#less scolding pony for whatever

[the-kneesbees]

I think the reason I love darry so much in the musical is cause he sounds less like pony's dad and more like his older brother who's raising him..yk.

[chvnnie]

soft dom cocky Chan? All she wants is to suck him off but he wants more?

this is my favorite genre of chan

SMUT — MINORS DNI

You really didn’t mind when Chan put his hands on your hips, fingers hooking through your belt loop and pulling you closer to him. Standing in between his spread legs, one hand on his chin to keep it still. It was when he started to get a little more handsy, sneaking on behind you to grope your ass that it became a problem. Making you flick his forehead.

“Ouch—“

“Cut it out.”

“Sorry.” He mumbles, but the smile twitching on his plush lips tells you he’s anything but. It’s impossible to be mad at him when he’s looking up at you, brown eyes laced with fondness staring up at you. “Your ass just looks great in these jeans.”

You scoff, moving out of his hold to grab a new brush and eyeshadow platte. “Close your eyes and stop bothering me while I’m trying to work.”

Though the former is no problem, it’s nearly impossible to keep his hands off you. It’s pointless to scold him, to knock his hands away. Chan is going to do whatever he wants to do, and you’re really in no position to complain. Especially when his warm hands start to gently knead your flesh over your jeans. His touch always makes you feel like staticky, almost distracting you from why you were so annoyed with him.

He tried to convince you that everyone is behind schedule, that it isn’t his fault. It’s a bullshit lie; the other members were in and out, barely sitting in your chair for more then twenty minutes. It was Chan that was behind, too caught up on his new project that he lost track of time. He barely got his stage pants on before he was dragged into hair, then pushed in the tiny dressing room you’ve set up shop in.

Then he wanted to kiss you. Tell you how he kept trying to sneak away to visit you, but he just got so busy, baby. Pushes his lips into a pout. Don’t be too upset with him, okay?

Literally, you couldn’t care less about that. You’re frustrated that he’s late, giving you only eleven minutes to get him stage ready. And he keeps trying to waste it by touching you, kissing you. Distracting you from your job.

Six minutes have passed, and your applying color to his lip when there’s a knock on the door. Five minute warning.

“Let me just touch up your eyeliner—“

“It looks fine.”

“No, Chan—“

“We only have five more minutes, baby.” He says in a soft voice, pulling you closer until your knees hit the chair. Forcing you to sit in his lap. “Let’s do something else.”

You sigh, putting your hands on his chest to try and push away. It’s a bad idea; skin so soft against your palm, muscles so broad and firm. Mouth watering, you swallow before shaking your head. “You don’t have time.”

“I can make it.” Chan’s hands slip in your back pockets as his lips brush against yours. Slowly, almost teasing before he lets them connect. “I didn’t get enough of your cunt this morning. Don’t let me go on stage frustrated.”

When you sigh, he knows he’s won you over.

“Fine.” You start to move out of his lap, dropping to your knees between his leg. “But only head.”

Is it because your on a time crunch? Or do you just miss the smile he gives you? The condescending way he says “Sure, baby”? Or are you just too focused on the tent in his tight pants, cock already rock hard from just some heavy petting?

He lips his hips to help you pull his pants down, cock springing out and hitting his defined abdomen heavily. Palm wrapping around the base, you let your hand work freely up and down. A little pressure, a little slow. Exactly how Chan likes it.

“That’s it, baby.” He groans, pulling your hair back in a makeshift pony. “Now spit on it.”

You look up at him with wides eyes, locking in the contact as your spit on the tip of his cock. It makes you start to lose all sense of reality when his lips part, deep moans so prettily filling the small dressing room.

“Good fucking girl.”

You’ve always felt so powerful when you’re kneeled before him. Spit clinging to your bottom lip, you smile up at him. This man, who goes on stage every night, commanding the attention of millions and swooning every being in the stadium—

“Thank you, daddy.”

Crumbles so easily when it comes to you.

Before he can try to control your movements, you’re wrapping your lips around his cock. The weight against your tongue is mind numbing, little thought going into how you take him all in one breath. Nose brushing against his pubic bone, little gags vibrating against him.

“God fucking damn.” His head rolls back against the chair, loudly moaning your name. You want to scold him, warn him how problematic it would be if someone found out about the two of you.

But there’s no time, and you can’t really find it in yourself to care.

Legs pressing together, you start to find the perfect rhythm. Slightly sloppy, very deep down your throat. Just like Chan taught you, tongue flicking over the tip and teeth brushing the shaft. The perfect way to make him fill your mouth, to cum intensely.

With the taste of him is heavy on your tongue, and the gentle way he’s pulling your hair, you’re starting to get more pent up. The static taking over your body, setting it ablaze. Forcing a hand in between your legs, desperately unbuttoning your jeans to force it inside your dampened panties.

Fingers rub tight, quick circles on your clit. Chan’s thighs starting to shake, his moans more broken and whiny. Close. It won’t take long.

“That’s it. Fuck.” He curses. “Such a good little cock slut for—“

The words catch in his throat when he looks down. Sees your eyes shut in bliss, the hand stuffed in your pants. And then he’s pulling you up by the hair, knocking the products off the counter to throw you in it.

You gasp, but he clasps a hand over your mouth before much more noise can be made.

“Do not fucking tell me,” he’s tugging your pants down, not stopping until they’re with the makeup on the floor, “that I don’t have time. Do you really think I fucking care?”

His cock is inside you, spit and slick making it easy to slide all the way in. Hands wrapping around his wrist and nails digging into his skin, you moan into the palm. Head hitting the mirror with a thud.

It wouldn’t be hard to guess what’s happening in this same room. Skin on skin, muffled moans and curses. Hidden relationship be damned; Chan’s sick and tired of not getting to fuck you whenever he fucking wants.

A loud knock. “It’s time, Chan—“

“Two more minutes.” His hips don’t stop, fucking you hard enough to make the flimsy counter creak.

“We don’t—“

“I said.” His head snaps around, voice raised and frustrated. “Two. More. Minutes.”

Each words is emphasized with a hard thrust. Your body is tensing up, stars starting to cloud your field of vision. Chan moves his hand, gripping your cheeks instead. Grabbing your attention.

“You don’t get to tell me no anymore.” He growls, the feral look in his eyes almost frightening. “Got it?”

Quickly nodding, you reach for him. Needing him closer. “Yes, d-daddy—“

“Good. Now fucking kiss me.”

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, slamming your lips against his soft ones. The lip color is rubbing off, melting with each flick of your tongues. He’s starting to get lazy; not moving as roughly, as quickly. As if those two minutes were an eternity.

What were you in such a rush for anyway?

[comfort-questing]

after this, or a little bit in the midst of it, from a different angle...

-

"Merrim?"

it felt like nighttime, now; perhaps it was the chill of the close stale air of the room that told her, or perhaps just the dizzying intensity of her fever. she heard footsteps by the door, strange ones, and forced her eyes open, the faint lamplight setting the ache in her head throbbing again.

"it's all right," Kev was saying, softly, his hand resting on hers, "she's a friend."

a friend, or at least not an enemy. a girl in a faded dress and apron, carrying a basin, looking cautiously from Kev to Alan to her and back. this was not, likely, a trick of Rhyes or any of his folk - they didn't have the look of meek confusion down very well.

Kev must have talked to someone here at the inn. Kev must have -

"we can't stay," she managed to get through her dry throat, and swallowed futilely, her mouth sticky. "we can't - "

"you're not going anywhere," said Alan, from his guard post by the door, "we'll figure it out."

that was what Alan always said, and see where that had got them all. the light burned her eyes, just as the rough cloth of the blankets seemed to burn at her skin. everything seemed to be made of pain these days, all sensation jumbled up alarmingly, the only clarity the sharp agony of the wound in her shoulder, a lodestar both waking and sleeping.

"then leave me and go, idiots."

(she'd said that from the start. from when Kev had dragged her out the back door of the manor into the alleyway, his hands bloody crimson and his face gone all paper-white.)

"because if he - " the effort of breathing must have been a little too much, that time, her throat closing with the sudden spike of pain tearing through her, cutting off her words.

she couldn't take any more blades for them. couldn't save them any longer. nothing left but vengeance and the inevitable -

"shh," said Kev, "shh, let's wait till morning." and then, "let's get the bandages changed, all right?"

-

somehow every time they changed the bandages it hurt more, not less. it seemed that Kev knew that, because he was saying sorry over and over again, voice barely to be heard over the roaring in her ears, and it should have been me - which Merrim tried to scold him for, with the bare remnants of breath she could spare, until her throat ached too much from holding the cries back and she gave in to the pain at last. the girl - Talya - she was holding her hand, somehow, and having something else to focus her consciousness on helped a little, trying to send her mind into her senses, the brush of chapped fingertips and work-dull nails.

and it was probably a bad sign, this, how much it hurt, shaking loose the whimpers she'd managed to keep still for so long. but she had known since the beginning, since Rhyes's dagger had flashed in the lamplight that night and she'd shoved Kev aside with all her strength; she had known this wouldn't end well, or easily.

the salve stung, and then numbed, mercifully. she measured out her breaths between her teeth as Kev wrapped the fresh bandages, and opened her eyes again, to see the little servant's quietly worried face and Kev's grief-wracked one above her.

they gave her water, afterwards, and that helped a bit with the headache and the dusty taste of her mouth. water with something else in it, from the sharply herbal aftertaste, but she drank it thirstily anyway as Kev tilted the cup to her lips.

"if we - do leave," said Alan, by the door. "if we can't stay - "

"don't talk about it," Kev spat back, in a low voice over his shoulder. "we'll leave in the morning. maybe - maybe we can buy a pony, or something, so she won't have to walk any more."

something of a comfort to hear them planning, at least. even if she wasn't sure she could stay upright on a horse, and the thought of sitting through the jolting stride of one was an even worse idea. she took another breath, carefully, and let it out; whatever she'd drunk was making her head hazier than normal, which also felt like a weary mercy by now.

she blinked; the light was unsteady on the ceiling above. she thought maybe she could sleep, now, properly, to the sound of their soft voices murmuring not far from her, the two she knew and the young stranger's. maybe if she slept, she'd feel better in the morning, and the shivers of fever would let go of her by daylight. and then nobody would have to stay in danger any longer for her, and... and she would have saved them, like she had been trying to all this time...

all a dream, she knew, even now. but it was worth dreaming a little, now and again.

[reigningqueenofwords]

Dresses

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Dean x Allie (OC) Word count: 2,748 Warnings: Cheating, unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy Request: @jessicalynnann Love your writing. You are one of my favorites!

Okay so Dean is married and owns a successful mechanic shop… well he hires a new secretary who is plus size and he finds her attractive… and well things happen.. I have it invisioned with him picking her up and wiping off a work bench. Loosely based on the song unholy by Sam smith. :) if not that is totally fine

Read on AO3

Part 1 of Unholy

Having to hire a new secretary wasn’t his idea of ‘fun’, but it was something that had to be done. That led him to being in his shop after hours for interviews. Thankfully, he was on his last one of the night. It was 7pm, and he just wanted to get home to his family. He knew he would be missing his youngest’s bedtime. “Hi, Mr. Winchester? I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I’m here for an interview.” You greeted him as you walked into the shop. 

Dean looked up and had to focus on not licking his lips at the sight of you. You were in a dark pencil skirt, a dark blue blouse, and black heels. Over your shoulder was the strap of your purse. Your hair was left loose over your shoulders. “Call me Dean.” He smiled, holding out his hand. 

“Nice to meet you, Dean.” You smiled as you shook it. 

Once you were sitting down, he got comfortable. “Do you have any experience as a secretary?” He asked. 

Nodding, you reached into your purse and pulled out a resume. “I was a secretary for a law firm for 4 years.” You explained. 

“May I ask why you left?” His eyes looked over the paper in his hand. It wasn’t long, but he could see that was because you kept jobs for years. 

“My mother. She got sick.” You started, making him look up at you. “So, I packed up and moved back here. You posted your ad the next day and I couldn’t pass up the chance to apply.” You tucked some hair behind your ear. 

He chewed on his lip a moment. He was happily married, but he could hire someone attractive to be his secretary anyway, right? He could look, but not touch. “Well, you are the most qualified applicant.” 

You smiled at that, hopeful. “Really?” 

He chuckled, nodding. “Well, you and a 60 year old named Dot.” He said playfully. “Although, I think you’d be less likely to scold me.” He joked, making you laugh. “But, here’s the tie breaker.” He rested his elbows on his knees, clearly still joking. “Can you bake a mean chocolate chip cookie?” 

“Does the refrigerated dough count? Because right now, that’s about it.” You shrugged. “I can do breads, but sweet bakes? Totally bea- get the better of me.” You blushed lightly as you nearly said ‘beat my ass’. That would not have been a good look! 

“Can you come in tomorrow? My old secretary still has a few days. So she can train you and get you used to everything around here. And we can get you introduced to the other guys.” He felt this was promising. 

You beamed. “I can!” You agreed, thankful you didn’t remain jobless for too long. 

After the pair of you talked over details, he gave you the official job offer on paper. The pay was extremely fair, and you signed instantly. Once you’d filled everything out, he walked you to the front door. “You don’t have to dress so formal, by the way. Whatever you’re comfortable in. Especially in the summer. I do my best to keep the AC in top notch condition, but when that door is opening up a lot sometimes it gets warm in the lobby.” He explained. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Thankfully it was spring, so you had time before it got too warm. “I will see you tomorrow morning.” 

The next morning, you got there at 7, as he’d asked you to come early. Mostly to work with Charlie. This way Charlie could focus on teaching you everything before customers started showing up at 8. You walked in wearing a pair of jeans, a button up short sleeved shirts, and your hair in a high pony tail. “I hope you like coffee.” You smiled at Charlie, holding out a coffee for her. 

“Oh, I love you.” She chuckled, taking it. “I’m Charlie, it’s nice to meet you.” 

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you, too.” You smiled. “Where should I put my purse?” You asked. 

“Follow me.” She motioned for you to walk with her. Sipping her coffee, she let out a content sigh. “So good. When Dean called me last night to tell me to come in early I was hoping he’d be replacing me with someone chill.” 

“Well, I like to think I am.” You chuckled, being led through a door that said ‘staff only’. “Can I ask why you’re leaving?” 

She shut the door behind you. “There was a job opening with the people that run my favorite LARPing event. I applied for the hell of it and actually got it.” She explained. “I couldn’t turn it down. Thankfully I’ve been friends with Dean since we were kids and he understood. He was a bit grumpy that I’m leaving, but I think that was also due to the fact that Layla, his one year old, was teething.” 

“How many kids does he have?” You wondered out loud. 

“Three.” She chuckled. “Layla is one, Xander is five, and David is 8.” She went on. “But, you can leave your stuff in here. No one will touch it.” She promised. “On Fridays Dean tends to order lunch, so you won’t have to bring anything.” 

“Oh, that’s nice of him.” Not many bosses ordered lunches except for a ‘bonus’. 

Charlie nodded. “Well, I think it’s partially because he’s a good guy, partially because he’s close with everyone he works with. We’ve known Benny since we were kids, Garth we met in high school, he met Cas when I was off in college. I think they met at a bar.” She shrugged. “Sometimes his dad comes in to work. Usually because he’s retired and I think he gets bored. He’s a big softie.” At least to her he was. 

“Sounds like everyone is basically family here.” It was a comforting thought in one aspect, and a terrifying one in another. What if you just didn’t fit in? 

“We are, you will be, too.” 

Charlie trained you for three days, and day three was more you doing everything and her being backup. However, your forth day there? She wasn’t there. There had been a going away dinner after the shop closed on the third day. It was clear that she would be missed. No pressure on your part or anything. 

Walking in the morning of your 4th day, you had coffee and bagels for everyone. “Morning!” You greeted them when you reached the break room. “I brought breakfast. I know you’re going to be missing Charlie, so…” You said shyly. 

Dean smiled at that. “Well, thank you, sweetheart.” He said happily, watching you set the bag of bagels down. 

“Those do smell great.” Cas admitted, eagerly reaching into the bag. “Oh, with cream cheese. Even better.” 

Soon, everyone had their bagel and cream cheese. “Nervous for your first day alone, cher?” Benny asked. 

“A little.” You admitted. “Charlie was an excellent teacher, and even with my past experience it’s hard not to be.” You sipped your coffee. 

“You’ll do great.” Dean assured you before heading out of the room. 

It didn’t take you long to get used to everything, including their personalities. What had taken you aback was Dean’s flirting. Not that you actually had a problem with it. Two weeks after your first day alone, the forecast said it would be mid-80s. That had you coming into work with a cute sundress. You braided your hair over your shoulder to keep it off your neck, as well. “Business is already great sweetheart, you don’t have to get all dolled up to get guys in here.” Dean winked at you as he passed you. 

Blushing, you smiled and shook your head. You honestly assumed that he was just a flirty guy. The only other woman you’d seen him with was Charlie, and you assumed that he didn’t flirt with her because she was like a sister to him. 

That evening, Dean leaned against the counter as you finished up. The guys had already left, closing up the actual shop. You just liked to get things set for the next morning. “Hungry, sweetheart?” He asked. 

“A bit. I planned to stop and get something on the way home.” You shrugged. 

“I’ll order us something. You like subs?” He stood up, pulling out his phone. 

“Can I at least get us drinks? I can run to the store down the road.” You offered. You didn’t want to not get something if he was treating you to dinner. 

“Sure thing.” 

After you’d told him your order, and he told you what beer he liked, you grabbed your purse to run to the store. 

Your subs sat, half eaten on the table as you both laughed at a story he was telling you about when him and Sam were kids. He was on his third beer, and you were on your second can of Mike’s Hard Lemonade. Licking his lips, he watched you. “Wanna see the car I’m working on restoring? It’s in the back of the shop that’s usually blocked off.” 

Nodding, you downed the last of your drink. “I’d love to. I know nothing about cars, though.” You chuckled. 

Dean finished his beer and led you to where his car was. “This is Baby.” He patted her hood. 

“She’s beautiful.” You mused. 

“She is.” His eyes were on you as he spoke. 

Moving to lean against one of the workbenches, you watched him. “How long have you been working on her?” You asked, curious. 

“For years. Some days I’ll stay here for a few hours after we close to work on her, but some weeks I just don’t get the chance.” He wasn’t about to say that some nights his wife just wanted him home. That would kill the mood that was surrounding you both. 

“Am I keeping you from her?” You asked softly. 

He made his way to you, putting a hand on each side of you. “Not at all.” His voice was low, enjoying the proximity of the two of you. “You look really nice today, sweetheart. You should wear dresses more often.” He suggested, slowly closing the small bit of distance between your bodies. 

Blushing, you put your hands on his hips. “I think I can do that.” You found yourself agreeing. 

Next thing you knew, his lips were on yours. You kissed him back, moving one of your hands to right below his jaw. He kissed over your jaw, rocking his hips against you. As he did that, he used one of his arms to push everything from the workbench. Hearing you breath his name went straight to his cock. “Shit, sweetheart.” He groaned, lifting you so you were sitting on the bench. His hands found their way under your dress, just wanting to feel your skin. “Lift up for a second.” He breathed against your neck, gripping the sides of your underwear. 

You did as you asked, your heart hammering in your chest as he pulled them down. One of his hands tangled in your hair as he kissed you deeply, the other found it’s way between your legs. As much as he wanted to take his time and tease you, he just couldn’t right then. Another time he’d spend hours exploring your body. 

Dean felt your fingers work on his belt, as he’d removed his mechanics overalls before the subs arrived. As soon as his jeans were undone, you pushed down his jeans unjust enough to free him. He pulled you a bit to the edge, kissing you as he lined himself up and slid in to you. “Fuck, Dean!” You let your head fall back, moving one of your feet so it was on the edge of the table. 

“God, you feel amazing.” He groaned. Pushing your dress up a bit, he watched himself disappear inside you. 

Your hand gripped his bicep, the other moved to rub your clit while he thrust into you. “Right there!” You gasped as he shifted his angle slightly. 

“Cum for me, baby.” He could tell you were close. 

His thrusts started to falter, sending you over the edge. Knowing he was close did it for you. “Dean!” You snapped your eyes shut, moaning as you felt him fill you moments later. “Wow.” You smiled at him. 

He leaned forward and kissed you softly. There was something about you that drove him crazy in the best way. “Let me get a washcloth to clean you up, sweetheart.”

Biting your lip, you nodded. 

During the day, you kept things professional. You never hinted that some nights, Dean would have his way with you in that back room. He’d treat you to dinner, sometimes he’d bring his laptop for the pair of you to watch a movie, and then he’d give you mind blowing sex. It didn’t occur to you to ask why he didn’t take you on an actual date after nearly a month of this, either. 

It had been two months since you’d started sleeping with Dean when Benny surprised you one day around lunch. He’d just finished up with a car, and the lobby was empty. “So, cher, I was wonderin’ if maybe I could treat you to dinner after work.” He smiled. “I can go home, clean up, and then pick you up?” He really hoped you agreed. 

You blushed, not knowing Dean was nearby, either. “You’re sweet, but I have plans tonight.” You told him. “Rain check?” You asked sweetly. 

Benny grinned. “Sure thing, suga’. Just let me know when.” 

Truth was, you really needed to talk to Dean that night. You really needed to know what the two of you were doing. Looking up, you smiled seeing a woman walk in. “Hi, can I help you?” 

“You must be Y/N.” The woman smiled. “I’m Allie. Dean’s wife.” She introduced herself. “I’m here to get him for lunch.” She had her hand on a small bump. 

Thankfully, you were able to keep yourself composed. “I’ll get him.” You told her, getting up. Moving to the back, you found him- pretending he didn’t hear Benny ask you out. “Allie is here.” You told him. 

Dean’s head shot up at that. He saw the look on your face and knew he was fucked. “Sweetheart…” 

“No. Go. I’ll talk to you after work.” Turning on your heel, you went back to the counter. “He’ll be right out.” You told her, schooling your features. “How far along are you?” 

Her face lit up. “Six months! I’m so excited.” 

“Hi, baby.” Dean came out, drying off his hands from washing them. “Ready to go?” 

She nodded. “It was nice to meet you, Y/N. We’ll have to have you for dinner sometime.” She gave you a wave as he put his hand on her lower back, walking her out. 

That night after they closed down, Dean had knots in his stomach. He found you in the breakroom. “Swee-” 

“Don’t you dare call me that.” You snapped at him. Looking up at him, he saw the unshed tears. “I planned to talk to you tonight either way, but finding out you’re married changes things completely.” You felt like an idiot. None of the guys had ever mentioned her! They talked about the kids all the time, though. Did they know that Dean and you were sleeping together? And they were hiding things for him? 

“I’m sorry.” He said softly. 

“You’re fucking sorry?” You glared at him. “I’m an idiot! I was some side piece you got to fuck while you’re pregnant wife was at home with your other kids.” You stood up. “Did you just casually forget you’re married?” 

Dean swallowed. “I’m drawn to you. There’s just something about you that makes me want to be with you.” 

Rolling your eyes, you got up. “You can’t have it both ways. You can’t have the happy little family life, and then someone to fuck on the side. And by the way? I quit.” You spat. 

“Come on, please don’t. The guys love you.” He really didn’t want to lose you. “We’ll stop sleeping together, but I can’t stop seeing you every day. You brighten all our days.” 

“Well, unless you’re a deadbeat you will be seeing me.” You watched the gears turn in his head as he figured out what you were saying. Seeing it click, you watched him all but fall into the closest chair.

[class-1b-bull]

How would they each react to being mistaken for someone super famous who happens to look exactly like them, probably followed by getting dragged onto a movie set or something?

Not proofread we die like men

Awase - at first he thought it was one of those prank shows or something but once he was dragged onto a literal movie set he realized they actually thought he was some actor or something. He tried to explain but kept getting interrupted until he was kicked out because the real actor showed up. He tried to tell his friends about it but they dont believe him. Lmao

Sen - with how pretty he is I wouldn't be surprised if he gets mistaken for models or idols all the time. At this point he just goes with it. Theres a countless number of strangers that have signed selfies with him simply because he looks famous lmao. But the second someone tries to drag him somewhere he shuts that down.

Kamakiri - with his mutations hes surprised anyone looks like him at all, much less a famous person. Still the second he starts getting dragged off by some crew he yanks forces himself out of their grasp and as far away as possible.

Kuroiro - like Kamakiri, hes surprised anyone looks like him at all. However Kuroiro is a but too shy to interrupt the people dragging him towards a photo shoot for something to correct them and tell them they got the wrong person. He almost did the photo shoot if it wasent for the fact that the famous look-a-like finally showed up.

Kendo - because of her internship with that one pro hero she was put in a couple commercials so she has been recognized once or twice. But she knew by the way this very pissed secretary was dragging her towards a warehouse that they didnt recognize her from the shampoo commercials. She eventually managed to stop the girl to apologize before telling her she had the wrong person.

Kodai - she instantly clarified that the woman talking to her had the wrong person. The lady was a bit stubborn so kodai ended up having to show her school ID before the secretary finally decided to leave her alone. She is pleasantly surprised to hear she looks like a famous person though.

Komori - she instantly starts blushing and cant contain her excitement when she realizes the camera crew talking to her about some music video thinks shes some idol she looks like. Her confused yet flushed face is what gives away that she isnt actually the idol theyre looking for.

Shiozaki - she dosent even let the small group get that many words out before she clarified and kindly let them know that they had the wrong person. She was quite flattered about the whole ordeal though.

Shishida - hes so confused by the group of people dragging him onto a movie set before he realized they thought he was someone else entirely. Once he realized he let them know that they had the wrong person

Shoda - he started trying to tell the crew they had the wrong person once he started getting dragged away. But hes soft spoken and kept getting interrupted by the noisy chaos that is a movie set so he ended up standing in a corner until his famous look-alike finally showed up

Pony - she was flustered when she realizes the woman scolding her for being late thought she was a model that was missing their shoot. She was silently contemplating if she should just go along with it or not but the actual model showed up before too long.

Tsubaraba - he instantly just starts going with whatever the camera crew says because he thinks its funny. He gets the cameras to start rolling before his actor look-alike pops in. Kosei was kicked out pretty quickly afterwards.

Tetsutetsu - the second he starts talking the crew realizes that hes not the famous guy they were looking for. They sound kinda similar but the crew never heard the actor call things manly before so that was a dead giveaway.

Tokage - she goes along with it because who dosent want the chance to be on tv. She quickly finds out that theyre shooting for one of her favorite shows and she probably accidentally gives herself a massive spoiler. She was honored to pretend to be an actress but the price was not worth it.

Manga - he let himself get dragged onto the movie set because he was curious only to get distracted by everything around him. He wanted to know what movie this was for and who his celebrity look alike was but eventually he got kicked out because the crew realized he wasn't who they thought lmao

Honenuki - he has a bit of a natural charm when he talks so it definitely doesn't help his case when hes trying to explain that he isnt a celebrity. He ends up getting dragged away anyways because the crew dosent believe him.

Bondo - he lets himself get dragged away simply because he cant bring himself to break it to the crew that hes not the one theyre looking for. He ends up akwardly standing to the side of some movie set for a few hours before the crew realizes hes not the right guy and they let him leave.

Monoma - once he found out that the people dragging him into a building thought he was some model he instantly started playing along. Long story short hes on the cover of a magazine now. And soon enough he was on the cover of the newspaper with a whole article about how a teenager 'accidentally' did a models job for the day.

Reiko - before the camera crew that found her even start dragging her away she shuts it down. She instantly tells them that they have the wrong person before she walks away lmao

Rin - at first hes just confused. But eventually he managed to let them know that they had the wrong person. He thought about how he was mistaken for a celebrity for about a week or so afterwards.

Gif anime - dungeon meshi

[ask-cinnavanillamelody]

✨ Twilight, whatever happened to Spike?

*Mom/Aunt Glare at Lightning Flash* ✨

Oh- Sorry, Spike's in the dragon Lands. I sent him there for his safety, Equestria is less dragon-friendly than ever, and unfortunately, he isn't a cute little baby dragon anymore. He's practically bigger than me now, so it's a lot harder to convince others that he's harmless. ✨

F-For the record I always thought dragons were cool- heh-⚡

Don't think just because I'm still answering questions I'm done with scolding you young pony. You have A LOT of explaining to do. ✨

Aw man...⚡

[neons-library]

Apples to the Core: Chapter 1 (My Little Pony FIM Fanfiction)

Summary: (This Fanfiction takes place a few years after “The Ending of the End”) With Equestria in a new age of peace, longer than it’s ever seen, many ponies have settled down into permanent lives and relationships. The Apple Family in particular is settling into a new normal. News of a new member joining their family stirs the Apples into reminiscing on the past, and planning for the future.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55894174

FimFiction Link: https://www.fimfiction.net/story/557478/apples-to-the-core

Next: https://www.tumblr.com/neons-library/750596754667405312/apples-to-the-core-chapter-2-my-little-pony-fim?source=share

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THUD!

The sudden noise startled Applejack awake, the orange mare jolting up in bed and slamming the back of her head against the sturdy wooden headboard. "Ah!" She hissed, quickly lifting a hoof rub at the newly tender spot. WHAM! Another loud clatter rung throughout the Apple family's home. Applejack frowned at this, and quickly leapt from her bed, more than ready to give who-or whatever was making such a terrible ruckus a piece of her mind.

She carefully opened her bedroom door and peered down the hallway of the upper level. Now she could hear the sounds clearer, as her mind's sleepy state cleared away to make room for her senses. The noises consisted of heavy hoof-steps clamoring about the lower level of the home, seemingly running from one side of the house to the other. She could tell now, by the sound that it could be no other pony than her elder brother, Big Macintosh.

Though what the stallion could possibly be doing so late at night, and causing so much noise was beyond her. At the most, she figured that something, somehow had made her brother break out into one of his frantic panic attacks. He didn't suffer from them often, and seemed to less and less since he had married Sugar Belle, and settled down years ago. But, he was still a somewhat anxious pony, and no doubt whatever was causing this current anxiety would be a family matter to solve.

Annoyedly, Applejack wondered who else Big Mac had awoken in his panic. Deciding it would be better to not confront Big Mac alone, Applejack sauntered down the hallway to her younger sister's room. She sighed, and raised a hoof to the door, giving it a careful knock, so as to not further startle her sister. Strangely however, Applejack heard the muffled sounds of her sister yelping in surprise, then the clatter of objects, before finally the door was peeled open.

A teen aged Apple Bloom stood before Applejack, her head hung slightly lower, a sure sign of some sort of guilt. "Uhm." the teenager started, clearly caught off-guard by Applejack coming to her room so late at night, when she more than knew she was supposed to be asleep. On any other night, Applejack would've scolded her sister for staying up so late, but she decided their brother's needs outweighed any mild teenage rebellion.

Apple Bloom quickly stepped out of her room and into the hall, shutting her door right after. "I was jus' studyin, honest!" She fibbed, giving Applejack her signature, "everything's fine!" grin, that she had done ever since she was a young foal. Applejack simply lifted an eyebrow in response as Apple Bloom continued. "Uhm, so why did ya knock?" Another sudden clatter made it's way from the lower level to the ears of the ponies upstairs, making Apple Bloom turn her attention to the stairwell just a few hoof steps away.

"Oh." Apple Bloom commented. "I'm surprised you didn't hear it- nearly gave me concussion, waking up to that racket." Applejack replied, again deciding to avoid confronting her sister staying up late- at least for now. "Uh, yeah, I was... busy." Was all the young mare could reply, intentionally avoiding eye contact with her sister, and still looking towards the stairwell. "We should probably go see what he's up to then, huh?" Apple Bloom asked. Applejack gave a heavy sigh and nod in response.

"Ya don't think he'll wake up Granny with all that?" Apple Bloom asked, now giving a partially worried glance to her sister. Applejack considered the possibility, and took a few steps towards her Grandmother's room, carefully prying open the door and peeking in, Apple Bloom looking on as well. Curled up comfortably in her bed lay Granny Smith, her eyes covered by a hoof-stitched mask. The old mare was snoring away the night, oblivious to any goings-on happening around her, lost in dreamland.

Pulling their heads out and shutting the door once more, Applejack gave a definitive nod. "She's fine." Now deciding it was time they saw what Big Mac was so upset about, both sisters trotted down the old wooden staircase, stopping on the final step to asses the scene. Big Macintosh was running from room to room, gathering papers, quills, pillows, blankets, and, well really any random items that happened to be lying around. Sat on a nearby couch was Sugar Bell, her main still done up in curlers, and snuggled up in her robe, was watching Big Macintosh rush around the family home. Her expression seemed almost worrisome, if it wasn't for the clear tiredness plaguing her mind.

As Big Mac rushed past her into the kitchen, Sugar Belle caught sight of the two sisters on the stairs, their own expressions just as puzzled. "Oh girls!" The pink unicorn exclaimed, quickly getting up from the couch and rushing to her sister-in-laws. "I'm so sorry, Big Mac's in a big panic, and I can't seem to calm him down." She glanced towards the kitchen, where the clatter of pots and pans erupted. The three mares' ears folded back at the noise. "What in tarnation has him in such a tizzy?" Applejack questioned, her patience for her brother's shenanigans starting to run low.

At this Sugar Belle seemed to light up, her expression melting from worry to pure joy. "Oh! Well it's actually something wonderful, I-" Just as the mare began her sentence, Big Mac rushed back into the living room, and quickly, but carefully scooped Sugar Belle up, and set her back on the couch. "Big Mac!" She exclaimed, her frustration poking through for the first time that night. "All right- enough of this!" Applejack huffed, stomping from the stairs to the couches where Big Mac and Sugar Belle sat. Her brother was busying himself setting cushions behind his wife, and arranging an overwhelming pile of blankets around her.

"Big Macintosh!" Applejack interjected, looking accusingly at her brother. Big Mac looked to her, suddenly just now noticing his two sisters awake, and in the room. "What in Celestia's name do you think you're doin?! Runnin' up and down this house, actin like a fool? Youd've woken up half of Equestria with all that noise!" Applejack stomped her hoof with her final statement, her stare never wavering from her brother, whose face had shifted from worry to regret.

"Ah... I'm sorry." He finally stated, looking at his younger sisters, and then to his wife. Sugar Belle placed a hoof on his shoulder and gave a gentle smile. The stallion huffed a breathe of air, pushing out a small amount of anxiety with it. "I just got in a panic cause..." He looked to Sugar Belle again, the unicorn nodded and smiled again, then both ponies turned to look at the rest of their family. "We're having a foal!" Sugar Belle announced, the previous sprinkle of joy returning to her face and tone. She smiled wide, and hugged onto Big Mac for a moment.

Applejack stood in shock for a moment, processing the words, the temptation to squeal for joy building up in her, as if she were a foal on Hearthswarming morning. Luckily for AJ, Apple Bloom beat her to the punch. She squealed with delight, rushing from the stairwell to the couch where Sugar Belle was, giving her sister-in-law the biggest, but gentlest hug she could muster. "I'm gonna be an auntie! I'm gonna be an auntie!" She cried, practically bouncing on the couch cushions. Applejack snapped out of her stupor and walked over to the couch, pulling Apple Bloom back down to earth, and sitting beside her sister.

"That's amazing- I'm so happy for y'all!" Her voice cracked slightly as she gave her condolences. To think: Another apple joining the family! A new foal, someone to guide and love and teach! Apple Bloom, still riding the high of the news hugged AJ and shook her slightly. "We're gonna be aunties!" Applejack simply chuckled at this, smiling along with her sister, then looking to Big Mac. "But, then why're you in such a panic? This is great news!" Big Mac frowned slightly at this, looking away as he replied.

"I just..." His deep green eyes darted around the floor as he tried to come up with an explanation. "I got worried, all of a sudden." He looked back towards his family, his eyes resting on Sugar Belle. "I really am excited, more than I could ever be..." "But I'm worried. I'm worried. I don't know the first thing bout' caring for a foal, an I want to give our baby the best I can..." He trailed off, looking towards his sisters again, a pleading expression now present. Applejack sighed and looked towards Apple Bloom, who had come down from her excitement, and was also looking partially worried.

"Well, I don't think most parents know what to do at first, right?" The teenager questioned, looking around at the adults for confirmation. Applejack nodded in agreement. "That's right, there ain't no book that tells ya what to do- well I mean, I suppose there are some books bout it- and we can get you some of those, but what I mean is," she continued, looking her brother and sister-in-law directly in the eyes. "We're here for you, both of you. And no matter who that little feller turns out to be, we'll always be right there, to help em and you." Sugar Belle and Big Mac smiled proudly at Applejack's statement.

The calm, quiet moment between the family lingered for a small while, before finally being cut by a question from Apple Bloom. "So, wait- what were you runnin round' the house for then?" She questioned, looking around at the random items her brother had gathered and stock-piled around the living room. Big Mac sheepishly grinned, lifting a hoof to rub the back of his neck. "I... don't know." He admitted, also taking a moment to look around the room, and realizing the mess he'd made.

"That's alright." Sugar Belle assured, tapping a hoof on Big Mac's arm. "We'll help you clean it up." She replied, getting up from the couch and lifting some random items with her magic. At first, Big Mac protested this, but Sugar Belle cut him off by lifting a singular hoof up. "Ah! No! I'm more than okay to walk, I'm fine. And I'll be fine for many more months, we've got time." She smiled reassuringly, then gathered a few more items and began putting them back where they belonged.

Big Mac huffed a sigh, then got up and also began to clean. Applejack arose to, and heard a chuckle from behind. Apple Bloom was giggling at her brother being "told off." Applejack shot a stern look at her sister as she began picking up the pillows, blankets and papers scattered about the room. She trotted back into the kitchen, where Big Mac had re-opened a cabinet, and was carefully stuffing pots and pans back into place. She walked over and began helping, making sure to stack the pans in order of smallest to largest. As the two ponies cleaned, Applejack spoke up. "I know you're still gonna be nervous till the little one gets here, and there are some things worth worryin' about." She sighed, not worrying to look directly at Big Mac as she spoke.

"But runnin around the house ain't gonna do anyone any good." The last, small pan slid into place and the cabinet was shut. "If, and when there's worryin to do, we'll be right here to help ya, understand?" She asked, finally making eye contact with her big brother. The stallion simply nodded in response, a small smile briefly crossing his face. Applejack smiled back, and made her way back to the living room, where thankfully Apple Bloom was helping Sugar Belle re-fold the blankets. The family soon finished cleaning the mess left, thankful they'd talked Big Mac down before there was too much damage to their home. Each pony bid each other good night, and all headed back to their rooms.

Apple Bloom was still chattering away, albeit quietly to Applejack as they ascended the stairs. "I just can't wait AJ! It's gonna be so much fun- I'll get to babysit, an' read stories an' arrange play dates an-" Apple Bloom was cut off by her sister placing a single hoof over her mouth, the tiredness of an interrupted sleep catching up to AJ once more. "I know Sugarcube, we're all plenty happy to meet the little one." She took her hoof down, and gave a small yawn as she headed for her own room.

"But it'll still be a long while before we get to meet em', and there's plenty of plannin to do before that." She opened her door, happy to see her bed once more. "But, before any of that, we all need a good night's sleep." Applejack looked to sister once more, her eyes narrowing slightly as she spoke, "Which means everypony needs to get to sleep."

Apple Bloom rolled her eyes, but followed suit and headed to her own room. Just before the teen shut her door completely, she stuck her muzzle through the open gap. "G'dnight." She then promptly shut her door. Applejack sighed to herself, but called back her own 'Goodnight.' She wasn't sure if she'd ever get used to this new attitude Apple Bloom was developing. Sure, it wasn't as bad as it could be, but she sure didn't appreciate her sister giving sass at any opportunity.Still, Applejack thought, entering her own room and shutting the door. She was her older sister, and she'd try to do the best by her that she could manage. AJ crawled back into her bed, gleefully welcoming the warm comfort of her blankets and pillows. In truth, there was a lot to start planning on, and reading about, she knew that to be true. But, for now at least, and until morning, AJ's exhaustion called for her to put aside her worries in place of a restful sleep. AJ found herself agreeing to that, deciding first thing tomorrow she'd start helping Big Mac and Sugar Belle. But for now, rest.

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Sorry if this isn't incredibly in character, still getting used to writing fanfiction again. But this was a simple, sweet little idea that came to me. Consider it a warm-up for future stories I plan to write, in terms of practicing writing, at least. That being said there will be four more chapters following this one, that will hopefully come out soon enough, and I plan on them all being around the same length, so not too long hopefully.

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Sparkle

Genre: Fan Fiction (Sand Castle)

Pairing: N/A

Warnings: It’s so fluffy!

Rating: G

Length: Drabble

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: thank you @rmtndew​ for the edit of Sy in glasses :D More Sy and Wispy? Why yes! 

Henry Cavill Master List

“Uncle Sy,” Annie giggled at her uncle, as he pulled a face. “Sit still.” Her voice going firmer.

Beside her, Willow had her hand on her hips shaking her head at their uncle. “Uncle Sy, we need you to stay very still.”

“Fine, fine.” He gave in sitting statue straight, still as could be.

“Close your eyes, please.” Annie instructed.

Doing as he was asked, Sy closed his eyes and leaning against the couch to support his back. Cross legged on the floor, a mound of pillows under him, he fought the smirk that kept threatening to creep onto his face. The two little girls painting the floral scented mud, clay, paint? Whatever the cool, thick stuff was onto his face. Around his beard, across his cheeks and forehead. Sy felt the soft brush that Aimee had handed them against his skin.

“You know Sy,” Aimee's voice greeted him, yet his eyes remained closed, “this stuff is actually pretty good. It might even help brighten that complexion of yours. Tired and sunburned was so last year.”

Snorting, Sy shook his head, both nieces scolding him for moving while they tried to apply the mask. Directing him to pucker his lips, Willow stood in front of him, a glob of lip moisturizer on her brush, she slapped it on spreading it thickly against his red chapped lips. The girls were taking good care of their Uncle Sy.

At least they wanted to do it at home this time. Sy was unsure of the product quality, but the service was far better and cheaper than when he'd taken them to an actual spa. Now that had been a sight, the look on the woman's face when the giant, bearded man in boots strode into the salon with the two little girls in tow. Despite the initial shock, Sy had to hand it to them, those ladies were magical.

He'd left feeling like his hands, feet, and face had been kissed by angels and butterflies. Hell, he'd even let Willow and Annie pick out a polish for his toes. Sitting in the chair chatting with the woman painting his toes, while his nieces had watched from their own pedicure chairs, Sy learned that men coming in to dote on their daughters and nieces wasn't really all that uncommon. He, however, was one of the first to ask for Pompeii Purple toes. The shade had really brought out his eyes.

In his sister's living room, Sy chuckled when Willow announced that he absolutely needed to trim that scraggly beard of his. In their life time, neither of his nieces had ever bore witness to their uncle without his beard. He liked it too much to part with it. Besides, the women loved it. Clearing his throat, Sy opened his eyes, a mocking frown on his face.

“Don't you dare touch my beard, understood bub?” He smirked. Willow nodded and Annie, standing just out of sight giggled. “There will be no cutting of my beard, until I say so.”

“Oh come on, Sy.” Aimee teased from the kitchen. “You could use a trim,” she winked at Annie.

“I would prefer to do it myself, thank you sister dearest.” He winked at Willow, a near impossible task with the clay beginning to set on his face.

“What if we just make it pretty?” Annie piped up, shuffling into the room with a hairbrush and bows in her hands. “Can we?”

“Please, Uncle Sy.” Willow pulled out the puppy dog eyes. Bouncing on her tip toes with excitement.

Playfully grumbling, Sy waited a minute or two. Letting the little girls get antsy before agreeing. Under some conditions. Nothing but a comb and some pink sparkly bows went into his beard. If they so much as tugged the wrong way, Sy was combing it himself. His beard was his pride and joy, right after his Wispy. He'd worked hard over the years to grow this bad boy.

“Gently,” He reminded them, lifting his chin for Willow to gingerly take the comb through his thick beard.

Climbing onto the couch behind him, Annie sat with her legs crossed gently rubbing a hair brush through his growing curls. A full out pamper day wasn't entirely bad. Enjoying his “spa treatment”, Sy winced when he heard Aimee giggling like a child on too much sugar. He knew his sister well enough to know that this was not going to be good.

“Aim, what in the hel-ck are you doing?” Sy asked glancing at his sister. Her phone poised as she giggled and shrugged.

“I thought ma might like to see. Maybe fire one off to the boys. You still in touch with the Major? Show him what retirement does for ya?”

“You wouldn't dare,”

“Send one to the Major? No. But I would send it to ma and everyone else we know. Come on Sy, you're adorable. You should let me share this on that mommy blog, it would be a hit.” She laughed. “Former Army Captain attacked by Girl Scouts.”

Sy replied with a grunt. More than one single mother, and a few not so single, on that damn blog Aimee was part of had themselves hot and bothered for the youngest Syverson. Every time Aimee mentioned her brother, at least one woman would ask if he was seeing somebody or how he liked children, who weren't his. Sy liked children fine, but he had no interest in taking on any to parent.

“Leave Uncle Sy alone,” Willow pouted, as she put the last bow into his beard. “Don't be mean, mommy.”

“I wasn't being mean, baby girl. Uncle Sy and I were teasing. Now, why don't you finish up those bows and help him wash his face. You can't leave the mask on too long, remember.”

“Oops,”

“It's okay bub,” Sy pulled away from the hair styling by Annie. “You ladies clean up a bit out here and I will go clean my face off.”

Striding down the hall, Sy could feel the clay on his face hardening and drying. If nothing else his pores would be flawless for a few days. Chuckling as he went, he could hear Annie and Willow in the living room. No doubt discussing their next plan for their uncle's beauty treatment. If he had to, there was a lovely yellow nail polish that he'd been eyeing in the box of tricks. It may not be the right season for yellow, but it would surely make the hair on his big toes really pop.

In the bathroom, he grabbed a wash cloth and turned the taps. Allowing the water to reach a nice, warm temperature he began scrubbing the dried clay away from his face. The bows in his hair and beard were a sight to behold. Admiring the handy work, Sy stood for a few seconds looking at the man in the mirror. The one grizzled, gruff, hard as nails and fearless Captain was reduced to a soft and gentle giant.

He loved spending the time with the kids, allowing them to have their fun, before Uncle Sy packed up and drove back across town. It was no wonder people were forever asking him when he'd have his own. Ah well, it was better this way. Sy enjoyed the company of the kids, but all the time and he would be even more grizzled and cranky than he was when he was stationed over in the desert.

Being home had it's perks, like getting to be with his family whenever he wanted. Having sleepovers with the kids, whenever Willow decided that he was lonely in his house. Or how she was forever trying to set him up with any woman they came across, while he had her out. That one was less and less cute, especially as she had somehow been targeting only married women lately.

The last thing Sy wanted was to get his ass kicked by some woman's husband or wife, for hitting on their wife because some kid said she was pretty. Shaking his head, he finished checking himself in the mirror to make sure he had all of the clay off.

Cleaned up and refreshed Sy joined the girls in the living room.

“Ladies, what's next?”

“Lunch!” “Make up!”

Laughing at their very different ideas, he nodded to Annie. “I agree lunch is the much better idea, make up can be after.”

“But mommy said we could go out for lunch. You can't go out unless you have a proper face on.” Willow pouted. Annie sighed. Her cousin had a point.

“Girls,” Aimee spoke, she was about to do everything in her mom power, to get Sy out of this one. As amused as it would be, seeing her brother go to lunch in a full face of make up.

“No, no she's right.” Sy nodded in agreement. “Aim, why not let Annie do your make up and Wispy can do mine. Then we'll all be ready for lunch, hel-ck, I'll even pay. Treat all of my girls.”

“Yeah!” The cheers went up from the girls.

Aimee, rolling her eyes and making a mental note to kill her brother later on. She would never forgive him, nor forget. Some day, she would get him back.  This is when she should suggest wearing their best dresses – Sy included. Instead, she'd pay him back when he least expected. Maybe the next time, she'd insist they go for lunch wearing some over the top princess costumes.

Sy chuckled, what did they have to lose? At 11 years old, Annie was more than capable at putting together some make up. Willow was eccentric with her colour palate, but Sy wasn't worried much about that.

“Mommy, please. Please, we can all do our make up and go for lunch.”

“I hate you,” Aimee whispered passing her laughing brother, sitting down on the floor. “Okay, girls, let's get to it. Then we can make Uncle Sy take us for the best lunch, we've ever had.”

“Drive thru at Burger King isn't that fancy,” laughing, Sy nudged his sister with his elbow.

“Oh, but Sy if we have our best faces on, we need something better than cheap burgers in a bag. I was hoping maybe we could go to Janet's.”

It was Sy's turn to roll his eyes and stifle a groan. Of course Aimee would insist they go inside to eat. Saturday was the busiest day of the week for the small diner. Whatever, Sy was man enough to take it. With more confidence than anyone had ever seen, he would walk into that diner, head high, and his beard bows sparkling. The things he did to keep these children happy.

If it meant buying a hundred ponies, wearing full make up, and walking across a floor of legos – Sy would do it all to see these kids smile.

“I love Janet's!” Willow squealed dancing on her tiptoes, nearly poking her uncle in the eye with the eye shadow brush she was using. The hot pink creme shadow she had chosen for him was really going to pop with his dark beard. “Uncle Sy, please. Please can we go? You said that you would take me there the next time we went for lunch, you said that I could have a big sundae and...”

“Sy?” A sideways glance at her baby brother, Aimee puckered her lips for Annie to apply some lipstick. Offering the kids ice cream as a meal wasn't a crime, but it would explain why they sometimes came home bouncing around like mad hornets in an old coke can.

“Wispy, you're not supposed to tell your ma that I let you at ice cream as a meal.”

“Sorry, but can I?”

“Maybe for dessert, you can Annie can shade a giant sundae.” Aimee reasoned.

“Fine, but the next time we go....” Staring at her uncle, Willow pouted.

“Whatever you want, bubs.” Smirking at his sister, Sy conveniently pointed to the blush in the bag, asking Willow if she thought the orangeish colour would work for him.  “Whatever you want.”

[ask-iamnotanalicorn]

Previous: The Tirek Timeline

The Discorded Timeline

The new Element bearers had not appeared. With nothing to fall back on, Celestia went to face the return of her sister armed only with her determination and desperation. With the knowledge that anything other than subduing her sister would result in Luna’s death or her ponies’ enslavement, Celestia fought with all her heart. 

A thousand years hadn’t tempered Nightmare Moon’s madness, but it had grown Celestia’s magical skill. The clash of the last remaining alicorns filled the sky with light and darkness that could be seen across the entire country... including from the gardens of the castle in Canterlot, where a long-dormant statue waited.

If Celestia had known the danger... if she had known that the Tree of Harmony had grown weaker over a thousand years... if she had known that the Element magic used to imprison Discord was weakened with it, and he only needed one significant bit of discord to break the last lock on his prison... she might have preferred allowing Nightmare Moon to take the throne. 

Because two alicorn sisters displaying their ground-shattering discord across the skies was more than enough. 

Discord caught them mid-battle...and was honestly kinda irritated to find them more focused on fighting each other than challenging him. He couldn’t even set up a good game for them to lose at before he took over! He’d just have to fix that with a bit of chaos magic. A quick boop to the heads, and... well, things didn’t turn out quite like he expected. Celestia became haughty, snide, and violent, but Luna changed out of her (decidedly tacky, but what could you expect from pony fashion) goth look and turned all nice and weirdly remorseful. Luna tried to appeal to her sister, Celestia (who now had an interesting tinge of fire in her mane) unleashed some demeaning verbal attacks, and pretty soon it looked like they were gearing up for another fight, and...

Well, this was stupid. They were so focused on each other, they weren’t even paying attention to him! He’d fix that with another boop on Celestia’s noggin - really annoying, having to un-chaos someone, but at least it put the two ponies on the same side so they could get their priorities straight and focus on...

Ah, yes, there it was! Just what he’d waited for these past thousand years: two alicorn sisters, both staring at him with horror and worry and that oh-so-precious pony determination. Too bad they had already worn themselves out with their fight over who-knew-what. They were almost pathetically easy to overpower, especially with not an Element in sight.

The princesses were his playthings. Equestria would be shifted and reformed under his chaotic whim. And none stood able to challenge him.

The Reign of Discord had begun.

----

Meanwhile, Salespitch was visiting Canterlot at just the wrong time, and... 

Well, what do you think happens when a lord of chaos notices a pony standing in the middle of the road, trying its hardest to not show how petrified it is, and it has a horn and wings but clearly no alicorn magic? And then said lord of chaos investigates said pony out of curiosity, mocks him about playing princess, and is amazed when said pony actually gets annoyed enough to scold Discord that no, he is NOT an alicorn, he’s never WANTED to be an alicorn, and he would really prefer it if people didn’t mistake him for royalty when he’s just a stallion with a genetic mutation trying to live a normal life!!!

Discord thought that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. 

Long story short, instead of Discording Sales’ personality, Discord just... made his biggest annoyance a reality. Obviously he didn’t give Sales FULL alicorn powers, and what powers he did give him are pretty wonky - the ability to turn random objects into suitcases, and fly upside down, and speak in a dramatic Royal Canterlot Voice at random and totally inconvenient times, etc. The royal regalia was a stroke of genius inspired by one of this new era’s “cartoon characters,” a perky little alicorn called Prince Smiley. (The fact that Sales had once dressed as said character for Nightmare Night was sheer coincidence, although Discord would have found that even more perfect.) 

Obviously Sales was horrified, which is really the wrong reaction, because it just made the whole thing funnier to Discord and thus made the draconequus that much less likely to forget about Sales and go pester other ponies. Anonymity is your friend in Discord’s kingdom.

Now, Discord being Discord, he gets bored of things easily - including mocking and tormenting the powerless alicorn princesses. There’s a whole nation to twist and remodel into a true chaotic kingdom! Plenty of other ponies to give him some variety. Turning them to stone would be so gauche and ruin his single moral high ground over the ponies, so when Discord tires of his princess fun, he turns the alicorn sisters into fillies and leaves them with his newly-appointed Prince of Babysitting. After all, shouldn’t an "alicorn” be in charge of baby alicorns? Discord even made him a lovely glass castle with stone windows - more of a cage, really, since Sales can’t leave it, but he has a throne and everything! Discord doesn’t even have to worry about manipulating somecreatures into worshipping the new “prince”; Sales has already got his own cult that fawns over him outside the see-through castle like a fanclub, to Sales’ eternal embarrassment. Yes, this is clearly the best setup Discord could have come up with all around, takes-hand-off-and-pats-self-on-the-back.

Time passes with no end in sight for the madness that has turned Equestria into a kaleidoscope’d chaos playground. Sales kind of falls into a perpetually annoyed resignation. He tries to be grateful - at least he still possesses full control of his mind, unlike so many ponies outside his weird castle. He has the honor of safeguarding the princesses - although he feels guilty that he can’t actually protect them from Discord’s whims. But he can keep them happy, and the few times he gets to talk with them before or after they’ve been in their baby states, Celestia manages to give him a word of encouragement or gratitude. (Plus, well, they ARE pretty adorable as fillies... even if he is NOT the world’s best babysitter and has to figure things out on the fly. He really wishes his mom were here.)

There is one actual advantage to all this. Ironically, Sales has a closer connection with Discord than most; since Discord made Sales the caretaker of the princesses, he actually talks to Sales sometimes. Granted, he mostly treats Sales as a captive audience to whine at when Discord starts getting bored of whatever recent chaotic plan he’s enacted. After all, when EVERYTHING is chaos... well, chaos almost becomes normal, so Discord keeps having to up himself. Sales actually manages to have conversations with him sometimes, and he’s gotten a glimpse of the truth even Discord can’t or won’t recognize: that he’s lonely, dissatisfied, and lacks a real sense of purpose or fulfillment.

Sales has to treat carefully, since annoying or upsetting Discord too much results in chaotic ‘punishments’ that are usually more disorienting and frustrating than actually harmful. But Sales has started picking his ear a little bit with hints that maybe Discord is bored because most creatures subject to his chaos don’t enjoy it like he does? Maybe sharing fun WITH people is better than just having fun for yourself at others’ expense? I mean, look at you, Discord, the only pony you really talk to is a nobody you made into an alicorn just to embarrass him.  That’s a pretty lonely way to live, isn’t it?

Sometimes Discord listens while making snarky comments. Other times Discord gets irritated and turns Sales into a tiny alicorn who has to ride around on baby Celestia’s back and try not to get stepped on (or something of that nature). But Sales keeps trying and hoping and praying he’ll get through, because if they ever hope to stop Discord’s reign of chaos... well, it might just take teaching the Lord of Chaos what friendship is.

Even if the only pony currently able to make the effort finds him super annoying.

-----

Fun Facts About The Discorded Timeline:

- Yes, Luna’s popsicle is her cutie mark. I suppose once she digests it it will reappear back on her flank. XD

- Cadence hasn’t become an alicorn yet in this timeline. The chaos events do lead to her meeting Shining Armor, though, because TRUE LOVE and such :D

- Sales’ cult ABSOLUTELY LOVES THIS SITUATION. I mean, a lot of them hope/expect that Sales will eventually break free and defeat Discord now that he is showing his true alicorn might. Sales yells at them through the walls sometimes, but they have a hard time hearing him, so naturally they make up all sorts of “godly” nonsense he’s supposedly sharing.

- Discord did in fact accidentally cure Luna of the bad magic that was fueling and feeding off her old rage and paranoia. She and Celestia have pretty well made up through these weird events. And as Discord grows bored of their initial humiliation, his torments get less frightening and more, well, just weird, so life is KINDA bearable. Plus they really like Sales now (they don’t remember their adult selves while they are babies, but Discord makes sure they can remember every embarrassing toddler thing they did when they get aged back to normal.)

- Sales doesn’t know what’s going on with his family, they were back home when this happened. He’s hopeful they didn’t get affected too badly. In fact, Featherhorn (his hometown) got turned into a cardboard village and a few ponies had their heads swapped around, but Discord hasn’t made any connection between them and Sales, so he doesn’t think anything special of the place. Mostly just chocolate rain, flying rhinobunnies, and corncob trees. Everypony agrees it could be worse (but not out loud, that’s just ASKING for trouble!) Also Per talks backwards now, but everyone can still understand her (somehow) so it evens out.

- Black DOES run into Discord at one point while trying to sneak into Sales’s castle. Discord thinks he’s just another of Sales’ fanclub, so he turned him blue and forgot about him. Black finds this super annoying, especially when he can’t change his color no matter what magical disguise he makes.

- Don’t even worry about Sombra, he’s not touching a Discorded Equestria with a ten foot pole. Honestly Discord probably went after him as soon as he showed up, adding the Crystal Empire to his chaos kingdom. 

- The Changelings are staying the HECK away in their nice little magic-negating castle, the only safe haven from Discord. Pony refugees actually try and go there, although it is tricky to get around the thick forest of living candy Discord erected all the way around their territory. Those who do get in exchange servitude and donations of love for safety. It keeps the changelings fed and the ponies feel safer working for bug-ponies in a place of order than out in the madness of Discord’s land.

- So as you might imagine, Sales can’t break through the glass of his glass castle. If he were to try and smash through the stone windows, though... let’s just say he feels really smart AND really dumb while making his escape attempt. It doesn’t go over well with Discord, especially when he manages to successfully pawn the baby princesses off to some of his cult members (one of whom is Black, don’t worry), who hide them away. This leads to a rather heated conversation when Discord catches up with him... and perhaps a moment of truth where Discord might realize he actually does maybe kinda sorta consider this silly brown pony a friend who he possibly doesn’t want to severely punish as a warning to other ponies who might defy him. Maybe.

- Art note: I didn’t draw a background for this one initially, and then I got around to coloring them and knew it needed SOMETHING. Came up with the glass castle with stone windows because that seems Discord-like. Also baby bottle trees. The idea for breaking the stone windows was literally last minute as I wrote this, so bonus!

Next Week: Industrial Devolution (Flim Flim Universe)

[randomly-a-fan]

Malon's First Time At The Hospital Pt. 3

Pt. 1

Pt. 2

At the hospital in Haddonfield, Malon was having her light breakfast before she has her temperature and blood pressure checked. Jason was looking out the window far out from the horizon, thinking about his home; he senses that something is wrong. He wanted to go out there and check, but he has no way to get there, and he didn’t want to leave Malon behind while she’s still recovering.

Malon’s coughs were getting less painful, so the medicine that the doctors gave her are working great. Just then, MJ came in with a ‘Get Well Soon’ balloon. “Hi, sweetie... How are you feeling?” MJ asked in a gentle tone while approaching her. “Hi mom... I’m starting to get less coughs, and my chest is starting to hurt less,” Malon answered. “But I still have to stay in the hospital for another night.” Malon said sadly. “I know you missed being home, but you’ll be going home soon; the doctor told me that you’re making a speedy recovery, and that we might go home tomorrow night if you get your appetite back.” MJ explained. Malon smiled to hear the good news.

*** 

Back at Camp Crystal Lake, Aquarius took her kids to check the Voorhees’ cabin, to see if there are any plants that needed to be watered. But as Aquarius entered in, she was shocked to see the blood on the walls and the couch. “What the Hel-- hel... hel--li--coptors...” Aquarius didn’t want to cuss in front of her kids, even though Archie has heard worse cusses than Hell, but she didn’t want Kandy to know the word since she’s only a baby. “Archie... Take your sister home... There’s something I got to do.” Aquarius ordered. Archie was shocked by his mom’s reaction, however, he was more surprised by the mess and how loud the music was. “Come on, Kandy, lets go home to daddy.” Archie said to his baby sister.

After Archie took Kandy home, Aquarius decided to clean the place up while observing the cause for this disruption. She was going to clean the couch until her cellphone rang. 

“Hello?” Aquarius answered.

It was MJ that was on the phone from the hospital. “Hi Star, I’m just calling to ask you a favor, would you or Pennywise mind checking on Camp Crystal Lake, Jason was having the senses that something is wrong.” MJ explained.

Aquarius didn’t want MJ or Jason to know about the mess in the cabin, since she knew it might infuriate the family, especially Jason. “Of course I will, well heck, I’ll even clean up the place if you liked me to.” Aquarius offered.

While being unaware, Michael approaches the cabin and saw what he thought to be a ‘trespasser’, so he took out his knife and approach to her slowly with his knife raised. Aquarius senses someone’s presence so she had to cut the conversation short. “I love chatting with you, but I must go now, bye.” Aquarius hung up the phone and quickly did the spin attack on her still-on roller-skates; she may have dodged the knife, but the ‘stalker’ did not get knocked out. So she pounced on him. Michael tried to choke Aquarius to death, but she was quick thinking and grabbed a knife that he dropped and stabbed his arm. However, Michael was not affected by the knife stab; which worried her since she’s in a deadly position. 

Aquarius tried to remove his hand, but his grip is too strong. As she was slowly perishing, his grip loosened as he was being grabbed. Pennywise came at a nick of time; the truth is that Jason called Pennywise’s place earlier back at the hospital and answered it. MJ called from Aquarius’s cell, so it was strangely ironic. Pennywise lifted Michael in the air with a mad glare. “No one strangles my wife... except me!” Pennywise scolded. Michael did not show any reaction as usual, but whatever Michael is saying in his mind made Pennywise put him down. “You’re an acquaintance of Jason Voorhees?” Pennywise asked while still holding him by the shoulder. Aquarius finished coughing out blood before she spoke up severely. “Ask him why he trashed the place! There better be a promising explanation for his behavior, or else I’ll eat off his face...” Aquarius threatened. “You’re going to want to answer that question, because she’s a sin-muncher, and I’m sensing that you’re responsible for a full amount of sins.” Pennywise said. Michael was surprised that he can read his mind, so if he can read his mind, he can explain his reasons for this mess.

***

At the hospital, Malon was eating her lunch, a lot more than usual; which is a good sign that she’s hungry because it means that she’s starting to get better. “My goodness, Malon, you ate up all of your food like a vacuum.” MJ joked. “Well I was hungry... I’m starting to feel a little bit better each time.” Malon explained. Just then, nurse Linda came in. “Hello Malon, I just thought I come up to see how you are doing; I see you’ve eaten all of your lunch.” Linda assumes. Malon nodded with a smile. “Since you’re getting better, I thought I take you over to the play area; we have a special guest coming today.” Linda explained. “Can I mom?” Malon asked her mom. “Of course you can, and I’m sure daddy will let you as well.” MJ said while smiling at her husband. Jason nodded as he accepts the idea of Malon playing with the other kids, so she wouldn’t have to be cooped up on her bed.

Back at Camp Crystal Lake, Aquarius frustratedly scrubbed the floors while Michael watches. “Michael, will you please stop staring at me? it’s annoying because I can sense you!” Aquarius said in a grumble. “Don’t be a corpse in the weeds Pretty-Blue, at least what Michael told me about him getting rid of the trespassers that broke-in was pretty noble.” Pennywise said. “You know what, that’s great, maybe we can give him a treat; or even better, let’s keep him; Archie has been asking for a pet this morning, Michael would be perfect, we just have to take him to the vet and have him neutered!” Aquarius said in a sarcastic and sassy tone. Pennywise just chuckles and crawled towards her to comfort her. “Don’t be so dramatic, I know what’s best for everyone; no subconscious mind tells a lie.” Pennywise reassures before he kissed Aquarius passionately. 

Without realizing, they noticed Michael actually wiping the couch, almost as if there’s something within him that is so toxic and disgusting to his character. “Let’s keep cleaning the place up for the Voorhees, then we shall do something together as a family with our kids.” Pennywise suggested. Aquarius nodded and agreed, even though Pennywise is not the kind of being that likes to do chores, but he does get a lot of TLC afterwards.

***

When Malon was being taken to the Play Area, Jason wrote a note to MJ about what he wanted to do. “I’m thinking of going back home to check on the place, is that alright with you?” Jason wrote. MJ frowned, she thought that her calling Aquarius would calm Jason’s nerves, she even heard from Malon that her dad also called the Gray’s place. However, she can’t really tell him what he can or can not do, but she did gave him a reasonable response. “I can’t really stop you, since it’s my turn to spend the night with Malon anyway, but you should ask Malon and see what she thinks.” MJ suggested. Jason nodded and decided to take her advice.

Jason walked over to the play area to see Malon with the question that he have wrote for her. He was watching Malon drawing and coloring, he tried to get her attention until he saw what she was drawing. “What’s that you coloring?” The little sick girl asked. “That’s me and daddy; he was always there for me whenever I needed him...” Then Malon noticed her daddy and waved at him happily. Jason waved back at his daughter with a tearful smile; he looked at the note and then back at Malon, he decided to not worry about his cabin, his family comes first, especially Malon’s, so he tared up the paper and threw it into the recycling bin. Jason was going to go back to her room, until he spotted a Shetland Pony heading towards the play area, he assumes that the pony was the ‘special guest’ that Linda was talking about.

Malon and the rest of the young patients went out to meet the little pony, Malon has never seen a little pony so tiny that Malon teared up over cuteness. She was going to pet it until the man grabbed her by the wrist to stop her. “Don’t touch him, the sign said to not touch.” The man said, he didn’t mean any harm, but Malon is still tearing up, so she decided to go back to her room. Only to realize that she doesn’t remember where she came from or how to get back to her room; the nurse was preoccupied that she wasn’t paying attention to Malon.

Luckily, her dad was close by, so he caught up to her and gently lay a hand on her. Malon turned around and hugged her daddy while tearing up. “I want to go back to my room!” Malon mumbled into his shirt. Jason rubbed her back to comfort her, he saw the whole situation with the man and his Shetland Pony; if he weren’t in a public place, he’d kill him in a instant for making his daughter cry, but he has to hold himself back and not make a scene. Eventually, Jason guided her to her room and put her up to her bed. “You’re back quickly, everything okay?” MJ asked. Malon shook her head and decided to sleep it through from her depression. Jason wrote a note to his wife and explained to her about what happened. “Aww... That’s not fair... Service animals were supposed to be used for little kids to cuddle, like dogs and puppies... Did she cry?” MJ asked. Jason nodded sadly as he almost cried himself. 

MJ got up and walked towards Malon and gave her a lingering kiss by the cheek, which gave Malon a half smile with a dimple; just like when she was a baby. Even though Jason is sad over Malon’s disappointing opportunity, he’s glad he didn’t decide on leaving for home, or else Malon would have gotten herself lost from wandering through the hospital. He’s grateful for listening to his own family instincts and not think too much about his home.

To Be Continued

[superfreakerz]

Book Club

Hello! Been a while. Here is my story for the Fairy Tail Reverse bang held by @ftguildevents :) I am out of practice, as you could probably tell from this story, but it was fun trying to get back into writing. My partner was the amazing @crackheadart42 :) Pls go check out the awesome art that inspired this story! :D

https://crackheadart42.tumblr.com/post/628962021230166016/hey-guys-this-was-one-of-my-two-entries-for-the

Book Club

"Sorry, I can't go on a job with you guys today. I've got book club with Levy-chan and Freed," Lucy said as she tied her hair into her typical side pony.

Natsu crossed his arms with a huff. "Book club? Since when were you guys in some sort of club?"

"I told you about it last week! We can go on a job tomorrow!"

"But Luuucy!" Happy whined. "We found the perfect job for you! If we don't go today, we'll have to let someone else take it and it'll be gone by tomorrow!"

"Then so be it," Lucy said with a shrug. "Listen, I've gotta go meet them at the coffee shop now. I'll see you guys tomorrow. Or later tonight if you want to come over. Bye!"

Natsu pouted, watching as the blonde skipped out the door, an eager grin plastered on her face.

"What's she so excited for?" he wondered. "It's just book club, right? What can be so fun about that?"

"What do you wanna do now, Natsu?" Happy's voice rang out.

"Hmm… Wanna go to the guild?"

"Sure! Today will be the day I win Charle's heart!"

Natsu grinned. "Good luck, buddy!"

Arriving at the guild, a gloomy aura immediately suffocated him. Expecting it to be a recently rejected Juvia, per usual, he searched the room for the water mage in suspect only to find her latched onto Gray's arm, happy grin glued to her face. Sitting across from the pair, however, were Gajeel and Lily, the former resting his head on the table. The negative energy that surrounded the dragon slayer was practically tangible.

"What's wrong with you, Metal Mouth?" Natsu asked, plopping beside the other dragon slayer while Happy flew off to flirt with Charle.

"None of your business, Salamander," Gajeel replied, his voice gruff as usual.

"Oh, right. Levy is at book club."

Gajeel lifted his head to glare at him. "Whatever."

"Yeah, Lucy's there too, even though we found the perfect job for her. I don't see what's so special about some stupid book club!"

Gray studied Natsu. It was clear the boy was aggravated without Lucy around, if his scrunched up face and crossed arms were anything to go by. Just like that, an opportunity was found.

"Maybe it's not so much about the books, but more about the company," Gray said, all the while trying to hold back laughter.

"What do you mean?" Natsu asked.

"What if she just wants to hang out with Freed?"

"Freed? Those two rarely talk."

"Yeah, but you can't deny that they seem to work well together. Hell, he's a lot like the Prince Charming she used to always talk about when she first joined the guild. He's smart, reads a lot, he's more refined. Who knows, maybe she's into him. Maybe they're on a date." Hook, line, and sinker.

Natsu's eyes widened. "N-No way! Levy's there too!"

Cana, having heard their conversation and wanting to join in on the fun, chimed in, "Well duh. Lucy's too inexperienced. She's probably too nervous about being out on her first date, so she brought Levy along to make it less awkward."

Natsu stood up, slamming his hands on the table. Heat radiated off of him as he tried to control his temper.

"I'm going home," he said, eyebrows scrunched in annoyance. With hands shoved in his pockets, he was out the door without another word.

Gajeel scoffed. "How pathetic."

Gray and Cana immediately set their eyes on their new target.

"You know," Cana began, "I think Levy and Freed would make a really cute couple too though. Blue and green compliment each other."

"I think you're right," Gray replied. "Who's to say that Levy and Freed won't hit it off instead?"

And in the blink of an eye, Gajeel was out the door. With that, the entire guild bursted into laughter.

"Gray-sama, that was too mean!" Juvia said between laughs.

"I just can't help myself! They make it too easy!" the ice mage replied.

"I see this going one of two ways," Cana chimed in. "Either they're going to go batshit crazy on their book club, or they're going to sit around all day listening to sad love songs. Either way, I'd say that was a success!"

While the guild all laughed about Natsu and Gajeel's jealousy, they failed to see another dragon slayer sneak out the door.

"Oi, Salamander," Gajeel's voice rang out.

Natsu didn't bother glancing over his shoulder. "What do you want?"

"Where do you think you're going?"

"None of your business."

"You spying on Bunny Girl?"

Natsu blushed, his brows slanting in annoyance. "No! I'm just going on a walk!"

"Oh really?" Gajeel replied with a skeptical grin. "Because you're going the same way that Lucy's scent leads."

"Oh yeah? Then where are you going? Because Levy's scent leads this way too."

"D-Does it? I was just getting some coffee."

"You don't drink coffee."

"I'm trying something new!"

"Psh, yeah. Sure you are."

With that said, the two brooding dragon slayers walked in silence the rest of the way to the coffee shop, where the girls they pined over every day just so happened to be at.

Reaching the coffee shop, Natsu reached for the door handle when Gajeel grabbed him by the wrist.

"Idiot! They're gonna be pissed if we go in there and ruin their book club!" he barked.

Natsu furrowed his brows. "I wasn't gonna do anything!"

"Bullshit! If I let you in there now, this place will probably be burned to the ground!"

"Just let go already!"

"No way!"

"Will you two just shut up already?" a new voice rang out.

Natsu and Gajeel jumped before turning around to find Laxus peering at them with his usual expressionless face.

"Laxus? What are you doing here?" Natsu asked.

The blonde's eyes darted up to the sky before replying, "Just making sure you two numbskulls don't make a mess that Gramps has to pay for later. So, you guys are spying on Levy and Lucy, right?"

The two boys blushed and shouted in unison, "No way!"

"Yeah, whatever. There's a window over there. If you really wanna go spy on them, use that instead of going inside."

Natsu and Gajeel shared a quick glance before rushing towards the window. The two slowly peeked their heads high enough to see Lucy, Levy, and Freed sharing a table. Levy was skimming through her book while Lucy and Freed chatted with huge smiles on their faces.

Gajeel heaved a sigh of relief. "Okay, good. Levy's not interested in him at all, she only cares about the book."

Natsu huffed, watching as Lucy's smile grew while she wiped tears from her eyes, which were produced by laughing too hard. His stomach churned. He thought only he was able to make her laugh like that.

As he watched the two talk, his bad feeling only got worse. Gray's words from before haunted him. He was right, they did seem to hit it off. Freed liked everything Lucy did; reading, writing, just about everything that Natsu wasn't interested in. Maybe they were a better pair.

He thought back to the moments he shared with Lucy. All of the times she had scolded him for breaking into her apartment but never kicked him out, all the times they had hugged, and all the times that they were each other's point of comfort. He shook his head. There was no way that Freed could be better for Lucy than he was.

Meanwhile, Laxus stood behind the other two dragon slayers, watching Freed talk to Lucy. Even though he knew he was being irrational, he couldn't help feeling uneasy. Even though Freed made his feelings for him apparent, he never made any real attempts to reciprocate those feelings. What if Freed had gotten tired of waiting? What if Lucy, the girl who so clearly shared so many of his interests, was the new person he was pining for?

"This is stupid," Laxus muttered under his breath.

"You're telling me," Natsu replied.

"Sucks for you, my girlfriend is really just interested in the book, so ha!"

"You sure about that?"

"What do you- Wait, no! Don't talk to him, Levy! Pick up the book! Go back to being a bookworm!"

As the three watched from outside, the air around them became thicker and thicker. Just about anything could've sent them over the edge. And finally, it happened.

It was an innocent gesture, really. Freed had said something funny, to which both girls laughed at. After, he placed his hands on their shoulders. And just like that, the door had been blown open while three sour dragon slayers marched over to them.

Lucy was the first to turn around after hearing the door slam open.

"Natsu? What are you doing here?" she asked, glancing around to notice the whole coffee shop staring at them.

The boy stopped in front of her, glaring at the hand that for some reason was still propped upon her shoulder. Meanwhile, Gajeel took a more direct approach by simply picking Levy up and throwing her over his shoulder.

"Later!" he said, all the while carrying her out.

Lucy deadpanned. "What the hell is going on?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Natsu muttered. It was taking every bit of patience in him not to burn Freed's hand to a crisp.

Luckily, Freed had caught on to Natsu's foul mood. However, instead of removing his hand, he smiled at the angry dragon slayer as if taunting him.

"Hello, Natsu. What are you doing here?" he asked. He then turned to face Laxus, a bright blush overcoming his face. "Laxus! You're here to see me!"

The blonde blushed and looked away. "No I'm not. I'm just here to make sure this one doesn't do anything stupid."

Natsu crossed his arms. "Freed, you've got three seconds."

Freed sighed before finally removing his hand from Lucy's shoulder.

Lucy glanced between the two of them, totally oblivious as to what was going on. One minute she was having a good time in book club, the next Levy was being taken away while Natsu was threatening Freed.

"Can't I just have one normal day without your crazy antics?" she said, slapping a hand to her forehead. Grabbing her book, she stood up. "Let's go. Levy-chan is gone now anyways. Sorry, Freed. We'll do this again some other time."

Freed nodded. "Alright. I'll see you next time."

With that, Lucy grabbed Natsu by the ear and dragged him out of the shop, leaving Freed and Laxus.

Laxus heaved a sigh of relief before sitting across from his partner.

"I'm so happy!" the other boy's voice rang out.

"Huh? For what?"

"You came because you were jealous! If that isn't the most romantic thing-"

"Oi, who said I was jealous?"

"Oh, Laxus. It's written all over your face!"

Laxus scoffed, covering his mouth with his hand before a smile broke out over his face.

"Yeah, yeah. So, do you want to tell me about your book since we messed up your club?"

Freed's grin grew even wider, which Laxus thought was impossible.

"Okay!"

"Put me down, Gajeel!" Levy shouted, banging on his back.

Townspeople ignored them, having been used to Fairy Tail's crazy antics. It wasn't the first time they had seen Gajeel carrying Levy over his back through town, and it wouldn't be their last either.

"Not until we're back at your place," the scruffy boy replied.

Having had enough, she yanked on his hair, causing him to yelp before finally letting her go.

"The hell do you think you're doing?" Gajeel barked, rubbing his head.

"That's my line, idiot!" Levy replied. "What are you getting so jealous about? It's just book club!"

"J-Jealous? I'm not jealous!"

"You think I don't know you enough by now to know when you're jealous? Seriously, Gajeel! Sometimes you can be so annoying!"

With slanted brows, he rubbed the back of his head while turning away from her. She went on and on about how immature he was, each word a slap in the face, making him realize how dumb he was being.

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Say it again," Levy demanded, crossing her arms.

"I'm sorry."

"Look at me while you say it!"

"Jeez, I'm sorry, okay! Need me to get on my hands and knees?"

Levy let out a giggle. "No, that won't be necessary this time. But I'm warning you, next time you interrupt book club, I won't be so forgiving. I was really looking forward to gushing about the characters of the book we just read!"

"Yeah, I know. It's not my fault, though. Gray and Cana were talking about how you and Freed would make a cute couple and I guess I just lost it."

Levy smiled, holding her hand out to the boy. Lacing her fingers with his, they began their walk back to her apartment. Her smile widened as she rested her hand over her belly.

"Well, you don't have to worry about anything like that ever again, okay?" she said, her cheeks burning red.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Gajeel asked, tilting his head.

"Oh nothing." Before he could question her any further, she continued, "I wonder how Natsu and Lu-chan are right now."

"Uhh, Lucy? How long are you gonna be dragging me by the ear?" Natsu asked, eyes squinted in pain.

"Until you realize how much of an idiot you're being," the blonde answered with a huff. "I mean seriously, Natsu. Was the job that important that you had to barge in on book club?"

The boy scrunched his face in annoyance. "Not really."

"Then what was it? Because I can't have you keep pushing my boundaries!"

Lucy was about to go off on a rant when a warm hand gripped her wrist, pulling her hand away from Natsu's ear. He quickly spun her around. His face was serious, much different than his usual carefree grin. Something was bothering him.

"Do you really not know?" he asked, voice low. He kept his hand latched to her wrist.

Lucy tried to ignore the warmth that spread from the simple contact. "Know what?"

"C'mon, Luce. You're one of the smartest people I know. You're telling me you can't figure out what this is about?"

She looked away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do," Natsu said, his features growing soft. His hold on her wrist was gentle as he pulled her closer to him. "I don't wanna keep beatin' around the bush with you."

"N-Natsu," Lucy whispered, her heart threatening to beat out her chest. "W-What are you…"

The boy slowly leaned forward, his breath fanning her face. Her mind was short circuiting, unable to comprehend what was going on until his lips brushed against hers. At first, she was unable to move. All she could think about was how surprisingly soft his lips were. Then, she felt him begin to pull away. Her arms moved on their own, wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer to her, deepening the kiss.

As the two pulled away, they gazed into each other's eyes. Both of their faces were flushed with heat, their lips swelled from the passionate kiss.

Hearing whispers, Lucy remembered that they were in public. Squealing, she pushed Natsu away and covered her mortified face. She never imagined her first kiss would've been in front of a group of strangers. Instead of being offended, Natsu only laughed.

"What're you getting so embarrassed for?" he teased.

"It's embarrassing kissing in front of people!" Lucy replied, finally moving her hands away from her face so that she could glare at him. "And don't think that k-kissing me is going to make me forget that you ruined book club!"

"Shit," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head. "Look, I'm sorry about that, okay? Gray was being an asshole, telling me that you and Freed might've been on a date and that you two coulda been hitting it off. I guess I got kinda jealous since I kinda like you."

"You kinda like me?"

"I like you a lot, okay? Kinda more than like, actually…"

Lucy's heart skipped a beat. "W-Well, that doesn't mean that you can barge in on book club."

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, Lucy."

"It's okay. I'll forgive you this time since I sorta kinda like you too."

Natsu's eyes widened. He ducked his face in his scarf. "You kinda like me too?"

"Well, more than like."

The two looked away from each other, their hearts beating miles per second. Finally, their feelings for each other were out in the open. They didn't know what life had in store for them now, but they were eager, albeit a bit nervous, to find out.

Lucy, feeling the need to break the silence, asked, "Why Freed though?"

"What do you mean?" Natsu asked.

"Freed? You're telling me you don't know?"

"Don't know what?"

"Natsu, Freed is gay. How did you not know that? The only person I can think of who makes their love more apparent than Juvia is Freed."

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"Hello, Freed is in love with Laxus!"

Natsu's jaw dropped to the ground. "Wait, what!?"

"Duh! That's why it's so silly you got jealous over Freed!"

Natsu thought back to all the interactions he witnessed between Freed and Laxus. It hit him like a brick.

"Holy shit, how did I not notice?"

"Because you're dense," Lucy teased with a grin.

"Oi, I don't wanna hear that from you! Do you know how long I've been flirting with you and it took you this long to figure it out? Actually, you didn't even figure it out! I kissed you!"

"Since when is breaking into my apartment and making a mess flirting!?"

"Since forever!"

And just like that, their nerves had calmed. They were back to their usual selves, bickering playfully and having fun. They were friends first, and always would be. Only now, they'd be even closer.

"Should we get revenge on Gray?" Lucy suggested, sliding her hand into Natsu's.

"Hell yeah! Cana, too!" Natsu replied.

As they headed back to the guild, carefully concocting a plan for revenge, they couldn't help but think about how it was thanks to Gray and Cana's prank that they were being open with each other. And it wasn't just them either. Gajeel and Levy, Freed and Laxus. All of their relationships were going to change for the better after today.

[sodalitefully]

Santa Slash is coming to town...

This fic is the Christmas-themed spiritual successor to my Easter Bunny AU.  Special thanks to @slashscowboyboots for supporting all my holiday nonsense! 

Four snapshots from Slash’s Christmas prep marathon through the years:

🎄🎄🎄🎄

Jingle bells.  

Fucking jingle bells.

There were FIFTEEN of them on the stupid-fucking-candy-colored costume he had to wear at this godforsaken excuse for a seasonal job.  “Earn some extra cash,” they said.  “It’s easy, you barely have to do anything,” they said.  "You'll be perfect, you already look the part!" they said.  

"They are about to find a size-ten jingle-toed bootie up their ass,” Axl said – to himself, as he rushed into the storage room turned "dressing room" and buttoned up his itchy red and green vest with one hand while sipping an Orange Julius from the food court with the other.  

“Hey, Axl! You’re barely late today, awesome!”

And then there was this weirdo.

Axl could not for the life of him explain why a shopping mall in Indiana elected to hire a skinny dude in his 20s with a dark complexion and a nose ring to portray Saint Nick himself, but whatever the reason, Axl was stuck working with this fruitcake until Christmas Day.  Sure Slash was nice enough (oh yeah, and his name was Slash, or at least that's how he introduced himself without offering any explanation or even a last name), but he was way too enthusiastic about getting paid minimum wage to let strange kids sit in his lap at a grimy old shopping mall.

Uh, not in a weird way, Slash was good with the kids, really.  But sometimes... it seemed like he was taking his role a little too seriously.  

"How come you don't have a beard?" the first customer of Axl's shift, a little girl in a Tweety bird sweater and blonde pigtails, asked suspiciously.

"That's a good question,” Slash said, scratching at his bare chin. The neck of his Motörhead Beyond the Threshold of Pain Tour T-shirt was visible over the faux fur collar of the Santa costume, and his shiny black boots clearly came from a military surplus store. “I get asked that a lot but the truth is, it just isn't a flattering look, trust me.  I tried it once, and the elves could barely look at me in the eye." To Axl’s incredulity, the girl actually accepted that answer.  "Now tell me, what would you like for Christmas this year, sweetheart?"

As usual, Axl tuned out at this point.  Fake a smile for the overprotective parents, take the painfully awkward commemorative photograph, try not to look like he would rather die than hear Slash try to gently explain that Santa will probably not be delivering a pony this year one more damn time, rinse and repeat – until about an hour later, when the unthinkable happened.

The less said about about the incident, the better.  Suffice to say, one of the darling angels tossed his Christmas cookies, and some of the resulting mess wound up soaking into the front of Axl’s elf costume.  As if he needed another reason to hate his job; this was just adding insult on top of injury (that is, the injury to Axl’s pride as a result of being forced to wear the most ridiculous-looking costume he’s ever had the misfortune of laying eyes on). 

“That’s it. I quit.”  He grabbed the elf cap off his head and slammed it on the ground, then stormed through the exit gate past the sign wishing customers a "Holly Jolly Holiday Season," the bells on his costume ringing merrily as he stomped his feet.

“Hey, wait!”

“No,” Axl growled, but he did turn around to look back at Slash, still sitting in the plastic candy-cane throne unbothered by the mess or the sniffling child now mostly placated by a peppermint candy.  "What."  

Slash offered him a bright, beguiling smile.

"What do you want for Christmas, Axl?" 

-----

Nothing said "holiday cheer" like wandering the tinsel-adorned labyrinth that was a Walmart superstore a week before Christmas, with Paul McCartney's "Wonderful Christmastime" echoing through the tinny PA system and surrounded by other last-minute vultures hopelessly scavenging the picked-over aisles.  

In Izzy's defense, he actually finished all his shopping early this year, for once.  But then his two little brothers begged him to drive them around town to find the perfect gift for a girl at school that they apparently both had a crush on, and like a fool he agreed. 

He was regretting it now.  Anything would be better than subjecting himself to nearly an hour of top-40 Christmas music.  The jingle bells were jingling, the carolers were caroling, the B-list pop stars were spitting out god-awful covers of Christmas classics, and don’t even get him started on the commercials. 

He wasn't about to walk around in public with his fingers shoved in his ears (at least, he wasn't that desperate yet), but he did squeeze his eyes shut and pinch the bridge of his nose, trying to force himself to relax.  Just take deep breaths and think of The Rolling Stones... 

"Hey, uh, you doing okay?"

Izzy opened his eyes reluctantly.  In front of him was a young man wearing a concerned expression and a Santa hat, stuffed onto a massive pile of dark curls.  

"I'm fine.  Just finding out if it's possible to die from overexposure to Christmas music."

"Ahhh."  The man nodded in understanding.  "It's not, unfortunately.  I've tested it, trust me."

"Do you work here or something?" Izzy asked.  A leather jacket and ripped jeans didn't look like an employee uniform, but his hat matched the store decor and he didn't have a cart or shopping basket.  

"No, I'm actually a seasonal distributor.  Just checking in to make sure everything's in place before that last holiday rush, you know? Shit always gets crazy at the last minute."

"Tell me about it," Izzy responded, as if he knew a thing about marketing as a cynical 16-year-old.  But he had first-hand experience with last-minute crises, and as if to prove it, his brothers came running up to him at that moment.

"Jeff!  We can't find anything good, what should we do?"

"What's the problem?" the stranger in a Santa hat asked, looking genuinely concerned.  

"We don't know what present to get for a girl at school," the boys explained.

"Hmm..." He tapped at his chin.  "Why don't you just – oh wait, you're underage.  Well, how about you bake her some cookies or something?  That's what everyone does for me and I have no complaints."

Desperate to remove himself from this musical hell, Izzy jumped on the idea.  "Yeah, you could do sugar cookies!  And decorate them like horses, she likes horses right?” The boys had only mentioned that a dozen times; Izzy was starting to wonder if this girl even had any other personality traits.  

To his relief, a spark lit up in his brothers' eyes.  Cookies were a perfect idea, and suddenly they were dragging him away to look at cookie cutters and sprinkles.

Izzy turned around to shoot the helpful stranger a grateful look, but when he looked back, the man had disappeared with no trace, leaving not even a furry white pompom behind.

-----

Slash glanced out the window and grimaced – it was cold as a witch’s big bouncy tit outside, nothing but snow and ice as far as the eye could see. He pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders and took another swig of hot Irish coffee.   Damn the North Pole, there was a reason he took his summer vacations in Malibu.

But despite the miserable work conditions, Slash was nothing if not dedicated to his job.  In front of him was a sack overflowing not with toys but with the most recent letters to Santa, straight from the North Pole's post office.  With Christmas only a few days away, his daunting task was to go through the whole mountain of letters as quickly as possibly in order to take their special requests into consideration before it was time to start loading up the sleigh.  

Well, there was no time like the present to get started.  Slash stretched his back and got comfortable in his coziest armchair (by throwing his legs over one armrest and slouching until his head rested on the other), absentmindedly tapping the end of his peppermint stick on the edge of an ashtray.  He grimaced when he brought the stick back to his lips and realized his mistake. 

With a sigh, he dropped the peppermint stick back in the ashtray already full of cigarette butts and ruined candies, and unfolded the first letter.  In barely legible green marker, the message read: 

Dear Santa Claus,

My name is Steven and I'm 5 years old.  Please give me a skateboard for Christmas.  My brother has one and he won't let me borrow it to learn tricks.

Hmmm.  Five years old was a little young for a skateboard.  Knowing Steven, he'd probably knock his teeth out by New Year's...

...Slash shrugged.  Why not?  All things considered, he would have killed for a skateboard when he was five, so who was he to say no?

-----

Duff was seven years old when his older brothers cornered him in the backyard and gleefully informed him that Santa Claus was a fraud.  It was all a lie made up by parents to convince their children to behave during the year, they explained, and the toys were made on factory lines not by magical elves.  Their mother gave them a hell of a scolding afterwards but it was too late, the deed could not be undone. 

He tried to play it cool, but the truth was, Duff was very distraught as Christmas Eve inched closer.  Could his siblings be right?  He didn't want to believe it, but if he was being honest with himself, he'd suspected as much for some time.  He braced himself to accept the hard truth come Christmas Eve – but only if he was presented with definitive proof.

When the fateful night finally came, Duff and two of his brothers laid out their sleeping bags behind the couch, where they'd be hidden from view if anyone tried to approach the Christmas tree.  They all swore not to fall asleep, not even for a second until Christmas morning... And it wasn't until his brother started snoring that Duff realized he was the only one still awake and silently anticipating the moment of truth.  

It was imperative, of course, that he stayed hidden and didn't make a sound, or else risk giving their plot away.  But... it was past midnight, dinner was hours ago and Duff's empty stomach was starting to distract him from the task at hand.  He couldn't stop thinking about all the food he would get to eat with his family on Christmas Day: the glazed ham, mashed potatoes, apple pie and Christmas cookies... 

In the dim light, Duff could just barely make out the plate of cookies for Santa, waiting in front of the tree.  The cookies were still there untouched, all six of them... Surely no one would notice if Duff ate just one?  

He tiptoed over his sleeping siblings, as silent as the snow falling outside, making his way around the sofa to the plate on the coffee table.  But just as he reached out to pluck a gingerbread man from the assortment, he saw a shadow of movement out of the corner of his eye.  There, beside the Christmas tree in the flickering glow of multicolored string lights, was a mysterious figure in a fur-lined coat and a red cap.

Duff stared at the intruder, slack-jawed.  The cookie clattered back onto the dish, and at the noise the stranger whirled around to face him. 

"Duff!  What are you doing still awake?" he demanded.  Duff took a breath to answer – or more likely to ask how the man knew his name – but before he could, the man peered over the couch, narrowed his eyes and frowned.  "Oh I see what this is. You thought you would catch your parents pretending to be me!" he accused.  "Well, here's the real truth: adults are always wrong and you should never do what they say!" 

The man – could he really be Santa Claus? – he planted his leather-gloved hands on his hips as he scolded Duff.  "And don't even get me started on teenagers..." he griped, casting a stare over Duff's shoulder where his older brother's leg was sticking out from behind the couch, tangled in a blanket.  

Tears started to well up in Duff's eyes.

"Please still give them Christmas presents!  I know they said they don't believe in you, but they've been good, I promise!" he begged.  Santa's expression softened.

"Aw, I know, kid.  I promise they'll still get their presents, alright?  Let me just finish up here and then maybe you can help me out with those cookies, sound good?"

Placated, Duff sniffled and nodded, scrubbing his eyes with his sleeve. He hopped onto the sofa, swinging his feet and watching with awe as Santa pulled beautifully wrapped gifts out of seemingly nowhere and stacked them around the tree, one after another until all eight of the McKagan children were represented. He took a step back to take in his handiwork, made a few minor adjustments, then turned back to Duff: “Voila! That’s the magic of Christmas. Now pass me that plate, would you?”

Santa sat down next to Duff and propped his boots up on the coffee table. When Duff held out the plate of cookies, he selected one decorated to look like Santa Claus, white beard and all, and promptly bit its head off. 

“I love my job, but delivering presents is exhausting,” he sighed, accepting a glass of milk from Duff’s outstretched hand. “I’ve already covered Asia, Africa, Europe, and most of the Americas, so I’d say I’m due for a break.  Cheers, Duff.” He held up his glass and Duff tapped it with his half-eaten cookie. 

“To a merry Christmas and a happy New Year!”

🎄🎄🎄🎄

[asian-hero]

Emergency request May i ask hdcs momo realising that her femcrush was a child abused by her father(verbally and physically)during a girl's night where reader says that she does not want to have children (because she is afraid to be like her parents). she has a crush on momo but is afraid of a relationship because she thinks that she risks to mistreat her as her father did with her mother. it's actual questions i can't stop asking myself so ... if you're unconfortable just ignore it. thank you.

A/N: Even though I may not know you, the fact that you question yourself on whether or not you would be a bad parent/partner to someone is proof enough that you would never be the way your parent was. It’s understandable that you’d be scared that you may end up hurting the ones you care about most, but please remember that your parents aren’t a reflection of you, and you can grow and develop and be your own person in the world, one that can bring warmth and kindness to everyone around you, please remember that ❤️

It was rather rare that you and the rest of the 1-A girls would have a girl’s night all to yourselves

I say this because, whenever you all try to have one, one of the boys will barge in and demand they be apart of it, and that they feel left out. Pretty soon after, the entirety of 1-A is sitting out in the common area, as you all had to migrate out of whatever dorm room you were in due to the sheer amount of growth your group had

Finally, though, the seven of you are finally able to have a girl’s night without the interruption from any of your other classmates. It was a nice way to just unwind with one another and talk about all the things that have stressed you out, made you laugh, and anything that’s happened to you during the day

If you were completely being honest with yourself, you were mainly excited for these nights with just the girls because you could hang out with Momo without anyone questioning your motives

This was a great excuse for you to hang out with her, but not have to deal with all of the unwanted emotions that would occur if it were just the two of you

As much as you liked her, you felt that she could do so much better than you, so you never wanted to risk anything, and, in the end, you sort of ended up avoiding her. So, these girl’s nights gave you the perfect opportunity to be near her without having to deal with the consequences of it after

While you’re busy being in a heated discussion with Ochako about what flavor of mochi is the best, you don’t notice a certain pony-tailed girl looking your way

It was fairly obvious to everyone else, or at least to all of the girls, that Momo had the biggest crush on you. She would stare at you when she thought no one else was watching, and would just admire your beauty. As cliche as it sounds, she found that you were most beautiful to her when you were in your natural state. Whenever you were talking to your friends, with the biggest grin on your face as you laughed at one of their jokes, she’d find herself being unable to breathe. She could honestly watch you for hours and never be bored of it

Of course, she never really acted on her feelings, mainly because she felt that you were uncomfortable around her. Whenever you two were alone, you refused to look at her, and you’d only talk to her when she asked a question, and even then you’d only answer her in short tidbits. While it hurt her feelings, Momo couldn’t find it in herself to confront you about it. Perhaps it was because she was scared of the answer that would come, or maybe it was the fear that you wouldn’t answer her at all, and then she’d just be standing there all by herself

So, she resigned herself to just watching you from afar, taking happiness from seeing you look so happy with the others. After all, she knew that she’d be able to hang around you during the few girl’s nights you all had, so she’d hold out until then

After a while of talking about your school work, how annoying a certain purple haired boy was, and how you all feel you’ve progressed with your quirks, you had landed on the topic of the future: namely, about your future families

Mina was the first to talk about her future, saying that she wanted to find someone who was strong, kind, and funny. She also went further into her future life, saying that she wanted a wedding by the beach, and wanted to wear a pinkish wedding dress. After her future wedding, she’d want to start having kids immediately, stating that she wanted at least two little ones

After her came Toru, then Ochako, then Asui. Even Jirou had participated in the conversation, albeit a bit reluctantly. Eventually the conversation had found its way to you, and you couldn’t help but feel self conscious, wanting nothing more than to just fold in on yourself to escape the questioning looks of your friends

You took in a shaky breath, attempting to calm your nerves before saying that you weren’t sure you wanted any kids, much less a relationship. Immediately, as you’d predicted, you were bombarded with questions of “why?” and “are you sure you want to shut yourself in like that?”

While you already predicted that they’d react like that, it still didn’t make you feel any better to be proven right

You merely shrug your shoulders, trying to play into the nonchalant role, saying that you just weren’t really interested in having kids, and that really, you’d be doing your imaginary kids a favor, as if they’d been real, you weren't sure that you’d be the best parent

Once again, you were silenced by the other girls telling you that you’d be a great mom, and that anyone would be lucky to have you, and while it felt great hearing that, you couldn’t really imagine a life like that for yourself

As you felt yourself spiraling into dark thoughts about yourself, it was Momo who saved you. She put herself in front of you, scolding the others for pressing the subject when you were clearly uncomfortable.

While the others were apologizing profusely after realizing how uncomfortable you were, Momo was taking you to her own dorm room, telling the others that you’d both be back soon

In all honesty, you really wanted to tell the others that it was fine, and that you were just “overreacting,” but the words wouldn’t come out of your mouth

Once the two of you reached her dorm, she pulled you onto her bed, sitting across from you, waiting for you to say something. After a few more seconds of silence, and the realization that you weren’t going to speak, she sighed, leaning in closer to brush the hair away from your face

“You know, if there’s something bothering you, you can always tell me,” She started, before pulling her hands away, “I won't tell anyone.”

With just those few words, you felt everything pouring out of your mouth: about your childhood and how your father had been abusive in every sense of the word, how all those years of torture had led you to wanting to be a hero in the first place, as you didn’t want anyone else to live like that, and how those years had damaged how you saw yourself and the world, and that you didn’t feel like you deserved to be happy

She doesn’t interrupt you as you stumble your way through your sentences. Instead, she inches ever so closer, and pretty soon she’s enveloping you in a tight hug, holding your head against her chest

Tears that you didn’t know were there started to dampen her shirt, and you try to push yourself away, with a meek attempt at an apology, but she refuses to let you go, only moving back slightly to stare directly into your eyes

“I’m sorry that you had to deal with all of that by yourself. You didn’t deserve any of what your father did to you, and I promise you that you’re more than deserving of all the good things in life. Please don't ever say that you’re less than, because I can assure you, if there was anyone in the entire world who deserves kindness and love and warmth, it’d be you”

She pulls you into her chest again, this time burying her face into your hair, trying to conceal the tears that were beginning to form in her eyes. With a shaky voice, she speaks again:

“I mean, it’s not like you’re hard to love, either. I know that all the girls love you, and so do the boys, even Bakugou,” She laughs, rubbing her cheek against your head, “Though he’d try to deny it.”

Her voice grows softer, almost as if she weren’t sure of herself, “I love you too, you know.”

You lift your head up, a curious look on your face. Even though your mind is filled with such opposing emotions, and your self doubt hadn’t gone away, you couldn't help but ask:

“As a friend?”

She sighs once more, shaking her head. That’s all the signal you need to realize one thing: somehow, Momo had fallen for you. Despite you pushing her away, not talking to her, she’d still found herself growing to love you. Even though you never once showed much of an interest in even being her friend, she loved you nonetheless

It was a thought that both excited you and terrified you. So, you did the only thing that came to mind: deflect. Scoffing, you turned your head to the side, not wanting to look her in the eye

“You can’t be serious,”

She tilted her head, a saddened look crossing her features, “Would it truly be that bad if I loved you?”

When you didn’t respond, she gently cupped your cheek, forcing you to look at her

“I know it’s hard for you, especially with all that you’ve told me, but I know that you aren’t like that,” She squished your cheek, “You aren’t your father, and neither am I. So, will you please give me a chance? Let me prove to you that love isn't as scary as it seems to be”

It was hard to deny her when she gave you such a cute expression. Still, you frowned, burying your head into her shoulder. “I’m not sure if I know how to love,”

She smiled, rubbing your back. “Don’t worry about that, I’m more than willing to wait for you,”

As the two of you sat there, finding comfort in one another’s arms, you couldn’t help the small warmth growing in the pit of your stomach. What was it? You weren’t really sure. Did it scare you? Of course it did, but you knew that, with Momo, you’d be safe

When the next morning came rolling around, the rest of the girls had checked to see if the two of you were okay, and instead of finding the worst, they found the two of you snuggled up in her bed, with your head resting upon her chest, and her arms wrapped around you protectively, as if trying to shield you from the world

The girls shut the door lightly, and they refused to let anyone near the two of you for the rest of the day

[regrettablewritings]

Preferences: Guilty Pleasures

Characters: Okoye, Lucifer Morningstar, Dewey Finn, Peter B. Parker, Ahkmenrah

Okoye

Okoye is straightforward and stony upon first impressions. And, admittedly, even afterward. The only real difference is that, if one gets to know her better, they might find shock in the fact that in spite of her appearance, she Dora leader actually likes sweets. However, it’s not sweet things in general that Okoye feels guilty for enjoying: It’s Starbucks.

Starbucks is the antithesis of everything Okoye is associated with: Supremely un-Wakandan, a chain establishment, and overall just not worth the absurd cost. Not to mention superbly unhealthy when compared to the rest of a fighter’s typical diet. But yet you can bet that every time she needs to go out of the country or off-continent, there’s an invasive shout for joy at the possibility that she might be able to get her hands on a Frappucino (followed by an internal scolding).

She can’t even explain exactly why she likes it; there are plenty of good, even healthier sweet things back in Wakanda -- heck, back anywhere else!

But it’s a bit like when someone craves the cheap taste of school pizza over a legit pie cooked in a stone hearth: She just loves the sugary sweetness, the application of whipped cream to an already tooth-rottingly saccharine icy drink, the addition of chocolate. But Bast, she also hates it. But ever since T’Challa practically shoved a grande cup of caramel frappucino into her hands, she hasn’t felt entirely the same.

Against her better judgement, she’s more or less unintentionally tried 45% of the menu drink-wise. She doesn’t particularly care much for the food part of the establishment, though if she should ever find herself in one during the fall, she might indulge in a chunky slice of pumpkin bread under the conviction that it’s healthy enough for being gourd-related. Never mind that it’s just a cinnamon mixture with more sugar than actual pumpkin-derived anything.

Really, of all those mentioned on this list, Okoye is the one who probably feels the most disappointed in herself whenever she indulges in her guilty pleasure: It’s a betrayal to her patriotism, to her dignity, and to her attempts to eat healthy. But damn, if this type of betrayal doesn’t taste so addicting . . .

Lucifer Morningstar

The thing about Lucifer is that it’s actually a bit hard for him to feel any regrets over liking anything; he’s the Devil, after all, so his whole thing is about embracing the things that make you feel good. And even besides that, he’s mostly managed to skate by in his time on Earth by categorizing things as Stuff He Likes, Stuff He Tolerates, Stuff He Doesn’t Bother With, and Stuff Humans Seem to Enjoy But He Doesn’t Quite Get. It’s a tad restricted of a system but you can’t argue with results.

However, just because something is difficult doesn’t mean that it’s impossible. The Devil can, in fact, recognize absurdity in liking certain things. Hence why, to a point, he’s fallen prey to his own bizarre pleasures: The Devil has guilty pleasures, and it’s in stupid YouTube videos, Vine, and TikTok.

After he finally drank the Kool-Aid and got himself a smart phone, it was only a matter of time before Lucifer fell down the rabbit hole that is YouTube prank videos and strange uploads about nonsense and animal humor. It was also only a matter of time before he found himself stumbling into Vine compilations. The Celestial is terrifically mystified by the creative power of humans, managing to tell entire stories and peak comedy in only a span of seven seconds. But he’s also quite loathe to have realized it’s been long defunct by the time he’s discovered it.

He’s even more loathe to find himself making references in his daily life: He has actually quietly blurted out, “I sure hope it does” in response to seeing a Road Work Ahead sign, causing Chloe some confusion (and Lucifer lots of embarrassment). He has referred to a culprit as “Jared, Age 19″. Since discovering Vine, there has been at least one night wherein he and a bed mate were sitting there with barbecue sauce on his tiddies, but that was by sheer coincidence.

But eventually the Vine compilation well dried up, and the inevitable transfer over to TikTok happened. And Luci honestly doesn’t know what to make of TikTok. He would describe it as Vine’s Molly-addicted cousin based on its obsession with dancing, but the dances are so stationary that even that doesn’t seem quite right. The videos on the platform are also much more . . . bizarre. And some of them admittedly trigger a fight-or-flight response in him, to which he always chooses the third option of freezing if only so he can keep watching the train wreck unfold before his eyes.

The trouble with TikTok, he’ll admit to himself, is that it’s not as easy to find iconic content the same way he could with Vine. However, this isn’t to say that he hasn’t found anything worth watching over and over and over again . . .

(Let’s just say the “Wolf Pack Compilation” lives in his head rent-free, and he’s both too amused by it and too overwhelmed by its vibe to try and evict it.)

Dewey Finn

Dewey is . . . a special case. Given that he associates messy living and indulging in one’s pleasure a part of the rocker lifestyle, he’s generally quick to embrace whatever makes him happy. He’s very upfront about his interests and is arguably almost incapable of feeling shame. But it’s in there: Deep down. No, not in himself -- in his Spotify. Specifically, a Spotify account made on an email he never uses because it was made specifically to create this separate, uber secret playlist.

One marked “Actual Musical Bops.”

Dewey hates musicals: They’re cheesy, uninspired, gaudy, ridiculous, totally aimed at chicks with weird fantasies that he could never aspire to, and the music is just overall unimpressive. And yet, somehow, against his music elitist nature, a handful have managed to slip through the cracks. At the very least, a handful of numbers have clawed their way past his defenses and into his ear, where they now live rent-free.

In spite of his best efforts, the problems are that he’s a New Yorker, so it’s inevitable that he hears a song or two; and also that, as an instructor (to wealthy New York tweens whose families can afford frequent tripes to the Great White Way, no less), he’s definitely going to wind up hearing about some shows and their stand-out numbers: Against his will, he knows the lyrics to “My Shot”; he has cried in the secrecy of his apartment to “When I Grow Up”; in the never-necessary reason he needs to remember how many minutes there are in a year, he sings it inside his head; hell, he’s even found himself trying to figure out the electric guitar riff from “The Phantom of the Opera” during his down time.

What’s all the more embarrassing is that, given how he presents himself as a music elitist, there’s just no way he can come back from this if anyone were to know. He has to catch himself when he finds himself humming “Johanna” in the teacher’s lounge. He scowls at himself when he can’t sleep and gives in and starts playing “No One is Alone.” He wants to kick his thick ass every time he realizes he’s excited to have stumbled across a “slime tutorial” on YouTube, this one with better quality than the last. The reason he actually put a password on his phone wasn’t out of privacy like a sensible person would, but out of a need to make sure that no one ever found out that he had downloaded the entire Beetlejuice soundtrack, including jankily-recorded songs that never made it to the official cast recording for whatever reason!

And should anyone ever find out about any of this, Dewey has a plan: “Oh, I’m doing research. I’m studying these songs so I can give the kids a lesson on what not to do as actually competent musicians.”

But the lesson would never actually come. Mainly because he keeps prolonging his “research” . . .

He’s also developed a bit of a soft spot for My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic due to some students gushing about it, but he would rather sooner die than ever be associated with the term “brony.”

Peter B. Parker

Peter is at a point where he’s too tired to really care about the idea of guilty pleasures. The way he sees it, there are bigger priorities at stake than worrying about someone finding out about your love of some hokey activity or food or form of entertainment.

Besides, he’s a New Yorker: There’s way weirder stuff for people to just not pay any real attention to. Hence why he thinks nothing of his bizarre eating habits. And no, this isn’t referring to his disastrous appetite: This is about his tendency to eat food with his hands. Foods that, well, he really should probably utilize eating utensils for.

To be fair, this habit has always existed in him in some form or another, especially since, as Spider-Man, he often needs to eat food on the go. But during the time he spent living the life of a depressed bachelor, it came out in full force. On the rare occasion he wasn’t eating a food that deserved to be eaten by hand, he often found himself loathing the idea of doing the dishes afterward. There would be days he’d feel only slightly less depressed; enough to make a box of Kraft Mac n Cheese in the pot, but not enough to avoid cutting out the middle man.

He’s thankful the craptastic apartment wasn’t also see-through because if it were, he’s positive his neighbors would’ve thought they were bearing witness to a man’s breakdown as he wept into a pot of macaroni and cheese, his hand full of the stuff, while wearing a Spider-Man costume. (And, to be fair, they actually would be.)

In addition to this, there were also those nights where he would be prepared to actually tuck in to a plate of spaghetti, only for some crime going on elsewhere in the city to drag him away. By the time he’d return, the plate would’ve been cold and his energy too depleted to want to even dream about cleaning more than he already had to.

The great news is that he’s thankfully done a 180, now able and willing (if begrudgingly) to clean up after himself. But bad news is that this feral man will still eat a fully-loaded baked potato like an apple. In a park. In front of women and children. He’s just too tired to care anymore. He’s aware of the guilt in this as a concept, but he’s also aware that he needs to take whatever happiness he can get out of whatever he does. And if that means eating everything by hand, then so be it!

Ahkmenrah

Funnily enough, Ahkmenrah doesn’t seem to experience much of any shame for enjoying the things most might feel the need to hide: He’s constantly curious and has missed out on a lot over the centuries, so why should he feel bad for wanting to indulge in them? Celebrity gossip is just a more fun version of the palace gossip he’d grown up hearing as a boy; reality TV is like watching a play, but with much more fights, less deaths, and more faulty romances; and sloppy meatball subs are like a feast for a man of his time!

Besides, he’s a king: Kings shouldn’t have to feel embarrassment over what the common folk might think.

And yet . . . It took some time, but eventually Ahkmenrah did experience it: Guilt in his pleasures.

He couldn’t even recall where it had all started. Maybe he was searching for more content to swallow after the most recent season of his new favorite show had ended? Whatever the case, he wound up biting off more than he could chew when he stumbled upon . . . fanfiction.

The adorable yet sad thing is that he didn’t even think anything of it at first. It wasn’t until he brought up a ship he’d invested his last few nights awake exploring on the computer: Nobody knew what the crap he was talking about, so of course he felt the need to explain it. But the more he talked, the more perplexed his friends looked. And the more he could feel his cheeks and ears burn.

Oh, he thought. Is this . . . embarrassment? Is that what this feels like? Oh, this is just foul.

Thankfully, nobody pressured him to keep talking about it, but the poor king sure as heck didn’t feel much of a desire to talk any further about it. But he needed to talk to somebody about his newly acquired “feels” as those online were calling them.

Joining fanfiction-oriented sites was the next obvious step, of course, but he’s experienced mixed feelings about it: On one hand, it’s nice to talk with people who share similar views and excitement about a fictional couple. But on the other, the digital wars that have broken out both disturb him and bring out the worst in him.

Like, of course there are bigger things to deal with than whether or not So-So is better off with Him-Ham, but if you truly think that Blah-Blah and Himhaw are a healthy relationship, then you can go do a service and bury yourself in the desert sands to provide substance to the hungry beetles with your flesh --

Suffice to say, a lot of the guilt in this pleasure seems to come from the fact that Ahk can get a little too emotionally invested if the work is really good. He tries to limit his interactions to commenting and praising certain works, and encouraging content creators. However, he’s also contemplated contributing his own pieces of fiction to the fandom . . .

[the--highlanders]

touch on a scar.

for @ettelwenailinon​.

on ao3.

“Jamie?”

The sound of his name being spoken washed over him without sinking in, half-enveloped by sleep and half-deafened by his headphones as he was. “Mm?” he mumbled, turning his head against the pillow.

“Jamie.”

This time, it was accompanied by a flash of pressure on his wrist. Blinking as he struggled to keep his eyes open, he pushed himself up onto his elbows to squint over at the Doctor. “What?”

The Doctor simply gazed back at him for a moment, lips pursed as if in polite surprise at Jamie’s clumsy sleepiness. A bold look, Jamie thought, coming from someone who was dressed in the gaudiest pyjamas he could imagine. If those stars were any brighter, they would surely have been glowing in the dark. “Ah – can you turn your music down a little, please?” he asked after a moment. “I can hear it from over here.”

Not that he was particularly far away. But Jamie mumbled out a short “sorry,” fumbling with the wee gadget on his bedside table until he found the volume buttons. “There,” he added awkwardly.

“Thank you.” The Doctor lifted his hand to flick over a page in his book – but when it fell back onto the blankets, his fingers sought out Jamie’s wrist again, this time cradling it more delicately. “Though I admit, it did make reading about thermokinetic venting systems more interesting.”

“Oh, aye.” Picking up the gadget again, Jamie frowned down at its little screen. He had almost forgotten he was listening to anything at all, being caught as he had been between sleeping and wakefulness. Funny, he thought, how something so fast and energetic could put him to sleep so peacefully. But it was a welcome change, some nights, to sleep calmly with the music in his ears, and the familiar rustle of the Doctor beside him. Best not to question it too much. And it was a good thing that the Doctor had found him those wireless headphones, or he would have been scolding him for risking getting tangled in wires as he slept.

He let the song run its course, finishing on a great crescendo of drums and pipes and fiddles. Had he recognised a tune, in the middle of the set? Perhaps, from a long time ago, and played very differently here. But his interest in the music was waning now, his attention slipping away to something else, and he set the gadget aside, taking off the headphones and shaking out his hair.

The Doctor’s book sat open and untouched in his lap, and he was still grasping at Jamie’s wrist, his thumb stroking over the point where the bones stuck out.

“Ye like that spot,” Jamie murmured.

“Mm?”

“Just -” Twisting over, Jamie tapped at the Doctor’s fingers with his other hand. “There. Ye like it.”

“Do I, now.” It was not a question. “Well, I suppose – it’s an interesting spot.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, I think it is. For instance...” Turning over his hand, the Doctor ran one finger along the underside of his wrist. His touch was feather-light, almost tickling him as it went, and the feeling ran a shiver up Jamie’s spine. “Here, for instance.” Jamie lifted his head further from the pillow to crane his neck down at where he was pointing, and the Doctor tilted his wrist from side to side. As it moved, the light caught on a small, silver curve in his skin, like the very end of a waning moon. “What’s that?”

He sounded so sincerely interested in it, like the tiny scar could hold its own against planets and stars and galaxies as a contender for his attention, and Jamie could not help but scoff a little. “Och, it’s silly,” he said. “Just an old thing, that’s all.”

“I’d like to know.”

Jamie shrugged. “Caught myself on a sickle, that’s all. Gettin’ the harvest in. I was – och, I don’t know. Eight? Nine? Just foolin’ around, really.”

“Ah.”

His hands were covered in little nicks and scratches like that, he thought, holding his free hand up to the light. Marks from farm tools and hunting knives and one imprint left by the teeth of a very cross pony. He grinned, remembering his shock when its snapping mouth had closed around his hand as it fought back against taking the bit. But, all things considered, it was hardly an entertaining story to tell someone else. Was the Doctor as interested in all his scars as he was in the one on his wrist? Most of them were half-faded with age, though the skin over them was still a little shiny, their spiky lines joining the dots between pores. He could remember getting a good number of them, and none of them told of anything but an ordinary life. Did the Doctor imagine them to be from some great adventure, or perhaps some tragic battle?

But he was talking again, sounding no less enthralled. “A sickle,” he murmured, like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. “Good year, that year?”

It took Jamie a moment to realise he was still talking about that harvest, so long ago. He scrunched up his face with the effort of recalling it. “It was alright, I think,” he said at last, shrugging. Quite why the Doctor was so interested, he could not fathom. “We had worse.”

“Mm.” Raising his hand a little more, the Doctor ran the tip of one forefinger over the spot. “You humans are so charming. Keeping records of things on your skin like that.”

“If ye say so.” Jamie was doubtful, but he was loathe to pull him out of whatever fascination he had found himself in. It was true that injuries never quite seemed to stick to the Doctor, the wounds simply fading away to leave his skin as fresh and unblemished as ever. Perhaps, to him, scars really were interesting. And it was oddly relaxing, anyway, lying there with the Doctor’s fingers tracing soft little lines on his wrist. Closing his eyes again, he rolled over until his forehead met with the Doctor’s shoulder. He liked the Doctor’s pyjamas better with his eyes closed, he decided as he rubbed his forehead against the soft fabric.

“You know -” The Doctor lifted his hand further, bringing it up high enough to press his mouth against his palm, then the heel of his hand, then the spot on the underside of his wrist where his veins were darkest against his skin. They were not quite kisses, more affectionate pushes, like a cat knocking its head against him. “I was hoping you might tell me about some of your other scars.” His hand was flipped over. Another press, this time against his knuckles. “But I don’t suppose you’re awake enough for that, are you?”

Maybe he really did think there were exciting stories behind them all. “I’m no’ asleep,” Jamie mumbled. “But it’s no’ very interesting.”

“It would be interesting to me.”

“More interestin’ than your thermo...” Waving his hand, Jamie struggled to remember the rest of what the Doctor had said. But his mind was too clouded over by tiredness and tenderness, and he simply flicked the fingers on his held hand instead. “Thingies?”

The Doctor laughed, a soft huff breathed out against his skin. “Oh, far more interesting.”

“If ye say so.” Edging himself off the pillow until he was sat a little more upright, Jamie leaned his head over to rest it against the Doctor’s shoulder properly. It was a silly thing to be flattered by, he thought – but there was a kind of comfortable warmth pooling in his stomach at the anticipation on the Doctor’s face. It would be impossible to say no, when he was so eager. “What do ye want tae know?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” The Doctor settled down in return, setting his book fully aside at last and tilting his own head over to lean it against the top of Jamie’s. “Whatever you would like to tell me.”

[wheelersdealer]

Can’t Deny My Love

Summary: Y/n is in denial about her love for Steve, Steve is in denial about his chances with Y/n. Robin encourages Steve to embrace his, fear encourages Y/n to embrace hers. Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader, a bit of Robin x Reader Warnings: STRANGER THINGS SEASON 3 SPOILERS and Profanity. A/n: Requests for Stranger Things season 3 are open!

“Go! Shit shit shit shit!” Your sneakers skid against the linoleum as you come face to face with a room full of uniformed Russian scientists — your best guess. There’s the gate past the glass they all look past, all eyes on you and your comrades as Dustin’s the first to fumble with where the hell to go.

Steve runs against you when you hesitate, before pushing you before him. You run after Erica, hurrying down the steps and kicking yourself up to skip a few like you used to when you were a kid. When you see Steve stumble you reach and grab his hand, yanking him down some steps and just out of the grasp of one of the soldiers behind him.

“This way!” Steve yells when you’re stuck on the bridge by the machine. It’s almost deafening but you can still hear the panic in everyone’s voices. When you run ahead of him, just a step or two, he grabs your shoulders and pushes you behind him before he throws forward a tower of waste containers into the guards that were so close to coming for you.

He looks back, yelling “Come on! Come on!” And grabs your hand in one of his, the other urging everybody to pass by him.

You run into the nearest room, and you almost keep going for it until Steve’s shoes  squeak and the door pounds shut. You run and hold it with him, ear against the door, eyes on him and occasionally flickering to the others as they one by one begin to realize the situation you and Steve are in.

“Hnng—Robin!” You yell and she comes near, pushing against the door behind you. You head is nearly in Steve’s chest but with your eyes closed as you try with all your strength to keep the damn door closed you block out everything else that’s happening.

You don’t understand what she’s referring to when Erica yells “Here! Come on, let’s go!” And the creaking of the grate Dustin and her pick up isn’t a clear exit to you. You push harder, thinking the men on the other side are creaking open your door.

“Go! Just get out of here!” Steve shouts.

Dustin keeps yelling for you all to get out of there, but Steve insists. “No! Just go get some help, okay?!”

And then you open your eyes and you’re pushed away from the door, Steve nodding his head up at Dustin and Erica with his eyes nearly squeezed shut.

“Y/n! Go with them! Go get help!”

Of course you don’t just go. Dustin jumps down into the grate but holds onto the rim of the floor, looking from you to Steve to Robin. His breath is heavy, just as heavy as yours, but the pain and worry in your face (some would say betrayal) in your face is clearer on yours to Steve than on Dustin’s.

You’re pleading, essentially, hands held out cautiously as though you’re trying to ease your way back to helping Steve and Robin. But the look he gives to you is just as pitiful.

He mouths “Please,” with a strain. And just for him, you’re hurrying backward, refusing to take your eyes off him.

You ease in behind Dustin, kneeling and holding open the grate when he yells to them, “I won’t forget you!”

But even the sentiment won’t make them change their minds. They yell “GO!” In unison, Steve’s eyes jumping between you two.

And with a pain in your heart, you enter after Dustin, dropping down carefully and making sure the grate closes securely above you. At the first sound of it clang against the floor, metal on metal, there’s yelping from Robin and Steve as another clang comes from the door that’s forced open by the soldiers.

There’s guns cocking, unintelligible shouting, and the sound of the vent denting and jerking underneath your knees as you crawl.

“Why’s she so quiet?” Erica blurts amidst Dustin’s explanation of the events that have unfolded over the past three years. You’re sat in a tight ventilation system and not particularly at ease. You open your mouth to defend yourself, knowing full well nothing will come out, but she spares your voice on the verge of tears by interjecting Dustin’s story to go, “Wait, by “we” you’re including Lucas?”

“Yes, of course,” Dustin says.

“So all that shit you told me, Lucas was there? And her too?”

You roll your eyes and scoff softly as she points a thumb at you. You personally don’t see why that’d be so hard to understand, but you let it go.

Dustin’s face scrunches up and he eyes you. “Yeah.”

“My brother, Lucas Charles Sinclair?”

“Yes!” Dustin looks at you for backup. You can only shrug.

Erica clicks her tongue. “I don’t believe you.” And she eyes you.

“Wait, so you believe everything about El and the gate and the Demodogs and the Mind Flayer, but you question your brother’s involvement? And you question her involvement?” Dustin points past himself and over to you. You raise a hand and give a weak wave when Erica looks at you.

She looks you up and down before turning to Dustin and nodding. “That’s correct?”

“Well, why her? Why’s it so hard to believe when she’s been here the whole time?”

“Yeah!” You scoff, adjusting your position. Unfortunately for you, you’re a little larger than a 10 and 14 year old and have to sit with your legs crossed and neck bent forward to sit anywhere near comfortably. You rest your cheek on your hand and look down at your feet. “Steve explicitly said I was there when the whole ‘gate’ thing happened. Do you really expect me to be clueless about my little brother opening a portal to another dimension?” You nudge him, “He’s not exactly the most discrete person. Don’t know why suddenly trust him but not me.”

Erica leans back and looks at you. “It’s because you’re so damn lovesick I can’t believe you managed to not get killed.”

“Woah woah woah — what do you mean by lovesick?”

Erica hums and looks at Dustin. He…hesitates.

“Dustin. What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Erica starts, “that the only reason why you’re with us right now is because he’s been saving you from near-death since you’ve been so busy stuck looking at him.”

“Okay, who’s him?”

Dustin sighs and licks his lips for a moment, bouncing his head and humming to himself his answer. One glare from you and he mutters, “Steve,” as he rolls his eyes as though to add on the phrase ‘obviously.’

“Okay I am not—” you scoff and grunt, leaning past Dustin and snatching his screwdriver from him. He doesn’t bother, but he does budge, scooting back knowing full well if he doesn’t he’ll receive your scorn. You fiddle with the fan’s panel and he sits back where you once sat, and he and Erica continue their conversation. You continue with “—in love,” under your breath, and all they do is spare a silent judging look.

“Um, you need help with that?” Erica asks.

And you scoff, “No,” your screwdriver incidentally slipping out of the secure place you’ve been working to get it lodged into.

She doubts you even more than before. “Well I mean it’s taking a while so—“

“Well obviously, Erica.”

She reels back and hisses. “Well geesh, didn’t think you’d get so pent up over your hubby.”

“H-hubby?” You grimace in disgust. “We’re not — that, okay? Whatever that is, that’s not us. So sorry for being scared for my friend. Suppose that means we’re dating, obviously.”

“I didn’t say you were dating. Just that you’ve got the hots.”

“Okay, ew! Can you shut up now?” Your hand slips again and you curse under your breath. You can practically sense Dustin sighing into his hand and it doesn’t help when Erica starts up again.

“All right, so if we don’t find a more efficient method to stop these fans then her,” you bite your tongue, literally and figuratively, “we’re never gonna find help, and your ice cream buddies are screwed.”

You tune her out by sheer force of will and continue to focus. You listen to the whirring of the blades instead of her and Dustin as their arguing develops into something a little more meaningful. It’s less in the realm of forcing your mind to visualize the horrific deaths of your friends, and more in the realm of ponies. It’s still not all that fun of a conversation to be listening to here and there, but you stop the fan.

And despite the torture she’s put your psyche through imagining all possible scenarios, you slide to the side as the fan’s electricity crackles and the blades come to a stop. You put them before you, letting them crawl through the still blades and follow after.

You can’t help but look behind you as you crawl.

And even later you feel an older-sibling, parental-like spirit in you when you push the kids up past a grate and up into a room featuring a hand little red vehicle and vials upon vials of mushy green goop — the same from earlier that burnt a hole through multiple stories.

You feel your heart rate pick up when you see Erica round a corner, but figuring your instincts are getting the better of you (and not wanting her to turn on you even more — say what you will about her age, her words still bite) you turn your back and let her wander on your own. When Dustin yells after her you wince knowing if there’s worry in his voice there’s something clearly wrong, and thinking of how much he’ll scold you if something happens to her and you come out about having seen her gone down a whole different hallway.

But then there’s a deafening zap and you turn to it and see her wielding a metallic rod with spurts of blue lightning coming out the tip of it.

“What the hell is that?!” Dustin leans back.

And Erica shrugs, “A deadly weapon. Could be useful.”

“O-kay!” You step in, snatching it from her and holding it somewhat close to your chest. “In anybody’s hands but yours.

“Thank you Y/n.” Dustin turns to Erica. “But for what?”

Her glare toward you softens and she looks at Dustin, smirking. “What do you think? Taking down Commies, saving your friends.” She looks at you. “Your boyfriend.” You groan. “And before you go on saying how he’s not your boyfriend — this isn’t about that. Do you want to save him or not?”

You bite your lip and tap your foot, looking at Dustin for the answers. Smart boy he is. And with a temper much more stable than yours.

“Thought you were more realistic than that, nerd. We don’t even know where they are, and even if we did there are a million guards up there —“

Erica rolls her eyes and walks off, but you follow, holding the weapon tight.

“Who have weapons way more deadly than this little one.”

Dustin holds a hand to you and nods. “The best thing we can do for them is to get out of here and find help.”

Dustin gets into the driver's seat and you get into the passenger one, ‘poor’ Erica getting squished between you. And it doesn’t help that in order to comfort yourself you’re leaning forward with your elbows on your knees and fingernails in your mouth.

You keep your eyes on the floor, but you feel Erica eye you, hoping you’ll back her up when Dustin explains how “Our chances of surviving, and theirs, rises substantially. Just trust me on this one?”

Dustin leans forward and catches your eyes. “Please?” He asks in a literal sense but the look on his face has him questioning his own decision. First you refuse to look either of them in the eye — the pressure of being the ‘adult’ in the group being much too heavy on you. You liked it better when there was Steve and Robin, and while Steve’s judgment hardly failed you, if one of yours did somebody else was able to come up with a decision just as big.

You sigh.

And looking back into Dustin’s eyes, you think (in a cheesy way), ‘What would Steve do?’

You sit up and look forward. Dustin sighs too and shrugs, putting the key in the ignition and squeezing tight on the wheel. His foot is hovering just over the gas when —

“Dustin, switch spots with me. Erica, go get some of those green things.”

He’s offended you’re second-guessing him but relieved you’re taking charge again.

You hold onto the top of the vehicle to aid yourself in getting out, and Dustin does too, stepping out and switching places with you.

Erica coos as she gets out of her seat. “Gonna go save your boyfriend?”

You huff and get situated at the wheel. “Ask Dustin how many times things have worked out any better when we’ve put the responsibility in somebody else’s hands.” Erica comes back with an armful and looks at him, and so do you. You give a sarcastic smile. “Have you found a number?”

Dustin shakes his head no and Erica gets in next to him, still cradling the green substances.

No, it has never worked out any better.

“Exactly.” You step on the gas.

The hallways are a lot more pleasing when you’re not walking for hours on end through them, and you go as fast as you can but manage to keep calm. Erica’s eyes are bugging, hoping to jumpstart a conversation between you or Dustin with the sheer look of questioning on her face. But just as you would any old car you keep a hand on the wheel, an elbow on your knee, and you pick at your lips to show you’re concentrating.

The plan?

You’ll (by some means) set off the alarm, and Erica and Dustin will sneak into the room with that colorful little tool (which sits unsafely between your closed legs, by the way, but never mind that) and use it if they have to.

Dustin’s never seen you so assertive. All those other years you were helpful, sure, but you followed orders, you didn’t give them.

Just back there Steve gave orders, you followed them. You’ve so often been lumped together with the kids, acting as a backup babysitter, an understudy for if anything went wrong — an understudy for if something happened to Steve.

When you come to your destination and park, you usher the kids out of the vehicle and keep them behind you while you scope the place out. You take the green stuff from Erica and hand the tool to Dustin. Then your plan starts.

It goes by in a blur summarized by your heart beating in your ears.

You kneel in a nearby hallway, unscrew all of the green vials, and wait for Dustin to assure you that he and Erica have found themselves a safe hiding space. Then you kick them forward and wince hearing the steel floors crackle and dissolve. You jump back, making sure none of it is on your shoe (that wouldn’t be good, would it?) Before running to hide with the two.

Some man (stereotypical evil Russian man) steps out of the room, and when you give the go-ahead that it’s clear enough, Erica and Dustin burst inside. You stay back, keeping an eye on the workers all huddled in the hallway where you spilled that goo. You hear Dustin’s jump in with a shout and the screaming of another man, the zapping sounds from the tool coming to your ears around the same time as smoke comes to your nose.

“Heeeey! Henderson!” Steve…slurs?

You step in after and smile softly at the side of his face…though beat up and bloody you’re glad to see him as okay as he is.

“That’s crazy, I was just talking about you.” You kneel down by Dustin and guide him out of the way. He’s having trouble with the belt straps around Steve’s feet so you get to work on those, not paying Steve any mind while Dustin and Erica go and work on the chest constraints with the main lock around Robin’s front.

“Oh heyyyy Sweetie. I was just talkin’ about you too!” You can’t help but blush.

“Get ready to run,” Dustin warns.

You help Steve up and grab his hand, running out of the room with him while Erica and Dustin guide Robin. You stay back for a moment, taking your hand from Steve and pushing him forward to make sure the huddle in the hallway isn’t any the wiser.

When you get back Dustin and Erica are pushing Robin and Steve into the back of the vehicle. And to not make things difficult you hop in with them considering Dustin’s already on his way to the driver’s seat.

Not the best decision you’ve made in a while since you huddle in your own corner watching them in fear you’ve seen this exact thing at one of Tina’s parties, and worrying because you really don’t need somebody to barf on you right now. Especially with the speed of the vehicle and Dustin’s wobbly driving.

“What is wrong with them?” Erica asks you through the wall.

“I don’t know!” Dustin yells.

As you pinch your nose you explain, “They’re obviously high on something—OW!” You cradle the back of your head when yours rams into the wall on account of Dustin crashing you guys into a tower of barrels.

You hear him wince. “You guys alright back there?”

“No,” you grit, and sit up ready to drag Robin and Steve out of the back. You grab Steve’s hands and try to pull him out but are unable to for the life of you. It might be easier if he wasn’t a drunk, incoherent, limp blob of flesh right now but you figured you’d give Dustin and Erica a head start in getting them out.

Dustin helps while he yells and Erica claps at them, and Steve falls against you, his back hunched and shoulders against yours. You wrap your arms around him to keep him held up and drag his limp self back to the elevator, Robin thankfully walking pretty well on her own.

Of course, things don’t get easier. Steve and Robin are ‘surfing’ while inside the elevator, and you keep alert for the exact moment that transpires. Steve falls forward, rolling on his side but laughing hysterically as he comes and rests his head against some boxes. You kneel beside him, lifting his head up and setting it in your lap while Dustin checks his temperature.

“He’s burning up,” Dustin gasps.

You close your eyes and wince hearing Steve whimpering “Ooowww,” as Dustin gets hold of his face and forces his eyes open.

“His pupils are super dilated.”

You hold Steve’s cheek and frown. “Probably drugged them or something…” Erica squints at you. “What? That’s what they do. Ever heard of ‘Truth serum?’”

She scoffs. “Yeah, in the movies.”

You lean forward, holding your hands over Steve’s ears. “Well Erica — you only hear of government experiment monsters in movies, but look where we are now.”

“I don’t think they weren’t drugged. I’m just sayin’ I doubt they call it ‘truth serum.’”

“Yeah, well, of course they don’t. This is a legitimate government organization, no shit they don’t call it truth serum.” You take your hands off Steve’s ears and instead gently pet his forehead. “Steve —“

“Oh there you are, sweetie!”

“Yeah, hi — “ you blush again but try as hard as you’re allowed to get the blood to stop flowing to your cheeks, “ — where’d you park the car?”

Of course, the Russians took his keys.

And of course, it doesn’t matter cause, of course, they’re waiting for you five at the elevator’s entrance.

And of course the movie theater would only have four available seats.

You promise Dustin you’ll be back soon, but have to make an even bigger case for Steve who keeps holding onto your wrist and whining, wondering “Where you goin’?” With his eyes half closed and a frown.

“I’m just gonna go scope the place out, okay? Okay?”

“Wait Y-Y/n!” Dustin’s met with a harsh SHHH from the lady behind him, and while he contemplates running after you, he forces himself to sit down and watch at least some of the movie.

You jog out of the theater and into the rest of the mall. It’s like the world’s spinning around you as you try to pinpoint any sign of suspicion, like a destination or something you can go to, to clear your head, but everything is just so out in the open. None of the stores are open, they’re all closed with those thick, grid-patterned bars…but it’s so quiet. It’s the first time you’ve experienced quiet in so long and you know this whole experience it might as well be nothing with how long it’s lasted…still, your heart aches knowing that this isn’t over. You’re not done with this, and this has a whole other level it’s going to go to. There are a whole ‘nother dozen pages of script and while you can relax now and cherish the fact that Steve and Robin and Dustin and Erica — that you’re all safe….it’s only for now.

You lean against a column just outside the movie theatre and close your eyes as you bang your head back against it again and again. Softly to avoid making any noise, but just enough to hurt.

And then you get up and walk away, hands deep in your pockets while you do as you told Dustin and ‘scope out the mall.’ It’s only a matter of time. You know this, you’ve been through this before, it’s only a matter of time before you’re not safe anymore.

So lost in your thoughts you don’t even notice Steve and Robin slipping out of the bathroom so carelessly. You’re already jogging down the escalator like regular stairs when they start fighting over who gets to use the water fountain, but the movie even from out here is still so loud you can’t hear their intoxicated babbling.

You’re scoping out the food court looking to see if there’s anything leftover that you can see from the seating area, and looking for good places you’ll hide behind if you need to when in the upstairs bathroom Steve and Robin start to play a game.

“Hit me,” Steve says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

And Robin runs her hand through her hair as she thinks to ask, “Have you….ever been in love?”

“Yep…Nancy Wheeler…and uh, Y/n.”

Robin hums, slightly impressed. “Y/n Y/n? Our, Y/n?”

“Mhmmm…Nance — first semester, senior year.” He intimidates a gunshot and chuckles painfully. “Y/n…I don’t know what happened.”

“Did anything ever happen?”

Steve taps his fingers on the toilet bowl. “No…no, only with me and Nancy.”

“Are you…still in love, with Nancy?”

After a moment, Steve shakes his head. He bites his lip before wincing at the pain it brings his jaw, and he sighs and goes back to letting his mouth hang slightly open. “No…no.”

“Why not?” Robin cocks her head.

“Because I have someone who’s a little bit better for me…”

“Is it Y/n?”

Steve goes quiet. At first, he shakes his head to himself, before nodding faintly. Though Robin, on the other side of the stall can only wonder the reason for his silence. She inhales to speak but Steve starts up again.

He holds his hand to his head to steady it and mumbles into his palm. “Ever since Dustin got home, he’s been saying, y’know, ‘You can’t let go of your Suzie, you can’t let go of your Suzie,’ calling me out for trying to get with other girls, basically just yelling at me for not making a move yet and—“

“Wait,” Robin sits up, “Who’s Suzie?”

“It’s some girl from camp, I guess his girlfriend…To be honest with you I’m not even 100% sure she’s even real,” he chuckles, “but that’s not—that’s not really the point. That doesn’t matter. The point is, Y-….this girl…you know, that I like…she’s somebody that I…only ever paid attention to outside of high school. I don’t even know why. I knew who she was, I knew what she was like…I liked it…she was there for me when-when Nance and me — it-it’s doesn’t matter. I guess cause Tommy H. Would have made fun of me or something or she wouldn’t have wanted to be seen with me. I could have reminded her of everything, y’know, that we went through outside of school. Hell, it could have been because I would be Prom King! It’s stupid. I mean, Dustin’s right, it’s all just a bunch of bullshit anyways. Because when I think about it I should’ve been hanging out with this girl the whole time. And I mean, she’s so sweet, and she cares about me, and this summer never have I grasped ‘conflict resolution’ so hard and felt so genuinely cared for in a really long time. And she’s smart, way smarter than me…And we just, we work really well together and everything. And y’know, on the outside you wouldn’t think it I suppose, but she’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met before.”

Robin hasn’t interjected once.

In her stall, she’s been smiling…so, so wide…she understands every word he’s saying…But after a while, her smile twitches into a pitiful frown, and she’s burying her head in her arms and keeping her lips pressed tight together.

“Robin, did you just OD in there?”

“No…” She sits up and leans back against the tiled wall. “I,” she takes a breath, “am still alive.”

Steve’s brows twitch. After a thought he slides under the stall and sides across from her, both of their feet up against each other’s body.

“What do you think?” He asks.

“About?”

“This girl…”

“She sounds awesome—“

“She is awesome.” Robin bites her lip. She knows. “And what about the guy?”

She feels a bit of an ache in her heart but she says it. “I think he’s on drugs, and he’s not thinking straight. I think he is…” She throws her head back against the wall and smiles a bit, “incredibly dumb for not taking his chances, and for wasting his time talking about this girl, instead of talking to her.”

“No. I think he,” he scoffs, “for once is thinking straight…leaving her alone…” He starts running his finger in circles around his knee. But his bit of bliss is sidetracked when Robin chokes out —

“No. He’s not. He has no idea how this girl feels about him. And if he did like-like really know how she felt about him…I think he would have been a lot happier a long time ago.”

His mind can’t figure out a direction to go in. Would he be happier cause he’d be with her? Or happier being over her?

“That’s not true,” he insists, “no way is that true.”

“Listen, to me, Steve.” Robin takes a deep breath and closes her eyes while facing the ceiling. “Do you remember what I said about Click’s class? About me being jealous and like, obsessed?” Steve nods softly. “It isn’t because I had a crush on you. It’s because…” She looks at him and stares him deep in the eyes. “It’s because she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

Steve shakes his head. “Mrs. Click?”

Robin chuckles. “Y/n. Y/n Henderson. I wanted her to look at me. But…she couldn’t pull her eyes away from you and your stupid hair. And I didn’t understand cause you would get bagel crumbs all over the floor. And you asked dumb questions, and you were a douchebag. And — and you didn’t even like her, and I would go home and-and just scream, into my pillow.”

“But, Y/n’s a girl…”

“Steve…”

“Yeah?” Robin forces a smile, her lips, and cheeks pink. “Oh…”

Her smile twitches, but she keeps it up. She sniffles and rubs her nose along her shoulder, down into her sleeve as she hugs herself softly. And Steve leans back, lips parted as he leans back against the stall’s wall.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah…holy shit.” Steve squeezes his kneecaps, running his hands up and down his legs as he thinks. Robin cracks a smile. “Steve? Did you OD over there?”

“No, I just uh….just thinking.”

“Okay,” She says, playing with her earing.

“I mean yeah.” Steve shrugs. “Y/n, she’s…she’s cute. And she’s nice, and she cares—she cares about you. And, and I’m not completely sure about thinks y’know we, we haven’t really talked about that, or anything but…” he smiles at Robin. “You should go for it. If-if things work out, y’know, I’d think she’d really like you…”

Robin chuckles, exasperated and puts her head against the wall again. She rolls it around, rocking herself side to side as her old memories of douchebag ‘King Steve’ get replaced more and more with this new one she wishes she’d known all her life.

“I mean, can you imagine that?! You two would look great together — intimidating as shit, psh, probably attracting more girls to the store than I ever could with my—“ he scoffs and flicks at his hair, “stupid hat and glowing hair.”

“She likes you, Steve.”

“Okay, well,” he shrugs, “I like you so I don’t see why she wouldn’t.”

She sits up with her arms around her knees and slaps Steve in the side. He winces and holds the spot but continues, going on about how awesome you and her would be together. She can see the little bit of rejection in his face but she can’t help but laugh knowing it’s completely baseless! While she hasn’t felt too much since working with you, settling in nicely to being your dear friend, just remembering the power of her emotions back then and how positively Steve’s reacting to them warms her heart. She knows with him practically being her wingman she’ll be just fine, even if you’re at his side.

“Steve! She likes you, trust me!”

Steve scoffs and hits his head on the wall. “Eh, I — eh, I’m fine.”

“Steve! Don’t make me lock you two in a damn room!” Robin starts swatting at him again and he recoils, hugging himself and leaning halfway out of the stall.

“Hey, hey, I’m just trying to be a good friend!”

“So, be a good friend and date her already!”

Steve’s pinching his nose and laughing hysterically at the thought. Happy laughter and nervous laughter. Robin’s laughing, completely dumbfounded by the turn of events and hysterical at this goof being in such doubt compared to his younger self.

And then the door to the bathroom swings open, Dustin and Erica waltzing in with scorn on their faces and absolute disbelief at what they think still happens to be a high Steve and Robin.

“Okay. What the hell?!”  

Their laughter stops, though Robin can’t help but hiccup.

“Heh, wh-where’s Y/n?” Steve asks. He’s playful about it at first before his sobriety shines through and he’s preparing to stand, worried eyes darting around for you.

“Well we don’t know cause we were too busy looking for you two!”

Steve gulps. “Fuck. Fuck.” And stands up, grabbing Robin’s hand and helping her before attempting to charge out of the bathroom. But Dustin stops him, grabbing his arm and pulling with all his weight. It doesn’t take much before Steve intentionally stops but Dustin’s quick with his explanation.

“She’s out there but we need to wait and go with the crowd in case the,” he looks around and lowers his voice, “in case the Russians are out there.”

Steve’s gripping his hair, beginning to pace around the bathroom. “You just let her leave? Why wasn’t she in the theater with you two?”

Erica scoffs. “Why weren’t you in the theater with us?”

Steve bites his lip and kicks at the wall.

He waits with his ear against the door for the movie to end, and when Dustin says “Blend” at the visual of people walking out of the theater and the sound of laughter, Steve speed-walks right out of there. He looks back to make sure the kids and Robin are near, but can’t stop raising his neck to look for you over the crowd.

You made your way back upstairs via some of the shut-down escalators, just in time to spot not Steve, Robin, Dustin, or Erica, but the black-clad Russian soldiers checking the bags and purses of people coming out of the theater.

With a heavy heart, you walk away from the scene, looking over your shoulder and trying to spot any of them but remaining unable to find even that obnoxious Scoops Ahoy uniform.

You pick up the pace when you see the soldiers begin to move, spreading out and covering more of the available exits. You turn to look forward just as you run into a body. For starts not as thick as the soldiers you’ve come across, and not as slick as their uniforms, but you freak out regardless, unable to scream but forcing your eyes shut momentarily as their hands grip your wrists and keep you standing.

“Y/n?!”

It’s Jonathan.

You’re not entirely relieved, but incredibly confused. You jerk away from him as you see Nancy and the others halt in their steps just as they were approaching.

“What-what are you doing here?” Jonathan looks back and lets go of you when he sees Nancy coming.

She takes a shuddery breath and hugs you tight, arms coming from under your own and her fingers brushing the back of your neck.

“What are you doing here?!”

“What are you doing here?” You scoff. She takes no offense and Jonathan doesn’t either, seeing the uh…streaks and scuffs and bruises all of you — the dirt on your hoodie, even the burnt off bits of your hoodie. You don’t notice it until Jonathan does, and you frankly look quite terrified as you pick at it and realize some of that goop was this close to actually touching you.

“Is that Eleven?” You see her between Max and Mike, and then you see Lucas and Will.

Mike steps forward, his chin to his chest. “Are you here with Dustin?”

“Wh—“

Nancy and Jonathan both perk up. “What about Steve?”

You look over your shoulder, and there…there they are, trying to push through the crowd but freezing (like a bunch of buffoons you’d say especially considering everything you’ve been through) before they break through it, running. The commotion isn’t much among all of the movie-goers still leaving. But you see the Russian soldiers spread out. You grab Jonathan’s sleeve and drag him, hopping in your spot at first before bolting. You only manage a faint, choking, and raspy “C’mon.”

Some of them are hesitant at first but follow.

When you find a safe enough corner where there’s some couches set up to sit and plenty of columns and decorative floral pieces to hide behind.

You kneel behind a coffee table, one hand against the ground to aid you in getting up if needed.

“Y/n, what’s going on?” Jonathan steps forward, his arms crossed.

You take a deep breath and try to keep your breathing steady after that. “You guys need to get out of here.”

Mike scoffs. “What are you even doing here?”

“And where’s Dustin?” Will asks.

You roll your eyes. “They’re here, but—“

“Who’s they?”

“Me, Dustin, Steve, uh, Robin — Erica.”

“Erica? My Erica, my little sister Erica Sinclair?”

“My GOD can you just shut up for a second?” Most of them jump in some way. “I’m trying to get to the points you’re asking about but I can’t get to them if I have to answer you directly!” You stamp your foot against the ground and look off, clenching your jaw and blinking rapidly to keep any tears from coming. “You need to get out of here because there is Russian military in the mall, okay?”

“How do you—“ You can’t even register who it’s coming from.

“Because we broke into a room hidden as a storage closet but it was really just an elevator that took us to their lab underground! We just barely got out, they drugged Steve and Robin — Robin’s uh, he-they work together,” Nancy slowly lowers her hair, “Tortured Steve or some shit—“

“Tortured?” Jonathan sputters. He immediately looks apologetic for interrupting.

“Yes! Okay, they’re-they’re building this thing underneath the mall and now they know me and them exist and they chased us in here but they were hiding in the theater and now those guys, you see those guys?” You point, “In the black, checking purses? Yeah, those are Russian military men. Okay? And I just saw Steve, Dustin, Erica, Robin — I just saw all of them making a break for it which probably means they’re looking for me too, so you all need to get the hell out of here and —“

You stop, hearing your voice echo in the now empty mall. You didn’t think the mall would clear out so fast but it’s almost completely quiet. You weren’t that loud to begin with but the fire in your veins deafened you to only what you were saying.

You face drops and you stand up, scuffing your knees against the carpet but ignoring the mild sting and going to the railing. You look over, seeing the men dressed just the same with guns in their grasp. And ahead of them, you see your crew huddled behind a counter in the food court.

You choke, seeing Dustin and Steve sat together and able to tell from this far away how scared shitless they are — eyes probably closed shut, their bodies definitely shaking.

Just when Jonathan reaches you, you run from him. He trips and barely catches himself trying to make up for his lost catch, but the sudden pressure on the floor prompts some of the guys to point their guns to the second floor. Jonathan’s out of sight by then but you running gets all of their attention.

One of them yells at the other and they start shooting, your hunched stature as you hurry keeping you safe for the most part, the other part being the columns.

In a lapse of judgment Dustin and Steve look up from their hiding places. Steve’s eyes go wide at first you, then the sight of all the Russian standing almost in a cluster shooting at you as you run. You stop for just a moment, just a second, catching eyes with Steve. The pure fear and horror in your eyes breaks him, and the fear and horror in his eyes breaks you.

He curses at you to run for it….and you do, still trying to look for a way down there.

Your near parental protection over your brother Dustin got the better of you.

But just when you think to hesitate and check on them again, the car on the bottom floor of the mall starts rattling. It rattles and gunfire stops as attention goes on the car. You sneak back around to the escalators, hide behind a pillar and looking forward to see Eleven with her arm raised and blood dripping out of her nose. She concentrates, catching eyes with you for a second, then seeming to look at Dustin, though he’s a bit clueless to her presence.

And then the horns start honking, so obnoxiously as the sound ricochets through the mall.

She pushes her hand forward with a grunt…and the car screeches forward, rolling across the ground and crushing all of the guys one by one.

You don’t wait till it’s without a doubt safe. You hold onto the sides of the escalator to lift yourself and you swing over the rope-barrier, then skip down the steps and hop over the next one.

You run to the court where Erica and Robin are just beginning to stand, and without any hesitation, you lean over and hug your brother so damn tight he’d swear he couldn’t breathe. You squeeze him, swaying as best as you can over the counter. Then you lean back and hold his cheeks.

He’s shocked by the tears in your eyes and elated smile on your lips.

“Oh my god,” you breath, “why would you leave, you’re so stupid!” You kiss the top of his head.

“Why would I leave? You left too!”

You cackle and hook your chin over his shoulder. “Why do we keep getting into things? We’re both so stupid!”

You let him free to walk around. And there’s Steve, staring at you. His hands are pressed to the counter and he’s completely breathless. The exchange is quiet..awkward…but together you get this burst of energy and run around to meet each other. You hug him so tight with your arms going around his neck, and he’s too slow to do the same so he’s left a bit shocked with his arms limp at his side. Cautiously he wraps them around your waist, dropping his forehead to your neck.

Robin tries to pass and follow after Dustin and Erica, but you let one arm leave Steve to beckon her into the hug. She points to herself curiously and you nod, grabbing her before she has a chance to respond again and pulling her into a group hug.

She’s scared to at first but wraps an arm around your back.

With your head dipped down and looking at your shoes, Robin gives Steve a look. Then she leaves the hug, rubbing your back to assure you of good things and leaving you and Steve alone. He steps away from you too but only to hug you again, his hands on your shoulders and gripping them for a moment before he pulls you into his chest.

He grimaces and tries pulling away remembering the potential for vomit (thankfully for you there is none on his upper half) but you couldn’t care less. You hug him tighter and he has to grab your hands and pull them apart so he can put some distance between you two.

“Y/n — Y/n.”

“Steve,” you mock, “Steve.”

He gulps and between yourselves, he sways your hands a bit.

“Oh my god,” he chuckles, voice high, almost not like himself. “That was I think the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced.” He sniffles and looks at your hands.

“Really? What happened to getting tortured by the Russian government just a few hours ago?” You cup his cheek and hover your thumb over his swollen eye.

He forces a smile. “Well, that was —“ he rolls his eyes, “—bad, and I was basically drunk, so—“

“Ah,” you smile wide, “is that why you kept calling me sweetie?”

“Wait…I did?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Well shit.”

“It’s okay.” You stroke his cheek some more and tuck hair behind his ear. “It was cute, Harrington.”

“Har har.” Had everybody else not been reuniting with each other right now, it would be incredibly awkward for them to watch as you just stare at each other. He puts his arms around your waist again and his hands rest right against the small of your back. And you’re blissfully content just stroking his hair. “No I-I know I just got like, tortured earlier but…everything else that’s happened to us, everything else that’s saved us…Y/n you know that was just coincidence. And then there you came in just as I thought we were all about to be gunned down, only for you to almost be gunned down, and then — “ he’s rambling like he’s telling any other story and God is it adorable “ — they’re shooting and Jesus Y/n I swear I had a heart attack.” He holds his hand to his chest. “Ouch.”

“Well I-I had to distract them somehow.”

“By attracting the attention of five guys with high-speed bullets?”

You sputter, “Y-eaahh?”

Steve cackles. “You can be so stupid, I love you.”

Your smile drops. “What?”

“You heard me.” He shrugs. “I…love you? And I figure that since we’ve made it to intermission, we might as well make one of those like, ‘If we’re not both married by 30 we’ll get married’ pacts only like, it starts now.” He rolls his eyes at himself, hair bouncing as he tilts his head to the side. “Well, more like, after, this final boss fight cause you know there’s gonna be a boss fight, right?”

You hum and nod.

“See? So…wanna…maybe do that with me?”

You bite your lip. “Steve, I don’t want to do this if you’re just doing it to do this…If you’re scared and so desperate that we’ll just be thrown back into this again and like, there won’t be enough time for you to find somebody you actually want to date so you’re trying to date me—“

“No no no, not at all Y/n.” He cocks his head. “Y’know, just took me seeing you almost die 15 times in the last 24 hours and then me and Dustin and Robin and Erica almost dying 15 times in the last few hours to realize how disgustingly miserable I’d be without you and how quick I was to jump to finding someone like you when you were gone at camp for a month…”

“Really?”

“Really. I’m just,” he clicks his tongue and looks over your head, “not gonna deny the fact that I love you anymore.” He looks you in the eyes. “Not again…”

You hold his face with both hands and mutter a quiet “Sorry” when he winces. But he nods to assure you he’s okay before holding a hand over yours.

“Deals on, Harrington.”

“Do we kiss now?” You wondered that too, especially with all the…swollenness and the blood….he didn’t get a chance to brush his teeth either but he did rinse his mouth out with a lot of water while waiting in the bathroom.

You scrunch your nose at the question seeing how it so starkly broke the mood, but after a moment, “Yeah yeah, I think we do.”

And so, you do.