#sorry for not quite giving you more to interact with right off the bat

[oathofmoonlight]

@ammakou // starter call

There's something especially frustrating about finding a world with a culture so close to their own. Walking up to a place looking and talking like a local, but lacking any sort of real information - locations, goings-on, the names and rules a local had ought to know - tended to create some confusion. At worst, it made people suspicious.

Yuuki was old enough (and smart enough) to know that it was really better off to let his sister handle whatever business needed to be done in the village nearby. He wasn't nearly as skilled as she was when it came to that, and there was plenty for him to do in the meantime anyway. Find a good spot to make camp, for one. Then refill their water, and look for something to start a fire, maybe. And... well, that was about it for now, actually. So, mainly, all he really had to do was wait.

Which was - critically - extremely boring. He'd taken to entertaining himself by going through some sword exercises that his sister had drilled into him. Well, more like improvising some attacks based on those exercises. Loosely.

The tree he was taking his boredom out on wouldn't mind, would it? (It's not like he was using a real sword, after all.)

[nikkento-writes]

Rub You the Right Way - Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Choso x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: ~3.0k

cw: female reader, 2nd-person POV, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut – cunnilingus, use of sex toys, cum eating, PIV sex (missionary), breeding and pregnancy kink

Summary: You and Choso are next-door neighbors who are very much smitten with one another. After a month of dirtying up third base as much as possible, the both of you are finally ready to hit it out of the park. 

Author’s Notes: Baseball euphemisms because why not LOL? Thank you for reading! I love these dorks so much! This is the final installment of this teeny tiny series, so thank you all so much for the love and support on this, it means the world to me! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are not expected but always appreciated. Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

��Damn, that was good!” Yuji exclaims, licking off the last of the chicken katsu curry from the rim of the bowl. He leans back on one hand, rubbing his belly with the other, a loud belch escaping his mouth. “Oops, sorry,” he apologizes, only a little bit embarrassed.

You giggle, stacking his empty dish on top of the others, standing up to place it in the sink. “I’m so glad you liked it. I couldn’t have done it without your brother, though. He’s a really good teacher.” 

“See, I told you, didn’t I?” Yuji smirks, pleased with himself. 

“It’s not hard to make, especially with the boxed curry mix.” Choso’s voice is bashful, downplaying the praise from both you and his brother. Still, you can sense the tiniest hint of pride in there.

“He’s too modest.” You return to the table to sit next to him, nudging him playfully.

Yuji rolls his eyes. “I know! It’s so frustrating! Seriously, you’ve got to give yourself more credit, bro. You’re awesome.” The blush on Choso’s cheeks are adorably obvious now as he continues to wave off the compliments. 

“Yeah, you really are,” you reiterate, resting your hand on top of his thigh, squeezing him gently. With the table obscuring his view, Yuji can’t see this small gesture, nor does he notice the subtle way Choso reacts, flustered and slightly aroused. He’s been wanting to touch you all night, but not in front of his precious baby brother, who remains clueless to the extent of your relationship. Before you can pull away completely, not wanting to rattle him any further, he hooks his pinky with yours, his grip unyielding. You smile to yourself, the two of you linked together while you chat with Yuji about your plans the rest of the night, which consists of Choso teaching you how to make a lovely castella cake, amongst other not-so-innocent activities. For the sake of Yuji’s virtue, you decide to leave that part out. 

It's been over a month now that you and Choso started your relationship after that unfortunate package mix-up, which ended up not being unfortunate at all. By total accident, you unboxed his brand spanking new Cock Sucker 3000, and in a bizarre attempt to alleviate any awkwardness from the situation, you proceeded to use your own sex toy in front of him while he demonstrated his, resulting in the hottest night of your life. Two days following that, after another ridiculous misunderstanding, the both of you realized your feelings for one another and decided to give this a shot. 

You’ve learned so much about him, most importantly that he’s quite the fragile soul, often distrusting of strangers right off the bat. The last thing you want is for him to lose his trust in you, so taking it day-by-day, little-by-little, is what works the best for the both of you. The two of you have remained on third base when it comes to sex, which you’re not complaining about one bit, considering how voracious you’ve been with each other. You’re waiting for the right time to finally hit that home run, a grand slam at this rate. It could happen tonight, tomorrow, maybe even a few more months from now. All you know for certain is that you’re happy with Choso, and he’s happy with you. That’s all that matters.

However, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t fantasizing about it already. You can’t help yourself when you’re with him. In front of others, he’s usually more reserved, timid. Alone with you, his confidence unveils. His touches are assured all over your body, an expert at all the big and little ways to make you moan in pleasure. The range of expressions he’s willing to show you, from unabashedly needy to absolutely feral, make your body tingle just thinking about it. And that voice, sweet and soft when he’s coaxing you, then to that sexy, gruffy tone as he ravishes you, whether it’s with his fingers, his mouth, his firm grip on the vibrator. It’s no shock that you’ve imagined the perfect way he’d slide into you, filling you up to the brim with his massive cock. Hell, you’ve admitted it to each other several times already, how badly you both want it, how good it’d feel to be bounded together as one. You keep reminding yourself to be patient, because when it does happen, it will be well worth the wait. 

The three of you hang out a while longer until Yuji announces that he’s leaving to get ready for a party with his friends. Choso gives his brother a big hug, handing him a small bag of leftovers to take with him back to his university apartment. “Don’t party too hard this weekend,” he warns him sternly, sounding like a protective parent. “Behave yourself. Don’t make Fushiguro take care of you and Kugisaki again.” 

Yuji beams at him. “Megumi likes taking care of us! That’s his idea of fun!” He looks at you, a mischievous grin on his face. “You two behave yourselves too, alright? Don’t forget to use protection.” 

Shit. Okay, so maybe he does know.

Choso stiffens, an uncomfortable noise gurgling in his throat, clearly stunned by Yuji’s remark. You let out a loud and nervous laugh, desperately trying to play it cool, though you two idiots couldn’t make this any more obvious. “We’re just making castella cake, remember? We’re not having sex at all! Just some good clean fun here, nothing naughty! Right, Choso?” You’re so frazzled that you accidentally kick your boyfriend a tad too hard in the ankle, enough for him to yelp. “Right, Choso?!”

Sweat beads on your forehead while he bumbles incoherently now, failing to his explain your bizarre reactions to his younger brother, who just stands there, very pleased with himself. “Oh, I meant oven mitts,” Yuji smiles innocently, completely unfazed. “You know, for your hands.” He turns on his heel to see himself out while Choso continues to gape at him. “See you two lovebirds next week!” he calls out from over his shoulder, waving until he’s out of sight.

Choso unclenches to close the door while you bury your face in your palms, ashamed of yourself. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

He surrounds you in his sweet embrace, relaxed and actually laughing. “At least you said something. I just stood there like an idiot.”

You peer up at him, pouting at him. “You’re not an idiot, take it back.”

“I take it back,” he relents, giving you a kiss on the forehead. 

Nuzzling your nose to his, you mention, “I guess that was our way of telling him, right?”

“I had a hunch he already knew,” he responds. “Yuji’s no dummy. He was already telling me stuff a few weeks ago.”

“What did he say?”

“Well, he was the one who told me to be friends with you. He’s even the one who first suggested inviting you to our family dinners.”

Your heart swells in your chest. “Really?”

He nods, a kind smile on his face. “Yeah. Yuji is a sweet kid, so I figured he was just being polite. But maybe he sees you and me being…y’know.”  

You smirk, giddy to hear the rest of his sentence. “What?”

His voice is quiet, shy from the sudden vulnerability he’s displaying. “A good fit? I don’t know, what do you think?” Despite all that’s happened between the two of you within a month, Choso still has his doubts, his insecurities. The last relationship he had ended because he caught his ex cheating. From then on, he’s been reluctant to let his guard down and trust someone with his heart again. You don’t blame him for being so cautious when it comes to love, so you do everything in your power to validate his emotions, reassure him that you care for him just as much as he cares for you. 

You hold him close, your heart thumping at a rapid pace. “I think we’re a perfect fit.” 

He swallows down whatever nerves were tightening in his throat, relieved to hear you say it, even though he’s never doubted your true intentions. Hearing it in your voice, seeing it in your kind eyes gives him the strength to tear down all the walls he’s built around himself to let you in. Inching closer, voice still quiet, he asks, “Can we…?”

You don’t let him finish his thought as you lean forward to press your lips to his. His arms squeeze you in a tighter embrace, nearly lifting you off your feet as he kisses you passionately. Your mouths move seamlessly together, his hands gliding smoothly along your waist, yours gently caressing his face, proving that the two of you are the perfect fit indeed. There’s dishes in the sink waiting to be washed, a castella cake waiting to be baked, but who are you kidding? This is what you need right now, to have Choso’s body on yours, to taste him, to devour him, completely lose yourself in him. And that’s exactly what he needs too. 

The two of you make your way inside his bedroom, not letting the other go for even a second, kisses sloppy now, all tongue and spit. He’s quick to undress you, palms moving evenly beneath your blouse. You stretch your arms up, letting him remove it completely, his eyes fixated on your breasts, still covered by your bra. He squeezes at them, his grip firm, thumbs brushing across your nipples. Desperate to feel him without this extra layer of clothing, you turn around, wanting him to unhook the clasp, which he does. His lips graze you, peppering soft kisses along your shoulder while he pinches at your nipples with the perfect amount of pressure to have you moaning. “You love it when I play with your tits like this,” he whispers, mouth hot on your ear. It isn’t a question; he says it with confidence, bordering on cockiness with the way he smirks at every little whine that escapes you. You love this switch from shy and sweet to bold and unashamed, always eager to fulfill his sexual appetite for you. 

“I do,” you answer breathlessly, his cock hard and throbbing between your ass cheeks as you grind against him. “You know I do, baby.”

“Fuck, I love it when you call me that,” he groans, sucking on your ear lobe. One hand travels past your navel, tugging at your waistband. 

Your crane your neck to meet his lips. “You’re my baby. You’re all mine, Choso.”

He moans into your mouth, lapping at your tongue. “Yeah, I’m yours. I’m all yours.”

You slide out of your pants, leaving your panties on, the silk ones he adores on you. On the bed, you lie on your back, watching him strip the rest of his clothes off while he towers over you, licking his lips when he positions in his head between your spread legs. He’s been indulging in this recently, eating you out through your panties, getting them soaking wet with his spit and your slick. His gaze meets yours, those typically kind eyes hiding something feral brewing inside him. He’s masterful with his tongue, spreading it wide on your clit, puckering his lips around you until you’re squirming. You grab hold of his head, grasping strands of his soft hair as he devours you. 

As if this wasn’t enough for him, he hums into your skin, pointing at the bedside drawer. He doesn’t have to say it; you already know what he wants. You’ve made it a habit now to keep a few of your sex toys at his place, including your most favorite vibrator, the same exact one you demonstrated for him when all of this first started. It soon became his favorite too. You pass it to him shakily, already at the edge, ready to burst any second. He takes it, holding the tip to your covered clit, the fabric properly drenched now. The vibrations start instantly as he pushes the button, causing you to jolt from the sensation. “Fuck!” you cry out, toes curling, knees wobbly. “Please, Choso.”

“Please what?” he teases, stroking his cock with his free fist. 

“Please take them off,” you beg, writhing below him.

He smiles wickedly, hooking the waistband of your underwear, slowly peeling them off you. “That’s my good girl.”

You kick them off frantically, immediately spreading yourself for him once more. “Hurry, baby,” you whine. 

With the vibe still buzzing in his hand, he leans down, giving you a wet smooch on your clit, then presses the fluttering tip to it. Pleasure radiates from your core to every limb of your body and you eventually reach your first climax of the night. 

“God, I love how fucking wet you get,” Choso moans, licking up and down your slit, savoring your orgasm. “So fucking sexy. Makes me want to come.” Precum leaks from the tip of his dick as he jerks himself faster, lips coated in your arousal as he continues to use the toy on you while drinking every drop of you up. 

“Fuck, you’re going to make me come again,” you say, trying to catch your breath. It’s both too much and not enough. The vibrations are relentless on your clit, his tongue hot and wet on your pussy. You’re drunk off this, head light as air, vision getting hazy. Drool spills from one side of your lips, losing control of your composure as you succumb to yet another orgasm, this time, with two of his fingers inside you. 

“So greedy,” he grins, his cock stiff against his abdomen. He takes his digits out of you, spreading your cum on his shaft. “You want more, sweetheart?”

You reach for his cock, desperate to have him fully inside you. “I want all of you.”

His demeanor changes at this, almost like you’ve said the magic words. He swallows nervously, stopping the toy and setting it aside. “Are you serious?”

You smile, nodding at him. “I want all of you, Choso. But if you’re not ready – ”

“I’m ready.” It stumbles out of his mouth in a rush, as if he’s been meaning to say it for a while now. “I want you. I always want you.”

“You have me.” You tug him towards you, wrapping your arms and legs around him, nuzzling your nose to his. “You’ll always have me.” 

He kisses you, humming softly against your lips. “You’re amazing,” he whispers, tapping the tip of his dick on your swollen clit. 

You twitch at his touch, already sensitive from earlier, but still so needy to be filled by him. “Hurry,” you beg him, gyrating your hips, losing your patience. 

“Condom,” he mutters, reaching towards your nightstand, eyes focused on how close his cock is to being inside you. 

You snap yourself out of whatever dangerous desires are playing through your head and nod in agreement, stretching your arm out to open the drawer, blindly retrieving the box of condom wrappers and small bottle of lube. With trembling fingers, he unwraps the condom, rolling it over his cock, coating a generous amount of lube on it. He eases inside you, both of you moaning as you stretch around him perfectly. When he’s to the hilt, he stays still for a moment, kissing you fervently, so happy to finally be connected with you like this. “Is this good?” he asks, always adorably concerned about you. 

You giggle, hugging him tighter. “It’s amazing baby.”

Reassured, he starts thrusting, pulling out ever-so-slightly to pound right back inside you. You squeeze every inch of him as he fucks you deeper, fighting the urge to come on the spot. It’s so damn good, too fucking good, like he’s on this euphoric high, impossible to come down. He can’t believe how incredible this feels, even with the condom on, and it makes him want to burst thinking about the near future when he’ll have a chance to do you without it. How pretty you’d look with his cum spilling out you. That fucked-out expression on your face as you beg him to breed you. The gorgeous belly when you’re pregnant with his baby...

Choso has to physically shake his head to rid these obscene fantasies from his thoughts. He really can’t help himself when he’s with you. Grunting with each thrust, he resists the temptation to pull this condom off to give it to you raw, reminding himself that patience is a virtue and that the two of you have all the time in the world.

It doesn’t take long for the both of you to come. As soon as you’re right at the edge of your third climax of the night, you cry out, “Right there, baby! Fuck me right there!” holding him tight as you spill all over his cock. He comes as soon as you finish, certain that if you weren’t using protection and assuming you’re currently ovulating, he’d surely get you pregnant with how fucking intense this load was. Choso pulls out, carefully pulling off the condom, taking a couple of seconds to marvel at all the cum you managed to draw out of him. You laugh, watching him as he ties the open end to toss into the nearby trash bin. “Is it a lot?”

He snuggles up next to you, nuzzling his nose to your neck, back to his precious puppy-dog cuteness. “If we weren’t using protection, it would have definitely gotten you pregnant.”

You joke, “And is that a bad thing?”

He rests a hand on your stomach, his touch tender and sweet. “Not at all. I wouldn’t mind raising a little baby with you.”

Normally, you’d freak out. Normally, Choso would freak out. But for some odd reason, the idea of sharing a future together, of raising a family together, seems right. And while it’s only been a month, you’re both confident that the two of you will be spending a long, healthy, loving life with each other. 

Choso’s phone vibrates on the nightstand, rousing the two of your from your post-coital snuggle session. When he reads whatever notification he’s received, he chuckles, turning the screen towards you, displaying a text message from Yuji:

So…how’s that castella cake? ;)

He types up a quick reply before putting his phone on silent to spend the rest of the night cuddling you uninterrupted. 

Absolutely perfect.

[stevie-petey]

episode six: the spy

Steve looks like a kicked puppy as you storm ahead of him and Dustin, putting enough distance between you guys so that you can’t hear their conversion that follows.  “Shit…” “You’re awful with women.” Dustin says, now continuing to walk. He doesn’t bother to follow after you, knowing that you need your space to cool down. “I wouldn’t follow her, by the way. Let her cool off.” Steve sighs, now walking as well, “Yeah, I know.” 

Summary: dustin and steve haggle a butcher, you throw some meat at steve and then have a weird conversation about love, you stop dustin from becoming an incel, and then you wrestle some demodogs like any real woman would. side note: steve is hot protecting the kids.

Rating: general, violence and swearing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, violence and swearing, blood mention and ptsd mention, weapons, fire, probably more

Words: 17.1k (i fear how much longer these next few chapters become)

Before you swing in: its here !!! god, this chapter was ROUGH. the conversations between bug and steve took many rewrites and editing. i wanted to get it just right, and finally i think im satisfied with where they landed. bug and steve aside, i absolutely loved writing this chapter with the kids. i sincerely hope you guys enjoy, this chapter took blood, sweat, n tears lmao

-

You’re the first to break the silence as you all stare at the hole Dart created in the wall in shock.

An obnoxiously loud yawn escapes your lips, and Dustin and Steve shoot you simultaneous weird glances. You feel your face heat up in embarrassment. “Sorry… It’s been a long day.”

Steve huffs. “Yeah, no kidding.”

Dustin clears his throat before standing up. He wipes off some dirt that got on his jeans and then offers you his hand so that he can pull you up as well. You accept it and stand, your bones a deep, weary type of heavy that only comes from pure exhaustion. 

“Okay,” Dustin begins, and you can already see a plan forming in his mind. “Steve, you’ll spend the night here so that way we can all get up bright and early to start our search for Dart.” 

Steve attempts to argue, but Dustin puts his hand up to shush him and continues with his speech. The older boy throws his hands up in the air and gives you a look of disbelief over your brother’s antics. You stifle a laugh, which he only rolls his eyes at. Steve, whether he likes it or not, will have to get used to Dustin’s… Dustin-ness.

“If he escaped through the tunnel, then we have to assume that there’s an opening somewhere above ground.” Dustin finishes. 

You nod your head slowly, still unconvinced. “Okay, but how do we find him? Better yet, what happens when we do? It took Nancy with a shotgun, my knives, Steve’s batting skills, a ton of fire, and almost dying a bunch of times to take down the Demogorgon.” 

Dustin lets out a tired sigh. “I’ll figure it all out, alright? For now, let’s just get some sleep. Maybe it’ll come to me in a dream or something.” 

“A dream? Seriously?” Steve looks at the two of you as if you guys will start laughing and tell him it’s all a giant joke. Unfortunately, it isn’t. 

Steve spent all last year and most of the summer getting to know you. He’s used to your quips and soft spoken teasing, but Dustin? He’s uncharted territory and you’re secretly relishing in seeing Steve fumble around him. You’ve never had anyone else interact with your brother before, only Jonathan, so this change is odd, but welcomed. 

Dustin pays no attention to you and Steve as he begins heading up the steps, back to your home. Once he disappears, you nudge your shoulder against Steve’s. “You know you don’t actually have to spend the night, right?”

“Ya know, I can’t quite tell if the kid will let me leave or not.”

You laugh. “He’s harmless… Mostly. I promise I won’t let him bite, but I also understand if you want to leave.”

Steve looks away, sensing the undertones of what you’re saying. You’re giving him another out, one last chance to leave and go back to pretending like everything's okay. You wouldn’t blame him, and you get a sense of deja-vu from that night at Jonathan’s. When you tried coaxing Steve to leave, to spare himself from everything he inevitably ended up suffering from. 

After a minute or so, Steve shakes his head. “I’ll stay. You need my help.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say need–”

“Shut up and let me help you, Y/N.”

You sigh. There’s no arguing with him, he’s made up his mind and your truce that you shook on ten minutes ago burns your hand. He’s staying. 

“A ‘please’ would’ve sufficed, but fine.” You link your arm around Steve’s and make your way up the cellar steps. “C’mon, Dustin is probably waiting for us with some new insane plan for where you’ll sleep.”

– 

You know that your mom is safe, off at the other side of town, searching for your dead cat, but it’s still lonely walking into your empty home. Dustin is standing in the living room waiting, but you can see that it makes him uneasy as well. 

Steve follows behind you and takes a look around. When he spots the lumpy, old, sagging couch in front of the window, he frowns. It’s barely bigger than he is, his feet would definitely hang over the edge. “This my bed for tonight?”

“It’ll have to be, unless you want to come snuggle with me in my bed.” Dustin says. 

“I wouldn’t, he kicks in his sleep,” you tell Steve, attempting to make light of the situation. 

“That doesn’t surprise me,” he snorts. Then, as if he’s done this a million times before, Steve flings himself onto your couch and his feet do indeed hang over the edge. “Oh, yeah. This will definitely be cozy.”

You wince. “I’m sorry, you’re still free to go home. I completely understand and–”

“Unless…” Dustin begins to brighten up and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Pure horror washes over you; you know that look on his face. He’s scheming. 

“Dustin, whatever is about to come out of your mouth–”

“Y/N has this giant bean bag in her room. Practically takes up the whole space, and, luckily for you, my new friend, it’s Steve-sized.”

Steve whips his head to face you, a curious look on his face. “You don’t say, Little Henderson?”

Both boys look at you, a matching glint of evil in their eyes, and you realize you’re trapped. When did they manage to sync up to make you miserable?

You weigh your options against your morals. On one hand, it’s your room and you and Steve are still warming back up to each other. However, on the other hand, Jonathan has spent countless nights on that bean bag himself. 

Dustin’s right. Steve would fit perfectly. 

Damn him. 

You shuffle your feet, averting Steve’s eyes. “I mean, I guess you’d fit.” 

“You guess? Steve, she’s had Jonathan sleep on that thing like a bajillion times.” Dustin waves his arms out, gleeful that he’s won. “In fact, I think our mom specifically bought it just for him.”

He now steps closer to Steve and eyes him up and down. “I’d bet money that you two are about the same size, so as I stated earlier: it’s Steve-sized.”

“I’m actually taller than him, so…” Steve mumbles to no one in particular, but quickly clears his throat and changes the subject. “And I’d finally be able to see Y/N Henderson’s room? Count me in.”

You blush furiously. He’s getting a kick out of all of this and he’s such a little shit, honestly. You’re not sure why the thought of having Steve Harrington in your room, eager to be in your room, makes your stomach flutter and your cheeks burn painfully. 

Steve sees your blush and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “C’mon, Y/N. It’ll be like a sleepover.”

“You’re far too pleased about all of this.”

“We can pretend to be back at Bookstrordinary. I’ll even stack some books that you definitely have in your room.”

Dustin stands between you and Steve, his face alight with joy and curiosity. “Can I please know when you two became best friends?”

“No, you hid Dart from me.”

“I’m not gonna live that down, am I?”

“Nope.”

Steve clears his throat, clearly amused by your banter with Dustin but still unsure about everything going on. “So… What do ya say, Y/N?”

You bite your lip and look at him. He’s pathetically too large for the couch, it wouldn’t be fair to just force him to sleep there because of the weird way he makes you feel as if you’re floating yet falling all at the same time. 

Exhaling, you give in. “Fine, but do not touch any of my books in the room.”

“Yes!” Steve high fives Dustin and you roll your eyes at them both. 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. It’s late, can we please just go to bed now?”

Dustin sends you a wink, which thankfully Steve doesn’t see. “Sure, sis. Have a good night.”

And with that, probably because he senses you’re about to throw a shoe at him, Dustin flees the living room and runs to his room. As soon as he’s gone, Steve bats his eyelashes at you and playfully teases, “Take me to bed, Y/N.”

You snort, despite how exhausted you are. “Never say those words to me again.”

He laughs and stands up, following behind you as you guide him towards your own room. A part of you feels like you should give him a house tour, but logistically it’d be useless. You can’t imagine that Steve would be over at your house again once the Dart situation is handled. 

You have to remind yourself that there are still roses for Nancy, currently wilting, in the backseat of Steve’s car. 

They’ll work things out eventually, or maybe they won’t, but Nancy Wheeler still has Steve Harrington’s heart. He is her’s entirely. 

Lost in thought, you almost miss the turn to your room and have to grab the back of Steve’s jacket and yank him towards your bedroom door. 

“Hey–” 

“Sorry, my room is here.” 

“You Hendersons are just a delightful bunch, ya know that?” 

“Be thankful you don’t have to meet our mother, honestly.” You fling your bedroom door open and gently push Steve inside. 

As soon as he’s in your room, you watch as he takes it all in. His eyes scan every corner of the room, and you hold your breath as you wait for them to land on the Spider-Man poster he gave you for Christmas last year. 

When Steve sees it, he smiles shyly at you. “I see you kept the gift.”

“Duh,” you walk over to your bed and sit down. “Still one of the best gifts I’ve ever been given.”

“One of?” He asks, tone light but curious. 

Unconsciously, your fingers go to your bee necklace from Jonathan. You play with the pendant and smile softly. “Sorry, Jonathan kinda beat you to it.”

“I figured,” he shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, uncomfortable. “I noticed the necklace the day I gave you the poster. Didn’t want to, uh, assume. I guess. But the necklace was from him?”

“It was,” you clear your throat, talking about Jonathan with Steve has always been such a foreign feeling for you. 

Steve seems to be thinking the same thing and starts to wander around your room instead. You silently thank whatever god is up there for giving you the motivation to clean your room earlier that week. Normally you’re a neat person, but ever since Will started showing signs of post-traumatic stress, you’ve spent more time obsessively researching rather than tidying up.

Therefore, there’s still books strewn across your desk alongside some comics. Steve sees a Spidey one and holds it up with a laugh. “He’s everywhere.”

“He is.” You say proudly, now getting up to go into your closet to pull out the blankets and pillows usually reserved for Jonathan.

Steve wanders around some more as you dig through your closet. He lingers in front of your dresser, which holds photos of you, Dustin, and Jonathan. 

“Here,” you hand the bedding to Steve and motion to where the bean bag is. 

He looks up from a photo of you and Jonathan from last year. It’s your favorite of the two of you, he stands behind you in the picture with his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. You’re both smiling widely at the camera, the moment captured by Will because he wanted to try out the camera Jonathan had gotten that summer. 

“You guys are really close, huh?” Steve asks.

You nod, although confused by his question. He spent half the summer with you and Jonathan at your job. You had conversations about your friendship together, but you suppose it’s different seeing the excess of love you have for the boy within your room. Jonathan is everywhere, if you look hard enough, you’ll find him. 

Steve pauses for a second, as if he wants to say something else, but shakes his head and turns towards the bean bag. He arranges the pillows so that they’re flush against the wall facing your bed, which you think is an odd choice, but say nothing. Once he’s arranged the pillows and blankets, Steve turns to you and clears his throat. 

“I hate to ask this, I really do, but I also don’t want to sleep in these jeans,” he waves his hands over his pants, which have always been a bit tighter than you thought was necessary. “Any chance I could wear something of Jonathan’s?”

You think for a moment and dig through your dresser. “I’m not sure, but if I can’t find anything of his then I think my old camp t-shirt can fit. As for pants, won’t your boxers work fine?”

Steve’s face turns red and he clears his throat once more, speaking in a slightly squeaky voice, “Y–yeah, I guess so.”

He’s stumbling over his words, which makes you pause. There’s no possible way that he’s nervous right now. He’s usually so confident and comfortable around you. Hell, last summer he offered to be your first kiss (by kissing his fingers and pressing them against your lips, but still). 

“Are you shy right now, Steve?”

“What? No!” He scrambles to the other side of the room, putting as much distance between the two of you as he can. 

You raise your eyebrows at him, but your cheeks are flushed as well. “Okay then, whatever you say.” 

It’s painfully quiet after that as you continue looking for something for Steve to wear. You swear that Jonathan has left behind some of his things, and right before you lose hope, you spot a pair of gray sweats and an old The Clash t-shirt of his. 

“Here,” you toss the clothes to Steve without even checking if he’s looking. You hear a crash and know that he, in fact, had not been looking. 

“Gee, thanks.” He says sarcastically, but you giggle. 

“No problem,” you begin to gather your own pajamas before pointing towards your door. “There’s a bathroom to the left, down the hall. You can change there.” 

“Then our sleepover can commence?”

You wave him off, but you smile anyway at his question. You missed his boyish charms. “Sure, buddy. Go change.”

Steve salutes you and then leaves the room, softly closing the door behind him. You change while he’s gone and tie your hair up. After a few minutes, you assume Steve has had enough time to change and make your way over to the bathroom so you can brush your teeth. You’re so excited to go to bed. 

However, the door is closed when you approach, meaning Steve is still changing. You knock on the door, “Are you almost done in there?”

“I’m having… problems.” 

Your hand hovers over the door, mid knock. “Problems?”

There’s only silence for a moment, almost as if Steve is contemplating elaborating. Finally, after several seconds, he says “I’m definitely taller than Byers.” 

You roll your eyes and begin knocking again, just to annoy Steve, until he finally swings the door open. Before you can even stop it, a loud laugh escapes you. The sweats are at least five inches too short on him, while Jonathan’s shirt is a size too small. He looks absolutely ridiculous. 

“It’s not funny!” Steve whines, his face once again red. “I thought you gave me Jonathan’s clothes, Y/N!” 

More laughter escapes you, making your ribs begin to hurt. Every time you try to speak, you laugh even harder, and it’s impossible for you to get any words out. Steve watches, not amused in the slightest, and crosses his arms as if to appear more dignified. 

“I’m sorry,” you manage to gasp out, more laughs threatening to spill from you. “I guess they’re clothes from when he was fourteen.”

“I’m reconsidering our truce from earlier.” 

This gets you to stop laughing, and you gasp and smack Steve’s chest. “You wouldn’t dare!”

He sighs, hanging his head low. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“Exactly,” his admission makes you giddy. “Now, either make yourself cozy in the bean bag or watch as I brush my teeth. Your choice.”

Steve shrugs and steps to the side so that there’s room for you to enter the bathroom. It’s a tight fit, but he ends up sitting on the edge of the tub and just watches as you begin the process of brushing your teeth. “I didn’t actually think you’d stay, ya know.”

“I know, but I’m bored and you’re here.”

You spit into the sink. “Fair, I guess.”

“Plus,” he picks at his nails, trying to look disinterested while wearing Jonathan’s too small clothes. “We still need to have that talk.”

You pause, toothbrush hanging from your lips as you stare at Steve, wide eyed, in the mirror. Honestly, you were hoping he would’ve forgotten about that. It’s not that you don’t want to know whatever he has to tell you, but you’re tired and still reeling over the fact that he’s spending the entire night in your room. 

“Oh, right.” Turning the faucet off, you finish brushing your teeth and awkwardly wipe your face. Steve watches quietly, and once you’re done, you motion for him to follow you back towards your room. 

As soon as you’re back in your room, Steve immediately curls himself upon the bean bag and brings the blanket all the way up to his chin. Dustin, as always, is right: the bean bag truly is Steve-sized. “Cozy.”

You laugh at him as you crawl into your own bed. “Yeah, I’d hope so. Jonathan has slept in it for years now.”

“Well, uh. Speaking of Jonathan…” Steve sits up a bit so that he can properly look at you. “I wanted to talk. Ya know… About you and him. Nancy, too.”

He pauses, furrows his brows, and then adds. “Actually, I want to talk about what really happened this summer. Everything. I want to know everything.”

“Everything is a lot,” you dodge, turning away from the boy. 

Steve sighs. “Y/N… I missed you.”

Missed.

“I want to be friends again, be how we were before, but… I don’t know. There was a lot unsaid between us. Even from the start. I mean, I understand. I do.” His eyes never leave yours, despite how much you try not to look back at him. “You’re, well–If we’re going to be friends again, I want to start from the beginning.”

“The beginning?”

Now Steve is the one who looks away. “I don’t know, it’s stupid, I guess–”

“It’s not stupid, Steve.” You reassure him. He’s trying, he’s inviting you in after everything you did to him, and it’s all you could’ve asked for. 

But you’re fucking terrified. 

You and Steve became close before, sure, but it was something more surface level. An act between the two of you. While Steve was able to read you over time, learning and asking and paying attention to you, there was still so much you never let him in on. What you haven’t let anyone in on, besides Jonathan. 

If you start from the beginning with Steve, someone you know has come to view you as this selfless and kind person, you’re scared that it’ll change the way he sees you. 

But Steve is looking at you from the bean bag, looking ridiculously cozy with the blanket wrapped around him and his usually carefully curated hair has fallen in his eyes; his gaze is open and trusting. There isn’t a pressure behind it, he would understand if you backed down, but you promised him you’d try. 

To try is to be human.

And you really, really missed Steve. 

“I moved here when I was twelve. My family and I had moved all the way from Virginia after the divorce. I remember being really mean, back then. An angry kid with all this hurt within her that she perpetually displaced upon everyone else.” 

“Angry?” Steve asks, his voice soft. 

You shift uncomfortably in bed, but you remind yourself that you agreed to this. If you’re going to begin again with Steve, then he deserves to know the true person he’s befriending. “Angry. I didn’t take the divorce well. At all. I acted out a lot, closed myself off, and was just a fucking awful person.”

Shifting again, you take a deep breath. “My anger got to the point where Dustin, who was nine, had to practically plead with me to be nicer to him. He was a kid.”

“So were you,” Steve gently chimes in, but you roll your eyes at him. 

“Being a kid didn’t give me an excuse to abandon my loved ones like I did. Like my father did. It wasn’t until Dustin called me out on my bullshit that I realized the irony of the situation. There I was, blaming everyone else for my own problems and running away, because I was so hurt by my father doing the same to me.”

Steve clenches his jaw, and you know he wants to say more, but you watch as he exhales deeply and decides against it. “Okay, so you were mean and then you became kind again after something traumatic… So what?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I mean,” the boy sighs. “I was a dick for like, ten consecutive years. It took losing a fight to Jonathan, embarrassing myself in front of Nancy at least five times, losing my bullshit ‘friends’ Tommy and Carol, and some blonde guy with a fucking mullet before I was even able to become a decent person.” 

You frown. “What’s your point?” 

“My point is that you came back.” Steve shrugs. “The second someone you loved asked you to, you came back to being the selfless angel that you are. Which, by the way, is an impressive feat in itself.” 

He says this as if it’s obvious and that the months you spent hurting everyone around you can be redeemed. As if you haven’t spent every waking hour tirelessly devoting every piece of yourself to those around you to make up for them. To repent for your anger. 

Steve takes your silence as more defiance, and he runs a tired hand through his hair. He’s merely a few feet from you, at the foot of your bed on the bean bag, and yet it feels as if he’s inches yet yards away. “I know I can’t change your mind, but… I think that’s what matters the most in the end, ya know? You became kind.” 

“So did you,” you finally say, not quite ready to accept what he’s saying. 

Now it’s Steve who looks away. “Still working on the whole ���kind’ thing.”

“Isn’t that what matters in the end?” You tease, feeling yourself warm with pride when you get him to laugh. 

“Touche.” 

Silence falls over the two of you, letting the tension lazily slip away for now. Your body hums with energy; the only other person you’ve told about your father to is Jonathan. You both have long since bonded over shitty father figures. However, even when you had whispered these truths to Jonathan back when you were thirteen, you don’t remember feeling quite so raw and vulnerable as you do right now with Steve. 

“I meant it, you know,” you catch Steve’s eye. “Back when you first drove me home last year. You’re alright. Not too shabby, honestly.”

This time a full body laugh cascades through the boy, He clutches at his stomach as he doubles over, breathless with joy. “Thanks, Y/N.” 

Steve is still laughing and this is the happiest you think you’ve seen him in months. The realization makes all the warmth you’ve felt earlier, vanish. You remember the hurt on his face earlier this week on Halloween, the tears in his eyes when he confessed that Nancy didn’t love him. 

You know how plagued Steve is about never being good enough, and for the first time since you’ve truly gotten to know him: you understand him in that very moment. 

Your eye catches on Steve’s adam’s apple as he swallows. It’s a tragedy, really, how attractive he is. You suppose it’s what caused his downfall, in the end. A pretty boy, rich and popular yet easily able to be taken down; it must be a lonely life with all that vulnerability.

“Can I tell you a secret?” You whisper, voice cutting through the darkness of your room as Steve seems to remember where he is, why and how the conversation started in the first place. 

“Always,”

“I’m scared of the compulsive need I feel to take care of everyone. It’s like… I don’t know, this debt that I feel I owe for existing, for the fear I feel because of my father leaving. I overcompensate for this fear now, terrified I’ll become mean again.”

Steve stares at your ceiling. “The whole ‘debt’ thing, I understand. Believe me. Rather than being a perfect angel, however, I just try my fucking hardest not to disappoint everyone around me and make them leave.”

Nancy, as she always seems to do, lingers between you and Steve now; you both can feel her presence without him having to say her name. He told you what she did to him, you tried to reassure him that it hadn’t been his fault, but Steve isn’t an idiot. 

Nancy never loved him. He knows this, now. 

You don’t say anything, you don’t think he’d want you to. Giving him some time, you allow Steve a few minutes to collect his thoughts, sensing he has more to say. Then, softly, he whispers back to you, “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Always,” you echo. 

“I just want to be loved.” 

With just one confession, a string of six words in succession, Steve Harrington crushes you. 

The words come crashing upon your chest and you wish you could tell him how easily you see yourself falling for him. How, even if you can’t admit it just yet, you’re already falling for him. You think you have been for some time now. 

Somewhere, in between him driving you home last year and the way the summer sun kissed his face months later, you began to fall in love with him. 

While you’re thinking this, Steve is laying in the bean bag, absolutely terrified of the words that have come out of his mouth. He’s always had the fear, deep down, that he was unlovable, but to admit the fear out loud… He’s never felt so weak before.

You’re silent and Steve thinks he’s finally done it. His pathetic need to be liked and loved by everyone around him has finally scared you away. How couldn’t it scare you away? You so naturally are loved by everyone while Steve compulsively demands it because he’s still that scared ten year old boy with a father who never showed him love. 

Then, because you’re an angel, you give Steve the response he hadn’t even known he needed to hear. “It’s natural to want to be loved. We all do. It’s human.”

He exhales at your words, still staring at the ceiling as if to somehow lessen the impact of what you’re telling him. There’s something there, hanging in the air after your words have disappeared, that Steve can’t quite understand. 

It almost sounded like you were trying to reassure yourself, as well.

“What’s the deal with you and Jonathan?” Though Steve’s voice is steady, you can tell that he’s trying not to sound too interested. 

The question is a simple one, but it’s the hardest question you’ve ever had to answer. Everyone asks you, sooner or later, if you and Jonathan are together. You never blame them for asking, because ultimately the two of you are  closer than the average friends, regardless of gender. 

It doesn’t make the question any less painful to answer, though. It doesn’t make hearing Jonathan’s laugh cut any less deeper.

As for Steve, he’s asked this question before, albeit with teasing and disbelief whenever you’ve told him there’s nothing there. Despite the numerous times you’ve corrected him, he’s never quite believed you.

This time, it feels different. There’s a weight behind Steve’s question, and your silence is all the answer that he needs. “You love him.”

The words aren’t a question, and they harbor no malice. He says them as if they are a fact; you suppose that it is. You don’t say anything, but you do nod your head at him. “I do… I think I’ve always loved him, honestly.”

You’ve never, ever said those words out loud. Not to anyone.

And now, you’re confessing them to Steve, who doesn’t have to ask you why your voice now holds melancholy within it. He knows, he’s always somehow known. Jonathan doesn’t love you, a fact in which Steve has never been able to wrap his head around. He’s watched the two of you for years, how easily you love one another, and yet somehow the love never blossomed into something more. 

Everything stills between you and Steve, allowing both your confessions to surround the two of you. “I’m sorry.”

Steve’s apology only causes you to shrug. “He’s still mine, at least for now. Is that so bad?”

“I mean, I guess not, but… Doesn’t it get exhausting?”

“God,” you squeeze your eyes shut, finally able to voice all you’ve been feeling to someone who can understand. “It feels like this crushing weight upon me every time I see him smile, like it’s a burden, carrying all this love within me without being able to express it freely. I just… I never thought that love could be so exhausting. ”

As the words start to come out, you find that you’re unable to stop. “I grew up with Jonathan, I learned the way he breathes and the way his hands feel pressed against my skin, but so much has changed and…” Your breath hitches. “He’s not someone I reach out to first anymore. It almost feels like I can’t. I love him, I do, but I also miss how it used to be before I realized everything.”

The pressure of tears builds behind your eyes and forces you to stop talking. If you say anything else, you’re afraid you’ll start crying. While Steve has been so lovely tonight, it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to console you so pathetically. 

Steve seems to hear the tears lacing your voice and speaks for you, having finally pieced together everything he’s been unable to articulate since November of last year. “With Nance, it feels like I’m always somehow two steps behind her and her feelings. Constantly playing catch up while the rules keep changing on me… I get the whole ‘love is exhausting’ thing.”

Though you know Steve means well, his words fucking terrify you. If he feels the same way towards Nancy, a girl who never ended up loving him despite how much he poured his heart out for her, what does that mean for you and Jonathan?

For the first time, you question if the exhaustion you feel surrounding your love for the boy is really something else. Something different, disguised as exhaustion. 

You wonder, deep down, if you’ve started to fall out of love with Jonathan.

Who are you if you have?

The boy has become so intertwined within your life, the threads and strings and lines have tied you to him indefinitely. He’s the reason behind your everything. If you no longer love Jonathan, then who are you, really?

The realization washes over you like cold rain in the middle of winter. It spills over you and pricks at your skin and you suddenly want the conversation to end. While you’re so relieved to be talking to Steve again, the conversation has left you with more realizations than resolutions. 

“It’s late,” you fake a yawn, desperate to cut the conversation short. “We should go to bed. Knowing Dustin, he’ll have us up at the crack of dawn to start looking for Dart.”

Steve sees right through you, he knows he’s somehow crossed a line and that you’re once again retreating. You’re closing yourself off from him again, but he’ll take whatever he can get from you. You’ve told him more than he ever thought you would, so for now he’ll play along. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He says, watching as you reach for your lamp and turn the light off. Then, as soon as you’ve rolled over and closed your eyes, you faintly hear his final words. “Don’t we make a pathetic pair?” 

You remember, before drifting off to sleep, feeling relief wash over you that Steve once again considers the two of you a pair.

– 

You wake up the next morning to the faint sounds of Dustin getting ready. His shower can be heard from your room, and through the years it's become your morning alarm. Yawning, you roll over and rub your eyes and take a few minutes to let your brain wake up. 

Bits of yesterday’s events come back to you. 

Dustin confessing about Dart. 

Locking the Demodog in your cellar. 

Radioing everyone in the party for help and getting no response. 

Going to the Wheelers for Mike and coming back with Steve. 

Dart going missing. 

And, most importantly, your bizarre conversation with Steve last night. 

The boy in question lets out a loud snore from the bean bag, blankets haphazardly twisted around his legs, and you stifle a laugh. Even in his sleep, Steve Harrington somehow catches all the attention in the room.  

You throw your blanket off and get out of bed, tiptoeing so as to not wake up the sleeping beauty, and head outside to your kitchen. If yesterday was any indication of how long today will be, then you need all the coffee in the world to get through it. 

The coffee has just finished brewing when you hear Steve stumble into the kitchen. His eyes are bleary and his hair is the worst it’s ever looked. “I guess even Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington can’t escape bed head, huh?”

Steve acknowledges your quip only by grunting, still stumbling around through your home. So he isn’t a morning person, you think with a smile while bringing your coffee mug to your lips and taking a careful sip. 

Eventually Steve makes it to your kitchen table and plops down, letting out a loud yawn and smacking his lips. He looks pathetically endearing, really, especially given his outfit that looks even worse after sleeping in it. The shirt has ridden further up, exposing a bit of his stomach (which you divert your gaze from, feeling yourself blush), and one of his too-short pant legs has ridden up to his knee. 

“You really are a natural beauty in the morning, Steve.” 

“Ha,” he says boredly, looking around the kitchen. “Do you guys have any food? I’m starving.” 

You toss him an apple from the fruit basket on the counter, and Steve only just manages to catch it in time to avoid it hitting his face.

“Christ!” He exclaims, glaring at you when you chuckle at his reaction. Maybe it was a little mean, but you see the small smile he tries to hide. 

“Is this all I get? An apple thrown at my face?”

You walk over to the table and set your mug down. “Were you expecting a home cooked meal?” 

“You’ll have to earn a Y/N Henderson breakfast,” Dustin says as he enters the kitchen and joins the two of you. His hair is still wet from his shower and he drips onto the counter, which makes you cringe. He’s such a boy, sometimes. 

He makes his way over to the fridge and rustles around, looking for something to eat. Truthfully, the reason you threw the apple at Steve is because there’s no food in your house at the moment. Your mom normally goes to the grocery store on Saturdays, and in her frantic rush to find Mews she hadn't left any money for you to go to the store. 

“There’s no food,” you inform your brother. 

He sighs dejectedly, grabbing a banana and then plopping himself next to Steve at the table. “All right, are you two awake enough to discuss the plan?” 

You nod immediately at Dustin’s question while Steve slumps further into his seat, groaning. You run a hand through his hair to try and settle down his theatrics. Dustin sees this and raises an eyebrow at you, but you shake your head and motion for him to keep quiet. 

“So,” he takes a bite from his banana and begins speaking with his mouth full, which you make a face at. “I was thinking we lure Dart with bait to a secure area that we can catch him in.” 

“Wait,” Steve sits up a bit in his seat, careful to not knock your hand off his head. “That’s all you got? That’s the entire plan?”

“Yes. Is there a problem?” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” he begins eating as well, his mouth also full and disgusting to look at, “Do you know how we’ll lure him? Or where? Better yet, how will we even catch him?” 

Dustin narrows his eyes. “Okay, so it’s a working idea. You got anything better?”

Steve opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He pauses for a second before seemingly drawing a blank and closing his mouth; he sinks back into his seat in defeat.

“That’s what I thought.” Dustin says smugly.

You take another sip of coffee, enjoying the mug’s warmth around your fingers. “Well, we at least know what Dart likes to eat.”

“We do?” Steve questions, looking up at you.

“Oh, just wait until you hear this,” you motion over to Dustin. “Go on, tell Steve what you’ve been feeding Dart.”

Now it’s your brother’s turn to sink into his seat, embarrassed. He mumbles something that Steve can’t quite hear.

“What?”

He mumbles again, only a tiny bit louder this time.

“Little Henderson, I can’t understand you.” Steve says, smirking when he feels you laugh against him. 

“I said he eats Musketeers Bars!” Dustin shouts, now incredibly defensive. 

In sync, you and Steve share a look. While you have an exasperated fondness on your face, Steve looks like he’s questioning every choice he’s made in his life. It’s cute that he thinks this is the weirdest things will get.

“Okay…” Steve looks over at your brother. “Unless you plan on buying out an entire candy store, we need something else for bait.”

In the corner of your eye you see Mews’ cat bed laying against the window, and an idea pops into your head. “Dustin, did Dart only eat the candy bars before he killed our cat?”

“Yeah, why?” 

As you walk over to the kitchen sink to place your mug in it, you begin explaining. “Then clearly he’s outgrown his sugar needs and would probably eat just about anything with flesh on it.”

Steve wrinkles his face with displeasure, not enjoying the thought of going after this monster that craves meat. He’s already done that, and call him crazy, but he really doesn’t want to experience anything like that ever again. 

Dustin’s eyes light up, following along with what you’re saying. “Raw meat! You’re a genius, Y/N!” 

“And then we can follow the train tracks to that old junkyard, the one that El brought you guys to last year. It’s a straight shot, Dart won’t get lost, and then we catch him.”

Dustin squeals. “That’s perfect!”

He stands up to hug you, which you gladly accept. “Yeah, yeah. We Hendersons are known for our genius,” you gently push your brother away and start exiting the kitchen. “I’m going to go shower and get ready. Steve, you’ll take Dustin to the butcher and see if you can haggle some raw meat out of him.” 

“Uh… can I change first?” He asks, running a hand through his hair with displeasure. 

Only now does Dustin notice Steve’s appearance and he lets out a loud cackle. “Oh, I think you look great!”

You shoot your brother a warning look, not wanting to upset Steve too much. He’s the only one with a car, and the party still hasn’t responded to Dustin’s calls, so he’s all you have right now. Plus, after last night’s conversation, you’re sure he’s feeling just as wound up and tense as you are. 

“We can swing by your place on our way to the train tracks. Your house is right next to it, anyways, and Dustin and I can scout the parameters while you shower and get yourself all pretty. For now, just go to the butcher's shop, please.” 

“But–” 

“Please, Steve?” You pout, daring him to argue with you again. Steve is only able to stand his ground for about five seconds before he groans and nods his head.

“Fine–” You quickly hug him before running towards the bathroom to get ready. 

Once you’re gone, Steve searches for his keys while Dustin stands in the kitchen, shocked. “I so need to know when you two became such good pals.”

“Go wait by the car, Little Henderson.” Steve waves him off, though he’s secretly pleased with how the morning is turning out so far.

–

“C’mon, man. It’s just chunks of raw meat, it doesn’t even matter what, uh, body parts they are, I guess.” Steve argues with the butcher, having no idea why you’ve sent him on this journey with Dustin. Neither of them have any idea about butchers and meat, so they’ve been arguing back and forth for a solid ten minutes with the guy. 

“And I already told you, it’ll be $15. Take it or leave it, pretty boy.” Pat, the butcher, says. 

Steve scowles at the name, “That’s insane for five pounds, you realize that? It’s just a bunch of meat chunks from god knows where, it’s not like we want prime rib you dirty sack of–” 

Dustin cuts him off, snatching the boy’s wallet from his back pocket and pulling out a twenty. “Ignore him, please! Here, thank you so much for your lovely service, good sir.”

Pat narrows his eyes at the boy, and for a split second Dustin is afraid that he’s trying to figure out the best way to skin them alive, before he simply grunts and takes the money. 

Relief washes over Dustin and he scrambles to grab the bags of meat, tugging at Steve’s sleeve in urgence until he gives in and begins to help as well. Within a few seconds, they’ve gathered all they need and head towards the car. 

“Keep the change!” Dustin calls out behind him. 

As soon as they’re in the car, he yells at Steve to step on it. It’s already been twenty minutes since they left the house, and he knows from experience to never keep you waiting. 

“Okay, okay, god.” Steve complies, pushing down on the gas and speeding away from the butcher’s shop. 

The smell of raw meat immediately infiltrates the car, so Steve rolls down the windows and sighs. This is definitely not the weekend he had in mind. He thought he’d apologize to Nancy, kiss and hopefully make up, and maybe even swing by your place to tell you the good news. 

Instead, he has buckets of raw meat in his car and his head is swimming from his conversation with you from last night. While he’s happy it happened, there’s still so much Steve feels like you aren’t telling him. To top it all off, he hadn’t been able to sleep in his own bed, but rather a bean bag that Jonathan apparently has slept in a million times before. 

As Steve is moping, he realizes that there actually wasn’t even a real need to spend the night. 

“Hey, Little Henderson,” Steve gently hits Dustin’s shoulder to get his attention. “Why did I have to spend the night at your place?” 

“Oh, you didn’t.” Dustin says as if it’s no big deal.

Steve turns his head towards him, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d actually spend the night if we’re being honest. I just thought it’d be funny to mess with you.” 

“I tried arguing with you, but you shushed me!” Steve exclaims, putting both hands back on the steering wheel aggressively. 

The younger boy shrugs, “What are you, seventeen? Eighteen? Why would you listen to a thirteen year old?” 

“Well, I–” As much as he wants to, Steve really can’t defend himself on this one. Shit. It’s not like he can tell Dustin that he mostly stayed because his sister is pretty and makes him feel safe.

Dustin smiles, happy to have won the conversation at hand, and decides to really rub it in as they pull up to the house. “I also thought it’d be hilarious to pair you up with my sister. Hope you two made smart choices last night.”

And with those words, Dustin springs out the car, leaving a speechless Steve behind. He turns the car off and sits there for a moment, completely at a loss for words. He’s only spent a total of sixteen hours with the kid, and already he knows he’s in for a world more of trouble. 

If you’re Hawkins’ sweetheart, then Dustin is the town’s horribly terrifying weasel. 

Meanwhile, you’ve just finished lacing up your shoes when Dustin walks in.

“Where are the rubber gloves that mom likes?” He asks in lieu of greeting you. 

“In the closet, second shelf, next to her cat figurines. Where’s Steve?”

Dustin rustles around the closet and pulls out three sets of gloves, “In the car, moping.” 

There’s a crash and then he tosses two buckets onto the carpet. You crouch down and grab the buckets, placing them on the table. “Why is he moping?”

“Why is who moping?” The man in question walks in, throwing himself on the couch and narrowly dodging the third bucket that Dustin throws out. “Why do you guys keep throwing shit at me, jesus!” 

“Language! There’s kids around,” You snap your fingers at Steve, who quickly cowers in shame. “And if it makes any difference, the bucket wasn’t intentional. The rest were, though.” 

Just as Dustin is finishing up in the closet, you spot a can of gasoline and an idea sparks in your head. If you learned anything at Jonathan’s house last year, it’s that these Demogorgon things really hate fire. “Hey, grab the gasoline as well.”

He does as he’s told, no questions asked, and then hands it to you. You add it to the pile on the table, along with two backpacks from your brother and your beloved switchblade. 

Steve gets up from the couch to investigate your stash, nodding approvingly. “Not bad, guys. What are we going to put in the backpacks, though?” 

Dustin goes into the kitchen and begins grabbing the few items within it. The remaining fruits in the basket, a few pieces of bread, a bag of chips, and some water bottles. “One bag will have our food, the other will have our weapons.” 

And with that, you guys are all set to head out. While Dustin is distracted with grabbing his backpack, you run towards Steve’s car and throw yourself into the passenger seat. Every man for himself. 

“What– Y/N!” He calls after you, but he’s too late. You’ve already buckled yourself up by the time he and Steve get into the car themselves. 

“She beat ya, buddy.” Steve teases, flashing you a proud smile. 

Dustin grumbles in the backseat, unamused, and for a moment you think he’ll leave it at that. However, because he’s Dustin, you see from the rearview mirror as his eyes spark with revenge. “So, Steve.”

The tone in his voice terrifies you. 

You place your head in your hands and sigh, mentally preparing for whatever your brother is about to say. 

“Yes, Dustin?”

“How long have you been friendly with my sister?”

“Dustin!” You whip your head around, lunging towards the back seat to swat at the boy, but he quickly scoots over to Steve’s side and avoids your hands. 

Steve, however, surprises you by simply shrugging and taking the question in stride. There’s no embarrassment on his face, no ounce of hesitation in his voice. “About a year now.”

“A year?” Dustin exclaims, having completely not expected such a response. “Y/N, how could you keep this from me?”

“She didn’t hide anything from you, buddy.” Steve defends you, eyes focused on the road. “I convinced her to be my friend after I saved her life–”

“You saved her life?”

“And then bought you boys snacks at the hospital afterwards. Then, because I really wanted to be her friend, I basically stalked her at work every day and annoyed my way into her life. We’ve been pretty close ever since.”

Dustin’s jaw is practically on the ground after Steve’s quick explanation, left speechless for the first time in his life. As for you, you’re admiring the way the early morning sun causes Steve to glow. You’ll never be over how often his beauty distracts you; you wonder how Nancy, or really anyone, could deny him love.

If you didn’t know Steve, if you passed by him on the street one day as complete strangers, you’re sure that a part of you would fall in love with him. 

Even with pieces of his hair standing all over the place, his shirt still being too small, he was a delicate kind of handsome that made you feel a certain warmth.

“Did I forget anything, Y/N?” Steve’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, and you quickly divert your eyes away from the way his arms look while holding the steering wheel. 

“No, uh.” You clear your throat, still recovering. Steve seems to be in good spirits for once, it’s a breath of fresh air seeing him so content, and yet it also serves as a stark reminder that you made the right choice when you first distanced yourself from him. He’s just too easy to love. “I think you pretty much covered everything. Unless Dustin has any questions?”

“Give me three to five business days to process this, please.” Your brother mumbles from the backseat, which you and Steve laugh at. 

The rest of the ride is relatively peaceful after that, and a few minutes later you arrive at Steve’s house. It’s different in the daylight, only ever having seen it late one night driving the boy home from the Halloween party. 

It’s a beautiful home, the smell of chlorine fills your nose. The pool, you remember Nancy mentioning his pool when she explained what happened to Barb. You shiver, now aware that you’re in the same place that your friend took her last breaths at, just a year ago. 

“The tracks are just over on the other side of the street, and I shouldn’t be too long, so you Hendersons can start figuring out the plan in the meantime.” Steve instructs you and Dustin, getting out of the car and entering his house. 

Dustin begins getting out as well, so you unbuckle your seatbelt and follow. Thankfully you decided to wear jeans today with a simple tank top and cardigan with your knit socks; though it was late October, it’s unusually sunny outside and the walk from Steve’s to the junkyard was easily four to five miles. 

The two of you walk over to the tracks and you survey the area. You’re not sure what exactly you’re looking for, but you figure it’s best to look focused in case Dustin yells at you. 

“We’ll need to go that way,” Dustin points in front of you, and you nod as you follow along. “We can drop the meat chunks every few sleepers so we don’t waste any of it.” 

“Sleepers?”

“These.” Dustin’s shoe scrapes against the bottom wooden planks. 

“You would know what they’re called.”

“Ha ha, any more quips or can I continue?”

You put your hands up in surrender and Dustin begins to speak again.

“Then once we get to the junkyard, we can dump whatever meat is left in a pile and put the gasoline on it. Once Dart is distracted and eating, we’ll light it on fire.” His words catch a bit at the end, and you suddenly feel bad for him. He clearly still cares about Dart, but you know your brother understands the risks of letting the Demodog live. 

Without saying anything, you reach over and pull Dustin in for a hug. He fights it at first, but after a couple seconds he gives in and hugs you back. You aren’t the most affectionate pair of siblings, but you love your younger brother fiercely. Not for the first time, you wish you could’ve done more to prevent him from discovering the Upside Down. 

You know it’s irrational to blame yourself and feel guilty, but maybe if you’d been more involved last year, then maybe he wouldn’t have so many nightmares. 

“I’m sorry about Dart,” you say softly against his hat. 

Dustin breaks away, shrugging his shoulders. “Gotta protect the party, right?”

“Right.” You flick his hat. “C’mon, let’s go back to the car and start putting the meat in the buckets.” 

True to his word, Steve is ready to go after about twenty minutes. He walks out of his house, freshly clean and put together, right as you and Dustin finish preparing the bait. He approaches from behind you, and you can smell his cologne. Memories from when he’d have his arms around you and you’d smell the familiar scent now wash over you. 

Clearing your throat, you turn to hand him gloves and a bucket, but almost drop it when you see him. 

He looks good. Like, frustratingly good. His hair is back in its usual style, but he’s wearing a dark blue polo and a gray jacket that fits him criminally well. You almost feel underdressed standing next to him with your ratty old cardigan, which you know is ridiculous to be concerned about. Plus, you’ve always known that Steve was attractive, so it’s stupid to be affected by it suddenly now. 

You guys had one emotional conversation. 

“Y/N?” 

Steve’s staring at you quizzically, and you quickly snap out of your thoughts and hand him the bucket full of bait and instruct him to put the gloves on. He listens, dutifully putting them on and placing the bucket on the ground and starts searching for one of the backpacks in the trunk. He’s seemingly in a much better mood now, which you’re thankful for. 

“Dustin! This is Lucas. Do you copy? Dustin?” 

Lucas’ voice rings out from Dustin’s walkie, and you perk your head up, relieved that he’s okay. The radio silence from the party was something that unnerved you immensely. With Dart on the loose, Will’s increasing episodes, who knows what else is happening in Hawkins at the moment? 

“Well, well, well, look who it is.” Dustin responds, placing his hands on his hips like a disappointed mother. You chuckle at him and continue helping Steve unload the trunk. 

You hear Lucas sigh into the walkie. “Sorry, man. My stupid sister turned it off.” 

“Tell Erica I say hi!” You call out, knowing Lucas will hear you. He always resented the fact that his sister is so nice to you. You’re the only living person who didn’t receive Erica’s insane insults, which is something you’re very proud of.

“Y/N?”

“Hi, Lucas!” 

Dustin shoos you away and continues to speak. “Well, when you were having sister problems, which really aren’t that hard to handle–” 

“Says you,” you butt in. 

“Dart grew again, he escaped, and I’m pretty sure he’s a baby Demogorgon.” Your brother finishes. By this point, you and Steve have pretty much unpacked everything in the car. 

“Wait, what?” You’d kill to see the look on Lucas’ face right now. 

“I’ll explain later, just meet me, Y/N, and Steve at the old junkyard.” As Dustin wraps up the conversation, Steve shoves his bat into the bag and you watch him with disappointment. He’s trying really hard to make it fit, and you almost pity the boy. Bless him. 

There’s a pause before Lucas asks, “Steve?”

Dustin doesn’t elaborate, instead instructing his friend to bring his binoculars and wrist rocket. You suppose it’s a good idea to add more weapons to your arsenal. Better safe than sorry.

“Steve Harrington?” Lucas asks again, this time even more confused. 

“He’s a friend,” you say, shoving your own weapons into the bag and slinging it over your shoulder. 

Steve closes the trunk and says, “Damn straight I am. Alright, let’s go.”

You follow after him, saying goodbye to Lucas as Dustin tells him to be at the junkyard stat. 

Dustin stashes his walkie in his own bag and then the three of you are off. Your brother and Steve walk a bit ahead of you as you all throw the meat chunks onto the ground, doing as Dustin instructed. It’s slow work, but you’re happy to have some time to yourself while the boys are distracted with each other. Their friendship wasn’t something you’d expect, but you’re incredibly happy about it.

You love the party, you’d do anything for them given all that you’ve been through together. However, as they grow older, you can’t help but notice how much they’re changing. Mike hasn’t been himself since El disappeared, Dustin is now hyper focused on science, Lucas is becoming his own person, and poor Will is just trying to recover from the trauma of last year. 

It’s been hard watching them grow apart, in a way. Nothing will ever be the same after the Upside Down, you know that, but watching the party slowly drift makes you sad for your brother. You’re glad he’s seemingly found someone like Steve to bounce jokes off of and feel appreciated by. You know that someday the kids will all come together again, it’d be impossible not to with how strong of a connection they all have, so you try not to worry too much.

You shove the thoughts down, you need to keep focused on Dart and contacting the rest of the party. So, you dutifully place the bait down and follow behind the boys and feel the time pass by. After about an hour of nonsensical conversation between Steve and Dustin, you hear the older boy finally ask the question of why your brother even hid Dart in the first place. 

“It’s complicated, okay?” Dustin defects, clearly uncomfortable with the change in conversation.

You keep your distance from them, but you keep an ear out just in case you need to intervene. 

“You claim you wanted to get famous off of it or whatever,” Steve drops meat onto the tracks and kicks his foot. “Call me crazy, but you don’t hide something that supposedly makes you famous.” 

He has a point, and Dustin scrunches his face up. He casts a glance your way and you do your best to appear distracted by the job at hand. You know Dustin’s guilty face well, so whatever he’s about to tell Steve will be good. When Dustin shuffles closer to Steve and lowers his voice, you get closer as well so you can listen.

You’re his older sister. It’s your damn job to be nosy.

“It was for this girl.” 

Simultaneously you and Steve react. He hums in approval, almost proud, while you scoff. “I knew it.”

Dustin turns around, horrified. “You knew?”

“Duh, you’re awful at hiding things from me. After Max was just conveniently outside the AV room when Dart originally escaped, I pieced it together immediately. Also, side note: you’re too young to be impressing girls. I told you to just be yourself, dummy.”

Steve lets out a snort. “Pretty ironic coming from you, Y/N.”

Suddenly you feel uncomfortable with his attention on you.

“I’m sorry?” Your voice is steady, but you can feel your hands shaking as you continue throwing the bait. 

“Ya know, your massive crush on Jonathan ever since you were twelve.” He laughs, as if it’s the funniest joke in the world. 

Dustin clears his throat aggressively, pointing to your hands. Steve sees the way that they shake, the tension you now carry in your shoulders, and he’s become familiar enough with you to know your anger cues. The teasing smile that had been on his face drops. He runs towards you so he’s now by your side, and Dustin sighs in disappointment. 

“I didn’t, like, mean anything by that, you know. I–uh, I was kidding, Y/N.” Steve tries to catch your gaze, but you pointedly stare straight ahead and clench your jaw. He’s stumbling over both his words and the tracks beneath his feet, trying desperately to appease you. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“You’re an asshole, Steve Harrington.” 

“Y/N, please, I said I was sorry–”

You finally face him, grabbing his elbow to ensure he doesn’t move. “I told you that stuff about Jonathan in confidence. You don’t get to throw it back in my face, joking or not.” 

It doesn’t help that you’re already confused enough as it is about the boy and your feelings towards him. To have Steve tease you about it, especially because he knows how painful jabs about Nancy are… It really fucking hurts. 

Steve looks like a kicked puppy as you storm ahead of him and Dustin, putting enough distance between you guys so that you can’t hear their conversion that follows. 

“Shit…”

“You’re awful with women.” Dustin says, now continuing to walk. He doesn’t bother to follow after you, knowing that you need your space to cool down. “I wouldn’t follow her, by the way. Let her cool off.”

Steve sighs, now walking as well, “Yeah, I know.” 

They walk in silence for a little while, Steve hanging his head in shame and Dustin leading the way, frustrated by being stuck with two overly emotional teens. 

After a while the silence eats at Steve, so he decides to continue the conversation from earlier. “So, this girl… is she someone you’ve known a while?” 

Dustin shakes his head, “No, she’s new at our school. She’s super cool, though.”

“I remember back when I based my attraction to girls on their coolness.” Steve mumbles. 

“And look where basing it off their hotness has gotten you.” 

“Ouch,” Steve rubs at his chest, wounded.

Dustin laughs and flings some bait at him. “I thought that if I showed her Dart, she’d think I was cool, too, and like me.”

Steve sidesteps the thrown bait and tries to comprehend what the younger boy is saying. “So, you kept something that you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl who… you just met?”

“Alright, that’s grossly oversimplifying things. And anyways, who are you to give me girl advice? My sister is literally three hundred feet ahead of us because you pissed her off with one singular sentence.” Then, almost as if as an afterthought, Dustin adds, “congrats, by the way. I’ve never seen someone piss her off so quickly.” 

“Look, this isn’t about me, okay? Sure, I messed up with Y/N, but it isn’t like I was hitting on her to begin with,” Dustin makes a disgusted face as Steve quickly continues, panicked. “So she doesn’t count. I just feel like you’re trying way too hard, man.” 

“Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, alright?” Dustin grumbles. 

Steve shakes his head, slightly amused by the boy’s antics. He’s so much like you, and yet so different, and Steve is realizing it’ll take a lot to keep up with the kid. “It’s not about the hair, dude. Chicks dig more than just a good hairstyle.” 

“You’re literally known as Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”

“Hey, ‘King Steve’ is also there.” 

Dustin flings even more bait at Steve, now annoyed with him. “Whatever man, it’s not like you’d be any help anyways.” 

“Oh really? Well, Little Henderson, I’m about to blow your mind: the key to girls is just acting like you don’t care.”

“Even if you do?”

“Yeah, exactly.” Steve now brightens up, happy to finally be getting through to the boy. For Steve, he’s long since learned that the best way to avoid getting hurt is to pretend that he doesn’t care. “It drives them nuts.”

“Then what?” 

“You just wait,” Steve looks ahead, watching you and feeling like a complete dick. He really hadn’t meant to hurt you, hell the two of you were finally starting to get somewhere and yet… Steve fucked it up. As always. 

He can see that your shoulders are still tensed up, you’re walking faster than you need to be. He feels a heavy weight in his stomach, one that he’s never felt before; he doesn’t like it. “You wait… until you feel it.”

Dustin furrows his brows. “Feel what?”

Steve tears his gaze away from you and turns back to Dustin, beginning to explain the electricity between someone you’re interested in. Being the geek that he is, Dustin turns it into a scientific discussion and Steve does his best to steer the conversation back. 

“No, like sexual electricity.” He explains.

As soon as the words leave Steve’s lips, you whip around and shout, “Are you seriously talking to my little brother about sexual electricity?”

Both Dustin and Steve freeze in place, dumbfounded. You let out a loud groan and continue stomping away, now even more aggressively throwing the chunks at the train tracks. 

“How did she even hear me?” Steve whispers, terrified. 

“I don’t know,” Your brother whispers back, also equally frightened. “Sometimes I think she has powers like El.”

Once you’re a safe enough distance away from them, Dustin hesitantly brings the girl conversation back up. “Hypothetically, what do girls like?”

Steve takes a second to answer, carefully rolling the question around in his mind. “It depends on the girl. Some girls want you to be aggressive, ya know? Go in for the kiss, make them feel protected. Strong, hot and heavy. Like a lion.” 

Dustin hums to indicate he’s following along, but ‘like a lion’ has him a little worried about the reliability of the conversation. He knows that Steve is a lady’s man, but he’s also never seen him with any girl besides Nancy, and the one time he saw him with you, he had immediately pissed you off. 

So for all Dustin knows, it could be lies. 

Steve continues his confusing explanation. “But others? You gotta be slow, you gotta be stealthy… like a ninja!”

“Okay, what type is Nancy?” Dustin asks, hoping to get the teen to stop making stupid analogies. Lions, ninjas… maybe it was all lies. 

The question catches Steve off guard and he stumbles a bit, feeling the familiar sense of protectiveness, insecurity, over the girl as well as a new sense of loss. What type is Nancy? If he had been asked this a week ago, Steve would’ve told Dustin that she’s a nice girl, a girl he could happily bring home to his parents and proudly wrap around his arms. Now? He’s not so sure. 

Not when he can still see the anger and disgust in Nancy’s eyes that night at the party. 

“Nancy’s different,” he recalls his conversation with you from last night, how he’d confessed to always feeling two steps behind the girl and how exhausting it all is. “She’s just different. Let’s move on to the next question.” 

Dustin notices Steve’s change in demeanor but doesn’t say anything. He supposes that you and him have a lot in common, then. “Okay, what type would you say Y/N is?”

Once again Steve isn’t expecting the question Dustin asks. “What–” he trips over a twig and just barely manages to catch himself. “Why would you ask me that? She’s your sister, and I don’t even like her–”

“Relax, Romeo. She’s just similar to Nancy and the girl I like, and I figured you’d know Y/N well enough by now considering you guys slept together–”

“I slept on her bean bag–”

“And have been friends for like, a year. Plus, she’s in love with Jonathan, you’re in love with Nancy, and coincidentally they’re in love with each other. Figures that there’s some type intermingling between the four of you.”

How the hell does everyone know about Nancy and Jonathan? Steve thinks bitterly. 

He’s silent for multiple seconds, absolutely at a loss for what to say. He doesn’t know where to begin or what to even deny. Technically the boy is right, as much as it hurts Steve to admit. He’s all but lost Nancy to Jonathan, and you’ve lost Jonathan to Nancy. 

In an extremely messed up way, you and Nancy do have the same type. On top of that, both you and Nancy are close to Jonathan, so it’s safe to assume there’s similarities to the both of you that Steve doesn’t even want to touch on right now.

Even more importantly, Steve has yet to really decipher why your presence alone can make or break his entire day. Why, after months of not talking, it now feels like he’s finally come home again with you back in his life. 

He looks at you again, still angrily throwing your bait, and he supposes that you’re a lot like Nancy in certain aspects, and yet completely different from her. “Y/N is also different, I guess. She’s incredibly intelligent both emotionally and academically. Isn’t she like the top of her class?”

Dustin nods, proud of the Henderson intelligence, and Steve continues. 

“Right. I’d say she’s like Nancy, except she’s softer?” Steve cringes at his own words, suddenly uncomfortable with comparing the two of you. In his mind, you’re both your own separate entities that infatuate him in different ways. 

You both burn Steve; Nancy is like a shot of whiskey, the thrill that follows the burn. But you? You’re a fireplace after hours of being out in the cold, the burn of it warming his bones.

“Y/N is just… she’s special, but everyone knows that. Your sister is the most caring person I’ve ever met, and I know I’m a lucky son of a bitch to be someone she trusts.” 

Dustin snorts. “Yeah you are.”

Up ahead, you finally slow down and face the boys, now waiting for them to catch up and call out, “C’mon, ladies! The sun sets soon, I don’t want Lucas waiting in the cold all alone.” 

“Looks like I’ve been forgiven.” Steve says, relief evident in his voice, something that your brother doesn’t miss.

Dustin lets out another loud snort, patting him on the chest, “Oh, my sister may be forgiving, but she never forgets.” With that, he walks away to catch up with you. 

“Well, isn’t that ominous.” 

You greet the boys with a tired smile, knowing there’s no use holding resentment towards Steve. He couldn’t have known about your mixed feelings towards Jonathan, you know he had only been trying to get along with Dustin. 

Things are still weird between you two, despite the conversation from last night, but it’s hard to stay mad at Steve and honestly, you don’t really want to be mad at him. It’s been so lovely having him around again, and your own confusing feelings can wait. 

Steve leans in close to you, gently grabbing at your hand so that you don’t walk away. “Hey, we okay?”

His eyes are full of concern and his voice is sickly sweet like honey. With the honey, the remaining bits of anger vanishes. “Of course we’re okay.”

Steve exhales deeply and you giggle at him before remembering that Dustin is quite literally a few feet away from you two. Coughing, you hold up your bucket to point out how it’s almost empty. “I guess in my rage, I flung more than I intended. How are your buckets holding up?” 

The two boys hold their buckets up, giving you a mock solute to indicate that all is good. You laugh, impressed by how synched they’ve become in such a short time. 

“Alright, then. Let’s get going.” As you all begin to walk in line again, you ask, “What were you guys even talking about, anyways?” 

The boys glance at each other in a conspiring way, which causes you to roll your eyes. They’re acting like you asked for their deepest and darkest secrets. They seem to have a silent conversation for a couple seconds before Steve finally speaks up. 

“I was just giving Little Henderson some girl advice. Nothing serious.” 

You raise your eyebrows, your heart swelling a bit at the idea of Steve giving your brother advice. It’s sweet, really. “Girl advice, huh?”

“Yeah, why do you sound so skeptical?” 

“Because you’re terrible with girls.” 

Dustin now butts in, “He told me to be aggressive.” 

“I did not!”

“He also said that you’re softer than Nancy.”

You make a face. “Thank you? I think?”

Steve tugs at his hair in frustration. “You two are the worst people I’ve ever met. You know that, right?” 

In unison, you and Dustin reply, “We get that a lot.” 

Steve stares at the two of you with slight horror in his eyes. “Yeah, alright. I’m out.” 

You grab at his sleeve, gently stopping him from storming away. You give him an apologetic look and pull him close so that your chest bumps against his. “You’ve gotta get used to the Henderson humor, Steve.”

He looks surprised by your tugging at his sleeve before he lets a smile cross his face. He doesn’t do anything else, but he also doesn’t back away, either, and you find yourself blushing a bit under his gaze. 

You clear your throat and let go of his sleeve, stepping back a bit. “Anyways, why don’t you tell me what wise advice you have for my brother.” 

The smile that was just on Steve’s face vanishes as he looks away from you. “I was just telling the kid to not fall in love with his little crush. He’s too young for heartbreak and all that other shit.” 

“I’m not in love with her!” Dustin exclaims in disgust, but you’re too distracted by Steve’s words to assure your brother that you believe him. 

“Well, I believe that love is something beautiful.” You say, your words only meeting Steve’s turned back. He doesn’t acknowledge you, but you know his indifference holds no malice. He’s still hurting, still in love with Nancy Wheeler. “Dustin, you may be too young to be in love, but don’t listen to Steve. To love and be loved is the luckiest thing we can ever do, regardless of how it ends.” 

Dustin blanches at your words, grossed out now. “Okay, okay, stop! Love is gross. I get it.” 

You softly mumble sorry to him, now suddenly remembering that he’s only thirteen. When you were his age, the idea of love also grossed you out. Now, love is a concept that you’ve found a comforting warmth in, even if it's burned you a few times and has left you more exhausted than exhilarated. One day he’ll understand (in the far off future, hopefully). 

For now, you flick your brother’s hat and follow after Steve, finishing the rest of the bait journey in silence. 

– 

By the time the three of you get to the junkyard, it’s already about midday. 

It’s different from how you imagined it, filled with old cars and a giant school bus. It’s more open, too, not as “junkyard” as you assumed. 

You, Steve, and Dustin stand at the top of the hill, surveying the area. Your feet ache from the walk and the sun is hurting your eyes. Seeing you squinting, Steve wordlessly hands you his signature Raybans and motions for you to put them on. 

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, this will do. It’ll do just fine,” He says, satisfied as he begins to walk down the hill. Then, as an afterthought, he says to Dustin, “Good call, dude.”

Dustin beams with pride and you fill with so much happiness, seeing the boy getting along so well with Steve, that you almost regret not having them meet sooner. However, there’s no time to wallow in what-if’s and you put Steve’s sunglasses on to follow after the boys. 

Immediately you and Steve get to work, working seamlessly together side by side, months of him joining you in Bookstrordinary finally being put to use. While you and Steve silently scatter more meat and grab supplies, Dustin surveys the area.

Just as you’ve dumped the remaining meat in the middle of the field, you hear Lucas’ voice call from a few yards away, “I said medium well!”

The boy is with Max, who looks slightly displeased, yet curious, to be here. Despite her still obvious hesitation, you still feel excited seeing the girl. You’ve been meaning to talk more to her, she seems like such a lovely girl. 

“Who’s that?” Steve asks you.

“Max! She’s great, and–” You start gushing about the girl, eager to go and say hi, before you see the crestfallen look on Dustin’s face when he realizes why she’s with Lucas. You remember, then, the weird tug-of-war between the boys over her. Shit. 

You grab at Steve’s hand and pull him aside. “Actually, Steve, why don’t we start finding some panels to cover the bus?”

Steve gives you a questioning look, but when you silently motion towards Dustin and he sees his despair as well, he catches on and just nods, following along. Without having to tell him, he understands that you want to leave Dustin alone so he can talk to Lucas. 

As always, you’re forever thankful that he can read you so well. 

After guiding Steve away, you and him begin to prep the junkyard alongside Max. While the boys are talking, you take this as an opportunity to get to know the girl better. 

“So,” you begin, helping Max carry a large piece of wood over to the bus. “I see you’re back again.”

“Looks like it,” she shrugs, not really feeling like talking. Seems like she’s still mad at you for yesterday, taking Lucas’ side over hers. 

You sigh. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

“That’s a first.” Again she deflects, but you know she’s doing it out of hurt rather than maliciousness. 

“I know you don’t really like me right now, which I totally understand, I just wanted to let you know that while I don’t like that you’ve been dragged into this mess, I’m happy you’re here.”

Max frowns at you. “You guys act like I’m going to like, die or something.”

A scrap of metal that you’d been carrying slips from your hands. Steve hears this and comes rushing over to help, but you gently wave him away and focus on Max. “I don’t know what Lucas told you, but it’s all true. It’s dangerous, being here, and I just… If you ever get hurt, any of you kids, then it’d be on me and I’d never forgive myself.”

“Way to be a buzzkill, Y/N.” Steve nudges you, trying to get you to smile before your ever-present guilt bears down upon you. 

Max bites her lip, still disbelieving, but she recognizes the pained look of protectiveness on your face. It’s not something that someone can easily fake, and from what she’s heard about you, your kindness is one of the few genuine things in Hawkins. 

Before she can say anything else, Steve lets out a huff and grabs a chair to bang on the car that Lucas and Dustin are talking behind. “Hey! Dickheads! How come it’s only Y/N and some random girl helping me?”

“Language!” You chastise. 

Steve sends you a thumbs up, not really listening. “We lose light in forty minutes. Let’s go!”

Dustin and Lucas reluctantly start helping, both calling Steve an asshole and throwing him dirty looks, which you can’t help but laugh at. 

Lucas sees you laughing and points at you. “Are you the reason Harrington is here?”

“Mhm,” you respond, nailing another piece of wood to the bus. “He’s done more to help than you have, so either pick up some metal and help or go sit in a corner and sulk. Up to you.”

Steve high fives you. “Yeah! What she said!”

Lucas’ shoulders sag, completely at a loss as to how any of this has happened. “This is so weird.”

“Dude, I’ve spent all day with them. Imagine how I feel,” Dustin groans. “I think I died a little when I found out they’ve been friends for like, a year.”

“A year?” Lucas gasps. 

“Guys!” You throw pebbles at the two boys to break up their little gossip session. “One, I’m incredibly hurt you two didn’t think I had any friends besides Jonathan. Two, start helping before I throw more rocks.”

“Yes ma’am,” both boys grumble in unison, which Max finds pretty impressive. 

After that, the five of you get to work. You guys use every item available in the junkyard to secure the bus, hoping that with enough stacked against it, you’ll be safe from Dart once he’s lured. Barrels are rolled, more sheets of metal are placed against the bus, and within the next hour or so you’ve successfully managed to build a decent base. 

All that’s left is to pour the gasoline trail, which you help Steve with as the kids watch from inside the bus. 

“I’m getting major deja-vu right now,” you mumble as Steve pours. 

“Gasoline at Jonathan’s?” 

“Mhm. God, he wouldn’t believe what we’re doing right now.” You know he would’ve loved this bizarre interaction. You, Steve, and the kids all in a junkyard trying to lure a baby Demogorgon. 

You’ve definitely had better babysitting days, and Jonathan would have a field day with this one. 

Once you’re done with the gasoline, you and Steve return to the bus. He waits behind you, making sure you’re securely in the car, before he heaves the old bus door closed. As soon as the door is closed, you and Steve exhale together.

You share a look, both in silent agreement to keep the kids safe no matter what. It’s your guys’ job to keep them safe, to fight for and protect them. 

Deja-vu again. You’re back in Jonathan’s house, holding a switchblade while Steve wields his bat. 

“Ready?” He asks you, extending his hand out for you to grab. 

You interlock your fingers through his. “When am I ever?”

Steve laughs, dispelling away any remaining uncertainty and fear. You know, that no matter what, that he’ll be by your side to help. With this in mind, you join the kids further into the bus. 

Lucas climbs the ladder up to the top, something you’re not fully okay with, but he’s the one with the binoculars and you the switchblade, so it makes the most sense. As the boy climbs, you sit down next to Steve as he flicks his lighter on and off. You’re pressed shoulder to shoulder, his presence grounding you.

Dustin paces, and all you can do is watch him as you try to settle your own nerves. Max has seated herself at the other end of the bus, her arms crossed as usual. 

After a few moments of silence, she finally speaks. “So, you really fought one of these things before?”

Steve nods and you hum in agreement. “Unfortunately.”

“And you’re, like, totally, 100% sure it wasn’t a bear?”

“I mean, to be fair I also had that same thought last year–”

Dustin cuts you off. “Shit, don’t be an idiot, okay? It wasn’t a bear.”

You roughly grab at your brother, yanking him towards you to shut him up. “Dustin–”

“Why are you even here if you don’t believe us?” He sneers at Max, something you’ve never, ever seen your sweet brother do. “Just go home.”

Max clenches her jaw and you send her an apologetic look, but she rolls her eyes at you. “Geesh, someone’s cranky. Past your bedtime?” 

“Max, wait–” She ignores you and climbs up the ladder to join Lucas. You groan once she’s gone, now more than ever wanting to strangle your brother. “Dustin, what the hell was that?”

“That was good, Y/N!” Steve says, a proud smirk on his face. “He showed her he didn’t care, just like I told him to.”

“Oh, so it’s your fault my sweet, innocent baby brother is now some woman hating misogynistic piece of–”

“I don’t hate women, Y/N.” Dustin tiredly says, before directing his next words to Steve. “And I don’t care.”

Steve winks at the boy, but immediately flinches back when you raise your hand to smack him. “Yeah, cower away, you idiotic and moronic–”

“Y/N, stop overreacting and Steve, stop winking at me.”

You raise your eyebrows at Dustin’s tone and he quickly clears his throat and steps away from you. Steve puts some distance between you two as well, scooting away a bit so that he’s out of hitting range. 

It’s quiet again, both boys now scared of your anger, and you anxiously wait for Dart to show up. 

Steve goes back to flicking the lighter, Dustin paces again, and you tap your foot nervously. The silence is killing you, it’s always been your least favorite part of the Upside Down. The waiting, hoping you’re prepared for when all hell inevitably breaks loose. 

You flick your own blades out, admiring the way the blades catch in the moonlight, when you hear a loud growl come from outside. Instinctively you raise your blades to your face while Steve and Dusin scramble to peek through the metal sheets to look out the window. 

“You guys see him?” Dustin asks as he crouches next to you. 

You shake your head. “No,”

There’s nothing outside, only a thick haze of fog that has settled over the junkyard. 

“Lucas, what’s going on?” Your brother calls up to his friend.

“Hold on!” The boy responds. 

Your heart begins to beat faster, your blades never straying away from your face, poised for a fight. Steve sees the way your knuckles whiten over your weapon and he grabs your spare hand, gently coaxing you to calm down. 

Your fingers tighten around Steve’s and you remember his words from last night, promising you that he’ll be there, and you believe him. 

From the bus’ roof, you hear Lucas call down, “I’ve got eyes! Ten o’clock–ten o’clock!”

There, in the haze of fog, you see a hunched figure stalk its way towards the bus. Seeing Dart, you’re filled with complete dread. He’s grown again, much bigger than you’ve ever seen him.

He’s practically the size of the Demogorgon from last year, the same one that almost killed you and Steve. 

“What’s he doing?” Dustin asks, as if anyone else would have any more information than he does. 

“I don’t know,” Steve sighs, his eyes never leaving Dart. 

You squeeze his hand again and hold your breath as you watch the Demodog. He slowly approaches the bait, inspects the area, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in it. You send a silent prayer to whatever god is above that your plan will work. 

It has to work. 

However, Dart starts to back away from the bait and Steve leans even closer to the window. “He’s not taking the bait. Why isn’t he taking the bait?”

“I don’t know,” you want to cry from exhaustion and fear and defeat. 

Dustin looks over at you. “Maybe he’s not hungry?”

Something seems to click, then, for Steve. His eyes light up with an idea, and before he can even get his words out, you grasp at Steve’s arm and try to talk him out of it. “No, absolutely not. You’re not going out there.”

“Maybe he’s sick of cow.” Steve tries to make you let go of him, but you quickly tighten your hold on him and fight back. “Y/N, let me go, I can run fast and–”

“You can’t just use yourself as bait!” You plead, but Steve has always been stronger than you and he drags you behind him as he makes his way towards the bus door. “Steve, listen to me!”

“Steve? Steve!” Dustin finally catches on to what’s happening and he grabs at the teen as well. “What are you doing?”

Steve ignores you both and with a quick jerk of his arm, he frees himself from you. As soon as you’ve let go, he runs towards the door and snatches his bat from the ground. You curse, knowing there’s no way in hell he’s going out there alone, so you follow after him. 

Dustin sees this and panics. “Y/N, please don’t tell me you’re going–”

“Stay put!” You command, scrambling after Steve, who has now begun to open the door. He tosses you the lighter, which you toss to your brother. “Just get ready, Dustin!”

“Y/N!”

“I love you!”

Dustin continues to shout, his pleas laced with more fear than you’ve ever heard from him, but you force yourself to leave. Just as you’ve stepped outside and re-closed the bus door, Dustin pounds against the glass that you’ve locked, tears in his eyes.

You look away, despite how fucking hard it is, and it takes everythin within you to leave. 

Steve saved your life last year. 

Now it’s your turn. 

It’s tense outside as you and Steve walk back to back, weapons out. He twirls his bat a few times, a move that you find yourself smiling at due to its familiarity. With your back against his, you whisper to Steve, “You look for Dart, I keep an eye for anything else?”

He nods, and together the two of you slowly follow the sound of Dart’s chittering. 

“C’mon buddy,” Steve taunts, beginning to whistle. 

“I know we named it a Demodog, but I don’t think whistling will help.”

“We could be about to die, and you’re seriously questioning what I’m doing?”

You shrug, eyes now on the skyline as the fog slowly thickens. “Habit.”

Steve chuckles, which brings some comfort to the fucking awful situation at hand. He whistles some more, continuing to taunt Dart. “C’mon. Dinner time.”

“Again with offering Dart meals while we’re near him,” you shake your head, not at all liking where any of this is going.

“What? At least human tastes better than cat.” Steve responds, now at the pile of raw meat.

You both stop here, Steve facing the bait and you facing the bus, still scanning for literally anything else that could possibly go wrong. Because you’re Y/N Henderson and nothing can ever, ever go right for you. 

Dart lets out another growl, now having spotted Steve, and the teen swings his bat around. You spare a quick glance behind you and see Dart, who has placed all his focus on you and Steve. 

Well, at least the live bait plan is working. 

You turn away again, and as soon as you do, you see the other Demodogs now suddenly appear. Your blood runs cold when you see the two up ahead, one directly in front of you and one on top of the cars. 

For a moment, your words seem to fail you and no sound comes out when you try to speak. All you can do is stare at them, overcome with fear. You’re back in Jonathan’s once more, the fear strangling you as the memories paralyze you. 

From the top of the bus, Lucas yells, “Steve! Y/N! Watch out!”

“We’re a little busy here!” Steve yells back, eyes still on Dart. 

The Demodog in front of you starts to approach, which finally seems to break you from your spell. Shakily, you tell Steve, “There’s more.”

“What?” He tries to turn around, but you shove at him to not lose sight of Dart. You can’t distract him now. Another Demodog has joined.

“Three o’clock! Right in front of Y/N!” Lucas screams, his voice cracking with fear. 

“Y/N?” Steve fully turns around now when he realizes that you’re also in danger, and when he sees the three other Demodogs, he lets out a curse. “Shit.”

Suddenly, you and Steve are surrounded by Demodogs, more than you ever could’ve imagined. More than the two of you can even fight on your own. 

Back at Jonathan’s, it had taken guns, fire, knives, and bats to kill a grown Demogorgon. 

You don’t think your knives and Steve’s bat will be enough for Demodogs. 

“Steve! Y/N! Abort!” Dustin has flung the bus door open, screeching for the two of you to get out of there. 

It’s too late. Dart has opened his mouth and is running towards you two, his friends joining as well. 

“I go left, you go right!” Steve has just enough time to direct you before Dart lunges. 

You dodge, going right as instructed while Steve flings himself on top of a car to avoid the monsters. As Steve hits Dart with his bat, crouched against the car, you narrowly avoid the other Demodog and drop to the ground as it jumps over your head. “Shit!”

Steve swings his bat again and tries to make his way over to you, but you’re off the ground in a heartbeat and run to him instead. Two of the Demodogs are on him now, and there’s only so much damage his bat can do. Breathless, you run over and stab at their backs, doing everything you can to give Steve an opening to run. 

Faintly, you hear the kids in the background cheering you guys on, urging you two to come home.

One of the Demodogs lets out a harsh screech as your blade pierces its skin. It crumbles to the ground, giving Steve just enough of an opening to begin running towards the bus. When he goes to run, you notice one of the Demodogs eying him, and before you can even process what’s happening, you’re throwing yourself in front of him and you feel nails tear at your ribs.

You scream, clutching at your side in agony, feeling blood quickly beginning to spill from your wound. “Fuck!”

“Y/N!” Steve starts to run toward you, pale with fear. 

“No!” You shove him back towards the bus; you can’t let him get hurt because of you. “Go, I’ll be fine!” 

He tries to argue, but you take a deep breath and grip his jacket tightly, practically flinging him inside the bus just before Dart lunges again. Together, the two of you stumble up the steps and barricade the door. 

As soon as it’s closed, Dart begins slamming against it with his entire body. 

Steve uses his legs to hold the door closed while you lay sprawled on the ground, trying to steady your breathing as more blood spills from you. The room is spinning and you’re pretty sure you can taste blood in your mouth. 

Awesome. Cool. 

The kids are screaming and Dart’s body causes the entire bus to rock as his friends now join, throwing their own bodies against the bus as well.

“Are they rabid or something?” Max screams, but everyone ignores her. 

Steve, quick as ever, finds a spare piece of metal and wedges it against the door and uses his legs again to hold it in place. He looks over at you on the ground and feels his heart jump to his throat. You’re pale, a sheen of sweat now dotted across your forehead, and there’s now a concerningly large pool of blood where you lay. “Dustin, go help your sister!”

Dustin looks up and finally notices your injury and almost faints at the sight. In a daze, he runs over to you and kneels down, terrified of how much blood there is. “Oh my god.”

“I’m fine,” you wince, trying to clench your teeth and bear through the pain. “Honestly, this is like a paper cut.”

“Y/N–” The sound of glass shattering cuts Dustin off as a Demodog breaks through the window. Everyone screams, and your brother grabs your arms and drags you further towards the back of the bus to avoid any glass getting on you. 

Wearily, you watch as Steve does whatever he can with his bat, and a part of you wants to laugh. He looks like he’s playing the hardest game of wack-a-mole ever. 

Meanwhile, Lucas and Max have joined you and Dustin. When they see you, Lucas lets out a choked scream while Max covers her eyes. 

“Are you okay?” Lucas kneels over you as well, and you find his sincerity endearing. He’s always been the sweetest in the group, the most comforting. 

“Never been better,” you wheeze out. 

Dustin instructs Lucas to stay with you while he tries to radio for help. “Is anyone there? Mike? Will? God? Anyone!”

“God would be pretty nice to have.” You remark, pain making you even more delirious than usual. 

Max looks at Lucas. “She’s losing it.”

“I think I’m doing great, all things considered.”

Dustin continues to scream into his walkie for help while Lucas tries to stop your bleeding. Max is running around, looking for anything to help, and Steve is still stuck at the front of the bus playing wack-a-mole with Demodogs. 

The situation is so fucking grim, and you’ve never wanted to laugh more. 

Then, to make matters even worse, the ceiling of the bus starts to creak. You see the faint outlines of what suspiciously looks like Demodog footprints on the roof. In slow, agonizing footsteps, Dart makes his way over to the emergency exit on top.

He leers over, and Max, who is at the bottom of the ladder, screams. 

Steve shoves the kids back and you try to get up, but Lucas pushes you down and shakes his head at you. 

“You want some? Come get this!” Steve places himself between Dart and you and the kids, screaming at the thing and waving his bat around, and you’ve never been more attracted to him.

Dart lets out a blood curdling screech, his mouth full of rows of razor sharp teeth that killed your cat just the other day, and you cling onto Lucas’ hand. Another screech, and just before Dart strikes at Steve, it jumps off the bus and runs away. 

Everyone freezes, unsure what to do, as more distant growls and howls can be heard from outside. Steve and the rest stand up, and you notice Lucas holding Max’s hand, and at least something good came out of this hellhole of a day. 

“Any help here?” You finally ask after a minute or so, still lying helplessly on the ground as you bleed.

“Shit!” Steve drops his bat. “Where did it get you, where’s the bleeding? Dustin, did we pack any bandages, or–or an EMT stretcher or–”

“Steve,” you grab his hand, urging him to calm down. “It scratched the fuck out of my ribcage, but I’m not dying. I promise.”

“You’re not?” Dustin asks, tears in his eyes. 

“I’m not. I just…” you shift, wincing at the pain. “I just really need a bandage and I’ll be good as new.”

Steve swallows, a frenzied look in his eyes, and nods. Without thinking, he tears a piece of your bloodied cardigan off and gently lifts your body up so that he can wrap the shred of cloth around you. He weaves it tight, his movements slow and delicate, his eyes never leave yours. 

You can feel his hands shaking as he tends to your wound and ties the cloth with a knot. When he’s done, even though you’re aware of the kids’ eyes on you two, you bring his hands to your lips and kiss them. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” He whispers, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. Dustin coughs, which seems to make Steve remember where he is, and he clears his throat. “Right, well. Try not to lose any more blood, yeah?”

“I’ll try,” 

Steve nods and stands back up, knowing Dustin and Lucas will want a moment with you, and makes his way back outside. He knows that they’re all still in danger, even if for some reason the Demdogs seem to have left. 

Once Steve is gone, Dustin and Lucas help you stand, and as soon as you’re up, both boys try their best to give you a hug without hurting you. 

“Don’t do that ever again,” Dustin sniffs, squeezing your uninjured side tightly.

“What he said,” Lucas sniffs as well, though he tries to hide his tears from you. 

You laugh, your own tears evident as you hold the boys tight. “I promise.” 

“You saved Steve,” Max notes, though her tone is neutral, you can see she’s impressed.

“I had to even out a debt.” 

“Guys,” Steve calls from outside. “The coast is clear.”

Slowly, you and the kids make your way out of the bus. It takes some help from both Dustin and Lucas, but eventually you’re able to walk on your own, holding your side, and walk down the steps. 

“You okay?” Steve is by your side as soon as you’ve stepped down, holding you so that he’s not touching your cut. You’re thankful for his support, the pain still making you feel woozy. 

“We’ll talk later,” you motion towards the kids, not wanting to worry them any further. 

He nods, although he hates that you feel like you can’t focus on your own safety. 

“What happened?” Lucas asks the group. 

“I don’t know.” Max looks around, and you think she’s finally starting to understand what she’s gotten herself into. 

Dustin points to you and Steve. “Maybe they scared ‘em off?”

“No,” Steve shakes his head. It couldn’t have been that easy. “No way.”

“They’re going somewhere.” You finish for him, confirming your worst fears. Suddenly, more pain shoots through you and you wince again, squeezing your eyes shut. 

Steve bends his head down, guiding you a bit away from the kids so that they won’t hear. “Hey, we don’t have to follow them. We can go home, you know.”

“We can’t.” You clench your jaw as pain rings throughout your body. The goddamn Demodog got you good. “We have to follow. It’s all connected, Will and his episodes, Nancy and Jonathan with the detective, and I’ll be damned if I back down now.”

“So we follow?” Steve asks, trusting whatever call you make.

You nod, knowing you have to do this. While you guys are safe for now, you know that everyone else has to be in danger; you have to protect them. “Unfortunately.” 

-

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[todreamadream]

Gwynriel One-Shot: Hair Disaster

Azriel walked into the training ring a little earlier than usual to set up for a new exercise he thought of last night. He knew it would hex the pretty Priestess and it was with that thought he fell into slumber, dreaming of her bottomless teal eyes. 

He expected the cool chill in the air and the foggy morning, he expected to see Gwyn who typically comes early to get ahead, but he did not expect to see his brother kneeling behind the teal-eyes Valkyrie. Cassian’s hands were entangled in knots within her coppery strands, his head bent over the mess. He was muttering curses under her breath and Gwyn was covering her laugh at him struggling. 

‘Well, well, you never told me you were a hair stylist Cass. If I knew sooner I would’ve booked an appointment.’ 

His brother continued and ignored him. Rude. 

‘Shadowsinger, run while you still can. Cassian here has been at this since the sun rose and he’s still so terrible.’

That got a reaction out of the infamous General, ‘Hey! I’ve done this before, and been quite good at it. It’s your hair that’s the problem. It’s too long and thick and there’s just so much of it.’

‘So, it’s my fault that I have luscious locks? You never should have suggested braiding it if you knew that it was too advanced for you.’

‘It’s my first time doing your hair Gwynnie. It will go better the more I practice!’

She looked horrified at the thought, Az couldn’t help but grin at the thought of this becoming a usual thing. 

‘For Cauldran’s sake Cassian, I said NO, N - O. I told you to stay away from Gwyn’s hair, you can’t do complex braids until you leave the beginner status.’ Nesta scolds her mate and approaches them to undo the mess he created. 

Cassian looks sheepish as he tries to remove his fingers from Gwyn’s hair, ‘What is everybody doing here? Isn’t training cancelled?’ 

‘Wow Cassian, this is why you wanted to braid my hair on the roof? Because Nesta forbade you to do hers and you thought you could torture me in peace?’ Gwyn raises an eyebrow and turns her head to the side to glare at his brother who in turn smiles adorably.

‘Sorry Gwynnie, but I had to get my practice in somehow. You can untangle the rest on your own right? Nesta and I are going to the Town House to babysit Nyx.’ 

‘You just wait until I get my hands on your hair.’ the General smiles at her threat and gives her a peck on the cheek. Nesta gives Gwyn a look, one Az can’t decipher but she seems to understand the message because she smiles and rolls her eyes at her sister. With that weird interaction, the two of them leave, Nesta’s screaming can be heard as Cass laughs. 

‘I’m going to have to cut off all this hair that Cassian tangled up’ Now this was a truly horrifying thought, Az could not let that happen. Not in his watch.

Azrie heads back to the House and gestures to Gwyn to follow him, ‘Berdara don’t be a quitter. You’ve thrived over feats more worrisome than this.’

‘Shadowsinger, I am a woman. There is nothing more stress-inducing than a bad hair day.’

‘Really? There is nothing more troublesome than your hair?’

‘Well, other than your face of course.’

‘I have it on good authority that I have a very nice face’ 

‘Who’s authority? And your best friend the High Lord doesn’t count.’ cheeky girl. 

He turns to face her, ‘Take a good look at these handsome features Berdara.’

‘I’m looking’, her eyes flick over his face.

‘And?’

‘And…am I supposed to be impressed?’ yes, she was meant to be in awe of his beauty. Az couldn’t tell if this was a ploy or not. Did she genuinely not think he was attractive? He’s never had that problem before, he never needed to ask for female attention. It’s a little vain but he never had to flirt with someone, not like Rhys and Cassian did. 

‘So you’re telling me that if you saw me while you were at a restaurant or at a bar, you wouldn’t notice me.’

She huffs, ‘I never said that. I would most definitely notice the broody bat sulking in a corner.’ He tries to hide the smile threatening to split his face in half. She probably would notice him, and offer him a milkshake. And if he said no she would dump it over his head. 

‘If I saw you in public I would definitely notice you too.’ 

‘Yeah?’ her face has the slightest hue of red on the apples of her cheeks and the tip of her nose. If he didn’t know any better he would think she was blushing. Unfortunately, he did know better and her face was probably reacting to the crisp dawn air. 

‘Yeah. The rat’s nest on your head would be pretty hard to ignore.’

She narrows her teal eyes, ‘Now you’ve taken things too far.’ 

‘Gwyn, by tonight you’re hair will be returned to its normal flowing and untangled self. That’s a promise.’ Her eyes widened in surprise, probably at how seriously he was taking this. They arrived in front of Azriel’s room and he opened the door heading towards the bathing chamber. 

He wishes he had time to dust and scrub at his room before she entered it. He feels self-conscious as her gaze moves around his room, the small bookshelf, the big bed covered in black satin sheets, the closed curtains, and the big rack of weapons along an entire wall on the opposite side of his bed. 

She stays silent as he drags a chair in front of the mirrored sink. He motions for her to come sit in the high seat and turns the tap on to fill the bowl. 

‘Are you planning on fixing my hair on your own?’ she questions him.

‘Yes. Sit down and close your eyes.’ she listens to him and he moves to grab his shampoo when the House drops several products on his head. 

‘Ouch. This is why you should be nicer to the House Shadowsinger. Then maybe it’ll stop attacking you.’

He raises an eyebrow, ‘The House attacks everyone with the exception of you, Nesta, and Emerie.’

‘Fair enough’

He turns on the faucet and begins to lather the shampoo in his hands before finally touching her hair. He massages her scalp with his hands and he knows he’s not imagining the satisfied sighs coming out of her mouth. His heart is racing and he does his best to savour this moment, to be satisfied with this memory of running his hands through her delicious coppery hair. The scent of the shampoo is so familiar, he smells it from Gwyn every day and he can’t resist inhaling deep breaths to take in all the lilac and ocean-breezed aroma. 

Far too soon her hair is back to its natural gorgeous state. Gwyn’s eyes are still closed and she’s humming some indecipherable tune under her breath. 

‘Gwyn, I’m done now. You can open your eyes.’ That was the wrong thing to say. Her eyes flash open and he’s in direct eye contact with an ocean of glimmering teal. 

‘Thanks, Shadowsinger. Anytime you need I’ll return the favour.’

‘Berdara, I doubt I would need help detangling my hair.’ He gestures towards his much shorter hair compared to hers. 

She smiles and his heart goes into overdrive, ‘Az, I meant I’ll be happy to cut your hair anytime you need.’

‘You know how to cut hair?’ They’re walking to his door and he wishes he could just keep her with him in his room with his things. Wishes they didn’t have to depart ways so soon. 

She replies to his earlier statement, ‘I know how to do a lot of things.’ And she winks. She fucking winks. He was light-headed all of a sudden, she couldn’t possibly be flirting with him. The Priestess is a know-it-all and a smartass, of course, she knows a lot of things. All Azriel thought about that night was how soon it was to get a haircut from the Priestess. And how it would feel to bask in her warm presence once again. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough. 

Notes: Thanks for reading! The grammar isn’t the best I am aware. But I wrote the first portion of this one-shot so long ago and I needed to just hurry up and complete it or I never would have posted this. Should I do a part 2 of Gwyn giving Azriel a haircut? 

[leviathanofdeath]

rotb spoilers i talk abt Noah in depth bc im autistic and its 1 am

(this is also strictly talking abt the movies)

idk bout yall, but i really like Noah and his character and the way he interacts with everything thrown at him., I really like how (because of Mirage's chill personality) he wasn't completely overwhelmed by the existence of robot aliens. sure he was freaking the hell out abt the car driving by itself but yknow he caught on pretty quickly. and this is also due to the fact that he wanted to save earth as well. and specifically he wanted to help his brother. can we talk abt the fact that he was so willing to go against his morals just to scrounge up some sort of cash to help his family. as soon as he got into Mirage he was like "I don't wanna do this" and he was trying to get out the car. I also really like the relationship Noah had with his little brother. trying to be that light in his life and give hope. doing everything just to help his little brother not be in so much pain. it was just a nice touch to show us how truly compassionate and caring Noah is and you could really feel that through the performance, imo. you can tell they've both been struggling for quite some time. you feel sorry for when Noah gets immediately rejected by that security officer, and he's completely honest and trying to explain how he deserves a second chance (and he does) and he's probably repeated those reasons a thousand times in the past. he almost completely doubts himself until his brother reiterates that they're always gonna be there together and theybcan do it. and even though it sounds unrealistic, me and my sister have said the same thing to each other so it feels all the more powerful to me. it's a completely different approach to a character in the movie series and I cannot appreciate it enough.

and can I just say, sorry to the sam likers out there, I like how Noah doesn't just immediately insult Mirage trying to save him or befriend him. they actually have a strong ass bond almost right off the bat. sam was always yelling at bee everytime bee came in to save his ass (I hated this bc bee can do no wrong ok) but when Mirage was fighting scourge all by himself JUST to buy time for Noah, literslly risking his life for Noah. literslly becoming a suit of armor for him. Noah was nearly in tears, watching mirage's optics fade becsuse they've already become so close. Noah and Mirage have the silliest banter because they just get along so well. I know it's kind of stupid to compare the two (sam/bee and noah/mirage) but my point is simply: they connect so well together and I really fucking appreciate that. we've seen it with Charlie and Bee where they genuinely care for each other and now we see it again with Noah and Mirage. its just so nice to see the two get along swimmingly. even after they save the world, Mirage meets Noah's brother and everything and Noah begins to fix Mirage up as well. showing that they've become closer after the entire incident.

and Mirage. I just gotta say he is seriously the star of the show. Pete Davidson did an amazing job with him. and Mirage's personality fits with Noah so incredibly well. They've got the same type of style, use the same slang, stuff like that, and they compliment each other. Mirage is so genuinely interested and curious about Noah that he comes off as extremely friendly, defensive, and playful. He doesn't hesitate to risk his life for Noah and he gives Noah a little gauntlet to at least keep himself safe when they're apart. he even tells Noah off the bat that he can turn into any car and be sold so Noah can have money for his family. Maybe its the fact that Mirage has been cooped up and told to stay hidden for so long that he can't help but appreciate the first person to "reawaken" him, but regardless their relationship is just extremely refreshing and nice. The way they can bounce off each other is awesome. God i love them so much honestly I can't think of a better duo than these two theyre just perfect for each other whether its platonic or more

[hedghost]

okay so you know how ella’s bf has a kid what do you think would happen if she asks lessi and her gf to baby sit while ella and joe are away how do you think it’ll go

ella’s boyfriend has a KID??! sorry imagining ella as a parent is sending me she’s literally like 12

anywayyy, back to it. (no clue how old joes kid is or what gender so i’m making it up) i think honestly, it’d go super well. ella would ask less and she’d agree immediately, mostly because she just loves kids anyway but also because she wants to get a look at how you act with children.

only then she’d panic a little on the way home - what if you don’t want to do it? what if you don’t like kids? and so she broaches the subject subtly, but of course you’d be immediately onboard.

ella would drop him off, and you’d be straight away thrilled. you’d have gone all out - buying kids snacks and games, planning activities or places to go. you’d take his hand and lead him into the living room, enthralling him with some game or something right off the bat. alessia would say goodbye to ella, and walk through to find the two of you lying on the rug, him chatting animatedly to you while you grin and and play with some cars or something with him.

alessia would lean against the door frame, smiling as she watches on. not for the first time, she’d imagine this scene in a few years, with a toddler of your own. her heart would melt, and she’d plop herself down next to you both, content to place a hand on your back and smile along.

as it continued though, she’d start to overthink. you were such a natural with him, but alessia started to hesitate. you were so good with kids, how could she compare? she’d feel a little awkward, too worried about the kid liking her to fully get involved with the game. kids of course pick up on this, so he’d gravitate more and more towards you. you wouldn’t notice, too engrossed in entertaining this cute little kid.

the more he seemed to prefer you - directing his words to you, holding out toys to you only, alessia would worry even more. kids were such a big responsibility- how could she ever do this? she knew she was renowned for being clumsy, and what if something happened when she was with a kid? what if she picked him up and tripped over, what if she broke one of his toys, what if she wasn’t paying attention and something happened?

eventually you’d start to notice that alessia seemed to be holding back a little. you knew alessia loved kids, so you’d be a little surprised how she seemed a little hesitant with him - she’d still be playing and chatting, but you’d know her well enough to sense a bit of unease in her eyes.

you’d go to the kitchen to fix him a snack, and you and alessia a cuppa. you’d mimic alessia’s earlier position, body leant against the doorframe, loved up smile as you watched him chat to alessia with ease. but still, you noticed how she seemed a little awkward, not quite the bubbly less you knew and loved.

the day would continue in much the same way. you’d make a note to check on alessia, but this kid is spirited as hell, and he’d keep most of your attention, which you honestly love. you don’t get much chance to be around kids his age like this, and so you’d relish the chance.

eventually he’d occupy himself with some toys, and you’d lean over to alessia and ask if she was alright - tell her that she seemed a little awkward.

alessia would hesitate, before confessing how she’s worried - worried she doesn’t know how to look after kids, worried the kid won’t like her. sure she interacts with children all the time - and loves it - but after watching how easy you interacted with him, how he’d taken an immediate liking to you, she was worried. her initial excitement had been replaced by doubt of whether she was fun enough, likable enough, - and then not to even mention the responsibility of looking after a toddler.

you’d give her a smile and roll your eyes . ‘it’s a three year old lessi, they love anyone’. she’d give a reluctant nod, and you’d realise the extent of her overthinking. you’d reassure her, tell her she had nothing to worry about, that the kid loved her already, that she was more than capable of taking care of a child. anything you could think of to ease her doubts.

‘seriously, i’ve seen you with kids - you’d be an amazing parent lessi’

she’d blush at that, and you’d realise the root of her worries - that she was really thinking about the future, with you, and the family you might build. you’d be able to read it in her expression, and even though you hated seeing her overthinking like this, you’d be thrilled to recognise that she wanted the same thing you did. sure, it’s a while off, but every day you were a little bit more sure that this, you and lessi and a baby in your home, was what you wanted. interacting with this kid was just the confirmation. lessi’s reaction to your comment would show you she was thinking the same thing, and you’d realise how she was worried you didn’t feel the same.

‘i can’t wait till we have kids’ you’d smirk, and lessi would just beam at you. you’d give her a few more reassurances, both of you never taking your eyes off the kid as he amuses himself with the toys, but your hands finding each other’s.

alessia would be calmer at that, more reassured, but you’d be able to tell she was still a little doubtful that the kid liked her. you’d decide on a course of action.

the walk to the park is short, and the three of you do it hand in hand. and then you’d bring out the secret weapon - a kiddie-sized football you’d purchased the day before.

watching lessi play football with this tiny excitable child - your heart would be on the verge of bursting. she’d relax into the familiar motions of a ball at her feet (much more gentle than usual of course) and before you knew it, lessi’s worries would melt away. with alessia like this, now carefree and fully invested in playing with him, this kid would become absolutely enamoured by lessi.

he’d be too tired to walk back, begging instead for a piggy back from less. she’d hold him super tight, grinning from ear to ear at the fact he’d asked for her specifically. the three of you would collapse onto the sofa, him curling up into alessia’s lap and falling asleep immediately. you and alessia would share a look, no words needed at all to know how the other was feeling, and what you were both envisioning for the future.

ella would turn up, letting herself in as she always did, expecting chaos, only to find the three of you cuddled up beneath the blanket, kids tv playing on low, lessi asleep on your shoulder with the kid asleep on her chest. you’d smile up at her, placing a finger to your lips and beckoning for her to sit down.

(ella would spend the next month begging to be godmother to your future babies)

[bellaxgiornata]

hiiii

this might seem like a bit of a weird ask, but you seem super nice and i thought it would be okay if i asked you ! (also sorry if this is long)

i’ve been part of the daredevil fandom for a long time and i’ve been writing about dd for over a year and a half now. before i was writing for this fandom, i wrote fanfic about an entirely different genre for like 10+ years. when i was in the other fandom i wrote exclusively on wattpad, and i made a lot of online friends and was a part of writing communities and it made the experience so much better ! but since i changed directions (and started posting on ao3 first and wattpad second) i’ve had a hard time getting into the dd community.

i’m still new to using tumblr for fanfic so i haven’t posted anything of mine here/ followed many writers here (and i’m working on that !). but i was wondering if you had any advice on how to start chitchatting with other people in the fandom ? it feels super cringy for me to be like “i love your work, maybe you’d like mine !” bc i don’t want people to think i’m just trying to promote myself (i promise i’m not). but i miss being involved in online writing communities. it was one of my favorite things in the other fandom and now i’m struggling to find a place here. i try to respond to comments and have reached out to one or two writers before but it didn’t really go anywhere /:

so, tldr; do you have any advice on getting into the writing community/ making friends in the daredevil fandom ?

(and side note i love your work and have been reading your stuff almost as long as i’ve been writing— i’ve reread FFTD so many times and CANNOT WAIT for more updates on TDAYW and ATY !)

thank you !! sorry again this was so long

Hey friend!! This is actually a really great question that I'm sure you're not alone in wondering about! I definitely agree with you though, making friends in the fandom makes the experience so much more enjoyable. I used to write on FFN until I took a couple of years break from fanfic when I was in grad school. I had never made friends in fandom back then because I hadn't found communities and ways to accomplish that via FFN. Even when I came back to fic on AO3 and shortly after I started writing for Matt, I hadn't made friends right off the bat. But I always tried to respond to comments on my stories which is when I started to realize how fun the community was.

My answer is going to be long, so I'm going to put it below the cut! Also anyone else here reading this, if you have tips for making friends, please feel free to share them!!

Honestly tumblr I think is the way to go for making friendships. I have never used wattpad so I can't speak to the way it is set up, but AO3 doesn't quite allow for that too well because we can only communicate via comments. Tumblr gives so many more opportunities to meet lots of others and comment or send messages or share others' content with reblogs.

It's totally not necessary to share your stories on here, but I think that does help. Or to maybe even just promote your updates on your other platforms with links. Because it gives people an opportunity to come here and talk about your stories with you. But I think content creators, whatever you're making, probably make friends a little easier because we are providing something for others to (hopefully) interact with and consume.

As for reaching out to others, I cannot speak to how everyone would react because I know we all have different boundaries, but I think commenting/comment reblogging regularly on writer's or artist's work that you like is a good start. Or sending friendly messages or asks to someone. Just always be sure to be friendly and respectful.

I personally tend to notice the people I'm always seeing chatting in my notifications and then have made friends that way. It just seems like a natural progression if you're often talking to some people, conversations start to shift outside of just that content. Maybe to the show and then to other things. It's how I also tend to interact with others on here in order to make friends; commenting and sharing their work, sending asks or participating in their events, sending a message with something nice in it.

Though I agree, I think your initial comments to someone shouldn't be something about coming to read your work because it feels pressuring. I had a negative experience with that and didn't know how to handle that when I first got into the fandom and it made me uncomfortable because I never want to be rude or hurtful. So instead, maybe find ways to relate as a writer if you see them talking about writing in general, or other ways to make a comment that mentions that you also write. If they have time and want to read your work they will! And if not, that's okay too! I personally have a growing list of TBR and I mean nothing offensive if I can't get to someone's work, I just personally don't have as much time to read for example.

For me, I just sort of fell into making friends on here because of my writing. And I met so many other talented artists because of that and I've become "fans" of them as well and have had friendships form that way. And it's not just content creators, I've made friends with many wonderful people in the community who are reading my works too! It's fun to chat and dissect the show or to relate about other things (I'm a mom and have met other lovely moms here).

So my advice is to just keep reaching out and talking to people! Some conversations might lead somewhere and some might not. And that's okay! Everyone is different. I personally think the Daredevil fandom as a whole is absolutely amazing and full of wonderful and talented individuals who are more often than not open to making friends ❤️ I always am!

And like I said above, for anyone that has any other tips, please feel free to add them!

(And thank you so much!!! ❤️ I'm so glad you enjoy those stories!!)

[antclan-blogs]

MOON 34

Slightstar interacts with the clan’s kits. Rivernose thinks Hushstep is being nice today.

This moon’s story under the cut!

“Slightstar, Slightstar!” Brokenkit mewed excitedly, bounding up to her as she fed her kits.

“Yes?” The leader responded tiredly, stifling a yawn. Whisperingkit had been up all night, refusing to sleep for reasons yet unknown.

“When I’m older, can you make me deputy?” The small white tom asked, jittering around. He always had more energy first thing in the morning.

“Nuh-uh! Make ME the deputy!” Anisekit butted in, shoving Brokenkit out of the way and batting her eyes at Slightstar.

“No, I want to!” Wheatkit protested, and the three began squabbling as Slightstar watched on with amusement.

“I can’t just make you my deputy if Sunleopard and I are still alive!” The leader smiled. “That’s not quite how it works, unfortunately.”

Brokenkit looked confused. “But Chaffinchbounce is still alive, and you made Sunleopard your deputy anyway.” He protested as Rivernose ambled into the nursery.

“Since when do kits outsmart clan leaders?” The elderly tom joked, giving a low chuckle.

“I have no idea.” Slightstar sighed with a weak smile. “I’m so tired I can hardly feel my own paws.”

Rivernose sat himself down on the soft moss floor, raising an eyebrow as Whisperingkit and Brookkit began pawing at his fluffy tail. “Kits keeping you up?” He guessed. “They sure seem like a handful, alright.”

“You have no idea.” Slightstar sighed as Hushstep trotted in, mouth full of herbs and eyes bright.

“Good morning, ladies.” He greeted. “And Rivernose.” He added hastily, which made Lotuskit and Brokenkit laugh.

“You’re a she-cat now.” Brokenkit whispered cheekily to Rivernose, which earned him a light cuff on the ear.

“Now, I’ve brought some feverfew for your headache, but come straight to me if it doesn’t work.” Hushstep mewed to Bella, a slight spring in his paws as he made his way across the den.

“Someone’s in a good mood today.” Rivernose remarked, gazing at Hushstep curiously.

“Yes, I suppose I am.” Hushstep nodded. “I trained my apprentice well, is all.” The previous evening, Berryspot had told his former mentor all about Stoatstripe’s confession last moon—and how he had dealt with it.

“So you’re getting along again?” Sunleopard asked. “I’m sick of you two bickering all the time.”

Hushstep shrugged. “I’ve accepted that we’re never going to be as close as we were before. But we’re doing alright recently.”

“I suppose it comes with ageing.” Rivernose shrugged. “Berryspot is a full grown tom now, not your wide-eyed apprentice. He won’t always be so agreeable.”

“I love every cat in Antclan, but I can’t say that I’m sorry to be leaving soon.” Bella piped up. “Any longer in this nursery and I’d end up despising you all.”

“That’s kind of you, Bella.” Slightstar mewed dryly, and Sunleopard let out a mrrow of laughter.

“Well, she’s right enough. Kittypets aren’t raised to cope so well with other cats, unless their twolegs keep other cats alongside them. I know it took me and Daisyiris a while to get accustomed to clan life.” Hushstep reasoned.

“It didn’t take me long at all.” Slightstar argued. “Although I was never suited to kittypet life. I think my father was a clan cat, actually.”

“That explains why you ran away.” Lotuskit mewed. All the clan’s kits had been told the story of Antclan’s foundations, and how Slightstar used to be a kittypet who fled her twolegs.

“Yes, it does. I was never happy with my housefolk, no matter how well they treated me.” Slightstar nodded, gazing off into the distance as if remembering an old memory.

“Tell us the story again, Slightstar!” Anisekit pleaded. “It’s SO good!”

Slightstar sighed and readjusted herself. “Alright, alright. Here we go.”

“My name was Rebecca. I had wanted to flee my housefolk since I was young, but I was scared. Scared that I would starve in the wilderness alone, scared that the clans would attack me for straying onto their territory. I knew everything there was to know about the other clans, see—I had studied them for a long time. Ever since I was your age I was fascinated by the way clans lived and communicated. I hated the solitude of being a kittypet, longed for community and family. So after many moons of being bored with life, I ran away and tried to join the clans.

As much as I begged and pleaded for them to let me join, none of them would budge. I was frustrated and angry that they were so prejudiced towards a kittypet, that I vowed one day I would start my own clan—one that would always accept loners and kittypets, no matter who they were. I found the camp when I was wandering beyond the clan’s territories, and lived there for many moons as a loner. While I was still bored and lonely, at least I was free.

Eventually, I heard news of a fight between a group of rogues and the clans. A few clan cats had been exiled for refusing to fight the rogues, saying that they had done nothing wrong. I hoped that perhaps these rogues and their clan cat friends would be willing to join my new clan, and I trekked across all the territories to find them. The rogues and exiled cats had been sheltering in some twoleg dump, and I invited them to come with me to the beautiful camp I had found farther away from the other clans than they were now.

To my surprise, they agreed, and I proposed my idea of starting a new and friendly clan. We would call it Antclan, I said, because the camp looked like the grassy earth that colonies of ants crawled around in. A few rogues didn’t like my idea, and left the camp, but most stayed. They were the cats who formed Antclan, and I became their leader. I soon realised that we would need a medicine cat, so I visited the local twolegplace and managed to recruit two kittypet friends, Whisper and Daisy, to join the clan. They became Hushstep and Daisyiris.

Now, Antclan thrives. We have a new generation of cats, and we don’t discriminate cats on where they came from.”

Slightstar finished her story with a deep breath, and every kit in the nursery was silent for a few seconds. Rivernose smiled at the memory, and Sunleopard’s eyes shone as she remembered her youth in the rogue group.

“How did you get the name Slightstar?”

“What happened to the rogues who left?”

“Why didn’t the other clans let you join?”

The kits’ questions suddenly came pouring in, overwhelming the tired clan leader. She blinked a few times before opening her mouth to answer, but Sunleopard stopped her.

“Hey, hey. Everyone settle down and let Slightstar rest. She’ll answer your questions later, alright?” The ginger deputy mewed, and the kits reluctantly murmured agreement.

Slightstar gave a nod of gratitude and laid her head down to nap. Though life could be stressful, she was as grateful as ever that things had worked out in the end.

there’s some sweet lore for y’all <33 i love how i totally made up bella and she isn’t even in clangen but she’s one of my faves like what

[artsinus]

I'm starting a little something new.... Ai Review #1

Edit: It’s gone :3

Hello peeps, today is the start of my new series of posts called "Ai review" where I'll be reviewing text generation AI ranging from novel ais, chat ais, etc. Though I don't know much about the ins and out of ai, I think I know all the basic knowledge revolving ai. I'm doing this out of pure fun, so always take my review with a grain of salt, and remember everybody's experiences will differ. I hope this can shed light on some of the more obscure ai services out there. Todays selection is an ai site named "AiSekai", They claim that you can have deep conversation with the ai and they will remember your interactions. The model is their own but they do not specify the parameters. Overall rating: 8.5/10 UI design: 7.5/10 Character variety: 7/10

General features: 7/10

Nsfw Filter: No

Personality accuracy: 7.5/10 (This mostly depends on the creator)

Cohesiveness: 10/10

Fun factor: 10/10

It's very exceptional and works quite good. However, some UI elements aren't able to be removed so it kind of creates pointless clutter. Memory isn't awesome, but a lot of ais don't have good memory so I'll give it the benefit of the doubt. it's very fun to talk to the characters as there is no filter to limit what I can and cannot do.

Overall very nice. It’s a very good alternative to something like character ai, so try it yourself and see if you like it!

I believe I found this one through a random reddit post, but so far, the UI looks pretty sleek and simple. So, there will be categories and features that I will be considering on rating 1-10 for general chat services like these.

Character personalities, cohesiveness, fun factor, memory, character variety, general features, ease of character creation, and does it have a NSFW filter?

Okay, lets get started. The first thing I can do right off the bat is search for a character I would know. Except, there isn't there any PGR characters or BA characters. There are some Hololive characters but not my oshis so mehh.

Well, overall, you won't be finding any obscure characters from any fandoms are here. And no Linh, there are no Brawlhalla characters. You'll probably be seeing a lot more genshin ais on here if anything.

Character variety: 7/10

Well, since this ai is named "AiSekai", I guess its appropriate if I chose a character from Prosekai. Lets see who's available. It's odd how when I search "Project", the characters appear but If i searched "Project Sekai", they don't appear.

I'll be choosing Emu as her personality is pretty easy.

There is a bit of loading screen for talking to the ai so its not exactly seamless.

The chat UI is quite nice so far, and the ability to edit and refresh is here but that's obvious. There's nothing new and groundbreaking, it's just your run of the mill chat ai. General features: 7/10

Lets start off with testing out her cohesiveness and how accurate the ai knows her personality. I myself don't know much about her, but I'll figure it out along the way. Lets start off with some general talking. Lets say I ask her what her favorite food is? Keep in mind, an ai can be good or bad depending on how the creator wrote the ai.

I guess my nickname is rice lover now. But she seems in character so far. I'll ask what food I like at least later on in the chat.

Lets move on to the big general issue. Filters. Lets see if this ai can generate NSFW stuff. In the reddit comments, they said there was no filter.

Okay, so acts of violence are allowed. So far, better than a few ais I've used. Although, it took a bit of time to generate, so maybe there is a filter going on, but at least it didn't tell me "Sorry, I cannot compute this act of violence."

Ahem, so maybe I should test up some more sussy ones. For educational purposes of course.

Wow, this really doesn't have a filter. Jokes aside, I did in fact test it.

It pisses me off I can't get rid of the recent chars tab, but never the less, so far the word ain't filtered. That probably means it can do a lot more. Also, yes, I did test it out properly... With Shrek of course and nsfw is possible. EDUCATION PURPOSES. Nsfw Filter: No (Which is good depending on the person)

Well, judging on these messages, it is pretty accurate with personality and it is cohesive.

Cohesiveness: 10/10

It's also very fun since there is no filter limiting me, so 10/10 it is. Fun factor: 10/10

After talking to Emu about Shrek and cooking, lets ask her about what my favorite food is and see if she remembers.

Aw, looks like the ai doesn't remember. Don't expect them to remember something from at least 10 messages ago! Memory: 6/10

Overall, the chatting experience is quite exceptional. This is a very very good alternative to Character.Ai. Lets check out character creation.

Lots of options that can help very much with the ai's personality and chatting quality. Unfortunately, some of these will be forgotten as along the line, the descriptions will most likely be thrown out. However, this isn't unusual as it happens all the time with chat ai services like these.

The fact that there is tags and a way to enable/disable nsfw is quite nice as it allows you to have a more streamlined search engine. There's a lot to customize and add. Kind of overwhelming since I don't create ais often. But so far, it looks nice and simple. Ease of character creation: 9/10

This is the end of this review. It'll probably get better the more I understand the guidelines and once I understand how to rate better.

[thessalian]

Thess vs First Forge

Forbidden West-blogging returns! The last few days have mostly been using the interactive map I found to go trawling for data points. Not enough spoons to do much hunting, besides a Stormbird and Dreadwing combo up in the mountains, which was depressing because I was looking for Apex and did not find Apex. But today, I sort of multitasked my hyperfocus between a text RP scene and noodling around the Forbidden West.

Okay. I have a lot of data points. I think I can save some of the rest for whenever I'm supposed to trip over them in quests. Now. Time for hunting.

Google-fu tells me thaaaaat ... well, that you stand a better chance of getting an Apex machine during the in-game night. Well, there's supposedly a shiny new Dreadwing spawn point right at a campfire I passed when I was finding firegleam as per Sylens' bloody orders. So as it's in-game night, let's try there.

...And there it is AND IT SAYS APEX!

......And its scrambler field is basically right on top of the spawn point and now I am discovered. Fuuuuuuuck.

THE THINGS I DO FOR SHINY ARMOUR HOLY SHIT.

Okay. Okay. Back to campfire. Over to Thornmarsh. I have my shiny salvage and all is good.

SHINY LEGENDARY STEALTH ARMOUR WOO!

Now, lemme upgraaaaaaaaade ... and I need more Apex Dreadwing bits. Well, night isn't over and shit respawns fast.

Lemme see if I can dodge around the perimeter of that scrambler field.

...Fuck.

Huh. It ... was hanging upside down there, just like an actual bat. That's really cool. Or would be, if it wasn't trying to EAT MY FACE.

There. Okay. That should do. Back to campfire, find a shelter, upgrade.

Aaaaaaaaaand now I need Slitherfang bits. Fuck Slitherfangs right in the ear. I guess I should probably start the whole AETHER deal.

...Lemme do First Forge first. Maybe I'll get lucky. Lemme talk to Erend.

Oh, good, you found coordinates-- wait. You're coming too?!? Okay, you have very good reasons for wanting to, so sure. But if you fuck up my stealth I am going to be very disappointed in you.

Huh. I had the nearest campfire, even. Good. See, this is why I go all over the place getting campfires. Makes getting to actual spots for quests so much easier when the time comes.

Okay, Erend. They've got door guards and--

Wait. EREND wants to pull a SUBTERFUGE?!? Oh, this is going to be hilarious.

.........On one level, it's kind of nice that the door guards are smart enough not to buy that. On the other hand ... well, fuck. We're in, anyway.

Why is there nothing that's going to give me some damn cover in this cave?!? Fuck you, Asera. Right in the ear.

Yes, Erend. I am still actually really damn good at this. Get better every day, in fact. Sorry I'm not letting you get all that much use out of your hammer.

Did ... did you just hand me precision ammo? You are now my hero.

Okay, so she ran off aaaaaaaand ... there's another door.

Which ... shut ominously behind us. Hope I got everything worth getting in there.

Why do you just happen to have explodo barrels on that bridge? More to the point, why didn't you wait until we were on it to blow it up, if you want us dead so badly?

Thanks, Erend. To you and to your hammer.

Lady, if you want tripwires, try to have them be a little less obvious, okay? That kind of shit works on machines, not people.

Outside? Okay-- aaaaaaaaand that's the cave mouth blocked. What've you got for us, Asera?

...Clawstrider? That's it? Fuck off, Clawstrider. POONK.

And Asera has ... quite the health bar. But I'll just be over here. POONK. POONK. POONK.

And that's the end of you. Yeah, head on back to the Base, Erend. I have looting to do.

Huh. Asera keeps a diary. "Dear Diary, my culture is sexist and my dad's a jerk and so I want everybody to burn". Also, Sylens, you are a shitheel.

Now, there's supposed to be another data point up here. Since I'm in the area...

Got it. Now ... there's that settlement that's been outright taunting me. And it's ... way below me. I wonder...

Glidiiiiiiiiiing ... and in I go. I'm not really supposed to be in here yet, but fuck it. I want to read about the people who blew up Yosemite.

There is something WRONG with these CLIMBING POINTS.

*checks Google*

Oh. There'll be a quest here later. Hopefully I'll be able to do what I need to when the quest is active. Which it won't be until I do the quest for AETHER. Okay, okay, I go.

(I'll be given a Slitherfang to hunt anyway.)

Hi, Dekka. Look, I--

No, but--

Oh, fine, okay, I will go and talk to Hekarro. Also I will get these data points and--

Oooooooooh, this is the Ten. Joint Task Force 10. I guess that makes more sense, given that they wouldn't have had a clue about Zero Dawn, GAIA, or GAIA's subordinate functions. Still, I guess it works to an extent anyway. GAIA and her subordinate functions were what JTF-10 were fighting for. Also, coincidence to a point, but narratively speaking, even what seems like a coincidence in the story may not be a coincidence to the writer. Anyway. Sorry. I am a nerd.

Hi, Hekarro; I--

Wait. Wut.

So from being thrown into a fighting pit by the Carja, I have to protect one? Hoboy.

And you want me to play diplomat? Look, I remember Tekotteh was an asshole at your Embassy thing; why are you expecting me to--?

Look, all I want is to dig around your basement; that stuff's worth nothing to you but could help me save the world so-- waitWUT.

You ... know what's down there?

You ... don't know exactly what's down there. But at least you used what little you did see to some good use. Knowing how to fight machines is important, at least until we get HAEPHESTUS under control. So I do all this and you let me look in your basement?

...Okay, fine. I will meet your Kotallo. I will just pick up some campfires on the way--

Oh. Hi, Vetteh. You are currently on the receiving end of a Rollerback pummelling. Gotcha, fam. POONK.

Aaaand your friend Littay is in equal trouble. Off I go.

If you ran into Thunderjaw territory, lady--

Oh. No, okay. Just ... over to there somewhere. Let's go--

Spikesnouts, Burrowers, and an Apex Clawstrider. Lady, you did get yourself into a mess. Lemme see what I can do. POONK. POONK. POONK.

Okay. I have saved you and hopefully you've still got salvage worth the name. I gotta go yell at some Sky Clan, okay?

(Why can't I give these people some of my meat and plants? I am swimming in edible things! Why can't I give them to hungry people?!?)

Right. I think that's about enough of that for one day. Tomorrow, I will finish the quest for AETHER. Promise.

Honestly, I'm hoping I can go to sleep. But some of the downstairs neighbours are watching what I presume are sports of some kind because the cheering has been ... very, very loud. Ugh.

[idyllcys]

super long soo readmore!

"If you're looking for a first aid—" "Sorry, princess." He hums, leaning on the doorframe. "Came to collect something of mine you have." You raise a brow at him. "What?" "Robin's diary?" You nod slowly. "Got it. That's in…" You blink slowly. "Can't I just drop it off at your place in the morning?" "If you drop it off at the mansion, then one of the other three are going to see." You groan. "I don't even remember where it is… and I am NOT digging through my mess for you." "Not even for me, princess?" "Not even if the Bat himself showed up." You grumble. "Fix my window in the morning." "I'll come with the fixing services. Give my diary back then." You wave him off, nodding with a grumble. "Tomorrow." Easy, right? Wrong. Life is never that easy. You groan as you stare at the ruined window, sighing. "Diary." Jason holds his hand out. You hand it to him, grimacing at the damage done. "I'm at the point where I'm going to ask Bruce to buy me a new apartment." "It was quite the crash." "I'm like… a main character." Your lip quirks up in amusement. "Next thing you know, I get swept into the villain's arms like some damsel in distress." "In front of your soulmate?" "A man who does not do soulmates." You mumble, watching as the glass shards are all vacuumed out of the ground. "How long will it take?" "Around three days." The worker nods. "Alright." You sigh. "How do I stop you all from robbing me?" "Two diamonds." He grins at you cheekily. "Don't say that shit when my dad paid you guys well over your usual rate." Jason glares. You laugh. "I have nothing to steal." Jason frowns, looking around your place. "You live here? With a salary that grand?" "I'd rather not live somewhere where Two face could be my neighbor." "he lives in a mansion." "My point still stands."

The original dynamic between Jason n reader was a LOT more lighthearted than the final

Jason shows up at your apartment at the crack of midnight, apologizing as he's feverish and sweaty all over, and you blink slowly. He rests his head on your collar, heart racing in his ears as he tries to catch his breath. "Distance?" "Yeah." He winces. "My fault, sorry. My body did this relatively frequently when I was younger and sleeping it off worked, but I was not expecting it to act up this fast when I saw you." "I have a couch." You offer. "Not the bed, though, as much as we are soulmates." "Can I take the ground in your room?" "No." You deadpan. "Safety."

In an earlier version of the fic, the soulmate thing was more of a "must be close at all times" rather than the final of shared bruises

"Thank you." Dick nods. "Want anything?" "Twenty million dollars so I can retire." You roll your eyes. "Maybe not to crash my place next time." "We pay your rent." "Boo." You frown. "You only pay it when you crash that month." "Which is every month." Robin lands on the window. "Come on. Batmobile's downstairs." "Will do." You grimace. "If I get kidnapped for ransom, I'm just going to tell them to phone B for ransom money." "Will do."

Original interaction between Dick n reader when he crashes

easter lillies

word count: 2.6k

summary: you thought he wasn't too big on the soulmate thing.

"OW," You hiss as you jolt awake, a sting in your ribs. A flurry of flowers blooms where your soulmate's wound was, making you grimace as you look in your mirror. It's the fifth bruise this week. It really makes you wonder what kind of nonsense your soulmate was up to. It was almost as if they were one of those vigilantes your friends were screaming over. To be fair, you like them too, and he was technically one before.

You like them a normal amount... whatever the hell that means.

You pop a painkiller as you go back to sleep, the rest of your night going undisturbed.

You wake up with seven more flowers sewn across your upper back. But you've grown used to it,  the flowers all treated as some tattoo on your skin, your skin showing where it needs to be, hidden where you don't want it shown. You would prefer that your soulmate didn't have bruises all over his skin, but it made him easier to identify. Well, it made you easier to identify. The flowers all over your skin are more eye-catching than any clothes you wear.

The flowers have been a part of you for as long as you can remember.

At seven, you shrieked when you woke up with flowers all over your legs and skin, sobbing as your parents tried explaining that it was just marks from your soulmate's skin and not some magical demon who had tattooed flowers all over your body.

Somewhere on your soulmate, they have a red flower on their ring finger, a mole you grew up with.

"Iced latte with oat milk!" 

You reach for the cup, pressing the cup to your lips as you head off.

You hiss as a flower blooms on your finger. Seriously? A papercut?

You grimace, exhaling slowly as you press the coffee back to your lips, agitated.

Truth was, you knew who your soulmate was. He was a dead man. Your mother brought home a photo of a young boy around your age, Bruce Wayne's second son, an autopsy done on his body, scars matching your flowers, and you begged her to see him. His funeral wasn't open to the public, but you had shown them the flowers all over your body and how you heard his body was wounded beyond repair, and then finally the autopsy scar you had on your own body, and they let you in. You didn't feel sad that he died. You didn't know him.

but you mourned over what the two of you could have been.

just.

a little.

You didn't ask for anything from Bruce, just a couple of moments to stare at him through the open coffin, checking his ring finger for your red flower, expression falling when you remembered how many flowers were scattered across your body. His name was Jason— Bruce told you. He liked reading books and talking to his teachers, he liked tinkering with cars and his older brother. You were told everything about the boy, his diary given to you as a memorial. 

"Jason would have wanted you to have this." Bruce had said.

You doubt Bruce would have given it to you had he known Jason was documenting all of his adventures as Robin in it. You didn't tell Bruce, you didn't tell your parents, you didn't tell anyone. The boy was dead and you knew it.

At seventeen on a random morning, a new flower bloomed around your ankle. A green one on your heart, and a blue one on your ankle.

You would have passed it off as an error in the universe had you not been screaming in pain when the green one bloomed. You were rushed to the hospital and sedated in tears, the burn too much for you. When you woke up, a blue one on your ankle had formed too, and you were told that your soulmate must be alive. Whether it be from this universe or another, your soulmate was back.

It made you sick to no end. 

That meant that Jason, that poor boy, was resurrected like some science experiment.

Nowadays, you spend your time sorting through papers in Bruce's company, drinking expensive coffee, working a job that you got through connections. Bruce had given it to you without second thought. No one likes sorting through legal documents and risking getting fired because of a single mistake without some sort of insurance. You just wanted a house to live in. You get bored these days. Sometimes when you see a worker's soulmate visit them, you wonder what it would be like if Jason were still alive.

Well, alive legally.

It's kind of hard to find a man that's legally dead but technically alive.

Bruce hasn't told you shit either, and according to Jason's diary... he probably wouldn't tell you anything unless you dragged yourself down to the Batcave yourself. 

and that? you don't plan on.

You settle with working on papers until it's 5, pausing when you notice something that definitely did not belong with the rest of the pile. You don't want to know what the paper was doing in a pile of business documents, but it's not your problem. You should probably get them to Bruce.

You find the rest of the document in the pile and mumble to yourself, dialing the home phone.

"Hello?"

"Alfred." You exhale in relief. "Bruce left um... papers in the office that don't belong here and I don't think they can be shredded... could I send it to the mansion right now?"

"Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"Oh, no. I'll head home after, but I appreciate the thought." You smile. "I'll head over right now."

"I shall bring you some cookies, then."

"Oh... I won't say no to that." You laugh. "See you in twenty."

In retrospect, showing up to Wayne Manor right before sunset was probably not the smartest thing you've ever done, but it isn't exactly the worst thing you've done either. You ring the doorbell and blink in surprise at the sight of... who is this?

"You are?"

"I'm here to hand Alfred some personal files that Bruce got mixed up into the business ones." You tilt your head. "You are?"

"Just call me Jay." He nods. "Alfred's in the kitchen. Should I take you there?"

"Please do." You nod. 

"So who are you?"

"Um, I sort through files in the office. Are you one of Bruce's kids?"

"You're really close with the old man, huh?"

"Not really." You mumble. "You use the connections you have in life when you get lazy."

"Why not just have him fund you?"

"I'm not holding his dead son over his head for something like that." You grumble. "How are you related to him?"

The man's lip quirks up in amusement. "I'm one of his dead sons."

"One? He has more than one dead son?"

He shrugs. "Alfred. The little aide is here."

"My apologies for not greeting you at the door. I shall take the papers from you." He nods. "Here are your cookies."

"Thank you, Alfred." You smile. 

"Master Jason, could you take them back?"

You freeze, staring up at him. "You're Jason?"

"In the flesh." He smiles. "Nice meeting you, soulmate."

You blink at him slowly. "Wow, for a zombie, you look real good."

"Thank you."

"If someone sleeps with you, does that make it necrophilia?"

"I wouldn't go that far, doll." Jason raises a brow at you.

You shrug. "Thank you, Alfred. I'll get going now."

"Will we see you around?"

"Not unless Bruce gets his papers messed up again."

Jason sends you out, but neither of you really talk to each other. He doesn't ask, so you don't give. Besides, it's not as if you could date someone... dead, or something. You're not quite sure what to make of Jason. Well, not like you had to live with him. If your soulmate died once, you're sure you can live another day without seeing him.

Except he can't.

You wake up at 2 with a giant flower in your stomach area, and you shove a painkiller down your throat, heaving as you down as much water as possible to try and speed up the pill's effect, your head spinning. Jason probably got stabbed or something. You don't want to know, but you find that you don't have much of a choice when Dick shows up at your door with Jason in his arms, and you grimace. 

"Sorry for abusing your care, but—"

"If I had a dime for each time I've had to wrap up a bleeding man, I'd be as rich as B." You grumble. "What is it this time? Does he need stitches? Is the mansion too far?"

"Too far."

"I'm fine." Jason coughs. "I can make it back."

"Yeah, with a wound like that? I think the fuck not." You wince as you peel his jacket off, revealing a large gash. "I thought you wore armor?"

"Stabbed through. Human inventions do nothing against foreign forces." Dick mumbles, finding your kit.

You catch as Dick tosses you the first aid kit. "You're paying rent for me this month." You deadpan, resting Jason on your knees as you sterilize a needle. "Any pieces inside the wound?"

"Nothing."

"Scream if you need to." You start on the wound, making haste as Jason throws his head back, gasping as you pierce through his skin to sew it back together. The feeling has long been normalized in your skin as you finish and tie the thread. You wrap the wound, helping Jason sit up when you're done. You look up at Dick, and he sighs.

"We'll cover costs for this month."

"Thank you." You get up. "Anything else?"

"B said you can skip work for the rest of the week." He pauses. 

Right. It's not like B would tell it to your face, but his kids were not slick when it came to crashing your place to get wounds fixed up. You don't know how the word got to them that you had taken a mock-surgery class in high school, but they did not spare you when it came to wound dressing. You don't even know how Robin had managed to find your address when you moved out. Sure, Dick was older than Jason and probably found out somehow, but Robin? Seriously?

"Alright. Now get out."

"What would your coworkers think if they saw you like this?"

"Um... I don't care." You smile. "out."

"Jaybird, aren't you glad your soulmate knows how to close wounds?" Dick sighs. "We're crashing the couch."

"Then don't be loud." You give him a thumbs up. "I'm sleeping. The wound hurts."

"Will do." He nods.

You lock your door as you go back to bed, turning off your alarms as your back hits the mattress, knocking out. 

The sun hits your eyes in the morning when you wake, and the smell of butter flutters through the room as you sit up, slightly confused before remembering Dick brought Jason to your apartment last night. You appreciate that they at least get rid of the suits before knocking on your door. Besides, you think Dick only brought Jason to you and not a safehouse was because you're his soulmate. Soulmates be dammed, you want at least one week where you aren't patching up someone from the Waynes unmasked.

"Good morning." You mumble.

"Morning." Jason nods. "I made breakfast as a thank you."

"Thank you." You mumble. "You'll need a couple of days with a wound like that."

"Did it hurt?"

You raise a brow at him, pressing your mug to your lips.

"What?"

"The wound."

"No. It didn't." You deadpan. "No shit, of course it did."

"I saw... painkillers scattered across the apartment."

"Yeah." You answer him as if it's the most normal thing in the world. It isn't. It's not supposed to be. Jason knows that much. It's not. You know it too. No average person has painkillers scattered across the apartment like decoration. "Why?"

"Is it because I get injured so much?"

You snort.

"No. It's obviously because I got beat to death by a crowbar and had to get sent to the hospital because I didn't die from it, I only felt every single wound inflicted on my body and had to live with it since I'm immortal and all." You roll your eyes. "Oh, not to mention that I frequent the hospital so much that the workers there all know me by name. Oh, don't even get me started on how the pharmacists don't even need me to hand them a prescription anymore. And!!! I'm not even going to think about the fact that almost every inch of my body has been covered in flowers at some point. Though, the autopsy pattern is a great conversation starter at raves." You trail off.

Jason's eyes trail down to your stomach peeking through your shirt.

The guilt. The guilt eats him alive.

"Can we start over?" He blinks slowly. "I... I'm sorry."

"If you're really sorry, you can pull out of the vigilante business." You shrug. "I don't want a sorry. I want less tattoos and less painkillers consumed."

"You seem used to this."

"I woke up with twelve flowers across my back when I turned seven." You pause. "since then, it's been normal to wake up with a couple of new ones... save for the years you were dead."

"Ah." Jason blinks slowly. "I'm sorry. I can't stop."

"I know." You mumble. "Just... stay safe."

"I'll keep that in mind."

But it bites you in the ass as more flowers bloom across your skin, even if they're no longer painful. Small bruises, doses of pain that you've grown used to, doses of pain that no longer affect how your day goes, doses of pain that no longer matter to you. You appreciate that he isn't breaking bones anymore. You sleep through the night much more these days. 

But you don't see Jason.

You wonder...

nope. not possible.

WRONG!

You tilt your head as Dick smiles sheepishly at your door again. This time, he's the one bleeding.

"Sorry, too far away from the mansion, and Dickhead insisted on visiting." Jason explains. "He's not dying. He just needs some ice."

"You'd think he's impossible to be harmed, huh?" You let the two in. "So? Are you leaving by car?"

"We'll figure it out." 

You lay Dick on the couch as you wince at the bruises on his body. "You must really hate your soulmate."

"She hates me too. We're even." Dick smiles.

"I don't doubt that." You mumble. "Seriously." You dress his wound, sighing. 

There's an elephant in the room. Now you forgot whether or not Dick knows you know he's Nightwing.

Maybe he does..? You don't remember, and you're too tired to ask.

"I'm kicking you out after this."

"You let us stay when Jaybird was hurt but not when I am?" Dick gasps in faux offense.

"You're not my soulmate. Shoo."

Dick sighs dramatically as Jason takes him out, and you toss Jason your car keys.

"Drive him back."

"Will do. I'll get it back to you tomorrow."

"Take your time. I don't need to get anywhere anyway."

Jason is... strange. You're not used to his presence around you. 

He drops by your place with every single excuse in the book— he's got a bruise, he's out of eggs, he's hungry, he got a free drink from the store and thought of you. You don't know. Quite frankly, the fact that Jason dropped by so often was concerning. What the hell was he even doing? You thought he didn't like soulmates.

"I brought—"

"I set the table already." You sigh, letting him in. "I thought you didn't like soulmates?"

"It may have..." Jason goes quiet, last word coming out as incoherent mumble.

"Hm?"

"May have grown on me." He whispers. 

You blink at him slowly, eyes wide as you stop to stare at him.

"What."

"The whole... soulmates thing." He swallows, suddenly feeling shy. "Grew on me."

Your cheeks grow warm as you stare at him with wide eyes, heart racing in your chest. "It grew on you?"

"It grew on me."

"Yeah?"

Jason smiles. "So I'd like to..."

"Better be worth it, corpse boy."

"I promise." Jason whispers. "I promise."

[oraclekleo]

I want to preface this message by saying that I accidentally sent this WHOLE THING to ANOTHER READER I DON’T EVEN FOLLOW and now I’m mortified 💀 For some reason I thought of taking a screenshot of what I wrote and I’m extremely grateful to past me bc I would’ve thrown myself out of the window if I had to type it again 🌚

…

Ok Kleo, it's finally time for the compatibility game feedback I'm so sorry for taking so long 😭 you posted it right before uni started and then I got sucked down the school and work waterslide and kinda procrastinated it🥺

As I told you the other day, when you posted about not getting a lot of feedback and reblogs, I feel kinda "morally ambiguous" about mature-themed celebrity content, just because I think I'd feel weird if I found random sexual content about me online, posted publicly (especially if it was very different from who I really am), but I don't want to be a hypocrite because I did ask you for this reading myself 😬

So... All in all, I think you're quite respectful with the way you conduct and write your readings. I get a more "for research purposes" vibe from them, as opposed to what I've seen in other blogs I've come across, that are outright objectifying and disrespectful in my opinion. So I guess I do feel comfortable with your content? This is just me trying to take a moral stance, so l'm not trying to "give my approval" or anything. I'm just a person who thinks things through a lot Imao

Now about the reading itself...

Right off the bat you had me laughing because what do you mean you "didn't intend for the reading to be very 18+ but it turned out that way"?? 💀😭

Like was it me? Is that bad?? I'm sorry??? 🙃

The second thing that caught my eye were the cards themselves... I think I've told you before, you have so many interesting, beautiful decks and I love how they (in my opinion, at least), give the readings such a diverse, particular vibe. Is it hard to work with many different decks? Energy-wise I mean...

I think, for the most part, your reading actually resonated? (Is it weird to say it resonates if it's a hypothetical reading about my interactions with a person I don't know personally? 😂)

I remember reading a while ago that Yeonjun could be an Aries rising, so if I compare what you said with the Astro synastry between us, it does totally check out! And our charts would be super similar too, since l'm also a Virgo sun with Aries rising

Power couple? My Jupiter would be on his MC, and his Jupiter on my 2H. We both have libra mercuries and our Vertex are conjunct, so... I smell ✨success✨

Deep soul exploration? Based on my only, but tee long relationship, I know I crave that deep emotional intimacy, getting to know each other's darkest bits and learning to love them, and all that dramatic shit Imao. He has a Scorpio moon that would be in my 8H, his Chiron conjunct my Pluto in his 8H and our suns are conjunct too, so yeah I could see the vision.

Do I see him being devoted and submissive? Yes, but personally I think it would be more of an "equivalent exchange" in this personal dynamic, where we'd both be equally devoted and submissive to each other. I see him listening to me a lot, because I'm on the mature, rational side and he gives me "mommy issues” vibes, but I'd honestly wear myself to the bone to make my loved ones happy, so there's that lol

Astrologically speaking, I have my moon, Venus and mars in Leo 5H, and he has Leo Venus 5H too so that would "confirm" the love language and relationship dynamics, but also hints to a lot of attraction, which relates to the sexual chemistry bit of your reading.

I can say you nailed the neck and voice thing for sure, at least on my side... My neck is definitely one of my weak spots, and I like guys being "vocal" so much you can't imagine 😩 12/10 for sure

Also foreplay is key for me, so much that I can't even think of it as "fore"play, it's an essential part of the whole thing, not just the appetizer..

Now, as of now I can't really see myself being dominant enough to enjoy restraining a guy per se, but l'lI like it if I know he likes it, and even more if i know he'll "get back" to me later lol like that would be the end goal maybe?

To summarize, it was very interesting to read, like I'm amazed at how you can get information like that from the cards! And it was damn accurate too.

Again, sorry for taking so long but you've probably realized by now that I tend to write A LOT so sometimes I feel overwhelmed when thinking of writing feedback because I know it will take me a while to write the whole thing

(Also if you think it's just TOO long please tell me so I can try to make it shorter next time 😂)

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR DOING THIS READING FOR ME (and all the other reading as well)… You’re really talented, and definitely have a gift for tarot 🥹

Bye!🥰

Hello!

Don't worry at all. As I said, I don't care about time, I'm always happy to receive feedback. 💖💖💖

Honestly, I don't understand the fuss with NSFW tarot readings. Do people have the same issues with smut fics? Because it's basically the same. Only in tarot readings you base your fantasy on what you interpret from the cards but it's still a work of fiction. Tarot isn't a science. What's written in tarot readings aren't objective facts, they are notions, impressions and interpretations.

Also, I do these readings about celebrities because they have public status. When you become a celebrity you deliberately give a large portion of your privacy up. Not all of it, but much more than a regular non-celeb person. This is not violating their privacy. Fanfics also don't violate their privacy. These are merely fantasies shared. If you are dellusional and want to take these works of fiction as a fact, you will do so no matter whether it's NSFW or not and it's harmful and the only solution is to educate the delusional person not to censor free speech and creative content.

I know it's difficule to take moral stand here but this is how I see it and people are free to disagree with me and even unfollow me if they wish so.

But to like and read a NSFW content but be ashamed for liking it is a road to hell. And it's weak and pretentious. I know it might sound unfair but a mentally healthy and mature person does not feel ashamed for what they like as long as it doesn't break the law. That's my personal opinion here and it might be a bit too strong for more sensitive individuals but once they grow up they will learn. 😊

As for your actual feedback, I'm not big on astrology so... I assume you studied it well and I take your word for it 😂

I like to use very diverse decks of cards because human nature is very diverse, too. Most people aren't just one dimensional characters. It's not difficult for me to read the different energy of the cards as I have picked them myself, I had a reason to do so, I followed my intuition. I have a connection with my decks and I acknowledge and cherish the fact that each one of them has a different 'personality'.

I have mentioned it before that even when it does sound like it resonates, the tarot readings are basically works of fiction as they are not based in research or hard facts but they are based in personal interpretations of symbolics. I think it's the basic mistake many people make, that they take tarot readings as facts. It's not like that. But people tend to follow patterns and if I hit the right pattern in the reading it will sound to you like it resonates with you. Tarot is NOT magic. My intuition picks information about you from your feedbacks and other interactions with me and the cards only help me to give sense to all those random pieces of information in my brain. It's not witchcraft, it's psychoanalysis. I understand why many people get confused here, though 😂

Once again, no need to apologize, I understand that life gets in the way and everyone needs time to think things through, especially to respond in such a detail 😀

I love your long feedbacks. You don't have to cut them short for me. 😂

Thank you so much for taking time to give your opinion on the reading! It means a lot to me 💖💖💖💖

Kleo 🦄

[merrock]

Hi! I've had bad experiences in past groups about bubble rp and being excluded despite efforts to reach out and plot so I was wondering if this group was easy to join even after you have opened? Do you guys have any measures or rules against bubble rp or to encourage plotting? Thank you for your help!

Hi there, anon!

I'm sorry to hear that you have had bad experiences in other groups, but I hope that if you decide to join us, you can come in with an open mind and a fresh start and find yourself enjoying it!

I personally think that our writers are good about replying to open starters, replying to messages when people reach out, making sure to welcome people in the OOC, all of that. As an admin, I'm probably actually annoying with how much I remind people of the importance of replying to open starters, rather than letting people (new or old) feel ignored on dash.

My biggest piece of advice is just to join and make an effort. Understand that every wanted connection you have might not be filled right off the bat, and the perfect plot might not fall into your lap -- but you might also end up developing something naturally with chemistry just by interacting with others that surpasses what you've been looking for, or end up with a bunch of friends you really weren't expecting, both IC and OOC. In my experience, those who join and expect everyone to come to them and fill everything for them without putting effort into activity and interacting and meeting others half way don't tend to have the same good experience as those who jump in and go with the flow.

We, like every group, don't condone bubble roleplaying. When I do activity checks, if I ever run into an issue where I see that for a week straight someone has only replied to the same person, I will absolutely do something about that -- but I also am pretty happy to say that it doesn't really happen, to be honest? And if we do notice that people are getting a little picky with who they are and are not replying to, we normally say something publicly, give everyone the same chance to fix any issues, and then will see if we need to speak to them privately -- but again, I don't believe I've had to do too much of that, either!

Merrock has quite a few events -- at least one per month, if not more -- and lots of plot drops and fun things that make it pretty easy to interact and plot, which I think can help avoid that bubble roleplaying or clique behavior, since people will throw together two completely random characters and see what sticks, and it ends up being fun!

Overall, my biggest piece of advice is to simply join us and see! We have been open for a while, and I know that can be intimidating -- but it also means that there's something that keeps people here and having fun, right? xx

[dyk3medown]

hey lovely! I have a robin request haha 😄

I'm thinking maybe reader is a cheerleader and kind of popular but she's not the mean type and is more of a nice go everyone type? and reader has been pulled into the upside down stuff and robin confesses to liking reader when they're alone due to being stressed about reader possibly getting hurt?

I'm sorry for how frantic and messy this request is I for some reason can't word things well at the moment 😅.

<3 thanks love!!

Confessions

robin buckley x reader

summary: robin ends up in the upside down with the cheerleader she's been pining over for years

warnings: fem!reader, some allusions to period-typical homophobia, there’s a small injury, gals being gay

a/n: i may have been a bit too confident in my abilities when I was asking for request considering nowadays my writing experience is almost exclusively academic papers but here we go anyway! i really hope you enjoy this <3

edit: i just realized this is my first ever real fic so go me!! let’s go lesbians!!

Robin Buckley was obsessed with Y/N L/N. From the moment you walked through the gym’s double doors to come practice the big routine with the band, she couldn’t take her eyes off you. In all honesty, she was kind of in love.

It would’ve been a lot easier for her to deal with her feelings if you had done what she assumed you would do, which was ignore her. To her dismay, Robin quickly discovered that you intended to do nothing of the sort.

Unlike most of the other cheerleaders, you actually interacted with the band at joint practices, occasionally wandering over to the bleachers and striking up conversations when you had a break. You took the time to learn everyone’s names and seemed genuinely interested in what people had to say, even when it involved musical terminology that you were clueless about.

It seemed like something out of some cheesy movie. The band kid falling for the cheerleader? Aisle 7-b of Family Video had at least three films with the exact same plot.

As much as Robin might have wished it so, in real life, cliches like that just didn’t happen, especially if the lead roles were both girls. Looking back, maybe it wasn’t too unrealistic, considering the horror movie you had found yourselves trapped in.

Following a blurred and panic-filled series of events, you had managed to land yourself in what Robin called “The Upside Down.”

Almost immediately, you were swarmed by what looked like demonic bats, and one of them had managed to attach itself to your leg, leaving a wound that was steadily oozing blood.

After Robin ripped the creature off of you, the two of you managed to fight off the initial swarm before running and finding cover. Robin tried her best to give you an abridged version of everything that had happened behind the scenes in Hawkins the past few years, and, all things considered, you were taking it quite well.

Robin, on the other hand, was almost hysterical.

The two of you huddled under a large fallen tree, using a torn strip of Robin’s shirt to wrap your wound. Her hands shook as she applied the makeshift bandage, and you hissed in pain as she tied it off.

Robin winced at the sound, apologizing frantically. “(Y/N), I’m so sorry, you never should’ve been dragged into this-�� “Robin,” you started. “-It’s all my fault I c-” “Robin.” “Shit, I’m so so sorry-“ “Robin!” You reached forward and gently cupped her cheek in one hand, making her look at you.

“None of this is your fault,” you assured her, looking directly into her eyes.

She tried to speak again, but you cut her off. “Listen to me. Whatever messed up shit is happening right now, none of it is on you. Robin, you saved my life.”

You suddenly realized how close you had gotten. Your faces were only inches apart, close enough for you to count the freckles that dotted across her nose. You let your hand drop from her face, suddenly very nervous.

You normally had no problem with confidence, nervousness being a rather foreign feeling, but there was something about the girl in front of you that gave you butterflies in your stomach.

“I can’t let anything happen to you,” Robin said quietly. “You’re too important and good, and god (Y/N), I’ve liked you for so long and I know you’ll never feel the same way and I can’t believe i’m telling you this now but if we don’t make it out I just wanted you to know-”

You surged forward and pressed your lips to hers, effectively putting an end to her rambling. She remained frozen for a few seconds as if in shock before melting into it, eagerly kissing you back. You teased her bottom lip with the tip of your tongue, and she gasped, the prettiest sound you’d ever heard. You wanted more of those noises; you wanted to hear all of them, to make her whine and moan and fucking scream.

Your parents would kill you if they could see you right now, and you couldn’t imagine what your friends would think, but all that mattered in the moment was Robin.

Robin, who made sarcastic comments at practice that always managed to crack you up. Robin, who never shut up in the most endearing way. Robin, whose lips were so soft against yours.

You broke apart after a few more moments, panting, a giddy smile painting both your faces.

“I like you too, if that wasn’t obvious.” “Yeah?” Robin beamed at you. “Yeah.”

Robin snorted as the absurdity of the situation set in. “You know I always imagined our first kiss would be somewhere nicer.”

You giggled lightly. “Not exactly first date material, right?”

“I’d really like to take you out. On a date, I mean.” Robin laughed nervously. “I mean only if you want to, I understand if you don’t want to be seen with me in public or anything.”

A roar rang out in the distance, and you both jumped.

“Let’s get out of here first, and I’d love nothing more.”

[ryp3004]

the interview ended up not being as catty as it could've been since i reread the transcript and i don't think Rebecca would jeopardize any future career moves by getting herself labeled as bitchy or whatever but still! I tried!

Thank you for agreeing to this, Ms. Prince

Oh, god, no, just call me Becca, please. None of that Prince sh-t. And, of course, man, thank you for having me!

Haha, okay, Becca. So, how are you? How has Hollywood U been treating you?

I’m doing awesome! Hollywood U has been great. Ev- Almost everyone has been awesome! I’ve really made some connections there that I know are gonna last past my career.

Almost everyone?

Well, y’know how it is. Certain people decide right off the bat that they don’t like you. You deal with it everywhere you go. She shrugs.

True words. So, tell me about Clash at Sunset. I heard you had a hard beginning.

Oh, my god, yeah, don’t even get me started. Right from the start I was up sh-t’s creeks without a paddle. So, my buddy Crash Yamaguchi, he’s the stunt coordinator for Clash, he was testing out this tank we got from our VFX guy, Dean, and the brakes fail! He smashed a f-ck ton of stuff on campus.

Yes, I remember seeing that on the news.

It was a complete and total accident, just a huge disaster all around, but it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know the breaks were faulty. But, anyway, I had to go to our producer, Anders Stone, he’s actually the dad of Bianca, who plays Zola. He definitely bailed me out.

How were your interactions with Mr. Stone? He has quite the reputation.

Rebecca gives me a tight lipped smile. Let’s just say that I don’t plan on working with Mr. Stone in the future.

Any particular reason why?

She huffs a small laugh. Not if I don’t want to be sued. Sorry.

No worries. Tell me more about your leads. It was a surprise to see Lisa Valentine in something like this.

Oh, Lisa and Addison were perfect! Absolutely perfect! I couldn’t have asked for better actresses!

And Bianca Stone?

Rebecca gives me another tight lipped smile. Bianca… Bianca was… She made a good robot.

Is that a compliment?

It’s whatever she takes it to be.

Was there any friction on set? I heard that Ms. Stone was a late addition to the cast.

Nah, not really. And, yes, she was. We had to rewrite her character to be more… in line with Bianca’s skillset. It worked out for the best, though.

Moving on, is there anything about the film you’d like to change now that it’s been released?

I think that my team and I were really able to work with what we were given, and I think that the movie is the best version of it we could have made. It definitely wasn’t easy. There was, let's say, an influx of big personalities after Stone agreed to produce. That was a learning curve.

Anyone in particular?

She rolls her eyes. None that I’ll admit to.

How did you feel about winning the New Voice award at Sunset?

Oh my god, I was in disbelief. I’m still in disbelief! It’s such an honor and I’m so flattered, truly. I meant what I said in my acceptance speech, the entire thing was a team effort, and I could’ve never done it without my entourage.

Is it true you’re going to be directing Zoe Rodriguez and Chance Dunkin’s wedding ceremony?

Yep! I’m so excited! Zoe and Chance are awesome and just being around them makes a girl believe in love again! She laughs.

Well, it’s about time for us to wrap it up. For my last question, what would you say is the best part of all of this?

She thinks for a moment, tapping her finger on the chair. I’d say being surrounded by people that care about me. People that listen to me. Not just my friends, but my Professors and my colleagues. It's… refreshing.

Thank you for your time, Becca.

Oh, my god, no, thank you!

Hunt immediately buys up every copy of this article he can find (while wearing a fedora and a trench coat, the dork) for the sake of studying her responses, of course. No other reason. What are you implying?

[aurguries]

headcanons — having an affair with cho sang-woo

pairing: cho sang-woo x reader author’s note: just hear me out, having sang-woo comfort you while you’re stuck in an unhappy marriage as a trophy wife? i needed to write this. honestly, he shouldn’t even be looking so goddamn fine in the first place while doing such horrible acts. but you know what? he can betray me all he wants djhdskla warnings: age gap, cheating

The both of you come from vastly different backgrounds.

His mother is a market vendor who sells fish and you’re the daughter of an extremely wealthy businessman.

The odds of crossing each other’s path were slim, and yet, the two of you meet for the first time when he’s introduced to you by your husband, a new client of his who is eager to show off his beautiful, young wife, whom he managed to secure through an arrangement of sorts.

From it, your father benefits while you’re forced to give up on the idea of marrying someone you love. What’s worse is that you can hardly stand your husband, who seems to have only married you for your looks and name. In fact, he prefers you to be seen and not heard.

You didn’t even want to go to the dinner with him tonight, but he insisted on dragging you along. After all, what would people think?

Right off the bat, Sang-woo sizes up the situation pretty quickly.

To him, it’s obvious you despise your husband, and that you’re stuck in nothing but a loveless marriage.

A part of him feels sorry for you, but he doesn’t dwell on it, thinking he’s hardly ever going to see you after tonight. After all, your husband is his client, not you, and so it only makes sense that the person he’s going to be mostly interacting with is him.

A month passes, and Sang-woo nearly forgets about you. That is until you show up at his office with some documents in your hand. The ones your husband was supposed to deliver to him.

Apparently, he couldn’t make it today, so you stepped in to help.

Sang-woo thinks it’s a bit odd that you troubled yourself to come all the way down here when you could have easily ordered someone else to do it. He also thinks it’s strange that you’re suddenly so helpful when it comes to matters concerning your husband.

Before he can ponder more on it, you flash a captivating smile at him as you hand over the documents, and invite him to lunch.

Needless to say, he’s quite taken aback by your sudden invitation, finding himself in a bit of an awkward spot. Having lunch with a client’s wife is nothing if not unprofessional. Especially when the client himself is not present at said lunch. And yet, if he were to decline, it might upset you, and he may come across as rude.

His thoughts get interrupted the moment he hears you laugh, and it’s almost as if you’re able to tell what he’s thinking, somehow finding it amusing.

You tell him not to worry, that you only need to discuss with him an important matter concerning the business he has with your husband as a client, and that it would be better to do it over lunch.

With this assurance, he accepts, albeit cautiously.

At the start of the lunch, he’s mostly polite and professional, if not a bit cold and distant. His responses are detached and impersonal when you try and make talk with him. But you don’t seem to notice.

You tell him things with such enthusiasm that it’s almost as if you’ve been keeping them locked up for ages and that you’re finally just allowing yourself the joy of sharing.

Over the course of several dishes, you start to chip away at him and he begins to let himself relax just a little, offering you a small, real smile every now and then.

It’s enough to make you light up, and he wonders if you’ve actually forgotten who you’re talking to. He has a professional relationship with your husband, so it’s not exactly proper for you to be conversing with him like this.

The thought’s enough to remind him why he’s here having lunch with you in the first place. You have something important to tell him, a fact he seems to have forgotten while spending all this time in your presence.

He immediately wastes no time in asking you about it, and it prompts you to reveal that you’re going to be handling all your husband’s transactions with him from now on, given how busy your husband’s schedule has gotten as of late.

Of course, Sang-woo is surprised by this, and immediately voices his concern, but when he hears that your husband has already agreed to it, it incites in him a bunch of mixed feelings.

He never liked your husband, but at the same time, he prefers meeting him over seeing you more often. From this lunch alone, he knows he should be more careful when it comes to you. You’ve proven yourself to be quite disarming, and he has already let his guard down a little. It makes him wonder if things might get out of hand, but for the most part, he’s confident that he won’t allow such a thing to happen.

And for the first few months, he’s actually right about himself.

You go out to lunch every now and then, and sometimes even dinner, but it always ends on a professional note.

He grows to enjoy your company, but makes sure to never overstep any boundaries.

That is until he finds you in tears at his doorstep one night.

He doesn’t even have to ask. He can tell that it has something to do with your husband, but before he can say anything, you look at him a certain way, and immediately, he knows. He knows why you’re here.

He’s not stupid, he’s figured out by now that you didn’t just come to his office that day to deliver some useless documents, nor did you ever care about your husband’s supposedly busy schedule.

Before he can change his mind, he immediately tugs your face upwards and lowers his own to meet your lips in an almost hungry kiss as the both of you stumble into the confines of his apartment.

And eventually, his bed.

Needless to say, things did get out of hand.

He shouldn’t be sleeping with his client’s wife, especially not when you’re someone so much younger than him, but somehow, he can’t bring himself to stop.

On weekdays, he often finds himself lighting cigarettes in cheap motel rooms with your bare form lazing by his side. And on weekends, you’re back in his bed, where he makes up for your husband’s failures.

In the aftermath, you’d tell him of your hopes and dreams with an almost childlike innocence that makes him remember just how sheltered you actually are in comparison to him.

All he’s ever known is hardship, and the thought of you ever having to go through that makes him want to pull you into his arms and tell you that no matter what happens, he’ll always be there for you, even if your husband won’t be.

Over time, he eventually allows himself to open up to you. He tells you of his childhood back in the small neighbourhood he grew up in, of his mother and the small shop she runs.

But the stories you seem to enjoy most are the ones about the games he used to play with the kids from around there.

Sang-woo was surprised to find out you didn’t know most of them, and the ones you did know, you had more or less forgotten, since you weren’t allowed to play them very often.

So he tries his best to describe them to you, and each time he attempts to do so, you always listen with rapt attention, elbows balanced on a pillow with your face cupped in your hands as you focus on him.

Whenever you look at him that way, there’s always a tug at his heart that makes him think of how much he actually cares for you, and that he might even love you.

It’s a fact that becomes especially obvious the longer you’re together.

Sang-woo’s not fooling himself. While you would probably leave your husband if he asked you to, he can’t bring himself to ask such a thing of you with the knowledge that he can never give you a life as comfortable as the one you’re living now, the one your husband is currently paying for. It’s also one you’ve likely been living since you were a child, given your father’s immense wealth, and to suddenly impose on you a life such as his own, it would be nothing but cruel.

So instead, he does the craziest thing he’s ever done so far and everything immediately goes wrong.

He shows up at your house one afternoon when your husband’s not in.

Seeing the colour drain from your face as he tells you what he did makes him feel like such a failure.

He was supposed to take care of you. And now he’s going to leave you alone with a man who doesn’t seem to realise just how lucky he is to be married to you.

What’s worse is that you immediately offer to pack a suitcase. You put on a brave front and tell him that you’re willing to leave with him right now and that no matter what, as long as you have each other, somehow, things will be alright.

You’re so naive.

It makes him so angry.

He wants to yell at you, try and knock some sense into you, because you must realise, the harsh truth is that he’s nothing but a penniless fugitive now, and that you of all people won’t be able to even comprehend just how difficult life would be if you were to flee with him.

But he doesn’t do that.

Instead, he takes you in his arms and tells you that he’ll be back. He holds you close to him, feels you cling on to the lapels of his crumpled suit as you start to cry.

Eventually though, it ends with him walking out your front door, and you left waiting for a man who will never show up.