#sorry is some mistakes are in here I wrote half on mobile

[feiandart]

This is something people asked me more than a couple times until now in the comments, both in the Italian version of Sugar and in the English one. I often answer this with a couple paragraphs of light explanations, but you know what? Have a seat, I'll actually talk about this in a proper way and this may be a very long ride.

I warn you: I'm writing this from my mobile in my free time. This means early in the morning or late at night after a whole day doing things. My brain is shit in those moments so you could find a lot of errors. I'm sorry if my English will be poor, I'm not really able to correct anything. (Also, I prefer to give you my honest flow without corrections. That may actually help getting the right vibe from all of this? I hope so).

But let's go to the proper answer.

I've been asked: "how much of your life do you process through words?"

There is no easy way to say this, no way to avoid being honest here. The reality is that I put all of my life into this story. There might be a lot of differences in the events, but the feelings, all the traumas I talk about, things the characters say, think or do, all of that is mine. I could literally take pieces from all the chapters and give all of them deep explanations on how those are not just mine, but me. I am between the lines, hidden inside all the metaphors, stuck under the weight of the baddest chapters, trying to breathe after writing the most emotional ones.

I know it's a fanfiction. I know the story is not perfect, that there may be holes in the plot and the characters may seem badly shaped, rough, not real. I know, I am not a professional writer, I might make mistakes. This is no excuse, mind me, but not everything in life is coherent or logical as we often see in the media. We can spend hours or a lifetime creating the perfect story with everything perfectly crafted but that doesn't make it real, because incoherence is a huge part of the human experience. And that is what I want Sugar to be: human, not perfect. Realistic when it comes to emotions and relationships, not necessarily in its plot or events. I want it to be a trip into the deep abyss of an injured mind, trying to hold on with a broken heart, not three unicorns running to Candy Mountain. I want to break you into pieces and slowly help to put everything back together.

Look guys, I get it as much as I get that is not actually a story for everyone. You open it expecting another plot and I give you a bad time instead. You think it's something about a sugar babe and his daddy and I give you traumas and none of that. You come for the smut and I put old wounds and control needs over that too, also denying it for a whole half of the story. Truth is, I am a scammer. You come for a Good Omens fanfiction and I break the characters apart, twisting them to the point they might be the same to the very core, but nothing like it on the outside. You have to dive deep to find them.

My God, what am I even doing?

They asked me, "do you choose your words with care, don't you?"

Oh, dear Lord, I am so sorry because maybe people really think I plot all the metaphors, I think properly of all the dialogues, but what if I don't? Most of the time I don't, really. I just put my hands on the keyboard and let them free to go wherever they want. I type whole pages and emerge right after without having the faintest clue of what I wrote. I need to come back multiple times to check if I got what I wanted in the correct way. Hopefully, it does almost all the time. I know where I start and I know where I want to be in the end, the middle of it is pure instinct and emotions. I know how my characters would behave and play them like a TV show in my mind, while describing scenes on the screen.

( There might be some kind of light spoilers from now on. Mind how you go! )

I know I am using Crowley as the raw essence of a damaged mind and heart. He uses crude metaphors, always talks with anger and uses blood and storms in his speech, because he is instinct, he's a tide, he's greed personified and wants everything he could get cause he truly got nothing in his life. He is the passion who can't be contained, he uses art to process his emotions, he uses music to lose himself in something familiar, hoping someone else could help him find his way back home. He uses gardening to grow things because in his life nothing seems to last long. He can't look at tomorrow without fear, but grows things he hopes will last more than him. Life was not good with him, but he wasn't good with his life either. He did nothing, letting time pass without actually building anything, living the days as they come, drowning his pain in wine or between someone else's legs. He knows most of what he is, most of what he's done, is not healthy. But he never really cared before.

And then there is Aziraphale, which apparently is a walking red flag, traumas personified on two working legs, scared of everything hiding outside his door. He got everything. He has money, a big house, books, some people working with him, and is content. So content his heart yells and cries because he's lonely. So content he can't really control his whole life because he is his own antagonist. So content he's not really scared of what hides outside the door, because what's inside is worst. He uses the softest metaphors, he uses his books to tell stories and talk about himself, he can't really speak is mind and talks, talks, talks so much! He wins arguments because he drags his opponents into exhaustion. He talks them to death, using whole paragraphs of elegant, perfectly crafted phrases and quotes he can shield himself with. He's not like Crowley, just getting started on this new channel of communication, no, Aziraphale is well trained. He has thousands of books he can use to get where he wants and still use his experience poorly because he thinks people are just like the books and guess what? That's not true. People are something else.

It's actually funny how I just condensate two parts of me into two different characters.

Crowley holds my outside, and this is why you have his POV for the entire story. You see the world with his distorted, unreliable vision, you see raw desire to be accepted, the need to be truly seen by someone, big pieces of his mind, his dissociations, his fear, his low self esteem, the thousands of radios turned on in his mind, his incapability to let things truly go, is head full of canvases he never finish. And then you see his rage and you're not sure how much that will last. Yeah, that is me. Welcome to myself.

Aziraphale holds my inside. This is why we never get his POV. Too easy, too deep, too much. He is scared. He needs control. He wants and can't get. He hopes and does nothing. He's stuck in his home, with his books, and finds himself at ease there. He thinks he's safe but he's not. He's a living contradiction and at the same time he's not.

God, what was the question again?

Maybe I wrote too much. Maybe this is not enough. All I can say is that there's something really important in this story, and that is Crowley asking Aziraphale to "look at him", 'cause all he wants is to bee seen.

But in the end, what is happening here is you looking at me. And it's strange to get so naked in front of so many strangers. But it's also good and positive to me to be seen, for once.

So, thank you. Really, thank you. 'cause with every chapter you allow me to express myself in a way I never did in 30 years. Thank you so much.

[inviouswriting]

Fallen angel.

Simeon x Fem!Reader

Smut... very smut... VERY. SMUT!

As always warnings below the cut.

Warnings/contents - Sexting, more sex, riding the angel, clothing modifications, fitting a headcanon I have about that outfit of his. blowjobs, mutual masturbations. all that good stuff.

If there was a way to describe getting an earful from three demons. You would find a word for it. Mammon grilled you feigning hurt the whole time about being ignored for three days. Lucifer only noted that your absence was noticed, and warned you about the risks of your relationship with the angel could have repercussions for him. Ones you were already told by Simeon that he had chosen his path.

Asmodeus however, when he was certain to snag you away from everyone he did. He shut and locked everyone out of his room under the guise of needing help with lotion again.

However you were sat down on his bed with a very eager lust demon wanting to know details.

"So! Tell me! How did he like that outfit? I mean you smell of him all over you." Asmodeus leans in taking your hands noticing the nail polish on your hands chipping. He sets about getting things so you can do nails together.

"He loved it. I almost couldn't walk after that day." You feel a little embarrassed talking about it, a gentle laugh from Asmodeus.

"If he loved it that much you can keep the apron." Asmodeus sits with you taking off the polish and focuses on the small talk. Each of the brothers had different places where they helped with things. Asmodeus was perfect for matters of the heart. He picks up on your eyes downcast.

"Did something happen while you were with him?" You are unsure if he was the right one to talk to about a falling angel. But Asmodeus was once an angel too.

The demon goes through his polish colors for a specific color in celestial blue. One he knows is the said angels favorite color and applies it.

"His wings.. are darkening." Asmodeus pauses the brush almost frowning. Then smiles.

"I see the process has begun already then. And you are feeling guilty?" You nod to his question almost retracting your hand but it is held firm to prevent messing up the polish.

"Don't be. If there is something I know of Simeon, it is he is always certain of what he does without a second thought to it. One of the things I admired of him is how passionate he is towards anything. You are a testament to that now." He lifts his head to meet your eyes.

"He loves you so much and it shows. The only way he will regret his choice now is if you reject him. He needs you more than ever while he is falling." Asmodeus cups your face and presses his forehead to yours in a gentle affectionate nuzzle to your face. If you hadn't fell for Simeon, Asmodeus would have been a second choice, he understands things concerning the heart better than most others.

"Does it hurt?" You ask and Asmodeus raises an eye then gets the question.

"It does, at first for the transition. It's why staying with him is important to reassure him he isn't making a mistake. But after he will feel free to do what he wants as he desires. I mean look at how free the rest of us are. He is falling for love, remind him how much you love him." Asmodeus higs you tight then presents his hands to you.

"Now, take care of my hands too? Make sure to use the rose oil and i am thinking of purple with a gradient pink to my nails think you can manage that?" You nod at his demands. Least you can do to repay his rare kind words.

When you leave Asmodeus' room you feel a little better about your mood. You return to your room and plop face first onto your bed. You put your hands to your face at remembering all the sordid deeds you did with Simeon, you notice how he seems to enjoy being in the shower. You're not too surprised with that as water with you two is intimate when he first really confessed his feelings.

You take up your DDD and look at it, seeing a message from Simeon.

"Good afternoon, I was thinking about you. I can't stop thinking about everything we did." You smile and reply to him.

"Aww, I was just thinking about you too. Sorry it took me so long to respond. Asmodeus wanted to talk and did nails. I can't stop thinking about you either." You send him a snap of the color. He sends a sticker with how much he loves the color.

"It suits you! Asmodeus did a nice job! When do you think we can spend time together again?" Simeon asks, you can almost see the pout he usually has, but you didn't have to wait to see it, he sends a shot of his expression.

"You could always come over to me you know." You point this out.

"That would mean Luke is left alone with Solomon." You laugh to yourself, you hug your device to you.

"I know, I know. One of these nights you have to come to my room though. I already miss you." You send him your own pout, and you feel devious with another thought. You get up and go lock your room to prevent anyone from randomly walking in.

You take another picture, one showing off the hickies he left on your neck. You had them hidden from Lucifer and Mammon

Asmodeus teased you when he spotted them.

"I miss you too. I want you in my arms again." The sticker sent was a sad demon. You attach the photo of yourself, blushing as you write out your next message to your angel.

"I mean, you could... come over." When you send the message, Simeon's eyes widen to you so bold. But he returns the tease with his own.

Simeon lays flat on his back, a teasing picture of his abdomen with a hand smoothing down his front. He almost feels embarrassed for such a picture. He sends it to you along with a picture of his face, eyes lowered to appear sultry.

You almost jump from both images. It taking alot longer him to take pictures let alone send them without sending to the wrong person.

The message that pops up afterwards, makes you want to go back to his room instead.

"My lamb, you are teasing me.. I could come over there... but what would the others do, you are not exactly quiet in bed." You begin tugging off the top and bra you had on. It took some angling to do this, but you managed to get a teasing shot of your arm across your chest mirroring his sultry look with your own. Fingers splayed enough that a nipple could be seen.

Simeon outwardly groans at the sight of you and not able to touch and kiss the skin exposed to him. The following image sent after has him teetering on whether he should give into his desires more.

You had shed your pants and had a hand thumbing the edge of your underwear to start tugging them down, lifted enough that he could almost see the start of your folds.

"You sure you don't want to come over.. I have to do this all alone.. without you." Simeon bites his lip as his forming erection strains in his pants. An idea gets him, and he is swift with removing his pants. The top of his outfit was one piece. He leans back against his headboard and pulls the bottom part covering his cock against his flesh the tented outline of him seen through the black. He gets this image taken before he sets about what he was about to do.

Carefully with a set of scissors, he cuts a slit along where his cock is. He sighs in relief when he tugs himself free. He notices he is already leaking precum and how much he wants you to be there to suck on him with this new secret of his.

Your message pops up and Simeon regards it with a kiss to his DDD.

"Let's have a little fun together since you can't make it over. Or I will tease you enough that you will come home with me tomorrow."

Your eyes go wide when Simeon sends you the first unaltered shot. You even lick your lips, realizing how much the black compliments his dark skin, and how pulled taut it is against him you almost underestimate just how he fits inside you with ease. But that is due to all the teasing he does. The second image makes your mouth water at the sight of his leaking dick.

"My lamb... I am already like this.. it's unfair of you to tease me so much when I can't touch you." You ache for your angel, and you show off how much. You arrange yourself to be more comfortable, kicking off your underwear and splay yourself open for Simeon. Your fingers keeping your folds apart exposing from clit to hole. You bite your lip, you want him now, underneath you even.

You take care of yourself, thinking of how Simeon has touched you, how much you miss the feel of his fingers and mouth on you. How he fits so well inside that you don't want him to pull away. The message you attach to the images. Almost strong enough to get the angel to crack and race over.

"My angel... you are making it hard to think or keep my hands from myself... I want you... here."

The images enough to send Simeon to stroke himself, pumping full from base to tip, squeezing, imagining it your warmth surrounding him. Streams of precum make his hand glide easier. He tugs the collar of his top to his mouth to muffle his moans.

The next image you send him of your fingers deep, has him fumbling his DDD for getting a shot of his slicked cock brimming almost with cum, you can make out the beads of white with clear.

A picture after shows his hand covered in cum, you keep your hand busy in the manner you enjoyed when Simeon touches you. Till you arch and feel shudders through your body.

"My lamb... would it be too late to come over? I need to feel you.. please." You smile to yourself as you think of having Simeon in your bed.

"Of course.. I can't wait for you. Please wear that current top of yours. I like it and I want to have some fun with you in it." You agree to him coming over. And set about getting ready for your lover.

Simeon cleans himself off to the best of his ability, still aching to be within you. He makes an excuse after Luke has gone to bed, Solomon knows what is up. He shoos him off assuring Luke will be fine.

When Simeon arrives at the House of Lamentations; Asmodeus let's him in and guides him up without getting caught or talked his ear off by any of the brothers. You had finished with a bath and wrapped in a towel giving a startled yelp at the sound of the door being knocked on.

You quickly open it ready to tell Mammon to knock it off, he had been by your room ten times for odd conversations. Instead of Mammon you see your angel.

"Simeon!" You practically jump into his arms and he guides you back into the room closing the door with his foot and reaching a hand behind to lock it. You dangle in his hold, letting him hold you up to kiss him repeatedly. You intake the gentle scent he has, noting a vanilla smell to him almost, probably from the baking he does.

The kisses you share with the angel are needy. You tilt your head back as Simeon tilts down to seal the kiss better. You can feel him press against your thigh. You shift to grind your hips against his earning a heated sigh. Simeon walks you both to your bed and lays you on your back. You feel his hands make work of your towel pulling it off. He had to feel your skin under his palms.

You smooth your hands down his front as he crawls over you. You slip a hand beneath the hem of his pants, encountering his cock through the fabric of his top. You feel for the slit that was made earlier when he sent you that sinful picture. You find it and tug it up to guide his erection through it. You begin to pump him feeling him throb in your hand. You are eager as much as he is, you glance up to his face, and see his eyes closed as you play with just the tip, thumb rubbing around the slit.

Simeon is lost in this pleasure and gently bucks his hips to your hand as you stroke him. His hands move to his pants and begins to shove them down. A quick kick of them off the bed and you see first hand the hole, just how hard he is, and you smear precum across the tip much like how you saw his cock all covered in it earlier.

“Lay down, Simeon. I’ll take care of you tonight.” You purr audibly to him, he agrees and you help him lie down on his back. You didn’t want to waste a whole lot more time since your home in Devildom happens to be full of curious demons.

You move down to press your mouth to his tip in a swift kiss, then take it into your mouth. You give him quick sucks, hearing his soft moans under his breath. Simeon feels like he is on fire, a pleasant fire. He watches you please him, you feel him twitch in your mouth from his enjoying your tongue sweeping along just below the slit of his tip.

When you had enough you give his cock one more kiss and sit upright. Simeon begins to raise up to have you lie under him, but you shove him back down gently, a shy smile on your face. The falling angel looks up at you as you move to straddle his waist.

“I did say I’d take care of you, my angel.” Simeon raises a hand to his face and looks away shy.

“Of course. Please... I need you.” You hear the plea in his voice, and move to grind your hips again with his. Simeon feels a hand guide his cock along your folds, and there you roll your hips down avoiding him pushing inside you, listening to a frustrated sigh. You push yourself in a way that he glides through your folds. He gets the idea and moves with you, Simeon looks up at you as you rest your hands on the flat of his abdomen. 

“A little more like this..” You ask him to be patient with what you are doing. You needed to feel him like this, even as you feel him almost pushed inside. You raise your hips and move back. Biting your bottom lip you push down this time onto his cock, you both sigh together in unison you at the feel of him hot and thick inside, while he feels slick and pleasant tightness around him. 

Simeon rests his hands on your waist as you begin the slow movements of rolling yourself down to his hips. You are met with him pushing up against you meeting your movements with his own. Your hands grip the black top he has, you remember you are having sex through that slit he made. The thoughts encourage you to get wilder with Simeon. You raise higher and push down, your angel meets your pace going as fast as you let him and hard as you are shoving down. 

Your nails dig into his abdomen you feel the muscle beneath your hands as you meet thrust for thrust. Simeon feels you tighten on him from time to time as you get closer to your orgasm. Simeon’s hands grip your waist tighter, helping you grind when he wants you to, and thrusts up when he needs to feel you slide along him.

“My lamb... I’m getting closer.. do you want me inside still?” His words echo in your mind, the haze there, but you felt something in you that wants him to keep filling you. Like you’d be incomplete without him. You push down harder onto him.

“Please inside..” You blush saying it, and Simeon raises a hand to your face to get you to look at him. He takes up one of your hands and laces your fingers together. 

“Okay, makes me happy you want that possibility.” Your soul ached with how sweet he is while in the middle of you on top of him. Simeon grips your hand tighter in his, and now your own movements are jerky, you bite back a loud cry, not wanting to scream or moan too loudly to draw the attention of the demons in the house. 

Simeon moves his hands to guide you down on him, moving as hard and keeping you close. He felt hotter, almost painful but pleasurable at the same time. One hard thrust inside and you still as you clamp down around him, Simeon thrusts through your orgasm till he has his. 

Your face burns a bit more after he cums, you see his face lit with absolute pleasure. He looks at you with such a gentle look to his eyes that you feel even more guilty for his falling. You don’t let it show in your face, instead you lay on top of him, still letting him stay within you. You feel like when you two first were intimate together. How gentle and sweet he was, still is. You feel a hand rub circles on the small of your back.

Something about having sex with him this round felt just so much more intimate. Like being so sure of your next step.

“Simeon...” You feel a kiss to the top of your head, and he shifts to lay you next to him, pulling from you. Staying awake to listen to you.

“Yes? My sweet lamb?” Simeon rubs his face to your head nuzzling his cheek against your hair.

“I love you.” You feel his smile against the crown of your head and a kiss with it. 

“I love you too.” You trace lazy patterns on his chest tugging and snapping the fabric of his top.

“It is possible to have a child right? Are you afraid of a possible nephilim?” You feel hands cup under your face to get you to look to his face. Locking your eyes with deep blue ones. You smooth your hands on his chest taking in the black of the fabric and the brown of his skin.

“I don’t have fears. It’s possible, and I hope we’re fortunate with one... or maybe a few.” You shrink down at the idea of many. 

“There is no turning back you know. You can still. ah! Ow!” Simeon pinches your face again for mentioning his falling. Making good on his promise to pinch again if you bring it up in a negative way.

“I don’t plan to turn back.” He confirms his stance, and you nod after hearing that hiss in his voice warning. You shrink down closer to him, only for Simeon to cup under your face to get you to look at him.

“You must make it up to me now. I did say not to bring that up. So... we need a punishment in place.” A teasing lilt in his voice, you keep your eyes on his playful blue eyes.

“Punishment? What sort of punishment!?” You feign hurt, and he laughs that sweet light hearted laugh.

“How about this. For every time you think and bring it up. You have to spend an entire lifetime with me. That means from here out. Anytime I catch that sad face, you apologizing for my choice, or feeling guilty over it. You will add onto how many lifetimes you spend with me. Sound fair? I can even get Diavolo or Lucifer to make it official.” He sounds so cheerful saying it, and you can’t help but smile as he tugs you closer to feel you against himself. You help him tug and pull his top off, wanting to feel skinship with him.

“I thought punishments are suppose to be something I won’t enjoy.” You remind him of what a punishment is, and he taps a finger to your lips.

“You’re right. Okay, a punishment. You have to suffer a bowl of Solomon’s cooking.” You blanch at that, shrinking down and pulling the blanket over your head. Simeon chases after you pulling it over his head and slipping down to wrap his arms around you.

“A spoonful. No? Then does a lifetime sound better?” You nod and raise your head to meet him in a nuzzle on your face, pressing cheek to cheek doing this for both sides. 

You feel him move closer and wrap his arms around you, tugging your head up so you rest it on his arm underneath you. You trace fingers over his face, touching his eyelids, his nose, tugging his bottom lip which earns his fang playfully nipping your fingers.

Simeon hides everything he feels behind a smile. The burning he feels in his back, how he seems to feel like everything is on fire in his being. Yet he is there, shoving his feelings aside, letting the fall run its course. 

He didn’t show his wings this round, you would see them turning black like Lucifer’s only with green tips at the ends. Another reason he wanted to be in your arms, was so he didn’t feel alone while it runs its course.

You smooth your hands along his back and rub gently, Simeon lets you touch, finding your hands soothing to the fire he feels. Yet at the same time he feels good, blissful in his sensations. 

“Are you in pain?” You ask, and he presses his forehead to yours again.

“Keep touching me please... your hands feel so nice. My head... rub my head?” You nod, your fingers going through his hair and massages his head. Simeon presses closer to you, and you feel him push you more onto your back. He presses kiss after kiss on your chest and on your neck. Under your palms you can feel the heat of a fever through him, you bring him up to kiss his face, showering him in love and affection.

Simeon soaks every bit up, taking your hand to kiss the palm as it passes his cheek. You don’t object to feeling him want to take you again, allowing him to press in, the lovemaking alot more tender, alot more sweeter than you two have done.  

You hear soft murmurs of adoration under his breath, how he says soft worships into your skin. The talk of a potential child already with you. Kisses over your heart as he hears it race from his thrusts. You scratch down his back when you both peak together. He has a needy look in his eyes, like he wants more, needs more of you. You allow him as much as he needs of you.

Simeon wears you out first, snickering at when you are cuddled up in his arms, and he nuzzles his face into your chest. Pressing an ear to listen to your heart beating as it calms down.

He joins you soon after, tugging you into his arms and protectively holding you so close to himself, that all you feel is a safe warmth through you.

[nocturnalazura]

There are too many, I repeat, too many scenarious with Daddy Dabi. The most simple ones. Dabi comforts his baby after a nightmare, Dabi teaches the baby a swear word, Dabi feeds the baby and ot ends up being a mess… too many damn scenarious vut I leave that to you bc you’re the mastermind🙏🏻

EVERYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP BECAUSE DABI COMFORTING HER AFTER A NIGHTMARE????? Ok anyway lets dive into these cute little scenes because I fucking can't. (Note: I have named their child Hina so for future reference on all future Daddy Dabi things she is now Hina) (also I wrote half of this on mobile so ignore any errors. I’ll fix it later)

Nightmares: It's late at night, their little apartment filled with silence until a quiet little voice cuts through the air of your bedroom.

"Daddy?" Comes a little whimper from the doorway.

It takes him a second but after another small whimper from the door he's sitting up and looking over to see a little shadow in the door way. The quiet sound of sniffling has him shooting up and moving to get to her quickly. Crouching in front of her, he doesn't even get a chance to say anything before she's launching herself into him, little body shaking as she trembles and cries, one little arm wrapped around his neck while the other holds onto her stuffed animal.

"Hina? Hey my little monster what's wrong?" He questions wrapping his arms around her.

"Daddy, monsters and noises and daddy!" Hina wails.

"Touya? What's wrong with Hina?" You mumbles sitting up to look over at their silhouettes in the doorway.

"I got her go back to sleep."

Picking her up he takes her back into her room, in the soft light of her little night light he can see all of the tears running down her face. She sniffles more and buries her face in his chest and continues to cry as he sits down on her bed.

"What happened?" He ask in the softest voice he can manage. She immediately launches into a warbled story of the nightmare she had, something about monsters and being alone somewhere no one could get to her. At the end of the story her tears start up again and she presses her face into him again sobbing. "Hina hey you're fine, I'm here, your mom's in the bedroom you're ok."

Leaning back against the wall he warms a hand and presses it against her back so she can feel the warmth through her top. It takes a little bit, rubbing small circles against her back while whispering the occasional reassurance to her before her cries finally start to stop. She sits up in his lap still clutching her little stuffie. His heart breaks a little as he looks over her tear stained face and bright blue eyes slightly swollen from sobbing.

“M sorry daddy.” Hina sniffs wiping her eyes.

“You got nothing to be sorry about. You ok?”

“Yeah.” She says rather hesitantly.

“You sure?” Finally she give a little shake of her head before falling back into his chest. “Hey, you know I’m not gonna let anything hurt you right?”

“I know.”

“You got nothing to worry about, most people are here are pretty scared of me so I’d say your safe.”

“Why are they scared of you?”

“That’s something you can find out about when your older.”

“Ok”

“Wanna try going back to sleep?” He asks rubbing her back again.

“Yeah, but can I sleep with you and mommy tonight?” She asks, bottom lip jutted out as she gives him her best puppy dog eyes.

“Fine. But only for tonight.” He sighs, standing he scoops her up before walking back to your bedroom and letting her crawl into bed first before sliding in after her. Snuggled up between the two of you she quickly falls back asleep completely unaware of you turning over to face them.

“She got you wrapped around her little finger mr.villain.” You joke quietly.

“Shut up.”

Teach that kid to talk

So Hina’s first word is either dada (because daddy’s girl) or she straight up just says a little jumbled version of fuck.

Now if her first word is dada you know damn well this man is proud as fuck. But this is his kid, she’s gotta have an edge to her. So not long after she starts saying a couple more words he sets to work. Every time you’re out leaving him alone with her, he’s got her seated on his lap as he stares at her very seriously.

“Hina come on you can say it. Say fuck.”

“Dada.” She gurgles followed by little giggles.

“Yeah I know you can say that. Come on say fuck. Say fuck for daddy.” He tried again even using a softer voice that could almost be considered baby talk. “Come on be a good little monster for daddy. Say fuck. Fu-ck.”

She just giggles and lets out happy little chirps or dada. This isn’t the end he keeps trying. He goes about this for another couple weeks. Until finally you’re happily playing with her, having a pretend conversation as she babbles nonsense and the few words she knows.

“What else can my baby say? Can she say mama?” You coax smiling at her. Dabi watches leaning on kitchen counter, picking at left overs you had saved him.

Then time stops, your cute, sweet, perfect little Angel of a daughter babbling away happily lets out a soft little “fwuck”

Your eyes widen, Dabi inhales and nearly chokes on his food and she giggles. You just stare at her trying to process if you heard her correctly. Dabi coughs loudly in the kitchen trying to clear his throat before finally bursting out in laughter. Not his normal little snort, or snicker, full on bent over can’t breathe laughter. You honestly can’t decide what’s more shocking, your baby cursing or the fact that Dabi is genuinely laughing. But that clears out quickly, as funny as it you can’t help but be a little ticked at him.

“Dabi?” You question calmly.

“Eh? What no Touya?” He says finally catching his breath.

“Fine, Touya, did you teach my baby to fucking curse!?”

Queue another little chirp of “fwuck!”

Feeding the monster.

Hina is a pretty good baby for the most part, she like many kids has her moments where she melts down but she generally good. Feeding her isn’t hard at all, at first. When it was just a bottle Dabi would usually find his spot on the couch lean against the armrest, pull his knees up some and prop her up there and hold the bottle for her. He’d adjust the way she sat as needed always making sure that she was ok. Solid food is a whole different ball game for this man.

You leave him to feed her while you take a much needed long and hot bath.

He’s got her set up in her little high chair, little bowl filled with, honestly he’s not sure what it is he wasn’t listening when you told him what it was but it smells good. Hina makes a grabby hand for the small spoon he has, frowning when he pulls it away. She lets out a dissatisfied huff of not getting her item.

“Calm it you little monster, I’m gonna give you your food.” He grunts.

She impatiently bangs her tiny fists on the tray of the chair and let out little grunts and huffs. Scooting closer to her he takes a little spoonful and over it to her. When she just stares at him he moves it closer letting it touch her lips for a moment before she finally opens to accept it. He repeats this process a few times, awkwardly moving his arm around when she tries to steal the spoon again. It’s going pretty good, she’s got some food on her face from turning her head away and smacking the spoon but not to bad.

Then she decides she’s pretty much done. Little hands grab at the spoon more insistently spilling it on the tray and at some points managing to grab it enough to have it flick food back on him when she lets go. Annoyance rolls off him in heavy waves when he makes the absolutely stupid mistake of setting the little bowl down to wipe the food off his face. The bowl immediately is knocked off the tray as she tries to grab at it but is just a little short. It falls, spills is contents on his shirt and pants as it goes tumbling to the floor leaving a little trail of food behind it.

“And we’re fucking done here.” He grumbles getting her out of the chair.

The moment he picks her up little food covered hands and her little face are are all over him. She presses her littler version of opened mouth kisses all over his cheek smearing more food on him while her little hands grab at his hair and shirt.

Stepping out of the bathroom wrapped in your robe you go to head into the bed room but stop and turn around again. Slapping a hand over your mouth you try your best to it laugh at him, standing there daughter now held away from as he grumbles at her. Both of them covered in food.

“Don’t you dare fucking laugh.” He snaps when he sees you.

“Would you like some help?”

“No id like to just stand here covered in food.”

“If you’re gonna be an ass I’m not gonna help you.” You growl pointedly, he deflated slightly as that finally pulling her back towards him as she starts to fuss. “Did she actually eat it or just cover the two of you in it?”

“She fuckin ate don’t worry not hurry up.”

[onthecrosslook]

Reverse, esreveR

Tw: S*ic*de Attempt, Dr*g Abuse

Sherlock Holmes was an arsehole. He knew that he was, he felt it- deep inside, a sort of gut emotion that clenched and twisted and made him feel all the more wretched. He really couldn’t control it at this point. It was a habit that had formed from years of keeping every awful thing that had happened to him pent up in his mind. So many years of abuse, so many bruises and scars, and so, so much hurt that left no marks on anywhere but the mind. He knew it was wrong to take it out on those he loved- and even those he didn’t- but it kept resurfacing in the forms of snide comments and manic volatility.

It started one quiet night at Baker Street. It was nothing much, a snappish comment too far, perhaps? Whatever it was, it was the last straw for a livid John Watson, who stood up and kicked over the coffee table in fury. Words bounced off of Sherlock, who heard without listening. Eyes closed, chest feeling empty, Sherlock felt John’s innate rage. Until he didn’t.

When Sherlock opened a single eye, he saw John holding a small box that had been concealed under the table. Sherlock heard a roar in his ears, he could hardly breathe, he was crushed by an overwhelming feeling of guilt- it all just hurt.

John’s steady fingers brushed over the syringe that the box contained. The flat was silent, except for the pounding of Sherlock’s heart- or was he the only one who could hear that?

Glass shattered at his feet. John was yelling, now. Sherlock was pretending to listen.

Sociopath. Liar. Machine.

John was saying those words as if they held no value to Sherlock. Of course, that had been the impression Sherlock had made, so why wouldn’t he say those things?

Sherlock was used to feeling hopeless, but this? This was it. This was all he could take and more. And worst of all? It was cowardly, and Sherlock couldn’t even have the decency to properly listen to John.

Possibly in the middle of John’s sentence, he stood up and mumbled some sort of excuse- that he had to use the loo, maybe? He wasn’t sure.

Dazed, Sherlock walked to the loo and left John alone in the living room. Thoughts were rushing through his head. He couldn’t take this. Not anymore.

He clicked the lock and slid down the door onto the cold, hard tile floor. His hands were shaking, his vision blurry with held-back tears. He didn’t want to do this. Yes, he did. No, he didn’t. Of course he did. Why wouldn’t he?

Trembling fingers pulled open the medicine cabinet. They pulled out a bottle of painkillers. They opened the cap. They poured precisely ten in Sherlock’s other hand.

Ten, because Sherlock had measured the dosage during a particularly bad night. He knew that each pill had 500mg of acetaminophen in them. Over 5000 in one go would certainly kill a man. It had to.

Shaking, crying- although he didn’t realise it, and he never would have admitted it otherwise- Sherlock popped a pill into his mouth one at a time. It was hard to swallow. His throat was rejecting it, so each pill took longer to take. He was shaking his head, not wanting to finish, but knowing he had already taken at least six.

After number ten, Sherlock broke. The tears came freely, now. He mumbled a shattered apology to his mum and dad, to Mycroft, even, and most definitely to John, whom he didn’t want to leave.

With each whispered name, Sherlock popped another pill between his lips. Now he had taken…what, fourteen? Fifteen? He didn’t really care, even though he did. A small part of him was screaming for someone to care, to stop him, to save him- but to no avail.

After a few choked-out sobs, Sherlock regained some of his composure. He wiped his eyes, which were shamefully red, and stood up. He was going to go about this bravely. The toxic shock wouldn’t kick in for at least a few hours, and by then, he would be asleep. A peaceful death. An easy one.

Sherlock unlocked the door and walked back out to the living room, where John was pacing furiously. He looked pale and frightened.

John must have asked something along the lines of “what did you take?” in a worried tone of voice, but Sherlock shook his head. He probably told him that he took nothing. John still looked concerned. He asked him again. Still, Sherlock shook his head. He felt guilty for lying to John.

John relaxed. He nodded, he sat down. He offered Sherlock dinner, but Sherlock politely refused.

Sherlock lied about something or other and said he had a stomachache, that he wanted to go to bed. John reluctantly allowed him to.

At approximately nine o’clock, Sherlock laid down in bed and wrote a short note in his pocketbook. It told whom he wanted his things left to, even though he knew it wasn’t entirely legal. He trusted Mycroft to sort all that out.

His stomach was already starting to ache. He needed to fall asleep.

And so he did, praying that he would never wake up.

Unfortunately, life was decidedly quite cruel.

By the time the clock read midnight, Sherlock realised he had made a terrible mistake. He woke up gasping for breath as his stomach burned. His face felt hot, and his head was pounding. It was as though his insides were tearing themselves apart.

Dazed, he tried to move, but instead fell out of his bed and hit the floor with a groan. Sherlock was so weak that he could not find the strength to move. He threw up, even though he didn’t want to. It meant that the drugs might not work. Mind racing, chest heaving in mild panic, Sherlock wondered if this was how he would die- suffocating on his own vomit and in horrible agony.

Spirits broken, Sherlock whispered John’s name. It hurt too much. He needed John to save him, or else he was going to die.

Sherlock kept whispering it- his lungs wouldn’t allow him to speak up. But John was already upstairs. He couldn’t hear him. Maybe Sherlock didn’t want him to.

He choked out something along the lines of “I don’t want to die”, but slowly, agonisingly, his eyes closed and he faded into unconsciousness.

You could imagine his surprise when he woke up the next morning, every inch of his body aching. His chest burned, and he kept needing to throw up every few minutes, but he was unmistakably alive.

And in some of the worst pain of his life.

He staggered to his feet and made his way to the loo. He threw up again.

For a brief moment, he felt better. He dreaded another racking dry heave that would take hold of his body.

No dice.

After typing a few things onto his laptop- perhaps updating his website with a few unintelligible entries about the side effects of acetaminophen overdose- he went back to the loo and threw up. He hadn’t eaten anything, so it was just stomach acid that burned his oesophagus and made him nauseous. The pain was growing steadily worse, and John wasn’t even awake yet.

For the next hour, Sherlock allowed the poison to simmer in his body, silently attacking his liver and slowly killing him.

John eventually woke up. Of course he did.

When he saw Sherlock’s pale face, he said nothing. When Sherlock nearly tripped down the steps in delirium, John was concerned, but said nothing.

When Sherlock’s knees buckled beneath him, he said something.

What did you take?

Sherlock slurred a half-hearted response, his head aching and his stomach twisting itself inside out. He felt like he was dying. It was probably because his organs were failing.

He clung onto the banister of the staircase as John desperately shook his shoulders. He couldn’t breathe. His brain was shutting down but his eyes and ears still worked. Everything hurt.

Sherlock saw John pull out his mobile and dial Mrs. Hudson’s number before swearing and pulling him outside.

Sherlock faded in and out of consciousness.

He was in a car.

Then a waiting room.

Then an urgent care.

Disappointed, disapproving, and endlessly pitying. Nobody would stop staring.

A nurse said he would be out of their care the same day.

His liver began to fail.

And then he was in an ambulance. He made a hazily rude comment to the EMT.

They stuck a needle in his arm. They did it wrong. It hurt like hell.

I’m clean, he wanted to tell them. Saying he didn’t do drugs anymore would be a flat-out lie.

They put him in a hospital.

His liver reached critical condition. The levels of acetaminophen in his bloodstream were lethal, yet he was somehow still alive. (It would be a case study for months and months to come.)

Sherlock was in the worst pain of his life.

They gave him morphine.

John sat by his bed during the entire ordeal.

He didn’t say a thing.

He didn’t know what to say.

Sherlock almost died.

John looked like he’d aged many years.

Sherlock felt regret.

John held his hand.

Sherlock wished he could turn back time.

John did, too.

༺═──────────────═༻

(Author’s Note: Based on a true story, sad enough to say. It’s sort of my way of giving past experiences a bit of closure. Imbuing writing with pain and anguish is rather cathartic. To tell you the truth, the fact that I’m alive now puzzles doctors and professionals alike. A case study was written on me. I am one of only eleven cases to have ever survived several doses of acetaminophen- enough to kill multiple grown men- at the age of twelve. I’m an anomaly and the fact that I’m here today writing this only proves how strange I am. I can’t say I’m better now. But I’ve learned my lesson. I’m sorry if it was so intense. If you or a loved one are having suicidal thoughts, please tell someone. Don’t make my mistake. And please, for the love of God, if you’re considering it, don’t kill yourself. It would be the biggest and final mistake of your life. People care about you so much. Much love, - AE.)

[nhi-theuserof-this]

@sharpie-chen I said I’d write a oneshot

@give-grian-rights I have come to feed your brain ideas

TW// depictions of blood(vague), fighting, almost drowning(vague)

All kept vague but are described in detail in the version linked at the very bottom of the post

—

Technoblade.

Blood God. Merciless. Undefeated. The second worst thing to happen to the orphans.

His iconic crown was freshly polished and sitting back at his camp site because he didn’t want it to smudge while raiding a pillager outpost. For a little extra supplies on his journey.

Technoblade would’ve gotten back sooner if it weren’t for the screetching of an endedmen in the distance. Endermen were only aggrivated when attacked or if you made eye contact with them, and Technoblade had done neither meaning someone was nearby.

By the time Technoblade had gotten there, the fight was already over. Blood spattered across a small campsite and a single ender pearl hovering above the ground, a bloody mass slowly moving down the river somewhat covered by a cloak that twisted around it. Whatever had happened simply wasn’t of interest to techno as he snatched up the pearl on the edge of the river and turned back towards his own campsite.

A hand shot out of the mass and yanked on Techno’s cloak, causing Techno to drop his loosely held axe as he fell into the river. Technoblade felt two hands grab him tightly as they pulled him closely to themself.

Technoblade twisted around and kicked off of the figure and immediately began swimming towards the surface, the attacker following closely behind as they were just out of eachothers reach. Technoblade had pulled himself out of the river and the figure had closely followed. Just as they started climbing up, Techno looked back and kicked them back into the river.

After closer examination, Techno had been stabbed by a concealed weapon and he was not in range of any healing potions, having used them when raiding the pillagers. Bleeding at a steady rate without bandages, Techno trudged back towards his very far away camp.

Techno was barely consious as he reached his campsite, not registering the fact that things were out of place and how his crown was not there. All he did was collapse onto the ground and frowned as he saw a small figure approach. “Didn’t your parents teach you not to get near strangers?”

The kid mumbled something as Techno’s eyesight blurred. “Sorry kid, you’re gonna need to repeat that for me.”

“None.” Said a distorted voice, as the kid nervously looked away from Techno’s gaze. He would later put two and two together and figure out his parents were the ones that he found the remains of back at the other site, but Techno could barely think and almost didn’t register that this kid was an orphan now.

“I guess you’ve peaked in luckieness then,” Techno mumbled as his eyes slowly drooped and became half lidded. “B’cause if I wasn’t bleedn’ out right now I’d totally slay you.”

The small kid took a step back and Techno grinned, finding happiness in the fact that even on the verge of being forced to respawn, he could still terrorize small children.

Technoblade had woken up to the godawful smell of healing potions and dried blood. This should not be possible. He had passed out infront of an orphan hybrid and was supposed to bleed until Minecraft took pity on him and put him in the respawn menu. Instead, he is currently lying in his makeshift tent, splash potions staining his pants, partially undressed with poorly tied bandages around his wound.

He abruptly sat up, startling the orphan child from before into teleporting away. After an akward moment, the child came walking back with another potion as if he wasn’t startled into teleporting away, making it seem like he didn’t even remember it happening as he just waved when he saw Technoblade was awake.

-

Technoblade was suffeing a moral dilemma, and that never happens.

It’s completely against his own character to not slay an orphan, but it just feels.. wrong, wanting to slay the orphan that saved him from the pain that is respawning.

“Hey kid.” Techno mumbled as he dug into one of his many hidden pockets. “Come here for a second.”

The small hybrid teleported within arms reach as Techno took a string of measuring tape out of his pocket and wrapped it around the kid’s head. “Let’s go on a journey.” Techno grinned as he took note of the size the measurement was.

-

Technoblade had taught this orphan many things.

“Make sure you always have full hunger.” After the orphan had run out of sprint as the two were running from several pillagers.

“Keep something to reduce or minimize fall damage in your inventory, preferably a water bucket, but I know you don’t like water.” After the orphan tripped and fell off a particularly tall tree while trying to look for a lava pool.

“Keep a close eye on your surroundings.” After the orphan got caught between a ghast an two skeleton.

The lessons kept up until the two were in the blacksmith of an abandoned village as Techno measured the orphan’s head one more time as he set to work on something made of gold. He kept most of the larger peices locked in a chest.

“Here.” Techno said, opening the door to the blacksmith signaling that the orphan could come inside to see what Techno had been working on.

Lined up on a dusty table were several different sized crowns. On the inside of each one were different small messages written for the orphan. “I have elected that as a small orphan child, you shouldn’t be allowed to see the things I do, and I can’t have the enemy mistake you for someone they can use as a hostage. Become greater then all the rest.”

Techno scribbled a messy note onto a paper and stuck it into his pocket. “Kid.” Techno said turning towards a crafting bench motioning towards it as the orphan followed. “This is how you craft an ender chest.” Techno said as he crafted two of them and passed one to the orphan. “Place one down on the other side of the room.” And the orphan did so.

“Try putting a stick in there.” Techno said placing the other chest beside himself. “Now try looking into this chest.” Techno explained how enderchests worked and how they were only universal to worlds but existed everywhere. He told the orphan that he should keep the crowns in the server hub to maximize accessibility. “Once you grow out of it you can go to the next one, and that one’ll fit you.”

Technoblade and the boyorphan were in front of a portal to a place Technoblade knew quite well. Techno turned to the boy and pressed the messy note he wrote into his hands. “Read it once you go through, and don’t forget to listen to the crown, ‘Make sure you have a signature so the people remember who crushed them.’”

“Goodbye.” Technoblade said as his boy walked through the portal.

“Ranboo.”

——

Graphic edition: https://nhi-theuserof-this.tumblr.com/post/636290875226570752/tw-depictions-of-blood-gore-fighting-almost

——

Bruhhh so how’d I do mcyt tumblr?

Very quick edit: I’m finna be offline for the next 6-8 hours as of this edit because this is a school night :shrugs: btw how do people make custom tags??? I’m limited to mobile so that might be it

—

Edit(8 hours later)

I SAID HOW’D I DO MCYT TUMBLR?

Edit: saw a post of techno saying some stuff about the ranboo and him relationship thing so I might take this down depending on where this goes because I don’t wanna make technoblade uncomfortable

[elevenharringtons]

Boyfriend

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader (and a tiny bit of Billy Hargrove x Reader)

Summary: You’ve been Steve’s best friend ever since you could remember. The two of you have never defined your relationship with each other, but there’s obviously something there. A few drunken mistakes bring everything to a head. 

Warnings: Profanity, alcohol use, angst, some fluff 

Word Count: 6.8k  (I had a lot to say ok???)

This literally took three months to write because I kept leaving it and coming back to it, not sure where it was going to take me. Some of it in the middle might seem ya-ya’d through because of this fact. HOWEVER, I’m glad of where it ended up, and I feel like if I wrote any more on it, it would turn into a full out novel. It’s based loosely off “Boyfriend” by Ariana Grande + Social House, so you’ll see some lyrics in there, but as a guide. Also, it’s set in between S2 and S3. 

SO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, here’s Boyfriend, aka my first writing endeavor in the Stranger Things fandom. (also, also, requests are open!) 

I don’t wanna be too much And you don’t seem to give a fuck

It had been months since you actually went out, let alone went out and partied. College applications, scholarship essays, and staying on top of your schoolwork kept you extremely busy. Not to mention you were one-half of a babysitting team that you and your best friend, Steve Harrington, were thrust into the night Will Byers had been taken over by the Mind Flayer. Needless to say, you had your hands full and you were ready to let it all go. 

It was the Friday before Spring Break and you had finished your last application out to your “reach school”. It was an application that required two essays, three recommendation letters, and a statement of purpose. You had stayed up the night before perfecting it. Steve threw rocks at your window at midnight (a common occurrence, usually when he was bored), to which you had clumsily accepted, loudly throwing the window open and launching yourself back onto your bed as Steve crept into your room. 

“Subtle much?” “Oh, shut up,” you mumble to yourself. He sits on the edge of your bed, pulling out cans of Coke, bags of your favorite candy, and a box of Number 2 Pencils from his jacket pockets. “Thought you might need a few pick-me-ups,” he smiles, and, as if right on cue, your pencil lead breaks. Steve scrambles to open the box of new pencils to hand you one while the rest clatter to the floor. “Now who’s the subtle one?” You smirk, accepting the new pencil before burrowing your face back into your notebook. Steve looks at all of the paper scattering your bed, taking the actual application into his hands and studying it intently. “Harvard, huh?” “Before you go making fun of me, it’s my reach school.” “I wasn’t going to make fun of you! With the amount of studying you do, you could get into any school you wanted to,” Steve said. “Was that a compliment, Harrington?” You ask, eyes finally taking in the brown-haired boy at the end of your bed. “Uh, no, why would it be?” He fumbled over his words, shaking his head to the point where you thought it might roll across the floor. His cheeks flushed a light shade of pink before he started thumbing through your application again with furrowed brows, occasionally tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Your heart skipped a beat for a moment, before quickly sobering up and going back to your essay. There was no denying that there was something between you and Steve. You had been friends since kindergarten, when his family had moved onto your street. You were there for every playground injury, countless fights with his parents, numerous hookups that turned to feelings that turned to nothing but Steve crying on your shoulder, and, of course, Nancy Wheeler. You two knew everything there was to know about each other and yet kept your distance. Accidental flirting caused you both to be a bumbling mess, trying to compile yourselves before awkwardly acknowledging that it happened and going your separate ways. An endless cycle of frustration on your end. And his end? You weren’t sure. You knew you could catch him off guard at any given moment, but, he never gave off any other vibe than being your best friend. You carefully tore the finished essay out of your notebook and placed it next to your recommendation letters. Steve reached for the essay, only to be slapped away. 

“Uh-uh. Too personal,” you said, taking a box of Nerds from the pile of candy at the foot of your bed. Steve feigned hurt. 

“Too personal? This coming from Y/N, AKA, the only person I tell everything to? I’m shocked, I thought we were better than that.”

“You know how I feel about other people reading my work,” you said. You were known to leave the room the second you heard a teacher read an excerpt from your work as an example in class. 

 “I thought I was supposed to proofread your essays before you sealed the envelope,” Steve looked at you with pleading puppy dog eyes. Your heart fluttered again, but you swallowed your pride. 

“You’re here for moral support, dingus,” you rustle his hair with one hand, causing him to frantically put it back together again.

“Just the guy who brings the snacks.”

“Hey, you’re the one who agreed to it,” you pour a handful of Nerds into your mouth, grabbing all of the paper strewn across the bed and putting it into some kind of order. Steve watched as you mouthed the words on paper to yourself. You could feel his eyes on you, and after a while, began to feel your cheeks heat up.

 “Stop reading my lips, Harrington.”

“I wasn’t!” He flopped onto his back, watching the ceiling fan create slow circles around and around. “Have you ever thought about not leaving Hawkins?”

 “I mean, yeah, but I’ve lived here my whole life. Don’t you want to see what else is out there?” Truth be told, you were terrified of leaving Hawkins. Hawkins was your entire life and leaving meant you would have to leave Steve behind too. He was never one for education, promising you that he would take a couple of community college classes to earn his AA just to prove to his parents that he wasn’t a “failure”, but you? You were almost expected to be the one to make it big; get accepted into a school with a full ride and have a successful life after. You weren’t sure if that was the life you truly wanted. Submitting college applications wouldn’t hurt, though, right?

“Hawkins is changing though. More opportunities. Rumor has it, there’s a new mall opening up soon,” Steve elbowed your leg, looking up at you with childlike wonder in his eyes. You shook your head, making pencil marks in places you wanted changes in your application. His face dropped when he realized you weren’t listening to his untold ‘stay in Hawkins and get a job with me' story. “I’m just saying.”

 “Are you staying here tonight?” You ask, changing the subject completely so you could avoid any anxiety over the potential of leaving Steve in Hawkins for four years. “I left an extra pillow and blanket on my chair, just in case.” “I wasn’t planning on it, but now that you mention it...” “You can go to sleep, I’m just perfecting anyway,” you cracked a smile, noticing his droopy brown eyes drifting between your stack of papers and the bedding in the corner of your room. Steve got up, patted you on the head, and made his bed on the floor next to you. “Don’t work too hard, Y/L/N.” “Don’t count on it.”

And I might not be the one for you But you ain’t allowed to have no boo

You awoke that morning to a blaring alarm, papers on your face, and Steve’s leftover blanket and pillow neatly folded on your floor with a note on top.  

“Don’t worry about breakfast. I’ll have it at your locker when you get to school. See you then.” Breakfast was a common occurrence between you and Steve. It was mostly coffee and donuts from Dunkin’ Donuts, but it was breakfast. You threw your hair into a loose ponytail and slipped into a t-shirt dress before grabbing all of your application envelopes, stuffing them into your backpack, and heading out the door. The bike ride to school allowed you to clear your mind of everything that had happened the night before. The college applications were done and soon to be in the hands of every college you had applied to. It was up to them now, and you were at the mercy of the school board. Dustin was adding his bike to the rack as you pulled into the school parking lot. “Y/N! Aren’t you usually, like, 30 minutes early?” “And aren’t you usually riding to school with the party? Where’s everyone else?”    “Already here. I had to finish a project for class this morning,” Dustin said, pulling out a smushed diorama of the solar system from his duffle bag. “Solar system, huh?” You ask, studying the sad structure. “I didn’t have enough glue, okay? Duct tape fixes everything, I’ve heard,” He replies defensively. You raise your arms in response. “You better get to class. Don’t want anyone to think you’ve been stolen away by the demodogs again, now, do we?” You joke. Demodogs were no joke, though. That was the night you actually thought you might die if it weren’t for Steve. Dustin rolled his eyes. “You want me to get to class? Your boyfriend is the one who’s been moping around with a cup of coffee all morning,” and with that, Dustin was running into the middle school as the 5 minute bell rang. You could feel your cheeks heating up and the world closing in around you. ‘Boyfriend’? “You’re such a little shit!” You yell after him. He raises his middle finger to you with his free hand, the mobile of Saturn almost flying off the diorama as he ran. Huffing, you turn to go to the high school when you run into a wall of muscle, drops of hot coffee spilling onto your arm. “Shit! Y/N! I’m so sorry!” Steve was frantically mopping up the coffee droplets from your arm. “It’s not burning, is it?” “Steve, Steve, calm down! It’s okay, I barely felt it,” you say, watching as the boy slowed his movements. He held out the coffee, which you graciously accepted. “I didn’t forget about the donuts; they’re in my locker. I was walking to class and saw you pulling into school so I figured I’d meet you halfway. Was that Du-“ “Yeah, he was just, um, yeah…We should get to class,” you cut him off before anything else could be said about the little curly-headed boy who insisted Steve was your boyfriend. Steve stood frozen for a minute before reluctantly following you into the high school building. You could hear the small squeaks from his Nikes as he hustled to keep pace with you. “You know, Tina is having a kickoff to Spring Break party tonight,” he says once he is side by side with you. “I didn’t know you knew Tina?” “I mean, old friends, I guess? Anyway, since you’re done with your applications, I was thinking maybe you’d want to let loose a bit.” You stop in your tracks, turning to face Steve. “Are you asking me on a date, Harrington?” “No,” he says matter of factly, “I’m asking if you want to go to a party and forget about college acceptances for a night. I’ll pick you up, though!” You don’t know why your stomach drops when he doesn’t hesitate on not calling this a date. The warning bell sounded more like a foghorn as it blared across campus. You shake yourself out of a trance. “Oh, yeah…great. We should get to class.”

I know we be so complicated But we be so smitten it’s crazy I can’t have what I want but neither can you…

Seven dresses, three pairs of pants, four tops, and three jackets are strewn across your bedroom floor. You’re standing, hands on your hips, in a bra and denim mini skirt, surveying the hurricane of clothes in front of you. It was just a stupid party, what did you care? It’s not like you’d ever been to one before, but tonight felt different. Tonight, you felt like you needed to stand out. It was the last time you might be seeing all of these faces in the crowd before going off to college. That didn’t matter, though. What mattered was Steve. The bike ride from school today made you sit and think about everything that you and Steve had been through together. It made you finally realize that maybe, just maybe, you had feelings for him. In your head, it made sense to dress to the nines and go out of your comfort zone for a night. Maybe you wouldn’t be viewed as the stuck up prude that studies in her room every night. You look in your closet for the last time before grabbing a neon pink tank that was a previous reject from your floor and putting it on. The outfit was simple but bolder than your usual wardrobe. A car horn blares outside, and you know it’s Steve waiting for you. In a panic, you pick up a cropped leather jacket from the mess on your floor and rush out the door. It’s not that you were afraid of immodesty. The jacket was more like your protective shield of sorts; the kind of shield that keeps your good girl reputation intact in case the colleges you applied to were watching. It was 1985, anything could happen. Steve was standing outside of his car as you lightly jog up to him. He was wearing his usual uniform of a t-shirt, jacket, and jeans that were a bit tight, but in all the right places. You catch his eyes scanning your body before snapping back up to meet your stare. “Ready?” You ask, stifling a chuckle as you watch him scramble for words. “Uh, yeah…ready.”    The ride to Tina’s was silent at first, save for the music softly playing from the radio. Steve kept one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the gear shift. You had your legs crossed, right hand tapping along to the beat of the music on the windowsill. Every once in a while, you would feel Steve’s glance on you, but it would quickly fade once you even slightly turned your head in his direction. The silence was killing you, so you spoke up first. “You know Dustin had a project for school today?” “Oh, yeah? What did he bring? Another species that he “discovered”?” Sarcasm dripped from Steve’s speech. “No,” you laughed. “Poor thing brought a very smushed version of the Solar System. Did he tell you about it?” “I couldn’t help him there,” Steve said. “Science isn’t my thing, you know that.” “Did you not hear me say that it was smushed? You could’ve driven him to school!” “Then I couldn’t have gotten you breakfast!” “I would’ve lived! He’s your responsibility in some way now, right?” You counter.    “You wouldn’t have lived. I know you didn’t sleep last night. It’s a wonder that you’re even awake right now,” Steve responds. “I slept last night!” You said defensively. Truth is, you didn’t fall asleep until at least an hour before you had to get ready, and you definitely heard Steve crawl back out of the window. “Bullshit, Y/N. I could see you working until the last minute. There’s no way you got a decent amount of sleep.” “You saw me working?” You counter again. “Light sleeper,” Steve is on the defense now. You smile and shake your head as he pulls up to Tina’s place. Cars are littered across the lawn. Some partygoers lean up against porch railings, nursing beer bottles and red cups filled with God knows what. You notice Nancy Wheeler with Jonathan Byers, which was bewildering to you since Jonathan was never much of a partier. At least Nancy would be occupied for the night, you thought to yourself, not that Steve would even try anything anyway with the way things ended. Steve opened the door for you, interrupting your thoughts. Tina drunkenly stumbles out onto the lawn dragging several other people with her. They all seemed overly enthusiastic to meet you. Then again, maybe it was just the alcohol. “Harrington! You made it!” “Who’s the girl?” “You didn’t tell us you had a girlfriend!” You feel your cheeks start to flush red. “Oh, no, she isn’t…” Steve trails off. “We’re just friends,” you finish his sentence, cheeks going back to their normal shade. It wasn’t a date. Regardless of the comment, Steve’s hand grazes your lower back as he leads you toward the house, making chills ripple down your arms. “Mhmm, we’ll see. Can I get you a drink…ummm…?” Tina struggles to find your name even though you were pretty sure this was the first time you had ever met her. “Y/N,” you respond. “Y/N! Right! Come with me, we’ll get you set up!” Before you know it, Tina is pouring you a plastic cup filled with some kind of sangria. Or maybe a rum and vodka mix? You weren’t sure, but man, was it strong. You watch as a group of boys lead Steve to the beer kegs, trying to egg him on to take back the title of “King” from Billy Hargrove. Steve is vehemently denying wanting to get back on the “King Steve” train, but you watch as two boys lift him up and upside down onto a keg. You catch his glance before he drinks. A wink from him. A smile from you. Your heart is beating out of your chest, and you down your drink to rid the feeling. You slide your leather jacket off and place it on the counter, not feeling the need to hide yourself. You’re here to let loose, right?

You ain’t my boyfriend, and I ain’t your girlfriend But you don’t want me to see nobody else And I don’t want you to see nobody

A few hours pass, and you’ve made your way through four (maybe five?) drinks. You’ve learned Tina’s entire life story, met a new group of girls who also applied to Harvard, and made friends with a girl who went to the same elementary school as you. One person you were missing from the night was Steve. You hadn’t seen him since the keg stands, and there were at least three of them. It was like he was a celebrity, the way they were all standing around the kegs chanting his name. It made you laugh, though. If they only knew how much of a complete softie he was instead of this jock facade that he always seemed to put on in social situations. There is a group dancing in the middle of the room. You spy Tina and a mystery boy, Nancy and Jonathan, the girls that you had met earlier, Steve and…you squint your eyes as if it would help you to see across the room. You can’t tell if they’re dancing or kissing due to Steve’s back being turned to you. Your vision is blurry as you stumble across the floor to get a better look. The girl has curly red hair cascading down her back and wearing the tiniest black dress that would make even Tina blush. Steve’s hands are resting on her lower back, her hands tangled in his hair. Your cheeks flush red and full of hurt. Adrenaline began to take over your entire being. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to pull her away and tackle her to the ground or push her away and slap Steve in the face. Your feet are moving you before you’re ready, taking you quickly across the room and through the tight-knit group of teenagers. Arms reach out to separate the girl from Steve. You might have seen him wince a bit from the girl’s hands being yanked out of his hair, but you weren’t concerned about that in the moment. You’re not thinking straight as your hands fly up to Steve’s face, pulling him to yours in a heated kiss. The room feels still, world silent for a moment as the music still blasts loudly from the stereo in the kitchen. Your head is spinning, the taste of alcohol mixing with your cherry lip balm and the stale faint taste of beer on Steve’s breath. There is not an eye in the room that isn’t on you and Steve. After what feels like an eternity, you pull away, wide-eyed and stumbling backward, not able to decipher Steve’s expression. “Y/N…” you hear your name on his breath in the faintest whisper. It all becomes too much. You turn on your heels and sprint towards the bathroom, barely making it as you barrel through the door and collapse on the cold tile floor. The music still blasts loudly through the house, feeling like a hammer and nail pounding against your head. You just want it all to stop. The headache. The vomiting. The music. The girl dancing with Steve. Hell, at this point, you want to forget Steve. Maybe you’d be able to be a functioning human without having to constantly worry about if Steve is with someone. You could just focus on you. Maybe college was the fresh start waiting for you to forget Hawkins. A knock at the door pulls you out of your thoughts. “It’s taken,” you manage to get out before another wave of nausea hits. The door opens suddenly and closes gently. “What part of taken-?” “Hey.” You look up, staring into the eyes of a boy that you had only seen once (ironically, in another awkward situation involving you in a bathroom), but heard thousands of stories of. To be completely honest, you’d thought they made up the story of Steve getting dethroned as “king” because they were tired of him winning keg races. But, real or imaginary, Billy Hargrove was staring at you from the doorway, leather jacket open, exposing his glistening chest. “Billy? How are you-? What are you-?” “Speechless, sweetheart?” “No, I…I just didn’t see you tonight.” Nice recovery, idiot. “I’ve been around. Came a bit late. Figured I’d say hello.” “While I’m puking my guts out? Wow, what a romantic,” you retort sarcastically. He smiles and kneels down next to you. “Figured you’d need some company.” He gently brushes your hair out of your face and down your left shoulder. Electricity runs through your body in a way you’d never felt before. There is a moment between the two of you as Billy leans in closer. “I’m fine,” you say finally. You brush the butterflies in your stomach off as an early hangover and stand up to wash your face. Billy stands up and snakes his hands around your waist as you’re drying your face with a towel. Before you know it, he is spinning you around and pressing you against the sink. He dips his head in the crook of your neck, eliciting a small gasp from you as his lips gently graze along the sweet spot of your neck. You feel Billy smirk against your skin as you tip your head back ever so slightly, his lips continuing to explore your collarbone. You’re here to have fun, right? “Y/N?” A gentle voice is at the door and you know immediately know that it’s Steve. You feel Billy’s grip on your thighs tighten as you jump, reality hitting you square in the face. “Come on, Y/N, open up. It’s me. Look, I just want to talk about...about...you know...” Your head is spinning out of control. If Steve caught you with Billy, that would absolutely be it. The last time you dressed a wound of Steve’s was when he was protecting the kids from Billy. You could still hear Dustin’s panicked, but hushed voice on the phone, telling you to come over, it was really bad. A shudder rings through your body. You didn’t want to think about the wounds that would have to be dressed if Steve walked in on this scene. The doorknob begins to wobble, Steve still gently knocking on the door. Adrenaline surges through you enough to push Billy off of you so you could at least plant your feet on the ground. Billy grins. “If I’m not mistaken, that must be Pretty Boy himself standing on the other side of that door.” It’s almost cinematic as you watch the door swing open revealing a brown-eyed boy with a pout on his lips. He looks up at Billy with disgust, and then to you with hurt. You feel your heart shatter into a thousand pieces. “Well, I was coming to check on Y/N…but I see she’s got all the help she needs,” Steve says. Billy leans up against the doorframe, arms crossed. You wished you could slap that shit-eating grin off his face. You wished his cologne would stop wafting off of your clothes and into the air. You wished, more than anything, that you could stop replaying Steve’s expression in your mind. “No, no, no, you’re not getting away that easy, Pretty Boy. You wanted to talk about something? Now’s your chance.” “Billy,” you manage to choke out. You knew exactly what he was doing and you weren’t prepared to sit back and watch it happen. “Don’t get in the middle of this, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to that pretty little face of yours,” Billy smirked, bringing a hand to the corner of your mouth gently, which you promptly swatted away. You wanted to make Steve jealous before, but not this way. Not here. Not with Billy. Part of you began damning yourself for even kissing Steve in the first place. If jealousy wouldn’t have played a part in this, you wouldn’t be in this situation. You try reminding yourself of the redhead. The way she had her fingers twirling Steve’s hair. His smile as she swayed to the rhythm. Steve’s defeated expression in the doorway kept pulling you away. “Don’t talk to her like that,” Steve whispered. “You’re brave for still being around these parts, you know that, Harrington? How about I kick your ass again to remind you why you shouldn’t be here.” Billy’s hands clenched into fists. Steve’s cheeks flushed rage. You just wanted out of this situation. With what little strength you had remaining, your hand met the back of Billy’s head with a loud smack. Billy turned to face you, one of his hands immediately flying up to the pulsing red spot you had left him with. “Just go, Billy.” You say sternly. Billy eyes the both of you, chuckling softly. He turned to disappear back into the party, but not before body checking Steve on his way out. You watch as Steve winces, eyes wandering up to meet yours. Before you can open your mouth, Steve is following suit, disappearing into the wave of teenagers. Tears sting your eyes, begging to be released. You blink them back as you follow Steve’s path. You had to fix this.

I promise the way we fight Make me honestly feel like we just in love … I lose my mind when it comes to you

The cold night air is a pleasant change from the humidity between bodies in Tina’s crowded living room. The breeze wasn’t helping the fact that there were still tears in your eyes, each wind blowing past threatening to release an entire ocean. Your eyes were locked on Steve’s silhouette as he walked towards his car. “Steve!” You’re yelling for him until you’re hoarse. It’s not until you’re directly on his heel that he turns to face you. His eyes are red and you can see where a few tears had cascaded down his face. “Why.” “I should ask you the same question,” you counter. Steve shakes his head, spinning back around to open his car door. You grab his arm. “I don’t want to hear it, Y/N,” he says coldly. “Please.” Steve sighs and closes the car door, leaning against it. A tear escapes his eye. You reach up to wipe it away but he swats your hand away to take care of it himself. “You were in there with him,” his voice cracks. “He-“ “You were in there with him, Y/N! You’re going to try and deny it? What? After you kiss me, making me look like the biggest idiot on the planet for not immediately running after you? And then the moment I do, he’s blocking my way? What the hell?” “Steve it isn’t-“ “What do you mean it isn’t like that? You’re going to kiss me, after everything we’ve been through, and then I walk into that? Is this a game to you? Our whole…everything?” You watch as Steve hesitates in continuing his speech. Tears stream down his face, and your heart shatters in a million pieces. You can’t help the tears that well up in your eyes. The girl dancing with him seems like a blur in your mind. Just another one of the girls that loved him and left him within the same day. Just another heartbreak you would have to deal with as you stroked his hair late at night and told him that “the one” is out there. Him not knowing that “the one” had been there all along. “Steve…” “All this time, you know? I really thought I had you figured out. One moment, we’re sitting on your bed cracking jokes together, and then the next you’re…I really thought…shit,” he takes a moment to rub his eyes and get his thoughts together. “Look. I made a mistake, okay? That girl…that girl was a distraction. I was trying to get your attention.” “And you got it. What makes you think Billy wasn’t a mistake?” You respond. “Because it’s Billy. I mean, he just looks at girls and gets them to do anything for him. And he’s in there taking care of you? Something I should-“ “You think I wanted him in there, Harrington?” You interrupt. “The last thing I wanted while near death on the floor was fucking Billy Hargrove trying to feel me up. I…I wanted you, Steve. I’ve always wanted you, Steve.” Steve’s eyes light up for the first time that night. He runs his fingers through his hair, a nervous tick that you had picked up on over the years. Now it’s you who had tears streaming down your face. Steve’s hands move to wipe them away and you let him. His hands linger. They’re soft, save for the rough callouses on his left hand from that one year he tried to pick up guitar. You lean into his hands. It’s the first time you actually felt secure all night. “Can we…start this night over? Forget that any of this happened?” “I would like that,” you nod through tears, smiling. “On one condition.” Steve’s face falls and he takes his hands away from your face, worry in his eyes. You reach for his arms and place them around your waist, taking his face in your hands. “Stop being so goddamn stubborn.” And with that you kiss him gently, Steve returning the kiss before pulling away. “Only if you stop first.” You playfully swat at his chest as he leans in for another kiss, which you happily return. “Let’s get out of here.”

If you were my boyfriend, and you were my girlfriend I prolly wouldn’t see nobody else But I can’t guarantee that by myself

A month passed since you sent in your college applications. A month of agonizingly looking up at your ceiling fan until school started, then coming home and looking longingly out at the mailbox; a cycle you had grown quite accustomed to. Today was no different. As soon as the bell rang, you were darting out of the classroom and sprinting to your locker, fumbling with the lock as if it were the first day of school all over again. “Whoa, whoa, slow down there, Jethro,” Steve sidled up next to you, taking the lock from your hands and opening it for you. You throw your social studies book in the locker, throw your backpack over your shoulder, and grab your psychology book before slamming the door and starting down the hallway. “What if today’s the day?” “You’ve been saying that for a month, Y/N,” Steve is struggling to stay alongside you through the constant wave of students trying to get to the buses. “Okay, but what if?” You grab his hand and drag him down the hallway to the bike rack. The party is also getting out of school and grabbing their bikes, and there you are holding Steve Harrington’s hand. “Gross!” Dustin is the first to speak. “You all are holding hands?” Lucas adds. “When did this happen?” Mike is almost disgusted. “Guys, stop it. I think it’s kind of cute,” Will, always the gentleman, smiles at you, while getting looks from his friends. “Yeah, it’d be cute if it wasn’t Steve!” Dustin replies. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks. “I mean, it’s you.” “Uh-huh, yeah, very original.” “And you’re holding hands.” “Okay? And what if I did this,” Steve leans down and kisses you passionately to a chorus of “ewww” and “gross” and “please stop”. You pull away, grabbing your bike. “Well, boys, it was lovely to chat, but I have to go see if there is an acceptance letter waiting in my mailbox. You kiss Steve again (to the party’s dismay) before pedaling away. “I could just drive you, you know? It’d be quicker!…And you’re gone,” Steve yells after you. Dustin puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, buddy. You’ve got us to keep you company.” “Yeah, just in case, you know, she never comes back,” Mike adds. “She just went home, she’s not dead, you idiots,” Steve countered, although he couldn’t help the nagging thought in the back of his mind that you would get accepted to one of your dream schools and leave him in Hawkins. Will noticed Steve’s subtle change in expression. “Steve, are you okay?” “What? Uh, yeah, I’m fine. I need to go make sure Y/N gets home,” he says, digging through his jacket pocket for his car keys. “Are you coming to movie night?” Dustin yelled after him. “I mean, I don’t have a choice, do I?” Steve yells back. “Unless you want Mike and Lucas to get in another fight!” “Hey!” Mike and Lucas both hit Dustin on the side of the head. Steve turns to face the party, still walking back towards the parking lot. “I’ll be there at seven. You dipshits better not kill each other before I get there, got it?” The party nods collectively as Steve turns back around to find his car. Once he drives away, it’s a silent drive to your house. The inside of Steve’s mind was anything but quiet, though, as he still was thinking about what the kids were saying. They were kids, what did they know? But you were super smart. There was no doubt in his mind that you wouldn’t get accepted to Harvard. You did every extracurricular he could think of, plus got straight As, plus tutored him when he was struggling with algebra. Harvard was just too far from Hawkins. Purdue would be better so he could visit you, but he didn’t want to influence your decision in any way. You were sitting in your driveway, rifling through envelopes as he pulled up next to your house. “How’s it going?” You place three creme colored envelopes in front of you as Steve approaches, and stuff the rest of the mail in your backpack. He sits next to you, reading the return addresses. “Purdue, Ohio, and Harvard,” you breathe. “Which one should I open first?” Steve’s jaw clenches as he reads the schools in his mind over and over, mulling over in his mind how far of a drive Ohio was, how close Purdue was in respect to Hawkins, and truly how far Harvard was. Was he just exaggerating? He feels your eyes boring into the side of his head. “Harvard,” he blurts, silently cursing himself for doing so. You tense up. “I was gonna do that one last, you know? Save the best for last?” “Oh, no, it’s okay! It’s totally fine! Um,” he stammers. There’s a silence between the two of you before you begin to laugh at him. “Steve. Whatever happens, I’m not leaving you, okay?” “It’s just that-“ “I know. You are worried that I’m going to move away, find some college guy that is better than you, and fall in love. It’s not gonna happen, Steve. I waited this long for something to happen between us, and I’m not messing it up because of college. Plus, there’s no one out there who is going to make me think that they’re better than the boy who adopted a baby blue tang at the Hawkins Aquarium for my seventh birthday” you assure him. 

Steve smiles at the memory. You wouldn’t shut up about the fact that you could adopt your own fish and visit it every day. Your parents didn’t have enough money at the time to do it for you, and when you came to Steve’s for a playdate after spending the morning at the aquarium, crying and holding onto a ragged blue tang plush, he silently vowed to save all of his allowances to adopt a fish for you. It was quite possibly your fondest childhood memory. “But, long-distance is hard.” “Stevie, we don’t know what any of these say. For all I know, they could all be rejection letters,” you reply. “You know that’s bullshit,” Steve laughs, leaning back on his arms. “Now, are you going to open the letters or let them blow away in the breeze?” You carefully opened the Harvard letter, unfolding the trifold, and reading silently to yourself. Your face fell slightly at the result. An acceptance. You were so prepared for rejection, why weren’t you happy that you got into the most competitive school in the country? Your reach school? But there was the acceptance embossed on nice card stock paper with your name on it and it made you sick. “It’s a no,” you say carefully, not wanting to convey the actual result to your boyfriend. “No it’s not,” Steve said, reaching for the letter. “Let me see.” “No, Steve. It’s a no,” you say, stuffing it back into the envelope and tossing it in your backpack with the rest of the mail. “I should’ve known anyway.” “Hey, come here,” Steve envelopes you in a warm hug, fingers running through your hair. “They don’t deserve you.” You lean into his embrace and before you know it, you’ve both fallen on the driveway, laughing as you went down. Steve kisses your cheek. “I could lay here forever.” “I couldn’t, I’ve still got two letters to open,” you bolt upright. Steve looks at you with pleading eyes. “I’m just joking.” You say, flashing a smile. “Let’s see what the other two say,” Steve lays on his side as you open the letters from Ohio and Purdue. Both acceptances, of course. Getting accepted to Purdue made you feel more at ease. It wasn’t Harvard, but it was home. “I have until the end of the month to make a decision,” you say, reading the last sentence on your Purdue letter. “Well, how many more are you waiting on?” Steve asks. “Four, but I think I’ve made a decision,” you say, smiling. “I’m going to Purdue.” “Are you sure you don’t want to wait?” Steve quizzes you, but you can tell he’s trying to hide his excitement from your decision. “I mean, it kind of makes me nervous to leave Indiana. I mean, I’m getting out of Hawkins, which is what I wanted, but I’m not far from home. Plus, I’ve got a good reason to stay close,” you say, leaning in to kiss him. He deepens it, pulling you as close as humanly possible. You smile into the kiss but pull away gently. “We should head inside. Kind of weird to be making out on my driveway, don’cha think?” ***************************************************************************************************** You’re snuggled into Steve’s side as Return of the Jedi is nearing its end. The boys are all asleep on Dustin’s floor, El is snuggled into your side asleep, Max next to her. If you had a camera, you would totally set it up to take a picture of the scene around you. In that moment, you truly felt like you were in your element. Movie nights with the party were your favorite, and you loved that you had El and Max to keep you sane while the boys were fighting amongst themselves. It made you that much more excited that you would be close to them so you could watch them grow. However, there was one thing that you felt that you couldn’t let go. You feel Steve’s head droop down onto yours. “Steve,” you whisper. “Hmm?” “You’re falling asleep.” “No I’m not,” he slurs sleepily. “I have to tell you something,” you say. “Hmm?” “I didn’t get rejected from Harvard. They accepted me.” Steve stirs. “I was born at night, but not last night, Y/N. You’re bad at hiding your facial expressions.” You roll your eyes, trying your best to ram into his side without disturbing El and Max. Steve hugs you closer with sleepy eyes. “But I’m glad you’re here.” “Yeah. Me too,” you smile.

You were truly home.

[maulie-dyke]

A Small Lumberjanes Fic

So, I was thinking about the headcanon I sent to @luminouslu about Jo’s past, and I made myself sad. Thus, I wrote a fic. I’m not new with The Lumberjanes, but I am not the most confident with my writing of the girls, so this is the first time I’m posting a fic for this fandom. (I have 3 others in the works now!) I swear the flashbacks are supposed to be in italics on mobile why does Tumblr hate me.

Fic under the cut:

It had been six years. Six years that included some interesting revelations, from Jo coming out to her dads as trans three moths before camp, to said camp, which she was currently being allowed to leave for two days with the rest of her cabin. Sitting in a seat in Ripley’s family’s van, she stared out the window and remembered.

Mothers’ Day, 2014.

Climbing out of Uncle Alan’s car, she she watched as April, surprisingly carefully for a seven-year-old, pulled a box out of the passenger seat. Reaching behind her best friend, she grabbed the vase of flowers and envelope still on the seat, and nested them into her arms, along with her lunchbox from school.

“Come on, Alex! You’re so sloooooow!” April shouted from the steps.

“I’m coming!” she replied, climbing the few stairs leading to the front doors of Group Health Central Hospital.

Following April inside, she reached the receptionist desk and grinned.

“Hi, Ms Betty, how are you?” The greying receptionist smiled at her words, an odd expression on her face (She would later find out Betty thought she was adorable).

“Hello, Alex, April. Here to visit your mother, Alex?”

At Jo’s nod, Betty reached for a clipboard and a pen.

“Since it’s regulation, you still have to give me your names, first and last, please,”

Looking at April, a silent understanding passed between them.

April spoke up, “April Burnett, ma’am.”

Following April, she added, “Alexander Sakiyaki. Do you need it spelled?”

“You’re here every week Alex, I think I know how to spell your name.” Betty made that weird expression again as she filled out the paper in her clipboard, “You can go on back, you know the way.”

Laughing, she raced April through the halls to her mother’s room. Reaching the door, they stopped to catch their breaths and compose themselves before knocking on the thick white door.

“Come in!” a voice, a bit rough, but still musical, called.

While April walked in calmly, with a bit of bounce in her step, Jo ran in full speed and jumped to hug the woman sitting in the armchair by the window.

“Mama!” she shouted, laughing as she was peppered in kisses.

“Alex, April, hello darlings!”

April waved, a grin splitting across her face. “Hi Aunt Kyoko! Happy mother’s day!”

Scoffing, Kyoko opened her arms more, bringing April into her hug as well.

From her place tucked into her mother’s side, Jo spoke up, “We brought you some things!” Sitting up, she grabbed the flower vase and card from April, and presented them to Kyoko with a flourish, at the same time as April with the box.

“Thank you, darlings!” Opening the card, a pile of glitter fell on the Asian woman’s lap to reveal the classic slogan of the holiday. After reading the card and admiring the flowers, she opened the box.

“Look! They’re cookies! We decorated them ourselves!” April pointed at the cookies, half covered in glitter and mermaid scale like designs, one with a shaky Japanese character written on it, and one, pristine, almost perfect flower. “Uncles James and Leo did that one.”

“They’re wonderful!” Kyoko said. Dropping her voice to a whisper, she added, “To be honest, I like yours the best.”

April and Jo beamed.

“How did you and Papa get married?” Jo asked, out of the blue.

“Let me tell you a story.”

April and Jo sat expectantly at Kyoko’s feet, star struck as she began her story.

“Many years ago, at a museum in Paris, was my first ever art show as a professional. I was bored out of my skull, having to talk to so many stuffy business people. Then, I met a man who was charming, funny, nice, and incredibly good looking. I asked him out to lunch, and he complied. At said lunch, I confessed to him that my parents (who were pretty famous business people in Japan, at the time) were expecting me to marry a nice, rich MAN so I could continue the Sakiyaki familial line. I continued with the fact that, as a lesbian woman, I had no plan to do so. The man laughed, and added in he was gay, with a partner back in America. We quickly became friends, so when my parents pressured me into getting married, I married him, with consent from his boyfriend. A year later, I had a baby, a small boy with a head full of hair and very long fingers, that we named Alexander Hiroki Sakiyaki. Then, we got divorced so your Papa could marry Dad, but we still lived together because we were best friends, like you two. The end.”

After a few moments of silence, April blurted out, “You went to Paris? Did you meet Emilie Agreste, the famous actress?”

About an hour later, Kyoko was teaching April how to draw while Jo worked on a project.

Hearing a small bang, then an ouch, Kyoko looked at her child.

“Alex, love, what are you doing?”

“No! You can’t see yet, It‘s a surprise!” Jo leaned over her project, glaring at her mother. “You’ll get to see when you come home! When is that gonna be?”

“Saturday, love. The doctors say I’ll be well enough to go home then!”

Cheering, April and Jo jumped up, bouncing around the room in a hug.

“Mama’s coming home on Saturday!” was all anyone passing by heard.

Two days Later, 2014

It had been a nice day, sunny and not too warm, to get prepared for Kyoko’s move back to the house. Leo and James cleaned and redecorated her bedroom while Jo ran around finishing her project for her mother.

Nice until the phone rang, at least.

Jo watched silently as Leo answered the phone.

“Hello? Yes, this is him. Oh...oh my god.” her heart froze as the normally so composed man’s hand went to his mouth and tears filled his eyes. “Yes, I’ll tell him. And Alan and April, they deserve to know too. Email me the papers and I can send them to you.” hanging up the phone, her father just stood there, hand over his mouth. Sighing, he bent down to Jo’s level and took her hand.

“There’s no easy way to say this, but mama won’t be coming home this Saturday, or any Saturday.”

“Friday?” Jo asked, her heart still frozen.

“No. She’ll be coming home never, love.”

Her eyes widening, Jo dropped her Papa’s hand and walked to the door in a sort of daze. “Nope, nope, nope, nope...”

Now halfway down the long driveway, she startled when her dad picked her straight up off the ground.

“I’m so sorry, buddy.”

She buried her face in her dad’s suit jacket and cried.

Present Day

“Jo! Jo! Jo! Jo!”

A voice broke her out of her thoughts. Ripley’s voice, presumably, as the small girl bounced in the seat behind her.

“Where are we going? Is it somewhere fun? Is it-” The blue haired ball of energy was cut off by Jen, who had placed a hand over Ripley’s mouth.

“Why don’t you leave Jo alone, Ripley? The place we’re going is not fun, it means a lot to Jo.” Jo looked at Jen, then, silently thanking her. “Also, we’re here.”

Once the Roanokes, Jen, and Ripley’s parents were out of the van, Jo started down the familiar path that she had walked on this day for the past six years. Her dads falling into step with her, with April holding her hand tightly, Jo spoke up.

“It’s my mom’s birthday. I want you to meet her.”

“If we’re meeting here, why are we in a graveyard?” Ripley had broken free from her mother’s grasp, and was now bounding along behind Jo.

She heard Mal and Molly go to shush the 12-year-old, but waved them off.

“We’re in a graveyard because she died a few years ago. When I was seven.” she looked down after her statement, kicking at rocks on the path as a silence fell over the group.

“We’re here.”

Her mum’s grave wasn’t anything fancy, just her name, years she lived, and an engraving of her favourite flower on a basic stone tombstone.

After a few moments of silence as the rest of the Roanokes digested this information, Molly spoke up.

“I bet she was amazing.”

“She was. She would have liked you guys.”

“She taught me how to draw, how to be a good investigator, and how to use a sword. She was the greatest.” Jo sniffed, fighting back tears as April grabbed her hand and guided her to sit down in front of the tombstone.

“I bet, wherever she is now, she’s smiling at you, glad her beautiful daughter has such good friends.” her dad said, placing a hand on her shoulder (the most he could do, with all the Roanokes hugging Jo at the same time).

Tears freely dripping down her face now, Jo nodded slightly.

Maybe it wasn’t okay. But it would be.

//END//

A few things explained for clarity:

The idea behind Jo’s mom being said to go home on one day but not doing so was shamelessly taken from My Neighbor Totoro.

This is in the same universe as Miraculous Ladybug, but only because I don’t know of any famous french people besides musicians.

This was completely un-beta’d, so if there are any mistakes they are all mine.

I based the years off of this present year, hence Jo’s mom dying when she was seven, in 2014. Jo in this fic is 13, as one of the writers for Lumberjanes has stated the only one with a concrete age is Ripley (12), but all the other girls are somewhere in between 12-14. 

Jo’s deadname is entirely headcanon.

Thanks for reading my long, rambling thoughts!

XO,

Nath

[tr-ash-posts]

Huh I had this stupid idea for a soulmate situation where a butch lesbian and a cishet frat boy were soulmates, so here it is

________

Whenever Kala looked at the words engraved in her wrist, she felt like laughing and crying at the same time. When she woke up, at age sixteen, with them permanently on her body, she was sure her brothers had pranked her. Once it was confirmed they hadn’t, Kala immediately embraced the fact that she had the worst soulmate marking in the entire planet. Right there, in here inner wrist, were the words “No homo, but your hair looks awesome”.

Mike only felt confusion. His words were “Uh, I’m a girl, actually.” He had woken up late for school and only noticed the words when his mom pointed them out. She had been rushing along with him when she froze, her hand over her mouth and eyes wide. Mike stopped too, concerned. His mother wordlessly pointed at his wrist. For just a second, she feared it was a tattoo, but when the realisation hit her, tears welled in her eyes. Mike missed half of his morning classes that day, because his mom took him to the cemetery to see his father’s grave. Mike told him about it. He wasn’t sure how he would have replied, had he been alive.

The day Kala came out was a trainwreck. She reunited all of her family in the living room. Her parents were hard to get a hold of, but this was important to her. This was her family. They had been making bigotted comments her whole life, but she was naive enough to think they would make an effort to change. Kala was so sure she mattered as much to them as they did to her... That was the day she would’ve become homeless, hadn’t it been for her grandmother. Before she left, after barely managing to pack half her important things, she kissed her siblings goodbye. They were sad to see her go, but she was even sadder to see them stay. Serena’s hug was extra strong, because Kala knew that being stuck in a body that isn’t yours in an environment like that was horrible. At least now Serena knew. So Kala got in her grandfather’s car and didn’t look back.

Everyone had told Mike he would either get a sports scholarship, or become a high school has-been. When he badly injured his tendon and wasn’t able to get that scholarship, he was a wreck. For an entire year, he dropped of school. All he did was physiotherapy and sleep. He barely ate. His mother cried herself to sleep every night. When he turned seventeen, he finally managed to get back on track. He finished high school and then went to law school, full academic scholarship. Mike aimed to be just like his father, making justice, except he wanted guns as far as possible. For a while, he became an inspiration story. The black ex-athlete who managed to turn everything around for himself. Yet, he still wanted to play, so he went back to the gym.

Kala joined the gym on her second year of college. She had always hated working out. The concept of subjecting yourself to extended suffering when you could just not do that did not appeal to her. Then, she went on a (torturous) run with her best friend one fateful day and felt all the serotonin. When Kala told her grandmother, she insisted on getting her a gym subscription. At first, everything was fine. She was on the right track. About six months in, she started feeling anxious every time she went there. Something was lurking. Something was about to happen. Then, one day, someone tapped her on the shoulder and then figuratively hit her in the face.

–No homo, but your hair looks awesome.

Kala ran her hand through her short hair as a small smile of disbelief creeped onto her face.

–Uh, actually I’m a girl.

Mike froze and they both knew. Kala held her hand out.

–I’m Kala.

–I’m Mike. Sorry for mistaking you for a guy.

Kala shrugged.

–Happens all the time...

She got a nod in response, and then awkward silence. Mike stuck his hands in his pockets and then addressed the elephant in the room.

–So... You’re my soulmate.

–Yup...

–Are you a lesbian?

Kala blinked fast and then gulped. The last thing she needed was another person who was supposed to love her hating her because of who she was.

–Yes. Yes, I am.

At her stuttering, Mike rushed to backpedal:

–That’s totally cool! You’re so cool, man. You’re totally jacked and shit. Exactly what I wanted my soulmate to be.—he stopped, took a deep breath and then stuck out his hand.—I’m Mike.

Kala frowned, but shook his hand.

–Kala. We’ve been over this.

His hand went up to scratch the back of his head. The texture of short hair soothed him.

–I know... I was just trying to start over. Better, you know? I’m trying to improve... Hence why I came here to compliment you thinking you were a guy. You know. Fuck toxic masculinity and stuff.

Kala looked up at him for a tense second before snorting and bursting out laughing. Once she was done, she fist bumped him.

–Yeah, that’s the way to go. Fuck that.

There was another pause, less awkward, as Mike silently congratulated himself.

–So, are you one of those progressive frat boys?—Kala asked.

Mike shrugged.

–I guess you could say so...

–That’s pretty wholesome... We should grab a coffee some day. Uh, full homo...

Mike laughed.

–Full homo... I like that.

Kala smiled. Mike took a pen out of his fanny pack and wrote his phone number in Kala’s arm. She furrowed her eyebrows at him as he walked away.

–You could’ve just asked for my phone!—but he didn’t turn back..

Somewhere not too far away, Mike held his mobile to his ear, pacing. Once the beeping stopped, he immediately started speaking:

–Hi, mom, how are you? I just found my soulmate. She’s a lesbian.

[machihunnicutt]

What the Downton Movie Owes Me (but will probably not give me): Some Thoughts on Thomas Barrow

yes...I wrote 1k+ words on this. I’m so sorry.

I’m watching Downton Abbey for the 3rd (4th?) time with my sister who hasn’t seen it. I love this glorified soap opera to death, y’all, with the full acknowledgment that this show does a horrible job with a lot of its plot lines designed to tackle complicated issues: disability (the ableism against Bates via the house that he never gets apologies for, Matthew and his spinal injury/wheelchair that is always framed as life-ending and making him nothing but a “burden”), class (the Branson/Sybil marriage is alright, but there are countless missed opportunities to interrogate the relationship between upstairs and downstairs, particularly Carson’s attachment to a family that monopolizes his life and the lives of all its employees), (I’m going to leave race and gender alone because I think it does a pretty decent job when these issues come into play but feel free to lmk if there’s something I missed!), and sexuality, which is what I want to get into.

So granted, I understand that I’m not the target audience for this show. I understand that Downton’s gay characters were not written primarily to be relatable, multifaceted representations of gay people in a period drama. I get that Downton’s target audience is older, straight people for which representation isn’t super important. But, I have watched this show at least 3 times now and I’m still angry about its treatment of Thomas Barrow, so I’m going to break down why:

1) Things We Know About Thomas Barrow

I really like early seasons of Downton because, for all its drawn out drama and plot twists, it cares a lot about character development and consistency. Many characters (dare I say the majority) do mean and bad things and yet, we are still empathetic because we’ve spent time with them, understand why they make the choices they do, and see them learn from their mistakes (early seasons Mary is an excellent example.)

Thomas Barrow is my favorite Downton character because of the great narrative work they do in this regard. In the first episode we learn several character traits of his that continue to be important throughout his arcs:

- He doesn’t trust easily and has few friends in the house. (AKA, boy’s got a bad attitude. It’s better to act like you hate everyone than give them the chance to reject you.) I found this immediately endearing (because of who I am I guess lol), and though I understand why people don’t like his character because of this, I think it’s a good move for a character you intend to have grow over a long period of time. Opening up, accepting help from others, and showing kindness are all parts of Thomas’ future storylines, actions that show his slow growth from this facet of his character. I also think it’s important to note that when Thomas does make friends he is loyal to them (I’m excepting O’Brien from this category given there’s so much backstabbing between them that it’s a stretch to call them friends) and will take risks to protect them (Examples: befriending Lt. Courtenay and later fighting Dr. Clarkson to keep him at the hospital; befriending Lady Sybil and speaking kindly about her when he doesn’t have nice things to say about anyone else upstairs, later earnestly mourning her death in a show of vulnerability he generally masks; befriending Jimmy and looking out for him when he gets drunk at the fair, going as far to get beaten up to save Jimmy; befriending Andy and helping him learn to read; befriending the kids of the house and saving them from that one nasty nanny who was mistreating them.)

- He’s a romantic. The man wants to be loved and jfc I wish the show gave him a good love interest.

- He’s easily manipulated. (More on this later, but for now...) The Duke plays him, and it’s cruel, but it shows how easily Thomas can be tricked when he’s offered affection and the chance to leave Downton for something better. (Also note: from day one, he’s wanted to leave Downton!)

- He’s the evil gay trope. The gay villain trope has a long and complicated history and sure, you can say Thomas’s sexuality and role as an antagonist aren’t connected, but the show doesn’t exist in a vacuum and it feeds into a long history of villainizing LGBT and LGBT coded characters. The thing I hate most is that they get really close to subverting it in Thomas’ best moments (his work in the hospital during the war, his relationship with the kids, his gradual opening up to people in the house) but alas...

2) Why I Hate The Jimmy Kent Arc More Than Anything

Okay, so it makes sense for Thomas to be manipulated by O’Brien. That’s consistent with his character and I don’t fault the show for melodrama because that’s what it does. What I hate, is that the show depicts Thomas’ attraction to Jimmy as predatory and when he is punished for trying to kiss Jimmy while he’s asleep (which is assault) the house (and I’d argue, the show) frames this as bad only because Thomas is gay and Jimmy is not. In the show’s narrative Jimmy is mad because he’s homophobic, not because he’s been violated. And his and Jimmy’s ensuing friendship would be genuinely sweet if it really was just an issue of homophobia and not one of ASSAULT!

I’d argue, you can’t have it both ways. You can’t portray Thomas as predatory and then brush it aside to make a statement about tolerance, because assaulting people is bad regardless of the sexuality of the perpetrator. You either need to punish his actions for what they are or get better at story telling and not rely on the predatory gay stereotype.

But, secondarily, I’m bothered by this arc because it doesn’t seem in character, to me. I know Thomas does a lot of bad, stupid things, but I don’t think it makes sense for him to be predatory. In his best moments he is protective, romantic, and loyal. Yes, we see him as rash and naive, but his actions never felt right for the character, to me. I just think it’s lazy writing to handle his attraction to Jimmy this way, especially given the development of their friendship afterward. It would’ve been so much more satisfying and narratively interesting for Thomas to express his feelings for Jimmy in a respectful way. Jimmy is the only character we see Thomas have genuine feelings for (not motivated by upward mobility as in the case of the Duke or I guess(?) racial stereotyping in the case of Kemal Pamuk...but lbr his pass at him was mostly a plot device) and I think the arc would’ve been so much more fulfilling if we saw it as Thomas’ attempt to love someone fully and honestly, even if it ultimately doesn’t work out the way he wants it to. And I don’t get why they didn’t do this! Because the Jimmy/Thomas friendship ends up being sweet, and useful for each character’s development. They just had to make it gross by beginning with an assault. Just a huge, lazy, waste of a potentially good idea.

3) The Last Season Was Bad For A Lot Of Characters But They Did Thomas Extremely Dirty

I don’t know where to start with the last season because I think they ran into so many problems because they forgot how to use great characters effectively (Mary is a prime example!!) and started just throwing them into dramatic situations for the sake of plot and not keeping actions consistent with established character.

For example, life at Downton is the roughest it has ever been for Thomas in season 6, to the point where he is alienated by most in the house (I’m not going to talk about how badly Carson treats him and how much of a tyrant Carson is in the last season because again, I think it comes down to the writers forgetting how to use their characters effectively) and attempts suicide. All in all, I just don’t like this because it’s predictable and overdone. Gay people in period pieces almost always have overwhelmingly tragic stories and it’s not fun for me to watch anymore. What most disappoints me though, is that when everyone else is getting paired off in the fan-servicey ending, Thomas’ consolation prize is being the butler??? To a house full of people who’ve hated him??? He’s wanted from the beginning to leave Downton and in the end he doesn’t.

Don’t get me wrong, if the show had shown me his change in attitude and relationship to the house, given me this character development in meaningful ways, and not used a suicide attempt as a half-assed catalyst for change, I would be all for Thomas as Downton’s butler. I think that if they’d done the work of making it a believable and constructive next step for his character, that I’d really like it. I think Thomas’ relationship with the kids (particularly George! I’d watch a whole movie about that!) is well done and I think it echos Carson’s relationship with Mary, but better. But you! have! to! do! the! work! to! get! the! audience! there! You can’t give me a whole season of Downton nastiness and Thomas suffering and then expect me to buy that this is his happy ending.

4) What I Want From This Movie

I don’t think I’ll get it (though a love interest for Thomas via the trailer is encouraging), but here’s what I want:

- Show me why Thomas Barrow as Downton butler makes sense. And if you can’t, let him leave and be happy somewhere else because he deserves it.

- Show me how he’s grown. Show me his relationship with the kids and how he’s better than Carson because I need it!!

- Let Thomas be in a relationship that is healthy and not manipulative or coercive or a plot device for drama.

- Let him be in love and don’t make it a sad story. Please.

I find Thomas Barrow such a compelling character because he isn’t perfect. He makes mistakes. He does bad things. He grows. He changes over the course of six seasons. He’s a gay character in a period drama whose story isn’t about being ashamed of who he is. It isn’t about denial or apologies or pretending he’s someone he isn’t. And I think that’s significant. I just wish they’d done a slightly better job. :)

(Thanks for reading. I’m gonna keep being a Thomas Barrow stan even when no one watching with me thinks I’m valid lol.)

[thefishychicken]

Fanfic stats tag game

I was tagged by @r6shippingdelivery (any probably someone else but mobile is fucking my over)

Author Name: DatGirlSuzie

 Fandoms You Write For: Rainbow Six Siege

 Where You Post: AO3 only. I have had some experience using other sites but AO3 is the best by far.

 Most Popular One-Shot: Jägermeister. At the time of this posting, it has 1040 hits and 72 Kudos. While that isn’t much compared to other authors, I’m happy that some of my fics are breaking the 1k mark. Fun fact: I actually can’t read this fic. It’s too cringy for me and every time I look at it, I see mistakes and want to close it.

 Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story: I only have one multi-chapter story but even that is stuck at ch.1 so I wouldn’t exactly say it fits. The title is “Late is Better Than Never” and my fun fact for this story is that I actually got my super muscular hot friend to pose for me when I was stuck writing the scene where Fuze is taking off his shirt. It might have been one paragraph in the fic but in real life it was two hours of sweaty posing under the sun.

 Favorite Story You Wrote: Without a doubt, my favorite story is “Can You Fit a Fourth?” It was the first fic I had ever written for the fandom and although the first release was absolute dog shit, when I finally got my act together (and partnered with Rosallora) it became my staple fic. Or at least that’s what I tell myself. Fun fact: I had to edit this story only using my phone while I was stuck in rural Bolivia with no cell service.

 Story You Were Nervous To Post: None. I usually don’t feel nerves when releasing my fics. Even my Horse Rook and OwO fics that I know everyone hates were posted without hesitation. I know exactly what I’m doing and what the reaction will be. So why should I be nervous?

 How Do You Choose Your Titles: I think of something that people usually know and try to make it worse/meme-y. Although my current released fics appear to have normal titles, Kiki, Grunkle, and Sword can attest to my weird as fuck fic titles that I release in dms. Fun fact: I think of titles first and then build the plot around them. It’s a weird method that can backfire sometimes but usually it works out. Fun fact: I think of titles randomly during the day. I’ll be walking in the park and suddenly my brain will do “hold the fuck up. Two In The Pink, One In The Fink.” and that’s how my fics are born.

 How many stories are…..

Complete: 9

 In Progress: 37. I counted. All of them are half done or near completion, I just haven’t had the energy to write.

 Coming Soon: I’m writing for dualrainbow’s event, so you guys should be on the lookout for my shitty Spanish. Along with that, I hope to release the edited Horse Rook fic, “Do You Know The Whey?”, “Stuck Between Iraq and a Hard Place”, “The Lion, the Witch, in the Wardrobe”, and “Meals On Wheels” by the end of August. I’m leaving with the titles and the reminder that they’re going to be 99% smut.

 Do You Accept Prompts: No. I tried to in the past, but with my energy to write practically diminished, I can’t take on anything that I don’t absolutely love.

 Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited To Write: Shh… it’s a secret. The fic is much darker and more hardcore than anything I’ve written before and while I will release it when it’s done. I’m not going to talk about it much other than mention it here. :P

 Tag five fanfic authors to answer these questions: Tbh everyone I know has already done this so I’m sorry if y’all have already done this. @swordliger @freedert95 @gillesmontagnetoure @aesos-caliber @rosallora

[taeddybearkim]

The Hidden World // Part Six

cr.

Genre: Hogwarts!AU, occasional angst & comedy, fluff

Pairing: Jongdae x Female Reader, ft. EXO

A/N: Sorry for updating this series so late! I’m the worst author out there lmao But anyway here it is! I hope it lives up to your expectations!

Series Masterlist

***

Y/N’s Point of View

Well, at least I wasn’t a complete mess.

After rushing my way through the severely mobile staircases and waiting for at least 5 minutes until the door portrait could open the door, I was back in my dorm, washing my face.

So this was it, I thought to myself. This was what I had forgotten. And now I remembered it. I was back to who I was.

Right?

For some reason, even though I was relieved for the most part, a string of doubt hung onto me.

What if it wasn’t true at all?

After all, a happy ending for me was kind of far-fetched, right?

It seemed to good to be true.

I tried to push my doubts away as I shook my head violently.

You remember him.

You remember everyone.

You remember what happened.

You remember your memories.

It’s all going to be okay.

I tried to reassure myself as best as I could, and walked back to my desk to pick up my bag and walk towards my next class, Potions. At least Professor Snape’s sudden, tricky questions would definitely offer me some distraction before I got lost in my head.

Without giving myself any more time to think, I walked to the basement-like classroom, and sat down before the bell rang.

***

Today was an applied lesson day, meaning that we got to brew actual potions. Professor Snape was not in class though, he had to attend an urgent meeting involving a Slytherin boy that was in some sort of trouble, so Professor Slughorn was substituting him. To be honest, I liked him better than Professor Snape. At least this man was approachable, and didn’t hesitate to let us have fun most of the time.

Like today, where we were brewing our very own Amortentia potions. It was an advanced potion actually, but Professor Slughorn was eager to see who would be able to pull it off.

After half an hour of fighting my way through the ingredients, I was done and waiting in line to get the Professor’s approval. A few Ravenclaw students were done before me.

After mixing mine around carefully and giving it a few smells, the Professor looked satisfied. “Excellent job, Miss Y/N. It’s not entirely perfect, but it will definitely work properly. Good work.”

I smiled and went back to my working table. Most of the students were clutching their noses because the potion was smelling horrible due to mistakes they had made. Except for me, a bunch of Ravenclaws and a couple Gryffindors were able to pull it off.

“Maybe we will try this again when Valentine’s Day is closer, hmm?” The professor announced once everybody had shown their potions, a great majority of which were not prepared properly. “You’re free for the last few minutes. Good work today, everybody. Don’t forget to dispose of your potions if you don’t want them.”

Students went over to their friends’ working tables to talk while I continued to sit in place. A few people were asking the Ravenclaws who had pulled it off if they could smell the potion, to figure out what their loved one would smell like.

Why not? I thought to myself, as I slowly brought my tiny pot closer to my nose.

It smelled like... chicken dumplings, mint, and... parchment paper?

If it wasn’t parchment paper, then it was definitely some sort of old paper that smelled nice.

I flipped to the back page of my notebook and wrote them down, just in case I would forget them or lose the potion one day.

Wait. Why was I even interested in what my loved one would smell like?

It wasn’t like I was one of those girls who were desperate to be with someone, or felt empty when I wasn’t going on dates with guys.

That’s what I believed, and that was always how I had been. I was alone for most of the part, and a part of my childhood was even erased, even though I had gotten it back eventually.

But it was different now, wasn’t it?

Now there were people whom I was actually close with.

And people I wanted to be closer with.

***

Jongdae’s Point of View

During the last 3 classes until dinner, I was barely paying attention. I was so excited and worried at the same time. My mind was whirling, and I could barely concentrate enough to get some important notes down. 

The reality was finally setting in. I didn’t have to be another person around Y/N anymore. She was back to her usual self.

She was back to being my dearest friend, and my first love.

Which I still hung onto for dear life.

“Mr. Kim!” Professor McGonagall’s voice suddenly boomed somewhere near me. “Y-Yes, Professor?”

“What is the most common mistake made while performing a transfiguration?”

Frantically, I glanced down at my notes. At the top, there was a sentence that looked like it could help. “Not keeping a clear mind on what you want to transfigure the object into..?” I said quietly.

“Yes, well done,” she nodded, “But please try to pay more attention to class.”

I nodded and blinked a couple times to clear my head. Yeah, it was better if I kept my mind off of things for a while, at least in class.

A few Slytherin boys that sat in the back, the usual troublemakers, snickered a little bit, before earning a glare from the Professor. Once our written assignment was done, the bell had rung, and everyone was making their way toward the Main Hall for dinner. I was finally free to elaborate on my thoughts as I walked down the stairs.

Y/N was finally back. She was finally back to me, and that made me more happy than anything else could. But I was also worried. What if we couldn’t continue where we left off, like she had said? What if it got awkward all of a sudden?

What if...

What if she didn’t think of me the way I thought of her?

I didn’t want to have certain thoughts on what her feelings were, because I didn’t know what they could be. I didn’t want to be boasting that she liked me too, but I also didn’t want to believe that she merely saw me as a friend.

What would I do if she did?

The Main Hall was in it’s usual loud mess of a state. A bunch of students had already begun eating, and more were pouring in as I walked towards the Gryffindor table, and looked for the boys. Yixing hyung and Minseok hyung were there before anybody else, since their last class was closer to the Main Hall. Sehun and Kyungsoo were there too, and I sat down across from them.

“Sehun, did you-”

“Yeah, I have it,” he replied as soon as he was done drinking his orange juice. I nodded and turned my head toward the doors as I waited.

As I waited for Y/N to come in.

“Dae, what are you looking at?” Minseok hyung asked, but I didn’t turn to look at him. “Come on, start eating.”

“Just a minute,” I waved him off. I saw Baekhyun approaching with his usual smirk on his face, and to my utter disappointment, he came to sit next to me, blocking my view of the doors.

“Aww, waiting for me?” he beamed as he sat down and smiled at me. I almost sneered, “Out of my face, Baek.”

“You’re not happy to see me? That hurts, Jongdae,” he held up his hand to his chest in mock sorrow. “Where is Chanyeol? At least he’s happy to see me.”

Blocked by a beaming ball of joy, I gave up trying to look at the doors. I just had to hope that Y/N was going to sit with us like she told me she would.

The few people that were there had already started eating, and some had noticed that I was staring at the food instead of putting it in my mouth. “Something wrong, Dae?” Myeon finally asked, he had arrived later and sat next to Kyungsoo. “No, it’s nothing, I just--”

“Um, could I sit here?”

Okay, I didn’t want to sound dramatic and cliche, but that was the sweetest, most angelic voice I had ever heard, and it belonged to the person I wanted to see the most.

Y/N.

She was standing a little bit behind Sehun, clutching her bag to her chest, and looking like she had asked the weirdest question of all time.

I broke into a smile without even realizing, while the others looked at her for a while, and her gaze flicked between each and every one of us.

Sehun was the first to break the silence. “Hey Y/N!”

She smiled and replied back, which finally caused me to break out of my happy trance. “Hey Sehun.”

“Guys, you know Y/N, right?” I spoke, getting their attention, “I invited her to sit with us, is that okay?”

“Sure,” Yixing hyung flashed his dimpled smile, and everyone else muttered similar phrases with smiles on their faces. “Sit down, Y/N, the food is getting cold,” Minseok hyung smiled as she was, inevitably, forced to sit down next to Sehun because there was nowhere else to sit.

Ugh. Why did Baekhyun have to sit next to me?

The rest of dinner, at least, was somewhat pleasant. It consisted of eating mostly, but between each mouthful, the boys introduced themselves to Y/N one by one, and she beamed with smiles as she got to know them better. She also told them some things about herself.

Then, her and Sehun started talking about Herbology.

“Remember that one time Professor Sprout got drenched with that Hufflepuff kid’s Dragonfruit?” Sehun turned to her, and they were already close from sitting next to each other. Too close. 

“I don’t know who I felt more sorry for. The Professor or the fruit,” Y/N sighed.

“Not the kid?” Sehun raised an eyebrow.

“Please, it was all his fault. He should have paid attention when Professor instructed on how to properly slice it.” She earned a couple loud laughs from the group. “Damn, Y/N, I didn’t think you’d be so harsh,” Baekhyun giggled, and Y/N smiled at him. “Just saying,” she grinned. “It’s the truth.”

A few people continued to chuckle quietly. “Speaking of, could I get your notes, Sehun?”

“Of course,” he reached into his bag and handed the notebook. Or rather, pulled it away right before he did. “Wait, what do I get in return?” he smirked.

I was beginning to sense that this was going down a path that wouldn’t end well, because this was Sehun. He liked teasing girls. A lot. My teeth clenched inevitably.

“I don’t know,” Y/N looked at him, “What do you want?”

Oh no. There was no way this way going to end well.

“Hmm,” he thought for a second, under my glare. Suddenly, as if he sensed it, he glanced at me for a second, and started smirking. “What about a hug? Only if you’re comfortable, though.”

My spoon fell from my grip and landed loudly on the table, but for once, I was thankful that the Hall was as loud as it was, or else everyone would have heard it.

“Do I have to?” she was almost whining, which I would have found to be cute, but she was whining at Sehun. 

“Do it, he won’t bite,” Baekhyun encouraged her, “At least most of the time.”

Almost everybody laughed, including Y/N.

“Fine,” she sighed, and my eyes shot open. No. This was not happening. 

I have to stop this. No. They can’t. He can’t. She--

“Only because I really need those notes, though,” she said, as she slowly reached to wrap her arms loosely around Sehun. Everybody except Yixing hyung and Minseok hyung started to make loud “oooh” sounds, while the hyungs simply resorted to a few chuckles.

And of course, everybody except me.

“Seriously?” I couldn’t control the slight venom in my words as I watched them. “Right in front of my chicken dumplings?”

Something snapped in Y/N’s eyes at that moment, and she quickly pulled away, looking... nervous, all of a sudden?

“R-Right, ch-chicken dumplings...” she muttered as Sehun finally handed her the notebook with a wink.

The elephant in the room, which I had desperately tried to look past, was in front of my eyes again. 

I cared for Y/N deeper than I thought. Hell, I had even confessed to her.

And God, it made me so jealous to see her with the others.

What was I thinking inviting her to sit with the boys?

More importantly, what was Sehun thinking?

I continued to gaze at those two as I finished up my plate, along with everyone else. We had the rest of the dinner period to do whatever before it was curfew and bedtime.

“Jongdae, why do you look like you’re killing Sehun with your eyes?” Kyungsoo spoke, and everyone turned to look at me. Finally, I realized how I must have been looking on the outside. “Do I? I didn’t mean to, I was just looking,” I tried to wave him off.

“Sure...” Chanyeol spoke, with every implication that neither him or anybody else had believed my response.

Internally, I was cursing at both Sehun and Baekhyun since they seemed to be the ones that were getting in between me and Y/N.

But it isn’t their fault, is it? 

My conscience was right, but I chose to ignore it for now.

“Noona, you’re going to sit with us from now on, right?” Jongin beamed at Y/N as soon as she was done with copying the notes and packing up a little bit. “I don’t know, Jongin...” she seemed uneasy. “Would you guys be okay with that?”

“Absolutely, what are you even talking about?” Chanyeol flashed a huge smile. “It feels like I’ve known you for ages.” I grimaced at his comment, but I hoped that it didn’t show. Everyone else were muttering phrases of approval. “Alright, I guess I will, then,” Y/N gave a small smile.

Sooner than I thought, dinnertime was over and we had to go to the dorms for bedtime. I made a mental note to contact Mother on the weekend, where cellphones were allowed in the dorms. I quickly walked to stand next to Y/N as she was picking up her bag.

“Ready to go?” I forced a smile, but at least I was happy that she didn’t need to be away from me anymore. She nodded as the 10 of us started walking toward the Gryffindor Common Room, with Baekhyun or Chanyeol cracking jokes along the way, causing our laughter to echo around the walls.

We arrived in the Common Room way too soon, and it was time for us to part. “Thank you, guys,” Y/N turned to look at all of us suddenly. “For dinner,” she muttered, as a shy smile etched onto her face. “No problem, I’m sure we all enjoyed it as much as you did,” Yixing hyung smiled at her, and Baekhyun said, “Don’t worry, there is going to be more where that came from,” before grinning and walking off to his dorm like everybody else as they all bid each other a good night.

I was left with Y/N as we both stood there. Alone.

“Um, thank you for tonight,” she said quietly, as she took a few steps toward me. The fire was providing a nice hue from the back, and she looked more beautiful than she already was. The light was slowly dancing on her clear skin, while the moonlight illuminated the other side of her body that had been left in the dark. Her eyes looked soft, laced with sleep, her figure slightly slouched from exhaustion.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” I managed to say, once I was able to take my eyes off her figure and fixed onto her own orbs. “It really means a lot, I had an amazing time. And... about earlier today--” she trailed off, looking anywhere but at me. “It doesn’t feel real, does it?” I sighed, and she nodded.

“Don’t worry,” I smiled as I moved even closer. “I assure you, it’s all real and it all happened. You’re back now.” My arms were open for an embrace before I had a chance to take them back down, but to my surprise, she wrapped her arms around me in an instant. “I’m back, aren’t I?” she muttered and I could feel her voice against my chest, which affected my senses way more than it should. Her voice sounded sleepy as well, but it was a sound so sweet that felt like a lullaby in my ears. I felt euphoric. “You’re back,” I muttered back, feeling beyond happy as I rubbed tiny circles on her spine.

I heard a sniffing sound, and Y/N was out of my arms in a flash, looking flustered. “I-- um, I should get to bed. Good night,” she took off as soon as I said good night back to her.

That was weird. Had she smelled something on me?

I brought my face down to sniff as well, wondering if I smelled bad or something. 

Not really. All I smelled of was minty body wash.

***

Y/N’s Point of View

It was too much. It was all too much.

As if I didn’t have enough to worry about with all of my classes, as well as remembering the boys once again, hell, even Jongdae’s confession, the things that happened today seemed like a sick joke that fate had decided to crack up.

Climbing up the stairs two steps at a time, I hurried into my dorm room and tossed my bag somewhere, before I quickly changed into my pajamas and threw myself onto my bed. I pulled the blankets over me before the other girls had a chance to ask what was going on, surrounding myself with the suffocating darkness.

Get it together, Y/N. Breathe. Just breathe.

It could be a coincidence, right?

The fact that I had noticed chicken dumplings and mint on Jongdae today could be a complete coincidence, right?

Those were only two of the things that I smelled in the potion. Nothing is certain yet.

Taking a few deep breaths in the fluffy siege of my blankets, I tried to calm down.

Why was I worried though?

Finally unable to breathe, I poked my head out of the blankets and looked at the moonlight seeping through window in front of me, the only source of light that remained in the room.

Why was I worried about Jongdae being my soulmate? It wasn’t like there was anyone else that I knew as good as I knew him.

I couldn’t imagine myself with anyone else.

What about Jongdae?

Could I imagine myself with him?

I shook my head slightly. No, just because I can’t imagine myself with anyone else doesn’t mean I have to imagine myself with Jongdae.

I sighed, feeling the growing urge to fall asleep. As I closed my eyes, I realized something, but pushed it aside.

I didn’t mind imagining myself with Jongdae.

***

The next day passed fairly quickly, and it was already lunchtime. I didn’t feel like eating, so instead I walked back to the Divination chamber. I had to check in with Professor Trelawney anyway since I had missed her class yesterday.

Knocking slightly as I stood at the doorframe of her chamber, I waited until she finally turned to face me from a pile of books.

“Miss Y/N! I was wondering when you would drop by. I saw you in a vision yesterday,” she smiled, and gestured me to sit on a chair near her desk. I complied, walking to the chair and reminding myself that I should have expected this since she was the Divination professor after all. “Would you like some tea, dear?”

“No, Professor. Thank you,” I mirrored her genuine smile. “So,” she finally say down, “I knew you would come here but I don’t know why. Speak up, dear. What brings you here?”

“I just wanted to check in with you, regarding my absence in class yesterday,” I spoke, “Is there any work I should do or any assignments I should have?”

“Oh, no dear. Yesterday, we only read from the textbook, but I’m sure you have read this chapter before anyway,” she smiled.

I couldn’t help but blurt out. “How did you know?” I said, a little bit shyly.

“I noticed you flipping through to the next chapters the day before,” she slightly grinned, “I don’t blame you, though. This chapter is a particularly boring one to read.”

I chuckled at her forwardness. “You didn’t see that beforehand like a vision?” I joked.

“No, dear,” she smiled. “Anything else you want to ask?”

I thought for a moment. Professor Trelawney was gifted with seeing things before they happened. Seeing the future.

That was why I couldn’t help but wonder.

“Professor, seeing into the future is possible,” my voice had become more serious. “Is it possible... to see into the past as well?”

She paused for a moment, and there was silence. “Why do you ask, dear?”

I thought again. Why had I asked? What could I gain from seeing into the past?

A lot. 

“My parents...” I began, suddenly wondering why I was even telling this to her, but decided to go along with it anyway. I trusted Professor Trelawney. She was a pure, genuine woman who had her own unique ways. “I never got to meet my parents. I never had them growing up. I want to know what kind of people they were, and how I ended up losing them.” When had I started crying? “I want to know... who they were.”

The professor’s face mirrored my frown, and she handed me a tissue as she made her way around the desk and wrapped her arms around me for comfort. I didn’t push away, instead letting myself calm down in her warm embrace while I also wiped my eyes and my nose with the tissue.

“I’m incredibly sorry to hear that, dear,” she spoke sadly as she pulled away. “Nobody deserves to have such a fate.” Finally done with wiping away at my face, I looked at her expectantly, to give me an answer.

She was silent for a while. Her huge spectacles gleamed as her head slightly bobbed due to her pondering, her crazy hair accompanying them. Finally, she broke out of thought.

“There is a potion that pulls the past back into life,” she began. I was on the edge of my seat, listening as attentively as I was capable of. “Next time I run into Professor Slughorn, I will ask him if he has the ingredients.”

I was shocked. Was this actually happening? “You... will help me, Professor?” I widened my eyes in disbelief.

“Of course dear, in any way I can,” she smiled.

“Why?” I blurted out, without realizing. What reason did she have to pull in this favor for just another one of her students?

“Why not?” she countered with another smile. “From the moment you first entered my chamber, Y/N, you piqued my interest. Your soul, your memories, your future; they all had so much potential that I almost felt overwhelmed from this energy. I guess you could say, I want to learn about you, as a student learns from a teacher,” she slightly chuckled at her allegory, which caused me to curl up my lips as well.

“Thank you, Professor,” I expressed, as I stood up, “Thank you for helping me. I will be waiting for your news.”

“Absolutely, dear. Bye now, both you and I have classes to get ready for.” She ushered me out of the Divination chamber with a final wave as I walked to my next classroom.

***

The next day, I woke up somewhat happy. Yesterday’s dinner had consisted of a freestyle rap battle between the boys, to which I was the judge. At the end, it was a draw between Chanyeol and Sehun, Yixing a close second after losing from a slight vocabulary mistake. Chanyeol and Sehun made a deal to pick it up some other time to settle who was the best once and for all. The whole ordeal was fun to watch, but even more fun to referee. Jongdae commented that they should do a vocal battle next, to which he earned a death glare by Kyungsoo and a punch on the shoulder by Baekhyun. He muttered to me that it was because they all knew he was the best, and I giggled under my breath.

I had long forgotten the elephant in the room. The news that I would get from Professor Trelawney had preoccupied my thoughts from wandering to what I thought of Jongdae and his confession.

Jongdae and his confession.

Barely being spared from dropping 5 reading books at once, I huffed against the shelves. I still had some time before my morning class, so I had decided to pay a visit to the library to check out some more books.

Making it to my window sill - I really shouldn’t have claimed it, but it wasn’t like anyone visited this section and this window sill in particular anyway - without dropping any books or myself, I set them somewhere so I could perch myself up on my spot. When I settled down, I took the time to gaze at the view visible of the grounds outside. It was early in the morning, the sun’s light violet and yellow hues yet to settle on the horizon, the Whomping Willow shaking slightly from the frost of the morning. Winter was coming after all, so I felt a bit sorry for the poor tree. Instead of attacking me, it had decided to extend me a branch one time, which I held to witness the tree’s leaves twirl around my wrist in a vine before retracting and getting back to their usual positions.

I saw one of my books which I had set on the other edge of the sill be taken out of my peripheral vision, so I snapped my head at that direction to stop the intruder of my personal time.

“I had a feeling your book choices would be awesome.”

Standing before me was none other than the witty, yet painfully lacking in sense of humor, Kim Junmyeon.

“Good morning, Myeon,” I smiled at his equally soft features, which probably mirrored mine, from being up early in the morning. “I was about to yell at you to let go of my books.”

Junmyeon chuckled, “Relax, Y/N-ie, it’s just me.”

I blinked. “Y/N-ie..?”

Junmyeon slightly staggered back. “S-Sorry, I guess you don’t like it. That was awkward of me.”

“No, no!” I shook my head, “I like it, I was just surprised for a second.” I repeated to myself, “Y/N-ie. I like it. Sounds cute.”

“Only fitting for a cute girl,” Myeon muttered, with what looked like a blush on his face, but it was probably the hue from the rising sun, right?

Only fitting for a cute girl?

Had Junmyeon just--

Sounds of heavy stomping put me in a state of panic, before a large “Shh!” was heard from somewhere, and the stomping stopped.

“Myeon, there you are!” A loud voice called, almost furiously, as its owner approached Myeon and me. Who was this loud, rude, disrespectful idiot at the crack of morni--

“Dae, for the umpteenth time, stop making so much noise in the library,” Junmyeon sighed tiredly. Jongdae finally appeared fully in my vision, looking - as I had predicted - quite angry. The question was why?

“Oh shut up, there isn’t anyone here at this hour besides weirdos like you, and smart people like Y/N.” He finished his sentence as he looked up to me on the window sill, the hugest smile in the world which could only belong to him plastered on his face while I processed the fact that the disrespectful one was Jongdae. “Good morning, Y/N!”

My response was interrupted with another shushing from somewhere. “Good morning to you too, Dae, but please don’t get us kicked out of the library,” I tried to form a smile.

“Everything was fine before you came and interrupted--” The rest of Junmyeon’s sentence was muttered, almost whispered, which was unusual of Myeon and mostly under the courtesy of Jongdae.

“Yah, what did you just say?” Jongdae was about to smack Junmyeon with the book in his hands, but stopped halfway, scoffing. “It’s a really old book, I don’t want to waste harming it by hitting it on you.”

“Which book it it?” I asked, leaning closer so I could get a better look.

“I’m glad you asked, Y/N!” Jongdae beamed, completely contradictory to his fiery temper from a second ago. “It’s this book that my History of Magic professor recommended once, it kind of grew on me. Do you want to take a look?”

The yellow-violet hues had taken their beautiful toll on Dae’s face as well, his already bright eyes seemed to radiate more and more light, his sleep-covered features glowing with the yellow. I nodded as he opened the book to the inside title page, Oblivion.

“It’s really old,” Dae elaborated, as if it wasn’t obvious, “It even smells old.” He held it up to my face for me to smell.

I froze.

Old parchment.

I swore I heard a clicking sound inside me somewhere, and I thought Dae heard it inside me as well, because he stopped talking mid-sentence. “I really like this b-”

I stared at him for a while, not really knowing why, maybe because I felt awkward from whatever the bloody hell that sound was and that Dae and Myeon had possibly heard it.

The three things from the Amortentia potion were complete.

Chicken dumplings.

Mint.

Parchment paper.

***

Masterlist

[big-pp-energy-ven]

Lonely Hour {OC One shot}

OCs featured: (Henry x Nexus)

Editor's note: I usually don't write as much, I honestly prefer comics. I wrote this weeks ago and I kinda want feedback. Please enjoy... maybe I'll post the rest later (it got cut off).

________________

The amount of body's grinding against each other in such close proximity made Henry claustrophobic, viewing how so many people were from their school.

All their movements were jagged, loose, and awkward, some people putting in actual effort to dance while the others shimmied the songs. The lights were dimmed with some strobe neons swiping the walls, and there was one main speaker blaring popular hits from the decade. 

The volume was astronomical, and quite surprisingly, no one called the authorities to shut down the party.

Hanging by the wall, Henry and his close friend, Shade, stayed near each other in hopes to not get lost in the crowd. 

It was difficult to hear anyone, not even themselves, talk or even shout.

The vibrations of the sounds resulted in Henry to become nauseous. 

Shade held their red cup tight, watching their purple haired friend crumple to the ground in boredom.

Guilt struck them, as they realized that Henry wasn't the type to enjoy massive crowds like this; or really any sort of crowd. He had spaced out when Shade kneels in front of him, mouthing something like,

"Do you wanna go someplace quiet?" 

Though he couldn't hear them, Henry nodded, only to rise from the floor and follow them out of there.

Apparently, many of the kids at school were invited to this spring break party by a small group who rented a large enough airbnb for the majority of the people who came. There was a pool, and the lot had enough space for the party to carry on outside. Of course, there were a few college students, just in case the cops raided, so that they could pull it off as being a frat house party (which would most definitely backfire anyways).

Upon entering outside, the warm, humid evening air hit their faces. It was ten-ish, and most of people's curfews were way past that time… but it's not like they cared.

Henry and Shade take a load off from being inside, and take a seat wherever there was a space available. Most of the outdoor seating was taken up by some participants, who were smoking and hanging out. So, the duo sat on the first few steps of the patio, watching everyone have a good time.

A different song played, with a mixture of ambience from the partiers in the pool, and crickets. The smell of weed hits Henry's nostrils as they sit in silence…

Shade takes a dab from their vape pen, exhaling it out momentarily. 

"Do you think Fikod's having a good time?" Henry murmurs, loud enough for Shade to hear. Fikod and Shade were siblings and usually they were both always next to each other, due to them being fraternal twins. 

"I bet my ass he is," They snort, some leftover vapor excretes from their mouth, "He's probably getting stoned right now."

Henry chuckles with Shade, imagining his friend getting high with a group of other stoners.

Despite what everyone else was doing, Henry didn't want to get involved with it. If anything, he'd probably have one or two beers and that would be enough for him to get mildly tipsy…

This made Henry feel kind of left out, even though he's making the best decision, and it caused him to feel bad for holding Shade back from their fun.

He couldn't handle the amplified music, the large crowd, the drugs- nothing.

He began to wonder why he was even invited or brought along by them- knowing that he didn't like partying.

A part of him wanted to get out of the house, away from Zhila, his aunt. He would've done something else entirely if he didn't want to attend this party.

"Shade," Henry turns to his bright ginger-haired friend, "do you wanna go out there?" 

With a swing of their head, they stare at Henry with widened eyes, "What? Me?"

Shade processes what he said, before answering solemnly, "Well, I do. I wanna try to hook up and smoke."

Then, they pause, tapping their pen against their knee… "But I don't wanna leave you sitting here."

Henry scoffs, rolling his grey eyes, "Don't worry about me so much?" 

I don't wanna be alone.

"You're just saying that, man," Shade scoffs back at him, more playfully.

"I'm being serious," Henry perks up, meeting them at eye level… 

"I don't mind."

God damn, I just wanna leave this place.

Shade's eyes avert away from Henry's for a second, thinking. A reluctant smile grows on their lips, their freckles creasing as they do…

"Alright then," they utter, boosting themselves from the step. As they turn to go back into the home, Shade says very sternly, "If you need anything, please come find me. Okay?"

Henry raises his phone, as if to gesture to them that he'll call if he needs help.

Plodding up the patio steps, Shade's feminine figure eventually squeezes by a group of people by the entryway of the home, disappearing from Henry's sight.

For the next few minutes, he sat on the stairs, in his own thoughts… watching everyone else have fun.

The siren girls splash each other and pool other people into the water as a joke. A few groups of guys are recording and vlogging their experiences. A small mixture of girls and boys are doing a choreographed dance for tiktok…

Gross.

Henry fiddles with his phone, pretending that he was messaging someone on his phone, while in reality, he was scrolling through his social media.

Various posts and snaps of people from the party, posing with their friends, videos of them doing shots and other crazy shit.

The soft tapping of Henry's shoe was increasing in speed as he scrolled deeper into his feed.

Just threads and threads of everyone posting their point of view and having fun.

He saw a few people he knew, like Rain… who was only there for the aesthetic and the weed (most people were anyways).

Brit and his current girlfriend, Briana, both had taken "couple" selfies… like everyone else.

And Nexus, who was posed in a very dominating stand, carefully taken by one of his posse, as if it were a photoshoot.

Envy courses through Henry, and it made it feel like he could easily break his phone with a single clench of his fist.

Henry knew he could just walk home from the party and call his own driver, but… something was holding back.

This is a heinous night, he thought to himself glumly.

Around this point, it was eleven, and it seemed as if the party was just going through its second wave. Eventually, Henry got up and headed back into the airbnb, nearly bumping into a few people.

"Fuck you too, jackass!" Someone shouted to him, as he ambled through the thick patch of bodies.

Unsure why he even went back inside, Henry aimlessly strolled through the crowd, seeing how gross everyone's dancing was… it was a lot worse than homecoming dances, and those are cringey.

Someone's hoof stepped on his foot, causing him to stumble over himself in pain. Limping through the rest of the way, Henry made his way to where the kitchen would be, and from there it stunk of various aromas.

The kitchen wasn't crowded, but there were still people hovering around with drinks and chatting. Just annoying people in the way. He told himself that he wouldn't drink this time, though he found his hand digging through the melted cooler for a beer.

It was room temperature beer, but it didn't matter, he needed something to distract and loosen him up for a bit.

Straight from the can, Henry takes a lousy swig, seeing how no one was there to drink beside him. It tasted like crap, but he's tasted worse.

For the next half hour, Henry lingered in the kitchen, when he finished off two cans so far… fortunately, he ate something before he downed those two beers; unfortunately, it was almost three hours ago.

Yet, his stomach clenched and his throat was parched, and the dizziness set in.

Resting his eyes, Henry leaned against the sink of the kitchen, preparing for the worst of the storm. I don't like to think I'm a lightweight, but this fucking sucks… it's only two cans.

Trying to soothe himself, he grips him thumb in hopes to reduce the urge of wanting to vomit anytime soon. The music thumping sent the same vibrations to his head, worsening the effects.

He heard a familiar voice enter the kitchen, though it was drowned out by the party's ambience. Clenching his eyes, Henry's brain ran laps around his skull, not able to sit still.

"I'm telling you, it's just not fair," says a harsh voice, "I can't even spend time with him because he's with his 'girl'. I'm his best friend, damnit!"

That voice. 

Henry squinted his eyes, blurry figures were mobile blobs to him until he blinked a few times to refocus his vision. He saw similar ginger hair, and thought that it was Shade. Without any hesitation, Henry lumbers over and wraps his arms around the figure, words that manage to crumple from his mouth,

"Shade~ you were gone for such a long time!" Henry whines, having a good hold of the figure..

"Henry, get the hell off me!" A male voice barks out in confusion. 

Tripping backwards, Henry's eyes refocus,  fully recognizing the voice. Upon a clearer picture, he mistakes Nexus for Shade.

The orange cat held his ground and glared at him with a contorted stare… his other acquaintance hung beside him. 

"Oh God-" Henry gapes, attempting to blubber out, "Nexus, I'm so sorry, I thought you were Shade."

Instead Nexus grimaces, as if disgusted, only to murmur, "Whatever, dude. Just watch where you're going."

Henry lowers his gaze, his face hot with embarrassment… or from the intoxication.

Nexus' ear twitches, "Are you drunk or something?" His vibrant lime green eyes peer into Henry's soul.

It took Henry a second to properly respond, his mouth visibly stammering, but that gave Nexus his answer already.

"Hey, Nex, I gotta go…" The other kid next to Nexus frowns, gesturing over his shoulder, sending Nexus into a mild frenzy.

"Bro, really?" Nexus grumbles, angry.

The other guy hurries out, leaving just Henry and Nexus hanging about.

With an aggressive flick of his tail, Nexus sighs… going on to leave the room kitchen.

"W-Wait, Nex," Henry slurs, resulting in Nexus to whip around with an annoyed expression.

"What?" He hisses.

He's so hostile…

"Can I hang with you? Just-Just for a little while…?" Henry pleads, barely able to stand up straight, as he leaned against the counter. Nexus peers at him with a disdained glare, studying him up and down...

"You're not gonna throw up, are you?" Nexus muses, unrelated to Henry's question. 

"I dunno," Henry chortled, shrugging.

Idling in the archway, Nexus finally contemplated his thoughts before turning to his drunken companion. 

"Okay, you can chill with me," Nexus exhales, approaching him, "but don't do anything weird again."

This takes Henry back for a moment, as if he was jabbed with a pencil. Just as Henry was about to say something, Nexus waltzes back into the party area…

With an uneasy step, Henry follows after him into the crowd.

For however long they were on the dancing grounds, Nexus bopped with a few people he knew while Henry tried his best to fit in… though the pound of the music made him more queasy. His coordination when it came to dancing was awkward and trying at times, while Nexus and his other companions were "moving".

Dancing at this point was just simply jumping and swaying, but even Henry wasn't able to do it due to how the room was beginning to spin.

Everything was so loud.

His own thoughts were drowned by the blasting Post Malone song…

it made his head hurt, and his mouth began to gather up saliva.

The nausea had set in finally.

Henry started to sweat as he realized what was about to occur, but instead of drawing attention to himself, he bit his thumb in order to stop himself from potentially vomiting…

Nexus hadn't noticed Henry's ill expression, as he was trying to keep his mind in a different place. It was when the female he was dancing with taps him and inaudibly gestures to Henry, who had gained a headstart out of the crowd and exiting the room. 

Irritation drenches Nexus' face, as he dismisses it, glancing over to see Henry's figure disappearing from sight.

I have my own problems to deal with right now, Nexus scowls internally.

That's when it hit Nexus, like a wet sock.

He probably made Henry feel uncomfortable, and this caused him to leave. For a while, Nexus swayed on the thought of it… 

He's a big boy, he shouldn't have his feelings hurt.

The tense presence of guilt hovers over Nexus, despite trying to brush it off, but once the current song was over, he had swam through the heavy crowd of sweaty bodies.

Entering a corridor that connected to the living space, there were hazy clouds of various odors and smells, while couples made out on the side of the hallway.

Nexus knew where the nearest bathroom was, seeing there was a short line… not seeing Henry anywhere, Nexus just cuts to the front and pounds on the door with his hand.

"Henry, are you in there?" Nexus calls through the door, hearing muffled coughing from within.

The people waiting give Nexus dirty looks, as Nexus continues pounding, getting antsy himself. 

"Dude, please come out. A-Are you throwing up?" Nexus ignores the glares and just rests his ear on the door. 

"Someone's been in there for almost like ten minutes already…" said one of the people who waited in line.

With a nervous flick of his tail, Nexus grips the door knob to see if it were locked; it rotated fully. Holding his breath, Nexus pokes his head into the dimly lit bathroom and sees Henry sitting by the toilet, his head hung low.

"Ah shit," Nexus spats, hurrying over to the slumped figure of his friend. Is he that drunk? Nexus goes to check on him

"Henry!" He places a palm on his shoulder, resulting in Henry's muscles and body to contort in response, as he sat up in a frenzy.

Immediately, Nexus goes to settle down his dazed friend, seeing the genuine panic in his grey eyes; his face is red and puffy as if he were crying.

"Fuck, man," Henry groans, squeezing his temples, only for Nexus to stand up beside him and offer to help him to his feet.

Well, it didn't smell like vomit, Nexus though in relief, but he must've left just in case he did.

Slumping over Nexus' shoulder, Henry staggers on to his feet, leaving his supporting weight directly on Nexus; causing it to be rather difficult to even carry him.

With a hard grunt, Nexus manages to remain standing and soon help his drunk companion out of the bathroom. Not even bothering to look at the people waiting, they both head off to someplace a lot more quiet.

The side of the house where some of the bedrooms remained occupied for "various" reasons, but there was an area for the den…

People were going in and out, though for the most part, no one was there.

Nexus let Henry go, allowing him to plop onto the sofa, where he stayed silent.

Going to sit next to him, Nexus spreads out, a few feet from where Henry rested.

A heavy sigh slips from Nexus' nose, allowing himself to sink into the softness of the sofa.

There wasn't that much of an odor, other than cotton candy from a vape, but it was one of the calmest places of the airbnb.

Maybe they weren't allowed in here, but oh well, there wasn't a sign.

The house still shook from the music being played obnoxiously loud, only there being a certain amount of time until someone filed a noise complaint. 

Peering over, Nexus notices Henry's face in a serene state… still clenching his thumb as if his life depended on it.

Filling the silence, Nexus starts by saying,

"How much did you drink tonight?"

There was a delayed reply, when Henry lets out a bleak mumble, "One… tw-two? Probably."

Nexus examines him, seeing how Henry could pull off being sober, but now noticing how lifted off he was, it didn't seem possible. 

"Do you always get drunk?" Nexus was making conversation, not sure how he was going to respond.

Henry bobs his head side to side, rubbing the side of his face. 

"I don't like drinking…" He stifles slowly, his tongue twists over itself, "but I was feeling pretty…"

He doesn't finish his sentence as if he stopped himself…

Nexus starts anticipating,

"Feeling pretty what?"

Resting his head back, he gestures dismissively, "Forget- forget what I said… don't listen to me."

There was a forced chuckle from him, as he placed his palms over his face… 

Nexus was invested, seeing how strange he was acting. 

Henry's thoughts weren't his own, it felt like they could say something completely different. His thoughts were doing relay races, passing each of his emotions around like a baton…

"I dunno where my friends are," Henry whimpers aloud, spilling out nonsense, "I wish I didn't come here."

Nexus' ears twitch with intrigue, only for him to voice genuine concern,

"You didn't come alone?" Nexus questions, hoping he would comprehend what he said. 

"I didn't wanna say no," He pouts.

He's really off the rails, Nexus grimaces, I should help him calm down.

Nexus remembered the two people Henry hung around with constantly, Shade and Fikod… from what he gathered, they brought him along against his will?

Or so Nexus thought, at least.

He's barely able to say complete sentences, Nexus thought, or hold a conversation. I don't think I'll get anything out of him.

"Do you wanna go home?" Nexus asks simply, waiting for a response.

Instead of a straight answer, there were sniffles. 

Never in all the years Nexus had known him, he'd never seen Henry so distraught… or really cry. 

"Why do I feel so lonely here?" Henry croaks out through sniffles, taking his hands off his eyes. 

This struck a nerve in Nexus.

No, he thought, you aren't alone. You're surrounded by so many people… how can you be alone?

Without thinking, Nexus tugs on Henry's hoodie to bring him down to earth.

"Are you hearing yourself?" He spoke sternly, almost snatching Henry's attention.

"What's going on in that head of yours, bud?" Nexus stares him dead in his eyes… 

Henry's head sways, as his eyes met Nexus'. 

"I told youu," Henry whines, "not to worry about it…"

"You're so annoying!" Nexus lashes out, nearly yanking on his hoodie strings. "What the hell is going on with you? I get that you're drunk, but you keep saying these things and it's fucking annoying. What are these subliminal messages? Are you trying to get under my skin? Make me feel bad, is that it?" 

Having shaken him up, Henry's eyes were opened enough to see his pupils dilating, as Nexus fumes with agitation, his nose flares, and his brows furrowed in the dark. 

The bitter words Nexus spat was the product of pent up frustration from throughout the evening…

Brit had ditched Nexus to be with his girlfriend for the whole time, almost involving him as the third wheel. Seeing how much time Brit spends with her, Nexus felt casted aside, nearly a second thought as he was gradually losing his best friend over a girl.

Maybe it wasn't justified, or quite possibly childish for Nexus to have a fit, but he was just so angry over the treatment…

Brit and him had been through thick and thin for the longest time, but now it was tainted by Briana- "the love of my life" according to Brit.

Releasing his frustration on Henry was a mistake, seeing how it definitely shook him to his core. Nexus' chest had puffed up from the outburst, still having a tight grip around Henry's hood strings.

"N-Nexus, I…"

"Shut up." 

The hold of his hoodie strings loosened, Nexus' hand sank to his lap… as if he was overwhelmed by defeat.

The ginger cat's tail curls up, and his ears lower, leaving his expression solemn.

The way his own words left a sour taste in Nexus' mouth causes him to show regret.

There was silence that hovered over them, intensifying into something far more tense.

They had broken eye contact after the burst, but somehow faced each other… Nexus rested his eyes, closing them or a moment. 

Why did I say that? Since when did I become so harsh, Nexus scolds himself.

I'm just so done with everything that's happened tonight, I just want this to be over and done with now.

Even through the vibrant bass of the music that played, Nexus sensed an increased heartbeat… jumping up in anxiety.

Why is Henry so antsy all of a sudden? Nexus opens his eyes.

Henry had begun to pull in close towards his face, abruptly sending Nexus into surprise, only for his face to land on the crook of Nexus' shoulder; making it seem like he chickened out from something.

"What was that about?" Nexus croaks out, feeling sudden heat down his body. Henry shook his head, burying his face deeper into the side of Nexus' neck.

"I couldn't do it, I couldn't do it, I couldn't do it…" Henry murmurs under his breath, which Nexus clearly heard.

Instead of acknowledging it, Nexus just sat there with Henry slumped into his shoulder, with many thoughts facing through his brain.

Conflicted emotions, similar to the way he felt about Brit…

He weirdly enjoyed Henry's comfort, Nexus had a feeling that there was something more. A pair of Henry's arms had made its way around Nexus' waist, alerting chills up his spine.

What is this feeling? Nexus muses, the heat progresses to his face.

"First, you were crying," Nexus comments, "now you're being clingy?"

The way Henry's breathing brought up the feeling again made Nexus wanna squirm, yet continue along with this...

[ka-za-ri]

Can I be super selfish and ask for some Blind!Ignis angsty/fluff, with f!s/o. Perhaps dealing with him learning to cook again and s/o helps him out. Or whatever your lovely mind comes up with! I have a huge weakness for blind Iggy.

First! I need to thank you for this request and all the kind support you’ve given _>  Hope you enjoy it! Some suggested listening for your enjoyment: 第幾個100天 (The Hundredth Day) -- JJ Lin 

"I'msorry to have to bother you like this, dearest."

"Ignis,please. It's not a bother. This is the least I can do to help you." Youexplained, bandaging his fingers up from another accident in the kitchen.

Theinjuries had become more frequent lately and you could feel his frustrationmounting whenever his knife slipped or if he knocked something over. Ignis wasnot one to admit he needed assistance, his pride wouldn't let him do such athing. He was determined to make himself useful again, and seeing him breakdown whenever he slipped was more than enough to tear at your heart. Truly, theleast you could do was bandage his cut fingers and offer him reassurance.

Youwatched him as he flexed his hands, testing the bandages and making sure he hadthe ideal amount of mobility. Wordlessly, he got up and was once again in thekitchen, fingers gently tapping across the countertops as he internally countedhis steps and found himself again in front of the cutting board.

"Dinnerwill be a bit late tonight. I'm sorry."

"It'sokay, Ignis. Take all the time you need." You reassured, settling down atthe bar across from him to watch him.

By theend of the night though, the two of you shared a rather solemn meal of reheatedleftovers. While Ignis didn't say anything about it, you could feel thefrustration emanating from his stiff shoulders and the almost hour-long showerhe took that night.

~~

Ignishad memorized the layout of your shared apartment shortly after he came back. Hehad been able to fluidly move about for the most part in every other roomwithin two weeks, except for the kitchen. It pained you to see him shuffleabout awkwardly while his fingers tracing the number of plates stacked in thecabinets. He'd stumble as he tried to memorize the feeling of the kinds ofstemware he owned and cried when he couldn't remember which mug was yourfavorite for hot chocolate.

For allhe did for the word, he had been rewarded with darkness for the rest of hislife. To say it hurt you to see Ignis struggle wordlessly would be unfair tohim. Despite all that you did for him, he shouldered a burden that was heavierthan anything you could imagine. You knew how dear his kitchen was for him. Afterall, the living space you shared was chosen because of the elaborate kitchen itboasted.

Nowthough, it seemed to taunt him daily. Every time he was in there, you ended upbinding up another cut, or helping him sweep up something that spilled. Igniswasn't a person to show his emotions, however, the deep, shuddering breaths hewould take when he cried in his sleep was all you needed to know what he feltabout his whole situation. It tore at you on the inside until one day, youcouldn't take it anymore and did the unforgivable.

~~

"Dearest,where are my knives?"

"....They're where they usually are." You had hoped the momentary pause wouldgo unnoticed. Blind though he may be, he was as perceptive as ever.

"No,they're not. I'll ask you again. Where are my knives?"

As muchas you wanted to lie to him, there was an edge to his tone that prevented youfrom doing so. "I... I put them away." You whispered. You knew hecouldn't see you from where you sat, but still, you couldn't look him in the face.You could only imagine his expression when he heard your confession.

"Why?"He breathed, you didn't need to see his expression to sense that any sadness heheld had turned into hard, steely anger.

"I'mtired, Ignis." you explained, you hadn't realized it, but the tears youhad held back for so long had started to fall.

"You'retired?" He repeated.

"Ican't see you hurt yourself like this."

"Whosaid you could touch my knives."

"Ionly wanted to prot---"

"Who.Said. You. Could. Touch. My. Knives." Every word he said was punctuated bya step in your direction.

"Ignis,please."

Hestopped in front of you, the stare you received from his one opened eye sentshivers down your spine and left you paralyzed. His lips had pressed themselvesinto a thin line and you noticed how tense his forearm muscles were from theclenched fists at his side. The next words that fell from his lips stabbed youdeeper than any knife would ever could.

"Getout."

~~

Threedays into crashing at Gladio's place, your eyes and mind a wreck fromconstantly crying, you had come to the conclusion that everything between youand Ignis had come to an end. No matter how many gentle back rubs and words ofreassurance Gladio offered would set your mind at ease. You were sure youhadn't slept much at all in the last few days. All the crying you did duringthe day hurt your eyes too much to keep them closed for any meaningful amountof time at night.

Fivedays into not seeing Ignis since that fateful night and you were sorely wishingthat you could turn back time to undo your mistake. Rash decisions had alwaysbeen your downfall before and your last one less than a week ago had onlycemented this fact further.

One weeklater and a proper knock at Gladio's door set your heart fluttering. Threeknocks, equally timed and at the exact same pitch. You had run to open the doorbefore Gladio could make it there. There, Ignis stood at the door, his normallyslicked back hair was more than a little messy. Dark circles were visible fromunderneath his visors and your breath caught just a little at how unkempt helooked.

"Ignis..."

"Comehome, please. I'm sorry for what I said... I wasn't in the right mind when Isaid it."

"No,Ignis, please, don't apologize, I should be saying that for what I did toyou."

"Dearest,let's forget about that for now. Come home with me?"

Youdidn't need words to answer him as you laced your hand into his while yourheart pounded from happiness in your ears. Though it had only been a week sinceyou last saw him, it felt like an eternity had passed since you had last felthis warmth. The entire walk home was silent, but you didn't mind it at all. Tohave Ignis within your reach again like this, you would have been fine if henever spoke another word to you.

~~

"Yourknife cuts are the worst."

"Look,just because I haven't spent half of my life cooking does not mean I have theworst knife cuts." you retorted. Ignis had his arms wrapped around you,hands just ghosting above your own as you chopped vegetables for dinner thatnight. "I'm still doing a lot better than Noctis would have."

"Thatmuch, I can confirm." He said with a soft chuckle. "But that doesn'tmean that your own handiwork is good. You've got a long way to go before you'reas good as I am." His calloused fingers wrapped themselves around yourhand, adjusting your grip slightly. "Come now, you're not even holding theknife correctly." He chided.

"Well,I hope that you'll be here for my whole long journey to being as good as youare." You said with a giggle, getting back to chopping up the vegetablesin front of you while you let his hands memorize the movements and the distanceof your hands from the blade.

"Ofcourse. I wouldn't have it any other way." He said softly, kissing you onthe cheek and resting his head on your shoulder.

Thatnight, the two of you shared a meal cooked with warm hugs and tender whispersof love.

[jess-irenes-fics]

A/N: Okie several things. The baby photo is of myself because I looked online and I don’t know why but I just feel slightly uncomfortable using photos of other people’s children, also, I was bald as a peach but a lot cuter back then, look at the big eyes (from back when they were still blue lol) and the baldness. Thankyou for helping me brainstorm this @lizwinchester16. As I often do, I may add some things from real life.

*takes place in 96-97*

Summary/Prologue: Dean thought he was just having a bit of fun in the school janitor’s closet but that fun led to him being a father at 18 (and a half), half’s didn’t really count that is unless your child is born exactly one day after your half birthday. Six months later, after Dean and the child’s mother, try to care for her, he is left alone to raise the girl; her mother passes. Now, with a baby, and the life of a hunter, Dean has some deductions to make. He and Sammy, whom he was looking after, had been able to stay in one place for those months and Dean has managed to keep Sammy from worrying about his drama but now John was back and he knew they couldn’t stay....and John finds about the baby, he doesn’t like her, not one bit. Dean knows he has to do something....

~~Okie, I was writing this on my mobile and I was about half done writing the actual story, which was beautiful as fuck, and once again, I saved a draft and went to get the glass of water that I had in the freezer getting cold because babe is  babe is getting seen for her heart condition and she scolded me being worried about my habits lately, I come back and oohh shocker~ once again it was deleted and I have to type it over so I am a little pissed, and the water spilled on me. So anyway, as I often have to do I am retyping it all on the desktop now.~~

Dean sat on the edge of the motel bed holding her up on his knee as she looked up at him with her huge baby blues, her thumb in her mouth. Her mother had been gone for a week now. She would stay with her grandmother while the two, Dean and her mother were in school then they would care for her at night,now Dean kept her during the day while Sam was in school; like now. Sam didn't even know that Dean had knocked a girl up or that he had a baby. Dean still managed to take care of Sammy, and his little girl. She didn’t have a name, both he and her mother had a lot on their plates with school, taking care of her, Sam, and her sick grandmother, as well as Dean working odd jobs when he could. They had somehow made it all work so far, it helped that John had been away the entire time and Dean knew that he’d be back any time now. He pulls her tiny hand away from her mouth and gently brings it to his, kissing it. 

It was at that moment the door opened, just like that, John stepped in. Dean holds her to his chest in an embrace and holds her head with his hand so it won’t dangle and he stands. 

“Dad” he licks his lips, John had yet to look over and see her. Dean steps closer, holding the baby tight. “You’ve been gone-” “Sam still alive?” , John intrudes. “Yeah, I have been with him, ‘course my brother is alive” 

John finally turns his head upward. “...Dean....that a baby?” 

“Yeah-”

“Why the hell do you have it?” 

“Her. Funny story actually-” Dean tilts his head, smiling and opening his mouth to speak. “Yours.” “Yes....her mom died last week” “Dean get rid of her!” “Dad-” “You heard me!” 

Dean looks at her head resting on his shoulder then swallows a lump in his throat. 

“Well....how have you been caring for her?” 

“Her mother and I would watch her after school, during the day her grandmother would, but now I watch her in the day and she is there at night.”

“How have you been providing?” John tilts his head as he steps closer and takes her, He bounces her. “Your brother know?” 

Dean’s nose flares up and he licks his lips. “No. I find odd jobs”

“Well she deserves better than this life Dean!!.......” John sighs and looks at his granddaughter. He smiles just for a brief second and kisses her cheek. “Take her to her grandma’s for now....I found a case a few towns out....I guess we will figure it out later” he hands her back to her father. 

Dean takes her. “Yes sir...” he knew John was right. He grabs her back and walks to her mother and grandmother’s house to drop her off. 

On the case with John, he can’t focus, John nudges him when he must have zoned out. 

“Who are you again?” the woman asks. 

“Agent Korn, this is Agent Weezer” John smiles and Dean follows suit. 

“Oh,yes, I am Marie Lynn, I am  sorry about the mess, I haven’t been able to pull myself together since what happened to my husband.”

“That is understandable. I didn’t know you had a child?” John asks noticing baby things. 

“No....almost, we tried for a very long time”

“I-other than what we know, you mentioned that just before hearing him scream and finding his body you smelled a stench?” 

“Y-Yes....strange, it was like Sulfur?” 

“Thank you....” John responds before smiling and going to the car. 

Dean stays. “H-How long had you been trying....?” “.....five years....we came so close this time” 

“I can’t imagine how that feels....” Dean answers honestly, looking into her spare room with a high chair, a bassinet and a play pin along with giant bags of things. He had grown attached to his little girl in the time he had known her. John honks beckoning him. “I...have to go....” he leaves. 

On the ride back to town and picking Sam up from school, not even his brother’s excitement to seeing his father can jar his thoughts. 

“....drop me off here...” he says once back in town. 

John stops, he couldn’t care less why, Dean was a big boy. Dean steps out and sits on  a bench to think, he didn’t know how long he sat there but it was dark. He assumed John took Sam to do the salt and burn and they had figured it all out so they would be fine without him. He walks back to the house to get the baby. 

“Dean?” her grandmother asks. 

“Yes ma’am.....I came to take her home....”

“Isn’t Sam home?”

“Yes,he is...thank you...” Dean kisses her grandmother’s cheek before grabbing his little girl and her bag of things, including her mother’s hand me down baby clothes her grandmother had saved. 

“thank you too Dean”

“What for?....I just made a ton of mistakes”

“Yes but Dean...we all have, you always have choices....some of them are wrong, some are right” 

Dean nods and blinks, forcing a smile as she goes up her stairs and he leaves, walking back to the hotel and getting John’s spare keys, the cemetery wasn’t far so his dad didn’t need it, he drives to Marie’s home. 

She opens the door. “Agent Weezer?” “...may  I come in?” “...sure?” 

She lets him in. “.....okay, I am...not a agent, but that it is all I can tell you....this is my daughter, I have no idea what I am doing and she would be better here with you.”

It takes Marie a moment to process. “you are.....giving me a child...” 

Dean gulps swallowing the lump in his throat again, it was his pride, and some tears. “Yes ma’am....I wasn’t trying, you were, and....just because you love someone doesn’t mean you should stick around and screw their life up....besides, it is the gift that you are missing....” 

“but her mother....” “....she passed last week....what do you say, keep her?”

Marie slowly reaches out grabbing the baby but Dean rears back. “I will need a answer first....” “Yes, thank you...” , she smiles. 

Dean kisses the child’s head, then lets Marie take her. Marie hugs her. “....what is her name?” “....she doesn’t have one...” he shrugs “But I call her Bug...”

“Well....I will have to fix that.....and who are you?” “.....My name is Dean....I will write...but I don’t think she should know about me”. With those words Dean sat the baby bag on the floor and he left. 

He did. He kept his word, he wrote Marie as often as he could, thankfully she never moved. For twenty year, he wrote each month, he learned she had named his daughter Adeline. For twenty years on each Valentine’s Day he sent them roses, so she would know how beautiful she was. She still didn’t know him, Sam still didn’t know about her. He learned quite a deal about Adeline, she had gone through some things that he was glad he missed. He learned that her eyes did’t stay blue, they developed the pigment of brown, and when she cried they morphed to a vibrant green like his, he had seen photos once a year when Marie sent them. She was better there, even during the times he was glad he missed. Twenty years and Adeline hadn’t wrote, until now. 

Dear Dad, 

             It’s me Addy Bug. I wanted to say, thank you. I also wanted you to know that I know about you now because mom wants you to meet not only me, but, my fiance. I ma engaged, I would love for you to walk me down the aisle, if you don’t then I understand but I will be waiting. I loved the flowers you sent, when she told me they were all from you I couldn’t believe it. I don’t know why you did what you did, I really don’t care, I get it. My birthday, mom found it when you left me I guess my birth mother wrote me a letter, or my grandmother did, I am not sure, but it told me all about you. I read it recently when mom decided it was time, you could not have left me with anyone better. My wedding, it is on my birthday, it is New York City, I wrote the info down, I really will be waiting. That is all I wanted, I love you. Hugs and kisses, Bug. 

[suzenka]

Birthday Gift

Finally. After all the time. I wrote something!!!! And it’s Westworld AU again. Sorry, but I like them. And also sorry for all the mistakes and nonsenses which actually mean something in my language :D

- Turn him on -

Treville smiled when he opened his eyes. He was in the room again. In Cardinal's office. The one under The Paris, the one which had the secret door leading to the bedroom and bathroom. Trevill liked this place. He was safe there and the Cardinal was there too. Always.

„Hello, Treville.“

„Hi,“ he smiled and waited until he could turn his head to the Cardinal. „How are you?“

„Oh....Well, quite good. You know. I have some work to do. I also have free time and the possibility to take you here. And you are a nice companion,“ Armand said and looked at the android sitting on the chair. First times he was waking Treville up on the table, but it seemed to scare Trevill a little bit. Armand changed it on a chair near his working desk. It was much better. „But normally I ask questions first.“

„I am sorry. But I wanted to know how are you today,“ Treville smiled and finally turned his head. He saw the Cardinal in his red suit. He always looked so formally.

„I don't blame you for that. I don't blame you for anything,“ Armand chuckled and closed a little panel on Treville's head. „It is nice that you want to know things.“

„I know. You told me few times,“ Treville interrupted the Cardinal and looked around the office. Still the same. Maybe a little bit bare. Yes, there were some pictures and arts but it still looked so plain and dark. Treville wouldn't like to work there.

„People should know necessary things,“ Armand said and sank down into his armchair.

„Why did you wake me up?“ Treville inquired and straightened up when the Cardinal rose his head. With that, he also covered his groin. Maybe he should ask for some clothing next time. He didn't like being naked in front of people. Even though they were special for him.

„Because I wanted to have some company. And I like your company,“ Armand answered and took a paper to start another work. He had a lot of things to do and he had to go on a dinner with Toby too. Armand thought that there was too little time for all of his work and meetings. It would be much easier if he let Treville rest. But he wanted to have this android near. And as he said he liked captain's company.

„But you have to work. You usually do it. Or do you have some strange mood when you don't want to do anything?“ Treville asked and smiled.

„No. I really have some work to do and also I have an appointment and people to meet, but let's say I felt lonely,“ Armand said and opened one of his diaries to have a look what he had to do that day. Treville nodded and took a look too.

„You have a lot of things to do,“ he said sadly and took the diary. Armand didn't protest.

„Yes, but it's normal. I have another one especially for The Paris if you wanted to ask,“ Armand murmured and started to write a message for the chief of security. They were quiet, Armand writing and Treville looking through the diary.

„What date is today?“ Treville asked after some time.

„Tenth September.“

„You have an appointment with some Toby at six o'clock,“ Treville murmured and pointed his finger on the paper where the Cardinal had marked time for the meeting.

„Yes. But I have about half an hour before the start. And Toby can wait,“ Armand smiled and remembered the one time he had to wait for her two hours.

„Ah... Are you going to have a dinner? Or something like that?“ Treville asked disappointedly.

„Yes, dinner. Toby chooses. And after that, I have to find Kate and tell her about the new program. The one thanks to which you can learn new things. It's still a secret. But also if it works it would mean that we could have more than just one day in The Paris. And that would be amazing.“

„Interesting. Hmm... would it mean that I could have memories for more than just one day?“ Treville asked curiously.

„Yes. We would have to program new dialogues and other things. But more days mean more experience,“ Armand smiled a little bit and read few times the message he wrote.

„That's nice. And why do you have a dinner with Toby?“

„I had a birthday yesterday and she wanted to celebrate it with me. I am just afraid that she will give me a gift containing genitals. She does it sometimes,“ Armand murmured and tried not to remember the first gift he got from her.

„Oh...So she's not your... wife, or mistress?“

„No,“ Armand chuckled. „No, of course, she's not. I don't have wife or mistress. I have a lot of work. That's enough. Why did you ask?“

„I just wanted to know,“ Treville smiled and then he stood up. He went to the bedroom with Cardinal's gaze on his back. Then he got back and held few sheets of paper. He laid them down on the desk.

„Happy birthday. I hope you'll like them,“ Treville said. „I draw them few meetings ago when you were sleeping. I am sorry that I don't have anything better.“

„You don't have to be sorry,“ Armand took the sheets and looked at them. They were drawings of random things. The first one was a flower, probably the one he had on a nightstand. The second was Armand himself sitting behind his desk. The third was he again, sleeping wrapped in a blanket.

„Do you like them?“ Treville asked carefully as he watched the Cardinal.

„Of course I like them. Did you draw them by yourself?“

„Yes. When you were sleeping. I hope you're not angry,“ Treville muttered the last sentence and sat down on the chair again.

„How could I be angry. You draw this even though you are not supposed to draw. You learned a new skill just by yourself. And that's amazing. It means that the program works even better than I expected,“ Armand said enthusiastically and nearly laughed. He was so happy. Treville smiled and watched the Cardinal as he was going through the drawings.

„If I knew you were going to have the birthday I would draw something much much better than this. These are terrible,“ Trevill noted.

„Well... You can't blame yourself for not drawing like a master. You just started and had little of time. But still. It's amazing,“ Armand pointed out cheerfully.

„Alright. So which one do you like the most?“ Treville asked and took few sheets, the ones he thought were really bad. Armand stood quietly for a while and went through the papers.

„I think this one,“ he showed the one with drawing of few people at the Court. There were no details, not even faces, it was the simple one Trevill drew in the end.

„And why?“

„Well, I think it's simple but it also illustrates things you wanted to draw. Or the people. I like those simple drawings. It's actually the only style I can draw in,“ The Cardinal told him and looked around the office. „Maybe I could hang it somewhere in here.“

„Only if you want to,“ Treville smiled. Armand stood up and went with the sheet to the light part of one of the walls. He put it on the wall and the paper remained there.

„I think this is a good place,“ Armand said and returned back to the desk.

„If you like it,“ Treville murmured and stood up too. He caught the Cardinal's arm and kissed the hand.

„Is this another part of your gift for me?“ Armand asked and stroked androids cheek.

„Yes. And also this.“ Treville kissed Armand. His lips were always a little bit cold and Treville felt something. Maybe a tea? He didn't know but he liked the moment. Just as Armand did.

Ringing on the desk started and interrupted the kissing pair. Armand pulled away and took a look on his mobile phone. It was Toby. And it was six already.

„I am sorry. I have to go,“ Armand said sadly and kissed Treville one more time.

„That's ok. You have a lot of work. I will stay here and maybe read something,“ Treville smiled.

„Well, no. I can't let you turned on while I am not here. Sorry.“ Treville nodded and sat down on the chair. He smiled and kissed Armand's hand.

- Turn him off -

[fanficcollection]

Promotion Work (Part 2)

Promotion Work (series) Part 1

Pairing: Rob Benedict x reader Summary: your first week of work and some phone calls coming in Word Count: 2968 Warnings: swearing (a little)

Notes: I’m not a native english-speaker, so please don’t hate me for my mistakes. 

 The next week wasn’t very exciting, you had a good start with the two women, who kept the station running and you have never seen anyone else there. As expected most of your work wasn’t very entertaining, but at least you learned many things about the everyday life of a radio station. You helped Cloe with the technical stuff sometimes and did some paperwork. From time to time you caught yourself thinking about the cute singer with the bright, fascinating eyes. The one from the band, which visited on your first day, Rob. You didn’t catch his last name and in the heat of the actions you didn’t even memorized the name of the band. And to be honest you didn’t expect to see them again anytime soon or even remember you. You would get over it, you just buried yourself in your work to keep you busy, there were always some things to do.

When you tried to organize some paperwork the other day, you flipped through some papers which looked like contract to be sorted in, normally contracts were none of your business, this one must have slipped into your things. You took it and read the first lines to get the subject, it was from a band and on the second glance you recognized the name “Louden Swain”. This was it.  You smiled and typed the name into the notes on your mobile to remember it for later when you would listen to some of their songs. The ones they played when they were here were very catchy, it was worth a try. Maybe, if you liked their music, you could look out for concert dates, just to see them again…

Later that day, when you had were at home, you looked the band up and in the first picture you saw you instantly remembered them, especially the sea-blue eyes of the lead singer. You downloaded the complete new album to your MP3-Player, it was nice, many different styles, some songs quite smooth and relaxed and others full of power. You loved the range of different types they offered the audience. After that you put in your ear-plugs and listened to the songs the whole evening, while cooking, while doing your laundry and while scrolling through your social media profiles. Every now and then your thoughts went to the evening in the bar, to Rich, who was such a funny guy, who could make you laugh endlessly and to Rob. Rob, who was a bit shyer, a bit more secret, but he had the warmest smile you have ever seen, and eyes you could drown in within a second. And then, when you got to this point in your mind you shook your head and smiled to yourself, here you were, fantasizing about some guy you met once and you will probably never meet again.

Next day was a Friday, your first week of work was nearly over as you got a call in the office. Cloe and Liz were doing the program so you answered the phone, it was part of your job, most times there was nothing important, some advertisement-companies, or some people who wanted to say something on the radio. “Radio Station One, how can I help you?” you said your standard phrase. “Y/N, is this you?” a voice without any kind of introduction. “Yes, but who is there?” you asked a bit confused. “It’s Rich, you know, I was at your workplace last weekend with ‘Louden Swain’, Y/N, is there any chance you can be in Chicago within the next hour?” he asked, he sounded a bit desperate. You checked the time, it was not exactly late enough for you to leave, but he sounded like he really needed something from you, so you decided to head out, there were just approximately two hours of todays worktime left, you would work it in next week. “I’m on my way, but Rich, what’s up, why do you want me up there?” you asked him while packing your things to get going. “It’s an emergency, I have no time to explain now, but please hurry. I’ll give you my number so you can call me when you are here, you have something to write?” he continued talking and waited then until you had a piece of paper and a pen, then he dictated you a phone number and you wrote it down and put the paper in your pocket. “Okay, I will call you when I’m there.” You told him and exited the building and hurried to your car. “Thanks so much, Y/N, I don’t know how to thank you. I’ll see you here soon.” He said, then he told you the address of an hotel in Chicago where you would meet and ended the call.

Maybe you were crazy, but on the other hand you were the person, who helped friends when they needed it, and somehow you considered Rich as a friend, even if you just met him one time, and he certainly seemed like he needed your help. The hour to Chicago seemed like an eternity, but when you were there and you had found the location Rich told you, you quickly looked for a parking space and dialled the number Rich gave you. “Y/N?” he asked. “Yeah, I’m here, but there are loads of people checking in, there is some kind of convention. For a TV show or something like that.” You answered and heard him chuckle “What?” you asked. “So you found the right location, the convention starts soon, walk up to the gold-ticket check in, I’ll pick you up there. Hurry up!” He told you and you shook your head, what does he mean, why was he here, what was happening? “Rich, what do you do here? What do I do here?” you asked confused “Do you want to mess around with me? I’m not here to watch a convention of a show I don’t know. I risked my job for that, Richard.” A bit of anger came up in you. “No, no… It’s an emergency, really. I’ll explain it to you in person, please, come in.” he begged and you gave in “Okay, I hope for you that I didn’t drive up here for no reason.” You calmed down and went into the convention center, passed the lines and went to the Gold Ticket entrance, just like Rich told you, when you stood there some volunteers asked you for your ticket, and you shook your head “I don’t have a ticket, Richard said he would pick me up here. “ in this moment you realized you didn’t even know Richs last name, but for some reason the lady didn’t ask, she just smiled and said “I’m sorry, I know many of you want to be invited personally, but without a ticket or a direct order it isn’t possible for me to let you in.” you got more and more confused, then you saw Rich standing just a few feet away, you waved him, but he obviously didn’t see you. “Please stop that.” The volunteer said strictly and you stopped, then your phone rang, you saw Richs Number flash up on your display and quickly answered the call. “Hey.” You said “Hey sugar, where are you? I’m waiting here.” He told you and you laughed. “What?” he asked and you just answered teasingly “Turn around, I’m right behind you.” The moment after you said that, he turned around and looked the crowd for you, you waved again, although you catch the insulting glance from the volunteer. Eventually he saw you and headed in your direction, good, you stood here long enough, also you were a bit embarrassed by standing here without a ticket. When he got over, you smiled and reached out to hug him, but the volunteer hold you back “Please, Lady, go back or I will call the securities.” She threatened, you saw Rich smirk and reach out for you. “It’s okay, she is with me.” He said to the volunteer, whose eyes suddenly widened “W-what.. Wait..” she stuttered. You just smiled lightly and hugged Rich back, when he pulled you into a hug. “Nice to see you again, Y/N, come in.” he said and guided you past the volunteer. Some fans, who acted like they knew Rich and he waved them shortly before focussing on you again. “Rich, why are we here? What do you do here? Why do they all know you?” you asked while he guided you into a big room full of chairs and with a stage, some guys were working on the instruments. “You are our last hope, Y/N. Dylan, our audio guy had an accident today and is in hospital, he will be well, but as you see there is the convention going on and no one has experience with the technic-stuff.”  He explained “We called some companies, but nobody could send us someone to fix the technic, and without the right audio settings the convention will be crap.” You looked at him blankly “What? What role do you even play in this whole convention thing?” you said raising your eyebrows looking at him. “Actually I’m one of the hosts, but there is less than half an hour left, do you think you can make sure that everything is working?” he answered with a smile “Please?” You stared at him, but then slowly nodded. “Okay?” you said slowly “Show me, I’ll do what I can. What do you need exactly?” you told him and looked around in the room. You never did the tech-work for a live band, but it looked a lot like the things you had in the studio, so you figured out what to do quickly. You started a sound check with all of the instruments. After a short time everything seemed to work, Rich stood next to you when you finished it and you said “Everything is working, I think.” He looked at you surprised, but then nodded happily “Thanks so much, Y/N. You saved us.” He hugged you and you smiled “Nothing to thank for.” you smiled “Don’t talk yourself down, you are a true angel. Wanna grab a drink in the greenroom?” he asked but before he could lead you to the greenroom, he saw the handler waving. “Oh, shit. Would you mind staying around until the panel is over, I can get you a seat if you are interested?” he smiled innocent. You didn’t realized what was happening, everything went so fast you couldn’t even say no, Rich pulled you in the front row and showed you a chair, which wasn’t occupied by now. “There are always some seats free, I have to go backstage. Please, just wait here, I’ll pick you up after the panel.” He smiled at you and you just sat down, more and more fans were coming into the room, excitingly chatting, you didn’t know what to expect so you just watched the fans and suddenly a band got on the stage, everybody started to applaud. At the beginning they played some soft tunes, and in the next moment Rob was on the stage and you immediately stared at him. Suddenly the scales fell from your eyes, you recognized the band, Louden Swain. Rob started to sing a song you didn’t really know, then Rich came on the stage, but they were not guys you knew. They were show masters, joking around, laughing, playing with the crowd.

You couldn’t stop staring. That was unexpected. Exactly in that moment of surprise Rob looked in your direction and caught your gaze. He also looked a bit surprised, turned back to Rich and whispered something to him, Rich laughed and said something back, the mic silenced so you couldn’t hear what he said. A second later Rob nodded, glanced at you again, threw you a smile and then turned back to the audience. The two of played around some more and then introduced some women, called Kim, Ruth and Briana. You didn’t know them. Shortly after the two men left the stage a guy came over to you, asked you to follow him, so you did. He guided you out of the hall and in some area, where no fans were allowed. Soon you saw Rich and Rob in the hall, you thanked the guy, who brought you here and went to the two men. “Hey you.” You greeted them. Rob smiled shyly, now he was the Rob you got to know a week before, you could tell that by just one look. Smiling, you pulled Rob into a hug, just like Rich did with you before. “Hey, Y/N” he whispered you back “Nice to see you, did you like the show?” he asked then, he seemed a bit unsecure. “Wow. Yeah, totally. But you have to explain that.” You told them “I thought you were a band, what are you doing at a convention for a TV-show?” they started laughing at the same time. “Yeah… Let’s get something to drink first.” Rich said and guided you into a room with some chairs, sofas, and so on, it looked cozy. “You want a beer?” Rich asked you, but you refused “I have to drive home, you know. So no alcohol.” You explained, he nodded and gave you a soda. “So, back to the story, why are you at a….” you looked at a poster, which hung on the door - to get the name of this event - “…Supernatural-Convention?”

So they started to explain that they were actors on the show, they just had done some episodes, but still the fans love them, so they were going on conventions like this. They also told you that Louden Swain was kind of the ‘house band’ of such conventions and they were quite well known within the fandom. You listened carefully, you never were very enthusiastic about a TV-series, to be honest you never had enough time to watch a lot of TV, you had to make a living and that was kind of hard besides studying. Although, what they told you about the passionate fandom sounded very nice.

Suddenly another guy came into the room - the green room as you were told- “Oh, Rob, Rich, I was looking fo- Oh.. who is that lovely, young lady?” he looked at you, then smiled and introduced himself “Bonjour, mon amour, I’m Sebastian.” You smiled and blushed a bit because of the compliment he made you “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you Sebastian” you said.  Faster than you could react he pulled you into a hug and kissed you cheeks. Then he let go of you and looked at the men. “Trying to hide this beautiful girl from us?” he laughed and sat next to Rich. “It would have been better, then she wouldn’t have met you.” Rich teased. “She is shocked for her life, I think” he added looking at your glowing red face. Sebastian playfully hit Rich on the shoulder, then turned to you and started to apologize “I’m sorry, mon petit coeur, I didn’t want to scare you.” He smiled. “Uhh. No problem..” you said shyly and looked away. “So you are staying here for the weekend?” Sebastian asked and you, that caught your attention “This is the whole weekend?” you asked a bit embarrassed to be so uninformed, you looked to Rob, who gave you a warm smile “Yes, today is just like a ‘warm-up’-day” he explained. “So you need someone for the technic all weekend?” you asked Rich, he shortly thought about it and then nodded. “If this is possible for you it would be nice.” He answered “Of course you can watch all the panels and hang out here with us. You clearly saved our asses today. ” you didn’t know how to respond, you clearly didn’t plan to spend your weekend at a convention for a TV-show you didn’t even know, but on the other hand, why not? It was just a one hour drive from home and you had the possibility to get to know these guys. “Okay, I think I’m good with it.” You accepted and smiled. “But you have to explain this show to me, I don’t know anything about it and what I witnessed was awkward. Really awkward. Like somebody carried a knife, which looked like a jaw bone of some kind of animal. All three of them started laughing. “Yeah, there will be time to explain this.” Rich told you and when you glanced at Rob he again shot you this smile, this special one, which made your stomach turn.

You had to force yourself to look away and the conversation turned to something that happened on the last convention. You followed the talking, but your eyes were glued to Rob, you tried to watch him without attracting his, or anyones, attention. Maybe Rob felt your glance on him, because sometimes he looked at you, but you tried to escape his gaze, turned away your eyes every time he looked at you, you didn’t want to be caught staring. Soon there was a guy, who picked him and Rich up to sing a good-bye to the women on the stage. In that moment you were completely sunk in your observations of Rob until Rich snapped his fingers in front of your face, you jumped lightly “Earth to Y/N.. You here again?” he teased “Rob and I have to go on stage; we’re coming back in a few minutes. See you then.” He said and you just nodded silently, completely embarrassed, you could nearly feel the blush rise into your face. That was a great start in the weekend, caught staring at the attractive singer and actor, you could hit yourself for it.

Part 3

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