#like i am allowed to find that strange and say that it's weird to do that. I will support your right to do whatever the fuck you want to

[pass-me-the-dilfs]

I think it's important to say that you can ship whatever you want and enjoy/write fiction about any given topic, even if it's "taboo" or illegal. You can even enjoy "problematic" depictions of those taboo subjects.

That being said, if you make your entire personality about defending incest and pedophilia, I think it's okay when people call you weird and don't want to talk to you.

[stevie-petey]

episode one: the hellfire club

Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–” “Boobies! It’s not a big deal–” You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.” “Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!”  You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.” 

Summary: el writes to you as if youre her husband away at war, you debate the intricate nature of liking boobies with robin and steve, lucas is your beloved while eddie munson is your sworn enemy, steve accidentally exposes your (horribly hidden) daddy issues, dustin is an angsty teen, and jonathan really loves to drop emotional bombshells on you. can you believe this all happens in one day ? lol cheers to senior year !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of abuse, allusions to bullying, trauma lol

Words: 13.5k (wrote half of this in one day)

Before you swing in: SHES HERE !!!! SEASON 4 !!! this season terrifies me. i spent so much time outlining and making sure it was perfect. i have some changes i want to do, some ideas, and its scary because we dont have season 5 yet and i hate messing with canon ,,, alas: here she is. my baby. my beloved. quick fun fact: theres a scene in here ive had planned since season 1 so .... enjoy !

–

March 21st, 1986.

Dear Y/N,

Congratulations on New York University! Joyce tells me that it is a very good college, and everyone was extremely happy when Jonathan told us the news. He even had a smile on his face! It has been a very long time since I have seen him smile, especially without that weird smell on him (am I allowed to tell you about the strange plants that Jonathan seems to like now? He says that you cannot find out about it, but friends don’t lie and he is your bestest friend). 

I asked Will about it, and he says that Jonathan now smells because he misses you. If you ask me, I think that Jonathan smells because he is scared. We are still waiting for his college letter, afterall. I know you want to go to school with him, but so does Nancy. Is it possible to go to two colleges? Anyways, it must be a lot of pressure, even more with all the waiting we have to do, but Joyce told us that sometimes colleges take a long time to respond. 

While I am positive that Jonathan will figure it all out soon, he pretends he does not care. But he is a very bad liar. He was very upset that Nancy could no longer visit us in California. Will was bummed too, but he was more sad that it was not you who was visiting. Joyce says that the Byers boys were born to miss you, and I think she is right. 

I also miss you. I am still bummed I never went to school with you. I bet Mike is over the moon to have you with him for high school, Dustin and Lucas also. How is Max? Is she still sad? I know school has been hard for her. I will admit that it is hard for me, too. While I am good at maths, and my grammar is getting better, I am still unsure when to use conjunctions or why Angela does not like me. Will tells me to ignore her, but I want to be her friend. She is nice to everyone else. It confuses me that she is not nice to me.

A lot about California confuses me. The flowers here are different, and sometimes I forget that I cannot go and visit you. I miss the smell of Bookstrordinary (did I spell it right?) and your cookies. Please send more as soon as you can. Will and I are almost dying to taste them again! Mike says he will try to bring some on the plane, but I am scared he will be told no by those scary airplane people.

Speaking of Mike, he is coming to California this week! I am very excited to see him. It has felt like years, I think I am even going crazy. I have planned everything for his week here. Spring break will be extra special! It will be a fun distraction from Angela and school. This week I can pretend to be someone else, someone cool, and Mike will be very impressed. I know you tell me to always be myself, so I hope that I can make you happy by taking your advice on focusing only on the good. 

To prove I will focus on the good from here on out, here is a good things list: 

Mike is visiting!

Will has almost finished his painting. I am very curious to see what he has made. He is really talented, he shows me the drawings he sends you sometimes. 

You got into NYU! Is this the correct way to abbreviate? I am still working on conjunctions, but I think I am supposed to use the first letter of every word in the school’s name to shorten it. At least, that is what Joyce says. 

Jonathan’s new best friend, Argyle, will give us free pizza to celebrate Mike’s arrival. It is really good pizza. 

Tasting your cookies again. Fingers crossed Mike’s plan succeeds!

I am sure there is more, but I am too excited about this week and my mind is going very fast. I miss you tons, maybe even more than Will and Jonathan do. Please come visit us soon. Like Joyce says, the Byers boys were born to miss you. Although I am not a Byers boy, I am still a part of the Byers family, and I miss you. 

Love, El.

P.S., thank you for the grammar books. I will be sure to become the best writer ever in California. 

–

Sweet, gentle, El. You can almost hear her voice, reading aloud to you as you used to do when she lived in Hopper’s cabin. She would stumble over the letters, ask you how to sound out particularly difficult words in Spider-Man comics; they helped her learn how to read. Now, almost a year later, she’s writing you letters. 

El has grown up so much within such a short few months, although it doesn’t surprise you.

Laughing softly as you reread the final line she’s written, you wipe your eyes and place El’s letter onto your desk. The piece of paper joins the others, nestled gently with a pile of her other letters that are housed on your desk. El sends you a new letter every week, detailing silly stories about Jonathan and Will or concerned ramblings about Angela.

The letters make you miss El terribly. They make you miss everyone terribly. 

Next to the letters are drawings from Will. He’s become such an artist during his time in California. He sends you beautiful sketches of landscapes in their neighborhood, doodles from class, and incredibly detailed drawings of you and the party. The drawings are Will’s special way to keep in contact with you, and it’s something you cherish so deeply. However, you didn’t know that he was working on a painting, and you’re curious to see what El is talking about. Eventually he’ll reveal his art to you, he always does.  

Skimming a finger over one of the more recent drawings from Will, your hand catches on the walkman that lays next to it. Jonathan’s messy handwriting is scrawled on the mixtape that sits within it.

For bug.

The words, familiar and loved, stare back at you. The mixtape contains songs that Jonathan so carefully chose for you. He spent countless hours selecting songs that he knew you’d love, songs that reminded him of you. It had been his gift for you before he moved away. And now he’s gone, and you miss him so much more than you ever thought you would. More than you ever thought you could miss anyone.  

Jonathan never did end up coming to Hawkins for spring break. 

“Dusty, what’s going on in there?” The sound of your mother pounding on Dustin’s door breaks you from your thoughts. “You’re gonna be late.”

“Don’t come in, I’m naked!” You hear the boy screech back at her, which you roll your eyes at. Steve will be here to pick you guys up any minute. Dustin knows he should be ready by now, the schedule has never changed. 

Throwing on the cardigan Steve got you for Christmas last year, you grab your walkman and storm over to Dustin’s room. At the same time, your mother nearly crashes into you in the hall. Her face is pale, horrified of the idea that she almost saw her son naked, and you pity the woman. Dustin has become relentless lately, even more difficult to deal with. 

“Y/N, my dear,” your mother clutches at her chest and fans her face. “Can you please make sure your brother is ready? I think that boy is trying to give me a heart attack.”

You sigh, figuring you would have to do so anyways. “Yeah, sure. Go finish getting ready, I’ll handle him.”

“This is why you’re my favorite daughter!” Your mother kisses your cheek before running off towards the kitchen to make her morning coffee. 

Once she’s gone, you immediately start banging on Dustin’s door. He knows you hate being late. Plus, it’s the Friday before spring break. You’re getting antsy waiting for this week to end. “Dustin Henderson, you have three seconds before I kick this door down.”

“Not now, Y/N!” Dustin shouts back, frantic and desperate. 

You narrow your eyes. He’s using his suspicious voice, the one he only uses when he’s doing something he absolutely shouldn’t be doing. Glancing down at your watch and noting the early hour, you curse in disbelief. “It’s not even seven yet, what the hell are you up to so early in the morning?”

“Nothing! Just go away, I’ll be out soon–”

“I swear, if you’re trying to sell my limited edition comics again I will hurt you.” You throw your body against the door, causing it to fly open as you stumble inside. Dustin is at his computer and he nearly falls off his chair in his haste to cover the screen from you. He’s remarkably horrible at playing cool. You’re about to tell him this when Suzie’s voice crackles through his radio’s speakers. 

“Yikes, Dusty.”

“Suzie?” You walk over to your brother and shove his hands off the computer screen. He falls to the ground with a loud thud, which pleases you. He may be a teenager now, but you’re still stronger than him. At least for now. “Why are you calling her right now–” Your eyes land on the screen and you recognize Hawkins High’s familiar orange and green school colors. “Is this the student gradebook?”

“No!” Dustin exclaims, but Suzie’s small and soft voice responds, “Yes.”

“Oh my God,” you cannot believe he’s making his girlfriend hack into your school’s database. Sure, she’s a genius, but you also know she’s incredibly religious. “Dustin, this is so illegal and goes against, like, all of Suzie’s religious morals–”

“I will repent later.” Suzie interrupts you, and you raise your eyebrows at what she’s just said. Before you can question her, Dustin’s computer refreshes. 

He leans forward, eyes scanning to see if they’ve succeeded, and he seems to like what he sees. Suddenly Dustin lets out a sudden whoop and fist bumps the air. “God, I love you Suzie.”

Curious, you lean over and read the screen as well. There, where you know Dustin had a D- in Latin not even a day ago, is now an A. There’s no possible way he was able to raise his grade in under twenty-four hours. He sucks at Latin, he hates it, which means… She did it. Suzie changed his grade. All she had to do was press one single button to save Dustin’s GPA. 

You have to admit, it’s impressive. And shamefully genius. 

“Hey, Suzie.” You bring the radio to your lips, shoving Dustin away when he tries to take it from you. “Do you think you could change my grade in calculus? Jonathan was the only reason I passed any of my other math classes.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Suzie’s voice raises a pitch, she doesn’t want to tell you no. She likes you, she really does, but her God figurine stares down at her with a disappointed look in his eyes. She’s sinned for love, but she doesn’t think she could ever do it again. 

You’re about to plead with Suzie, tell her NYU really prioritizes their student’s grades, but the sound of a car honking outside catches your attention; it’s Steve. Dustin yanks the radio from your hand and shoos you away. “Go, leave without me.”

“What, why? We always drive together.” You frown, feeling like a little kid when you cross your arms. Dustin smiles apologetically, a smile you’ve become familiar with. Your mood darkens, anger rises to your cheeks. You know exactly why Dustin is now skipping out on you. “Don’t tell me it’s that stupid Eddie Munson–”

“He wants me and Mike to work out some campaign details before lunch today!” Dustin scrambles to mediate. He hates that you don’t like Eddie, and you like everyone. It’s unnerving how much disdain you seem to carry for his friend. “Nance is driving us, but I swear I’ll ride with you and Steve after break!”

You scoff at Dustin, not at all believing his promise to you. Ever since September your brother has been at Eddie Muson’s beck-and-call, who dictates everything Dustin says or does. At first it was innocent enough, choosing to sit with the guy instead of you at lunch. Skipping out on a few weekend plans with you and Steve to campaign with Eddie. You’d been happy for Dustin. He was making new friends, no longer your little shadow; he was his own person with his own priorities and interests now.

But ever since getting into NYU last week, Dustin has been pulling away even more from you. You don’t know why, but he’s become even more obsessed with Eddie and his stupid Hellfire club. 

Eddie Munson is the air your brother now breathes, stifling the air Dustin once breathed for you.

And it seems to only be suffocating you, not him.

“Yeah, whatever.” Halfheartedly you ruffle Dustin’s hair, and he leans into the touch. You don’t want him to know his repeated absences are upsetting you. Deep down, you know you’re being irrational. You’re almost eighteen, soon you won’t even be living under the same roof as Dustin. He’s allowed to live his own life. “I guess I’ll see you at the pep rally. Tell Suzie I said bye, please?”

Dustin nods, though you don’t linger in the doorway like you desperately want to. Instead, you shut the door behind you and place a swift kiss to your mother’s cheek as you leave. 

Steve’s car is parked in its usual spot at the end of the driveway. The teen’s arm hangs out the window and his face breaks into a smile when he sees you approaching. Steve’s smile is infectious, it’s always charmed you, and it settles the ache in your chest from your brother’s earlier dismissal. Feeling a smile spread across your own face, you run towards Steve and poke your head through the open window.

“Hi,” you breathe out, nose almost bumping against his cheek.

“Hi, angel.” Steve kisses you, solidifying your morning tradition. Neither one of you really remembers who started it, but sometime during the school year you began to slip your head through Steve’s car window so that he could kiss you slow and sweet. 

And, as tradition follows, Robin starts boos. “Do you have to do that every morning?”

Steve makes a face at her and she punches his arm. He yelps in pain and you roll your eyes at the two of them before running over to the passenger’s side where Robin sits. Her window is rolled down as well and you duck your head inside. “Aw, Robin. If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve just said so!” 

“A kiss–?” Your lips press against Robin’s cheek, smushing against her face while making a dramatic sound. She squeals and pushes you away, wiping her now wet cheek in disgust. “That is not what I wanted.”

You giggle at her and finally get into the car. It’s getting late, you see the assortment of Robin’s limited makeup dumped into her lap haphazardly. She’s been stressing about this morning’s pep rally all week, and clearly she isn’t coping very well. Trying to cheer her up, you flick her shoulder. “I’ll have you know that my cheek kisses are cherished in Hawkins.”

“How many people’s cheeks are you kissing?” Steve turns in his seat to face you, slightly alarmed. Then, noticing that there’s only one Henderson in his car, he frowns. “And where’s little Henderson?”

“Eddie Munson.”

“Woah, wait, you mean Eddie as in where Dustin is, right? Not, like, you’ve been kissing his cheek? I’m right, right? Please tell me I’m right.”

You roll your eyes fondly at Steve while Robin rolls hers in displeasure. “Just drive, Steve.”

–

It becomes pretty apparent five minutes into the car ride that no one seems to be having a good morning. Robin has spent the majority of the drive applying and reapplying her mascara while messing with her hair. She groans every time she looks in the mirror and her eyes lack their usual brilliance. 

Meanwhile, Steve has been complaining about yet another fight with his dad. Apparently they argued during breakfast, something that has become a common occurrence in the Harrington household. 

“The asshole again reminded me that I’m turning twenty soon. As if I don’t already know that! I mean,” Steve laughs in exasperation. “For weeks now he’s been asking me what my plans are, as if working at Family Video just isn’t good enough for him. As if my dad isn’t the sole reason I had to get a lousy minimum wage job in the first place!” 

“Family Video isn’t a lousy job–”

“Yes it is.” Both Steve and Robin say at the same time, which you sigh at. Can’t really argue with that. 

“Okay, yeah. It’s pretty lousy.”

Steve rubs his eyes tiredly. “And that isn’t even the worst part. There I was, pouring syrup over my pancakes, trying to enjoy the fact that my parents are actually home for once, when my asshole of a father tells me that if I don’t have a respectable job by the time I’m twenty, he’ll kick me out. I mean, can you believe that?” 

You suck in a breath. “Steve…”

Richard Harrington is a cruel, awful man. 

While you understand his frustrations towards Steve, it’s completely unreasonable to expect him to get a reputable job in a few short months without any college education. Steve’s right, it had been Richard’s idea to make him work at Scoops Ahoy in the first place. When the mall burned down, he had no other option but to work at Family Video soon after. 

“I’m sorry, honey.” You intertwine your fingers through Steve’s hair and rub your thumb up and down the nape of his neck in a soothing manner. Steve allows the touch, but he’s still tense. Guessing that he’s uncomfortable feeling so pitied, you try to make light of the situation with humor. “But hey, who knows? Maybe you can come live with me in New York if he ends up kicking you out.”

Steve risks a look at you, taking his eyes off the road for a few moments, and his eyes shine. He’s ecstatic over what you’ve just said. He looks like a little kid on Christmas Eve. “You really mean that?”

“Well, I mean…” It had mostly been a joke, a throwaway comment to try and get him to smile. But Steve’s body finally relaxes under your touch and you can’t tell him no. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“You hear that, Robin?” Steve preens, wanting to get her attention. However, when he realizes that she hasn’t been listening to the entire conversation, he makes an offended sound. “Robin, are you listening to me?”

“Uh, yes?” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror, startled that she’s been caught. “You were-uh. Talking to Y/N about your dad. We-we hate him! Yeah, we hate the guy. He really… grinds my gears?”

Steve groans. “We all hate my dad, but that wasn’t what I was talking to you about!”

“Cut me some slack, please. Your relationship with your father is one of labyrinthine complexity–”

You poke your head between the two teens. “Actually, it’s not that complicated.”

Robin covers your mouth with her hand and continues with her rant. “It’s seven in the morning, we have the stupid pep rally, and I woke up looking like a total corpse!” 

“I think you look lovely as always, Robin.” You mumble through the girl’s hand, barely coherent.

Steve, however, isn’t as supportive. “You’re worried about a pep rally? You really expect me to believe that?”

“Yeah, so?” Robin removes her hand from your mouth and goes back to doing her makeup. She’s avoiding the conversation now, which only means that Steve is onto something. Why has she been so obsessed about this week’s pep rally? Robin has been in band for years now, she’s done a million pep rallies during her high school career. It can’t be performing that makes her nervous. 

Which means it has to be about someone. 

Locking eyes with Steve, he seems to be thinking what you are. “I think we all know what this is about, okay? Y/N and I aren’t buying that bullshit.”

“This is about Vickie.” You finish for him, a smirk on your face. For weeks now Vickie has been all Robin has talked about. Her hair, how pretty her smile is, how cute her freckles are. Vickie also happens to be in band with Robin. “C’mon, you can’t tell us we’re wrong.”

“I absolutely can tell you you’re wrong.” Robin denies what you and Steve are implying.

Steve shakes his head. “You know we’re right! And you know what else we think?”

“I really don’t care–”

“Y/N and I think that you gotta stop pretending to be someone else when you’re around her, okay? You just gotta be yourself.”

Robin doesn’t want to hear any of this. At least not from you and Steve. “You guys are biased, you do realize that?”

“What do you mean?” You’re practically laying across Steve’s car console in order to be a part of the conversation. “I think we’re objective people.”

“You’re telling me that all I have to do is be myself and Vickie will want to date me?”

You frown. “Yeah? What’s wrong with that?”

Robin throws her head back. “Because it took Steve months to ask you out. Mind you, this was when you were already in love with the guy! And he knew you were in love with him!”

“Okay, hey–” Steve doesn’t at all like what she’s insinuating. He didn’t necessarily know you were already in love with him, he just… had a small hunch. 

“I’m not done,” Robin holds her hand up. “All Steve had to do was man up and admit his feelings for you. He didn’t have to agonize over whether or not it’d blow up in his face. There was no risk, no danger, no world ending consequences. I mean, if you had rejected him then maybe Steve’s ego would’ve been bruised. But if I ask out the wrong girl? Bam! I’m a town pariah.”

“This is true,” you reluctantly agree. While you could never envision a world where you’d ever say no to Steve, you also recognize that the world where you somehow do wouldn’t be the same world as Robin’s. Things are different for her, whether you like it or not. Robin has to live with this knowledge, and her conversation with you about luck and love from last summer echoes in your mind. 

Steve places a hand on his chest, betrayed. “Whose side are you on, Y/N?”

“True love’s side.”

Robin snorts and Steve doesn’t bother to hide his smile. He wants to tease you for being a hopeless romantic, but now isn’t the time. Instead, he continues the previous conversation. “True love aside, we can’t ignore that Vickie is definitely not the wrong girl.”

“Oh, she definitely isn’t straight.” You agree.

“We don’t know that!” Robin quickly sprays some breath freshener in her mouth and gags, which you cringe at. Vickie is one lucky girl if Robin ever manages to become her girlfriend. 

Steve doesn’t let up, he’s convinced he has it all figured out. “She returned Fast Times paused at fifty-three minutes, five seconds.”

“The bikini scene, mind you.” You butt in, and Steve nods eagerly.

“And you know who pauses Fast Times at fifty-three minutes, five seconds? People who like boobies, Robin!” 

Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–”

“Boobies! It’s not a big deal–”

You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.”

“Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!” 

You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.” 

Robin can’t even look at the two of you, appalled by how many times the word “boobies” has been uttered during the duration of the conversation. You can’t blame her, the word has practically lost all meaning for you as well.

Steve, however, can’t seem to get enough of it. “It’s boobies!” He exclaims again to no one in particular.

You and Robin lock eyes, and then, without saying anything, your hand covers Steve’s mouth while Robin flicks his forehead, effectively putting the boob conversation to an end. 

– 

The moment Steve’s BMW slows in front of the school, Robin throws the door open and rushes out with a quick “see you later!” to you as she runs to follow after her bandmates. Steve waves weakly as she goes and sighs in disappointment.

“She’s never talking to Vickie, is she?”

“Not a chance,” you sigh as well, watching as Robin’s figure disappears in the crowd of students. Spring break looms over the student body, everyone buzzes with excitement over their week of freedom and tonight’s basketball game. The pep rally in just a few short minutes only adds to the exhilaration. Leaning forward, your lips graze against Steve’s. “Anyways, see you tonight?”

He bridges the gap between your lips, skin meets skin and warmth floods your stomach. “Of course, angel. I love you.”

“I love you, too, honey.” And with one last kiss, you exit Steve’s car and make your way towards the school. As always, Steve waits until you’re safely on the sidewalk before he pulls away and heads towards Family Video. He’s started picking up morning shifts to fill the time he isn’t with you.

On your way inside, you see Ms. Kelly talking to Max near the buses. The conversation is short, doesn’t last much longer than a few seconds, and when Max turns away you notice Ms. Kelly’s patient smile drop. Clearly Max still isn’t being cooperative when it comes to their sessions. She promised you she would start trying, but Max Mayfield has always been stubborn and you’ve always been slightly overbearing.

Not the best combination, honestly.

With a sigh, you make a mental note to ask Max about what the counselor talked to her about later. There’s too much going on this morning to focus on it, and you’re already pushing Max by having her attend the pep rally anyways. Originally she had wanted to skip it and hide in the stairwell, but after begging her about it, Max finally agreed.

The conversation can wait. For now, at least she’ll be next to you in the bleachers alongside the boys to cheer on Lucas.

The thought was enough to brighten your mood a little, but it quickly became a pain in the ass to corral the party into sitting together. It took you almost fifteen minutes to find Mike and Dustin in the mass of students heading into the gym. You’re not necessarily sure how it took so goddamn long given the fact that Mike towers over half of the students anyways. He’s grown freakishly tall since starting freshman year. It unnerves you. 

While his towering height annoys you, Mike likes that he can finally, literally, look down on you. 

“There you guys are!” You grab the back of Mike’s shirt and he lets out a startled yelp. Dustin stumbles back as well, and an annoyed sophomore glares at the three of you. Ignoring her, you grab your brother’s shirt and start dragging the two boys towards the bleachers. “Thought we agreed on meeting at the water fountain that squirts water in your face?”

“I thought it was the library?” Dustin gives you an odd look. “Wait, is there even a water fountain in the library?”

“You amaze me.” You remark, not even bothering to answer his question. He listens like a bag of rocks. Mike just allows you to pull him, not at all contributing to the conversation.

Max waits for you in the bleachers. She’s saved you seats, something that you feel slight relief over. The simple gesture is small, but it sparks just enough hope within your chest to make you exhale softly. Hope that she’s getting better. Hope that she’s finally trying again.

Thanking Max, you and the others fill the seats as the gym quickly fills with more and more students until it threatens to overflow. The roar of the crowd is nearly deafening. Across from the bleachers resides the marching band. They’re playing the school’s anthem as the cheerleaders start their routine. Chrissy Cunningham leads them, her smile lovely and beautiful, she shines so brightly upon the crowd that you can’t help but fall in love with her.

In the midst of the cheerleaders’ twists and flips, Robin manages to catch your eye from across the room.

You eagerly wave at her and mime playing the trumpet, copying her movements as she actually plays one. Robin laughs, and next to her is a girl with fiery red hair who laughs as well. She’s pretty, you’ve heard countless sonnets about her red hair and dotted freckles. Knowing the girl is Vickie, you point at her as you wink at Robin, who scoffs and goes back to playing the trumpet. 

Next to you, you catch the tail end of some bizarre conversation between Mike and Dustin.

“Look, I’m not saying that my girlfriend is better than yours.” Dustin is clarifying, glaring at you when he hears your sarcastic snort. “It’s just that Suzie’s, like, a certified genius.”

Mike crosses his arms, looking towards you as if somehow this is all your fault. “Your brother realizes that El saved the world twice, right?”

“Admittedly that is hard to beat,” you shrug. “That, and she has cool powers.”

Dustin points a finger at the two of you. “And yet Mike still has a C in Spanish while you’re barely passing calculus.”

Mike rolls his eyes and you shrug again. Your brother isn’t necessarily wrong either. El’s saved the world, Suzie has saved his GPA. Both are nearly impossible feats. “Touchy subject, but touché.”

“And what can your boyfriend do, Y/N?” Mike asks, now bringing the attention to your love life.

“He’s good with a bat.”

Both Dustin and Mike groan, but you shush them when the school’s broadcaster announces the Tigers basketball team. Applause breaks out across the bleachers and you notice Max looking around for Lucas. Though she tries to hide it, you can see the interest and excitement in her eyes. She’s happy for him, but it breaks your heart that she feels that she can’t show it.

Jason Carver, captain of the basketball team and former Scoops Ahoy patron before Steve spilled ice cream all over his pants, runs out first. The crowd goes wild, but you don’t start cheering until you see Lucas. He’s smiling wide, proud to be a part of the team. You scream as loud as you can for him, he’s come so far since confessing to you about wanting to join the team earlier this year. As Jason starts his speech, dramatic as he always is, Lucas sees you in the bleachers and waves shyly, a blush creeping across his face. Then, seeing Max next to you, his confidence seems to grow as he waves more enthusiastically at her. 

The moment is sweet, it makes you smile. 

Except Max doesn’t wave back. She crosses her arms, pretends she hasn’t seen him, and your smile drops alongside Lucas’. 

You know they’ve been having some trouble recently. With Max pulling away more and more each day, Lucas struggled to hold onto the fading girl. Despite his pleas and reassurances, Max still seems to be icing him out. According to Dustin, they broke up almost a month ago now. 

But they’ve always had a tumultuous relationship, long before nightmares and monsters darkened everything. The news hadn’t worried you at first, you thought it was simply another one of their weekly breakups over something small, innocent. Afterall, they were just kids when they first started dating. Their breakups were always childish, though endearing, and always temporary. 

Now, you’re scared that this time it’s permanent. 

You’re not sure what that means for Max. She already has so few people left in her life to tether her. Billy died, her mother works two jobs and is never home anymore, El is in California, and you and Lucas are breaking skin trying to claw onto whatever small hold you have left of the girl.

Another loud cheer from the crowd breaks you from your thoughts. Jason must’ve just said something important, something worthy enough of a roaring reaction. He’s always been popular in Hawkins, Steve used to complain about him to you back when he was still on the team. But when Steve graduated and Billy died, Hawkins High had needed a new King to crown.

Jason Carver was more than happy to ascend the throne. 

“Chrissy, I love you, babe.” Everyone awes and you see Chrissy blow Jason a kiss. It’s sweet, you suppose. They fit together nicely, head cheerleader with the star of the basketball team, and they seem genuinely happy. Chrissy’s shy and kind demeanor balances Jason’s loud and charismatic boldness. They truly are a good match. 

“I think I can speak for all of us when I say it’s been a tough year for Hawkins.” Jason continues his speech, the room is eerily silent as everyone listens with baited breath. “So much loss…” The gym almost exhales simultaneously, remembering all the people who died last summer.

Your own breath exhales, and beside you Max tenses. Billy’s ghost floats through your minds, in through hers and out through yours. Hopper’s own ghost follows after him, only he doesn’t haunt Max the way he haunts you. He lingers over you, his final words to you engraved into your skin. 

You’re the best of them.

“And sometimes I wonder, how much loss can one community take?”

Enough to fill a mall of burning bodies, you think bitterly. 

Jason paces the gym’s floor now, he almost seems to glow before the crowd. He rambles on about needing something to believe in. That everyone should be doing something to honor all the lives lost in July, that playing basketball can absolve all the despair. As if it can bring them back.

Deep below your ribcage, nestled right underneath your scar and just in front of your stomach, rests a pit of anger that always simmers. You were born with it, it has always followed you. It has grown with you, the anger almost possessed your body when your dad left. Now, hearing Jason recite all the names of the ones who died that Fourth of July, the anger’s low simmer heats into a soft boil. 

You try to quell it. Jason means well, he’s only trying to uplift the community in a passionate, albeit uncomfortably pastor-y way. He’s only doing what he knows best; he’s being a leader. In another life, one where Demogorgons never harmed you, you think you would’ve really admired Jason and his resilience. 

“Think of Billy,” Your breath stills, yet your hand instinctively finds Max’s. She turns away from you, but the room is spinning and you can’t remember how to inhale. But Jason keeps going. “Think about our heroic police chief, Jim Hopper.”

Next to you, in your haze of grief and panic, you think you can feel Mike and Dustin shift uncomfortably. Grief sinks her claws into the kids, and you want nothing more than to puncture Jason’s lungs with them. 

This was supposed to be a pep rally for the Tigers, it was supposed to be joyous, an opportunity to bring Max out of her shell. To distract her from the hell that she calls her life. The entire school knows what happened to Billy, they know that he had a little sister named Max Mayfield.

You hate Jason Carver.

But you’re here for Lucas. Today is about him. He’s finally happy, he’s smiling again. The least you can do is swallow down the anger and grief and hope that you don’t end up choking on them later. That they don’t strangle you in your dreams.

“And now tonight, we’re gonna bring home the championship trophy!” Jason screams into the mic, erupting a volcanic roar from the stadium. People throw paper into the air, whistling and jumping up and down at the prospect of Hawkins High finally winning a championship.

“Tonight?” Dustin’s agonized exclamation causes you to jump. He looks at you, bewildered and panicked. “How is that possible?”

Your heart still hasn’t steadied from the surge of fury Jason evoked. Swallowing once again, you clear your throat and shake your head at your brother. “What, you guys didn’t know about the game tonight?”

“They call it a tournament,” Max explains for you, figuring you need some time to clear your head. You squeeze her hand appreciatively. “You win one game, you go on until there’s only one team left.”

Mike and Dustin exchange frightened looks, and you eye them suspiciously. “Did you guys really not know? I thought Steve explained all of this to you already. Why is it such a big deal, anyways? I mean–wait,” the boys won’t meet your gaze. They avoid facing you, Mike stuffs his hands into his pockets and Dustin pretends to read someone’s poster. 

You know the fearful look on their faces. It’s the same look Dustin gave you this morning when he ditched you to ride with Nancy and Mike. 

Goddamn Eddie Munson. 

“Oh, don’t you guys dare.” They wouldn’t. They wouldn’t fucking dream of missing one of Lucas’ games for a stupid club centered around some guy with enormous ego problems. “I swear to God, if you two skip the game tonight–”

“We won’t! I-I mean… Well. It’s, uh. It’s complicated” Dustin gulps, elbowing his way through the crowd of departing students as the pep rally ends. Mike follows, ready to step in at any moment, while Max slips away before you can stop her. Seeing how contorted your body is from anger, Dustin tries to appease you. “Look, I can’t promise anything, alright? Eddie is… Eddie.”

You’re about to scream some very choice words about that curly haired emo asshole, but Lucas intercepts the group and joins you guys. He looks between you, Mike, and Dustin, sensing some underlying tension. “What about Eddie?”

Mike quickly explains, and the more he talks, the more you want to shove your knives down Eddie’s throat. It’s one night, one goddamn night, and here Mike and Dustin are, almost shitting their pants at the idea of missing one Hellfire meeting to support their friend. While it’s unfortunate that all of this is happening on the same night, and though you recognize how long a campaign can take and how much the game means to the party, for once you can’t bring yourself to understand Dustin’s side. 

A championship game versus one single campaign meeting that can easily be done tomorrow instead.

Seems like a pretty easy decision to you. 

Lucas doesn’t understand why Mike and Dustin are so conflicted either. “I don’t get the big deal.” You’re all outside now, heading towards the main building for your classes. “Just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire to another night.”

You nod, agreeing with him, and Dustin rolls his eyes. “‘Just talk to Eddie.’”

“You can’t be serious right now,” your shoulder brushes harshly against the boy’s. You’re barely containing your anger right now. “Why does Eddie have such a strong hold over you guys? Hasn’t he repeated senior year twice now?”

“Why does that matter?” Mike looks at you as if you’re the scum of the earth that he just so happened to step on. “Why can’t Lucas just talk to his coach and get him to move the game?”

Dustin quips that he thinks Mike’s idea is a great one, but you shove between them and throw your hands in the air in annoyance. “You can’t possibly think that’s the same thing, right? A nationally organized game being postponed for a board game.”

Mike and Dustin both gasp at you, acting as if you’ve just threatened to kill a baby bunny in front of them, which only annoys you more. Sure, maybe you’re being a little mean right now, but you’re not appreciating how they’re treating Lucas. He’s never done anything to warrant this blatant disrespect from them. They’re refusing to see his side, too lost in their Eddie induced high. 

“DnD isn’t just a board game, Y/N! I’m honestly disappointed that you of all people would even say that. You’ve seen the intricacies of a campaign. You know I’ve spent all month now preparing for the end of Eddie’s campaign!” Dustin waves his hands in front of him, he’s in his own ecstasy of anger and annoyance, something innate in the Henderson bloodline. “A semester of adventuring has led to this moment, and we need Lucas.”

“Yeah, and the Tigers don’t.” Mike looks over at Lucas. “I mean, no offense, but you’ve been on the bench all year–shit!”

You swat the back of Mike’s head, the sound of his yelp satisfying and the sting of the hit soothes you. He looks at you, offended, and you just shake your head at him. “No, that was out of line and you know it.”

“One day I’m gonna be too tall for you to hit me, you know.” Mike scowls at you as he rubs his head. 

“And I’ll mourn the day when that happens,” you respond dryly before pointing at Lucas. “Now, apologize to him before I hit you again.”

Lucas lowers your finger and shakes his head. “It’s fine, Y/N. Me being on the bench isn’t the point, anyways.”

“Please, arrive at the point.” Your brother drops his head back and closes his eyes. He’s tired, he regrets even starting this conversation in the first place. The more the four of you talk, the angrier he can feel you become. Mike’s head may now be sore, but Dustin lives with you. If anyone here is in danger of your lecturing, it’s him.

“If I get in good with these guys, I’ll be in the popular crowd, and then you guys will be too.” Lucas explains, looking between Dustin and Mike as he urges them to understand, but they don’t. Mike claims that they don’t want to be popular, something that Lucas doesn’t believe. “What, you wanna be stuck with the nerds and freaks for three more years?”

“We are nerds and freaks!” Dustin exclaims, causing a few students in the hall to look at you guys. You wave at them awkwardly, you’re starting to regret following the boys. This conversation feels personal, like you shouldn’t be intruding. Though you think Lucas has every right to want a good high school experience, you also think Mike and Dustin deserve to have their own experiences as well. If they don’t want to be popular, then that’s their decision just as much as it’s Lucas’ to want to be. 

You step between the three boys, finally getting their attention. “Guys, no one here is necessarily right or wrong. Lucas has every right to want to be a part of the basketball crowd, and you two,” you raise your eyebrows at Mike and Dustin, “have every right to want to stick with Eddie’s crowd.”

Dustin sighs, “thanks, Y/N–”

“I’m not finished,” you hold a hand up and shush your brother. “What isn’t right, however, is abandoning one another. You guys are friends, and right now Lucas wants you at his game tonight to support him. Tonight is special, everyone will be there, and I want you guys there as well. I know high school is hard, but it’s even harder when you’re alone.”

“Says the girl who is adored by everyone in this shitty town.” Mike huffs, he can’t believe how hypocritical you’re being. “You’ve never had to deal with what we do. No one has ever laughed at you or tried to make you jump off a cliff just because you’re different.”

You clench your jaw. Dustin looks at you wearily, he doesn’t like what Mike is saying, but he also can’t help but agree with his friend. You haven’t ever been bullied. All your life you’ve blended in, stood out only when you were kind to others, admired for your selflessness, but never enough to be invited to parties or dumped behind a dumpster.

“Mike…” Your brother tries to pull him away from you, but you both stand your ground.

“You’re right, Wheeler. I don’t know what it’s like.” You stare up at the boy, and Mike’s expression softens only slightly. He’s just as stubborn as you are, it’s why the two of you admire the other so much. “But you forget that I’m Jonathan’s best friend. The creep, the loser, the psychopath. Kids may not have ever targeted me, but I’ve seen what they do to the people they hate.”

All the times you had to ice Jonathan’s bruised face. The nights you spent in his room holding him as he cried because Lonnie’s fists and Tommy’s cruel words were too much. The sneers, the stares Jonathan received because he was different. Quiet. Being your best friend hadn’t lessened the blows. 

For years you wish you could’ve done more for Jonathan. Now, presented with Lucas’ opportunity to befriend the crowd that once was so cruel to your friend, you refuse to lose it. “That’s why I don’t want Lucas skipping the game tonight.”

It’s silent for a few moments, all three boys don’t know what to say. Taking a deep breath, Lucas stands beside you and breaks the silence. “We came to high school wanting things to be different, right? Now we have that chance. Like Y/N said, if I skip tonight, that’s all out the window. So I’m asking you guys, as a friend, just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire.”

Lucas pauses, he wets his lips and looks between his friends again. He feels so small, pleading for their attention. “Come to my game. Please.”

The bell rings, ending the conversation, and Lucas spares one last look at Dustin and Mike before mumbling a soft goodbye to you. He leaves you alone with the boys, who in turn mirror conflicted expressions. 

“Shit!” Dustin kicks his foot out and looks at you. “This is all your fault, you know that?”

“What is?”

“Me having empathy. I hate this. Why couldn’t you have raised me to be an asshole?”

You snort at Dustin before pulling him into a weak hug. You only have a few more minutes before you need to get to class, you can’t stay very long, but you also don’t want to leave the boys without some semblance of comfort. “You’re too charming to be an asshole. Just… Come to the game, alright? Both of you. I’ll even make brownies if I have to. I just-I’ve missed you guys. This will be good for all of us.”

Mike ducks his head and Dustin sighs once more. Neither want to say anything else, so you reluctantly release your brother and leave them alone to wallow in their self-created misery. 

They’ll do the right thing. You’re sure of it.

– 

Lunch comes and Alex sits next to you. He started sitting with you at lunch just after winter break, and you’re endlessly grateful for him. You’re no longer alone, and he’s good company. A part of you regrets that it took the two of you three years to grow your friendship outside of Bookstrorindary. 

You’ll miss him when you graduate. 

Max is with Ms. Kelly today, a change in their usual meeting schedule of Tuesdays and Thursdays, meaning you had been right. She did skip their meeting yesterday and the counselor had to corner her this morning to schedule another one. 

“Be honest, how excited are you to move to New York this summer?” Alex asks you, taking a bite out of his carrot stick. You’ve come to learn that he has a weird obsession with the vegetable, always packing at least twelve of them every day. 

You pick at your own lunch, a wilted salad and sandwich your mom left for you this morning. “Honestly? It hasn’t really hit me yet. I mean, I only got in last week. I think my mind is still trying to catch up with reality.”

“Oh, c’mon. You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little excited.”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh and nudge the boy. “I’m a little excited. I just.. Haven’t really had time to think too much about it, you know? Between work, my brother, Steve, the kids, and…”

“Jonathan?” Alex finishes for you. He’s the only one who knows about how distant Jonathan has been. You’ve confided in him about how worried you are, about the phone calls while he’s high and the way Jonathan’s voice no longer sounds like his. 

You shove your lunch away, no longer hungry. “Yeah.”

“You guys call every Friday, right? Maybe tonight will be different!” Alex tries to cut through the tension that now corrodes your demeanor, which you smile at him gratefully for. 

“Yeah, who knows.” A piece of hair falls in your face and you push it behind your ear. Picking up your fork again, you attempt to finish your meal, but a sudden commotion interrupts the low buzz in the lunchroom. 

“As long as you’re into band, or science, or parties.” Eddie Munson sneers from the cafeteria table he’s standing on. He looks around the room as if everyone else is beneath him. Not worth his time just because they enjoy different things. Looking at Alex, you both sigh and prepare for whatever Eddie has to say today. His voice grows louder, shouting across the room towards the basketball team’s table. “Or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!”

Jason stands up and a few students whoop and cheer. “You want something, freak?”

Eddie sticks to fingers up behind his head as he creates little devil horns, snarling with his tongue out and hissing. Jason grimaces, you do too. 

“He’s a little much, isn’t he?” You say to Alex, relieved when Eddie starts to step down from the table. 

“He terrifies me.” Alex breathes out, not taking his eyes off Eddie in fear he’ll somehow cast a spell on him.

You laugh at your friend’s unnecessary fear. Eddie is harmless, Hellfire isn’t a demonic cult like some students at Hawkins seem to think. It really is just a club centered around a board game with impressive storytelling and detailed plotlines. From what Dustin has told you, Eddie truly is the best dungeon master in Indiana. 

And while you believe him, you can’t wrap your head around why your brother idolizes Eddie so much. The fascination runs deeper than just DnD. Dustin has spent almost every day of his freshman year wrapped around Eddie’s finger. He spends all his time with the teen now, rarely with you, but you’re not bitter. Of course you’re not. Dustin can have his own friends, you know this, but you also feel so… unneeded. 

Your little brother doesn’t need you anymore, and it’s a hard pill to swallow.

Truthfully, Alex’s question earlier about moving to New York in the summer sparked more than just your usual anxiety over Jonathan. It also reminded you that in only a few short months you’ll be in an entirely new state, a new city, far away from Dustin. 

“Y/N!” Dustin flies into the seat next to you, nearly upending the table itself with how violently he throws himself down.

Alex shrieks and you steady the table before anything can fall. Heart pounding, you clutch at your chest as your nerves settle. “Why must you always be so violent?”

“Because it’s fun,” Dustin responds, not even bothering to acknowledge Alex’s presence. Instead, his eyes are only on you, and there’s a crazed spark in them. He’s breathing heavily, frantic, and you dread where this is going. “Look, I need to ask you a huge favor.”

“Do you realize that this is the first time you’ve sat with me at lunch since the first day?”

He winces. “And I will repent every day for my horrendous sins. I promise, I just–Jesus you’re terrifying when you don’t blink.” Dustin removes his hat to fix his hair, a nervous tick of his. He’s stalling, he should’ve never come here. Gulping, he rips the band aid off. “I need you to sub for Lucas tonight.”

“I’m sorry?” You’re giving him an out, one chance to back down before you strangle him.

Only Dustin tightens the noose even more. “Please, Y/N! Eddie won’t move the campaign. He said something about sheep and-and finding subs because Mike and I are, uh. I guess the future of Hellfire and he needs us and did I mention how important this campaign is? It’s super cool, super gory and totally up your alley and–”

“No.”

“N-no?” Dustin practically deflates in front of you, the light in his eyes dies. 

You shove him away from you, you don’t want to look at his pathetic pouting. You’re so unbelievably hurt right now, so fucking infuriated. “You have spent every goddamn waking hour ass kissing Eddie. You haven’t so much as looked at me during lunch this entire year as if I’m a fucking plague. You’ve canceled plans, you’re hardly ever home, and now you expect me to abandon Lucas, someone who has spent time with me this year, someone who has made this entire year less lonely for me. Something, by the way, that you haven’t even noticed, all because you finally need me?”

Dustin’s mouth opens and closes, he doesn’t know what to say, but for once you don’t care. How could he possibly think you’d miss Lucas’ game tonight? You adore the boys, each and every one of them, and now Dustin expects you to just abandon one of them for the others? 

“You’re only here because it’s convenient for you.” You hiss, venom pouring from your voice. “For Eddie.” 

“Y/N…” Dustin’s voice breaks, he sounds like a little kid again, the baby brother you doted on your entire life. “Please.”

“No!” You scream at him. 

The word echoes throughout the cafeteria. A few students turn to you, some curious, some annoyed. Alex draws into himself, wishing he were anywhere but here right now. Dustin’s eyes widen, his skin pales, and you clamp your hand over your mouth, completely and utterly mortified. 

You’ve never, ever yelled at Dustin like this before. Not with so much malice, vitriol. 

You feel like you’re twelve again, your anger hurting your baby brother. 

Red hot with embarrassment and shame, you quickly get up from the table and flee the cafeteria. Dustin calls after you, but you stumble through the hallway towards the nearest bathroom. Tears burn your eyes, guilt wracks your body in painful thuds. 

By the time you lock yourself in the bathroom’s stall, your sobs have begun to claw their way out of your throat. Pressing your back against the wall, you sink to the ground and pull your knees into your chest as you finally allow yourself to cry.

Abandonment makes you cruel. Your father taught you that.

– 

You don’t see Dustin for the rest of the day. He’s missing Lucas’ game and you’re angry with him for that, but you also feel such an intense guilt over your outburst. You can’t stomach the thought of seeing him. 

School ends and Steve drives you to work. The shift will be a short one due to the championship game, and Steve is staying with you so that you can drive to the game together. However, the moment you get into his car, he notices the dried tears on your face and the redness in your eyes and immediately throws his arms around you. In between shaky breaths and cries, you explain what happened to Steve.

He soothes you, tells you that you can always talk to Dustin after tonight’s game. Right now you and your brother need space from one another, and you hate that Steve’s right. You’ll force Dustin into a code blue, you’re long overdue for one, anyways. He’s been acting weird for weeks now. Someone has to give in, you know this, and if it has to be you then you’ll do anything to get your brother back. 

For now, Steve holds your hand as he guides you through the crowd of people in the bleachers. They all cheer for Hawkins High, the energy in the gym is electric. Faces are painted, cheerleaders wave their pom-poms, and you’re wearing Steve’s old Tigers jersey. You’re not much for school spirit, but Steve almost crashed the car when he realized you were wearing the jersey, and you know Lucas will appreciate it too.

“Y/N, over here.” Steve’s hand falls onto the small of your back as he gently pushes you towards some open seats he’s found. You lean into his touch and sit beside him. With his body against yours, you try to immerse yourself in the joy from the crowd. 

The entire town is here tonight. Everyone is smiling, kids laugh and parents wave posters for their sons. Tonight will be a good night, you’ve decided this to be true. 

The national anthem is announced and everyone rises in their seats. When the broadcaster announces that Tammy Thompson will be singing, you and Steve look at each other incredulously. Laughter rises within you and you cackle when Robin finds the two of you in the crowd. There’s no way this won’t end in disaster. 

Tammy walks out, wearing a horrendous faux cowboy outfit, and almost immediately sings off-key. You cringe, ears stinging from the attack, and try desperately not to let out any laughter as she continues to butcher the song. 

Steve whispers over to Robin, “told you. Muppet.”

“Okay, she does sound like a muppet.” Robin agrees, which only makes it harder to contain your giggles. Tammy is worse than a muppet, she sounds like a goddamn muppet that broke into her dad’s alcohol stash. 

“You sound better, angel.” Steve whispers into your ear, breath warm against your skin. 

You lean back against him and smile sarcastically. “Anyone can sound better than her.”

Steve chuckles and you can’t help but join him. You know it’s rude, that Tammy is honestly not that bad, though definitely not good enough for Nashville, but you can’t help it. You can’t believe Robin ever had such a huge crush on the girl who now drones the national anthem like a dying parrot. 

In between breaths of laughter, you see Lucas looking up at the bleachers. His face is grim, he doesn’t see Mike or Dustin or Max. None of his friends showed up, and you watch him with sympathy. You can’t believe them. 

But then Lucas sees you, and he gives you a weak smile. Your attendance isn’t enough, you know it isn’t, but you hold up the poster you made for him and he laughs despite himself. 

The game starts, and from the moment the whistle is blown, it’s intense. The Tigers are neck and neck with the Falcons. Steve tries to explain what’s happening throughout the game, but it all goes over your head. The energy in the room is intoxicating, though. You lean forward in your seat, you cheer when everyone else does, boo when you think you should.

“Carver just loves hogging the spotlight, doesn’t he?” Steve says with disdain as he watches Jason side sweep his teammates to score. 

You poke his side, you know he’s only saying this because he’s still bitter that Jaosn tried asking you out last summer. “Honey, your jealousy is showing.” 

Steve tries to deny this, but then a player gets injured during a foul from Falcon, causing you and Steve to both spew insults at the player. You have no idea what the foul even is, but you’re enjoying the chaos of the game.

In the midst of your uproar, you almost miss Lucas being sent into the game. You slap Steve’s chest repeatedly to get his attention, you almost don’t believe what you’re seeing. “Steve! Is that–”

“Sinclair!” He whoops, but he quickly scrambles to catch you as you nearly throw yourself off the bleachers in your blind excitement cheering. You’re screaming your head off, hardly even registering Steve’s hands on your waist. You’re incoherent and ecstatic, drunk on adrenaline. 

Lucas is playing.

The game only gets more brutal from there. The points even out, both teams neck and neck. Anxious, you squeeze Steve’s hand with anticipation. Everything happens so fast, Lucas plays so naturally with the others, as if he was born to be there. 

“Go, Tigers!” You jump up and down as Lucas runs after Jason. They’re doing a new play, attempting to score the tie breaker. Jason shoots, the ball hits off the backboard and onto the rim. Your breath catches, there’s only three seconds left on the clock. The ball falls, and there isn’t any time left.

Until Lucas catches the missed shot. He dribbles the ball, you clutch Steve’s hand, neither one of you utters a single word as Lucas makes the final shot. It’s an all or nothing throw, a risk, but he takes it anyways. The ball soars through the air, hits the rim. The buzzer sounds, the game is over, and the ball spins around the rim before finally sinking through the net.

Your chest burns as you violently cheer, Steve flings himself into your arms. You’re both jumping around, screaming together like little kids. “Hey did it!” You scream, and Steve shakes you in his arms with the biggest smile on his face.

“Sinclair did it!”

Down below, Lucas’ face lights up as the crowd goes wild for him. This is the happiest you’ve seen the kid in so long. The entire basketball team swarms Lucas, they lift him into the air and you cheer alongside them.

Steve tells you he’ll go warm the car up and you practically run outside to find Lucas as soon as the game is done. Your body buzzes, you’re still breathless with exhilaration. When you find Lucas, he’s just left the crowd of teenage boys. Wanting to surprise him, you creep up slowly before throwing your arms from behind him. “There’s the star!”

He stumbles from your weight, but he knows it’s you. Laughing, he turns around and you pull him into a bone crushing hug. “You came!”

“Of course I did, you moron!” You giggle, pulling away to straighten his jacket. “I made you a poster and everything.”

Lucas looks down at the poster that hangs by your side. His eyes light up, he remembers seeing it in the stands at the beginning of the game, but he hadn’t been able to read it from so far away. “Can I see it?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t want to see it.” You unroll the poster and present it with a grand flourish. “Tada!” 

Sin to win, Sinclair!

You’re incredibly proud of the wordplay, and Lucas chuckles. It’s good, he has to admit. You’ve left no white space on the poster, littering with small 8’s for his jersey and millions of small stickers and decorations. The poster was made with love, and Lucas knows you spent hours making it.

“I love it, Y/N.” He does. It will hang on his wall as soon as he gets home.

You beam at him. Then, from behind you, you hear your brother’s own cheers as a door opens. Lucas’ smile fades, hurt creeps upon his face. Frowning, you turn and find Dustin and Mike high fiving their Hellfire friends as they all celebrate the end of their campaign. Erica is with them, cheering with everyone else. 

“Lucas…” Your breath gives out. He doesn’t deserve this. Tonight was supposed to be his night. You turn to him, wracking your brain to try and figure out what you’re even supposed to say at this moment. Fifty feet away Lucas’ close friends are celebrating a night without him, his sister overjoyed as well. They’ve forgotten about him.

For once, you can’t find the right words to say.

“Thanks for the poster, Y/N.” Lucas doesn’t want your sympathy. He leaves, crestfallen, and you’re left standing alone holding the poster he had been praising seconds ago. The late March air chills your bones. 

You’ve never been so disappointed in your brother before.

– 

Steve drives you home and you’re silent the entire time. 

“Dustin isn’t a bad kid, Y/N. You know that.” Steve tries to reason with you, but what your brother has done tonight leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. “I’m sure by tomorrow he’ll realize he was a jerk and apologize. He always does, he’s just being a stupid teen boy right now.”

You face the window, watching the trees fading into the distance. You know Steve is right, you know that Dustin is still growing up, making mistakes. Hell, no one is perfect at fifteen. When you were his age you were falling in love with your best friend as you hunted monsters together. Neither you or Jonathan or Nancy knew what the hell you guys were doing back then.

But this is different. Dustin has never betrayed his friends like this before. He, out of all of them, should understand the pain of being left behind. He spent half the summer upset that the party ditched him, and now he’s ditching Lucas?

“You know, I used to be a stupid teen boy.” Steve says, trying again to get you to say something. To look at him, at least.

It works, a small smile turns your lips. “I never knew.”

He laughs at the sarcasm in your voice, but he plays along anyways. “Oh, I totally was. I just hid it really well by, you know, making you hate me for a while by being annoying. But hey, look at me now! I’m still annoying, but at least I have it all figured out with you.”

“And what do you have figured out, honey?” You turn your head towards him, watch the street lamps illuminate his face.

Steve smiles. “Us. Our future. Sure, I may not know if I’ll ever get a better job, but I’m sure as shit staying with you, starting a life together so that I can annoy you for all eternity.”

“How romantic,” a giggle falls from your lips. You’ve been with Steve for nearly a year now, but you haven’t really talked about the future yet. At least not so intimately, with so much assurance that in the end it’ll be the two of you. “And where will we live, Romeo?”

“New York, obviously. As soon as you graduate, we’ll find some horrible, run down apartment that’s barely big enough for two people. We’ll move in, but there won’t be any air conditioning so we’ll almost murder each other in the heat. Everyone will hate the place, but we’ll love it.”

As Steve talks, the smile that had once been on your face begins to fade. He rambles on, not noticing the shift. He dreams up the plans, how he’ll stay home while you go to class. How he’ll fix the leaky faucet that will inevitably annoy everyone. Steve envisions himself waiting for you to come home after a long day of classes and falling into his arms. 

“Steve–” But he doesn’t hear you. He’s busy explaining how he’ll probably have to sell his car to afford the apartment, but that he doesn’t care, and you feel sick. It’s too much, he’s giving up too much. He’s willing to give up his entire life for you, drop everything and follow you without any questions asked. 

It’s what your mother did for your father. They met in college, both attending Purdue. Their relationship had been a whirlwind. Love at first sight, married as soon as they graduated, your father convinced your mom to follow him back to Virginia. To abandon her family and move two states over while pregnant with you. She didn’t know anyone in Virginia, her father moved them to a small town where only his name was known. 

The divorce that followed twelve years later ruined your mother’s life. She had been left all alone, no family to support her, no friends, in a state she never grew up in.

And now Steve wants to do the same for you.

Raising your voice slightly, you try to interrupt him again. “Steve!”

“What?” He looks over at you, words finally dying. “Do you want to keep the car?”

“You… you can’t.” 

Steve frowns. “I can’t what?”

Your hands shake. Your heart trembles. Your words die in your throat. There’s so much you want to say, you can feel the pit in your stomach build into a fist. You can’t let Steve do this. He doesn’t understand that he deserves more than this. “You-you can’t come to New York.”

Everything stills. You don’t dare to breathe, to disrupt the silence. Your words come out all wrong, you know they do, but they’re out in the open and Steve doesn’t look at you as he pulls into your driveway. Silent, he turns the car’s engine off.

“Y/N…” Steve still can’t look at you. He places his hands on the steering wheel, as if bracing himself for whatever will unfold tonight. He’s scared, he doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong. His mind flashes, and for a brief second he’s back at the Halloween party and you’re Nancy in his passenger seat. “Do you not see a future with me?”

“I do!” You sit up in your seat, reach over to touch Steve’s thigh. You need to feel him, to ground yourself to him. Everything about this feels wrong. As if you’re hanging over the edge of a chasm with a long, long fall. “God, of course I see a future with you, I just-this isn’t what you really want.”

Steve doesn’t want to move to New York, even if he doesn’t realize it now. What he’s really doing is chasing after a dream that isn’t his. The timing of this is off, he fought with his dad this morning about a future he was unsure of. You know Steve, maybe even better than he knows himself; he’s not doing it for your relationship or out of love. Steve only wants to appease his father, fulfill whatever desire he thinks you have. This isn’t what he wants, and he’s worked too hard to build the life he has now, without you, to simply throw it all away.

But he can’t see that right now.

“Of course this is what I want, Y/N! All I want is you.” Steve finally looks at you, but there’s a hardness in his eyes. He’s detaching himself from you, putting his walls up. “You and me, that’s what I want.”

You grab his hand, you try to keep your voice calm. “Steve, I love you so, so much, but I can’t-I can’t let you give everything up for me. Your life is here, in Hawkins. You have a job, you have your friends and-and your family, and it wouldn’t be fair to either one of us if you abandon it for me. You could-you could resent me for it later, you could realize you hate our life and wish you never followed me and–”

“Y/N, what did you think was going to happen when you were applying to all those colleges?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, he thought you were beside him this whole time. He assumed you’d been carving out the same future he had been. But he was wrong. “Did you really think I’d just stay behind and wait for you to come home every break?”

“I…” Shamefully, you hadn't been considering what would happen between you and Steve. In your mind, he was your future, he was in it, but the details were hazy. You weren’t sure how, or why, or when, but you knew that in the end, Steve was the person you’d spend forever with. 

Steve takes your hesitancy as his answer. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Steve–”

“You were just going to leave me.”

He tears his hand from yours and you blink back tears. You’ve never fought with him before, not like this. “I wasn’t just going to leave you! I just-Steve, please just listen!”

“I am, Y/N!” Steve exclaims, voice reverberating the car. You flinch away, and he immediately lowers his voice, apologetic. He hadn’t meant to scare you, he hadn’t meant to make you cry. Ashamed, Steve turns away from you. “I-I’m sorry.” 

He wants to wipe the tears he’s caused, but selfishly he also wants you to hurt like he’s hurting. You don’t see a future with Steve. You were going to leave him just like everyone else does. 

Steve should’ve known all of this was too good to be true. 

“I love you,” your voice is almost inaudible, the three words barely reach the light before they disappear into the dark night. You’re not sure why you say them, the words had built in your chest, the pressure heavy, and you needed to release them. To remind Steve of your oath to him. 

Silence fills the car. Steve doesn’t look at you, his shoulders are drawn together. His jaw clenches and you know he’s trying desperately to bite his tongue, withholding the cruel words that only heartbreak can provoke. 

“Honey,” you beg him to say something, anything. “Steve.”

“I think you should go.”

The dismissal punches your throat, knocks the wind out of you. He’s shutting you out, closing himself off from you, and you don’t understand how the two of you got here. “I… Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Steve’s words are cool, composed. Indifferent, almost. He still doesn’t look at you, his eyes remain focused on something in your driveway. “It’s late, you should get some sleep.”

“Okay,” you don’t want to leave, you know it isn’t good to go to bed angry with the one you love. Anger should never simmer, it should never be left unwatched. But Steve is silently asking you to give him space so that he can hurt, and you aren’t selfish enough to deny his request. And yet you’re selfish enough to press your lips to Steve’s cheek, but he doesn’t lean in like how normally does. Instead, he remains stoic, and you swallow down your tears and open the door to leave. “Drive home safe, honey.”

Steve doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he starts the car as soon as the door is closed and drives away. He doesn't look back, he doesn’t wait to see if you’ve made it inside your house safely. 

Tears spill down your face as you blindly walk towards your front door. Your argument with Steve replays over and over again in your head. You analyze every second, every word, you try to understand when everything fell apart. 

It’s dark in your home, your mother is asleep and Dustin’s door is closed, but right now all you want is your brother. You need to talk to him, cry into his shoulder and smell the shampoo he’s used ever since he was a baby. Your feet carry you to Dustin’s room and you pound on his door, begging him to let you in. You don’t bother masking the tears in your voice, you’re too exhausted to hide them from him. “Dustin, please let me in.”

“Go away!” There’s a thud on the door, he’s thrown something at it to shut you up. He doesn’t want to hear some stupid lecture right now. He knows he was an asshole tonight, he regrets it, but right now all Dustin wants to do is sleep. He’ll deal with you tomorrow. 

“Code blue,” you press your forehead against the door, your tears fall to the ground. “C-code blue.” Your voice hiccups, more tears come, minutes pass, and your brother never answers.

For the first time since you were kids, Dustin rejects your request for a code blue. 

The phone rings. The sound pierces through your ears, cuts through the headache that is starting to form. It’s Friday night. Jonathan is calling. 

Squeezing your eyes shut as you head pounds, you inhale shakily. You have to answer him, otherwise he’ll only call over and over again with concern. You’ve never missed a phone call, not once in the months since Jonathan has moved, but tonight you’re exhausted. 

“Can we call tomorrow?” You’re too tired to greet him and voice cracks, revealing far too much already.

“Bug?” Jonathan’s high, he’s always high. And yet even in his cloudy haze of smoke he can hear the anguish in your voice. “Is everythin’ okay?”

His question only makes you cry more. You’ve always tried your best to put up a front for others, to pretend that everything is okay. You’ve never wanted to worry people, you’ve always pushed aside your own hurt for the sake of others. Now, as anger and grief and despair clasp their hands around your throat, you’re terrified you’ll suffocate. 

You’ve never been able to lie to Jonathan, and tonight you don’t think you can. “I’ve had… the worst night.” You confess to him, wiping away tears.

You tell him everything, your fight with Dustin, how you think he may resent you leaving for college. You tell Jonathan about Lucas, how you were so disappointed in Dustin and Mike. Choking through tears, you explain to Jonathan your fight with Steve. How your words failed you, how hurt he looked, that you can’t explain to him how he only wants his future to align with yours, but not with your relationship. 

Even though you know that Jonathan won’t remember any of this tomorrow, for once you’re grateful that he’s too high to remember anything. It feels good just being able to say it all out loud. 

“‘M sorry, bug.” Jonathan mumbles over the phone once you’ve finished explaining everything. He sounds far away, figuratively and literally. You can’t imagine how much his drugged mind retained, but you’re thankful to have gotten it all off your chest anyways. 

“It’s fine,” you inhale again, you’ve finally stopped crying, though your chest still hurts and your head still pounds. “Steve and I… We’ll figure it out.”

Jonathan pauses, and for a moment you think he’s fallen asleep, but then his voice floats through the telephone line. “Do you.. Do you ever wonder if we’ve made a mistake?”

He strings his words slowly together, says them one by one with a hesitancy, and you frown. You don’t understand what he’s trying to say. What mistakes could you have made together? “What do you mean, bee?”

“I just… everythin’ is so hard. With Nance. Feel like… like ‘m never enough for her. And you, Steve. ‘S hard between you guys.” Jonathan’s words slur, he’s almost too incoherent to understand, and later you will wish that you hadn’t been able to understand him at all. “But you ‘n me? ‘S easy. Always so easy.”

His words toe the line between you, he can’t mean any of it. You don’t want him to mean any of it, because then the fallout would be too catastrophic to contain.

He’s Jonathan. Your oldest, dearest friend. Your best friend. Years ago, you could’ve been something more, you almost were something more, but the time has passed. 

You’re with Steve now, you’re happy and so, so in love with him. Even though everything is tangled between you right now, even though you’re fighting, you know that you and Steve will figure it out. He’s the one. He’s the man you want to marry one day, if he’ll allow you to. 

Jonathan is your past, Steve is your future, and right now you’re terrified that soon you’ll lose them both.

“Jonathan,” you finally say, his name now heavy on your tongue. It feels like you’re betraying someone while saying his name, but you need to end this conversation. Before Jonathan says something he’ll regret in the morning. “You love Nancy, I love Steve, and you need to go to sleep.”

“Love you,” Jonathan’s words slur even more, his voice drifting off. “You, always you…”

You slam the phone done, ending the call, as a chill runs down your spine. Silence encases you, the house is still. The strings and threads from years ago constrict around your throat. You choke on the lines Jonathan has crossed tonight, the tightness in your head stabs against your skull. 

There is no one to hear you, no one there to hear your final words to your best friend. “Goodbye, Jonathan.”

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ i am no longer doing a taglist, my apologies ! however, please feel free to like, reblog, and comment instead :)

[yourheart-inmyhands]

My brain is acting up again 😭

Yan! Diluc, Zhongli (I swear I love this man) and Dottore having a conversation with their darling and out of nowhere they spill facts about how to hide a body or make it decompose faster.

If they ask how they know they just chuckle and continue their conversation.

They got it from Reddit fr 💀

- Weird anon ✨

ah i am also obsessed with death and decomposition, with a good mix of anatomy, though i try to avoid just finding random facts, i buy textbooks and research books about the topics to further my knowledge on the subjects :3c

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including obsessive behaviors, mentions of violence, lots of talk about death and facts about death, creepy behavior, as well as other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Diluc:

He finds it amusing at first, not really commenting on it and simply letting it be. Soon enough though he starts sharing facts of his own, making minor corrections or suggestions to the ones you bring up. Sometimes he even adds on to what you already have, changing the course of the conversation momentarily.

It’s not talked about often but Diluc is no longer allowed in Snezhnaya for a reason, he’s seen more than his fair share of bloodshed and has no problem offering you better suggestions than what you previously thought to be best. 

He makes a little game out of it, even going as far as to offer to test your claims. Diluc doesn’t see the harm in it, if anything he’s merely indulging in your interests, bonding with you over it. Strange as it is, he thinks it’s fun.

“Did you know the main reason why corpses smell so bad is because when people die, their bladder empties out?” Diluc chuckles at your question, the conversation shifting from possible dinner options to that of death was nothing new to him, yet it never failed to amuse him. “I did. Did you know it’s because when you die every muscle in your body relaxes, which means anything in your bowels is emptied out, no longer held back?” A bit of a tangent never hurts, especially not when it comes to a topic you seem so sporadically fascinated with. Diluc could sit here and watch you talk about this endlessly, the way your face suddenly lights up as you blurt out a random, off-topic fact. It was like seeing a kid walk into a candy store.

Zhongli:

Zhongli takes it a bit too seriously, often correcting you on common misconceptions or myths. He’s still lighthearted about it, but he doesn’t want his beloved darling to be in the wrong about this kind of thing.

He’d hate to see your spirit crushed by someone else, their offense to the sudden topic change springing up as a rebuttal. He’s simply protecting you this way, making sure that no one can challenge anything you say.

All his knowledge doesn’t come from nowhere though, so do keep that in mind should you ever try to challenge him on anything. Not only has he lived far longer than you, but he and his spear have seen, and done, many things

“Zhongli! Did you know that after death, your hair and fingers still grow for a short period of time?” Pausing mid-explanation, Zhongli processes what you said before smiling fondly at you. “No, my gem, they do not. It is actually the skin shrinking back from loss of moisture. That movement of the skin gives the appearance of the nails and hair growing.” Zhongli doesn’t falter even the slightest in his correction, merely stating it as if it were common knowledge, which it ought to be. This is a fairly common occurrence, with your little interruptions being met with either encouragement from Zhongli, or simply corrections.

Dottore:

He’s probably the worst to bring this up around as he likes to make a competition out of it, going back and forth about gruesome facts until one or the other caves.

Not only has Dottore learned a lot about death, but he’s been responsible for just as many. His knowledge far extends past the random facts you collect.

It’s not surprising that Dottore knows more than you, he never holds it against you though. Every time he wins a little bit of the banter between the two of you he sees it as a win for both of you. You get more facts and he gets to assert his position of higher power over you.

“Rigor mortis occurs 6-12 hours after a death but can last 18-36 hours before the body returns to being soft and floppy.” Dottore doesn’t even falter as you shift the conversation, easily following your lead. “Suffocation is more than just a painful way to die. Oftentimes victims of suffocations will try to free or save themselves to no avail as their limbs will cease function, this is because their brain is trying to preserve oxygen which leads to them being unable to free themself and dying.” The smile on his face is only a few inches wider than normal, his eyes twinkling with the same challenging shine that always comes through when you bring up death. If you weren’t well aware of his affections for you, you’d almost believe he loved talking about death more than he loved you.

[ghouldump]

I have been thinking about young doctor reader whos first reaction to seeing her one night stand admit he his a vampire is to ask if she can study him and do a couple of tests on him

I imagine this to be a lestat vibe yk? He would love the attention and strange admiration of his new weird beloved, while trying to keep her eyes always on him

"so are there others like you?"

"no by beloved, i am plenty enough to please"

Or maybe armand because he wants to be somebodys person in desperate way and i feel like he would manipulate her into staying in his life and be his eternal companion

Sorry if this was weird 😅

002

i couldn’t decide 😂 this is super short and straight to the point

LESTAT DE LIONCOURT

Lestat would take advantage of the opportunity BUT not nearly as extreme as Armand and he has to be really into you - which, luckily he was. You had just moved back home to New Orleans, after living in Texas for a few years, since finishing your residency.

As soon as your relatives and old friends hear about you being back in the lively city, you are invited out instantly. At one of the many parties, he noticed you, dancing with a few friends, you caught everyone’s attention with how festive you were.

He stared from afar and one of your multiple friends told you that he was looking. Encouraging you to approach him, he could hear their annoying giggling as you walked up. However, he also noticed how more beautiful you were as you approached.

“It isn't polite to stare and not say hello, you know,” you told him, as he smirked.

“I was simply enjoying the view”

“Y/n,” you held out your hand.

“Lestat,” he said, kissing your knuckles, your friends gasped loudly, making you look back at them.

“Sorry about them,” you laughed.

“They are surprised that I am talking to you,” he said, hearing their thoughts.

“How do you- my god, your eyes, are these your natural color?” you asked, leaning closer, looking closer.

“Yes”

“I’ve never seen a color so pretty, natural, only to a few patients after-

“After what?”

“They've died,” you said.

“Interesting”

“Allow me to look further into this Lestat, I’d love to understand this better,” you told him, giving him your card.

“Doctor. Y/n, how about we leave here and you can tell me a little more,” he smirked, interlocking your arms, and leading you away from the party.

Ending up in his bed was the last thing you expected to happen. Your fingers ran through his blonde wavy hair, as his hands pressed against your back, holding you in his lap. Blinded by the euphoric pleasure, you didn't even notice the fangs, wincing as he drank your blood.

It wasn't until you were dressing, that you came to your senses, rushing to leave his townhouse. You planned to avoid him, you didn't understand him, and you figured it was best that you didn't dig. However, he plagued your mind, entering every thought, and you could hardly focus during your first day of work.

As your coworker stopped in front of the house, you thanked him for dropping you off and climbing out. You still hadn't bought a car and there was a good distance between your home and the clinic. Watching him drive away, you turned to the steps, but stopped, seeing Lestat.

“How was your work?” he asked, tilting his head.

“How did you find my house?”

“I asked where the pretty doctor stayed and they led me here, did you not want to see me?” he asked, childishly pouting.

“You bit me,” you exclaimed lowly, watching as he began to grin, devilishly.

“And you tasted exquisite, a rarity, beauty, brains, and sweet blood,” he praised, approaching you.

“Please leave”

“Come inside, we have much to talk about, doctor,” he clapped, walking to the door. Your eyes widened as it opened on its own.

Hesitantly, you followed him into the living room, where he began with small talk before he dropped the information, he's a vampire, willing to become your little experiment if he was allowed to feed on you, whenever he'd like.

He liked you, you weren't a nuisance, much like other humans, which is why he preferred the idea of you giving up your blood willingly, still being able to keep your mortality.

You questioned his motives, why did he want to keep you alive, if he thought your blood was good? What did he gain from this? Why didn't he kill you? What was vampirism? Being met with silence, you begrudgingly accepted the transaction.

As your subject, his dramatic theatrics only increased. He was falling out at every prick, claiming it was better for him to drink, your blood from your neck, instead of an IV. It brought him great joy to have so much attention form you.

He would answer any questions seriously, before patting his lap. It was snack time, and he preferred you to sit there instead of next to him. Although, you could sense that he was withholding.

I mean, according to Lestat, he was the only vampire, one in a billion. There were no others, nor was there a need to search. He was all you could need, powerful, rich, and handsome. He was perfect.

For nearly a year, you ran all kinds of tests on him, comparing human studies to his DNA. Then you began to pull away. You were growing closer with him, staying at his house, or he at yours. Feelings were beginning to surface, after months of consistent intimacy.

Nonetheless, you knew better than to think you would have something together. He didn't think the highest of mortals, so what made you different? Little did you know, you couldn't be more wrong.

After seven months of only being with Lestat as his doctor, but also sexually, you decided to give another man a chance. Sleeping with a mutual friend, you thought it was fun until you woke up in the middle of the night, and were surprised to see a deranged Lestat, holding the man as a hostage. Only he was worthy to be subjected under you, to be touched and held by you.

You were near perfection, he could only imagine if you became a vampire. He was your greatest experiment, able to bestow the dark gift unto you. Yet here you were, entertaining other men

You were confused for a moment, realizing it was jealousy, causing him to act so crazed. Calling him out, he confessed his feelings, his anger and disgust towards this man. You had proven yourself to be worthy of the best and he was the best, waiting for you.

Your heart fluttered at his words, genuinely touched when he offered to share the dark gift with you. Nodding, you exhaled as he whisked you into his arms, sinking his fangs into you. Draining you, before feeding you his blood.

The man continued to squirm, his hands and mouth covered and tied, watching the scene in fear. Regurgitating and groaning, you held your stomach, clinging to Lestat in pain, before you stopped.

Standing upright, you faced Lestat, the man’s heart was pounding as your maker pointed to him. Your first meal. Pouncing on the man, Lestat couldn’t be more satisfied, with you as his fledgling, he could now be your patient for the rest of eternity.

ARMAND THE VAMPIRE

Armand was always watching, always one step ahead, and so, when he caught on to your curiosity, his scheme began. While you were a practicing physician, you were constantly looking for your next experiment. Someone you could poke and prod to further your research.

It was your secret, a taboo, you'd been undergoing all sorts of analysis since before you'd gotten your degree. Moving to Paris, you initially put your focus into your residency, until the vampire theater was brought up. Everyone was raving about the place and you had to see it yourself.

Watching the play, you sat on the edge of your seat in disbelief. The murdering of the girl felt too real, her open wounds obviously infected. Then her screams, those screams, the sound of pure agony and fear, you were quite familiar with it.

When the play ended, the actors came back, along with the director, all of them bowing. Staring at the crew, you were inquisitive towards all of them. Strange eyes, ghostly skin, glass-like, sharp nails. If it wasn't for the apparent powdered makeup, you would assume they were dead.

Despite your suspicion, you kept returning out of curiosity. Your eyes could hardly focus on the play ahead, drifting off to the director. It wasn't until one night, that his eyes finally shifted to your own. Nodding slightly at you, you smiled, before turning your attention back to the play.

Your concentration changed from everyone to him overnight. You kept visiting, a small notebook in hand, writing brief notes about his appearance. Nothing about him seemed natural, and that drew you in more.

"I'd prefer if you spoke to me, instead of trying to follow me and make notes about me," he said, smirking as your heart skipped a beat.

"My apologies, it's a bad habit of mine," you shook your head, shoving the notepad into your pocket.

"You're a doctor?" he asked.

"How did you know?"

"You wrote out a few side notes, about wounds and how they should be treated"

"Yes, I mean, I'm still in my residency, but I am a doctor,” you said.

"And how are you liking Paris?" he asked, as he sat next to you.

"It's fine, I am into the darker aspects of life and death, and I was over the moon, finding a vampire theatre, where everything feels authentic. Then, I saw the director, and I've been to nearly every show since," you confessed, as he stared over at you.

It didn't take much longer for him to pull you into the basement, where you partook in the sinful acts.

Pressed against the cold railing, you kept trying to keep quiet, while his face was against your shoulder, taking in your scent.

You begin to regularly meet up with him and it isn't until one night you are out with a male colleague that you find out his identity. He is with his coven members, fuming in jealousy as he watches you laugh with the man. The conversation was nothing but platonic, but the thought of you in the same space as another man made him physically sick.

He naturally, kills the poor guy and you catch him, screaming as he drops the body, it catches on fire, and he turns to face you, blood dripping from his mouth. You run to try to evade him, but he quickly corners you.

He is too jealous, focused on why you were out with another man, to even notice you were confused and afraid.

Realizing you were reeking in fear, he apologized profusely, begging for forgiveness. He knew you only accepted because you were scared he would kill you next, but he would never, at least not unwillingly.

He takes you home where he confesses that he is a vampire and you have to swear to never tell a soul because it goes against the vampire laws. You want distance from him, but he is consistent, bringing gifts, asking for forgiveness daily, trying to prove that he would never harm you.

Finally, you believe him and he becomes your subject. He is the most willing, you'd ever had, allowing as many needles as you want, as long as it means you are touching his skin. He does manipulate you to drop out of your residency and focus on studying him. He says researching vampirism is a one-in-a-million chance, and he is the perfect experiment.

You are so caught up in your research, that you don't even realize that you are straying further and further away from the possibility of being saved. He loves you, he needs you, just as much as you need him, if not more. The final step to his manipulation tactics, turning you.

He could never allow you to age too much and become old, weathering away. You were his lifeline, he needed you as badly as he needed blood, and after months or even years of extreme brainwashing and manipulation, he turned you and made you his companion and fledgling.

[channelinglament]

Sksjdjjkskskskskksk

I know I should be focusing more on reqs, but I had to take this off my mind skskksskks (btw I'm rn in the underground belobog part of story) (I kinda called it SAHSR as in self aware hsr)

☆•°Self-Aware Honkai Star Rail°•☆

Tw: no proofread, mentioned drowning(but it didn't happen), war, hate, religious themes, self awareness, kinda ooc, grammar mistakes because I am typing this at 12AM instead of sleeping, isolation

So, you know how in the beginning we play as Kafka? Yeah, I'm pretty sure she felt your presence. At first she was kinda weirded out, and was on guard. Who knows what you would do to her, while controlling her?

Oh look, you're helping her.. Hmm, maybe you aren't that bad after all. Still on guard, but thankful. With you she seems to fight more faster and is more efficient.

Same goes with Silver Wolf. They don't seem to mind your presence that much.

You even helped them to pick a trailblazer! But after picking them, you left Kafka and Silver Wolf. They didn't really mind it. They have been doing good without you, so it should be fine!

Meanwhile, the trailblazer is confused. First, they don't remember anything except their own name(or the name you gave them), then Kafka leaves and someone is watching over them. Oh how confusing and strange. But they caught early on that you're helping them. You're not an enemy.

During their "adventures" trailblazer starts thinking of you as a family. Kinda annoying since you control their body most the time (unless it's a cutscene) but you're cool nonetheless. They see you as a safespace.

Meanwhile March 7th and Dan Heng don't understand what is happening. Who is controlling them? Why after they met trailblazer? Why are you controlling them?

I think March would, just like the trailblazer, like you and find you annoying at the same time. Dan Heng would stay on guard (but also see you as safe space/nice person to hang with). Not as much on guard as when you first...met but still. It'll take him time to get off guard. The more time you spend with them, the more familiar they are with you, the more they like you.

Why annoyed, you may ask? Well, imagine you want to.. for example fight, but someone controls your movement and does it instead of you. Or goes the other way (aka exploring) instead of the path you've originally chosen.

They certainly would like when you make them stronger. No matter who is on your team, they'll like it (I mean, who wouldn't?)

But.. sometimes, even if they like you, they get tired of always being on the team. Thank you, yes, but they need to rest too. They mostly rest when you're offline, since..time kinda stops there. But when you're online? damnnn they walk and fight so much.. (I fr walk everywhere to find enemies to fight, so uhh, if you're like me, they would be tired and maybe annoyed at it)

I think some characters would even hate you. It doesn't apply to the main trio btw, they'll always like you. The reason some may hate you is that they have so much stuff to do, yet you choose them to walk around and fight all day. They're even supposed to be here! (For example, using Herta when fighting someone in Belobog)

If they could, they would scold you. But sadly game doesn't allow that.

It only appears in normal, self aware circumstances. Aka a normal self aware. Some like you, some hate you. You just kinda exist. (That one strange friend/sibling, y'know?)

But what if they would see you as a God? Something divine? Like in SAGAU?

Well, you're doomed, what can I say?

Everyone would want to be in your team. Oh, poor Gacha system.

They would hate it tbh. While in just self aware some would avoid you on purpose (aka busy characters), here? Where everyone sees you as a divine being? Oh dear..

Imagine several people trying to come through a single door, all at the same time? Yeahhh that's what happens. The standard and limited banner would literally fist fight while trying to get "home" to you. So don't be surprised if nobody comes home, at all.

But some may cooperate, and you may get more 5☆ or 4☆! Basically characters you wanted.

Those on your team would be proud! Mostly if the main trio are still there. Some would be envious of trailblazer. You're always with them, even if they're not on your team.(how could you?!)

Kafka and Silverwofl would be devastated. I'm pretty sure Silverwolf could possibly destroy the gacha system and come home. Only her (and maybe Kafka)

People in Belobog would hate the lore and everything game makes them do what they do. They're so happy they met you! You're here to save them! They don't want to fight you, so please don't be mad at them.

Honestly, if you were to get isekai'ed into hsr, I would recommend to the normal au.

The ones who hate you would just tell you off and never interact again, while your family/friends would hang out with you. Plus you could help a lot in Astral Express!

Maybe get Himeko and Mr.Yang some tea? Or help Pom Pom with whatever he needs?

If you get into the Worshipping Lunatics au..? I feel sorry for you.. You would never rest-

Whether you choose to stay at Astrak Express, or Herta's *I forgot the name* or whatever, they are all ready to wage war against each other. And if you decided to stay somewhere, that means you clearly favor them and their place more! Those who were chosen are happy/smug. While other try to improve their place/copy the place you've chosen to make you reconsider and stay with them.

The amount of gifts.. try to not drown okay?

They might even all agree to keep you in one place. Lock you in there and hope you won't be mad at them.

That's all for now

(Gotta work on reqs now or in the morning, they're still open btw)

[dahliakbs]

Batfam x Reader: Unexpected Trip To The Future

❥synopsis: You sneak out of the house to hang out with your long time bff only to be caught in the cross fire and forcibly ripped away from your family.

✷

Here you sat alone around the small camp fire, su itrrounded by the endless heaps of trash you'd found that were still of use. The night sky shone a prominent blue colour with the clouds being seen far off in the distance.

The air around you was calm and quiet and seeing as how you were the only human being left on this earth it'd be weird if you all of a sudden started hearing noises.

On nights like this you'd sit around the camp fire and think back to the life you'd lived before the accident occured.

You'd always reminisce back to the day you first came to the manor. Bright eyed and filled with joy and enthusiasm, your closest friend Richard Grayson obviously sharing the same enthusiasm as you.

The two of you were know to be quite inseparable, always being seen together no matter the circumstance. The only times you weren't with each other were when Dick had to go out on patrol, reluctantly leaving you in the cold and dark manor by yourself.

Even though at the time you understood why he had to leave you didn't want him to. Back then it was your clingy behavior that got you into the accident.

Both of you having lost your parents at such a young age had left you yearning for some kind of affection and Dick felt the same way. So at any moment of the day you two would be together, playing whatever games you two could come up with until Bruce came home.

But since you two were together every second of the day you didn't see why you weren't allowed to go out on patrol with them. So when you were sat at home by yourself waiting for Dick to come home you'd just decided that if he wasn't gonna come to you you were gonna come to him.

On that night you'd snuck out of the manor, Alfred having not noticed since you escaped through your bedroom window.

You'd somehow squired one the tracking devices B used to know your precise locations and used it to find your way, arriving in less than ten seconds.

"Dick- I mean Robin I'm here!" You yelled out as soon as you made it to the scene. Having not noticed the intense battle going on between your father figure and the joker.

"N/n what are you doing here?" you could see his eyes light up under the mask as he quickly sprinted of the battle field towards you, arms opened wide and awaiting your hug.

You'd returned it quickly, holding out your hands towards him in a silly manner.

"Don't tell B but I snuck out to come see you, I stole one of his tracking thingies and now here I am" you showed off the gadget in your hands to a wide eyed Dick.

"Wait you stole it?!" He exclaimed, drawing everyone's attention towards the two of you.

"Keep quiet or else you'll get me in trouble-"

"What do we have here" Joker suddenly appeared behind Dick, roughly pushing him out of the way to get a good look at you.

"What's a little thing like you doing out here, did you come to say hi to your old uncle Joker?" he asked, you liked down to his hand. Noticing the strange gun he held in his hand. It looked like any regular gun, just deformed and reeking of a strange acidy smell.

"Get away from them" Dick jumped towards the Joker only to be harshly side kicked away from the two of you.

"Well since your here" he grabbed onto your arm, harshly yanking you closer towards him before flashing his deranged yellow smile at you.

His eyes held a mischievous look in them, bloodshot and looking down towards you as if you were nothing more than a puny joke to him.

"I've been meaning to test this thing out and you seem to be quite eager to help your ole uncle J, right?" He asked, pointing the gun in some random direction and pulling the trigger.

The gun shot out a murky green colour, the murky green forming into a circular portal that led to somewhere unknown.

The panic set in for you as you noticed the smile in his face grow to inhuman proportions. Harshly trying to jerk yourself away from him as you called out for anyone's help.

"Someone help me, anyone" your eyes turned blurry with tears as you turned to Bruce then to Dick for help.

"Daddy please help me" you cried out before you felt yourself being thrown towards the portal.

The last thing you saw before being thrown into you the green portal was Bruce chasing after you, wearing an expression you could only describe as scared and desperate. Calling out to you before you were fully submerged inside the portal.

Immediately feeling your body be transported throughout time and space before finally ending up in the wasteland you currently resided in.

The wasteland being the ruins of the former crime city known as Gotham City. Apparently the world had gone to ruins a little after you'd gone to the future, leaving behind a vast dry land ready to be taken over by mother nature.

And all you could think of as you reminisced and watched over this forgotten city were the regrets you had, you just wanted to see your family one last time.

Seeing that expression on Bruce's face really shook you to your core, you didn't think he'd even cared that much about you until you saw how desperate he looked that night.

One of the biggest regrets you had was not being able to see Dick's face one last time, to atleast be able to see his expression before you left him and all you do about it now was cry and look up to the night sky. Hoping that if there was a god out there that they would send you back to the family you belonged to.

Hoping that if you'd finally be able to confess to tell Dick about the silly feelings you had for him when you were both so young. Or maybe hoping to finally spend some time with your cold and hurt guardian.

And as if someone was really out there listening to your pleas you saw a familiar murky green colour fill up the space between you and the campfire.

Immediately lighting up the small space you were in.

A couple seconds of staring at it later you heard someone speak from the other side before s figure emerged from the portal.

?

"Richard is that you?" You asked the figure. They looked exactly identical to him, only difference was that this person was much taller and looked around the same age as you. His suit was very different, instead of the bright red, green and yellow he wore when he was younger he instead sported a black and blue skin tight suit.

The figure kept walking closer, expression slowly crumbling as they inched closer and closer towards you before they stopped Infront you. Taking off their mask to get a better look at you.

"It's time to go home n/n" his voice trembled as he forced the words out of his mouth. He crouched down in front of you, placing his arms underneath your legs and hoisting you into the air without giving you a chance to think to much in the situation.

He hurriedly passed through the portal, almost as if he was trying to get you away from the cursed wasteland as soon as possible. A wave of nausea overcoming before you emerged in the other side.

The intense feeling forcing you into a deep slumber before you could even get to see what was on the other side of the portal.

[maedae-maedae]

Perverted

☆ Reigen Arataka x F!Reader

☆ Chapter 1/3

☆ Genre: Smut

☆ Warnings: NSFW 18+

☆ Contents: Sub!Reigen, Co-workers, Office Masturbation, Humiliation Kink, Caught in the Act, Mutual Pining

☆ Word Count: 6.7k

☆ Summary: A boss and his employee is quite the forbidden love affair. It could never happen, really it shouldn't. He would never let his feelings for you get the better of him and let you see. But Reigens worst nightmare is where you find out about what he allows himself to do and think in private. What would you think of him? And why does the outcome arouse him anyways?

Or at least it does until it becomes his reality.

☆ A/N: i am incapable of being normal about this man.

Read on AO3

Chapter 1 - Cause

Reigen was never one to be perverted, especially at work. He knew how to separate business and pleasure. Even when certain cases walked into his office (like a spirit mark on a woman’s breasts, or giving a full body massage to particularly attractive customers), it was important for him to keep his business composure. And maybe he’s had a perverted thought or two in moments like those, but who wouldn’t? The mind wanders. What’s important was that it never left that moment. Once it was over, those thoughts were out of his head, and he would never act on such thoughts.

Something weird has been happening lately, though.

He’s been feeling strange. Having perverted thoughts when he shouldn’t. It started off at home, he started watching porn more often, which he rarely does, and that’s to say of course he started touching himself more often. But then it started happening at work in the morning too. Getting aroused and having a strong urge to relieve himself, sometimes he couldn’t even get his head straight with customers in the middle of a session with him. It was quite troubling to say the least. And recently he realized why it started.

It was you.

Having you in the office wasn’t really that much of a change from before, other than being able to get work done more efficiently of course. He wouldn’t say just having a woman in the office itself did this to him, because that would be gross. But really in the beginning everything was fine. The two of you had normal co-working banter while you did your work, nothing special really. And you were very respectful in the beginning towards him so you weren’t really close. That is, until the “company dinner” together, when all three of you got fairly drunk. After that, the two of you have been closer, like friends more than boss-and-worker honestly.

He cant put his finger on exactly when his perverted feelings started coming into play. Maybe it was the day you gave him a ride home. Being alone with eachother outside the office (like actually alone, just the two of you), he remembers it feeling pretty intimate. And also being extremely nervous, but playing it off cool of course (you could see him sweating).

Ever since he’s started seeing you as more of a friend, his mind started to wander into the danger zone. It’s like his business filter is flipped off when he thinks of you now, and he can’t find it to turn it off anymore. He always keeps it appropriate at work of course. But maybe sometimes when you stand up to get water, or talk to a customer, perhaps you could catch him looking at you for a bit too long. And maybe if you looked over at the wrong time, you would catch his eyes wandering to places they shouldn’t be. That he scolds himself for afterwards every time.

Just like he’s doing now. You’re taking a customers payment and having him fill out some forms from across the office, your back facing Reigen. He can just never get over how good you look in that skirt. It’s not like it’s even particularly short, it’s appropriate length, but the way it hugs your figure….

Work. You’re at work. You need to focus, Reigen.

He turns to the computer again.

The thing is, he didn’t like being like this. And he tried to fight it at first, but it’s like you’ve put some kind of horny spell on him or something. Are regular crushes supposed to make you more sexually driven? He doesn’t think so. There must be something wrong with him.

“Okay, Reigen,” You call out, snapping him awake, “I’m gonna start running the calculations for this weeks total income. Do you need me to do anything else before going home for the weekend?” You ask politely, turning your body slowly to face him, tapping some documents together in your hands. The guy from before is gone now. When did that happen?

He buffers for a second looking at you, and probably for a moment too long, because you turn to look back at him curiously.

“Oh- No, no. You’re all good to go home after this, (Y/n).” He finally replies.

You crack a smile at this statement, looking pleased to hear that. He watches as you turn to sit in your chair and start typing with a newly determined end-of-the-workweek energy. He ends up also smiling at this, managing to turn his attention back to his work as well.

The next hour or so goes by in mostly silence, only the sounds of tapping and the occasional thinking noises that comes from Reigen. The sun starts to set now, orange tinting the room through the slightly-open shades.

You push yourself up to stand, clicking the shut down on your computer, all while smiling. Finally you get to go home early. And not late like you always tend to do.

You alert his attention again at this, and he looks up at you. “Heading out?” He asks.

You smile proudly at him, “Yep! Unless you want me to stay. But if you do, I think I’m qualified to start asking for overtime pay at this point.” You say, partially joking.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, no. Really, you’re good to go.”  He reassures you.

You squint your eyes at him, leaning on your hand placed on your desk. “This is suspicious. You never let me go home early.” You accuse him.

He frowns at you, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms. “What am I, some kind of ceo villain? It’s not like I try to trap you here. If you’re done with your work, you can go.” He states simply.

“Yeah, you say that but,” You stand up straight and take your purse, moving around your desk to make your way to the coat hanger. “There seems to always be something you want me to help you with, even if I finish my work. You’re sure you don’t need anything?” You finish and turn to face him again.

“What? Do you want to stay later? If you really want something to do I can make something up and-“

“No! I just…” You cut him short and then trail off, holding eye contact for a weird amount of time in silence.

He tilts his head at you, confused. “What is it? Is something wrong?” He asks, a sudden concerned tone in his voice. You are acting a little strange, so it makes sense. You stand there for a few more seconds without answering.

“Are you going to be going home soon?” You blurt out, and he blinks a few times at the sudden question.

“Uh.. No, I don’t think so. I’ve got some more things I gotta take care of before the weekend, so I’ll probably be here for a while.” He says, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

You frown at this, and he starts to see what’s going on now. It’s cute, and he tries not to smile and make it obvious what he’s thinking. Or at least he puts on a fake, sly smile, prepared to tease you about your reasonable concern instead.

“What? Are you worried about me? That’s oh so sweet of you, but don’t be. I’ll be fine. This won’t take too long. Believe it or not, I don’t especially love working past close either.”  He does his best to reassure you, but you’re still frowning at him, clearly not convinced. “Hey, don’t give me that face. Just go home and get some rest. I’ll see you on Monday, yeah?” He says again, trying to wave you off as he directs his attention back to his monitor, pretending to do something.

Of course he doesn’t want you to go either, but as your boss he really didn’t have anything to give you. And as your— what he guesses could be called “admirer”— he did want you to actually get some rest.

You watch him sadly for a few more moments, and then let out a sigh. You reach for your coat, and he can hear it ruffle as you put it on.

You don’t know why you’re suddenly sad about leaving, since you were just over the moon about it a minute ago. Maybe it’s because lately you get out so late that you end up closing with him most nights. When this happens you’d always be a little annoyed, since no one likes working beyond their hours, but now you’re realizing maybe you actually grew to enjoy it? Or at least to be accustomed to it. Since you feel weird like this about leaving early now. It’s not because you want to work obviously, but you guess…

You just really like being in Reigens company.

You glance over your shoulder again at him before you go for the door. He’s busy at work again. You know he probably has more than he’s letting on, and he’s probably just letting you go since you were so happy about leaving early.

You suppose you’re lucky to have a boss who’s also a friend. So much that he cares more about your health than work. So much that you dread leaving his side…

You spot the heating/ac control panel on the wall next to you. You realize it’s pretty hot, forgetting you just put your jacket on.

“Is it hot in here? Do you want me to turn the heat down for you while I’m on my way out?” You ask, breaking the loud silence.

“Hm? Oh, no, it’s fine.” He mumbles back to you.

“Okay..” You mumble and finally head for the door.

You stop again.

“Oh! By the way,” You start and turn to him again. “I’m gonna go to the supercenter this weekend to pick up a few things. So, let me know if there’s anything I should pick up for the office.”

He cracks a smile, leaning his body to the left from behind the monitor, his chin coming to rest in his hand. “Alright, I’ll make sure to do that. Anything else you wanna ask me?” He teases, giving you a smug look.

You smile back at him, rolling your eyes. You’re about to have a witty comeback, but suddenly remember another thing. You can’t believe you almost forgot.

“Oh! Okay, one last thing!” You hurry over to your desk, and his eyes follow you as you make your way over and bend down to open up a drawer. He’s doing the thing again, his eyes lingering.

You find a folder you were searching for immediately and take out the first paper in it. You make your way over to him, still not looking at him yet. As you approach, he shakes himself out of the daze he had just gone into.

You stand next to him, staring at the paper for another second as he waits for whatever you have to show him. Then finally, you hand it over to him.

“What’s this?” He immediately asks.

“The first client that came in today had a follow-up session request. It was pretty detailed and picky so I had him fill out a form about it. I told him you’d call back about it in a few days.” You inform him.

“Huh. Must be serious if he’s so strict about it. Or maybe he’s just picky, I guess.” He says, skimming over the several paragraphs of writing under the ‘extra comments/requests’ section. “Guess I’ll just have to charge extra. I can give him a call tomorrow.” He finishes with a signature grin.

Then to his surprise, he suddenly feels you next to him, as you bend over him to point to something on the page.

You start to make a comment about something the client wrote, but Reigens mind kind of stops working for a moment. He glances over at you, your face dangerously close to his. He can smell your signature perfume, already familiar with it from the times you’d get close to him, pass him by, or give him rides home in your car. He loves the smell, the smell of you, and he remembers times where he’d wished he could get to experience it even when you’re not around. He starts to let himself admire you as you continue to talk to him about something he should probably be listening to.

“-And I mean I told him that might be out of our control, but he insisted on writing it. So, it’s up to you.” You finish your explanation that you didn’t realize was going unheard. But when you get no response at all, you finally turn your head. Your eyes meet for a moment, and his widen a little, snapping out of his daze again.

He immediately snaps his head forward and nods. “Mm, Okay. Understood. I’ll take care of it, (Y/n). Thank you.” He says quickly and very matter-of-factly.

You blush a little from your one second of intimacy, not expecting for him to have been staring at you like that. You slowly bring yourself to stand again.

He won’t look at you now, placing the piece of paper down next to him and pushing himself further into the desk as he goes back to scrolling on the computer.

You stand there for a little too long, like you’re a stunned animal, just looking at him curiously, wondering ‘what was that?’.

He can feel you still next to him, and there’s an awkward air. Was that too obvious? Did you finally catch him? Gotta play it off.

He clears his throat, glancing up at you again with a straight face. “I’ll take care of it, so you can head out, (Y/n).”

You jump a little, face flushing darker at how awkward you were probably making him feel just standing there in silence. “Oh, right. Thank you.”

“And, you have something in your teeth. By the way.” He adds on bluntly.

Very smooth.

Your brows furrow as you cover your mouth, tongue feeling around for something. Now you feel especially embarrassed.

Of course he just saw something in your teeth, idiot. Why else would he stare like that?

Your internal dialogue as you make your way to the door again, not dragging your pace this time.

He watches you subtly as you go, feeling a bit guilty now.

“Have a good weekend!” He calls out, but you don’t stop or look back, feeling too humiliated at the moment. You just nod and hum a “you too”, and then you’re gone.

He throws himself back, his chair reclining with him, throwing his hands over his face. His hands run back through his hair.

He wishes he had thought of a different excuse, but he was frantic, and he really can’t have you finding out about the way he feels for you. On the likely chance it makes you weirded out and decide to quit, he’d still be able manage same as he did before you were hired, but of course that’s not the reason he doesn’t want to loose you.

Once he gets over his regret or whatever this is, he gets back to work, and then an hour or so passes quickly. He finally takes a break to look at his phone.

No messages.

What was he expecting?

He thinks about you again, and all the different ways the two of you interacted today. This became a pass time for him, thinking about you, and replaying you in his mind. Before he knows it, he’s been staring at the ceiling for 10 minutes. A sigh leaves his lips.

“Damn. I need to go home too… I should wrap this up.” He speaks to himself, pulling his attention away from your temptation.

But as he tries to finish up the last of his to-do list for today, he can’t stop letting his mind wander. Every time he starts to get into the rhythm, his focus gets lost again, and there you are. Work that should’ve only taken about another hour or so turns into 2 hours. And as time passes, his thoughts of you only get more perverted.

This was like clockwork, when he couldn’t get you off his mind, his fantasizing eventually ended up a little X-rated. He finds himself starting to palm at the buldge that had appeared under his pants, staring blankly at the screen in front of him with an unfinished email, totally spaced out now.

He pushes out a shaky breath, gently massaging himself to the thought of you. The fantasy of getting to have you in any context, but right now his fantasy scenario is one that takes place in the office. You tying his hands behind his chair, straddling his lap and having your way with him. His cheeks are bright red, engulfed in his imagination. The PC fan, clock ticking, and Reigen’s unsteady breathing being the only sounds in the empty office. He’s started to work himself up without realizing.

Ding!

The sound of a notification suddenly brings him out of his daydream, his actions stopping all at once, his eyes refocusing. At first he searches the computer screen, thinking he’d have gotten an email, but there’s nothing new. He reaches for his phone, and sure enough, a text notification. From you.

The text reads:

[hey! you still at the office?]

And as he’s reading it, he receives another.

[better not be.. if you end up sick from overworking im not coming in for you! :p]

He laughs through his nose, running his hand through his hair again. He sighs. You’re right, he really needs to finish up here. If only you knew what he was really doing right now.

He was basically finished, just needed to send this last email that he’d already started. Yet, when he tries to finish it again, he just can’t seem to focus at all. He got himself too riled up, and there was only one real way he knew how to fix it, of course.

He contemplates it for a minute. Masturbating in the office… It’s a terrible idea, right? But it’s not like anyone would come after close, and he could just make it quick.

He wastes more time contemplating, but eventually comes to the conclusion that the only way he can finish up today is if he can be relieved of his thoughts of you first. This is a lie of course, he really could make himself power through, but he convinces himself otherwise. After all, he is very convincing.

He gets up from his chair and makes his way to the door, checking to make sure it’s 100% locked. God forbid something unthinkable occurs.

As he’s about to walk back to his own desk and finally get down to “business”, he stops in front of your desk, spotting something.

Your scarf is left on the headrest of your chair, and he doesn’t know how neither of you spotted it before you left. You always take it with you.

He stays frozen in place for a moment. An awful idea occurs to him.

He cant even believe what he’s doing as he saunters over to the chair, taking the scarf in his hand and bringing it close to his face. It smells like you. And your perfume. Just like he thought it probably would.

This is bad. Dangerous, even. He shouldn’t be doing this.

But then he’s sitting down in your desk chair, nuzzling his face into your left-behind apparel laced with your scent, his hand slipping down to massage himself again.

And then before he knows it, his length is out in his hand, and he’s pleasuring himself. In your chair. Surrounded by your things. Everything around him reminds him of you. The cute trinkets on the desk, the colorful paper clips keeping papers tidy, the dog-shaped sticky notes on the monitor with reminders written in your pretty handwriting. And your scent. God, he goes crazy for it.

Sighs start to escape his lips, and then soft moans begin to follow. His pumping gets faster, his hips start to buck up into his hand, his breathing getting more unstable.

This is so so wrong. Horribly wrong. You’d probably kill him if you found out.

You.

The things you’d do to him, if you knew.

His shame only fuels his arousal for some reason. Even though it’d be a nightmare if you walked in right now, for some reason the thought still turns him on. You seeing him desperate and needy like this, his dirty secret finally out. You’d finally know what you do to him, and he could confess that only you make him act like this.

“Fuck… (Y/n)…” He whines into the soft fabric in his hand.

As his imagination runs wild in his mind, he just gets more needy. All this time of touching himself to the thought, but he wants the real thing more than anything. So badly. He wants you— no— he needs you.

This prompts him to start letting out short whines, your name leaving his lips again and again. He keeps fucking his hand, wishing that somehow he’d open his eyes and see you around him instead.

“Please.. please-Ah-.. fuck..“

He starts pleading and babbling nonsense, head tilting back to look up at the ceiling.

Faster. He strokes himself at a faster pace now, sometimes stuttering as his hips jerk up involuntarily.

He cant believe he’s doing this. But it feels so good, there’s no way he could stop.

He’s nearing climax now, and his noises get less controllable as he continues to get immense pleasure from this perverted situation he’s cultivated.

He brings the scarf back up to his face, the scent renewing and giving him a better illusion of you. The fabric helping to muffle himself as well. His eyes squeeze shut and with your aroma so close to him, he can make out the image of you. Wrapped around him, moaning his name into his ear, your plush skin pressed against his own.

Finally, with one last hard thrust, he reaches his climax, his hips thrusting up and locking for a moment as he shakes with pleasure. He’s not able to catch the first line of semen that comes out way more intense than he expected. It gets on the top of your desk, but thankfully not on his clothes somehow. The rest he catches with his hand.

He sits there shocked for a moment, breathing hard and heavy. He hasn’t finished that intensely in a while.

Then he lets himself lean back into the chair to relax for a moment, sighing heavily at his intense relief.

Jesus, Reigen. You’re a fuckin creep. Look at what you’re doing right now.

He thinks to himself in his post-clarity.

He sits there in silence for a while, letting himself wallow in the shame of his actions tonight.

Then he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. He’s ready to just put this behind him, pretend it never happened.

“Alright… Guess I should-“ His own speaking to himself gets cut off as there’s a knock on the door.

He immediately goes into panic mode for a few moments. He almost answers, until he realizes it’s probably a customer. They’ll go away once they realize the shop is closed.

So he stays still and silent.

Then probably one of his worst case scenarios takes place.

He hears the security system unlock, followed by the door opening slowly, and then-

You pop your head in slowly as you look around the room, eventually locking eyes with Reigen. His heart sinks.

Luckily for him, your desk faces the door, so he’s still in the clear from your point of view. Of course not the most ideal situation to be in right now.

“Oh! You’re here,” You step inside, shutting the door behind you. “You didn’t say anything when I texted. And usually I knock before I come in during close, incase you might be busy with something, but-“ You come to a stop when you realize how in-shock— and sweaty?— he looks right now. And just the overall weird tenseness in the air. And-

“Why are you at my desk?” You ask with a slight tilt of the head.

He’s suddenly snapped back into reality, realizing the urgency of this situation. He needs to figure out how to get out of this smoothly, and fast. His hand is literally full of his own-

“Reigen?-“

“HEY!” He startles you with his sudden volume. “(Y/n)! Hey! Funny seeing you here so late I thought you went home already!” He smiles as genuinely as he can manage as he pushes out that regrettable concoction of words.

You blink a few times. “Uh… Yeahhh, well I did! I mean I was on my way, but-“ He nods along as you speak, eyes glancing around for something to wipe off the desk. “-then I found that brand of salt you like so much when I stopped at Daiso and yknow it’s always sold out so I brought it back for you. Never a bad thing to have extra stock right? Just in case.“ You tell him sweetly. He now notices the three bags of salt in your arms. Normally he’d be very pleased with this. In ideal circumstances.

“Wow, look at you! You’re really an amazing employee, (Y/n), yknow that? Have I ever told you that?” He starts to babble, giving you a big fake smile. “Thanks so much, hey, uh- Why don’t you just put them on the couch and I’ll put them away when I’m done over here. You should really head home and actually get some rest for tonight, right?”

“Oh, right.” You remember how badly you want to put these bags down now. They’re kinda heavy. You move over to the couch, hunching over to drop them down.

While you’re looking away, Reigen glances around frantically for any sort of paper towels on your desk. His eyes lock onto your box of tissues, grabbing a handful and quickly wiping the mess on the table, just before you turn back around with a labored exhale. He’s wiping himself off discretely under the desk when you make eye contact again. “So what is it you’re doing over there anyways?” You ask to his dismay. Of course you’re curious about the situation though, since he is in your work space after work hours.

He opens his mouth to answer, and he only buffers for a moment. Almost suspicious, but not quite. “Ah, I just wanted to restart your computer, I do that with mine every once in awhile. Keeps em running smoothly. But yknow then it started acting strange, so I was just checking it out.” He comes up with an adequate excuse on the fly.

“Oh, seriously? Strange how? I can help you, let me-“

“NO!” He practically shouts when you take a step towards him, making you jump. Then he clears his throat immediately. “I mean, seriously, I got it. Cmon, you don’t trust your own boss? Just get home, will ya? You worked hard today.”

His rare compliment/considerateness blinds you to how weird he was being for a moment. You start to grin a little.

“Hmm.. I mean, you’re right. But honestly I’m not sure how comfortable I am with you fixing my computer, considering I was the one who had to fix yours the last time it started having issues.” You say in a joking tone, placing a hand on your hip.

He lets out an awkward, but still believable laugh. “Ahhh, that’s right! BUT I do know my fair share about computers. I did have to function somehow before you got here, right?”

“Yeah, it’s almost unthinkable.” You roll your eyes smiling. “I’ll go home after, but I can just help real quick. I’m sure you were doing something more important before this.”

He certainly was. And he definitely regrets getting off track now. Lesson learned. And as much as he appreciates your eagerness to help him, it literally could not be a worse time for it.

“(Y/n), it’s fine. You just stay right there and watch the master at work-“

“Master? Is there a spirit in the PC or something?” You say sarcastically, crossing your arms.

“Will that convince you to leave it to the professional?”

“Well if that’s the case, maybe I should call Mob?”

Woooow. Okay, that makes him crack an actual smile, his tenseness losing up a little. “What are you talking about? You know what mob calls me, right?” He says cockily, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Oh whatever, just let me help you!” You say letting out a laugh, like this is some kind of game.

“I don’t need your help!”

“Yeah right!” You take another step towards him.

“Don’t move another muscle!”

“What, are you naked behind the desk or something?” You ask jokingly.

He lets out a loud “Ha!” At your (scarily close) accusation. “I’m sure you’d love that, wouldn't you?” His words come out as quickly as he regrets them immediately afterwards. Both of your eyes go wide at the same time, and a blush quickly surfaces on your cheeks.

His expression and his heart drop the same.

“I am so sorry. That came out wrong.” He apologizes immediately, and he’s genuine because he really did not mean for it to sound that way. With you being both his friend and now secret desire, the line between professional and unprofessional is sometimes a little foggy. He has to remind himself to tone it down maybe.

Your mouth hangs open slightly, trying to think of something, anything to say after that, but you can’t seem to form anything together. You’re not really offended, just embarrassed. What did he mean by that? Why would he think you want to see him naked? Does he know you like him?

Stupid! Idiot! Why would you say that! His mind practically screams at him. He has to say something else.

He clears his throat. “Anyways!” Of course, perfect segway. “Just watch this. Like I said, master at work.” He says quickly and slides himself out of your chair and down under the desk where the PC box sits.

You just kind of stand there awkwardly. You don’t really have anything to say to him anymore, overthinking about whatever just happened.

“Alright, come here.” He finally calls out to you after a few moments and you oblige, coming over to behind the desk. He comes up again, clicking the start button on the PC before he does. And then of course your totally-fine-in-the-first-place computer boots back up.

He gives you a satisfied look. “There. Fresh as new. You’ll thank me later.”

You cross your arms, rolling your eyes. “Wow.. I guess you really are the master.” You reply sarcastically.

“I told you, didn’t I?”

Now being this close to him, you notice again how worked he looks. Like he’d just done a workout or something.

“Why are you sweating so much? Are you sick or something? I told you not to overwork yourself..” You scold, leaning over to take some tissues out of the box off your desk and taking a few to hand to him.

He clears his throat again, hesitantly taking the tissues from you with his free hand that doesnt already have crumpled up ones in it. “Ah, no.. It’s just hot in here. I should’ve let you turn down the heater earlier. I’ve been too busy to bother getting up to adjust it.” He makes another excuse. Truly, he feels gross being this close to you right know, knowing what he just did, and that there’s still evidence of it lingering. Normally this is very much an at-home-only activity. He never thought he’d get himself in a situation like this.

You tilt your head a bit, forgetting that you had even offered to do that earlier. “Oh yeah…” You eyes trail over to the control panel across the room, while Reigen wipes his face, watching your expression carefully.

When you look back over, the two of you makes eye contact for a moment. For some reason, it feels intimate, and Reigen thinks maybe it’s just his imagination still. He should say something to get you to leave though. This situation feels way too weird.

Right before he can say anything though, your eyes finally pull away, coming to spot something on the floor.

You make a slight “Oh!” sound, noticing the scarf you left behind, now on the floor.

Reigen follows your eyes to it and doesn’t stop you when you walk around him to pick it up.

“That’s funny, I left my scarf here. I didn’t even notice I was missing it.” You shrug.

His heart beats faster watching you hold it. Maybe because he can’t stop thinking about what he was just using it for.

He watches as you unravel it and wrap it around you, still filled with anxiety, like you’d sense his filthy use of your precious accessory just by touching it. You look at him when its back on, and you make the same strong eye contact again.

This is so weird. For the both of you.

The atmosphere feels unreal, like you’re experiencing a dream right now, being alone together in the dim-lit office way after hours. And reigen was acting so strange to how he normally is, though you don’t want to address it and let him know you’re that observant to his behaviors.

“Um.. I still have more bags of the salt in my car. I couldn’t carry them all in one go.” You finally say, eyes still connected to his.

“Oh. I can help.” He replies with no real emotion, like he’s in a trance right now.

“No no, it’s okay. You finish up work. I’ll just bring the rest in.” You assure him, still not breaking eye contact.

“I should help you. You already went through the effort of buying and transporting them here.” He says and finally breaks the contact for a moment to glance over at his desk. “Actually… if you want to do something, there’s an unfinished email on my desk. I’ve been trying to write it for a while but I don’t know, I guess I’ve just lost my work energy for the day.”

“Oh! Okay yeah, I can do that. Then,” You begin to take your scarf off again, taking it and reaching up to wrap it around Reagan’s neck instead. He blushes slightly at this, but not flinching or acting bothered at all. You can feel his eyes on you as you adjust it correctly into place. “You need this instead.”

He laughs through his nose slightly, and for some reason, he’s no longer tense or anxious. Smiling at you, and you smiling back, he feels his nerves calm, and he nearly forgets about whatever the hell he was worried about.

The eye contact continues, and it feels like you might… kiss? Or that’s what would happen if this was some cliche movie or something. But neither of you would ever be brave enough to make that risky first move. So you just stand in silence again for a weird amount of time.

“So..” Reigen finally breaks it when he comes back to earth before you do “Keys?”

You jump a little “Right!” You agree and fiddle for them in your coat pocket, pulling them out and handing them over.

Then for the next 20 minutes or so, the two of you say nothing to each other. You finish up his emails at his computer while he comes in and out of the office a few times with the salt.

You’re shutting the computer down when he puts the last sack of bags down with a heavy last heave of breath. You admire the way he rolls his neck and rubs at the muscles on his arms. His sleeves are rolled up and he pulls at his tie to unloosen it a bit as he turns to look at you. You pretend like you weren’t just having questionable thoughts about him.

You offer him a ride home, and he reluctantly takes it. During the ride, the two of you get back to your everyday conversational banter, like nothing happened. And really, nothing did anyways. When you turn the corner to his apartment, the two of you are still laughing at something stupid he just said.

You’d normally pull into the parking area in front of his place, but some idiot parked on the side of the ride is too far into the entrance. Definitely not legal, and also incredibly annoying.

“What the hell. What was this dumbass thinking?” You say in disbelief, gesturing out to the car in front of you.

“Ugh. They’re notoriously bad at parking, everytime I see that car there’s always some type of note on it. Guess there’s no free spaces.” He comments, peeking out the window to try to see into the gate.

“Yeah, but they couldn’t have just parked a little further up the street? This is actually laughably bad. Like illegal, even.” You say to him and just put the car in park where you are on the side of the road. You’re obviously not getting in.

“You think we could get compensation if we reported it?” You ask, turning to him with a mischievous look. He turns to face you and can’t help but mirroring your expression.

“I’ve taught you well. I’m sure I could somehow.” He tells you to confirm your question. “But, if I’m being honest, I can’t be bothered. I just want to sleep right now.”

You give him a disappointed look and he shrugs.

“Well. Then… are you okay walking in from here then?”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine walking a few extra feet to my front door, yeah.” He answers you sarcastically and you roll your eyes immediately.

“Oh okay, attitude. Go ahead then.” You tell him with your own tone, but you’re clearly teasing with the smile across your face.

“Wow I can’t believe you’re really going to make me walk so far, (Y/n). After everything I do for you, really. If I-“

“Oh my gosh, gooooooooo!” You say, cutting off his silly monologue and pushing him towards the door with both hands.

“Alright! Alright! I’m going!” He obliges with a laugh and you let him go. When he opens the passenger door you can feel the wave of cold air and you involuntarily shiver. You’re watching him step out and come to stand, when you notice that he’s still wearing your scarf.

“Wait!” You call out on impulse and he turns around to face you, his hand placed on the hood of the car.

You think about it for a second, looking at your scarf around his neck. It looks… cute on him. And you feel like he kinda needs it, he’s not really dressed very warm. Even though he’s only walking a few extra feet like he said. You want him to use it.

You’re about to say it’s nothing and let him take it, but he seems to notice where you’re looking and looks down to notice for himself.

“Oh, right. Here.” He says and starts to take it off, but you stop him.

“No, no! Take it.” You insist. He looks at you confused, eyebrow raising.

“What? Why? You wear this everyday.” He says.

“I have other ones. You never dress warm. Just use it for the weekend and give it back to me on Monday, kay?” You tell him.

“But-“ He starts and then trails off with seemingly nothing else to say.

You just smile at him and give him a wave goodbye. He buffers there for a moment before just going with it, nodding and waving back.

“Thank you.” He says as he reaches for the door.

“Goodnight.” You tell him gently and watch him go even after he shuts the door and walks off. You sit there just for a moment, wondering why you wanted him to have your scarf so bad. And also why he agreed. He has his own, you’ve seen it before, though not often.

Hm.

Well, whatever.

[servicpop]

Hello It's — ♡ Nonnie again!! I jus' wanted 2 say thank u 4 answering my previous ask!! ૮꒰ˊᗜˋ* ꒱ა 'Nd I also wanted 2 drop one of my ideas here!!

Was thinking about ur ocs giving inexperienced reader their first ever blowjob, 'nd poor thing is barely holding on!! Getting teary eyed while he comes down their throat the moment they have their lips wrapped around their sensitive head.

Pathetic whimpers 'nd all whilst he grasp onto anything in their surroundings, thighs locked around their head—

Would they make fun of readee for coming too fast? Laugh at them? Or even degrade them? So so many questions!! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

— ♡

♡ nonnie you are my angel !!

didn't know if you meant reader giving oc or reader receiving it from oc but I decided to do reader receiving cus its usually the reader giving !

Adrien would laugh , he'd have you sitting on his desk while he wraps his arms around your thighs , holdin' you down so you don't accidentally kick him from the stimulation. He's so mean to you , only blowing the parts where you're most sensitive. He refuses to touch anywhere else other than the spots that gets you really struggling in his grasp. He'd find it so cute the way you fail to grab anything on his desk ( he doesn't have anything cause he never studies anyways ) and your eyes twitch and threaten to roll back. He has you coming in his mouth almost instantly and he laughs about it , he makes sure to tease you afterward. "Am I really that good? God maybe I should suck you off more often to crack that good boy facade, huh?"

Vallen surprisingly doesn't laugh or degrade you ! He takes it real slow, letting you get used to the weird sensation of his mouth. He'd pull off when you'd whine a bit too loud and smile when he sees your teary eyes, begging for him to continue. Vallen makes sure to find your sensitive spots beforehand, using his long fingers to trace over your cock, taking a mental note of when your hips would twitch more than other places. He's extremely gentle, so gentle that it has you trying so hard not to buck your hips up. When he hits the right spot that has you moaning and coming down his throat, Vallen pulls off slowly and spits it out into a handkerchief, patting your stomach like he would with a little corgi pup. He's a hypocrite with the way he'd make you swallow everything but he's allowed to spit it out !

Cole loves to give you blowjobs its like his favorite thing ! He's kneeling on the carpet of the hotel you were staying at, pushing aside the complimentary silk white robe they gave as he rubbed soothing circles on your thighs. He was just as inexperienced but new a few things about it so it wasn't bad. He's more of a kisser, peppering light kisses all over your sensitive tip, kneading the flesh at your tummy as he soothes you. He sees every twitch and groan, watching as your fingers curl into the sheets and pull at it. He whistles softly and pushes you down onto your back so he can lift your hips up as he stands. Its a strange pose with your legs slung over his shoulders and your hips raised from the bed, but needless to say it was effective, had you writhing and seeing stars.

Callahan ... simply doesn't like giving. He's definitely a receiver but you most definitely couldn't convince him to blow you, only really eat you out ! But hypothetically if he did , he'd definitely degrade you. Always tellin' you off about coming too quickly and how bad it tastes , he'd suck the life out of you and then ramble on about why you'd like such a thing while he has you snuggled up beside him , fast asleep.

[meat-wentz]

okay so i’m gonna say here: listen. you’re allowed to think and say whatever you want. sometimes though when you put those things on a large public platform other people will read them and they may find what you have to say hurtful, and it may be your first instinct to go on the defense and say uhm okay get a life if you find this hurtful, but you’ve gotta admit somewhere along the line that if this many people find what you have to say upsetting, there’s a reason why and they’re not crazy for seeing the offending pieces even if you don’t. you don’t have to be intentionally racist to say something racist or intentionally fatphobic to say something fatphobic or intentionally transphobic to say something transphobic etc. you may not even see what you said that was offensive but that’s why you have to listen.

you have to trust that marginalized people (and i’m directing this to marginalized people too) have spent the entirety of their lives picking up on how people speak to and about them to the point where they can see the hurtful matter underneath the seemingly kindest of words. and we’re sick of the way our personhood is approached and the way it’s hidden between words and they way the insult cuts like a knife even when it’s dressed as a compliment. you may not see the offending matter but maybe it’s important to listen to people who do, maybe it’s important to realize it’s not actually about you it’s about acknowledging hurt where hurt was dealt and listening and learning as to how it happened. you’re not evil for saying things, but there are lots of people here trying to explain why they’re flagging your words, maybe you should listen to them.

i’m japanese and which means i have flags for so many innocuous things. when people approach me with the words cute or quiet or small or comment on my hair or mention anime or mention even the most mundane part of my culture like ramen or sushi, my ears prick up. it’s a defense mechanism, all of these seemingly innocent things are things that have been used to fetishize or ostracize me, have been used to hurt me or place me beneath, i have flags on them for good reason, to protect myself. so people may not know why it feels weird to me when they use certain language around and about me, so i’ll literally tell them. it’s strange how many people i’ve known that have immediately put up their defenses because they thought i was calling them evil for saying something so innocent rather than listen to my lived experience of how this language has been used against me and why i prefer different language. it’s so strange how many queer white people i know who are amenable to my pronouns but aren’t amenable to the language i prefer to address me based on my experience being the race i am.

idk i guess the thesis of this is you’re not evil but also maybe listen to the people who are telling you there’s hurt beneath your words even if you don’t know it’s there.

[cryinhell]

so no one asked for this, but here's a post about my favorite Hazbin Hotel ships ( romantic and platonic) and what I hope they explore with them in the show.

1) Huskerdust/Angelhusk/Casino Hearts (Romantic)

Obviously, I got to start with my favorite romantic pairing in the fandom. Angel and Husk are my favorite characters in the HelluvaVerse, and both mean a lot to me. They are both old men born around the same time with a lot in common, and I know they would be close buds. From everything we have gotten in canon( fake instagrams which are not canon but in character, the fun hunicast streams, viv admitting to shipping them and allowing huskerdust into the merch, the fact that Husk was made to be Angel's bestie, and a lot of unnecessary information I know lmao, I do not doubt these two will be canon. I can't wait to see their friendship grow and all the trials and tribulations they will go through to become better for themselves and each other. And hopefully, the fun shenanigans that they do because I love me some shenanigans.

2) RadioHusk (Platonic)

Okay, so Husk's relationships with everyone interests me, but this one is probably the most after AngelHusk. It's clear these two have a past and that Alastor is comfortable enough with Husk to be incredibly annoying around him. Alastor is Husk's boss and most likely owns his soul, but there's also a strange bond between them I really want explored. I think Al loves Husk in a platonic and weird way because he's most likely his best friend, but Alastor may not be able to always express this normally. Husk is a good guy and a bit complacent, so he just deals with this shitheads nonsense and doesn't seem to fear him. Maybe there's some fucked up things between them and maybe their friendships has cons and pros. I'm not entirely sure, but I can't wait to find out

3) Angel and Vaggie (Platonic)

Okay, most of these are platonic ships, but whatever friendships are important. I love these two judgemental assholes and the way they judge people together. It truly is gay and lesbian solidarity, heh. They are gonna be the best of frienemies, and I can't wait for their relationship to be explored.

4) Voxval (Romantic)

Okay, I hate these bastards with a burning passion, but that doesn't mean their relationship does not interest me. Vox, Val, and Velvette are going to be the main villains of Hazbin Hotel, and without knowing too much about them, I'm excited. I want to know how Val and Vox are going to be as a couple. Since the instagram accounts are not canon, it is hard to tell if Val will be abusive or not. This is a possibility since the accounts seemed to be in character, but I want a different approach. I think it would be interesting for these two to genuinely love and respect each other and no one else. To see themselves as the true rightful kings of Hell and work together to destroy and belittle whoever they deem below them. It's an interesting dynamic that I prefer more than just "Val is abusive to poor baby Vox" cause Vox is also evil, and I want him to do evil shit.

5) Chaggie (Romantic)

There's not much to say about these two. I just think they are cute, and I want to see more of them.

6) The Hazbin Gang (Platonic)

And lastly, I can't wait to see how all of these fuckers get along and interact. As a group, I'm sure they will be very entertaining and I will enjoy every minute of it. Also, I am including Pentious because I know he's part of the main cast now, and I love that. Can't wait for these idiots to try and make this hotel work and hopefully grow together in the process.

[terukotime]

allow me to be super delulu for a second

if either Eden or Ace are the actual killer, that would mean one of them would be saying their secret quotes in the next coming episodes. but...do we really feel like the situation warrants them saying what their quotes are?

Ace's is: "I don't know what to do with myself anymore."

Eden's is: "You can't go back, no matter how hard you try."

Ace's feels a little strange to say in the trial. we're very close to unearthing the real culprit, and if Ace really is the killer, when would he say that? immediately upon being found out? the quote itself has their air of melancholy and defeatism, and even at his lowest, we know Ace isn't someone to concede or go down without a fight. and if he knows he's about to die, what's the point in saying "I don't know what to do with myself anymore" when he's not even going go be alive in the next few moments? He WON'T be doing anything with himself anymore, he'll be dead.

Eden's, while not as strange of a thing to say as Ace, is also kind of peculiar. when would she say it? while she's admitting to the murder? if Eden did it, sure, it's believable that she'd feel some regret, but the setup to her being the killer feels very odd now that we've gone through this big emotional moment between her and Teruko. honestly, after all that, if Eden really is the killer, i'd be more inclined to believe she WOULDN'T regret killing Arei. it'd seem like her crying and pleading was all just emotional manipulation. it also seems strange to me that Eden would have already had it in mind to kill Arei when she and Teruko found Ace, and took the opportunity to steal the tape to carry it out. i could definitely be wrong, and please correct me if i am, but i think the attempted murder was the same day as what happened with Eden and Arturo? honestly, even if it wasn't, it just feels weird to me that Eden would find some way to disguise her handwriting, set up a murder method even more elaborate than Nico's original version, and then do the whole trial pleading and sobbing for people to believe she didn't kill her and actually have regretted her actions. that shit is so premeditated that everything Eden has done thus far feels like immense emotional manipulation. while that could still be possible...it's not really that satisfying, i'd say. who knows, maybe i'm in severe denial, but i just think this characterization of Eden would be really weird. it would feel less like a betrayal of "man, this character i liked turned out to be awful", and more like a betrayal of "man, this character i liked has made a 180° in their personality without any foreshadowing of having a darker side to them".

and i'm just still really hung up on Hu. her secret quote, "I want to pay for what I've done. But even then, I still want to live." makes total sense in the context of this trial, especially after her secret reveal. and while it's pretty unlikely she took the tape from the gym, there's no guarantee that the person who took the tape at the time HAS to be the murderer. i'm just still hung up on the fact that it feels like there needs to be one last, big twist before the true killer is revealed. a moment where Teruko comes to her realization and the culprit is selected before she makes any actual accusation against them. we already knew Eden and Ace would be the ones Teruko was going to interrogate in the selection because of her explanation. just given how drdt has been written thus far, i feel like they wouldn't hand the potential answer to us like that so easily. like we wouldn't get to the point of selecting the culprit with the story already telling us it can only be one of two suspects.

it's entirely possible that i'm just coping and am refusing to accept that one of my favorite characters is actually the culprit. or that drdt could have a trial that isn't greatly written. it's totally fine if i'm wrong and Eden or Ace really is the killer, i definitely won't enjoy it much but it's not my story, nor would it completely make me drop drdt.

i honestly just needed to rant LMAO. this episode left me with a LOT of feelings.

[thegamingcatmom]

Vampire!AU where Mother Miranda takes you as her bride.

...

That is all.

.

.

.

JK-

Right so:

Miranda is obv. the Vampire Queen or whatever.

Alcina and her daughters are vampires too, obv.

So are the maids that were canonically experimented on. (Miranda gotta have some numbers.)

Since we got vampires in there, we also gotta have werewolves, right?

-> Enter Heisenberg and his lycans.

Sal is the butler (aka: The heart and soul of the house, bless him).

Donna is...a mystery.

"The Mold" is basically Miranda´s nest

Eva is alive and kicking.

And a vampire too.

She can be...scary.

Just like Momma.

The "vessel" operation is still going strong. However-

It´s her long deceased wife Miri´s trying to bring back.

Reincarnation style, if you will.

Uhhh, what else...OH-

The villagers are under some sort of vampiric mind control (aka the mold?) that allows Miranda and her coven to feed on them undisturbed.

-> Enter MC (aka The Disturbance).

aka: The bane and salvation of Miranda´s existence.

Miranda is hooked right away for obv. reasons (points to the aforementioned wife thing).

(Eva will be overjoyed to learn her Mama has returned.)

She must have MC.

Their wedding shall be a grand celebration for the whole village to see.

A celebration fit for royalty, as it should-

MC: "Uhhh...excuse me?"

Miranda: *gradually snaps out of her frenzied inner monologue to blink at MC with a mix of confusion and reverence*

MC: "I´m looking for a dude called Heisen...*checks her palm* ...bur-BERG. HeisenBERG. Do you know where I can find him, by chance?"

Miranda: *slow blinking*

MC: *slow blinking too*

Miranda: *remembers this is her soon-to-be bride*

Miranda: "Ah...forgive my...manners. *awkward smile cause being nice is indeed quite awkward, bride or not*...Heisenberg, you say? Why, yes...I am quite familiar with that...man."

Miranda: *fights back an instinctive hiss! cause werewolf*

...

MC: "...O-kay...? Can you tell me where I can find him, then?"

Miranda: *slow blinking*

MC: *slow blinking too*

Miranda, getting sus: "...And to what possible end, if I might ask?"

MC: *tf is that question*

MC, getting annoyed: "...Because I asked...?"

Miranda: *eye starts twitching as she fights back the urge to lash out at the sheer audacity-*

Miranda: *...soon.to.be.bride*

...

Miranda: "...Of course... *dark fake chuckle*...You shall find him in that factory of his. *points down the road* Follow this trail until it splits, then proceed to the right, where you will come across a large windmill. From there, it is rather impossible to miss."

Miranda, under her breath: "Unfortunately..."

MC, who is totally not weirded out by now: "...Okay...thanks. Uh...cya around?"

Miranda: *wedding bells*

Miranda: *satisfied smile starts spreading*

Miranda: "Hm...cya, indeed..."

MC: "..."

Miranda: "..."

MC: *slowly turns around and continues down the road*

Miranda: "...Little bat?"

MC: *stops in her tracks*

MC: *hesitantly turns around cause, despite being the only other person present besides Strange Lady, she still doubts whether that nickname was actually meant for her cause...whut?*

MC: "...Yes?"

Miranda: *satisfied smile becomes even more satisfied because her term of endearment has been accepted*

Miranda: *turns serious all of a sudden*

Miranda, doing her vampire compelling thing: "...Tell me."

MC, without hesitation: "He´s my uncle."

...

Miranda:

.

.

.

This was supposed to be a sexy vampire thing and then it turned into reincarnation & vampires vs werewolves with MC in the middle of it all cause our girl might just be the only one capable of uniting their worlds and ending a war that has been raging for centuries.

(Could this war have anything to do with a certain someone dying at the hands of a certain someone else? Good question. 🤔)

And it all starts with a (rather questionable) marriage.

THAT IS ALL.

.

This post was brought to you by The Invitation - a (rather poorly made) movie about vampires.

.

.

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EDIT:

NO BUT LISTEN-

Miranda going "I'll take what is due", just like she did in Resi Village? Except what is "due" is her wife, who died at the hands of one of the lycans? Or even Heisenberg himself??

Miranda going "I've waited so long for you..." when she meets MC, just like she did in Shadows of Rose when she met Rose??

THOUGHTS FEELS IDEAS 😭

(Dammit, I might actually have to write it now cause I am OBSESSED. 😩🤌)

[grendel-menz]

yo im not sure if this is a weird ask so feel free to ignore but like !! sorry i just had a moment bc ive been struggling w being half white for a long time now, like something was off my entire life with how other white people would treat me as an Other, the way they would like reduce me to an animal/the wild friend/make some weird dehumanizing comments, and despite all this not even knowing the truth of my ancestry til i was out of high school. but at the same time i felt like i could never really claim it? like i had no connection to my native side since my father wasn't allowed that so i was basically raised White and every time i looked in the mirror something told me it was wrong for me to even seek that connection. it did not help that i'd meet other half natives here who would tell me that (there is a weird culture here about rooting out "fakers" and accusing people you dont like of faking their history to get yourself more legitimacy). sorry this is all a rambly preface to say id always related to your art about ancestry and culture and finding yourself and how people treat you but felt wrong for it but then you post a picture and you're a stones throw away from me. like, we look like we could be cousins. idk i just went wow, i look like that too, its okay, i shouldnt have gatekept my connecting behind fear of... i dont even know what anymore. idk this ask has no point so from another genderweird half who hallucinates i hope u have a great week month year and i hope good things happen to you. you bring a lot of joy to people

I'm sorry you've struggled with all this, it can be really tough. My situation is a bit different since my mom never let me forget I'm Filipino. I never felt distant from being mixed, just the culture we lost due to some extraordinarily difficult circumstances in the past few generations of my moms side. I'm also lucky in that Filipinos and SEAsians as a whole tend to be very avid about welcoming mixed kids into the community (though there's a lot of racism and colorism involved in the level of acceptance someone gets, unfortunately. I'm pale and treated well, and I doubt someone darker skinned would be treated as well in certain circles.).

I can't speak for Native American communities, but I will solidly say in general that blood quantum and its enforcement is colonial. Your ancestors do not love you in halves or quarters, that would be very strange. When I have a baby I plan to love the whole thing and not just whatever dna percentage is mine. It's just important to research, support, reach out to, and represent your community to the best of your ability. (If I've misspoken here lmk.)

I have Indigenous family members, ancestry, and community, but I don't personally call myself Indigenous because I am still researching and reconnecting, and it's such a big word. There's no rush to things, go at the pace you're comfortable with when it comes to seeing yourself.

Sorry for being long winded! Hopefully that helps or yeah! :D

[thefloorisbalaclava]

I just read your "love on the brain" and it was quite amazing 😭 as well as the one where Simon lent his hoodie... any chance we could get a spicy part two to the hoodie one🥺 keep up the good work 😭🫶🏽🫶🏽

pairing: simon 'ghost' riley x f!reader

warnings: SMUT [unprotected sex, size difference, oral sex, slight choking, woman on top, missionary, aftercare]

a/n: thanks so much for reading, anon! here's your spicy part two!

[part one]

[masterlist]

You aren’t sure what comes over you, but you find yourself walking out of your room to walk the few steps to Simon’s. Before you can even knock, the door swings open, and you jump back with your fist still in the air.

“H-Hi,” you stammer, looking up into coffee-brown eyes.

Simon looks left, right, then down at you. “You all right?” he asks, leaning against the doorframe. He takes up most of the doorway.

“No. Well, yes. I think so?” You scoff at yourself.

“Which one is it, love?” he asks with an amused tone.

“I’m okay, but I am feeling a little cold,” you say slowly, blinking at him.

“Oh, I see.” He moves out of the doorway and then jerks his head towards his room to tell you to come in.

“Oh…okay.” You walk in and look around as he roots around his closet for the hoodie.

“Simon, have you ever shown any of the guys your face?” you ask suddenly. He stops what he’s doing and turns to look at you.

“It was a long time ago,” he confesses, “Why?”

You shrug. “I wonder what you look like under there sometimes. Not that it matters or anything….” Suddenly, he’s walking towards you, and your words fade away.

“What do you think I look like?” he asks. He’s holding the hoodie, but you don’t even realize it.

“Blond, maybe. Dirty blond…”

“Hm, what makes you think that?”

“Your…your eyelashes,” you say.

“You’ve noticed my eyelashes?” When he says it like that, it does sound a bit strange.

“I…yes. I notice many things…about you.” You look up at him again. “Sorry. That was weird to say, wasn’t it?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“Okay, good,” you sigh. You take the hoodie from him, your fingers brushing his. You both look at each other. “Thanks…”

You turn and walk to the door, then stop. “Si—” When you turn back, he’s right there, and his balaclava is pulled over his lips.

“Yeah?” He’s so close, and his lips look so soft. “Come here,” he breathes, pulling you by the back of your neck into a kiss. You whimper and press against him, standing on your tiptoes to deepen the kiss. He pulls away, leaving you breathless.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” he teases. “Do you like kissing me?”

You nod. “Yes.”

“Come get another, love.” He smirks as he leans in and allows you to initiate the kiss.

“It ain’t right, you tasting so good,” he says when you pull away to catch your breath.

“I…” Before you can finish your thought, he’s kissing you again, and this time you moan. You didn’t know you were moving until your back hit the door.

“Tell me what you really want,” he says, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “What are you here for?”

“You,” you breathe.

“Not the hoodie?” he asks, and you shake your head. He takes it from you and lets it fall to the ground. He traps you between his arms and looks down at you.

“Are we gonna have sex?” you ask suddenly.

“Is that what you want?” he asks.

You nod. “Yes.”

“Show me,” he says, and you immediately drop to your knees. Your hands fly to his sweatpants, yanking them down as if you couldn’t get them off fast enough.

You smile when you see he is wearing boxer briefs. You were right about that.

You were also right about what was in the boxer briefs. You pull his underwear down slowly and almost gasp when he springs free—your mouth waters. He is looking down at you, tilting his head when you look up.

Without a word, you spit on his cock, and he grunts quietly. “Fuck, do that again.” He strokes himself a few times before you spit again.

“Now, ask for permission to suck my cock,” he says, stroking himself slowly.

You look up at him innocently. “May I please suck your cock, Simon?”

“How do you ask that with such an innocent look on your face?” he asks, tilting his head. “Go on.”

When you wrap your lips around him, he stumbles back slightly as if he felt the earth move.

“Jesus,” he gasps, “I’ve imagined it, but this…this is so much better.”

Hearing the effect you had on him makes you even more eager to please, so after a few slow bobs of your head, you take him as deep as you can, and his mouth drops open slowly.

“Oh…fuck!”

You pull away, thinking you may have done something wrong.

“No, no…it’s fine. I just…it’s been a while,” he confesses before placing a hand on the back of your head. “Carry on, love.”

You look into his eyes and take him into your mouth again. You play with his balls as you suck his cock.

“Wait…wait,” he breathes. “Don’t wanna finish too soon. Get up here.”

You stand, and he begins to undress you. You watch his hands move expertly, and it makes you smile.

“On the bed. Spread your legs nice and wide for me.” He nods towards the bed, and you climb on. You prop yourself up on your elbows and spread your legs slowly. He climbs on eagerly, immediately putting his head between your legs.

His face is right there, but he doesn’t do anything—he looks. “Fuckin’ beautiful,” he says, and heat rises to your face.

He gives your pussy a few tentative licks to see how you react then there’s no stopping him. He is devouring you. He keeps his eyes on you for as long as he can, but eventually, his eyes close in pleasure as if he is eating a home-cooked meal after not having one for a long time.

He was starving.

He pulls away, breathing heavily. “This pussy…God…” is all he says before spitting on it and sliding two fingers inside you. You hiss, and he looks up at you.

“Don’t know how I’m gonna fit,” he tells you. His fingers graze your g-spot, and you cry out.

“Simon,” you moan.

“No, I don’t want you to cum like this. I want you to cum on my cock. I want to feel it.” He makes his way up to where you are and lies down.

“What now?” you breathe.

“You…on top,” he says, “That way, you can control the pace and how much you can take.”

“Okay…” You sit up, and he helps you climb on top of him.

“You nervous?” he asks, and you nod. “It’s all right, love. Take your time.”

You lean in. “Can I kiss you again, Simon?”

“’ Course,” he says, and he lets out a small moan as your lips touch his. You keep your hands on his chest for balance when you sit up. You adjust yourself as he holds his cock still for you.

“Take your time,” he says again, voice trembling.

You lower yourself slowly, feeling the tip slip in, already stretching you. You bite your lip and lower yourself a little more.

“Fuck,” you whimper, your nails digging into his chest. “So fucking big, Lieutenant.”

He grabs your ass with both hands and spreads your cheeks as he helps you slide onto him inch by inch.

Before long, he is almost entirely inside you. You both are sweaty and breathless, but you want this more than anything. In a move that surprises him, you take him the rest of the way by yourself. You call out, and he grunts loudly.

“What the fuck are you doing, love?” he asks, voice strained.

“Riding… you,” you tell him before moving your hips in slow circles.

“Ah, just like that…” he moans, “Just. Like. That. Taking me so well.”

“Yeah?” Your hands stay on his chest, and you realize how small they look compared to his broadness. Subconsciously, you begin to move faster, the initial sting turning into something pleasurable.

“Such a good girl riding my cock like this. Are you gonna cum for me?” he asks, and you nod.

“Y-Yes, Simon.”

“Don’t stop saying my name.” Now, he starts controlling you, his hands on your ass, moving you up and down at his own pace. Each time you came down, your clit brushed against his pubic hair, which gave you just the friction you needed to…

“Simon…I’m gonna cum…I can’t…I-I-I…”

“Let go, love. Let me feel you.”

Your nails dig and scratch at his chest as your eyes roll back, and you begin to cum on him. Your body jerks on top of him, and your arms nearly give out.

“Look at the mess you made,” he says, and you come back to earth.

“Sorry,” you say weakly, and he chuckles.

“That doesn’t need an apology.” He carefully lowers you to the bed and nestles himself between your legs. “May I?” he asks.

“Please, Simon.” You whimper as he thrusts into you again. He keeps a slow pace, but each thrust is hard and deep. You reach up and put both of your hands around his neck. He makes a sound you have never heard before as his eyes roll back into his head.

He liked it.

You squeeze just a little, and he fucks you faster.

“Gonna cum inside you,” he says. “Gonna…cum…” He brings himself closer to you, covering you with his body and pressing you into the mattress. He buries his face into your neck and sniffs.

“Smell so fuckin’ good, love. Ah, shit!” You wrap your arms around him as he cums with three hard thrusts that make his headboard slam against the wall.

He stays on top of you for a moment, kissing your neck before gently kissing your lips.

“You all right?” he asks.

“Yeah.” You smile. He gives you one more kiss before rolling off you and staring at the ceiling. He gets out of bed and walks to the bathroom before returning to you. You notice that he picks up the hoodie on his way back.

He cleans you off, taking care to be gentle between your legs.

“Here,” he says, handing you the hoodie. “My room can get a little cold at night.”

“Thank you.” If that is his way of asking you to stay, you’ll take it. You put the hoodie on and curl up against him.

“It’s yours for however long you want it,” he says quietly before kissing your forehead.

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

Warmly greet!🫰 I just came across your blog today and I'm already in love with it!🖤🖤🖤 Could I leave a request here where Puppeteer, Jason, Candy Pop and LJ have a S/O who has insecurities about not being good enough for them? Because, come on...they're supernatural, not quite human, and their S/O is a regular, weak human, at least from the S/O's point of view...

Oooh thank you, friend! Also, i never get to write for Candypop or LJ so i am excited to do it!

Thank you so much for requesting!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Puppeteer

He will just kind of stare at you when you tell him those feelings

Like??? Are you kidding???

He is so obsessively in love with you that the thought of you feeling like you aren't enough for him is wild to him

Instantly he will assure you that you are more than he could ever dream of, and how much he loves you

He doesnt love you for supernatural abilities or powers, he loves you for you

Again, the thought of you not being enough for him doesn't even really comprehend in his mind

it's so insane to him that you, his most favorite person in the world who he couldn't live without, thinks that they aren't enough for him

If anything, he isn't enough for you, in his opinon

you are a literal deity walking on earth, and he is lucky enough to even witness your beauty and you think you arent enough???

Yeah, those thoughts are snuffed out rather quickly by him

He will spend the entire day going over every little thing he adores about you if he has to

Jason The Toymaker

He is just kind of confused when you express your feelings to him

"Now, what's this all about?" he asks with a pitiful look towards you

He honestly thinks that it's kind of weird that those feelings are even something humans are capable of feeling

What does he care that you don't have any weird abilities?

"Even when you are old and grey I will still love you. I will love you when you are in pain, and I will love you when you are happy. You being human makes no difference to me, because I love you. Even when you breathe your last breath, your soul will live on with me in the form of my favorite doll I will keep on a special shelf, pristine and upkept"

He's kind of a helpless romantic lol

Bro gave you a whole essay

anyways, he literally could not care less if you are magical or not, he's just thinks you're neat <33

CandyPop

He kind of thinks its funny that you think that

He will snort and look at you like you're joking "why??"

"You shouldn't feel that way. It's pointless to. Because you and I both know that no matter what, I still love you. I wouldn't be with you if I didn't like you at least a little bit"

He will joke around with you and make you try to feel good about being human

You are allowed to go pretty much wherever you please without being called a demon, he can't

Your squishy flesh human body is quite sustainable on its own, being able to morph and adapt to extreme situations, which he thinks is neat

And his personal favorite about humans, specifically you, you have such a wide array of expressing yourself! You have emotions, art, studies, etc

He loves you being human and you not liking being human is strange to him

Laughing Jack

He understands the insecurity

He can't say he's ever felt it, because he gives literally no fucks, but he understands

He will do whatever you want him to do about it, really

Lord knows he doesn't know what to do

If you wanna rant, he'll listen

If you wanna just be doted on, that's what he'll do

Whatever makes you feel better

Honestly, he does find it a little peculiar that you don't like being human

Like, if he could be 5'10", wear whatever he wants, do whatever he wants, go whatever he wants, etc, he'd be soooo happy

His 7'6" ass could never

[univac1219]

Does your 1219 have a nickname?

Also, I was wondering if you have any fun stories surrounding it! Strange quirks it has or anything like that.

I'd love to see more photos if you're allowed to post them!

Thanks for the question! These are my favorite part about my blog by far.

Not exactly, the UNIVAC 1219 doesn’t have a nickname. I did realize recently that I should specify the pronunciation (Twelve-Nineteen), but it doesn’t have any nicknames. Apart from ‘the 1219’, it’s also regularly referred to as the CPU or just ‘the computer’.

Fun stories or weird quirks? Boy, I could fill a book with this machine’s weird quirks (or as we say, intermittent issues), but I’ll try to blitz through the most common ones:

Sometimes the computer will stop running and enter a WAIT mode. No reason, it just needs a break. We can’t fix it, it just has to decide to go back into operating mode.

The computer will often start attempting to communicate on IO channel 13. We’re not telling it to talk to anything, it just decides to try to.

One of our teletypes (the Kleinshmidt) stamps ink splotches into the paper rather than characters most of the time. However, this weekend it worked for the first time in 10 months! We didn’t change anything, it just had an extra cup of coffee or something.

The Digital Data Recorder, or the tape drive, has the most gremlins out of any of our units. The top handler works fairly well, but the bottom handler won’t properly read data, write data, move the tape forward, initialize the tape, or any number of other issues.

There’s more but hopefully this satisfies your curiosity.

Fun stories? Well, I can’t name any specific ones, but I can say it’s a very endearing machine. It’s the very last of its kind and being one of three individuals in the world responsible for it makes every issue that more frustrating. There is no real forum for it, the subject matter experts sit next to me and are often just as exasperated as I am.

But the unique nature of this situation make every successful diagnostic test that much sweeter. Every new addition (5.25” floppy drive via serial) that much cooler. I have an IBM PC-XT clone at home, but I thank my lucky stars every day that this big iron is what I get to specialize in.

As for more photos, I have none that are as grandiose as you would probably expect. I do have my working photos though. I took all my photos when I first started working on it and now I am more dedicated to fixes than photo-ops.

This is a photo of our finicky Kleinshmidt teletype. Still has blotches but it actually printed!

This is the back of the bottom handler. Pictured is the vacuum pump in the bottom left (so sudden stops just yank magnetic tape slack rather than ripping tape). The big cylinder in the center is a motor for running the magnetic tape handler itself. The big black ‘hose’ of wires coming out of the steel plate contains all the cables that come right off the handler’s head for reading and writing data!

This is the forward pinch roller of the bottom handler. It was replaced after this photo was taken as you can see the rubber has deteriorated in the 55 years this machine has been operating.

As for being allowed to post photos, that’s not an issue. The last 1219 was decommissioned in 2014 and now you can find all of its documentation online at http://www.bitsavers.org/pdf/univac/military/1219/