangular silhouette, only his eyes visible as they reflected the dim light like a cat's. Dipper had had more nightmares than he could remember about waking to find Bill hovering in the dark above him.

Bill's gaze flicked from watching Mabel to staring at Dipper. They made eye contact. Bill didn't say anything.

Then Mabel climbed up the ladder, supply-stuffed backpack slung over her shoulders. Bill gave Dipper one last silent look, then turned away to follow Mabel to the back of the loft.

Dipper rolled over and tried to fall back asleep.

####

The plan was to create a dummy that looked like Bill to take the Quantum Destabilizer's shot in his place, while the real Bill got as far from the shack as the weirdness barrier around town would allow.

Bill told Mabel that the dummy didn't need to be complicated: he had an enchantment that could make it completely convincing. All he had to do was write out a spell and leave the paper over the dummy, and anyone who looked at it would be convinced it was really him in the flesh.

Similarly, sneaking Bill out of the shack didn't need to be complicated. They could shrink Bill down and stick him in Mabel's backpack, and all she'd have to do was come up with an excuse to get out of the car and set him free before they left town. 

The hard part would be the choreography of the whole thing. They needed Bill to put in an appearance that morning, to prove it really was him walking around; and then go somewhere that Mabel could hide him away without anybody noticing; and then ensure that nobody would see the Bill dummy until they were safely out of range, just in case. "The enchantment's pretty good," Bill said, "but the more people see it and the longer they get to look at it, the less potent it gets. And all it'll do is make the dummy look like me—it won't be able to walk and talk. It's best if the only person who gets a good look at it is my executioner."

The word executioner made Mabel shudder. It would probably be Ford, wouldn't it? She knew he thought he was doing the right thing. She knew it wasn't the first time he'd tried to destroy Bill. She knew she'd been fine with it last summer. She even knew that Bill would be okay. But all the same, she wasn't sure how she'd look at Ford the same way.

Once they had the dummy set up somewhere away from the family's prying eyes, they had to discourage everyone from trying to approach "Bill" until they were ready to kill him. And, ideally—just in case the executioner tried to speak to Bill or the enchantment otherwise failed—they should stage it all in a way so that no one would think Mabel had been involved in the escape plan.

The solution was obvious.

"I live to cause drama for no reason," Bill said. "I upset mortals recreationally. Can you act?"

"Can I act? Pshhh!" Mabel flipped a hand dismissively. "Maybe you were too busy badly impersonating my brother to watch, but last year I kind of staged an entire puppet show performing and singing as every character."

So it was a plan: they would stage a fight.

They were sitting in the very back of the attic loft, behind stacks of forgotten boxes and abandoned junk, beneath the meager light of the loft's window. Bill didn't need the light. He had a pen and paper and was writing out his enchantment's spell while they talked, long lines of inscrutable text. It was so dark that Mabel couldn't even see what language he was writing in, but that was fine; Bill had said that if she read his spell—if anyone read it—it would break the enchantment.

"Whoops," Bill said, "yeah, afraid I missed your whole show! I was too busy backstage trying to avoid your friends and looking for a way onto the catwalk."

Mabel shook her head in disapproval. "You would have liked it. There were live pyrotechnics and lasers and fog machines and a giant tentacle monster war and seventy-four songs and puppets!"

"I'll admit, sounds like a killer show. How about gore?"

"There was a whole song about my love interest getting his legs chewed off in the war," Mabel said. "The sock puppets don't have legs, but everyone knows your own imagination is a lot scarier than anything you actually see."

This kid could have a brilliant artistic career as a serial killer. "That's familiar. Is this war based on that 'cats versus the giant octopus' dream you keep having?"

"Yeah, and you'd have known that if you'd actually watched the opera! Too bad you missed the whole thing," Mabel said. "I guess you were just too busy being evil to appreciate the simple joys of a good, clean, non-villainous puppet show."

"Oh no, I can't believe my actions have consequences," Bill said flatly. "What would I ever have done if you hadn't enlightened me."

"Died, probably."

Bill glared.

"You know! Like you did last summer? As a consequence of your—"

"You shush."

Bill shoved Mabel away when she started to laugh, and held the enchantment up between their faces so he didn't have to look at her. He read his work over, then folded the paper in half and half again. "Hey, maybe you can put on an encore presentation sometime." Bill carefully inscribed four symbols in a square on the folded paper. "I promise I'll laugh at the jokes and fake cry at the sad parts."

Mabel shuddered. "No way. I'm never touching that show again. Too many bad memories."

"Awww, how come?"

Mabel stared at Bill.

Bill said, "Oh, right."

"Yeah," Mabel said coldly. "Thanks."

Bill shrank back. He leaned against a cardboard box, not sure where to look, drumming his fingers self consciously on the floorboards. Trying to figure out the right thing to say to make it better.

"Hey," he said. "If you ever change your mind about reviving the show... can I play the reverend again?" He grinned.

Mabel wadded up a paper and chucked it at Bill's face.

####

They agreed that scripting out every bit of the argument would make it sound too fakey; and anyway they were going to do this on no sleep and with no time to practice, if one of them forgot a line mid-argument it would ruin their entire plan. Bill said he was great at improvisational acting (which Mabel suspected was his way of trying to make "great at lying on the spot" sound good), and Mabel was a pro at getting into character for pretend games, so this should be easy. They just needed to choose a few topics they could realistically argue about.

So they started making a list of things that would totally infuriate each other.

"I can't think of anything that would make me furious," Bill said. "Outside of something serious like a murder attempt, anyway. I'm an even-tempered triangle! I don't sweat the small things!"

"You got sooo mad when I forgot to tell you about my Summerween plans."

Bill grimaced. "Right," he muttered. "That." 

Teasingly, Mabel asked, "Are you still grumpy I made plans?"

"I was not grumpy you made plans. I wasn't grumpy at all! I just would have appreciated if I'd known sooner, I planned my whole evening assuming I'd have somebody around to open doors—"

He saw Mabel's increasingly amused smirk, stopped himself, held up a hand, and said, "I'll save it for tomorrow morning."

Mabel wrote down the idea beneath four ideas she'd already scratched out. She'd temporarily removed the crystal from the height-altering flashlight so she could illuminate her paper while she wrote. "The concert will definitely come up tomorrow morning! And you can act like that's the first time you heard about it."

"Sure, no problem. We haven't talked about the concert where your uncles could overhear, have we?"

"I don't think so."

"Then that's perfect. I can pretend to be mad you didn't tell me." Bill forced a smile. "All right, your turn." He rested his elbow on his knee and his cheek on his fist. "I realize that, apart from the unfortunate meat suit, I'm the most flawless person you've ever seen—" he ignored Mabel's raspberry, "—but for the sake of argument, just imagine something you might get mad at me for."

"Um... insulting Dipper?"

"Now that sounds fun. But no, can't risk it, he'd be too tempted to jump into the argument," Bill said. "Besides, what if I said something you agreed with?"

"What! Why would I agree if you insulted my brother?"

"He smells like a sweaty ferret and when he has a crush he turns into a creepy little stalker."

Mabel laughed. "Yeah, he does. Okay, um..." She went silent for a moment, tapping the butt of her marker on the paper. 

She stopped tapping; and then quietly said, "I'd be so mad if I thought you were trying to keep me from hanging out with my friends."

"Oh, I could do that easily." Bill reviewed his wording, decided a human could take that as a threat, and quickly amended himself, "Could pretend that I'm trying to do that easily. You know I'd never, but hey, the adults here are ready to believe the worst about me—"

"You promise?"

"Sure I promise!" He processed the question after he'd already answered it. "Hold on—you think I'm the kind of person who would do that?" He was, but he didn't want her to see him that way.

She shrugged, looking down at her idea list again. "You've done it to other people."

"Name one!"

"Grunkle Ford and Old Man McGucket."

Oh, of course. That snitch of a backstabbing ungrateful ex-student, bane of Bill's entire miserable postmortem existence. Had to find as many ways as possible to make Bill look bad, didn't he. "All I did was tell Stanford that hick was a coward and a flake. I didn't make him do anything! If he agreed with me, that's on him." Bill crossed his arms irritably. "And Specs was a coward and a flake. Is it a crime to be right?"

"But you ruined their friendship on purpose, didn't you."

Bill tried to find a graceful way to wriggle around the direct accusation that excused his actions without contradicting whatever she might already know. "Did not," he said.

Mabel frowned at him.

Bill averted his gaze. "So! That's great. Trying to keep you away from your friends. Something I've never done to you but would be a really good thing to fight about. What else."

Mabel sighed and looked over her list again. She wrote something, scratched it out; started another line and scribbled it out; and then said in exasperation, "Your morals are terrible."

Bill had to clap a hand over his mouth to keep his sudden laugh from waking Dipper. "You've got too many morals, it's your biggest character flaw. How many does one person really need, two or three? That's an easy topic, arguments about morality can drag out for hours!"

"We probably only need to fight for like ten minutes, right?"

"Sure. List done! That's everything we need."

Mabel heaved a sigh of relief. She read over the list, glanced at the flashlight she was reading with, and said, "I should get extra batteries. It'd be the worst if we got you way out of the shack and then the batteries died while you were still small."

Bill wasn't sure about that. Being so tall for weeks on end felt awkward and wrong. His limbs were always in the way. He bumped into things he should have been able to slide between. The more time he spent in this body, the more he wanted to spend a month at the size and thickness of a greeting card. He joked, "Hey, I don't know; it'd be easier to hide..."

"Yeah, and easier to get squarshed." Mabel turned off the flashlight and picked up her backpack. "I'm getting batteries."

While Mabel was downstairs, Bill picked up her list to see what topics they'd found to argue about so far:

Weirdmaged

Making me think you were Blendin to get the

Kitten fists meow meow

Almost killing me

Not sharing Summerween plans

Trying to make me kill myself by

Ruining Glove Story

Insulting Dipper

Insulting Waddles??? (too lovable!)

Weirdm

Mabeland Isolating me from everyone

Spray painting your eyeball

Weir YOU'RE TOO EVIL!!

I'M TOO NICE!!! ♡

He reread the list, feeling his guts writhe and twist involuntarily.

Yeah. Those were all the things he'd decided not to bring up, too.

At least they were in agreement on what they didn't want to talk about. That was true friendship, right? Friendship didn't mean never hurting each other; it meant mutually agreeing never to talk about it again.

He read the list a third time.

####

A spare pair of Bill's black leggings and a pair of black socks would serve as half of the decoy body, stuffed with old bedsheets and half a pillow that Mabel had sized up with the flashlight so it was closer to Bill's actual torso size. For the time being, the top half of the decoy was constructed out of a flannel shirt; Bill would have to put in an appearance downstairs in his hoodie, and then they could quickly go upstairs and put it on the decoy to complete the look.

He'd miss that hoodie almost as much as he missed his own face. But it was a small price to pay for his life.

"I don't know," Mabel whispered, inspecting the dummy with the flashlight from near the edge of the loft. "It doesn't look super convincing. It's kind of lumpy all wrong." She knelt by it and tried to poke the fake thigh into a slightly more convincing shape.

"Don't worry about it," Bill whispered, waving the folded paper with the secret spell written inside. "The enchantment will hide all that. As long as the dummy looks mostly human at a glance, no one will notice anything."

Mabel gave it one last worried look, but nodded and turned off the flashlight.

####

Mabel crept out of the office and eased the door shut. "Got it," she whispered, holding up a faded black umbrella. "Are you sure you don't want a better umbrella, though? Some of the spikes are broken and I think it's supposed to rain today."

"The other humans will be less likely to notice a broken umbrella going missing," Bill said. "Anyway, this one saved my life once. I'll take it."

"Then that's the last supply we needed to pack," Mabel said, sighing in relief. "It's still a couple hours until morning. Should we get some sleep?"

Bill considered it, and shook his head. "No. Better not."

Sleep scared him. Sure, he endured it when he had to—he had no choice—and, under the circumstances, although it was a close call, he grudgingly preferred sleeping to dying of sleep deprivation; but he kept it at bay as long as he could, sleeping irregularly, infrequently, and briefly. Knowing it was necessary didn't make the fear go away.

It was the helplessness of the whole thing—knowing that, once his mind had shut off, anything could happen around him, anything could happen to his body—and not only was he ignorant and defenseless, but he was also powerless to wake himself up any sooner than his tyrannical circadian rhythm dictated. He lacked even the power to think about waking.

If Mabel hadn't woken him tonight, he might have slept through his own death. 

He continued, "What if we sleep in and don't have time for the fight? I'd be doomed." Bill didn't even have the luxury of an alarm clock.

"Oh—good point," Mabel said. "So we should probably do something to keep us awake."

"Right," Bill said, wracking his exhausted brain for an idea. "Overdose on caffeine?"

Mabel was quiet for a moment. "If this works, it might be a long time before we see each other again," she said. "You'll probably have to keep hiding until Grunkle Ford and Grunkle Stan leave town in the fall. And by then summer will be over, and I'll be back in California..."

She was right. If they pulled off this plan, he might never see Mabel again. It wouldn't exactly be safe to ring up the Mystery Shack. Sure, sooner or later he'd find a way to restart Weirdmageddon, and then he could invite her into his gang... And she'd join, wouldn't she? Of course she would. He just needed a chance to talk to her about it away from the closed-minded killjoys in her family that were holding her back. But until then...

She groped through the dark to grab at Bill's sleeve. "Dance party? While we still can?"

"Sure, star girl." Where had this lump in his throat come from? "Sounds fun. Dance party."

####

5:30 a.m.

It was the first time Bill had danced since his death.

All Mabel had to offer was Sev'ral Times, upbeat kid's show soundtracks, unlistenable synthesized junk, and whatever was playing before dawn on the radio stations that could reach Gravity Falls; the stained yellow shag carpet and homely plaid wallpaper made him miss the dark smoky rooms and strobing multicolor lights of a real club; he couldn't risk drinking this early in the morning if he wanted to have a head clear enough for escape; and he never forgot that, outside of the living room, the halls were empty and silent.

But he'd danced to music that made his eye bleed and his memories howl and he'd danced to no music at all; he'd danced in millions of crummy makeshift dance halls and night clubs and dive bars that had tumbled into or been cobbled together in the Nightmare Realm; he'd danced when he was so brutally sober that time in all its sharp cruel clarity seemed to have frozen to turn a spotlight on him; he'd danced with his worst enemies and he'd danced all alone; and there wasn't any force on this planet that would stop him from dancing now.

After spending four songs in a row making fun of Bill for attempting to figure out how to puppet a human body into some approximation of a dance, Mabel asked, "What were dances like on Flatworld?" It made Bill internally wince each time he heard it called that.

But he welcomed the opportunity for a break; he leaned back to half sit against the living room table, breathing heavily, arms trembling. "Dif—difficult question." He had to pause to catch his breath. His lungs and muscles couldn't keep up with him; this body was too hard to keep moving, so inefficient, 90% of the fuel that went into it was wasted uselessly. It was already beginning to atrophy in the few short weeks he'd had it, muscles withering from days stuck indoors with nothing to do but sit and stare out the window. He'd been made of pure energy for so long that maintaining all the little systems to keep a flesh body energized—food, water, sleep, exercise, not too much exercise, oxygen—felt like a Sisyphean torture. "S'like asking—'what're human dances like'? There's a—lot of variety."

"You know what I mean!" Mabel was still half dancing, bouncing from foot to foot. Bill wanted that kind of energy. "How do you dance?"

Bill shut his eyes, seeing colors flash behind his eyes—gyroscopic, kaleidoscopic, shapes spinning and whirling in spirals. "I'd show you, but there's not enough room in here for me to do a cartwheel."

"Seriously, Bill."

"I'm being serious! Plus I can't float. It wouldn't look right in a human body." It would look better if he cut his silhouette out of a piece of paper, taped it over a flashlight, and projected the shape onto the wall. "Tell you what—as soon as I'm back in my real body, I'll show you how I dance, all right?"

"Come on, Bill! You're just trying to wiggle out of—"

"Mabel," Bill said, "I can't do those dances in this body."

Mabel's teasing smile faded. "Really?"

"Unless you know a way to dislocate my shoulder so I can slide my entire arm from one hip over my head and down to the other."

"Ew." Mabel grimaced.

"It looks cooler on a triangle." Bill smiled wanly. "But hey, I spent all day yesterday teaching you everything I know—you can teach me something. I haven't used a human body in thirty years! What dances are popular these days, I haven't learned anything new since the moonwalk."

Mabel's eyes widened. "You know how to moonwalk?"

"Sure! It's easy. I figured it out in Stanford's body."

"I don't believe you. Prove it."

Bill pushed off the table. "Oh, yeah? Are you ready to look stupid?" He effortlessly glided backwards across the floorboards. He pointed at Mabel's gaping face as he passed. "What do you think of that?"

"Show me how to do that and I'll teach you every dance I know."

Bill grinned. He loved deals that were unfairly biased in his favor, and he loved it more when he didn't even have to propose them himself. "You've got yourself a deal, Shooting Star." It would keep them occupied for the next hour.

####

6:32 a.m.

About fifteen minutes ago, Bill had warned Mabel that he'd just glimpsed the beforeimage of Ford crossing the living room in the future; and then they'd kept partying, wanting to get in every last second of joy they could before he arrived in the present.

But once Ford was no longer approaching but actually there, seeing his face was like a bullet to the head. Bill had been having so much fun, for a few minutes he'd almost forgotten that today was execution day. 

And it wouldn't be execution day if he had anything to say about it.

Bill demanded, "What's with the sour face?" (Ford's eyes were so dull, his expression so heavy; Bill had never seen him wear that look, not even any of the previous times he'd tried to murder Bill.) "Hey, am I not allowed to dance now?" He squeezed Mabel's hands tighter.

Ford just gave a tiny shake to his head and hurried past them, not even deigning to look at Bill, as though he were telling himself he'd only imagined he'd heard the voice of a ghost.

I know what you're up to, Bill thought at top volume silently in his head. But you won't do it. You won't do it.

He met Mabel's gaze. She gave him a tiny nod. Party was over. Time to get to work.

####

6:36 a.m.

Over the course of the night, Dipper had been woken twice by bursts of quickly-hushed laughter; three times by random bumps and thuds; once by Bill falling off the loft and Mabel's squeal of alarm; and several times by Mabel waking Dipper to ask if it was okay if she gave Bill Dipper's old shoes (so Bill could finally walk in the woods properly), his sleeping bag (so Bill didn't have to sleep on hard rocks under a single sad Pony Heist bedsheet), his "Edible Plants of Oregon's Blue Mountains" booklet (self-explanatory), and several other things he also said "yes" to without hearing properly. It had better be one heck of a prophecy that Bill was involved in, because Dipper was this close to just murdering Bill himself.

When Dipper went downstairs, he couldn't even look at Mabel and Bill—terrified something in his gaze would give the whole conspiracy away. He didn't even know what they were planning. Was dancing in the living room part of it? Was it some distraction? He'd hoped Bill would already be gone by now.

He couldn't meet Ford's eyes either, for the guilt of betraying his trust. He didn't deserve these scrambled eggs.

He couldn't meet anyone's gaze.

He really, really hoped Mabel and Bill had a plan. He hoped it was a good plan. Because whatever the heck they were up to—Dipper was afraid it was on him to prevent Ford and Stan from intervening too soon and finding out.

####

6:49 a.m.

After they'd escaped the kitchen, Bill glanced over his shoulder toward the stairs before Mabel got the attic door closed. "Do you think Ford noticed something?"

Mabel was already running across the room, retrieving her phone charger and phone to stuff in her backpack and pocket, making sure she'd packed everything she needed for her trip—everything except for Bill. "I wasn't looking. Did he?"

"I don't know." Bill flashed one last worried look at the door; but he couldn't afford to slow down, he had a dummy to finish. He hurried up the ladder, took off his hoodie, pulled on a tank top, tried to fish his pre-written enchantment out of his pocket in the same movement, and fumbled and dropped the paper over the edge of the loft.

Mabel had been checking her bag for the concert tickets when a paper fluttered down on her hair. She instinctively grabbed it and unfolded it before she registered the four sigils written on the outside and realized this was the enchantment Bill had said would stop working if anyone read it. She'd reflexively read the first few lines before she could stop herself. She froze. Her gaze jerked up to Bill, eyes wide.

Bill dropped down the ladder, snatched the paper out of her hand so quickly it almost tore, and immediately climbed back up. "I told you not to look." He carefully refolded it.

"Is that...?"

"It'll work," Bill hissed, with an insistence that said he wasn't sure it would work at all.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" He held up the dummy's pillow torso and yanked the hoodie on top of it.

When Mabel didn't say anything, Bill sighed. "Even if it doesn't—this only needs to work until we're on the road. They can't stop us then."

"Bill—"

He shakily inhaled, and then he raised his voice loud enough he'd be heard downstairs. "What do you need to spend all that time around those two brats for, anyway?! What, am I not good enough company for you?!"

They didn't have time to adjust the plan. They were in the middle of it, right now, and the guys expected to hear an argument. Mabel swallowed hard and raised her voice as well. "Not when you're acting like this, you aren't! You're a bigger brat than—than both of—and my friends aren't brats!"

Bill bit his lip, brows drawn in pain, eye squeezed shut, trying not to laugh.

Mabel chucked a sock at him, don't you dare. "You can't say I can't hang out with my friends, that's stupid!"

"I never said you can't!" Bill held the folded paper a foot above the completed dummy, the square of symbols face up, and tapped it twice so it hovered in place when he let go. "Hang out with your stupid friends, I don't care! But two whole days is ridiculous—!"

####

7:02 a.m.

"I THOUGHT you were my FRIEND!"

All three eavesdroppers cringed—Dipper hardest of all. His heart was hammering out of his chest and his t-shirt was at least 50% sweat by volume. Was this part of the plan? It sounded like an insane plan. This couldn't be the plan. It had to be the plan. He'd already prevented Ford from intervening, what if they were really fighting? But what if this really was the plan? 

"WELL! If you're gonna act like this just because I wondered what you're up to, maybe NOT! What kind of fun are you good for, you wouldn't even be into burning a house down!"

Dipper messed up. He'd actually ruined their friendship right before Bill was about to die and Mabel would be miserableand it was all his fault. This fight was real. They were furious. They hated each other—

####

7:03 a.m.

"OH YEAH, WELL—" Mabel faltered as she struggled to think of a fitting retort. "YOU WOULDN'T EVEN BE INTO—into—n-NOT BURNING A HOUSE DOWN!" She cringed at herself, struggling not to laugh.

Bill had been fighting the urge to laugh so hard that his face was turning red. "OHHH WOW, GREAT COMEBACK."

Mabel's voice went shrill with suppressed hysterics. "SHUT UP!" Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she socked Bill's arm. If he made her lose it when everyone was outside listening—

The door opened. "Hey—!"

They both rounded on Stan. "STAY OUT OF IT!" Mabel snatched up a discarded sweater. Stan shut the door just before the sweater hit it.

Mabel quietly wheezed, "Do you think he saw anything?"

"No, n—" Bill had to clap both hands over his mouth and nose to keep silent. Mabel wrapped her arms around him and smushed her face against his chest to muffle herself. They stood there, shaking, until the hysterics passed.

The stress was getting to them.

####

7:06 a.m.

"Fine!!" Mabel lifted the height-altering flashlight. "Then you can just stay here all weekend!"

Bill had on his backpack (Dipper had "agreed" Bill could take his) and was clutching his umbrella. He gave her a thumbs up; ready. "FINE!"

"FINE!" Mabel turned on the flashlight. When Bill was around four inches tall, she turned it off, knelt down, and offered her hand for him to climb on. She stuffed the flashlight in her backpack, carefully set Bill in a sweater nest (how had Gideon flung her and Dipper in a jar so cavalierly? she was terrified of snapping Bill's bones like toothpicks), zipped the backpack and gingerly put it on; and then Mabel was storming out of the room.

"Leave him in there," Mabel snapped, pointing at the door. She was shaking with fear. "He's in TIME OUT."

Dipper glanced nervously at the door, "Um..." He looked so worried. She hadn't had a chance to explain the plan to him.

Mabel glared into his eyes. She summoned up all her mostly placebic Twin Empathy Powers to beam her thoughts into Dipper's brain. Don't. Please don't. If you say anything you'll ruin it.

He raised his hands. "Okay, fine."

Mabel rushed past him to the stairs, trying to escape as fast as possible without jostling her backpack.

####

7:08 a.m.

Buckled into Mrs. Grendinator's car, voice shaking, Mabel said, "Can we just go? Please?" Now, before someone ran out of the shack and waved them down to demand Mabel explain where Bill had gone. Her hands were trembling in fear, clutched protectively around her backpack with its secret cargo. One of her best friends was in there. She couldn't let anything happen to him.

Mrs. Grendinator nodded. "Of course."

As they pulled around the Mystery Shack and toward the road, Mabel glanced toward the attic bedroom window, afraid the adults might have already gone in and discovered their trick; but no one looked back.

Now all she could do was hope the paper Bill had left floating over the dummy would do its job.

####

(Shoutout to the one person who theorized the size changing flashlight could be involved, I'd @ you but I don't want you to see this before you read the chapter. You may claim credit in the notes. Based on the messages I received, one person guessed Mabel got involved halfway through the fight, no one guessed she was in it from the start, and NOBODY guessed Dipper got involved.

For a fun time, go back and read last chapter and this one in chronological order via the timestamps!

But first I wanna hear all your thoughts.)

[zzencat]

Little Things You Can Do To Get Back On Track - Timeless ⏳

If you came from my “Why Am I Still Unsatisfied?” reading, sit back and relax. Take in the messages I am collecting at this moment. These are very simple things you can do today to get yourself back on the track of life.

Note: This is meant to be short and simple, but a storm of butterflies can whip up a tsunami. I got more than what I asked for from my spirit guides today. It seems you have a lot to hear. You never know what could impact your life. “You should be prepared.”

DO BEFORE YOU READ: Clear your mind. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill up your chest to the fullest, feel the air brush against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out. You are no longer alone. Choose the photo that you can’t take your eyes off of.

—————-

Pile 1. “Simple is best.”

• You could use some vitamin C, to be honest. But don’t overdo it. Learn more about your body and keep up with it—things like how fast you metabolize certain things, but if you’re on medication or supplements, be aware that metabolizing medication is different from metabolizing food. You also either drink too much water or too little.

• If you’re prone to procrastination, start looking for libraries and cafes to help you better focus.

• TAKE BREAKS. Mental, emotional, all of it. Look out the window and observe things that catch your attention. Maybe you’ll start to realize that life does have its small and beautiful moments.

• You don’t have to be surrounded by friends and people all the time. Allow yourself some you-time, explore places on your own—I keep seeing someone wearing a scarf, drinking a hot-warm coffee (coffee is super dehydrating for you btw, so make sure you drink tons of water), fall season. Lounging around in your room and having a show binge by yourself is also good. It’d be nice if you had at least one day off every week to spend by yourself, without the presence of other people.

• Remember that you should recharge yourself too and that saying “no” is okay. You don’t have to be responsible for everyone else.

• Take a walk at dawn, but wear a jacket when you do so. Be wary of your surroundings still, but when you have a moment, breathe in the air of an area that has a dewy smell to it. Damp or rainy seasons work fine. Watch the sun come up for a few seconds and take that time to appreciate your environment.

—————

Pile 2. “Rejection is Okay.”

• Have you gone on any dates recently? I’m seeing a girl with her legs crossed at a cozy cafe, but she’s not bothered by it. She’s neutral in fact, very simple existing, and she’s reading a wall full of post-it notes from other couple. She seems intrigued, although not overly. Just neutral and an “oh, how nice” kind of vibe.

• Perhaps there is a lack of confidence. You should strive to be someone that is okay with being alone in public—specifically LOOKING alone in public. No, that does not make you seem lonely. It makes you comfortable with your own presence. Maybe you tend to think a lot or contemplate often.

• Working on leadership skills could be something. Maybe you’d like to become more assertive? I don’t have too much advice for this group, to be honest. But you should learn how to stand up for yourself more and be careful so that people don’t take advantage of you (for anything/any reason) easily.

• Condition your mind to not caring what others think. Obviously, there’s a limit and rules set in place so that we don’t get in legal trouble—I’m talking about your mindset. Don’t let others get to you easily and work more on your posture. Standing/sitting up straighter will begin to subtly convince your mind and you that you’re confident.

————

Pile 3. “It’s too quiet.”

• journaling can help. It might sound boring or it might be hard to sit in one place for a while, but you have to practice it. Discipline yourself.

• Kind of similar to pile 1, but this is a less responsible group. Don’t distract yourself from your problems and face them head on. Being cowardly isn’t a good trait to have. Be mindful about drinking and what other things you’re putting in your body. This could bite you back in the future.

• Friends may be questionable, may try to convince you to do things you weren’t initially planning to do/try. Be wary of this and stand up for yourself.

• Another thing if you do drink, learn not to drink away your problems or get high enough to escape them. It’s hard, I know. But you have to realize how important it is to live. Don’t be so reckless. If your soul is being let down, you’ll pay the consequences.

• If you feel like a failure or everyone around you says that you are, don’t feed into it. Build yourself up. Make something out of yourself but don’t let those people know. They’ll see it and possibly try to take credit. Don’t let them. Deal with it in a calm and diplomatic manner and turn your head away. You don’t need that extra nonsense. Simple acknowledgement is what they really need, so don’t give them the attention. You’ll mature so much from this.

• It might feel lonely and you may think you’re the only person who’s overthinking/overfeeling about something, or you feel like you’re different from the people you hang out with somehow. A small part of you probably thinks there’s more to life than just…this. Whatever you’re doing to pass the time and simply have fun. Like “they wouldn’t understand so I gotta fake it til I make it” type of energy. Laughing it off type of energy. “Ah, whatever- it’s nothing~” energy. Find like-minded people who share the same interests as you and bond with them. You will experience more authenticity in these relationships than your previous ones.

• Pile 3, you definitely have a bit to learn and it takes work, but you have it in you. The potential is very obviously there. You know it too, but you brush it off—don’t deny it. Don’t be scared of it and learn to speak its language. Reach your hand out to whatever is in that mental cave of yours and show it some kindness. It’s okay for it to come out. You’ll learn that it will take your hand faster than you’d thought. Don’t let doubt get in the way. This pile thinks A LOT and likes to drown it out, because it’s easy. Let yourself think and feel the emotions, bad or good. You won’t even recognize what you were holding back. You have power to impact people more than you realize. Good luck Pile 3, you have this.

————————-

Lil Teddy note: I hope you enjoyed this reading guys!! Today I asked for simple things that my readers could do to improve their lives and become better beings. I meant to keep it concise and give 3D, things-you-could-do-in-the-present type of things, but apparently, I received other messages to give that involved mental and physical health as well. Some piles made me feel worried and passionate, like their higher selves were desperate to get them out of these ruts or situations. The signs have been there but maybe some piles haven’t been taking them seriously or have been brushing them off one too many times. This is your sign man 😂😂 Please, take yourselves seriously and realize that you’ve only got a shot of this. Stay safe, work on that confidence, and learn to be with yourself. With all that being said, take what resonates and leave what doesn’t!! Thank you for coming to our reading today :) Teddy outttt

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Will Graham X Reader: Academic validation

Warnings: smut, switch reader x switch will, use of pet names (darling, baby), drinking, fluff, making out, penetration (p in v), cowgirl, oral (f receiving), handjob, female anatomy, gender neutral reader no use of y/n.

Word Count: 2,5K

You really should be paying attention to the lecture. And boy were you trying to but his fucking hands. His fucking hands were driving you insane. Every time he fidgeted with them as he spoke or used them to point out a particular aspect of the crime he was analyzing you found yourself distracted.

It wasn’t hard to have a crush on Will. He was an attractive guy. An attractive slightly older guy who passed off a sort of touch starved vibe. You had a thing for guys like that. The only problem was that he was your teacher. All though you didn’t think that should matter. You were an adult who was capable of making your own choices and so was Will. The real issue was the way that your little crush had started affecting your learning. You tried to pay attention to what Will was saying but as soon as your eyes caught a glimpse of his lips you could help but think of kissing him. You were so deep in thought you didn't notice him finish his lecture. And you didn’t notice as your colleagues shuffled out of the classroom. Your head snapped up at the sound of someone calling your name. Your eyes found Will's frame. He was sitting on top of his desk, eyes locked onto you. You stared at him in silence.

“You okay?”

His brows furrowed in worry as he continued to observe you. Gosh he was cute like this. You shook your head letting out a small laugh.

“Yeah. Sorry Mr.Graham must have gotten caught up in my own head.”

“Will’s fine.”

“Sorry what?”

“Oh uh you can just call me Will.”

“Oh okay Will. I’ll get out of your hair.”

You picked up your textbook, shoving it in your bag before moving down the steps towards Will's desk. You gave him a small smile as you made your way to the door.

“Are you sure you're okay?”

His question made you freeze. You turned around so that you were facing him. His hands were pushed up against his desk drawing attention to his muscles. You bit the inside of your cheek forcing yourself to focus on his face.

“Why do you ask?”

“I just noticed you haven’t been yourself lately. You usually participate a lot in class. But you’ve been really quiet this past week. It got me wondering.”

“Can i be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind the last few days and I'm having trouble keeping up in class. I didn't want to say anything because I know what everyone will say.”

“What will they say?”

“That I'm not cut out for this.”

Will let out an understanding hum. He pushed his body off the desk, turning his back to you as he made his way to his chair. You watched him, taking in how his body moved.  On instinct you found yourself moving towards his desk. It was as if there was some invisible force pulling you to him. 

“When I started teaching people thought I wasn't gonna last a week. They thought I was too odd. Too sensitive to handle a classroom dynamic. Do you know what I did?”

You shake your head. 

“I proved them wrong.”

Will grinned at you and you couldn’t help but grin back at him. A moment of silence passed over the room. Will was deep in thought. You could tell just by looking at him. You thought of going on your way but before you could move Will started to speak once more.

“Show me what you’re having a hard time with.”

“Oh no, I couldn't possibly do that. You have to go home and i-”

“Do you have plans?”

You didn’t, not unless you count eating dinner alone and watching a movie before bed as plans. 

“You’re sure I won't be a bother?”

“Not at all. Believe it or not I actually enjoy teaching. Could you just do me a favor first?”

“Yeah sure, what do you need?”

“Close the door will you?”

You placed your bag on Will’s desk before walking to the door. You stuck your head out looking at the empty hall. You shut the door carefully before turning around. Your eyes fell on Will's frame. He was sitting on his desk, his hand slicking back his hair as he waited for you.

You were stuck in a room with Will Graham. 

What had you gotten yourself into?

It turns out there was a lot more you’d missed then you had anticipated. Will didn’t seem to mind though. He went over every case you didn’t remember and never judged you for missing any clues. Even if they were kind of obvious. After a while the two of you drifted into other topics. You told Will about your life and he shared stories of his dogs. At some point Will had pulled out a bottle of whiskey from his desk and everything seemed to go downhill from there.

You were currently sitting on the floor desperately trying to breathe in between laughs. Will had just told you about the time Winston had run away and gotten sprayed by a skunk. 

“ I couldn't get the smell out of the house for a week. And the other dogs didn’t want to go near him. They treated him like he was contagious.”

“You’re kidding!” “I swear!” 

The sound of yours and Will's laugh filled the room again. He let out a deep sigh, finally managing to regain his breath. When you met his gaze he had a smile plastered on his face.

“What is it?”

“Oh nothing. It’s just been a while since I've done something like this.”

“What, gotten drunk in a classroom?”

“Had a fun time with someone.”

Your stomach did a flip at Will's words. You knew he wasn’t a typically social guy but you imagined he had friends. You’d seen him talking to Dr.Bloom a couple of times and couldn’t help but notice how he looked at him.

It was the same way you looked at him. 

“Hey.”

Will placed his hand on yours leaning his head to the side.

“Did I say something?”

“No. Sorry. Just having a hard time believing you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nevermind. I should get going. It's getting late.”

You rose from the ground. Will mirrored your movements, rising to his feet as well. You downed the last of your drink, placing your cup down on Wills desk. You accidentally knocked your bag down in the process, causing your things to go spilling out everywhere.

“Oh fuck me.”

“Here let me help.”

Will crouched down beside you helping you gather your things. The two of you moved without paying too much attention,  the alcohol in your system making you clumsy. Somehow you managed to knock your head into Will's nose.

“Oh shit sorry Will.”

“It’s okay.”

“No it’s not. You might be bleeding. Here let me take a look.”

You guided Will to his chair, your things forgotten on the floor. He sat down, his hand still applying pressure to his nose. You placed a hand on top of him, guiding him to let go. He understood your request. Your fingers moved carefully over his nose, trying to see if anything was bruised. Will hissed as you touched a tender spot.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m not a doctor but i don't think anything is broken. And you're not bleeding so you should be fine.”

Instinctively you placed your hand on Will's cheek. You watched him close his eyes, learning into your touch. Slowly Will opened his eyes. His blue orbs bore into you. He was looking up at you with puppy eyes. Your breath sped up at the sight. His lips parted slightly to whisper your name. Will's hand moved to the back of your leg. He pushed your body closer to his, hand wrapping around your thigh. You lifted your leg allowing him to guide you onto his lap. Will moved his head to the side, moving to kiss your wrist. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as he continued to kiss down your arm. A gasp left your mouth as Will pressed his face into your chest, his arms wrapping around your back as he desperately tried to be closer to you. You could feel his tongue though the fabric of your shirt. The feeling caused you to throw your head back as your hands made their way into Will’s curls. You heard him call your name again making you look down at him. He had his head against your chest, his beautiful blue eyes staring up at you.  

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

Will pulled you down into him, allowing the two of you to be face to face. The kiss was gentle and far too quick for your liking. Your lips parted for each other. Will put his hand on your cheek. His thumb moved over your lips, caressing them. You opened your mouth, tongue darting out to lick the tip of his digit. Will let out a shuddered breath at the action. You smirked at him. 

“You should be careful darling. You don’t know who you’re playing with.”

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you show me?”

The grin that made its way onto Will's face could only be described as wolfish. Before you knew it Will had risen from his seat and placed you on the ground. He wasted no time working his way into your pants. You gasped as his fingers played with your folds.

“This wet already?”

“In all honesty i’ve been wet since we started talking.”

“Jesus baby.”

“I think about you a lot. In class. In bed. Anywhere really.”

“Oh yeah? And what do you think about?”

“Your hands, your back, what you’d look like naked.”

“So that's why you’re behind? Been to busy thinking of fucking me to pay attention.”

“Yes…”

Will tugged at your pants, pulling them down your leg. You lifted your hips to help him out. He lent down, placing a kiss to your thighs and you couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. Will grazed his teeth against your skin and then continued to kiss the spot.

“Will, please.”

“What do you want?”

“Anything, just please give me something.”

“Only cause you’ve been good.”

A moan broke from your lips as Will's tongue moved over your folds. You placed your hand over your face, head turning to the side as Will ate you out. He was skilled. A lot more skilled than you’d imagined him to be. The way his tongue moved over your pussy had you screaming out for him. Your sounds seemed to spur him on because whenever you let out a yelp, Will would focus all his energy into that spot. His palm was splayed against your chest, fingers gripping at your breast.

You wrapped your hands around Will's wrist dragging his hand up to your face. You placed two of his fingers into your mouth sucking on them eagerly. Will let out a grunt at the feeling, his hips moving against the carpet for some much needed friction. You watched him hump the carpet like a dog in heat and you couldn’t help but want to pleasure him too. You wanted to make him feel as good as he was making you feel because he deserved it. But at the moment you were far more focused on cumming.

“Will, baby, I'm so close…”

“Yeah. You gonna cum for me?”

“Ah Will-shit ugh-please.”

Will seemed to know exactly what you were begging for. He placed a kiss on your clit as he inserted two fingers into you. The combination of his fingers inside you, his tongue on you and the sight of the blissed out look on his face had you cumming in seconds. You yelled out his name, your hand tugging on his curls as you came. Will laid down beside you as you came down from your high. His hand went to his dick, tugging at his pants in an attempt to get some relief. You tried to catch your breath, tilting your head to look at Will. You noticed how he fidgeted with his hard on. You called out his name, making him tilt his head to look at you. 

“What is it?”

“Touch yourself for me.”

Will hesitated for a moment, eyes searching for your approval.

“It’s okay baby, you can touch yourself. It’s your reward for making me feel good.”

It was funny how quickly you managed to switch roles and by the look on Will's face you could tell he enjoyed it. Will opened his zipper, his hand moving to free his member. You inched closer to him, nuzzling your face into the croak of his neck. Will whined as he started stroking his dick. You unbuttoned his shirt, placing your hand on his skin. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he continued to pleasure himself.

“That’s it baby.”

“Oh fuck. Want to…”

“Tell me what you need, Will.”

“Need to be inside of you.”

“Okay, since you’ve been a good boy. I’ll give you what you want.”

You pushed your body off the ground, moving to be on your hands and knees. You crawled over Will's body maneuvering yourself so you were hovering over his dick. You placed your hands on his chest bracing yourself. Will humped into you causing his dick to nudge against your cunt. 

“Ah ah patience Will.”

“Sorry.”

Slowly you sank down onto his dick. His hands gripped your hips instinctively. You let out a breath, trying to adjust to his size. You clenched around Will, making him grunt at the feeling. You lifted your hips before dropping back down. Will moved in unison with you, his hand playing with your nipples as you continued to ride him. Your nails dug into his chest as you moved, the sounds he was letting out only spurring you on. You could feel your upcoming orgasm causing you to fasten your movements. 

“Fuck i’m gonna cum. Gotta get out darling.”

Will moved to tug you on him but you sank your nails into his shoulders. He looked up at you with a startled look. 

“I’m on the pill. Cum inside just please…fill me up. I want you to fill me up.”

You had no idea what your words did to him but it became clear a few seconds later. You barely had time to register Wills orgasm before your own ripped through you. You sagged onto his chest exhaustion finally catching up to you. Will placed a kiss on your neck before nuzzling his nose into you. You caressed his chest as you two tried to recover.

“Think you’ll be able to pay attention in class now?”

“No fucking way.”

Will's laugh filled the room, his chest vibrating against yours. You couldn’t help but grin at the sound.

[msmk11]

Maybe

Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader

WC: 1.3k

CW: Pregnancy, giving birth, Coryo being absent, some fluff, ANGST

Summary: You love your husband, but his growing inattentiveness becomes harder and harder to handle, especially with the arrival of your baby.

A/n: I don’t think I’ll ever have it it in me to write Coryo as perfect and sweet cuz he SUCKS. So you get a little fluff here, but a lot of angst still.

Day 8 of mk’s mad dash

The last certainty your husband offered you was on your wedding day when he said “I do.”

That was a year ago.

You knew he was busy. Coriolanus was rising through the ranks so rapidly you wouldn’t be surprised if he assumed the presidency within the next five years. Of course, you were proud of him. Not only was it your duty as his wife to wholeheartedly support him, you also truly, genuinely cared about his happiness and success. But as with everything, there was a cost. In your courtship, Coryo was so very attentive, loving, and dedicated to you. He made you feel special, and you had no trouble falling in love with him. But once he slipped that ring on your finger, all of it came to a halt. It’s not that he entirely ignored you- no, sometimes you saw the glimpses of your old Coryo when he was on top of you at night, or when you went to socialite parties- but you had often been left to fend for yourself this past year.

You absolutely tried to be understanding when your husband would remind you how busy he was, and how he was doing all this hard work for your happiness, but frankly, you missed him. And was it really so wrong for a wife to miss her husband?

Your loneliness and desire for your husband only worsened tenfold when you learned that you were with child. Coryo, of course, was thrilled that you sired an heir. But with him gone all day, and often at outings at night, you saw less and less of him as your pregnancy moved along. You went through your morning sickness alone, felt the first kick alone, learned the baby’s sex alone, and picked out the baby’s room decorations alone. You were desperately hopeful that the birth of your child, your son, would bring Coriolanus back into your arms, a paternal instinct drawing him into the realm of the domestic.

So when the day came that your water broke and contractions started, though you were overcome with anxiety about giving birth, the hope that fluttered in your chest for the return of your husband far superseded it.

You were out tending to the rose garden when it happened, your long, white flowy dress suddenly soaked. You calmly rushed inside to the phone and dialed Coriolanus’ office.

“Office of Coriolanus Snow, this is Lilith. How can I help you today?” A perky, feminine voice asked.

“Hi Lilith, this is Coriolanus’ wife. Can I please speak to him?” You said kindly as you rubbed soothing circles over your swollen stomach.

“Mr. Snow is very busy right now,” Lilith told you calmly, “can I take a message?”

“Lilith, please,” you answered a little more desperately, “this is an urgent call.”

You heard the clacking of her nails against the computer, “one moment.”

The line goes silent, and you know she’s stepped away to speak to your husband. Every second you had to wait to hear Coryo’s deep voice on the other end, the more anxious you began to feel. It was really starting to kick in- you were about to have a baby.

The line crackled and then, “Darling?”

“Coriolanus” you sighed, relieved.

“What’s wrong? I’m very busy here,” he told you seriously.

“The baby. He’s coming. My water just broke.”

Your husband inhaled sharply on the other side of the phone, “Oh, okay. Okay. Well, are you alright? How’re you feeling?”

You cupped your bump gently, “I’m okay right now, sweetheart. But I imagine contractions will start to kick in soon. Can you come home?”

And then, your voice slightly broke, “Please. I need you Coryo.”

“Yes, of course, darling. I’ll be home as soon as I call the doctor.”

“Okay, thank you,” you said, voice shaky.

You hung up the phone and took a deep breath. Everything was going to be okay.

*****

Pain. White hot, blinding pain consumed your body and you couldn’t stop the screams that were leaving your body. The doctor was saying something to you but you didn’t care. You just wanted it all to stop.

Tears were streaming down your face and you kept shaking your head, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

Suddenly, like an angel, Coriolanus was in your view, white light shining down on his blonde curls creating a halo. Your sobs quieted at his face.

“Coryo,” you hiccupped, “I can’t. I can’t do this.”

He placed his hand on your forehead, stroking your sweaty baby hairs away from your face, and your eyes fluttered shut at his touch.

“Darling, you can. I promise. You know why?”

You opened your eyes again and stared intently into his bright blue ones, “why?”

“Because you’re a Snow now. And Snows can do anything.”

“Snows can do anything,” you murmured.

Can. Coriolanus said can. The first firm answer from him in a year. If he could give you that, you could do this.

Your husband nodded at you, a soft smile on his face, “Good girl.”

He moved his hand from your forehead down to your hand and clasped it tightly. His encouragement is what allowed you to start pushing again.

As you pushed, your screams returned. But instead of hopeless, frail screams, they were determined and strong. Soon enough, smaller, whiny screams filled the air- your baby’s.

The doctor swooped the baby out from between your legs, “it’s a boy.”

Tears began to stream down your face again, but they were happy tears.

“Coryo, we have a baby,” you sobbed.

Your husband bent down and kissed your forehead tenderly, “well done, darling. Our very own baby boy.”

“Mr. Snow, the umbilical cord.”

Coriolanus stood and gave your hand one more squeeze before walking over to your baby. With slightly shaking hands he cut the cord, and then your baby boy was placed gently into his arms. He walked over to you, the softest look on his face.

“He’s here,” Coriolanus said, placing the baby into your arms.

Your son was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen, and your heart swelled as you quickly noticed some of Coryo’s features and your own on the face of your son.

“He’s perfect.”

*****

After everything had settled and the doctor left, it was just you and your perfect little family cradled together in the master bedroom of your home. Your baby boy sat cooing in your arms, swaddled in a soft blue blanket, while Coriolanus sat behind you, arm around your shoulders and head peering over you to stare at him.

“We make a pretty good baby, Coryo,” you told your husband softly.

“Mhmm, that we do.”

You leaned into his touch as your husband began to run soothing strokes up and down your side. If everything could stay just like this, you would be perfectly happy. You’d never ask for anything else in your life.

“Sweetheart,” you implore softly.

“Yes, darling?”

“Do you think you’ll be able to take some time off work, to be with me and the baby?”

His hand on your side stilled and he inhaled sharply, “darling.”

You turned to look at him, big eyes soft and pleading, “Coryo, please. The baby needs his father.”

You paused.

“And I need my husband.”

Coriolanus hesitated, and you wished you could tell what was going on in that always-running brain of his.

“Maybe, darling.”

Maybe.

The death and birth of hope.

It wasn’t a no- the word so ingrained in your brain that you saw it seared on the back of your eyelids. And in that, there was hope. Hope that you’d get your husband back. That you’d get to be a mother alongside him as a father. That everything could be the way it used to.

But maybe wasn’t a yes either. One too many times now you’d gotten your hopes up when Coryo responded to one of your requests with a maybe.

Well maybe you didn’t like his answer.

Maybe you didn’t like feeling abandoned or alone.

Maybe.

But instead, all you said was, “okay.”

[ferrarrigirl]

i beg for some lando x reader where he is a girl dad!!!!!!! love ur work 🫶

Full House

Pairing: dad!Lando x mom!reader

Summary: Lando and reader with their 4 daughters, there’s always drama in the Norris household. Slight angst, mostly fluff.

A/N: Im so sorry this took forever to write but I hope you like it xx

You had just retired to your room after finally finishing up the last of your emails for today. Trying to sneak in a quick nap before the rest of the family gets home. Maybe you should’ve checked the time because just as you got comfortable, the front door unlocks downstairs, followed by Layla’s loud voice, “You just always have to take everything I want. Couldn’t this be the one thing you left for me?”

You immediately jumped out of bed heading for the stairs. As your racing down the steps, you hear the younger of the twins, Ava, retaliate, “I didn’t mean to Lay, it’s not my fault.”

Both girls turn to face you seeing you’ve reached the bottom step. “What is going on girls?” You question, deeply concerned with the anger laced in both their voices.

Layla’s first to reply, “Ask her Mom, ask her why she had to go after the one guy I liked.”

“I didn’t go after him, I don’t chase anyone” Ava seethes through gritted teeth.

“Oh cut the shit, you love having every guy’s attention. You should’ve left Jake alone!”

“Layla, stop,” you scold, noticing Ava’s patience is growing thin. That never ended well. Similar to her dad, it took a lot for her to get angry, but if she did, it wasn’t pretty.

“No Mom let her say what she has to. She’s just mad no one wants her.”

“Ava! That is not how you speak to your sister,” you move to step between them. “Let’s take a break and talk about this when you’ve both calmed down,” you offer.

“Fine by me, I never want to speak to her again,” Layla glares at Ava, turns on her heel and heads up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door, hard. You move to step towards Ava, in attempts to comfort her but she slips under your arm. “Please don’t defend her mom,” Ava sighs and heads up to her room as well. It’ll be best to try and get through to them later you think, especially with Lan. They always seem to more receptive hearing it from him. You turn to your younger babies, the less of the trouble makers. “How was both of yours days? Better I hope?”

“Oh yea mum the best, but I wanna catch up on some reading before dinner, is that okay?” 11 year old Amelia pleads, looking up at you through her beautiful green eyes. How could you deny that. “Of course you can bub” you say, pulling your bookworm baby into a hug. “I’ll come get you when dinners ready,” she smiles, padding up the stairs to her room aswell.

“Now you, my sweets, come here.” You crouch down to your 7 year old, knowing she gets very anxious whenever her older sisters argue. As expected, immediately she’s in your arms, almost throwing you back with the impact. You pick Charlotte up and move upstairs, asking her about her day to try and distract her. You take her to Lando’s office and settle into his gaming chair with her on your lap. It was always your comfort room, something about the darkness mixed with the led lights soothed you. She fills you in on the few things she learned today, but mostly all the games they played, while she snuggles further into you. You hated that she got the anxiety trait from you, so anything you could do to help her out, you would. Lucky for you, your voice worked well to relax her so you spoke to her about your day and felt her ease up.

“I’m home,” you smile hearing the front door open and close, followed by heavy footsteps moving quickly up the stairs. Char jumps off your lap, running out and straight into Lando’s arms. “Daddyyyy” she exclaims, presssing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. Lando follows where she came from, leading him to you sitting in his gaming chair. He furrows his brows, notificing your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Are you okay babe?”

“Yea-“

“Lay and A had a big fight and they yelled and screamed at each other,” Char quickly spills.

“Oh sorry mummy,” she pouts seeing your gaze shift towards her. “Wanted to tell daddy so he can fix it.”

“That’s okay baby,” you stand, placing a kiss to her head. “Do you wanna go play with Amelia while me and daddy talk? We’ll grab to help cook dinner.”

Halfway through your sentence, she’s already jumping out of Lando’s arms and rushing out the door. “I’ll take that as a yes” you giggle while Lando engulfs you in his arms.

“Talk to me love” he mumbles against the skin of your neck, making sure to leave a few pecks. He stays like that, rocking you side to side as you unveil the events that led you here. It’s a lot to digest. And it’s never fun knowing your girls are fighting, especially if it’s over a boy, but you both know you need to get to the bottom of what happened.

“Hey” he pulls back and cups your face with a hand on each cheek. “They’re young, they’re siblings. They’re gonna fight. We can talk them both out of it.”

You were used to the twins fighting. They always bicker, but never like this. “I know Lan but you should’ve seen how they spoke to each other. Poor Char was frightened too.”

He pulls you back in for another hug, “Love, you know how sassy they can be. I’m sure once we speak to them, they’ll get over it just as quick.” he reassures rubbing you up and down your back.

“Fine but your talking to Layla,” you mumble into his chest.

You feel his chest rumble with laughter under your head. “Lucky me.” Pulling back he places a soft sweet kiss to your lips, grabs your hand pulling you in the direction of the twins rooms.

He goes first, knocking on Layla’s door. “Mom not now.”

“Not Mom, its Dad.”

Lando rolls his eyes hearing his eldest groan. He can imagine her dragging her feet towards the door. She opens the door the tiniest bit and rushes back into her bed, tucking herself into her multiple blankets. “I still don’t wanna talk. I’m only letting you in to know if you beat Uncle Los today.” Layla loved going to golf with her dad, the only one of the family that seemed to enjoy it, especially when her and Carlos would team up against Lando.

“Well I don’t want to talk about golf so I guess you won’t know.”

“Ughh stop being annoying dad,” she says, voice now muffled as she turns shoving her face into the pillow.

“Hey if you tell me, I’ll tell you.”

A moment of silence passes, he knows she wants to talk about it. Heck if with anyone it would be with him. She contemplates it, but shakes her head. “It’s embarrassing.”

‘Lay, there’s nothing you need to be embarrassed about with me. You can tell me anything.” Lando moves closer to sit by her, rubs her back up and down. “i won’t force you to talk, but I need you to know this is what me and your mom are here for. No judgement with us, ever.”

He stays like that, comforting Layla for a bit, and once he realizes she isn’t ready to talk yet, he moves to get up. But immediately she senses him leaving and turns back around. She looks up to her dad with tears flooding her eyes, “No one likes me dad.”

That’s all it took, and the tears started flowing. She moved into his arms and surely the silent cries turned into louder sobs. In the moment, Lando didn’t even know what to say. He felt like he did when the twins were younger and he’d always look to you to figure out why they were crying, but in this moment he knew it was all him. He began with hugging her back and reminding her she needs to stop crying or she won’t be able to breathe. She slowly pulled back and began explaining seeing the concerned look on her dad’s face.

“Jake is the only guy I’ve ever liked. And I thought he liked me back too.”

“Okay..” Lando swallows, not expecting her to be so blunt about boys, but he urges her to continue anyway.

“We got along really well, he was really nice and all of my friends even told me they knew he liked me. And then, today at school, infront of all us, he asked Ava out.”

“I see, what did Ava say?”

“She said no, obvs. But still. She gets every guy and she doesn’t even have to try. If Jake can’t even like me now, when we’ve been getting on for so much longer, then no one is ever going to like me.”

Lando’s starting to get it now. Being a twin in highschool surely can’t be easy. Especially when these years can have a great effect on your self esteem.

“Baby, you can not put your self worth into the hands of a boy. You are so beautiful inside and out, smart, and hilarious.” “And amazing at golf,” he emphasizes to bring a small smile to her face

“You are going to find someone that loves you for you, but that isn’t something you need to worry about yet. I know it’s hard seeing Ava have it different but it doesn’t make you any less better in any way.”

“It’s just not fair Dad.”

“I know bub, it might feel like that now but come next week, next month, you and no one else are going to remember this. And if that dumb boy can’t see everything amazing in my daughter, he isn’t someone I want for you and you shouldn’t want that for yourself either. I mean there will never be a boy good enough for my girls but this once isn’t even getting close.”

She lets out some more snotty giggles and reaches to hug Lando again. “Love you dad”

“ I love you more. Now, do you see how Ava is not at fault here?”

“Yeah I do. I guess in the heat of the moment it was easier to blame her.”

“I get that, but let’s try and have a breath before going at each other next time? You girls are lucky to have a built in best friend, never let a boy get in between you two.” Layla nods, feeling guilty about her behaviour earlier and realising she must’ve scared Charlotte, she asks “Is Char okay?”

“She is bub, don’t worry. Anything else you need?” Lando confirms, he didn’t want to impose and give her some alone time before dinner.

“No that’s it. Thank you Dad.”

“No problem sweets,” he reaches down placing a kiss to her head. “Go get up and shower, you’ve got snot everywhere,” he teases, moving to leave the room.

“Wait, so did you beat Los?”

“Nope, got absolutely destroyed.”

“Omg I have to text him,” she says breaking into a fit of laughter as Lando shakes his head and opens the door to head out. “Yeah yeah be down in 30 for dinner.”

He heads down the stairs, joining you in the kitchen. “How’d it go?” You inquire as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind and rests his head on your shoulder. “Good, she was just feeling a little insecure.”

“Ava was the same,” you inform. “She was upset Layla thought she would do it to her on purpose, but I told her she knew it wasn’t but was acting in the heat of the moment.”

“Mhmm,” Lando mumbles, placing a few kisses to your neck, “just glad we got through to them.” You both settle into each others warmth when you hear giggles filling the house. All 4 girls come tumbling down the stairs heading straight for you. Amelia and Ava immediately cling to Lando having not seen him today. They pull him away, fillling him in on their day, while Layla comes to you holding Charlotte in her arms.

“I’m sorry mum,” she pouts. You can see the guilt eating away at her, she was always a softie at heart.

“That’s okay my love, how are you feeling now?” You wrap your arms around the 2 girls, trying to provide her some reassurance.

“Much better, i apologized to Ava too. But I’m really sorry for causing a ruckus at home.”

“I’m proud of you baby. Do not let anyone get in your head and make you forget how special you are, especially not a boy.” You press a big kiss to her cheek, “I love you sweets.”

Before Layla can reply, Char is jumping out of her arms and into yours, “Me tooo mummy.” You giggle, reaching to grab her and move to the couch to join the rest of your family. You all cuddle under a large blanket and decide pizza and movies is how you’ll spend the rest of the night.

[ma-yawntu]

mine, all mine. iv.

chapter four: divine

pairing: neteyam x female!metkayina!reader

summary: Your brother was always getting into trouble– and somehow it was always your responsibility to get him out of it.

word count: 3.9k

warnings: punching, blood, injury, lil surpriiiise, like one swear word

now playing... learning 037 by sandy crow

series masterlist

“Eyes,” you made the sign for eyes with your fingers, watching Kiri make the sign effortlessly back to you while Lo’ak and Neteyam fiddled with their fingers before clumsily copying your sign. “Good,” you smiled before moving onto the next sign, “now, this one is ears.”

You had been teaching the siblings sign language for the past few days, helping them with very basic signs to help them communicate important information while underwater. Kiri seemed to get the hang of it rather quickly while Neteyam and Lo’ak seemed to struggle, the two of them staring intensely at their own hands as they attempted to copy you. 

“What is the sign for ‘beautiful’?” Lo’ak asked, Kiri and Neteyam snickering to themselves. Lo’ak looked at his siblings with an offended expression, “I was just asking."

“It’s okay, Lo’ak,” you chuckled before showing him the sign. “You… Are… Beautiful,” you signed slowly, letting him copy your movements. You knew the boy had a crush on your sister because she was crushing just as hard on him, talking your ear off every night about him until you fell asleep. You found it cute at first until she found any and every chance to talk about him. You felt like you knew him more than he knew you. 

“You… Are… Beautiful,” Lo’ak copied, mumbling the words to himself. You laughed softly, reaching over to fix his finger and hand placement. Neteyam watched you correct his brother, wondering if he should mess up every now and then so you’d correct him too. 

The four of you sat on the beach, the waves gently caressing the shoreline as the sun began to set. The Sully family had been staying in your village for almost a month, all of them getting much better with their free diving and breathing, though you had very little to correct with Kiri, she was doing remarkably well for a Na’vi who grew up in the forest. 

You were almost thankful for the arrival of Jake Sully and his family– while you were disappointed you weren’t able to train with Teyoa as much anymore, their sudden arrival had made it difficult for your parents to arrange as many meals with possible mates and their families. You had the odd one here and there, but teaching the forest Na’vi the way of water had occupied a lot of your time and to you, it felt like time well spent. 

“Have you been practising your breathing?” You asked Neteyam as the two of you swam toward the middle of the reef. Tsireya had taken Kiri and Tuk with her to show them how to use the txampaysye [Gill Mantle] to their advantage while underwater, while you decided to spring a challenge on Neteyam since he’d promised to practise his breathing. 

“Yes,” he replied, trying to catch up with you as you used your tail to push you through the water. “I think I’m the only one of my siblings that actually practises.”

“We’ll see about that,” you sang, rolling onto your back as you swam toward the deepest part of the reef, the bioluminescent water glowing with your movements. Neteyam watched you sway through the water, mesmerised by your comfort in the water around you. “I want you to catch this,” his attention snapped back to your voice, watching as you held up a small glowing shell.

“Catch it?” He asked curiously. 

You smiled cheekily before throwing it a few metres away from you, he watched you do it before he looked at you again, eyes blown wide, “catch it,” you nodded.

Neteyam stared at you in disbelief, “how am I supposed to–”

“It’s getting awfully far away, Neteyam,” you teased, pursing your lips. 

Neteyam sucked in a long breath before diving down after it, doing his best to keep his eyes trained on the tiny glowing shell that just seemed to get further and further away the closer he got. The reef glowed brightly with different hues of blue, green and purple as he swam straight down, his hand reaching out and barely grazing the shell. He let out a small frustrated huff, bubble bobbing to the surface as you watched from above with a stupid grin on your face.

He finally wrapped his fingers around the shell, his ears sore from the pressure of being so deep in the reef. Neteyam quickly looked up, smiling to himself at seeing you floating above, watching him intently. He pushed off the plush sand, quickly rising to the surface with the shell tucked in his grasp. His chest was hurting from the lack of oxygen and when he finally surfaced, he took in a deep breath, panting slightly.

“I got it,” he beamed, showing you the shell.

You smiled, reaching out to grasp his wrist, “see? I knew you could do it,” you laughed, his skin suddenly feeling hot from you touching him. You were easily one of the most beautiful girls in the village, he understood why you were so sought after by the village boys but you seemed to be disinterested in them, it made him wonder if you’d ever consider him.

“Did you really have faith in me or was it a shot in the dark?” He asked curiously.

“A shot… in the dark?” You repeated, unfamiliar with the phrase.

“Right, I forget other people don’t know human phrases,” Neteyam laughed. You almost forgot his dad used to be one of the Sky People but then Lo’ak or Tuk would say or do something strange that would remind you of the fact. “It means to… to guess, you know?”

“Oh, I see,” you laughed, “No, it was not a shot in the dark, I had complete faith in your ability,” you retorted as you began swimming toward the shore. It was starting to get late, with the majority of the village either gathered at the beach for their meal or sleeping. 

Neteyam fiddled with the shell in his hand as the two of you walked down the beach. You had a habit of walking him home, he never pointed it out, wondering if you noticed your habit yourself or if you just liked talking to him– he’d like to think you were just too lost in the conversation to notice. 

You had warmed up to Neteyam a lot, you admit that you found him and his siblings a little annoying at first, only because you didn’t want to have to babysit them on top of tending to your own duties as the tsakarem, but you found them to be good company. You even enjoyed spending time with Neteyam, almost a little too much. Most of the men in the clan that attempted to court you didn’t seem interested in you, only interested in being the leader of the clan. They brought you gifts that you didn’t even like and only talked about themselves. But Neteyam– he was different. He seemed interested in getting to know you– something you’d never experienced before.

“What do your tattoos mean?” Neteyam asked curiously, eyeing the intricate art that adorned your ribs. You looked at him and he quickly clarified, “I just see a lot of people with tattoos on their arms, chest and face but I haven’t seen any like yours.”

You smiled at his nervousness before you spoke, recalling the story, “when I was born, I wasn’t breathing. Metkayina are born in the water and it’s tradition that we swim to take our first breath. But I did not move and I wasn’t breathing,” you said softly, reaching up to play with your hair. “But after a while, I was able to breathe on my own… My mother always told me that Eywa gave me a second chance.”

Neteyam listened to you intently, unable to take his eyes off you as you spoke, “when you get tattoos after your Iknimaya, they chronicle your life. And for me, I was given tattoos on my ribs as a way to signify the breath I was given by Eywa,” you laughed softly at the last part, recalling the story your mother told you again and again. “Silly, right?”

“Not at all,” Neteyam replied honestly, if anything, he thought that was a beautiful way to honour the life you were given. 

“I think that’s why my parents expect a lot from me,” you shrugged, “they just want me to live up to my ‘potential’,” you said the last part sarcastically, laughing to yourself. 

Judging by the way you said it, Neteyam thought you didn’t think you’d lived up to your parents expectations. “You don’t think you have?” Neteyam asked.

“Not in the way they want,” you replied. “They want me to be the Tsahik, be a good healer but– I don’t think it’s what I’m made for.”

“What are you made for?” Neteyam asked gently, eyes never leaving you.

You paused, Neteyam stopping beside you, “I’m not sure.”

You stood in the shallow water by the shore, plucking ripe fruits from the soft sand. Neteyam’s question had been haunting you since the night before– you felt like you were having a crisis thinking about what it was you wanted for your life, why Eywa kept you alive. You wanted so badly to be a warrior, but you knew your parents would never allow it, wanting to keep their oldest daughter safe. You understood why, you really did, but it didn’t make it any less hard. 

Your ears perked up at the sound of commotion behind you. You stood up from your spot in the shallow water, watching as your brother and his friends picked on Kiri. You frowned, dropping your woven bag of fruits on the sand with your blade, watching the scene for a moment. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but the moment Ao���nung tugged on Kiri’s arm, you cursed under your breath and started stomping up the sand. 

“Back off, fish lips!” Lo’ak got there first, emerging from the village as you moved up the sand bank. 

“Oh! Another four-fingered freak,” Ao’nung teased. Eywa, he was such a jerk sometimes.

“Look at his little baby tail!” You hadn’t even bothered to learn half of Ao’nung’s friends' names. One of them pulled on Lo’ak’s tail, starting to piss you off. Lo’ak shoved him away, your brother attempting to shove Lo’ak back.

“Leave us alone!” Kiri shouted, standing off to the side, not wanting to involve herself but still attempting to break up what was inevitably going to be a fight. 

No one seemed to notice your angry surge toward them, too busy trying to get under each other’s skin as Kiri watched on, unable to do much else. But they were quick to notice your presence when you pulled on Lo’ak’s arm, effectively pulling him behind you to shield him from your brother’s antics. You planted your hand flat on Ao’nung’s chest, pushing him back.

“Leave it alone,” you said lowly, staring daggers up at your brother.

“Uh oh, big sister’s here–” Ao’nung held up his arm, silencing his friend behind him. Lo’ak and Kiri stood behind you with bated breath, watching you diffuse the situation. 

“What is going on?” Neteyam’s voice almost surprised you, Ao’nung’s friends briefly turning their attention to the oldest forest Na’vi brother but your own brother didn’t take his angry eyes off you, trying to intimidate you. 

“We were just leaving,” you said, giving one last push to Ao’nung’s chest before you turned around, placing your hand gently on Kiri’s back as you guided her away from the beach. Neteyam and Lo’ak hesitated for a moment before following behind you.

“You sure you want to hang out with these freaks?” Ao’nung called behind you. Lo’ak and Neteyam quickly whipped their heads around, Lo’ak quick to march back down to your brother, standing chest to chest with him. 

“Hey! No, Lo’ak, don’t,” Neteyam urged, trying to push his brother back. You kept your hand on Kiri’s back, your breath hitched in your throat as you watched.

“You want to see something real cool?” Lo’ak tilted his head sarcastically.

Neteyam gritted his teeth, “Lo’ak–”

“I mean, I know it’s weird, huh?” Lo’ak wiggled his pinky in Ao’nung’s face. “I am a freak; an alien. But watch–” Lo’ak balled his hand up tight, “first you do this, then–”

Lo’ak quickly swung at your brother, once, twice, knocking him flat on his ass. Ao’nung’s eyes widened in disbelief, “don’t ever touch my sister again!” Ao’nung got up, quickly slamming his body into Lo’ak’s, the two of them tumbling into the sand. 

You watched as Neteyam laughed for a moment as his brother rolled around in the sand with Ao’nung and his friends, blindly throwing punches. You almost groaned when Neteyam scratched the back of his head, his shoulders shrugging as he went to join in, “Neteyam, don’t– and there he goes.”

“This is so stupid!” Kiri yelled, groaning in disbelief. 

“Ao’nung!” you shouted, grunting angrily before you surged forward, yanking on your brother’s tail from where he straddled Lo’ak, trying to throw a punch at him. You dragged him across the sand but you were quickly knocked to the side as one of Ao’nung’s friends tackled Neteyam, pinning his legs down and throwing a punch at his face, splitting his lip. 

You quickly stood up, “get off him!” you shouted, yanking on his kuru and punching him square in the face. The chaos subsided, Kiri gasping and throwing her hands over her mouth as Ao’nung’s friend stumbled back off Neteyam, clutching his bleeding nose and letting out a cry. 

“What the hell,” everyone comically turned to look at the source of the voice, Jake Sully standing there and taking in the bruised and bloodied faces of his kids and more terrifying– the Olo’eyktan’s kids. 

“Shiiit,” Lo’ak cursed. 

Your mother arrived shortly after Jake, ordering Ao’nung’s friends to go see the healers while she dragged your brother to his feet by his kuru and grabbed the back of your neck tightly, holding the two of you as your father came storming down the beach. Jake spoke quietly to Lo’ak and Neteyam, though his voice was stern, Lo’ak staring at the ground while Neteyam huffed, seeming ashamed. 

Jake grabbed his sons harshly by their shoulders, forcing them to stand in front of the Olo’eyktan, Neteyam and Lo’ak standing beside you. Your father directed his attention toward Jake for a moment before looking over his sons. Neteyam’s lip was split, a bruise blooming over his chest while Lo’ak had a bruise forming on his cheek and a split in his brow from where Ao’nung had thrown a punch. 

“Why are our children bleeding?” Your father questioned loudly, your ears pinning back at the sound. 

“Tell your father what happened,” Ronal ordered, pushing you and your brother forward. Ao’nung hung his head, seemingly able to close his big fat mouth for once. 

“It is my fault,” you stepped forward, feeling Neteyam, Lo’ak, Ao’nung and Jake look at you.

“I do not believe this,” your mother scoffed, swatting the back of your head.

“It is true, father,” you sighed, looking up at your dad who had his jaw clenched as he looked down at you, unsure if he believed a word you were saying. “I threw the first punch.” You massaged your bruised hand from where you had rather harshly punched Ao’nung’s friend in the face. 

“This is improper, child,” your father whispered harshly, “they are guests here, we do not do this–”

Neteyam and Lo’ak’s brows knitted together, your father believing you had hurt them when you were simply defending them and their sister. You were always getting your stupid brother out of trouble, he was going to owe you big time for this one, “it will not happen again, father.”

“Sir,” Neteyam stepped forward with his hands raised, Jake attempting to silence his son by grabbing at his shoulder. “This is not her doing–”

“Please, Neteyam,” you sighed, your hand wrapping around his arm.

“It is not right,” Neteyam looked at you, his golden eyes filled with such worry. He stared at you for a moment longer before glancing at your father, “she was defending me, sir. My brother and I…” he paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully, “It was my fault.”

Tonowari stared at Neteyam for a moment before looking at you, your hand squeezing Neteyam’s arm gently, your silent plea for him to take back what he said and let you take the blame– it would be easier for everyone. Tonowari looked to his mate and Ronal slowly shook her head, not believing that either of you were to blame for what happened.

“Fix him up,” your father ordered. You looked up at him and he quickly flicked his head toward the village. You bowed your head, your hand slipping down Neteyam’s arm to grasp his large hand, pulling him toward the village. As you walked in silence, you couldn’t help but note the roughness of his hands, feeling the calluses forming at the base of his fingers from his years of climbing and hunting in the forest. 

“Why did you take the blame?” Neteyam asked as you ushered him into the healing marui. You pushed him to sit down, quickly moving to find the things you needed to clean the cut on his lip and tend to the bruise on his chest and jaw. 

“It is easier,” you huffed, “I have a way with my father, he would have let me off easy. I was trying to do what is best for my brother and for your family, Neteyam,” you didn’t mean for it to sound as harsh as it did. 

“But what about what is best for you?” he asked, confused by your thinking. You grabbed some cloth and salves from your mothers collection, ignoring Neteyam’s question as you moved around the marui with urgency– you were frustrated and angry; annoyed that your brother keeps getting himself into trouble, annoyed that he won’t take accountability when he does something wrong, and annoyed that Neteyam wouldn’t let you just take the blame for it. 

Neteyam grabbed your wrist gently, stopping your angry pacing. Your chest was heavy, rising and falling rapidly as you tried to just breathe through your anger, “this is not about what I want,” you muttered, feeling hot tears forming in your eyes.

“It was not fair,” he replied softly as you wiped a tear from your cheek. “I…” he watched you for a moment, his heart aching at the sight of your tears, he stood up, gently resting a hand on your shoulder as he glanced at the side of your face, “please, do not cry.”

You sniffled softly, wiping your face with the back of your hand before turning to him with your salves, some water and a cloth, “I am fine,” you mumbled, “sit down, I’ll fix the cut on your lip.”

Neteyam hesitantly sat down, face still etched with worry as you got to work, gently rubbing an ointment into his chest over the purple bruise. It looked like it hurt, yet he was more concerned about you and your crying. You could feel his eyes on you as you worked, doing your best to ignore his breathtaking eyes as you cleaned the dried blood and sand from his chest and shoulders.

“Your hand,” Neteyam whispered. You paused for a moment before looking at your knuckles decorated with purple bruises.

“It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt,” you whispered back, grabbing at Neteyam’s jaw to inspect the cut on his lip. Neteyam was much taller than you, his lean figure towering over you when you both stood together, but even when he was sitting he was only mere inches shorter. 

You felt Neteyam’s hand wrap around your wrist with the bruised knuckles, pulling it away from his face to look at it. While he has no real healing experience, leaving that to his grandmother and sister, he still wanted to make sure you were okay. He stared at your bruises with such worry, as if he wasn’t literally bleeding in front of you. 

You used your other hand to tip his jaw back to look at you, finally catching his eyes, “Neteyam, I promise you, I am fine. You are the one that is bleeding.”

Neteyam huffed out a sigh, “yes, I know but–”

You gently put your hand over his mouth to shut him up, laughing softly, “I sneak out to train with one of the warriors in the village. That is why my punishment is looking out for you and your siblings,” you whispered, his eyes staring so intently at you, “I have broken my own nose trying to use a spear on a bag of sand, this–,” you lifted your hand, “–is nothing.”

You pulled your hand away from his mouth, reaching for your wet cloth to begin cleaning the blood off his slightly swollen lip. Neteyam stared at you fondly, pondering your confession, “you broke your own nose using a spear?”

“Do not ask,” you shook your head, laughing softly. You fell into a comfortable silence as you gently cleaned Neteyam’s face, your hand gently cradling his jaw. You noticed how he stared at you, a little smile tugging at his lips. You felt your face heat under his gaze, laughing nervously, “what?”

“You are beautiful,” he breathed, voice barely above a whisper. You felt your eyes widen, never having been complimented with such sincerity. You paused your movements, unable to function for a moment. Neteyam stood slowly, his head craning to look at you. He swore your eyes were the most beautiful he had ever seen, dazzling and bright, matching the colour of the crystal clear reefs your clan held dear. He slowly brought his hand up to cup your jaw, your breath hitching in your throat. “May… May I kiss you?”

You felt your eyes widen a fraction, your lips parting as a nervous breath squeezed past. You didn’t know what to do or to say, you had never been this close to anyone before, especially a boy you had grown to enjoy the company of. A smile tugged at your lips as Neteyam’s eyes flickered from your lips back to your eyes, “I… I think I would like that,” you whispered.

Neteyam’s smile was unmatched. You could feel his breath fanning over your face as he leaned in closer, your eyes instinctively fluttering shut– taking in the delightful silence around you, only listening to the sound of his breathing and the beating of your own heart.

You felt your heart begin to race as his lips grazed yours and–

“Sister! Are you okay, I heard from– Oh.” You and Neteyam leapt away from each other, you quickly coughed awkwardly while Neteyam tried to look like was doing something other than what your sister just caught you doing. “I’m– I’m sorry, I’ll uh, I’ll come back later,” Tsireya smiled awkwardly, bumping into a table in the marui then finally finding the doorway and leaving.

You quickly turned to Neteyam, “I should… I should go check on her,” you said awkwardly.

Neteyam scratched the back of his neck, “yeah, of course. I should go see my parents anyway– hope they haven’t skinned my brother yet–”

“Right, yeah,” you said sheepishly. The two of you stood there staring at each other for a moment before you bowed your head, your lips forming a tight line as you scooted past him toward the doorway. Way to ruin a moment, Reya. 

You paused in the doorway, wanting to give him something before you left. You quickly turned back, his eyes wide as you approached him again. You stood up on your tiptoes, one hand gently holding his face as you planted a kiss to his cheek. You didn’t wait for him to react before you bowed your head and left, determined to find your sister before she babbled.

a/n: damn, so close

taglist: @s0urw00lf, @peqch-pie, @greatsstuffsposts, @lavzxx, @quaint-and-curious-being

[the-oblivious-writer]

Let the Light in |One-shot [1]|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader | Dewey Riley and Fem!Reader

One-shot: A Classic Whodunit

Summary: Moving to Woodsborro was certainly not your willing decision. Change has always been hard for you, so what better way to cope than to make everyone else's life almost as miserable as yours?

Warning(s): Swearing, & mentioned family issues (?)

Notes: Finally got around to re-writing this and I definitely prefer this version. There's more Tara x Reader stuff and a little more details regarding R's past. Still based off this scene from Gilmore Girls and takes place when R just moved to town. This'll still be the last thing I'm able to post for one my stories for a bit, but I'm glad it's still something

Masterlist

The fall breeze hits you as you walk out of the school building. You continued reading from your book as you walked with your head hung low paying no mind to your surroundings, too engrossed with the words you read. That was until you caught a glimpse of a familiar figure in the corner of your eye, your brief suspicions immediately being confirmed when the person spoke. 

Dewey—who was previously leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed—began to follow you, uncrossing his arms. “Hey,” he nodded at you and you didn’t reciprocate, only turning your head to look at him briefly before turning your attention ahead of you while putting your book in your back pocket. “How was school?” Dewey immediately followed with. 

“Great,” you couldn’t help the blatant disinterest in your tone. 

“Learn anything good?” You could already tell he was amping up to something. There was a certain eagerness in his voice. An eagerness to segway into what he truly wanted to talk about. 

“Oh yeah, tons of things. I got gold stars plastered all of my forehead,” you remarked with as much sarcasm you could muster at the moment. 

“I got an interesting call today. Wanna know who it was from?” He asked and you couldn’t care less. 

“Not really,” you answered honestly, your tone still showing anything but amusement.

“So Mr. Collier—you know he owns the local market?”

“If you say so.” 

“Said you came in today.”

“He did?” You rhetorically asked; you looked both ways before you and Dewey now walked alongside a road. 

“And he said you took some money out of a little donation cup to help repair the roads. I told him he was crazy, you wouldn’t do that, you weren’t a thief, that he was just trying to start trouble and then I hung up on him.” Most of what Dewey was saying was going in one ear and out the other. You’ve grown good at tuning people out, intentional or not. Still Dewey continued. “Now don’t get me wrong, I enjoy hanging up on Mr. Collier. The guy’s nothing but a jerk—and he is crazy. But I was just wondering, if maybe, any of the other things were true.”

“What do you think?” You questioned with annoyance at the edge of your voice. You were starting to grow more and more impatient as he continued to yammer on. 

“I think if you tell me that what he’s saying is not true then I’m going to believe it’s not true,” he elaborated.

“Okay. It’s not true.” 

“That doesn’t sound very convincing—”

The two of you were now on a dirt path as you stopped in your tracks and finally turned to face Dewey. While one hand moved as you spoke, the other one was clenched into a fist to your side. “—Look, what exactly do you want from me? First I get forced to move here, now I’m stuck with you most of the time. I’m put in this place—now in a school that has us doing the pledge of allegiance in six-different-languages! I’m supposed to be this happy-go-lucky person after being taken away from my home, my friends—and now you want what from me?!” 

You didn’t need this. You were fine living in a crappy apartment. You were fine knowing the city you lived in like the back of your hand. You were fine having your best friend within walking distance. 

It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. Your father had no right to ship you off just because he couldn’t take his precious image being ruined. He was on the verge of sending you to military school before your mom stepped in. Their marriage had been falling apart for some time but this was definitely the nail in the coffin. 

“I’m just trying to help you,” Dewey sighed as his own patience was beginning to grow thin. Dewey knew about your complicated relationship with your father. He knew what led to you ending up in Woodsborro. He knew things about you before you even knew them. He just wanted to protect you, shield you from harm. Even if he knows where that has gotten him in the past.

“Well stop trying. Stop talking to me, stop following me, and stop asking me questions! Just stop!” You waved your hands in aggravation as you spoke, your temper and annoyance taking over you with each second. You were pissed and upset with every aspect of your life. Unfortunately, Dewey found himself being on the receiving end of your frustration. 

“That’s what you want?”

“Yes!”

“That’s what you really want?” He wasn’t yelling but his voice grew louder with his second question to match your own tone.

“Yes,” you spoke with more conviction. 

“Fine. You got it, kid!” Dewey said as he threw his hands up.

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome!”

You both continued walking, both of you walking tensely as you stepped onto the bridge that went over the lake that was not far from where you two were previously standing. You each refused to look at the other as you walked along the bridge. When you were halfway on the bridge, you suddenly felt yourself being shoved. In a blink of an eye, you go from standing on the bridge to standing in the lake soaking wet. You pushed your hair back to look at Dewey who was still walking with his back facing you. He didn’t pay the person he just shoved into a lake any mind. 

Great.

By the time you successfully lifted yourself up and got back on to the bridge, Dewey was gone. Nobody liked soggy socks but maybe you deserved it. Maybe. Even if you were far too stubborn to admit it. 

—

The next day people were crowded around Mr. Collier’s store. He was ranting about something with his hands going up and down as he spoke angrily. When Tara walked closer she finally saw what all the ruckus was about. 

Apparently someone had drawn the outline of a body right outside of his store and put up caution tape. It was obviously just a prank.  If there was actually a murder, the police wouldn’t let it hit daylight. Let alone bring attention to it by drawing an outline of the body with white chalk. They weren’t living in the interwar period. But Mr. Collier refused to see this as he argued with Sheriff Hicks, eyes flickering back and forth from the sheriff and the outline as he yelled. 

“What am I supposed to do?! I have a dead body right in front of my store!” 

“No. You have a chalk outline of a dead body in front of your store,” she said as a matter of fact. “One of my guys is doing a headcount to see if anyone is missing. Until then just sit tight? This is probably just some prank done by one of the highschoolers.” She sighed before walking away from the dramatic man. 

Tara couldn’t help but laugh as she looked over at the outline again. Nothing good ever happened in Woodsborro. Other than the fact that a few murders from the 90’s are practically a part of their school curricula, it was a boring ass town. So one should never take entertainment like this for granted. 

Sheriff Hicks came back just a few minutes later and informed everyone—mainly Mr. Collier—that everyone had been accounted for and it really was just a prank. 

“But it looks so real! Where’d they get the police tape?” The man was still in disbelief if his tone was anything to go by.

“Kids have their ways,” Hicks shrugged, resting a hand on her hips. She had gone through ghostface before and even her ptsd wasn't flaring up from what was in front of her. The man needed to relax.

“Who would be depraved enough to pull a stupid prank like this?!” 

As if on cue, Tara’s eyes found you leaning against a light pole across the street as you wore a devilish smirk. It shifted into a small smile when you met her eyes. You looked away for a moment then back at her before you walked away. 

Of course it was you. This had your name plastered all over it. You might as well have been posing at the scene of the crime. She should have known better. You have been wreaking havoc from the moment you stepped into town. Nothing good ever came from that stupid smirk she’s become all too familiar with. Everything about you annoyed her to no end. There was just something she couldn't put her finger on. It was driving her insane. You were going to drive her insane. 

—

The next day, Tara returned to the market so she could fulfill her duties as the snacks retriever for tonight’s movie marathon with the others. After seeing that everything—your mess—was cleaned up and Mr. Collier was less frantic, she made her way inside the market. While inside, she bumped into Wes. They talked for a few minutes as she continued shopping. Wes was nice, but romance wise? Tara didn’t know how to feel. Wes is kind, good looking, a gentleman—what was stopping Tara from going out with him?

“I’m going to ring these up but I’ll meet you outside?” Tara said to Wes and he nodded with a smile. Tara returned it before checking out the things she bought and waited outside the store for Wes with her plastic bags full of snacks in hand. She suddenly felt a light tap on back before she turned around and saw you.

“Should you be standing around here all alone? I heard this is a pretty dangerous corner,” you teased while emphasizing the word ‘pretty’ by motioning with your hands. Tara looked at you then immediately looked away as she crossed her arms.

“I’m fine,” she said—trying in a nonchalant tone.

“Feeling succinct today?” You looked her up and down, noticing her tense demeanor.

“Pretty much.” She refused to give you anymore than that. She was not going to buckle. She was not going to fall for your witty remarks or snide comments.

“Hm,” you said while lightly nodding. “Did I do something to offend you?”

“Me? No.” Now she was finally looking at you, meeting your eyes.

“Good.” 

“You might wanna ask that same question to Dewey though.”

“Meaning?” You raised your eyebrows as if you didn’t have a single clue.

From your facial expressions to your tone—how were you so unbothered? How could you be so clueless? So dense? Fuck it. Maybe she was going to buckle and fall but you were just too irritating to resist the temptation. “You’ve got this whole town coming down on him,” Tara’s voice became more defensive.

“Reeeally? How’d I do that?” You feigned a look of surprise and concern, matching your conceited tone

She was going to punch you.

“You know how you did that,” she replied because you couldn’t be that dull. You just couldn’t. 

“I’m quite familiar with the bluebook laws in this town so you’re talking about a lot of things. Dropping a gum wrapper, strolling arm and arm with a member of the opposite sex on a Sunday,” you satirized with that vexing voice of yours.

Maybe you were that dull. Tara pointed down with both her arms at the chalk you both stood on. They were able to clean up the police tape no problem, but the chalk was going to take more elbow grease. 

You looked to where she was pointing before saying, “Ah.” You moved your feet off of the outline before continuing, “What about it?”

“You did it,” Tara said. “Everyone knows you did it. They had a meeting about it.”

“You actually go to those bizzaro town meetings?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the thought. You shook your head, “God those things are so To Kill A Mockingbird.” 

“My friend’s mom is a sheriff, so she’s the one who went. And Dewey went. When he got there everyone ganged up on him. They all want you gone,” Tara told you with no remorse.

“Wow. Bummer.”

“And he’s standing there, yelling at everyone, and defending you—now he’s a pariah for the shit you’ve caused in just a month of being here.” You looked down to the side, processing what you were just told. You wore a look Tara wasn’t able to read. “Of course you don’t care about any of this,” she rolled eyes.

“I didn’t say that,” you said. 

“Go away. I don’t want to talk to you anymore,” she waved you away with her hands, shooing you, before looking away.

“Fine…” You started to walk away but Tara’s frustration got the best of her and you stopped and turned back around when you heard her speak again. 

“You’re an asshole!” 

“Got a second wind, huh?” You tried to hide the displeasure you suddenly felt.

“You’re making his life hard. And for what? For your own amusement? You’re sadistic.” You could tell she had been holding that in. You also wouldn’t comment on how you found the pout she was wearing a little cute. “Second wind over.”

“I didn’t realize they were coming down so hard on him…”

“Funny, I never pegged you as clueless,” Tara remarked, annoyance still evident in her voice.

“I get it…” She gave you a look. “No no no, I do, I get it,” you lightly nodded at her. Contrary to your previous tone, your voice now held interest and understanding—and so did the look you gave her. Your eyes flickered between her and the chalk outline before asking the question that’s been in the back of your mind, “Did you at least think it was funny?”

Tara tried to fight the smile on her face as she rolled her eyes, but this time rolling them in a more playful manner. “That is so not the point!” She hoped you didn’t hear the laugh that threatened to come out. 

“Yeah… you thought it was funny,” you said proudly. 

“Shut up.” She could no longer meet your eyes, now looking back at the ground.

Before either of you could say anything else, the door to the market opened and Wes walked out with a few bags of his own. “I got the—oh hey,” Wes cut himself off to greet you.

He didn’t know you personally, just that you already had a few run-ins with his mom in just a month of being here. Did that make him weary of you? Sure. But you weren’t the first kid at his school to have run-ins with his mom. Your reasons were just more… creative. 

“This is Wes,” Tara introduced the two of you. Looking between you both as you two made eye contact.

“Boyfriend?” You asked without looking away from Wes.

“No! I mean,” she cleared her throat. “No. Not boyfriend. We’re just friends.”

“Right,” was all you said as a reply while you continued to stare him down. “How you doin’?” 

“Good. Yeah I’m good,” Wes responded with a tightlipped smile. 

“Okay see you around,” Tara quickly cut in before this awkward interaction could go any further. 

You finally turned your attention back on Tara, looking at her. “Seems to turn out that way. Doesn’t it?” Your tone was underlined with something Tara couldn’t place. Before she could respond, you turned around and walked away to who knows where.

You were truly something. 

—

You let Tara’s words sink in as you made a detour to Dewey’s trailer. Deep down you knew Dewey didn’t deserve the way you were coming down on him. Especially when you could probably say he’s done more shit for you than your father has. 

Moving to Woodsborro was definitely not at all ideal. You hated change and everything that came with it. All it did was bring more anxiety into your life. So when your mother informed you you would be leaving Brooklyn to move to some town in California, you didn’t handle the news well. You still weren’t handling it well. There were a few reasons as to why you moved, your father being the root of each one. But although you understood part of it, what you didn’t understand is why you had to move so far away. Maybe that’s part of why you’re so hard on Dewey. If your mom was moving and starting fresh, it makes sense she would want to start it surrounded by close friends. But did she have to pick one that lived so far away?

You didn’t know a bunch about her dynamic with Dewey other than the fact that they met in 1998 during the ghostface attacks. They eventually got close and became friends. They must have been great friends considering she made him your Godfather. 

You also knew Dewey was a former Sheriff. A former Sheriff that’s aware of your trip of a track record. He always made sure to keep an eye on you and it was extremely annoying. A nunsense really. It’s like you couldn’t breathe for five seconds without him hovering over you.

Your mom was a nurse, you didn’t get to see much of her. She always took as many shifts as she could, more shifts meant more money. More money is definitely something your family could use. Since your mom was always working, you often found yourself stuck with Dewey. You quickly grew sick and tired of him. But now here you were, making your way to Dewey’s trailer as you went over everything in your head. You knew you were the asshole in all this. Dewey was just trying to help you. He didn’t need you making it harder for him than it already was.

You knew what you had to do, even if it meant forcing out the words. Apologizing was not one of your specialties. You went over the exact words you wanted to say, sighing, before knocking on the door to Dewey’s trailer.��

Dewey answered the door, already knowing who it was. “Hey, kid,” he greeted just a second after he opened the door for you.

“Hey. Mind if I…?” You pointed to the inside of his trailer with raised eyebrows and he nodded before letting you inside. “So uh…” You shoved your hands in your pockets as you looked around as if you have never been in his trailer before. As if you hadn’t already spent most of your nights sleeping on the beat up mattress that was now leaned up against the wall. Dewey looked at you with his arms crossed and expression warm. You felt like he always wore a warm expression no matter what. “Hey,” you finally said once you realized you lost your train of thought.

He chuckled a bit before saying, “You already said that.”

“Right, well I wanted to…. Apologize,” you said while looking at the ground, playing with the fabric of your pockets.

“Okay. I’m listening,” Dewey replied as he took a seat on his futon.

“Oh, that was actually the apology.”

He hummed before inquiring, “For…?” You didn’t need to look at him to know he was enjoying this. 

You exhale, tilting your head back as you look at the ceiling. You finally looked back at him before saying, “I’m sorry for making things harder than it needs to be.”

“Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate that,” he looked at you with a soft expression. You didn’t get a lot of those.

“No problem,” you give a brief smile before you begin to turn around. But before you’re able to leave Dewey’s trailer, you hear his voice again. 

“Why don’t you stay for dinner? I know your mom’s working tonight and Stephen’s off at a friend’s house. What do you say?” His offer caught you off guard. You certainly weren’t expecting that after all that you’ve put him through. But you also didn’t feel prone to declining it like you usually would be. 

“Uh, yeah. That sounds nice, actually,” there was still a bit of reluctance in your voice but it still held honesty. You were feeling something indescribable. You don't think you have ever felt it before, or maybe you just never felt it often. Dewey cared about you. He wanted to be there for you. It was a strange feeling, but not a dreadful one. 

You spent the remainder of your night in Dewey’s trailer; you talked and joked with one another as you ate leftover pizza with the television playing in the background. You always ate dinner alone. No one was ever around to eat with you and it didn’t take long for you to get used to it. It was different eating dinner with Dewey. To have someone to share a meal with. It was just a matter of whether it was a good or bad difference. 

Maybe for once you shouldn’t dread on your spiraling thoughts and enjoy the moment.

The next morning, you woke up to Dewey cursing at his toaster. You lazily pushed yourself up by your elbows, leaning forward and rubbing your eyes with one of your hands. “Damn toaster!” You heard Dewey curse before you heard something clattering. You pushed your blanket off of you before rolling off of the mattress and onto the floor then got up to see what was going on. 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He asked once he saw you before continuing to whack his toaster. 

“No. You’re good,” you yawned. “But—uh, why are you assaulting your toaster?” You looked between him and the toaster with raised eyebrows.

“I’ve had this hunk of junk for ten years and suddenly it just stops working,” he answered with a huff as he continued to hit the toaster's side. 

“I don’t know if ten years is suddenly.”

He waved his hands up in the air, purposely dropping the screwdriver he had on to the counter in the process. He let out a defeated sigh as he said, “Forget it,” pushing the toaster away from him. “I have to grab a few things. Are you going to be fine here or do you want me to drop you off?” 

You looked at the toaster as you thought to yourself. “I”ll be fine,” you said and he patted your shoulder as he made his way towards his keys. 

“Breakfast is on the table—I shouldn’t be out long!” He called out before leaving through the trailer door.  As soon as he left, you went for his tool box. You remembered seeing it the first time you came over. After grabbing the tool box, you grabbed the toaster and got to work. It actually wasn’t that bad. There was just some tightening and cleaning that had to be done. By the time you finished, you had a little over ten minutes to spare before Dewey was home. It wasn’t until later that night he noticed something was different about his toaster.

“My toaster works,” he said with shock. This toaster was complete garbage just a few hours ago. What happened? He looked over to see you with your nose in your book, not paying him any mind. Then it dawned on him and he couldn't help the smile that grazed his face as he looked at you. “Thanks, kid.” 

“Didn’t do anything,” you simply replied before getting up from your mattress and grabbing your light jacket. “I’m going for a walk,” you reached for the handle before pausing. “I'll be back in a few,” you then added before leaving.

Dewey was still admiring his toaster when you returned.

-----------

A/N: tara and r are both sarcastic little shits in different fonts

Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno @smut-religiously777 @beautifulmongerbanditsalad @vanatalye @alexkolax@andsoigotabutterfly @ajortga @rroyale-109 @alliecavell

[allisonlol]

HII !! could you do dazai, chuuya and fyodor with a s/o that forgot pretty much everything from their past/forgets a lot in the present due to trauma? if possible male reader, and if not gn works aswell! thank you :))

a/n: felt this req hard LOL

warnings: memory loss, past trauma (not elaborated on)

(Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor) With a S/O with Memory Loss From Trauma

Dazai

i feel like dazai can relate in some ways because he too has immense trauma but instead of forgetting it, he remembers it too well

therefore in a way he's grateful that ur brain is blocking those memories so u don't have to remember the pain

dazai had noticed your forgetful behavior the second he met you, and had already categorized it as due to trauma in your past

honestly finds your forgetfulness adorable but it also enrages him bc someone hurt you enough to cause it

simply does not comment on any of this though. if you mention that you forgot something that happened literally yesterday he'll simply smile at you (is that a hint of sadness in his expression?) and reassure u that it's okay

will text u updates throughout the day to make sure u aren't forgetting anything

pictures pictures pictures!!!! literally photographs everything u guys do together so you can always look back to remember :)

but unbeknownst to you, dazai will secretly do some deep digging into your past to find out exactly what happened and who to get revenge on <3

^trust me when i say they will deeply regret everything they had ever done to you

Chuuya

it's canon that chuuya can't remember what... the first 7 years of his life? so he totally understands

he won't question u at all abt the reasonings for your memory loss unless u wanted to talk abt it

does get worried abt your current forgetfulness though. with a job as strenuous as being in the mafia, having a good memory is important

^if any of the higher ups knew you weren't "sufficient enough" in that department, despite your other strengths, you would be disposed of

this added stress doesn't help you at all but chuuya does his best to keep you safe

^having a boyfriend who is also your executive is very useful in this aspect

leaves little notes and reminders on your desk so u won't forget anything important

hell, chuuya will even fill out reports for you if u were having trouble remembering the events that took place

i feel like he would also pay very close attention to everything u guys do together so, if you forgot, he would be able to tell you all about it

Fyodor

another one who categorized your memory loss as due to trauma the second he met you

unlike the others tho, he will question u about it

if you’re honest with him & say that it’s due to traumatic events, he’ll ask if you want him to do anything about it for you (in other words, find and eliminate the ones who caused it 😊)

^if you say no to this, he’ll nod and agree with u but secretly hunt them down on his own

however if you lie to fyodor and say that you’re just forgetful (not due to trauma) he’ll frown & keep asking probing questions until he gets the truth out of u

has he heard of privacy? like damn

^its out of love tho. not saying it’s right but fyodor shows his care by learning as much abt u as possible. he needs to know everything, good or bad

finds your current forgetfulness adorable, albeit irritating at times (remember who we’re talking abt here)

if you forgot an event or important piece of information he will get slightly annoyed with you & might say some insensitive things 😬

^tho once he sees that he’s upset you, fyodor will usually sigh and apologize

recommends u keep a journal for reminders, however he also logs all events that u do alone or together so you won’t forget in the future

taglist: @deadmitochondria @miycutie @scul-pted @exorcisedstraydog @chuuyasboots @shy-socially-awkward-intovert @beandaifuku @stygianoir @sonder-paradise @dreaming-of-ambedo @nervousyetconfidentway @beautiful-is-boring @irethepotato @serenareiss @thescrunkly @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @creamygojo @disa-ster

[buckymorelikefuckme]

so while sitting at the golf range, i saw a man walk by with his dog—a dilf type of man—and it got me thinking…

ari levinson x fem reader

idk the word count bc i wrote it on here but it’s not too long, i promise! **18+ ONLY** for implied size kink and mentions of praise kink and illusions to filthy thoughts ok thank ♡

you huff and stomp your foot after swinging and missing the ball, yet again. why is golf so hard? and why is the ball so tiny? it hardly seems fair to have a club that long and such a small target to hit.

you try to focus and remember what little you learned before coming to the range, but it’s sweltering out and you’re frustrated, so all you want to do is throw your club as far as possible. at least then you’d get something on the green.

someone clears their throat from behind you.

“what?” you snap as you spin on your heel, the glare you had ready to aim at the person smoothing out quickly once you see them.

it’s a man, tall and broad and tanned and very shirtless, torso glistening with sweat amidst the hair on his chest. his shaggy hair is tied back messily and his cheeks are ruddy beneath his beard from the heat.

“hi,” the man greets with a grin that has your tummy fluttering. “i was walking by,” he continues, waving at the sidewalk several yards away (which is another thing—what’s with golf courses being in the middle of neighborhoods?!) and you feel slight shame at having been caught throwing a fit. “saw you were having some trouble and thought maybe i could offer my help.”

you bite your lip. “that’s kind of embarrassing,” you mumble.

he shrugs. “everyone has to start somewhere.”

and that’s… actually very true and also terribly kind of him to say, so you agree to let him give you some pointers. he tries by just telling you how to fix your stance and your grip, all from a respectable distance, even going as far as showing you by mimicking it and how to follow through on your swings. but after you still keep missing the ball entirely or only hitting it a few feet and veering sharply to the right, he clicks his tongue, pursing his lips in thought.

“would you be okay if i show you in a more, uh, hands on way?” he asks.

you simply shake your head in response, because if you opened your mouth right now you’d probably start begging, and not just for golfing tips.

he approaches calmly, stepping up behind you. his body heat in proximity to yours doesn’t help with the summer sun beating down on both of you, but you can’t find it in you to really complain, especially as you hear him take a breath before he finally wraps his toned arms around you.

“left hand here,” he instructs, voice low in your ear, “right hand below it, yes, there you go. keep this arm straight, okay? like this.”

he does a few fake swings with you, his hands wrapped around yours. it’s damn near impossible to pay attention, but you’re really trying your best. mostly.

“okay, now, keep your eyes on the ball when you swing. don’t look out to where you want it go, just keep looking down at the ball. alright?”

you turn your head, looking up and meeting his eyes and your breath hitches when you exhale. he’s so big, easily dwarfing you with how close he is to you, the smell of his sweat hitting your nose and, instead of finding it gross, you find that it has you wanting to clench your thighs together.

“eyes on the ball,” he repeats, sounding a lot more gruff than before. it’s hard, but you tear your gaze away and do as he says. “good. feet shoulder width apart. that’s perfect.”

you fight a shiver and bite your lip again. this is not the time or place for your praise kink to kick in.

“i’m gonna let go and step back, then you can swing. okay?”

you nod, holding your stance and waiting for the all-clear, and when you get it you take a deep breath and slowly let it out, following what he’s told you and swinging… and you hit it straight down the green! it doesn’t go too far, but it’s the furthest you’ve hit a ball yet, and you let out a shocked, happy laugh.

“oh my god, i did it!” you giggle, bouncing on your toes and spinning to face him, catching his stare snapping up from your ass to your face. you’re suddenly extremely happy you chose some of your tightest athletic shorts.

“that was great,” he praises with a smile.

you let out another giggle, this one a bit higher in pitch from your nerves. “thanks for your help. i really appreciate it.”

“it’s no problem at all, i’m happy it paid off.”

“is there any way i could repay you?” you blurt, not wanting to miss the chance at extending your time with him, also not wanting to come across as too eager and missing by a mile.

he hums teasingly, pretending to think about it, then smirks. “how about we start with lunch?” he suggests, eyes roving down your body and back up. “and then i can give you another tip.”

he winks and you burst into even more giggles at the terrible joke, but you can’t even be mad about it. he looks quite pleased with himself at the sound of your laughter.

(and then, later, he looks smug as fuck at the sounds of your absolute ruin by him.)

…OKAY BYE😬😇😅😂♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

[thoughtssvt]

words of wisdom

innocence protection program pt. 3

yuuji is having trouble asking questions in school and nanami gives him a word of advice

Yuuji was never one to ask questions. He never felt the need to. He liked learning what was interesting, but he mainly just liked seeing his friends every day. It posed a problem the older he got. He found himself interested in very little when it came to learning and eventually he began missing important instructions to his assignments.

He felt left behind, looking around seeing all his classmates seeming to know what to do inherently. He tried his best, he really did. He tried hard to pay attention in class so he wouldn't get left behind anymore. He tried to blend in even if he didn't know what was going on, raising his hand to answer a question that sounded like gibberish, earning some soft snickers from his fellow classmates. His ears burned bright red as the teacher called on someone else. He hated feeling left behind, but more than anything he hated everyone finding out that he was behind.

So he never raised his hand again.

Even if he couldn't complete his projects, let alone his classwork. Unbeknownst to him that the teacher had contacted Nanami in concern of his disinterest.

“Are you doing alright in school, Yuuji-kun? You haven't come to me for help in a while,” Nanami said nonchalantly as if he was asking what Yuuji wanted for lunch the next day. He looked at the boy with a neutral stare, seeing the nervousness in his son, Yuuji averting his eyes, pulling the covers up to his nose, socked feet fiddling under the blanket. “It’s okay to ask questions, you know that, right?” Nanami started again, this time more direct.

Yuuji wilted at his father’s words, though shock shone through more than anything. “You think it’s okay to ask questions?” Yuuji whispered softly.

“Of course I do. Questions are important, I ask my coworkers a lot of questions when I’m at work," Nanami confirmed.

“Aren’t you worried that you’re gonna look stupid?” The boy sat up, the conversation taking an interesting turn.

Nanami ruffled his hair, letting a soft chuckle leave his nose. The feelings Yuuji was going through were more than familiar to him. “I used to, yes,” he nodded his head as he reminisced his early adolescence. “But do you know what I learned?” He quirked his brow at his son, continuing when Yuuji shook his head. “I learned that I would rather look stupid for a second than feel stupid for the rest of my life.” A soft smile spread across Kento’s lips as he watched the light bulbs flicker on in Yuuji’s head. “Asking questions are important. You shouldn’t feel bad for wanting to learn more, alright?”

The next day Yuuji made it a point to try it at least once. At least one question out of the many he knew he would have throughout the day. He trusted Nanami, but he was still nervous, unsure if asking questions was as helpful as Nanami set it out to be.

From then on it was as if Yuuji’s thoughts were only filled with questions. He was amazed with how one question made so many things click into place. Nanami watched as Yuuji’s grades improved and, most importantly, how much more excited he was to go to school.

A/N : I actually had this exact conversation with my nephew a few weeks ago so I thought it was fitting to write about it. I hope you enjoyed! feel free to use my ask box for any requests!

j‹𝟹

Innocence Protection Program masterlist

The Small Spaces Between Infinity masterlist

a dad gojo and kid megumi series

Jujutsu Daycare master

an au where the jujutsu high students are young children attending jujutsu daycare

[fluentmoviequoter]

Self-Sacrificial

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: You like Street as more than a friend, but think he will never feel the same. When you nearly lose him, you accuse him of not caring about you or anyone else because you can't see the truth.

Warnings: quick joke about being dead, angst to fluff, arguments, Street gets hit by a car, fluffy comfort

Word Count: 2.7k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“What are you doing?” Street asks from above you. He taps your leg with his foot as he continues, “You dead or something? You’ll be hard to replace.”

“I’ve been waiting for you,” you answer. “You’re late.”

As you open your eyes, Street shakes his head and offers a hand. You accept his help and allow him to pull you from the concrete beside the S.W.A.T. HQ entrance. Street leads you inside, but before you can greet the rest of your team, Lynch calls you into her office.

“If I get fired for waiting for you, I’ll be very mad,” you mumble as you pass Street.

“I need to talk to you as a woman, not as a lieutenant,” Lynch explains as you close her office door.

“Okay,” you murmur slowly. “As long as I’m not in trouble.”

“No,” she assures with a smile. “It’s about your relationship with Street.”

“Relationship?” you repeat. “We’re not-“

Lynch raises her hand to stop you. “I know, I’ve heard it. You’re friends, that’s all. If that’s what you’re sticking with, fine. But… you and Street are special.”

“You’re still talking as my accidental mother figure, right?”

Lynch rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue with your terminology. From the moment you began working with her, she took an unexpected role in your career and in your life.

“Just be careful, okay. Lie to yourself if you need to, but don’t let the blinders you keep on get in the way of everything else,” she concludes. “And if you decide to take those blinders off, let me know and we’ll get ahead of IA.”

“Blinders,” you whisper. “Sure thing. Thanks for the talk.”

Hondo knocks before he opens Lynch’s door. “We’re rolling.”

You nod at Lynch and then rush out after Hondo to join your team. Those blinders she mentioned are a topic you’d rather ignore. They’re important to you because the moment you look at Street the way you want to – as more than a teammate and friend – you’ll be exposed to the harsh truth that Street will never see you the same way. The only mirror image in this situation is the heartbreak you’ll see looking back at you.

As you climb into Black Betty, Tan and Luca are discussing a new restaurant opening this weekend. You should be used to their oddly timed topics by now, you think.

“I’d be happy to test it out for you,” Street offers. “Give me a few hours to get a date and then you can have a full review by tomorrow.”

Your jaw clenches. Street is your best friend, but that doesn’t make this any easier. Whenever he says or does something that reminds you of his ability and desire to date women who aren’t you, you take a step back. The teasing, the competition, and incredible bond you have with him strains when you do this, and he suffers because of your buried feelings, but losing him may be better than learning you can never have him.

“What do you think?” Street asks you.

You shrug and keep your attention on your helmet.

“C’mon,” he presses. “Everybody has an opinion on good restaurants.”

“You certainly do,” you mumble.

“What does that mean?”

Deacon and Hondo share a look that goes unnoticed by both you and Street. With your eyes down, and Street’s locked on you, it’s incredible to the rest of your team that you can’t actually see what is right in front of you.

“I’m sure it’s a great place for dates,” you agree.

“And?” Street questions.

“And what?”

“What is wrong with you?”

You shrug again and Hondo cuts Street off to explain the plan for the raid. He puts you and Street on opposite sides of the house, which is probably in your best interest.

“You can’t just ignore me,” Street whispers harshly as you exit Black Betty.

“We’re working,” you remind him.

“If you can keep working without getting exhausted from the back and forth of being my friend and ignoring me because you’re jealous about my date or something, I can do my job and ask a question.”

You take a deep breath, willing yourself not to respond to his low jab. “Let’s just finish the raid, Street, and if you want to make up more stupid ideas about why I don’t want to talk to you sometimes later, I’ll try my best to listen.”

Street reaches for your arm, but you step away quickly to join Deacon.

“You’re not just hurting him, you know?” Deacon murmurs.

You don’t answer, but as you follow Deacon to the west side of the house, you find yourself thinking about Street again. The feelings that stir within you every time you see Street hurt you far worse than they will ever hurt him. If you can survive his lack of feelings, he can deal with you getting some space.

“22-David, in position on 3 side,” Luca radios.

“30-David, ready on 4,” Deacon adds.

“26-David, go for 2,” Street says.

“20-David, breach on my mark,” Hondo commands. “3, 2, go, go, go.”

You follow Deacon into a side door and through a tight hallway. As you enter the kitchen in the back corner of the house, there’s no sign of the resident.

“Eyes on one suspect,” Street alerts. “He’s running east; 26-David in pursuit.”

“One in custody,” Luca calls.

Deacon gestures back toward the door you entered and tells your team that you’re assisting Street. As you run back into the yard, you navigate around the house and toward the road quickly.

“LAPD!” Street yells ahead of you. “Stop!”

The suspect turns off of the sidewalk suddenly and sprints across the road. You speed up as Street turns to follow him. A car engine rumbles around the curve, and you know they won’t be able to see anyone in the path until it’s too late.

“Street!” you yell.

The engine grows louder, and your lungs seem to constrict as you watch the driver round the corner. They appear to be going the speed limit, but that doesn’t make what happens next any less painful. As the suspect reaches the sidewalk on the other side, you only watch Street. The approaching car slides to a stop, but it’s not fast enough.

“Street!” you yell again.

The bumper knocks his legs out from under him, and his helmet dents the hood before he rolls back onto the asphalt. As you reach him, you rip your helmet off to see him better.

“Go get him,” Street implores, holding his stomach.

“No, Street,” you argue.

“Get him. I’m fine.”

Street groans and you know he isn’t fine, but you need that suspect in custody today. You leave your helmet beside Street and run faster than you ever have before. Without thinking, you tackle the suspect to the concrete and cuff him as he moans in pain.

“Hondo, Street’s down. Suspect in custody,” you radio.

“R/A’s en route,” Hondo replies.

Luca runs toward you as Deacon and Hondo approach Street. The driver is standing by his door and rubbing his hand over his face nervously. Everything in you wants to run back to Street and help him, tell him that he’s special to you and you need him, but that’s not your job right now. Maybe Lynch was right about those blinders, you think. Then, as you remember what Deacon said, you realize that the burning in your chest has nothing to do with how hard you ran, and everything to do with the fact that you may lose Street anyway, and he will never know that you see him as so much more than your best friend.

“Let’s go,” Luca says as he pulls the suspect to his feet. “You alright?” he asks you.

You swallow quickly and nod. The ambulance arrives as you and Luca meet the responding patrol officers, and you miss your chance to go with Street.

“He’s going to St. Stephen’s,” Deacon tells you after everything silences. “He was still conscious, so that’s a good sign.”

“Deacon,” you begin. “I can’t- I can’t lose him.”

“He needs you,” Deacon adds. “Luca’s gonna drop you off on the way back to HQ.”

You nod. Everything numbs as you follow Deacon to Black Betty. There’s nothing you can think of or say that will make this go away, not without telling Street everything. As Luca drives to the hospital and your team talks – it’s nothing more than muffled background noise as you stare at the empty seat before you – your emotions shift. You almost lost Street because he didn’t listen, because he got caught up in the chase and didn’t think about how his decision would affect him or anyone else.

“Thanks, Luca,” you mumble as you exit the double doors.

The rest of your team pulls away as you walk into the hospital. With your uniform still on, you don’t even have to ask anyone for help before you’re led to Street’s side.

“Hey!” he calls when he sees you. “Oh, ow,” he mumbles as he lays back.

Your plan to tell him the truth disappears when you see the smile on his face. He still doesn’t realize just how stupid he was.

“Glad you’re okay,” you say. “Though I’m sure that’s just luck. You- Street, that was so reckless. If you want to throw away your safety, do it on your time!”

“I-“

“No; whatever excuse you’re coming up with, just save it. You’re self-sacrificial and today proved why. You don’t care about anyone else, and you don’t seem to realize or care that I- that people care about you! When you pull that hero act, you’re showing how blind and how stupid you are.”

You release a breath as you finish. Part of you whispers that you’re being a hypocrite; Street isn’t the only blind and stupid one in this hospital room. He’s not the only one sacrificing parts of himself because he thinks being selfish and secretive is the only way to stay happy and avoid rejection. So, you decide to listen to the part that is mad at Street for risking his life and not caring how it affected you. And the rest of your team, of course.

Street’s brows furrow as you rant. After you fall silent, he asks, “Are you done?”

“Yeah,” you answer.

“I’m fine,” Street argues. “You seem very upset, and I’m sorry about that, but it’s a minor injury, and I-“

You weren’t expecting Street to argue with you, to find a way to make you seem wrong for caring about him. And when he says minor injury as if he wasn’t hit by a car, you know you can’t stay. Without a word, you turn and exit his room as you ignore his calls for you.

“Hey,” Hicks calls.

You look up and see him walking through the hall, likely to see Street.

“Is he okay?”

“He’s… he’s still Street,” you say.

“And you?”

You shrug and answer, “I didn’t get hit by a car. I’m heading back to HQ.”

Hicks nods and taps your shoulder kindly as you leave. You need to blow off some steam and get Street off your mind for a while, and HQ is the perfect place to do that.

As you call Deacon to come get you, Hicks enters Street’s room and closes the door.

“How you managed to not break your leg is a mystery for the ages,” Hicks says.

“Well, apparently I’m just lucky,” Street murmurs. “And blind, and stupid.”

Hicks nods as he takes a seat. “What’d you do to make her so angry?”

“Nothing! She’s mad because I’m ‘self-sacrificial’ and it was a misguided ‘hero act.’ Her words.”

“You think she’s wrong? No self-sacrificial motivations?”

Street looks away from Hicks as he considers why he ran after that suspect without looking and why he ignored you when you yelled his name.

“We got into an argument before we got there,” Street admits.

“I didn’t realize you two were already together.”

“We’re not. She, uh, she’d never.”

“Right,” Hicks agrees sarcastically. “Because that woman who just came in here and yelled at you for getting hurt doesn’t feel anything for you. Surely you can see, despite your track record, that she cares that you got hurt. She’s mad because she could have lost you.”

“She can’t lose something she doesn’t want.”

“Street, open your eyes. No one yells at someone they’re indifferent to. But someone you’re scared to lose? They’re worth getting mad about.”

Street replays your words in his mind. You don’t care about anyone else, and you don’t seem to realize or care that I- that people care about you! You almost said it, Street realizes. You almost admitted the very thing Street has thought for longer than he remembers.

“When can I leave?” Street asks.

“Easy,” Hicks answers. “They’ve got to observe you for a while and make sure you don’t have any internal damage.”

“Is the driver okay?”

Hicks stands and buttons his jacket as he says, “You’re not that strong, kid.”

As Street gets advice from Hicks, you try to avoid Lynch. It doesn’t go well, however, because the moment your fist makes impact with the punching bag, she appears.

“We need to talk,” she says.

“Can it wait?” you ask between a jab and a cross.

“No. I know you’re worried about Street, where that anger is coming from. But the question I have is, do you know why you’re so upset?”

“Because he could’ve gotten himself killed and he doesn’t care!” you exclaim.

“He doesn’t care that he could have died, or he doesn’t care that he would’ve been taken away from you?” Lynch challenges.

You drop your hands and exhale. “What does that mean?”

“You tell me. Is the anger because you care about him and need him or because he went against protocol? For me, I would be mad about the paperwork I had to do, but you…”

“So, what you’re telling me is that I got angry with him because I don’t want to lose him. The one man in the world that I have absolutely no chance of ever having. That doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe not. Or it could be that the idea you can’t have him is just that – your idea. If you never give him the chance to answer, you’ll never know.”

“But I could lose him anyway,” you say softly.

“Or you could lose the chance to have him. Just… think about it, figure out why it bothers you so much, and then do something about it. Whether that’s telling him the truth or just being a supportive team member.”

You watch Lynch leave, then turn away from the bag.

“Ready?” Deacon asks.

“What?” you reply.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask for a ride back to Street.”

“You don’t have to rub it in, Mr. I-know-my-teammates-well-and-have-scary-good-intuition.”

“It’s a wonder I even have a license to drive you with a last name like that,” Deacon teases as he leads you to the parking area.

Outside Street’s room, you stop and take a deep breath. After you knock, you step through the open door and stop at the foot of his bed.

“I’m sorry,” you begin. “I thought-“

“I care about you,” Street interrupts. “I like you. I’ve liked you for so long that I don’t remember life without you.”

Your eyes widen with Street’s confession. Even if he’s exaggerating, hearing that you’ve had an effect like that on Jim Street gives you hope. He’s everything you want and more, but you never expected to hear anything like this from him.

“I like you, too,” you confess. “That’s why I got so mad. I didn���t want to lose you, but I shouldn’t have said all of that about you. I’m sorry.”

“I was self-sacrificial. I couldn’t see that you cared, so I didn’t think it would matter.”

“Of course it matters, Street. You matter,” you insist as you walk to his side.

You take Street’s hand, and he smiles at you. There’s still a pain in you, a sympathetic, emotional hurt for Street and what you both went through.

“I guess it’s a good thing I was stupid and blind enough to get run over by an innocent bystander,” Street jokes.

“You’re insufferable,” you respond.

Your smile betrays you, and Street knows you don’t mean that. You meant everything before. Though you think it’s too early for him to be joking about his accident and the injuries he’ll certainly feel tomorrow, you appreciate his sense of humor and the way he holds your hand. He can be insufferable, but now that you’re finally accepting the truth that Jim Street likes you too, it’s different and it always will be.

[schrodingerscougar]

Note: I don't feel like giving the poor pair a happy ending. I feel guilty for what I did to Soap in the previous part.

(part 2)

Simon had trouble sleeping lately. Every time he fell asleep, he dreamed of his best friend finding out he had kissed his girlfriend that night, and he interrogated him long enough to learn every little detail, from what her lips tasted like to how much they both enjoyed it.

In his dream the story went on as his imagination filled the gap between the kiss and the confrontation. It was full of gentle touches, delicate smiles, and secret meetings. There he knew how soft your skin was and what made you purr like a satisfied cat.

Whenever there was a chance he would remain alone with you somewhere in the hours spent awake, he immediately fled the scene and avoided talking to you. Hearing your voice and looking into your eyes would make him weak in the knees, and seeing that gorgeous smile of yours would be the nail in his coffin.

“What's wrong, Lt?” Johnny asked him one day, looking down at him from behind the bench.

The lieutenant finished the series he was doing, then put the barbell back to its place with the other man's help. He had to come up with something, a lie that could be good enough to avert the Scotsman's attention. “What makes you think I have a problem?”

Johnny let out a sigh after he sat on the floor and pulled up his knees. “I don't know, you're just strange lately. I noticed you've been avoiding my girl and since we work together, it makes things a little complicated.”

My girl. These words were heart-wrenching for Simon, he just wanted to stand up and leave to avoid this conversation. There was nothing he could have said to make the sergeant feel better without telling him about the kiss. The first one was his fault, he knew that, but you kissed him the second time.

“We just had a little argument, that's all. But I don't think that affects our job,” he said eventually.

“All right, I won't ask any more questions, I see you don't want to talk about it. But don't be too hard on her, okay? She was so sad throughout our trip during the leave. I don't want to see her like that again.”

Simon understood now. This relationship was serious from Johnny's point of view, while you–based on the way you've been apparently acting around him–had your doubts lately. It was his fault, he should have controlled himself better.

“All right, fine, I'll talk to her and we'll sort this out,” he promised.

“Thank you.”

So later in the afternoon he went to look for you, hoping you could have a normal conversation. He wasn't afraid that you would be pissed off, he was more terrified of himself not being able to keep his distance. Because he wanted to kiss you again, he wanted to tell you to break up with Johnny, beg you to choose him over his friend.

He found you in an empty briefing room, reading a book in the silence. He knocked on the door and waited for you to let him in. He could see the surprised look in your eyes, the hesitation when it came to letting him in.

“What can I help you with?” you asked as you closed your book.

Simon stepped inside and closed the door. “We need to talk about what happened back then. I want to apologize, I know I shouldn't have done that.”

Your expression softened and you stood up to walk over to him. “I kissed you too, so I should also apologize. But tell me this; do you want more from me? More than just one kiss?” you asked while you reached out to put a hand on his shoulder.

He wanted to be honest, but something told him he shouldn't be. “You're dating Johnny, it doesn't matter what I want.”

“I can... break up with him.”

“No. He loves you too much.”

You let go of him and began to pace the room like a sad ghost. Simon could sense that you wanted more too, but you understood that your boyfriend's feelings were strong enough to make you stay. Breaking up would have broken his heart, and neither of you wanted that.

In the end you came to a halt and said, “I should ask Price to let me work with them. I don't want problems with you.”

“And Johnny?”

“He'll be fine, we can still be together. But if you change your mind, if you want–”

Simon was quick to interrupt you, repeating his previous words. “It doesn't matter what I want. He's my friend, I won't steal his girlfriend.”

“And if his girlfriend likes you?”

“This can never be more than that one kiss. That one time thing,” he clarified.

Before you could say anything, he nodded and left the room, not stopping until he reached his room and laid down on the bed. Saying those things was killing him, making him feel like crying for the first time since he was young. Why couldn't he forget you? Why couldn't you say you had been drink that night and it didn't mean anything? Why didn't you say you understood that being together couldn't happen?

He couldn't help but wonder if he had just forced you to remain in a relationship you didn't want anymore. If you still loved Johnny after what happened. But at the end of the day, it didn't matter. It was none of his business after all.

[doumadono]

Hey! I have an emergency request? If it’s okay and you feel like it, can I request Katsuki, Midoriya, Denki and Eijiro just helping you through a tough time with your family? Like you’re getting into arguments with your parents and it’s been bringing down your mood and mental health for a while. I’ve been going through a hard time with my family lately and it really sucks because we were actually doing pretty okay before.

I hope you have a good day and are taking care of yourself!! *sends virtual hugs* ⭐⭐❤️❤️

A/N: I'm really sorry to hear that you're going through a tough time with your family. It's completely natural for families to have their ups and downs, and even when things seem okay, challenges can arise. Things will get better, and you have the resilience to navigate through this tough period ♥ EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

Kaminari

On a particularly gloomy day, as you were sitting in the hallway of the dorm feeling down after argument with your parents, you were suddenly greeted by an unexpected sight - Kaminari dressed head to toe as Pikachu. The sight of him in the costume made you burst into laughter, and your mood instantly lifted.

With his costume complete, Denki couldn't resist showing off a little. He activated his quirk, and a few sparks of electricity danced around his fingers, resembling Pikachu's abilities.

Grinning from ear to ear, Kaminari decided to make you forget about your sadness. He started humming the familiar Pokémon theme and took your hand, pulling you up from the floor.

At first, you were hesitant, but Kaminari's infectious enthusiasm was hard to resist. He began to dance with you right there in the corridor, twirling you around to the Pokémon melody.

As the two of you danced, you couldn't help but feel your spirits lifting. Kaminari's sense of humor and carefree attitude were contagious, and for a moment, you were able to forget about your family troubles.

"Whatever's bothering you, let's dance it away!" Denki suggested with a cheerful grin.

However, you soon noticed that you were attracting an audience. Members of class 1-A, including Mina, Mineta, Uraraka, Iida, Momo, and Shoto, had gathered to watch the unexpected spectacle in the hallway.

Mina and Mineta were giggling, Uraraka was cheering you both on, Iida was trying to maintain order and safety in the corridor, Momo had a bemused smile, and Shoto was just utterly confused, holding a bowl with soba in his hands.

Despite the embarrassment of being the center of attention, you couldn't deny that Denki's antics had succeeded in brightening your day. You continued to dance, laughing along with your classmates, grateful for the unexpected moment of joy in the midst of your family troubles.

Kirishima

As you sat alone in the common room, your thoughts clouded with family issues, Kirishima approached with a warm smile, holding a plate of homemade cookies.

"Hey there, Y/N," he greeted you warmly, taking a seat beside you on the couch. "I baked these myself. They might not win any beauty contests, but they're seriously delicious!"

Kirishima offered you one of the misshapen cookies, and you couldn't help but smile at their imperfections. When you took a bite, the taste was incredible, just as he had promised.

He asked what was wrong, and you told him about your recent argument with your family.

While savoring the cookie, Kirishima leaned in closer and initiated a heartfelt conversation. "You know, it's completely okay to have misunderstandings with your family. I've had my fair share too."

He shared some of his own experiences dealing with family conflicts, making you feel understood and less isolated in your struggles.

"Sometimes," he continued, "it's those misunderstandings that help us grow and learn how to communicate better."

Kirishima's words were like a comforting embrace, easing the weight of your worries. He encouraged you to keep moving forward and reminded you that you had friends who cared about you.

As your conversation continued, Kirishima noticed the longing look in your eyes when you glanced at his hair. Without hesitation, he leaned a bit closer. "You like my hair, right? It's really soft. Go ahead, you can pet it if you want. Maybe I'm not an adorable pet, but I can certainly offer some comfort right now."

You gently ran your fingers through his hair, savoring its incredible softness. It was a small but heartfelt gesture, a reminder that even amidst challenges, there were moments of warmth and friendship to cherish.

With Kirishima by your side, cookies in hand, and the soft touch of his hair, you felt a sense of comfort and camaraderie that helped you temporarily set aside your troubles and focus on the positivity of the moment.

Midoriya

It was a usual day at U.A. Academy, but as Izuku Midoriya glanced across the classroom, he couldn't help but notice the sadness in your expression during classes.

Throughout the lessons, he kept stealing concerned glances your way, growing more and more worried about your well-being.

After the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Izuku decided to approach you. He knew he couldn't ignore the sadness he had seen in your eyes.

Back at the dormitory, he found you on the balcony, quietly gazing at the horizon. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over everything.

Izuku stepped out onto the balcony and offered you a gentle smile. "Hey, I noticed you seemed a bit down during classes today. Is everything okay?"

You looked at him, your emotions close to the surface, and nodded. "I'm just… going through a tough time with my family."

Without a word, Izuku opened his arms, offering you a warm and reassuring hug. You accepted it gratefully, feeling the comfort of his presence.

"I understand how challenging family issues can be," he said softly. "But remember, it's okay to lean on your friends for support. We're here for you."

As you held onto that hug, you couldn't help but feel a sense of solace and understanding in Izuku's embrace. He reassured you that even in your darkest moments, there was a network of friends ready to stand by your side.

The two of you continued to watch the sunset together, the warmth of friendship and the beauty of the evening sky offering a glimmer of hope in your heart.

Bakugo

It was a particularly challenging day, and you found yourself standing in the corridor, lost in your thoughts, when suddenly Bakugo appeared out of nowhere. Without a word, he firmly grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his room.

You were taken aback by his sudden action, but Bakugo's stern expression left no room for questions. He shut the door behind you and turned to face you, his crimson eyes focused.

"What's wrong?" he demanded, his voice carrying a rare, genuine concern that you hadn't heard from him before.

Feeling the weight of your emotions, you began to explain the issues with your family that had been plaguing your mind. Bakugo listened intently, his usual brash demeanor replaced by a surprising attentiveness.

After hearing you out, he crossed his arms and let out a deep sigh. "Look, sitting around moping won't solve anything, dumbass. If you're feeling down, there's no better way to vent frustration than through a workout. Trust me on this, I'm a pro."

Bakugo's idea of helping you forget about your sadness was to channel it into something productive. Without waiting for your response, he started setting up some exercise equipment in his room.

"Come on," he urged, motioning for you to join him. "We're going to sweat out all that negativity. It's either that or wallowing in self-pity, and I won't stand for the latter, nerd."

Despite his brusque approach, you couldn't help but appreciate his determination to support you. You nodded, and together, you and Bakugo embarked on an intense workout session, pushing yourselves to your limits.

As you both exercised, the physical exertion began to clear your mind, and the endorphins started to kick in. Bakugo's unwavering determination and competitive spirit were contagious, and for a while, you found solace in the intensity of the workout.

By the time you finished, you felt physically exhausted but mentally refreshed. You realized that Bakugo's unorthodox method had indeed helped you forget about your sadness, even if just for a moment. It was a testament to his unique way of caring, and you couldn't help but be grateful for his support during your tough times.

[anangelwhodidntfall]

I'm sorry for sending another request so soon but I love the way you write dad!jake

Request: y/n is having trouble adjusting after leaving home and she starts being really hard on herself because she feels like she's taking too long to adjust and she becomes more and more frustrated until her siblings finally bring it to Jake's attention after thinking y/n's frustration would pass so Jake tries to talk to her

A/N: No need to apologize, keep sending them in <3

Pull Your Weight: Dad!Jake Sully

"Okay kids, I need you on your best behavior. I mean it. Learn fast. pull your weight. Don't cause trouble. You got it?" Your dad said after you guys were granted Uturu to get away from war.

That had been over two months ago and all your siblings including your little sister Tuk had all done that, excelling at everything that was taught to you to survive on the island. But you on the other were taking what seemed like forever to grasp the concepts you could swim okay, but you still hadn't properly bonded with an ilu, or grasped the finger talk that they do, and it bothered you a lot because you felt you were letting your father down. 

"Make the bond. Gently." Neteyam said as he was trying to help you bond with an Ilu since he and your siblings had already bonded with theirs. 

You nodded your head following his instructions making the bond with the ilu, feeling hopeful for once and then you allowed it to guide you through the water until it threw you off. You sighed as you swam up, already feeling frustrated. 

"It's okay sis, we can try as many times as it takes." He said reassuring you but it didn't work.

You tried at least twenty more times and got thrown off each time, you didn't understand why the ilu's wouldn't bond with you, ikran bonding was easier than this! 

"Sis..let's try one time.." Your twin tried to say.

"No, forget it Nete, this is just a waste of everyone's time. If I was meant to bond with one, then I would've bonded with one by now." You said angrily. 

"Sis that's not it! Maybe you just have to find the right one." He said hating to see you beating yourself up. 

"There isn't some right one for me! Tuk for crying out loud bonded with one. It's me. I'm a failure." You said leaving your twin there with a frown on his face.

Neteyam was the first to notice you being hard on yourself, then Lo'ak and Kiri had noticed it as well when you three came back from your finger talk lesson with Rotxo and Tsiereya and they both tried to convince you that you were learning at your own pace but you wouldn't listen to them either. They went straight to Neteyam and told him and the three of them decided that if they witness it one time they would go straight to your dad. 

You had been out on the beach playing with Tuk just trying to enjoy a moment of peace and not worrying about how slow you were adjusting when Ao'nung and some of his friends came up to you. 

"What do you want Ao'nung?" You asked as you watched Tuk make her sandcastle. 

"Just came to see if you were slow at making sandcastles as you are with learning how to live here." He said with a smirk as your smile fell. 

"Leave me alone Ao'nung." You said. 

"He's right. All your siblings including the little one have adjusted so well here, while you are still learning like you just arrived here yesterday." One of his friends said. 

"Just face it, you are the useless sibling." He said laughing as the tears threatened to spill from your eyes because they were right. 

"Sissy you know they are wrong right? Your not useless." Tuk said as the tears slid down your face. 

 

"What is wrong?" Your mother asked watching as you angrily worked on your weaving. 

"Nothing is wrong. Why would anything be wrong?" You asked slamming the basket down and catching your father's attention who had been outside on the dock craving something. 

"My sweet y/n, tell me what is wrong." She said brushing some of your hair out of your face making move away from her touch. 

"It doesn't matter. So drop it." You said pushing yourself to your feet and storming out of the Mauri as your parents looked at each other confused.

Your siblings had returned a few minutes after you left and stopped talking upon seeing your parents talking. 

"Hey, do you guys know what is going on with y/n? She seems so angry lately." Your mother asked concerned about you. 

"Uh we were actually about to talk to you about that...for the past few weeks we've noticed that y/n has been being very hard on herself about how long it's taking her to adjust to life here." Neteyam said. 

"Why? She's taking a normal amount of time to adjust." Your dad said confused. 

"Well, I know she's been struggling with bonding with an Ilu amongst other things, and said something about disappointing you." He said as your father's heart broke hearing that. 

"Where is she?" Your dad asked wanting to go and talk to you.

Your siblings told him where you like to go and hide away from the world and he went to find you and talk to you because you were the last thing from a failure and hated that you thought you were one. 

He found you, right where your siblings said you were, and quietly walked over to where you sitting by a tree before squatting to be on your level. 

"Hi, baby girl." He said. 

"Hi Daddy, I didn't mean to snap at Mom earlier." You said quietly. 

"I know you didn't baby, you wanna tell me what's been going on with you?" He asked gently. 

"I've been taking so long to adapt to the way of living." You said. 

"No, you haven't. We all learn at different rates." He said to you.

"No, you don't understand! I should be adjusting like neteyam and everyone has! When we were back home I learned everything so quickly and now it's taking me ten times as long to learn something even Tuk is excelling better than me." You said.

"I feel like such a failure." You said quietly as the tears fell down your face.

Your dad without a second thought scoops you into his arms. He knew exactly how you were feeling because he had struggled too when he first joined the clan and even upon arriving on the island, he struggled with bonding with the skimwig, and he hated that his kids especially his baby girl felt that way because you weren't a failure to him or your mother.

"Look at me, you are not a failure." He said looking into your eyes. 

"But when we got here, you told us to learn fast and pull our weight and I've hardly been doing that. I don't wanna disappoint you." You said as your dad wiped your tears. 

"I know I did but that didn't mean you had to learn the way of life here in two hours, it meant learning and adjusting at your own pace. Plus I've seen you pulling your weight here in other area, so you got a few areas that you are struggling with  but that's okay, we all have those I mean it took me three months to bond with a skimwing." He said. 

"Really?" You asked shocked. 

"Really. It's gonna be okay sweetheart. Your not a disappointment and could never be one." He said hugging you. 

"I love you Dad." You said feeling like a weight lifted off of your shoulders. 

"I love you too baby girl. How about tomorrow I try to teach you how to bond with an Ilu?" He offered. 

"I would like that a lot. But I think I should go home and apologize to everyone, I haven't been the nicest person lately." You said. 

"I know they'll understand." He said as he lead you to where his skimwing was so you two could head home.

"Mom and siblings specifically Neteyam I wanted to apologize for my behavior lately, I know I haven't been the nicest person to you guys and I'm sorry." You said with your head down as your father squeezed your hand in reassurance. 

"It's okay, ma y/n. Can you tell me what was wrong?" Your mom asked concerned. 

"She thought she was a failure because it's taken her longer than the others to adapt to the lifestyle here." Your dad said as your mother walked over and wrapped her arms around you. 

"My sweet girl, you are not a failure. We learn at different rates and you excel at so many other things. Isn't that right guys?" She asked your siblings who agreed and started naming off the things you were good at making your heart warm. 

[justmeinadaze]

Take It Out On Me Part 4 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: God I am about to start my period and I needed this y'all. Lol. It does lean more towards Steve than Steddie in this case and there was a reason story wise that I did that.

Enjoy!

Warnings: Dom Steddie and Plus Size sub reader. Like I said this is more of a Steve chapter but reader does mention Eddie a lot and the events of the previous chapter. Phone smut so dirty talk abound with degrading. Reader does get picked on again by Carol and starts a fight (both girls get hurt; not much), Reader hits Steve, she does use the save word but its not in a sexual setting. You'll see.

I think that's it.

Word Count: 3708

“What happened?!”

“Masie, Jesus Christ, nothing happened. Steve let me use his shower and then I crashed in the guest bedroom. It’s fine.”

Over the weekend and into the start of new school week, your friend continued to ask you the same question repeatedly. Every time you gave her the same answer but she never seemed to believe it. 

“Why would you even want to stay there?”

“Can we drop it? Please?”

“Fine. I’ll drop it for now but at some point, you have to come clean about your crush on Eddie Munson.” You roll your eyes as you close your locker and walk with her to lunch. “You know his dad is in jail, right?”

“Maze!”

“What! I’m just saying.”

As you both headed to your table, Eddie flashed you a small smile before focusing his attention back to his friends. When you passed Steve’s usual table, however, you were surprised to find that he wasn’t there. He had been in class that morning so he was here today and he was in class that afternoon. 

You wanted to ask him what was going on but you still didn’t know how to approach him or Eddie during school hours. You didn’t even know what the three of you were. 

Since you no longer had detention, you promptly returned home after school and tried to focus on your homework but it was hard. They both kept flashing through the back of your mind. You still didn’t know much about either of them and they definitely didn’t know anything about you. 

You did know Eddie Munson’s father was in prison but you weren’t sure what for. The town came up with their own ideas and used them against the metalhead whenever they could. Your parents always warned you to stay away from him because he was “bad news” but to you the rumors always seemed far-fetched. 

Steve Harrington you thought you did know but as you learned you didn’t. Every time you two talked, you found out something new and the new pieces left you more confused. 

For two people who seemed to like to take charge, they appeared to have little to no control over their surroundings.  

The sound of your phone ringing shook you out of your thoughts as you leaned over to your bed side table to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/N. It’s Steve. Steve Harrington.”

“Hey. Good thing you told me your last name. Wouldn’t want to confuse you with the other Steve I’m expecting to call.” The sound of his breathy laugh made you grin. 

“Fuck that other Steve. I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“No. You’re not bothering me. I’m just doing my homework for our history class.”

“None of that shit makes any sense to me.”

“I, um, I can help you…if you want. Maybe, after school or something.”

“You’d want to help me?”

“Yeah, of course. Eddie to if he wants it. I know he’s having some trouble with Ms. O’Donnell’s class.” There was silence on his end except for the sound of his steady breathing. A sigh escaped your lips at the action, reminding you of falling asleep beside his warm, comforting frame. “Steve. Why weren’t you at lunch today?”

“Were you looking for me, honey?”

“No. I mean, I pass you both on the way to my table and you weren’t at yours with your friends.”

“Yeah. I didn’t feel like…dealing with them today.”

“Hm. I understand the feeling.” He became silent again making you worry. “Steve…are you okay?”

“Of course, I am.” You heard what sounded like him adjusting his body as he shifted on his bed. “Why? Do I not sound fine?”

“You just sound a little…lethargic.”

“Why? Because I’m calling to talk to you?! Look, I just wanted to hear your voice, okay?”

“Steve! Steve! Breathe, baby.” You have no idea where that term of endearment came from or what gave you the confidence to use it. Maybe it was hearing his panic or you just needing to hear his own confidence return. He didn’t scold you for saying it nor reprimand you in anyway so you decided to test the waters and see where this took you when it came to Steve Harrington. 

“Breathe. I’m glad you called. I really am. I just hate hearing you sound so sad. I wish I could be there so I could hold you and make you feel better.”

His breathing had begun to slow and you felt the tension break. “Is that all you would do if you were here?”

“I’d do anything you wanted me to, sweetheart. I belong to you and Eddie.”

“Yeah, baby. You do. Where are you right now? In bed?” When you confirm, his groan fills the receiver. “Me to. What, uh, what are wearing?”

“Nothing attractive.”, you giggle. “I have a big, blue oversized shirt and my pajama shorts.” 

Steve chuckles at your admission; not in a mocking way but filled with adoration especially at your honesty. “Most girls lie about that kind of thing. It’s kind of ridiculous like guys don’t expect you to be lounging at home in your lingerie.”

“Well, I don’t have any lingerie so”, you laugh harder. 

“Shit, Y/N. We need to correct that as soon as possible! I’m not going to lie though; I think you still look sexy in what you have on.”

“How would you know!? You can’t even see me.”

“Because you look beautiful in everything you wear.” A pleasure filled gasp finds its way from your lips. You weren’t expecting that. “Yeah? You like hearing me compliment you, pretty girl?”

“I…I do.”

“Why don’t you get naked for me? Like when you were here.” While you do as your told, he continues to talk to you. “I really did like waking up with you naked next to me. I can’t stop thinking about how gorgeous your fucking body is. Every fucking curve just…drives me crazy. Fuck, I’m so fucking hard right now just thinking about it.”

“Steve…”, you moan at his words as you climbed back into bed with your legs spread. 

“Do you have toys or anything?”

“Please. My parents would kill me if they found anything like that.”

“How do you usually get yourself off?”

“Honestly? I…don’t.”

Now this particular laugh he gave was meant to tease. “Honey, you’re telling me that you, the girl that said she likes to be used and fucked senseless…DOESN’T play with herself almost every day?”

“I’m telling you…yes.”, you smirk. “It’s not that I don’t know how or don’t want to���it just never worked for me. And I haven’t tried since we started fucking because I’m too fucking sore.”

You both laugh, yours much breathier than his. 

“Is your pussy still sore?”

“A little. Eddie really wore it out.”

“I bet he did. Did you like it though? Him fucking you like the whore you are?

“Steve.”, you whimpered as your hips slowly began to grind onto air. 

“Answer me, Y/N.”

“Yes, I liked him fucking me like a whore.”

“Fuck. Put your fingers between your legs, baby, and tell me how fucking wet you are.”

Gliding you digits between your folds; you feel the slick practically leaking down your thighs. “You’re making me drip, Steve. My sheets are soaked already. Are…are you stroking your big, thick cock?”

“Y/N, I’ve been palming my dick since you said you belong to us.”

“Aw, do you need me to remind you sometimes?”

“No…I just like hearing you say it. To hear you…fuck…submit. Put your fingers inside of your cunt.” Steve’s tone became more forceful and you promptly did as he commanded, whimpering at the feeling. “God, you sound so fucking sexy. H-how many fingers are you using?”

“Mmm—two.”

“Use one more.”

“Steve…I-I-I can’t.”

“Don’t fucking talk back to me. Remember, you’re the whore here, Y/N. You can take—mmm—our cocks but you can’t take three of your tiny fingers?!”

Your mouth opened in a silent O as you squeeze one more digit into your tight hole, moaning at the sweet feeling of you stretching yourself open. 

“Good girl. Such a good fucking girl for me. How does it feel?”

“Full…so…full. Fuck…I’m gonna—”

“Me to. Cum for me, honey.” You turned your head, muffling your moans in your pillow as you came. On the other line, you heard Steve grunt followed by his own heavy breathing. 

“Are you…okay?”

“Yeah…yeah, I am. Fuck.”, you laughed as your head fell back. 

“Don’t put your clothes back on. I want you to fall asleep naked and dream of me, pretty girl. Okay? Fuck, I wish you had a toy so you could sleep with it inside you because I would give anything to be able to do that with you right now.”

“Steve…”

“Do you like that idea? Fuck, just thinking of me and Eddie being able to fall sleep with us both inside you is making me hard again. Waking up in the middle of the night to take you again…over and over…Jesus.”

“Steve…I-I have to go. Please, don’t get me worked up again.”, you giggle trying to hide your moans at his words. “Good night, baby.”

“Sweet dreams, beautiful.”

#################

During your free period the next day, you sat in the hallway leaning near your locker as you studied for an up coming test. The sound of squeaking sneakers followed by loud skidding made you look up just in time to see Eddie sliding on his jeaned knees toward your side.

“Hey princess.” You giggled as you grinned up at him. “What are you doing out here?”

“I’m just studying for a test.” When you flashed him your notecards, he immediately yanked them out of your grasp as he got more comfortable beside you. 

“Geez, look at you all prepared. Why are you out here and not in the library or something?”

“There’s no one out here.” You gesture along the hallway for emphasis. “Plus, it’s quieter than the library…for some reason.”

“I heard you offered to help Harrington and I with our classes.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. I don’t mind. I’m not great with everything but…” Eddie nods as you flash him a tiny smile. 

“I’d like that a lot. Unless it’s D & D, I struggle to retain that information. It’s almost like my brain shuts off or something.” He hands you back your cards and you place them in your lap. “How are you doing? Since the party I mean.”

“I’m ok. My dad didn’t smell any of the beer and thankfully Masie’s mom smokes so anything from your van he didn’t take as out of the ordinary.”

“Are you trying to tell me that my van smells like smoke?” He playfully squints his eyes at you as you laugh. 

“I’m saying that sometimes when I leave you two, I come in smelling like you two especially your cigarettes.” You glance towards the floor as you fidget with your hands. “It doesn’t bother me though…the smoke smell. It, um, makes me think of you now.”

You blushed as you felt his eyes on your face. “Sweetheart, you can’t get all shy on me now. Especially after a little bird told me you said you enjoyed me fucking you like the whore you are.” Your eyes locked with his as he grinned. “I wish I heard you say it for myself.”

After looking around, you reached for his chin as your thumb glided along him bottom lip. “I liked you fucking me, Eddie. I told Steve I was still sore from how you stretched me open.”

His breath stuttered a bit as his lips puckered out to kiss the pad of your finger. You both jumped a part at the sound of heels as a teacher breezed pass the hallway. 

“I wish I could fuck you right now.”, he whispered. “I have to go to this stupid fucking class or Principal Higgins threatened to suspend me again. My uncle will throw a fit.”

“Is that who you live with… your uncle?”

“Yup. In the trailer park a few miles down the way.”

“Where’s your mom?”

Eddie’s eyes meet yours with an amused smile. “I’m assuming since you asked that instead of where both my parents are that you’ve heard the rumors about my dad.”

“I know the town has their own stories… I’d rather hear it from you. Whenever you’re ready I mean.” 

He scans your over trying to get a read on you just as Steve had. You jump when the bell rings and students quickly begin filing out into the hall. Without another word, he rises to his feet, smiling down at you before disappearing in the herd of kids.

#############

As the day came to a close, you headed for the parking lot, lost in the prospect that one of the boys would call you tonight. You froze as you noticed a small crowd had gathered near a spot you were sure your car was currently sitting. As you pushed past people, the murmurs got louder until you finally made your way to the middle. 

You bag and books fell to the ground as your arms collapsed to your sides. On the side of your vehicle, spray painted in big letters were the words “Fat whore” in bright orange. The first thing that flashed through you mind was panic. How am I supposed to drive home with this? Everyone is going to see it. My parents are going to quiz me and demand to speak with the principal. They would cause a scene which is something I don’t need. 

Then, that fear was replaced with extreme anger. He told them. Steve told them about what him and I have been up to. How could he do this? I knew he wasn’t any different!

“Love the new paint job, Y/N?” Carol’s snarky tone cut through your internal breakdown. “I think it suits you.”

Something snapped inside of you as you gradually made your way over to before punching her square in the nose. Carol fell backwards, collecting her bearings before charging at you. As you both fell to the ground, the crowd started screaming and chanting. 

Suddenly, you felt an arm wrap around your waist and lift you off the girl underneath you. You fought trying to get back to her but it was no use.

“Y/N! Stop! Stop it!” Eddie held you tighter to him as he tried to calm you down. 

“Get the fuck off of me!”, you shouted.

“Stupid bitch! This isn’t over!”, Carol screamed as Tommy cupped her face in his hands. 

“Yes, it is!” Steve’s voice boomed over everyone else’s as he placed himself in front of you. “Stop this now. No more name calling or humiliating her. Just leave her the fuck alone.”

“What’s it to you?”, Tommy asked. “We’re your friends and if I recall Stevie boy you laughed along with us when we were doing that so called ‘humiliation’ in the past.”

“You’re not my friends anymore. Now get the fuck out of my face or else I will make yours look exactly like your girlfriend’s.”

They glared at each other before Tommy turned around and tugged Carol’s arm as they headed for their car. Steve swiveled his body to face you as you continued to fight against Eddie’s hold. As soon as they are far enough away and the crowd had dissipated, he releases you and you promptly fly towards the other boy, smacking him in the face. 

“How could you do this to me!? I thought you were different! How could you tell them everything?!” 

You fist flew again and he immediately caught your wrist, spinning you around till your back was against his chest. 

“Eddie. Van.”

You continue to struggle as he clings to you, pushing you forward to follow the metalhead. Once they reach his vehicle, Eddie climbs in and starts the engine while Steve throws you in the back, crawling in behind you. 

The van begins to move as you continue to fight and push, him allowing it before capturing you again and trapping you in his lap. What’s happening? Where are they taking me? How could he do this? How could he do this? How could he—"

“VANILLA!”

As soon as you shout the safe word, Eddie stomps on the breaks causing all the three of you to tilt forward. You climbed out of the bed of the van, tears clouding your vision as you began to walk away. 

“Y/N, wait.” Steve tries to grab your arm, ducking when you take another swing. “Please, I’m trying to respect your boundaries but you need to stop hitting me!”

“How could you do that!?”

“Do what?! What do you think I did!?”

“You told them! You told them I like being degraded and used!”

“Y/N, I haven’t talked to either of them since my party on Saturday.”

“Oh, fuck you! So, Carol just happens to call me a whore the day after we talk about it over the phone?!”

“I swear on my life I only told Eddie about that call. Honestly, it’s kind of pissing me off that you think I would ever stoop that low and hurt you like that! I may be an asshole but I’m not a complete fucking asshole.”

“That makes no sense.”, Eddie chuckles behind him. Steve rolls his eyes as he places his hands on his hips.

“How can I trust you, Steve? Tommy was right. You laughed along with them many times. What am I supposed to think?”

The man sighs as he begins to angrily pace. A thought shimmers in his eyes before he marches towards the van and sits on the back end. 

“What are you doing?”, you ask as he starts taking off his shoes.

“I don’t know how to show you that you can trust me especially after all the fucked up shit that I’ve done so I’m going for the next best thing.” 

Eddie’s jaw drops as Steve takes off his shirt and pants, exposing himself for anyone who should be driving by. 

“Tell me what I have to do. I’ll stand here all night or I can go back to the school and saunter down the hallways with my dick hanging out. Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it.” A smile creeps across your face causing him to breathe a sigh of relief. “Y/N, I swear I didn’t say a word. Carol says stupid shit like that all the time. It’s like the only words she knows are ‘Whore. Bitch. And Tommy is it in yet.”

You laugh hard at that as he gradually steps toward you. “May I hug you?” As soon as you nod, he arms descend around you, clinging to your body. When you hiss, he pulls back slightly, seeing the blood glistening on your shoulder. “Munson.”

“Oh shit. Yeah, I have some stuff at the trailer. Looks like she scratched you good, sweetheart. Do you feel safe enough to come over or do you want me to take you home?”

“I can come over.”

##############

Eddie’s room was completely different from Steve’s but exactly how you would picture it when it came to the metalhead. It was a total mess which didn’t seem to bother him at all as he tore through the area looking for something to take care of you. The band posters on the wall made you smile as they were some of the bands you and Masie always listened to when you slept over. 

You reached out and picked up a folder hanging slightly off his nightstand. “Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Screen”. As you flip through it, your eyes take in all the monster and story information he’s collected, smiling at the sloppy notes he’s written along to side. 

“Steve, is there a particular reason you haven’t put your clothes back on?”, Eddie asks as he throws himself down on the bed next to you. “Take this off, babe.”, he whispers softly as he tugs at the hem of your shirt.

“It was to prove a point but now I’m just comfortable.”, he chuckles.

“Shit. I have to call my dad. May I?”, you ask as you reach for his phone. 

He nods as he places the damp rag in his hand on your shoulder and you hiss at the sting. Eddie’s other hand runs through your hair down the back of your head and you smile at the gesture as you dial your home phone. 

“Jesus, Y/N, where are you? You were supposed to be home 30min ago.”

“I know, mom. I’m sorry. My car kind of gave out on me so Masie’s dad towed it to the shop. I’m still here.”

“Hm. Well, I’m glad you’re ok. Will you be spending the night again? I need to know so I can tell your dad.”

Your eyes shift between the men in front of you as you try to decide. “Um, yeah. I will be spending the night. That way I can pick up my car in the morning before school.”

“That’s a good idea. Ok, sweetie. Have fun with Masie and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Look at you, you bad girl.”, Eddie grins as you hang up the phone. “What gives you the idea that you CAN spend the night here, hm?”

“SOMEONE informed me that you both like sleeping beside me naked so… I figured I’d utilize the opportunity.” You beamed up at him as he removed the rag and tossed it to the side. 

“Um, fuck, I don’t have any bandages or anything. Not ones big enough for this.”

“It’s ok. It doesn’t really hurt as much anymore…”

“I can grab some from the corner store when I go get her car later.”

“Oh, Steve, you don’t have to do that—”

“Do you not want me to?”, he cut you off. 

“Um, I mean, I don’t mind. I’m just saying—”

“Ok. Case closed.”

Eddie rolls his eyes as the other man leans back flat on his bed, reaching on to his floor, and throwing a pair of sweats at him. “At least but on some pants for right now for God’s sake. I think you proved your point.”

###########

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