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buckyshoneybunny · 7 days

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Their Babydoll

WinterWidow + Shy!Stark!Curvy!reader

Summary- Bucky and Natasha take a liking to the shy designer.

W.C.- 2212

Warnings- Smut, fluff, cursing, unprotected sex, oral (fem, reader), cum eating, let me know if I missed anything.

A/N- I hope you guys like! Sorry if the smut sucks, I was tired lol. I know these fics are usually Bucky x Reader x Steve but I would want Nat more. Anyway I already have an idea for a new series and it includes Biker Bucky! Not proof read, all mistakes are mine. Hope you enjoy it my lovelies!

Masterlist

“Please Uncle Tony!” You beg for the hundredth time.

“No,” he says, not even looking up from the device he was tweaking.

“But-”

“No,” he interrupts you.

You stick your bottom lip out and give your best puppy eyes. It would always work when you were younger. Now though?

“No”

You groan and cross your arms. You smile to yourself. “You know, Aunt Pepper has been wondering what happened to her-”

“Okay! Okay,” he sighs and pushes the protective glasses further up his nose as he looks at you. “There’s no need to bring Pepper into this.”

You giggle and lean your hip against the table he’s working at. “You always were afraid of Aunt Pepper.”

“I’m not afraid of her,” he huffs. “I just happen to have a healthy amount of respect for her.”

“You’re afraid of her, Tony,” Bruce pipes up from across the lab.

You giggle as Tony sends you and Bruce a glare.

“Why do you even want to use the holographic interfaces?” Tony asks.

“Because it would make designing floor plans so much easier! Using your tech would help me with the critical parts of my job.”

“But you don’t even know how to use them.”

“You could teach me.”

“But I don’t hav-” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he huffs.

You squeal and hug him. “Thank you, Uncle Tony!”

He pats your arm, “Yeah yeah.”

Most people didn’t know Tony had a sister; hell no one knew he actually had any siblings until you showed up with your stuff one rainy day.

Freshly 19 and ready to make a name for yourself in the world of Interior Design, you’d moved to New York thinking this was the best place to do so.

Your mother, Tony’s younger sister only by a few years, called to express her worry of you moving there and being alone.

So, Tony being the ever so giving person he is, and a few not-so-subtle threats from your mother, told you that you could stay at the Avengers Tower. You were furious, ranting about how you wanted to make it on your own and didn’t need any help. But when he mentioned you’d get to meet and spend time with the Avengers, you quickly got over it.

You were so excited to meet the Avengers, you’d always had a major crush on Bucky. You even wrote a paper about him for your history class in the 6th grade. His sparkling steel blue eyes taking you captive. You wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through his shoulder length brown hair, hoping it’s as soft as it looks. And you can’t forget those full, pink lips that could make a gal melt like butter on hot asphalt.

But he was taken, by your second favorite Avenger, Natasha Romanoff. You definitely had a girl crush on her. She was so strong and skilled, every womans idol. She was the reason you tried and failed at learning how to fight. So what if you were thicker than the other girls? Yeah okay, you had thick thighs, a pudgy, soft stomach and flabby arms, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t learn some moves like the other girls. To be fair though, that instructor was a womanizer.

He said, and I quote, that you’d ‘never make it anywhere in life looking like that’. Boy did you prove him wrong. You were one of the best Interior Designers in New York, you had a special touch that other designers didn’t have. And you loved your job, you loved bringing peoples dreams to life and seeing the joy on their face.

You enjoyed it, but it wasn’t always easy. The meticulous planning, writing up contracts, getting a crew for certain aspects in and out on time could be grueling at times, but seeing the looks on your client’s faces when they’d see the finished product was always worth it.

You had been worried when you first got to the Tower, worried the other Avengers wouldn’t like you. It was all for nothing though because they absolutely loved you, you were a part of their dysfunctional family now and they had no plans of letting you go. Everyone had really taken a liking to you, especially Bucky and Natasha.

When you introduced yourself to them with your cheeks flushed, hands nervously fidgeting behind your back, and your shy little voice, it made Natasha want to wrap her arms around you and protect you from the world.

But, on the other hand, seeing your long thick thighs on display, juicy ass just barely covered by the shorts you wore, and your tank top that hugged your curves just right made her’s and Bucky’s mouths water. That body paired with your shy, innocent demeanor made them want to swallow you whole.

They had been happy just the two of them, rekindling their love once they both were free. They never thought about having someone else in their relationship, never wanted anyone else, until you.

One knowing look and desire fill conversation later they knew they had to have you. They just had to be careful so they wouldn’t scare you away, and make sure Tony didn’t find out and do something crazy. He was very protective of you.

So, the next couple of years were spent with heated looks, lingering touches, and subtle hints thrown at you that you never seem to catch. They were tired of this game of chase, frustrated and on a level of horny so high that they couldn’t fuck down no matter how hard they tried. Bucky was this close to fucking up against the closest wall, Natasha not far behind. But they’d soon get what they longed for.

You studied your reflection in the mirror again. The thin strapped, black dress that stopped mid-thigh, and had a slit going up your left thigh, hugged your body perfectly. You wouldn’t normally wear something so revealing but Wanda said this dress was perfect.

She’d said you’d definitely be getting fucked tonight. She may or may not have read Bucky and Natasha’s minds and knew this dress would make them lose it.

Tonight was Sam’s birthday party, although his birthday wasn’t for two more days, he’d be in Louisiana visiting his sister so Steve wanted to throw him a party before he left.

Making sure your curls were perfect, you sprayed on some perfume and put some black heels on and headed down to the floor the party was being held at.

Natasha and Bucky were sat at the bar area, formulating a plan on how to make you theirs. Natasha wore an off the shoulder, floor length, blood red dress that fit her just right, with matching lipstick and heels.

Bucky had a tailor-made, black suit that showed his defined muscles. His face clean-shaven, displaying his sharp jaw and his hair tied back in that low, sexy bun he’s always sporting.

Natasha was the first to see you, choking on her drink as she takes you in, causing Bucky to follow her line of sight. His cock rock hard instantly. She bit her lip and one shared glance; they knew tonight was the night and they had just the plan to do it.

You lock eyes with Natasha and she beckons you over.

“Look at you, firefly,” she grins and you blush.

Bucky whistles and looks you up and down. “You’d give poor old Steve a heart attack in that dress, doll. You look amazing.”

“You think so?” You shyly ask.

“Definitely,” Natasha adds.

You begrudgingly do a shot with them after the persisted you do at least one to help loosen you up, even though they knew you didn’t like alcohol. They didn’t leave your side the rest of the night, not that you minded, you loved being the center of their attention. They were waiting for the perfect moment to sneak you away, that moment came after the cake and presents, everyone having gone back to drinking and dancing.

Natasha loops her arm with yours. “So, firefly,” she smirks. “Me and Bucky were thinking of changing up our room, think you could help us?” There a devious sparkle in her eyes that you miss.

Your eyes light up. “Yes!” You smile.

They lead you away from the party and up to their room. Once inside Bucky locks the door. You look around as Natasha comes up behind you and puts her hands on your waist. She runs her nose up the side of your neck, taking in the scent of your perfume. You freeze.

“Nat?” You ask on a shaky whisper.

“Yes, firefly?” She nibbles on your ear, causing you to shudder.

Bucky stands in front of you and cups your face, tilting your head to make you look at him. His lips inches from yours. Your follow-up question gets stuck in your throat.

“Do you know,” Bucky starts, leaning forward to nudge his nose with yours.

“How long we’ve been waiting for you?” Natasha finishes, kissing your shoulder.

“What?” You ask through the already forming fog in your brain.

“We want you, firefly. Will you let us have you?” She slides her hands up to just under your boobs, waiting for your consent. You whimper and nod.

“Words doll,” Bucky says.

“Yes,” you whisper breathlessly.

Bucky smashes his lips to yours as Natasha cups your boobs, squeezing them. You moan and grab Bucky’s forearms.

He steps back and takes his suit jacket off, instructing Nat to take your dress off. She slowly unzips the dress and pushes the straps off your shoulders. It gets bunched around your middle, you blush, insecurities sneaking up on you. She just pushes it the rest of the way down.

Your hands itch to cover yourself but stop when Bucky lets out a deep groan. He whispers a fuck and reaches down to squeeze his throbbing cock. You let out a whine.

“Get on the bed and spread those gorgeous thighs, doll,” he rasps. His eyes black with lust. Your bra and panties come off and you get on the bed, laying on your back and shyly spreading your thighs.

Natasha moans. “Look at her Buck.” He hums and pushes the straps of her dress off her shoulder, revealing she had nothing on underneath. He groans and kisses her; she unbuttons his shirt. You whine, more slick coming out and coating your folds. They break apart and grin.

While Bucky finishes taking his clothes off, Natasha comes beside you and starts to play with your breasts, pinching and tugging your nipples causing you to moan. Bucky, now naked, kneels between your legs, taking in the sight of your soaked pussy.

“Already so wet and we’ve hardly touched you babydoll,” he taunts. You whine, the feeling of his hot breath causing you to shudder.

“Don’t tease her Buck,” Natasha says as she takes one of your nipples into her mouth.

She nips lightly at the bud as Bucky presses his tongue to your clit, you let out a high-pitched moan and grip his hair. As she teases your nipples, Bucky eats you out like a starved man, mumbling out how good you taste in between slurps and gasps of breath.

Bucky can’t handle it anymore and stands up before you can cum. “I gotta be in you, doll, fuck.” He gets in between your legs and lines his leaking tip up with your entrance.

He slowly slides in and your eyes roll back. He gives you a second once he bottoms out, letting you adjust. Natasha rubs your clit as he starts to move.

“How does she feel?” She asks

“S’fucking good, so tight, shit” He groans and pounds into you.

Natasha oscillates between making out with you and sucking you breasts and leaving hickies. She keeps rubbing your clit. You grip the sheets, panting and moaning. Bucky angles his thrusts just right and you scream as he hits that spot inside of you that causes you to see stars.

“I-I’m go-....gonna...” You can’t even finish your sentence.

He speeds up his thrusts, “Cum, doll, soak my cock.”

Your eyes roll back and your back arches as you squirt, soaking his balls, thighs, and the bed. His hips stutter as he cums unexpectedly, he rides out both of your highs, his cock not softening at all.

Natasha motions for him to pull, when he does, she immediately gets between your legs and eats you out, moaning at the taste of your slick and Bucky’s cum. He groans and starts to fuck her.

This goes on for hours, both of them pull orgasms out of you. By the end of it, you lay cuddle between them, exhausted. They say that they want you to be a part of their relationship, you agree, feeling like you’re dreaming. The two people you’ve had the biggest crush on actually wanted you to be with them, you couldn’t have been happier.

When Tony finds out he whacks both Natasha and Bucky in the back of the head with a rolled-up newspaper. He also now carries a spray bottle with him for when y’all get a little too handsy.

All in all you’re living your dream and you couldn’t be happier.

#honeybunnywrites #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky #bucky fanfic #marvel #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff smut

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stevie-petey · 11 months

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episode one: the vanishing of will byers

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you. “So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?” Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead.

summary: jonathan smuggles you free food in exchange for friendship, will goes missing the one time you listen to jonathan, hopper doesn't really like you, and steve harrington almost hits you with his car as you're sobbing like a damn baby (in a cool way).

rating: general, although there's plenty of cursing and slight innuendos, so fair warning.

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.

words: 7k

before you swing in: hello ! this is the first chapter of my come home series, where i plan on rewriting the entirety of stranger things because i really love a good rewrite fic and this is me just indulging in my ideal fic fantasies tbh. before we start: this is a steve x reader fic, however there will be some slight feelings between the reader and jonathan, but it doesn't at all get in the way of steve and honestly just adds to the angst because i love a good tragedy. also, reader is dustin's older sister, but i tried to write her as neutral as possible in terms of physical features, so let's all just play along. that is all ! i'm very excited for this series and i hope y'all enjoy her as much as i do :)

November 6th, 1983

Your shift at Bookstrordinary ends at 8:30 tonight, so as soon as you’ve organized all the books within the store and cashed out the last customer, you say goodnight to your boss, Mrs. Waters, and clock out. Today had been a longer shift, and it didn’t help that you had to deal with a particularly eager bookclub mother who insisted that you had the latest copy of some obscure novel that she needed for her club. After several attempts to inform her that no, you really didn’t have some novel about a cowboy falling in love with a rodeo girl from Michigan, nor would you ever want to read that, the mother angrily walked away.

You’re happy to finally be free from work though, excited to see Jonathan to tell him about the book club mom because you know he gets a kick out of those suburban middle class mothers that terrorize Hawkins. He works across from you, at The Hawk theater, and it’s one of your favorite things about the bookstore. Besides getting to be surrounded by books all day and reading Spider-Man, you get to be across the street from your best friend and share frequent breaks together.

A bell signifies your arrival at the theater, alerting Jonathan to look up from the concession stand and smile at you. He looks tired, which you can understand. It’s been a particularly long school year so far with Jonathan having to work more shifts than usual to support his family.

“Welcome to The Hawk, can I interest you in our specialty popcorn and candy corn mixture?”

You make a face, “No, thanks. Candy corn freaks me out.”

Jonathan laughs, knowing you’d say that. It’s been a running joke between the two of you for as long as you can remember. You’re not picky with most foods, but candy corn? The bane of your existence. “Tough crowd, then.”

You laugh as well, now standing in front of the counter, and you learn against it so that you’re in Jonathan’s space. After being friends for so long, personal space doesn’t exist between the two of you. You’re the only person that Jonathan lets get this close to him on a regular basis, which you’re secretly proud of.

“So, you almost done so we can pick up our idiotic brothers?” Tonight, as usual, Will and Dustin are at Mike’s house playing DnD. They’d biked over as soon as school let out, while Jonathan drove you to work, so he was your ride back for the night.

He shakes his head at you, wincing, “I picked up an extra shift tonight. Stacy called out sick, and it’s good money…”

You nod in understanding. He doesn’t have to explain himself to you, which he’s always relieved by.

“It’s okay. Is my bike still in your trunk?”

“Yeah, I can get it out for you since I’m kind of ditching you tonight.”

You wave him off, already reaching across the counter to grab his keys from his coat pocket. “No need, I’ll get it out myself so you don’t get in trouble with your boss.” Jonathan’s boss is an older guy, extra scary. “I’m assuming that I’m taking Will home tonight?”

“It’ll be late by the time you get the boys, and you’ll have Dustin. We only live a couple blocks apart, you can just bike with Will until you get to your street.”

“Are you sure? I know he’s scared of the dark.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. You’re already doing enough being there for most of the ride; I’m sure Will can survive the last five minutes alone.”

You give Jonathan an unsure look, but you don’t argue with him. He’s his brother, he knows Will’s capabilities, and it’s an unspoken fact that you baby Will a bit too much. He’s just so much tinier than the other boys, softer in a way that you want to protect. He’s special.

Jonathan sneaks you a large peach lemonade and hot dog from the concession stand when you return with his keys. You’ve parked your bike up front, and you accept the food gratefully. You hadn’t had time to eat your usual dinner during your break due to the bookclub mother fiasco, so you inhale the food quickly and give his hair a ruffle.

“You’re a lifesaver, bee.”

Jonathan lightly hits your hand away from his hair. “Consider it your payment for dealing with Will and Dustin on your own tonight, bug.”

Bee and bug were the names the two of you had given each other years ago. Jonathan had started it with bug, stemming from the fact that you love Spider-Man so much, and you had struggled to come up with your own nickname for him. Then it came to you: bee, or B, for Byers. It was perfect, and you’re still incredibly proud of yourself for the creativity, honestly.

After your quick dinner, you say goodbye to your friend and head off. It’s late now, nearing 9, and you hope that Mrs. Wheeler and your own mom won’t be too upset with you for being late for pick up. You know they prefer to have the boys in bed by a decent hour, but in your defense, Jonathan did skip out on you.

You arrive at the Wheeler’s in a short amount of time and knock on the door. Your cheeks are flushed from the early November cold, and you’re regretting that you only put on a thin sweater and jeans this morning.

Mike answers the door, giving you a dirty look. “Did you have to come early?”

“I’m actually later than usual,” you sidestep him, making your way into his house; you’ve become used to Mike’s attitude. “I take it the campaign is still ongoing?”

“See, mom? Even Y/N understands how long a good campaign can go on for!” Mike waves his arms at you, as if to signify to his mother the importance of your understanding.

Mrs. Wheeler ignores her son to greet you kindly, albeit a bit exasperated. “Hello, Y/N, please come in.” Then she turns to Mike, giving him a stern look. “Mike, why don’t you tell Y/N how you boys have been playing for ten hours? I’m sure she’ll be understanding then.”

“You guys have been playing for ten hours?”

Mike looks down in embarrassment for a second before turning to his father for help. You laugh a bit at his enthusiasm and see a faint smile on his mom’s face as well. Quietly you excuse yourself to go downstairs to find the other boys, and Mrs. Wheeler wishes you luck.

Everyone always acts like the boys are some giant pain; truthfully, you enjoy them. Sure, they can be a handful, but they’re just kids; it’s hard for you to ever stay mad at them. Plus they like you, so it makes dealing with them easier.

Lucas, Dustin, and Will are running around the basement when you get down there, frantically searching for something. You hear Lucas inform Will that if Mike doesn’t see something, then it doesn’t count. The urgence in his voice amuses you; you’ll never fully wrap your head around why they take DnD so seriously, but you love that they can enjoy it with each other.

Dustin is the first to see you. “Y/N!”

The other boy’s heads turn to you and they greet you with enthusiasm as well. Will rushes towards you for a hug, which you gladly accept. When you break apart, Lucas gives you a high five and asks about a comic you’ve put on hold for him at the store.

“Any luck?”

“Sorry, Sinclair. It’s still sold out, but the second it’s restocked I’ll smuggle one for you.”

“Sick!”

Dustin walks over, now in his coat and holding a pizza box. “Want a slice?”

You decline, informing him that Jonathan snuck some food for you. At the mention of his brother’s name, Will asks where he is. You tell him that Jonathan had to cover a shift and that you’ll be taking him most of the way home tonight.

As you all make your way upstairs, you notice that Dustin continues up to the second floor. Lucas notices too, and the two of you share a knowing look.

“Still have a crush on Nancy?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yup.” Lucas responds, smiling in disappointment.

You wait for your brother outside, helping Will with his coat and listen to Mike’s rambling about the campaign. Lucas is already on his bike, ready to go.

“There’s something wrong with your sister.” Dustin declares when he finally returns.

Mike looks at you, then at your brother, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“She’s got a stick up her butt.”

“Dustin!” You berate. Nancy isn’t your favorite person, but she’s always been nice to you the few times you’ve interacted. You guys used to be closer when you were younger, but high school has a way of distancing people.

“Yeah,” Lucas now speaks up. “It’s because she’s been dating that douchebag, Steve Harrington.” How the hell does Lucas even know about that? You didn’t even know about that until just now.

“Lucas! Language!”

“Yeah, she’s been turning into a real jerk.”

“Dustin, I swear to God-”

The boys ignore you, which you’re honestly not surprised by. While they may like you, that doesn't mean that they listen to you. On a good day they maybe listen to you 25% of the time, but tonight was clearly not a good night.

Mike finally cuts in, “She’s always been a real jerk.”

“Hey, she’s your sister. Give her some credit-”

Dustin is now the one who cuts you off. “Nuh-uh, only you get the sister leniency, Y/N. Nancy used to be cool, now she isn’t.”

“Remember that time she dressed up as an elf for our Elder tree campaign?” Lucas asks, almost reminiscent.

You shudder at the way he says it, and you shudder more when you see the dreamy look in your brother’s eyes. “Yeah, I remember…”

“Gross,” you huff at your brother, now hopping on your own bike.

Lucas and Dustin begin to pedal away, and you call after them to wait up. Will is still with Mike, and you promised Jonathan you’d get him home. You give the boys a bit of space, waiting a few paces ahead. Will has always been shy around Mike, something that you’ve tried not looking into too much, but to be safe you give them some privacy.

Faintly, you hear Will say, “The Demogorgon, it got me.”

Lights flicker a bit, but you’re too focused on the slight unease you feel by Will’s words. Before you can think too much about them, he joins you. “Race you up to Lucas and Dustin?”

“You’re on,” you tell him.

Will beats you to the boys (which you let him do), and you’re out of breath. The four of you bike in silence for a bit until you reach Lucas’s turn into his neighborhood.

“Good night, ladies.” He says, and you don’t need to be a psychic to know what your brother’s response is going to be.

“Kiss your mom ‘night for me.” Bless him.

You and Will giggle together, and Dustin smirks at the two of you, proud. He sits in the praise for a few moments before challenging you and Will to race home with the promise of a comic for whoever wins.

“I call last year’s Black Cat issue of Spider-man!” You call out, already biking away from the boys.

“We didn’t say go!”

Dustin and Will call after you as they try to catch up, and within a few seconds the three of you are speeding down the hill towards your home. You laugh gleefully, enjoying the way the wind whips through your hair and the way Dustin, though annoyed by your early start, laughs alongside you with Will.

Somehow Will is the one who wins the race, which you’re impressed by. He may be small, but he’s surprisingly good at winning when it comes to a competition. Dustin shouts at Will that he’ll kill him, which makes you send a warning look at him.

“I’ll take your X-Men 134!” Will retaliates, still flying through the street.

You and Dustin are now stopped at your mailbox and you take a moment to catch your breath before shouting at Will, “Be careful, please! Stay safe!”

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night. Dustin has already gone inside but you wait to follow, only going inside when you can no longer see Will, hopefully home safe and sound. You feel fear creep upon you, but you chalk it up to your usual worry when it comes to the boy.

He’ll be okay, Jonathan should be home within the hour.

–

The next morning you’re frantically biking to school, pissed off at Jonathan. He’s your ride every morning, or everywhere, really, and for the second time in 24 hours he’s bailed on you. Dustin left for school ages ago on his bike, so you’re thankful he doesn’t see you embarrassingly sweaty and gross as you race to school.

It’s not that you’re pissed that Jonathan bailed again, you’re pissed because he didn’t even have the nerve to call you ahead of time to warn you. Now you have only ten minutes before the first bell rings, and your sweater clings to you uncomfortably as you sweat.

You make it to school with a few minutes to spare, so you quickly make your way over to your locker to grab the necessary books for the day. You’re still sweaty, and you don’t want to even think about what your hair looks like right now. You look down the hall towards Jonathan’s locker, still not seeing him, and you begin to worry a bit. Maybe he overslept after last night’s shift?

A body crashes into yours, sending your notebooks spiraling to the ground. Steve Harrington looks at you sheepishly, only saying a small “whoops!” before continuing his fast pace towards the girl’s bathroom. You scoff, now even more annoyed with your entire morning, picking up your stuff as you see Nancy enter the same bathroom a few moments later.

“In a public school bathroom?” You mutter in disgust, collecting the last of your things and heading to class.

You decide to give Jonathan until second period, sophomore English which the two of you share, before you freak out. You know you have a problem with over worrying about the people you love, so you try to calm yourself down. While Jonathan has never been the type to cancel without at least calling first, you reason with yourself that everyone has a bad morning. He simply slept in too late. When he wakes up, he’ll come to school and he’ll be sitting in the seat next to you in English.

Except Jonathan isn’t in the seat next to yours when you enter the classroom an hour later. Now you officially let yourself begin to worry. Something about this doesn’t feel right.

You’ve never skipped class before, school has always been important to you. You’re the top of your class with hopes of running away from Hawkins with Jonathan to a big city with an even bigger university. However, you don’t even hesitate to flee the classroom and find the nearest phone in the school to call the Byers’ residence.

Jonathan answers after a few rings, and the words that leave his lips change your life forever. “Will is missing.”

You feel all the air in your lungs be knocked out of you. You can’t breathe and you sway a bit as your knees threaten to give out. This isn’t real, this can’t be happening.

“What?”

“Will, he-he’s gone, Y/N. We can’t find him and-”

You don’t hear whatever else Jonathan says. You struggle to get air back in your lungs. Will isn’t missing, you just saw him last night. Mere hours ago Will laughed next to you, face alive with joy, he hugged you and joked along with you.

“He didn’t come home last night-”

“He didn’t come home?” Jonathan’s words catch your attention and you feel bile rise in your throat. Will didn’t make it home last night. You were the last one to see him, and the realization crushes you; it’s all your fault.

“Mom and I just searched the woods, and there’s no sign of him and-” Jonathan is rambling now, his own fear and despair clear in his voice.

“Jonathan,” you force his name out, now needing to be there for your best friend. You can worry for Will in your own time, right now Jonathan needs you. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Y/N, you don’t-”

You hang up before Jonathan can argue with you and stumble towards the exit. Your limbs feel heavier than normal, and your ears are ringing. Will is missing. He’s so small, he’s scared of the dark… You left him alone in the dark.

The bike ride to the Byers home is a blur. You don’t remember much, your body going on autopilot the second you hopped on your bike. You’re running on pure fear and adrenaline right now, too worried for your boys to focus on anything else.

You don’t bother to knock when you arrive, instead you let yourself in. Joyce is on the phone, arguing with some woman named Cynthia. Your eyes find Jonathan’s, who is sitting on the couch hunched over something. You walk over to him and sit down beside him and your stomach lurches when you see the words “have you seen me?” he’s so neatly printed out on a piece of paper.

“Bee…” you exhale, voice cracking a bit.

Jonathan doesn’t say anything, but you know him as well as you know yourself. He doesn’t want comforting words right now. You take his hand into yours and lean your head against his shoulder. Worry has made his muscles tense, but you feel him relax into you a bit as he rests his own head against yours. The two of you sit like that for a moment, taking in the comfort you bring each other.

“Bitch!” Joyce slams the phone down, causing you and Jonathan to jump apart.

“Mom,”

“What?” Joyce is a mixture of both rage and anxiety, and you feel awful looking at her. Her son is missing, you can’t imagine what she must be feeling right now.

“You have to stay calm.” Jonathan tells her, his voice firm but kind. You know it’s taking everything in him to be as stable as he is right now; he’s putting on a front for his worried mother. You squeeze his hand, hoping it conveys the support and love that you need it to.

He squeezes back, and you see Joyce finally recognize that you’re there as well. She sends you a weak wave, which you return, before she goes back to dialing and trying to reach Lonnie. Jonathan gives your hand one last squeeze and lets go, now returning back to the posters. You immediately understand that he’s doing this to distract himself, so you do the same and wordlessly help him.

You begin writing your own “have you seen me?” when Joyce once again slams her phone down. The sound makes you flinch, inadvertently messing up your writing, which you sigh at. Before you can ask Jonathan for another piece of paper, you hear a car pull up.

Jonathan stands up to investigate, alerting his mom that the cops are here. You follow after them outside, your heart dropping when you see Will’s bike in the Chief’s hand. He ushers everyone inside, informing Joyce that he found the bike lying in the road.

“How far was it from the house?” You ask, your voice frail.

The Chief looks at you, his nametag informs you that his name is Hopper, and raises his eyebrows. “And can I know who is asking?”

You clear your throat, nervous under his scrutinizing gaze. “I’m Y/N Henderson. I’m close with the Byers, I biked with Will home,” your voice catches in your throat, snagging onto the guilt that has been clawing at you ever since you found out Will was missing. You clear your throat again, determined to continue. “I was with him last night. My brother and I live right off Mirkwood, a few blocks from here. He only had a few more minutes before he would’ve been home.”

Hopper stares at you. “Mirkwood?”

“It’s where-”

“Yeah, those moron kids explained it to me. I just didn’t think someone your age would call the street that, too.” Then, as an afterthought, Hopper adds, “The bike was found a block from here.”

His words sting, but you ignore it. If the bike was found only a block from the Byers’ home, then that means that something had to have happened to Will only minutes after you last saw him. You feel the familiar churning in your stomach, wracked with guilt.

“Did it have any blood on it?” Joyce now asks, and you’re thankful she’s taken the attention off of you.

Jonathan sees your distress and grabs your sweater so that you fall back a bit from the cops and Joyce. “Do you need a minute?”

You can only nod, afraid that if you open your mouth you’ll either cry or throw up. He gently guides you to his room, closing the door. Once you’re alone, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight. You’re shaking harder than ever now, Will’s happy and shining face from last night keeps flashing through your mind.

You were the last one who ever saw him.

You’re the one who was last responsible for him.

You.

“It’s not your fault,” Jonathan whispers, his voice muffled by your hair. You’ve always loved how you fit perfectly in his arms, your height difference being just enough that he always rests his chin against your head when he hugs you.

“I’m the last person who saw him.”

“Y/N, I was the one who asked you to only bike him halfway-”

“No,” your voice comes out louder than you intend it to, and you push Jonathan away. He lets out a confused noise as you grapple at him, forcing him to look directly at you. “I should’ve been with him, Jonathan. It’s your job to support your family, and it’s my job to help you. I have to… I have to be the one who helps you.”

You’ve always been fascinated by psychology, and you remember reading in one of the journals about codependency; the term was used in relation to addiction, specifically alcoholism, but it had caught your interest. To love someone to the extent that their actions make you feel responsible for them, to selflessly take on their burdens to a debilitating extent, well, it reminded you of your relationship with Jonathan.

You’ve always taken on whatever Jonathan has had to deal with, ever since you were kids, and it’s always come so naturally to you. He’s never asked you to, and sometimes the extent to which you carry his weight angers him, but it’s how you love.

It’s who you are. You’re always the one who helps, it’s what you need to be able to do. If you can’t help the ones you love the most, then what good is your love for them?

Jonathan may not know about codependency, but he knows how hard you love those closest to you. “Bug, listen to me.” He grabs your face, almost aggressively, in order to cut off your rambling. “My mom, she-she’s already spiraling and I can’t… I need you. I need you to be here, with me, right now. If I lose you too, then I-I don’t know what I’ll do.”

His words cut through you like glass. He’s right, you know he’s right, and you feel another wave of guilt wash over you. This guilt is different from the guilt surrounding Will. This is mixed with shame for allowing yourself to spiral so far and forcing Jonathan to take care of you. Joyce is clearly unwell, you can’t fathom how much he’s had to deal with today.

You gently remove Jonathan’s hands from your face and take a step back. If you’re going to help him, you need to collect yourself. From here on out, you have to be a wall for him to lean on, a shoulder to cry on, someone who will listen to him.

“I’m sorry.”

Jonathan shrugs at you, now allowing a hesitant smile to cross his face. “If it makes you feel any better, it took a lot less pleading to get through to you. I’m still working on my mom.”

The joke is foul, one that should make you feel even worse than you already do, because what sixteen year old has to plead with their mother to remind her that he’s there, too? The joke is horrible, and it’s exactly what you need to find yourself laughing, and Jonathan joins.

Codependency can be a bitch, but Jonathan understands you in ways that no one else can.

“You think the cops are gone?” You ask, wiping away the remaining tears.

Jonathan listens for any sign of them and shakes his head. “No, I think we’re all clear.”

He walks out the room first and you follow after him. Joyce is standing in the kitchen, staring at the counter with a far off look in her eyes. You and Jonathan look at each other and you motion for him to go talk to her. He nods, and then you motion to the living room to indicate that you’ll continue working on the missing posters.

Carefully writing on the posters soothes you, in a way. It’s rhythmic, providing a sense of lull that you readily embrace. You faintly hear Jonathan talking with his mother, then you watch as he leads her to her bedroom and shuts the door. When he returns he sits next to you on the couch and begins to work on the posters as well. No words are needed.

You work on the posters in silence for a few hours until it nears 3pm. Dustin will be getting out of school soon, and you have to be there for him when he’s home. While Will may be Jonathan’s brother, he’s also your brother’s best friend. You get up and head into the kitchen, long familiar now with its layout and usual contents within the fridge, and quickly prepare the ingredients for spaghetti. It’s a simple meal, but Jonathan and Joyce need to eat. Once it’s all laid out, you return to the living room and tap on your friend’s shoulder.

“Hey, I have to head out now to check on Dustin, but I just put a pot of water on the stove along with some noodles on the counter. I also cut up some vegetables and put them in the fridge for the sauce. Start the meal whenever, I laid everything out for you.”

“Thank you, really,” Jonathan exhales, relief evident on his face. He hadn’t even thought about dinner, which you figured he wouldn’t.

You bend down to kiss the top of his head. “Anytime, bee. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

“Okay,”

“Just…” you linger at the door, not fully wanting to leave him all by himself. “Be careful, please.”

“Go, Y/N. I’ll be fine, I promise.” Jonathan reassures you.

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night.

It’s brief, but the flashback punches you in the gut. You close your eyes, holding onto the image of Will’s face in the moonlight last night, and when it fades you take a deep breath and force yourself to leave.

The second you’re on your bike, pedaling away from the house, you let the sobs that have wracked against your throat all day out. It’s messy, the tears coming down your face faster than you can wipe them away. All the fear you’ve felt is now able to freely come out. It’s not the safest way to bike home, but you know that if you hold the tears in any longer you’ll collapse. You do your best to still be alert, but apparently you fail because a BMW honks at you to avoid you hitting it.

“Fuck!” You yank your bike to the right, having no idea that you had been on the left side of the road, and topple over. The fall isn’t anything bad, but it definitely is your final straw for the day. You lay in the ditch you’ve landed in, staring at the November sky, and let the pain from your skinned knee serve as something to ground you to reality.

“Holy shit, did I hit you?”

Steve Harrington stands over you, a horrified look in his eyes.

“Unfortunately not, otherwise I’d be able to sue you and get money out of it.”

“Uh… okay?” He offers you his hand, although still very confused. “You didn’t like, happen to hit your head or anything, right?”

You accept his help, albeit mostly because you have to, and brush yourself off when you’re up. “I’m fine. I just wasn’t paying attention, sorry.”

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you.

“So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?”

Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead.

“No,” you say, now repositioning your backpack so that you can get back on your bike. “Thanks anyways, Harrington.”

Steve continues to follow you, even after you’ve started to pedal away. “You’re welcome, random girl I almost hit!”

You’re a bit further now, and you still feel like utter shit, but his words somehow make you laugh a bit. For a brief moment, you forget about everything, so you call behind, “It’s Henderson!”

“That’s an odd first name!” The boy shouts after you, still following from a distance.

“Y/N Henderson!” You’re fully yelling now, a good yard away, but you can tell that Steve hears you based on the way he begins to wave eagerly, finally stopping next to his car. Faintly you understand the boyish charm that makes him so loved by all the girls in the school; you understand why Nancy Wheeler has fallen for him.

“Bye, Y/N!” It’s faint, but you swear you can hear a smile in his voice.

The good mood that Steve Harrington inexplicably puts you in vanishes when you near your house. Nothing has changed, yet it feels as if something has shifted. Will had been here only hours ago. You spot Dustin’s bike laying on the grass, haphazardly thrown as usual.

Dustin is just taking off his coat when you enter, immediately running over to him to pull him into a bone crushing hug.

“Y/N!” he squeaks in surprise.

“Are you okay?” You know you’re squeezing your brother harder than you need to, but God. He’s safe, in your arms, and you’ve now learned that not everyone can say the same about their own loved ones.

Dustin wiggles a bit, trying to break away from the hug, but you only pull him in tighter. “Geesh, no one died.”

Normally you’d berate him, but you embrace his snarky comments. They’re what make Dustin so unique, his humor one of your favorite parts of him

When you don’t respond, Dustin stops wiggling around and finally accepts the situation. “I love ya too, sis.”

You giggle a bit, now pulling away. “At least mom isn’t home right now. The minute she hears about what’s happened, we’ll be on lockdown.”

Dustin’s eyes widen. “Shit, you’re right.”

“Lan-”

“Language, I know.”

You ruffle his hair, now feeling a bit better. Dustin is still Dustin, so maybe everything will be okay. You and your brother go into the kitchen for your post school snack, and you call your boss to inform her that you can’t make it to your shift. The words “family emergency” catch in your throat a bit, and Mrs. Waters is kind enough not to push it.

Dustin catches you up on his day, informing you about Hopper questioning him and the other boys.

You scrunch your nose at that. “Is that even legal?”

“Unsure, but it was awesome.”

“Will went missing, Dustin. It isn’t ‘awesome’.”

Dustin tilts his head at you. “Well, I bet Will is going to have a blast hearing everything when we find him.”

His words are so matter of fact, as if he already knows that Will will be found after all. His naivety worries you a bit, but you also can’t help but indulge in his hope as well. Then you think about what he’s just said. “Wait, who’s ‘we’?”

Your brother pretends he can't hear you, miming at his ears. “Dustin-”

“What?”

“Dustin, you and the boys can’t just-”

“I can’t hear you!” He’s running to his room now with you quick behind his heels.

“Dustin, I swear to God-”

“I gotta do homework, Y/N, bye!” He slams the door in your face.

You sigh. There’s no getting through to him, years of being Dustin’s older sister has taught you that, so you go into your room instead. You might as well get started on the assignments you missed today, and you have a huge chem test tomorrow, so you’ll focus on that and keep an ear out for Dustin. Whatever he’s planning with the boys, you won’t let them do it alone.

After a couple hours of silence from Dustin’s room, you decide to call Jonathan. The line rings for a while with no answer, and eventually you give up. It makes sense that he’s not answering, he’s had a long day. You hope he’s asleep, but you know him better than that. He’s probably holed up in his room, trying to distract himself like you are right now.

A loud thud from Dustin’s room breaks you from your thoughts. Then you hear a quiet “shhh!” that sounds suspiciously like Lucas, and you immediately throw on your shoes and a jacket and march outside.

Dustin is halfway out of his window when you arrive, and Mike and Lucas stare at you, caught red handed.

“Guys, I think she can hear us.” Your brother says, breaking the silence. Mike scoffs at him and Lucas groans.

You eye the three of them, unamused. “Your best friend just went missing, what the hell are you guys doing out here so late and alone?”

Dustin awkwardly finishes his descent down, finally landing on his feet with a thud. He secures his hat back on his head and goes to grab his bike. You block his path.

“I’m serious, one of you needs to start talking, now.”

Lucas and Dustin look at Mike, who is their unofficial leader of the gang, and he huffs. “Look, Y/N, I like you-”

“How thrilling.” You say, voice monotone.

The boy ignores you and continues to talk. “But Will is missing, and we aren’t just going to sit around and wait. He’s our friend, we have to do something.”

You open your mouth to speak, but Lucas interrupts you. “You’re definitely our favorite sister in the group, so you’d be even cooler if you let us go.”

Again, you try to respond, but this time Dustin beats you to it. “Yeah, you’re like, totally cool already. If you pretend that you never saw us, that’d be great.”

“Guys-”

“And don’t give us a whole lecture about safety. That’s all bull.” Mike says.

“Boys!” You scream. They all fall silent, not used to you ever raising your voice at them. You’ve only ever yelled at them once or twice, preferring to be the “cool” sister whenever you can, but right now they’re seriously pissing you off.

“Let me speak.” When no one says anything, you continue. “I’m not going to stop you guys from looking for Will. In fact, I support it-”

“You do?”

You shoot Mike a death glare, which promptly shuts him up. “Yes, I do. However, I’m not letting you guys go alone.”

The boys all groan at this, acting as if it’s the worst thing in the world to have you tag along with them. You ignore their complaining and head over to where your bike sits against the porch. You zip up your coat, the chill from the night making you shiver a bit.

“No arguing, or I’ll call all your moms. Ours included, Dustin.”

“Why me?”

“Look, guys. I’m proud of you for stepping up, but I’m coming with. The last time I let one of you boys go off into the woods alone…”

The boys shift uncomfortably now, realizing how heavy the guilt weighs upon you. After a few beats of silence, Mike finally gives in.

“Fine,” he says, pointing a finger at you. “But the second you start to freak out, you’re gone.”

You salute Mike, hopping on your bike as you all begin to bike away. The ride doesn’t take long, since you live just off of where Will was last seen. Thunder rumbles when you all approach the crime scene, and you shudder a bit.

“It’s going to rain, guys.” You inform them.

Dustin looks up at the sky with uncertainty. “I think maybe we should go back.”

Mike is quick to shut down the idea, urging the others to keep going. You admire his loyalty to Will, and you figure it’s why the two of you butt heads so often. Out of the entire group, you’re the most similar to him.

Lucas and Mike go under the caution tape first, and Dustin hangs back. You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We can go back, you know.”

He clenches his jaw, jutting his chin out a bit. “No, Will needs us.”

Your brother puffs out his chest and follows after his friends, leaving you to take up the rear. More thunder rumbles and the rain begins to come down. You flip your hood up, thankful you remembered to grab a hoodie when leaving.

Mike guides the way with his flashlight, then Lucas, then Dustin, then you in the back. You make sure to keep your eyes on the three boys, scared that the second you look away they’ll be gone. The woods have always creeped you out, but you push your fear down to keep them safe.

“Will!” Mike calls out, the rain now pouring down on you guys.

“Byers!”

“Will, little bee!” You call out as well. He never liked when you called him that in front of the others, but tonight was an exception.

“I’ve got your X-Men 134!” Your brother bribes, unintentionally making you laugh a bit. If Will is nearby, he’ll surely come out to claim his prize.

Your foot catches on a tree log, and you slip in the mud before just barely managing to catch yourself. It’s getting hard to see given how dark it is and the rain surrounding you. Dustin voices his concerns, only to be called a baby, and you bite your tongue. If you defend him, he’ll only look more like a baby to his friends.

“I’m just being realistic!” He retaliates, which you commend him for.

“Dustin’s right, guys. It’s getting really bad out here. We’re surrounded by a ton of trees, don’t they attract lightning?” You ask, now paranoid that you’ll be struck down any second.

“You guys are being sissies.” Lucas taunts, annoyed as well.

You try to argue, but Dustin voices a thought that’s been at the back of your mind. “Did you ever think Will went missing because he ran into something bad?”

You think back to how Hopper seemed worried when he investigated the Byers home. From what you can recall, he suspected that Will had been running away from something, explaining why he’d abandon his bike.

“And now we’re going to the exact same spot where he was last seen, and we have no weapons or anything?”

Maybe Dustin’s right. This definitely wasn’t your best idea, and you’re regretting letting them follow through with their plan. For someone who claims to want to keep their loved ones safe, you really suck at it.

“Dustin, shut up.” Mike voices, though he now looks a bit concerned as well.

“He’s right, Mike.” You speak up, stumbling a bit in more mud. Your shoes are definitely ruined, now. “I was at Jonathan’s when Hopper showed up, he thinks Will was running from something.”

The boys go quiet now, and when you’re about to suggest going home, you hear rustling in the bushes.

“Did you guys hear that?” Mike asks.

Your heart stops as the rustling continues and you all start to twist and turn, looking for the source of the sound. The rustling gets louder, almost as if it’s getting closer, and you tighten your hand around your flashlight, ready to use it as a weapon just in case.

Then, the light flashes upon a little girl, drenched in an oversized yellow shirt, shivering. Her head is shaved, but her small stature suggests to you that she is indeed a girl. You all stare at her, no one saying a thing. She stares back, a terrified look on her face that breaks your heart.

“Holy shit,” you whisper.

Her eyes land on you; something about her reminds you of Will, and you know that nothing will be the same again.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #honestly i just want to be jonathans bff #like its criminal that he doesnt have any real friends in the show until SEASON 4 #absolutely wild

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kunaigirl · 29 days

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Long post ahead, but I really want to talk about this...I think? Oh lord here we go, lol. Anyways, confession time!

I struggled with illiteracy and learning to read for a chunk of my life. I've mentioned it (in passing) in this post that I made about my experiences with having epilepsy, but I decided to make an whole post just for this for a change.

Somewhere around when I was in the second grade, I lost my ability to read and write due to a bad seizure I had. (That combined with the medications I was given too.) A lot of my memories are blank from that era, except for a very few instances I remember clearly. What I do remember though, has nothing to do with the seizure or even what lead up to it, all of that's still gone to this day.

I had lost my ability to read, and also was diagnosed with dyslexia during the quest to re-learn from scratch. (On top of already being diagnosed with ADHD when I was about 6.) I remember very vividly how HORRIBLE everything felt. I couldn't remember the names of things, and I had to re-learn, from preschool up, both reading and writing from scratch.

Somewhat luckily, I didn't lose anything else besides those chunks of memories and my ability to read, and I still remembered who I was, what cartoons I liked, my favorite music, etc. But suddenly, I couldn't read the CD titles anymore. I couldn't read the VHS covers. It was gone, ripped away from me very suddenly, and I knew it was missing. I knew that I already learned how to read and write, but it was forced out of me by a malfunctioning brain. I was home schooled because of it from grades 3rd-5th. (2003-2005)

In the third grade, I had made just enough progress to get books for 5 year olds. Everyone around me acted so proud, but all I could do was cry. I was humiliated. I felt so incredibly stupid, as being illiterate leaves you with no choice but to feel stupid. I threw those baby books around my room and sat on the floor crying. It wasn't fair, I didn't do anything wrong, it was my damn seizures. I had no control.

When I went back to public school for 6th grade, I got called stupid, the r-slur, illiterate, slow, basically every name in the book. Both kids and adults, all throughout those years while I continued to re-learn in real time. In middle school, my reading level was still low for my age, and I had to be in a special program with extra assistance and teacher accommodations. As soon as word got out, the kids were RELENTLESS. It was 06-07, nobody cared about bullying/etc, especially for a public middle school. The bullying never stopped.

I kept working and studying, slowly making progress. Years of struggling, learning to cope, inventing my own short-cuts to help read a little easier, using rulers and paper edges to help guide my eyes, everything. I was still in "special" classes with accommodations all through high school too. My senior year of high school, I graduated on the honor role list. Did that make me happy? It felt nice for sure, but better? Not by much. I knew how hard I still struggled, and still felt very embarrassed by it all. I'll never forget.

As a kid, the pain I felt was so intense. Physically from the seizure, and in every other way with having to re-learn how to spell t-r-e-e. Starting over with pre-K toddler books at 7. Kindergarten level at age 8, and a first grade level as a 9 year old. The feeling of having my memories ripped away just enough to leave me unable to recognize the symbols that decorated everything from posters to TV to book covers. Being told by a room full of doctors and neurologists what had happened, and being quizzed and tested to see what I still had left.

I have never forgotten those long nights. Even though I was a child, the shame and guilt and fear I felt were VERY real and very tense. And the jokes/remarks from both kids AND adults, the notebooks filled with raw squiggly anger, the uphill climb to regain what was taken from me. I will NEVER forget it. Even in college, I struggled with those heavy textbooks and their tiny fonts. I did well enough, but no one else struggled the way I did with them. I did my work and wrote my essays, but it would take full entire days. It still does.

At times, as an adult, I still get stuck on words. I can obviously read and write again, as you can see with this exact post, but it's not over. I struggle with certain fonts, and some books are just to difficult. I still work at it and still try as hard as I can even to this very goddamn day. It never truly ended, all these years later, 20 years later, I still sometimes fight to understand. I feel like an angry and humiliated kid again in those moments, but I'm not that kid or teen anymore. I lived thought it somehow.

I had a dream back when I was 17, where I'm standing in from of my 9 year old self and that pile of baby books. She's crying and looking at me, desperately. I walk over and hug her, proudly telling her "We read The Great Gatsby in high school, and we understand it."

To anyone who has struggled with illiteracy at non-toddler-points in their lives, I see you. To anyone who's struggled with reading comprehension, I see you. To anyone who struggled with writing, I see you. We don't talk about it enough, and I want to change that. I don't want to hide that side of my life experience anymore. Fuck shame, we climbed out of it.

And to this day, a copy of "The Great Gatsby" is still on my shelf. Because I read it in high school, and 9 year old me would've thought that was the coolest achievement ever.

#my posts #long posts #story time #reblogs are ok but please be civil #illiteracy #epilepsy #just epilepsy things #actually epileptic #reading

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blu3fiish · 6 months

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Things I headcanon that would have happened to the batkids at one point in middle school that happened to me. (even if some of them weren't in middle school at all):

Dick: (7th) Jumped off the swing at a too high of a point and landed face first in the wood chips Babs: (7th) got chased around by 6th graders who assumed she stole a penguin stuffed animal. (she didn't, it was a penguin stuffed animal she got in a happy meal box fair and square.) Cass: (6th) had a pen pal that she would talk to by writing on the desk (The teacher did not like that) Jason: (7th) took the packaged sporks from the cafeteria and by the end of the year gathered 1,453 packs of sporks. (the lunch ladies were fine with it as long as whenever someone needed a spork packet it was given to the student in need) Steph: (8th) found animal bones in one of those plastic ground electrical boxes in the field. (science teacher let her keep the bones) Tim: (7th) Math teacher allowed students to eat in class and Tim managed to bring in a rotisserie chicken. (Tim and the girl who was able to doordash in&out to the school shared food) Duke: (8th) convinced the school to keep strawberry milk year long instead of only during valentines Damian: (8th) two boys tried to give him 50 dollars to draw the two boys in a NSFW way.

#dc #batfam #dick grayson #barbara gordon #cassandra cain #jason todd #stephanie brown #tim drake #duke thomas #damian wayne #blu3fiish

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drinkmoarwater · 5 months

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Dannymay Day 13: DND

I may have let my autism take the wheel and made a functional race and class based on Danny Phantom. Fair warning now, it's overpowered for regular dnd and has not been play tested (yet).

Race: Portal-Touched

Balanced Halfa

Unstable Halfa

Class: The Obsessed

Ice Core

Fire Core

Manufactured Core

This is a long post.

TLDR; I made a Constitution based half caster with subclasses themed to Danny, Vlad, and Danielle. I'll be uploading this to the DND wiki as homebrew at some point, but for now, here's the content. Obviously I don't own either Danny Phantom or DND.

Race: Portal-Touched

You were once human, until contact with a ghost portal changed you down to your core. You are now a unique cross between human and ghost, and able to switch between your human and ghost forms with a flash.

Subrace: Balanced Halfa

You had some self reflection and discovered your purpose, something that keeps you tethered to both the physical and infinite realms.

Ability Score Increase. Your Dexterity increases by 2 and your Constitution increases by 1.

Age. Halfas’ human forms age slowly, while their ghost form does not need to age at all. Most halfas have ghost forms that match the age they perceive themselves as. Halfas can live to be 200 years old, but reach maturity by age 20.

Alignment. Balanced Halfas are good or neutral aligned.

Size. Medium, though halfas can be compressed into any small space that could capture a ghost, such as a thermos or vacuum.

Speed. 30 feet walking speed, 40 feet flying speed.

Languages. Common and Ghostspeak.

Rearranged Molecules. You are capable of transforming into both a human and a ghost, classifying you as both humanoid and undead. You can transform into your opposite form as a bonus action, or at will. When human, you have advantage on saving throws targeting undead, but can still be affected. You also can use your ghostly traits at half effectiveness (flying speed of 20 feet, half damage on attacks that use your ghost abilities, etc) not including invisibility and intangibility. When ghostly, you can be affected by anything that affects undead, but you have advantage on saving throws for Turn Undead.

Phantom Form. Your ghost form is natural to you, but requires focus. You do not require air while in ghost form. You are immune to disease, being paralyzed, and being petrified in ghost form, but resistant to each in human form. You can take the following actions:

Flight: In your ghost form, you can fly at will with a flying speed of 40 feet. In human form, your flight speed is halved.

Intangibility: You can walk through solid objects and creatures as if they were not there as a bonus action. You can use this feature a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus per long rest. You can access this ability while in human or phantom form.

Invisibility: You can cast Invisibility on yourself as an action without using a spell slot. You can use this feature a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus per long rest. You can access this ability while in human or phantom form.

Ectoblast. You can shoot ectoplasm from your hands as an action, so long as you have one empty hand. Think of this as a cantrip with a range of 30 feet. Your ectoplasmic blast adds your proficiency bonus and your Dexterity modifier to hit, and 1d8 + your Dexterity modifier lightning, force, fire, or cold damage. Once you select a damage type for your ectoblast, you cannot change it. This damage increases to 2d8 at 6th level, 3d8 at 11th level, and 4d8 at 16th level. Damage output is halved in human form.

Blood Blossom Allergy. You, like any ghost, cannot be within 15 feet of a blood blossom or anything made with blood blossoms. If you are near it, you will take 1d4 poison damage at the start of every turn. If you touch a blood blossom, or anything made with one, you will take 1d12 poison damage at the start of every turn until you remove the item or flower. Damage taken from blood blossoms is critical in ghost form, meaning double the damage or roll two dice.

Spiritual Purpose. Your obsession has developed into something new, you are a half-ghost with a purpose. Your purpose is what you have dedicated your existence to, a goal that extends beyond yourself, such as defending your family, finding lost knowledge, or allegiance to a leader or cause. You will do almost anything to accomplish this goal, even if it means sacrificing yourself. When fulfilling your purpose, you have advantage on related attack rolls and saving throws, though “related rolls” are at DM discretion. Without a purpose, or with a purpose that conflicts with your alignment, you become unstable and use the Unstable Halfa subclass unless you regain a purpose.

Subrace: Unstable Halfa

The unease within yourself manifests outward in your body. That is, if you happen to have a body at the time.

Ability Score Increase. Your Dexterity increases by 2 and your Constitution increases by 1.

Alignment. Any alignment, with a tendency toward lawfulness.

Size. Medium, though halfas can be compressed into any small space that could capture a ghost, such as a thermos or vacuum.

Speed. 30 feet walking speed, 40 feet flying speed.

Languages. Common, Ghostspeak, and any 1 language.

Rearranged Molecules. You are capable of transforming into both a human and a ghost, classifying you as both humanoid and undead. You can transform into your opposite form as a bonus action. When human, you have advantage on saving throws targeting undead, but can still be affected. You also can use your ghostly traits at half effectiveness (flying speed of 20 feet, half damage on attacks that use your ghost abilities, etc) not including invisibility and intangibility. When ghostly, you can be affected by anything that affects undead, but you have advantage on saving throws for Turn Undead.

Flight: In your ghost form, you can fly at will with a flying speed of 40 feet. In human form, your flight speed is halved.

Unstable Form. The beginning of your life as a halfa, whether through a portal accident or cloning, is challenging on your body. You have disadvantage on Constitution saving throws unless provided a ‘fix.’ This fix can be a cure, a familiar, or magical item to cancel out the disadvantage. If your fix is more than 30 feet from you, you will continue to have disadvantage until this is corrected. Optional: After casting a spell, make a DC10 Constitution saving throw. If you fail, you start to melt into ectoplasm. Your movement is reduced to zero and you must make another Constitution saving throw at the end of your next turn to solidify your body. While melting or melted, you are immune to being grappled and resistant to being restrained. Discovering Purpose. You can develop a Spiritual Purpose with your DM’s guidance. Your purpose must be tangentially related to your obsession, at minimum. Gaining a purpose does not remove your obsession, only calms it. If you have a purpose, you can gain advantage on either Wisdom (Insight) checks or Charisma (Persuasion) checks.

Class - The Obsessed

You must have the Halfa or Ghost Race and a Constitution of 13 required to multiclass in or out of this class.

[ID: A table listing the features, cantrips, and spells allowed for the fanmade Obsessed class. The cantrips and spells are the same for the Paladin class with one extra cantrip starting at 16th level, and the features are listed in text below.]

Hit Points

Hit Dice: 1d10 per obsessed level Hit Points at 1st Level: 10 + your Constitution modifier Hit Points at Higher Levels: 1d10 (or 6) + your Constitution modifier per obsessed level after 1st

Proficiencies

Armor: Light armor Weapons: Simple weapons

Tools: None Saving Throws: Dexterity, Constitution Skills: Choose two from Arcana, Athletics, Intimidation, Persuasion, and Sleight of Hand

Immunities: petrified, paralyzed, diseased

Equipment

You start with the following equipment, in addition to the equipment granted by your background:

a simple weapon

any light armor

an explorer's pack

a ghost capture device, either (a) a thermos or (b) a vacuum

Ghostly Obsession

You have an obsession, like any ghost. Your obsession is your reason for existing–you will do just about anything to fulfill your obsession, be it violence, endurance, or self-sacrifice. An obsession can be anything, such as a person, a concept, or even a mundane object like boxes. Add your proficiency bonus to any Intelligence (History) and Intelligence (Arcana) checks related to your obsession. When fulfilling your obsession, you have advantage on related attack rolls and saving throws. If you do not have a clear obsession, you will wander or lash out at others until you find one. Without an obsession, you will have disadvantage on either Wisdom (Insight) checks or Charisma (Persuasion) checks.

Core Type

At 1st level, select a core type. You can have an ice core, a fire core, or a manufactured core.

Spellcasting

You have an innate ability to cast spells, channeling magic through your ghost half. Most of your magic seems to extend from or be a part of your body.

Cantrips (0-Level Spells)

At 2nd level, you know two cantrips of your choice from the obsessed spell list (to be determined). At higher levels, you learn additional obsessed cantrips of your choice, as shown in the Cantrips Known column of the obsessed table.

When you gain a level in this class, you can replace one of the obsessed cantrips you know with another cantrip from the obsessed spell list.

Preparing and Casting Spells

The obsessed table shows how many spell slots you have to cast your obsessed spells. To cast one of your obsessed spells of 1st level or higher, you must expend a slot of the spell's level or higher. You regain all expended spell slots when you finish a long rest.

You prepare the list of artificer spells that are available for you to cast, choosing from the obsessed spell list. When you do so, choose a number of obsessed spells equal to your Constitution modifier + half your obsessed level, rounded down (minimum of one spell). The spells must be of a level for which you have spell slots.

For example, if you are a 5th-level obsessed, you have four 1st-level and two 2nd-level spell slots. With an Constitution of 14, your list of prepared spells can include four spells of 1st or 2nd level, in any combination. If you prepare the 1st-level spell Magic Missile, you can cast it using a lst-level or a 2nd-level slot. Casting the spell doesn't remove it from your list of prepared spells.

You can change your list of prepared spells when you finish a long rest. Preparing a new list of obsessed spells requires time spent practicing your abilities: at least 1 minute per spell level for each spell on your list.

Spellcasting Ability

Constitution is your spellcasting ability for your obsessed spells; your unique physiology grants you the ability to manipulate your own ectoplasm into magic. You use your Constitution whenever an obsessed spell refers to your spellcasting ability. In addition, you use your Constitution modifier when setting the saving throw DC for an obsessed spell you cast and when making an attack roll with one.

Spell save DC = 8 + your proficiency bonus + your Constitution modifier

Spell attack modifier = your proficiency bonus + your Constitution modifier

Ritual Casting

You can cast an obsessed spell as a ritual if that spell has the ritual tag and you have the spell prepared.

Undead Endurance

At 2nd level, you have False Life always prepared, and it does not count toward your prepared spells.

Fighting Style

Starting at 2nd level, you adopt a particular style of fighting as your specialty. Choose one of the following options. You can't take a Fighting Style option more than once, even if you later get to choose again.

Intrinsic Warrior. You learn two cantrips of your choice from the sorcerer spell list. They count as obsessed spells for you, and Constitution is your spellcasting ability for them. Whenever you gain a level in this class, you can replace one of these cantrips with another cantrip from the sorcerer spell list.

Defense. While you are wearing armor, you gain a +1 bonus to AC.

Dueling. When you are wielding a melee weapon in one hand and no other weapons, you gain a +2 bonus to damage rolls with that weapon.

Fighting Dirty. You’re scrappy and aren’t afraid to do whatever it takes. You can attack your opponents weak spots, such as strikes below the belt or to specific nerves, a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus per long rest. When you use this ability, you add 1d8 of bludgeoning damage in addition to whatever damage you dealt, which is magical when in your ghost form.

Frequent Flyer. You spend more time in the air than on the ground. When flying, attackers have disadvantageous on opportunity attacks against you when you move out of their melee range. When in human form, your flying speed is equal to your walking speed, instead of half of your flying speed.

Great Weapon Fighting. When you roll a 1 or 2 on a damage die for an attack you make with a melee weapon that you are wielding with two hands, you can reroll the die and must use the new roll, even if the new roll is a 1 or a 2. The weapon must have the two-handed or versatile property for you to gain this benefit.

Obsessive Protector. When a creature you can see attacks a target other than you that is within 5 feet of you, you can use your reaction to impose disadvantage on the attack roll. If you are holding a shield, or have casted the Shield spell, then you can reduce the damage dealt to the target by half or 1d10 + your proficiency bonus (to a minimum of 0 damage).

Tunnel Fighter (UA). As a bonus action, you can enter a defensive stance that lasts until the start of your next turn. While in your defensive stance, you can make opportunity attacks without using your reaction, and you can use your reaction to make a melee attack against a creature that moves more than 5 feet while within your reach.

Unlikely Hero. You learned how to fight as you were fighting someone. You have proficiency in improvised weapons and your unarmed strikes can deal bludgeoning damage equal to 1d6 + your Strength or Dexterity modifier. When in ghost form, your unarmed strikes deal magical bludgeoning damage.

Ghost Sense

At 3rd level, you can sense other undead within a sixty feet radius of you without using a spell slot. This feature is triggered automatically. In other words, your DM must inform you if there are other undead within sixty feet of you without you prompting them to do so. If you choose, you can expand the range of this feature to a 120 feet radius a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus per long rest.

Martial Versatility (Optional)

Whenever you reach a level in this class that grants the Ability Score Improvement feature, you can replace a fighting style you know with another fighting style available to the obsessed. This replacement represents a shift of focus in your martial practice.

Extra Attack

Beginning at 5th level, you can attack twice, instead of once, whenever you take the Attack action on your turn.

Fast Flyer

Your flying speed increases to 50 feet at 6th level and 60 feet at 11th level.

Overshadowing

At 7th level, you can overshadow, or possess, living creatures. You can use your action to touch a living creature and use your intangibility to take over their body and pilot it as your own. You cannot overshadow other undead or a corpse. If you overshadow a willing creature, then you can overshadow them as long as they are willing.

If you overshadow an unwilling creature, the creature must succeed on a Wisdom saving throw to resist being overshadowed using your spell save DC. The creature can reroll this Wisdom saving throw dependent on your level. At 7th level, they can reroll every round, every two rounds at 10th level, every minute at 13th level, every hour at 16th, and every dawn at 19th. The creature can also reroll the Wisdom saving throw if you are attempting to cause the creature to harm itself. If the creature passes the Wisdom saving throw, then you are thrown out of their body and are knocked prone. The same happens if the creature you are overshadowing is reduced to zero hit points, if two ghosts try to overshadow one creature, or if you try to overshadow a corpse or undead.

While overshadowing a creature, you use the creature’s ability scores. You cannot cast spells, but can use ghostly abilities, such as flight, invisibility, and intangibility. If you are attacked by non magical damage, the creature’s hit points are reduced, but not your own. If you are attacked with magical damage or if an attacker hits you with something that targets undead while you are overshadowing, you are affected by the attack and take the same amount of damage as the creature you are overshadowing.

After releasing a creature from overshadowing, the creature has foggy memories or has completely forgotten what happened. You will take a point of exhaustion for every day you continue to overshadow the creature. The creature will also take a point of exhaustion for every day you do not allow them to sleep or trance, if that is something they require.

Duplication

You can split yourself into multiple duplicates of yourself. You can make one duplicate at 9th level, 2 duplicates at 12th level, 3 duplicates at 15th level, and 4 duplicates at 18th level. Hit points and hit point maximums are halved, divided by three, or quartered for yourself and your duplicate(s), depending on how many you make. Subtract 1 from every ability score for yourself and your duplicate for every duplicate you make. For example, if you create three duplicates, all of your and your duplicates’ ability scores would decrease by three, bringing your Constitution down from 18 to 15 and your Intelligence down from 10 to 7, and so on. This would apply to all skill checks, spell saves, spell attack modifiers, attack rolls, tool use, etc. Otherwise, you can choose to use your unaltered character sheet, but subtract from every roll dependent on or affected by ability scores equal to the number of duplicates made.

You and your duplicates each have an action, bonus action, reaction, and movement. You can act together, but are not required to. Your spell slots are split amongst all duplicates, including ghostly abilities. You must roll for each duplicate separately. Any equipment or physical objects you have stay with the original and you cannot duplicate anything except for yourself.

When a duplicate has 0 hit points, it disappears and you absorb its ectoplasm, bringing the original’s abilities up by 1 each or reducing the number you subtract from the original’s rolls by 1. The remaining duplicates would remain unaffected. When you absorb a fallen duplicate, you absorb their hit point maximum and you regain hit points equal to your proficiency bonus + your Constitution modifier. For example, if you made four duplicates and one had 0 hit points, the hit point maximum of the original would increase by the hit point maximum of the fallen duplicate (say 50 hit points, bringing the original up to a hit point maximum of 100) and the original would increase their current hit points by your proficiency bonus + your Constitution modifier (6 + Constitution).

The Restful Dead

When healing during a short or long rest, you can add twice your Constitution modifier to your hit point dice at 10th level.

Ecto-Shield

At 14th level, when you cast Shield, you can either extend your shield to cover you and another creature within 5 feet of you, or increase your AC by 7 instead of 5. You can use this ability any time you cast Shield, but only once per long rest.

Ghostly Wail

At 18th level, you unlock a terrifying power. Once per long rest, you can scream with untold strength. You automatically deal critical damage to structures and objects. Your wail is a 120 feet cone of 12d12 thunder damage and costs an action. Any creatures within this cone are deafened and must make a Constitution saving throw to take half damage. Afterward, you revert to human form (if applicable), you are knocked prone until your next turn, suffer 2 points of exhaustion, and cannot take reactions until after your next turn. At 20th level, you suffer 1 point of exhaustion but nothing else.

Phantasmal Touch

At level 20, you find a way to share your ghostly abilities onto other living creatures safely. You are able to extend your ghost abilities of intangibility and invisibility onto one other creature Large or smaller via touch. This ability can be used as often as you use your intangibility and invisibility, totalling up to twice your proficiency bonus per long rest.

You can use this ability on the same action or bonus action you spend to use a ghostly ability. To affect two creatures at once, you can use a second action for invisibility, or a separate action for intangibility. To affect a creature that is Huge, make a spell attack DC15. For a Gargantuan creature, make a spell attack DC18. Note that all creatures you affect with this ability now are considered both undead and humanoid (or whatever creature they may be).

Core Types (subclasses)

Ice Core

Chilly Exterior

Starting at 1st level, your core takes on a natural ability to manipulate and endure extremely low temperatures. You are resistant to cold damage and can manipulate ice in the following ways:

Minor ice sculpting. You can create small ice sculptures or objects at will, no longer than two feet and no heavier than 40 pounds.

Temperature control. You can manipulate the temperature around you, but only to make it colder. You can make up to 10 feet around you cold enough to freeze water, or 30 feet around you cold enough to keep food from spoiling.

Ice maker. When you touch water, you can instantly freeze it, up to 10 gallons per second.

Bitter cold. You can make a creature cold enough to have frostbite up to 20 feet away as an action. You deal 1d6 + 4 cold damage.

Frozen Knowledge

Starting at 3rd level, you always have certain spells prepared. Each spell corresponds to your obsessed level in the table below.

[ID: A table showing the spells in the Frozen Knowledge feature, which include Frost Fingers at 3rd level, Rime's Binding Ice at 5th level, Sleet Storm at 9th level, Fire Shield at 13th level, and Cone of Cold at 17th level.]

Cold-Hearted Catcher

Starting at 6th level, you are proficient in using FentonWorks Thermoses, meaning you can add your proficiency bonus to tool use skill checks.

Ectoplasmic Pulse (Ice)

At 11th level, you can use your action to send out a pulse of ecto-energy. Every creature must make a Dexterity saving throw against your spell save DC or be restrained by magical ice. On a failed save, they take 2d10 ice damage or half damage on a successful save. You can use this feature once per short rest.

Cold Snap

At 15th level, you can use your reaction to create an ice structure to help an ally. If an ally is within 15 feet from you and you can see them, you can impose disadvantage on attack rolls made against one ally until the start of your next turn. You can use this feature once per short rest.

Shattered Hail

At 19th level, your duplicates can use your Ectoplasmic Pulse, once per duplicate, once per short rest. You must roll separately for each duplicate.

Fire Core

Wildfire

At first level, your core develops the natural ability to manipulate and endure high temperatures. You are resistant to fire damage and can manipulate fire in the following ways:

Fire starter: You produce small fires from your hands that can be used to light candles, spark bonfires, or controlled brush fires. Your fire can be no larger than your hand.

Turn up the heat. You can manipulate the temperature around you, but only to make it hotter. You can make the air or objects around you hot enough to boil water up to 10 feet, or hot enough to cook meat up to 30 feet away.

Tea maker. You can instantly boil water you come into contact with up to 10 gallons per second.

Tiny forge. You can heat metal to the point of being pliable enough to shape into something else. This requires you touch the metal for a full minute and the area you affect is only as big as your hands.

Intuitive Inferno

Starting at 3rd level, you always have certain spells prepared. Each spell corresponds to your obsessed level in the table below.

[ID: A table showing the spells in the Intuitive Inferno feature, which includes Burning Hands at 3rd level, Heat Metal at 5th level, Fireball at 9th level, Fire Shield at 13th level, and Flame Strike at 17th level.]

Hot-Shot Trapper

Starting at 6th level, you have advantage on Intelligence skill checks to capture ghosts using Dalv Co. technology.

Ectoplasmic Pulse (Fire)

At 11th level, you can use your action to send out a pulse of ecto-energy. Every creature must make a Dexterity saving throw against your spell save DC or become blinded. On a failed save, they take 2d10 fire damage or half damage on a successful save. You can use this feature once per short rest.

Hot Flash

At 15th level, you can warm up your allies within 30 feet of you. If you see your allies taking cold damage, you can use your reaction to create enough heat to reduce the cold damage by half. This effect lasts until the start of your next turn. You can use this feature once per short rest.

Heat Wave

At 19th level, your duplicates can use your Hot Flash ability once per duplicate, once per short rest.

Manufactured Core

A New Unlife

At 1st level, your core only just developed into something real and unliving. You entered this world as someone else’s creation and you’re going to make it everyone else’s problem. You are resistant to force damage and can manipulate your core to do the following:

Test tube baby. You can manipulate your body into the consistency of ectoplasm, a thick slime like substance. You can fit into any container with at least 4 gallons capacity.

States of Matter. Solidity is a suggestion to you, something you wear when convenient. You can squeeze through any space larger than straw so long as you can get to the other side. You can use this feature as an action and a number of times equal to your Dexterity modifier per long rest.

Standardized Magic

Starting at 3rd level, you always have certain spells prepared. Each spell corresponds to your obsessed level in the table below.

[ID: A table showing the spells in the Standardized Magic Feature, which includes Zephyr Strike at 3rd level, Gentle Repose at 5th level, Pulse Wave at 9th level, Gravity Sinkhole at 13th level, and Steel Wind Strike at 17th level.]

Synthetic Snare

At 6th level, you are proficient in creating traps to capture ghosts. Add your proficiency bonus to Dexterity (Sleight of Hand) or Charisma (Deception) checks related to trapping ghosts.

Ectoplasmic Pulse (Force)

At 11th level, you can use your action to send out a pulse of ecto-energy. Every creature within 10 feet of you must make a Dexterity saving throw against your spell save DC or be knocked prone, and 5 feet away from you if they are size Large or smaller. On a failed save, they take 2d10 force damage or half damage on a successful save. If they fail and are pushed out of your melee range, you may use your reaction to take an opportunity attack against one opponent. You can use this feature once per short rest.

Undead Tracker

Starting at 15th level, your Ghost Sense extends to a 120 feet radius centered on you. You can expend this range to a 300 feet radius a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus per long rest.

Copy and Paste

At 19th level, you can mimic one ability from the Fire or Ice Core types of your choosing, with the exception of their always prepared spells (Frozen Knowledge and Intuitive Inferno).

The Obsessed spell list will be on its way when I have time and hopefully one day I will have enough motivation to make builds for the ghosts and for Sam and Tucker. Someone please roll a luck check for me.

#danny phantom #dannymay2024 #dannymay day 13 #dnd #look i made you some content

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the-chaosbringer · 1 year

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Prongsfoot Headcanons

These are my own headcanons, if you don't like them just scroll past, don't leave rude comments.

Sirius and James are that one couple: sunshine dude and intimidating punk that's only soft for said sunshine. It's actually disconcerting when the untouchable, immovable, terrifying boy that only wears black smiles at the bubbly, too bright boy that never stops talking or jumping around. James is the only one Sirius is soft for. (He is ridiculously soft for James.)

Both of them are absolute nerds. 99% of the time they're hanging out with each other, their talks are always about advanced magic: anywhere from Runes, Potions, Transfiguration, Magical Theory, Arithmancy, Spellcrafting, Magical Politics. You name it, they have had in depth philosophical discussions about it.

James is obssessed with Arithmancy and Runes. He's best at Transfiguration, but he finds it boring; Arithmancy ans Runes mean he gets to play around with numbers and languages, mix and match to invent new spells for pranks, house help, schoolwork etc. He finds it fun because it's complex, and it keeps his mind occupied for hours on end.

Sirius, on the other hand, adores Defence and Astronomy. He's fierce with a wand— fiercer than James— and can cast with both hands. Duelling is his favourite pastime, and he drags the Marauders to the Room of Requirement for at least two Duelling sessions a week. People expect him to hate astronomy for its relation to his family, but he actually loves staring up at the stars, mapping them out, finding the constellations and seeing if he can remember the names (he always can). He and James have had so many dates in the Astronomy tower where they have nerd talks while lying on their backs.

Neither of them actually hate Slytherin. They just hate Snape (which: fair). They have friendships with a lot of the non- Death Eater Slytherins, and are often found hanging out in the Slytherin common room, being unnecessarily mushy in order to annoy Regulus and Snape. (Regulus is very annoyed, but he's also happy for Sirius. Snape just stomps into the dorms to avoid them.)

Sirius loves James' arse so much, it might actually be unhealthy. He always— always— has to be touching that arse every few seconds; sliding his hand into James' back pocket as they walk to class, squeezing it like a stress ball, pulling him into his lap, landing a teasing spank to see it jiggle as James walks by, etc. James has gotten used to it. He doesn't even bat an eye, just lets Sirius grope him to his heart's content. (He likes it. He won't admit it. Sirius still knows he likes it.)

James loves it when Sirius picks him up. They're both tall and broad, but while James is built lean and wiry like a Chaser, Sirius looks like he could throw around a hippogriff with ease. James likes that difference because he feels small and protected, and Sirius can just pick him up and sling him over his shoulder or press him against a wall to kiss the living daylights out of him. It is not uncommon to find Sirius casually piggybacking or bridal carrying James to classes, both of them engrossed in a nerd talk.

A combination of James' kajal and Sirius' rings was the reason they got together. Sirius could barely stop himself from kissing James silly when he had kajal on, and James could not stop fantasising about sucking on Sirius' slender fingers. The sexual tension finally boiled over two months into sixth year, when James yelled at Sirius to stop being so damn hot, straddled his lap and kissed him full on the mouth. And then, they became utterly unbearable, snogging and groping left, right and centre till the professors and prefects went mad.

Neither of James' parents were surprised by that development. "About time," his mother said when they announced it during Christmas of 6th year, and his father agreed. "I was wondering when you two fools would get your heads out of your arses."

In addition to his arse, Sirius is also obsessed with James' thighs. They're toned and bronze and so tantalizing, Sirius loves it when James wraps them around his waist. He loves sucking marks into James' inner thighs till he's trembling and whimpering and begging Sirius to just fuck me already, please. Seeing the blue and red bruises on James' legs always leaves him feeling extremely smug— they're proof that James belongs to Sirius, and Sirius only.

Despite having darker skin, James blushes a lot more easily than Sirius does. Sirius remains unfazed through most situations, but James is someone who wears his heart on his sleeve, and gets easily flustered. One smirk and a teasing whisper in his ear from Sirius and he turns firetruck red. Sirius thinks it's adorable. James thinks it's unfair that he can never fluster Sirius. Sirius argues that he gets plenty flustered, it just doesn't show on his face.

James is pansexual. Sirius is biromantic demisexual. Both of them go at it like rabbits. Their dorm mates (especially Peter) hate them.

James' favourite place to sit is Sirius' lap. Sirius' favourite place for James to sit is also Sirius' lap. It's normal for James to shove his way onto Sirius' legs when the boy is mid conversation, and for Sirius to simply adjust James and keep talking to the third person. Most times, it devolves into James grinding down on Sirius as he sucks hickeys into James' neck.

Tag list:

@ambrxsiaa @soopsiedaisies @in-flvx @achilleslikespeas @padfootastic @impishtubist @mycupofrum @fiendishfyre

#sirius black #james potter #bambibelle #starbucks #sirius x james #james x sirius #prongsfoot headcanons #harry potter headcanon #james potter headcanon #sirius black headcanon #prongsfoot #kalirambles #kalisblog

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witchern · 1 year

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heads up: these kids are the fucking best.

[Image ID: Letters addressed to the WGA from a group of grade school students at St. Timothy School in Century City. All of the letters begin with the same typed intro: "Dear Writer, My teacher taught us about the Writer's Strike in our Performing Arts class. I wanted to show my support."

The following are all handwritten additions by the students:

"I hope this ends soon. Stay safe while protesting. DON'T GIVE UP." From Jordan, 8th grade.

"We fight with you! Keep up fighting. You are built different than AI." From Sean Park, 6th grade.

"It must be very tough to strike but you have to take those steps to secure your future. We want to work as it is enjoyful but we can't let AI take our jobs so we protest." From Nick, 8th grade.

"I hope they give you everything deserve I know it's not fair and its a pain to protest but we all wish you the best of luck!!! You're doing amazing!" From Eden Harker, 8th grade.

"Your feet must really hurt from all that protesting! I don't want AI to take over. Theres alot of movies/shows I like. Like the fallout, coraline, queens gambit, Level 16 and more. Thanks for being so amazing!" From Misha.

"Stay safe dont get run over. The strik will end soon. Keep going" From Michael.

"YOU DESERVE MORE MONEY AFTER ALL THE GREAT MOVIES U MADE. I LOVE UR MOVIES UR AMAZING I LUV U" From Lauren S, 6th grade.]

#wga strike #wga strong #wga solidarity #do the write thing #lauren is my favorite akljdsha

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cobaltswriting · 1 year

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Character Essay: Snape

So, there are some characters that I have feelings about. Like, that I can see what the author was trying to do with them, but I also just... think they failed.

Unsurprisingly, two of these characters have to do with Harry Potter. Severus Snape, and Albus Dumbledore.

Yes, I know, J.K. Rowling is a terrible person and a TERF. But this is still something I wanna write about. And this is my blog. So... yeah. The Albus Dumbledore post might come later.

So, Severus Snape.

I’m gonna break this down into 3 big issues I have with the character. Which does definitely call into question the way Snape was written. And I'll even put it under a read more so any people who are pro-Snape for whatever reason don't have to read any further.

And yeah, this isn't going to be nice to Snape. Like, I've said it before, and I'll say it again, Albus Severus Potter should have been named Rubeus Remus. It is actually kind of a crime that he never named a child for Hagrid, considering Hagrid was literally the first person who was nice to him and introduced him to the Wizarding World. But I digress, let's get to the main subject of this essay.

1. Treatment of Students

We know why Snape treats Harry like shit. It doesn't make it ok, but I wanna talk about other students. Disregarding the favouritism towards his own house, we already come across a huge problem, that is also a problem with Dumbledore as well...

Snape's an abusive teacher.

Even if we disregard Snape's treatment of Harry, we have how he treats students like Neville, and insults leveled at students not within his house. Even the best Hermione, who is basically as close to a perfect student as we get, is simply ignored and passed over without a comment, and Neville... Hoo boy.

Like, I don't know the specific guidelines teachers are given that they're not allowed to cross, but Snape breaks almost all of them. Insults and abuse are hurled towards Neville constantly, even when he's in other classes, like him insulting Neville right in front of Lupin. And while I do like Lupin... Lupin just smiles at it. Nothing ever happens. Snape apparently never even gets told off about abusing his students. Hell, he yells at Hermione and Harry in front of the Minister for Magic in the 3rd book, and Fudge, while surprised, does nothing about it other than trying to calm Snape down.

Like, is abuse just... not a thing in the Wizarding World? This comes up in my thoughts about Dumbledore as well, beyond this, but...

If Snape was a teacher anywhere else, he would have been fired. Like, immediately. But he's just allowed to do so. Like, the closest thing to punishment he gets is that he's not allowed to teach Defence of the Dark arts until Harry's 6th year.

And just so we know this isn't the norm, let's look at another teacher... Minerva McGonagall.

She is the head of Gryffindor House (although I still think she should be a Ravenclaw. As should Hermione. BUT ANYWAY) but she does not favour her house. Excluding Quidditch, in which she supports her House's team, but that's a different thing, that's fine. Whereas Snape has probably never taken so much as a single point from Slytherin, she was responsible for the largest amount of points taken from Harry at one time, if I'm right. If not the largest amount, certainly the largest amount of points taken in the first book. She is also strict, but is also shown to be fair, and will compliment a student and praise them if they do well. She praises Hermione in their first class, because while Hermione did not entirely succeed, she did show godd progress for her first try. And while we do not see her compliment a student from another House, it can be assumed that it does happen.

This is how a teacher SHOULD be. They are there to nurture students, teach them, not abuse them and play favourites.

There are other teachers in Hogwarts, but Snape is the main one who abuses them. A case could be made for Barty Crouch (disguised as Mad-Eye Moody) abusing them, by putting them under the Imperius Curse) but considering he was a Death Eater, and was apparently doing it because Dumbledore wanted him to, we'll just... ignore him. I don't think it's too far from what Moody would actually do, although I don't like to think of Moody as abusive.

But yeah, Snape is very abusive of his students, to the point that the most positive thing he can really do towards a student that isn't from Slytherin is ignore them or say nothing. And abuse is a really fucking bad thing, in case you didn't know.

Let's move onto the next topic...

2. His 'love' of Lily Evans

Yeah, I put the love in quotation marks. Mainly because it... doesn't really read that much like love to me. I am aromantic, so that might have SOMETHING to do with it, but...

It just comes off more as a creepy sort of obsession than anything else. An obsession deep enough for him to have a doe as a patronus.

Like... let's start from the beginning. The first time we see Snape and Lily, Snape is spying on her and it's implied that he's been doing so for a little bit. Even though they're just kids, I'm pretty sure that counts as stalking. And then he makes a branch fall on Petunia when she insults them, which could have seriously injured her, depending on the size of the branch and where it hit her. It was enough to make Petunia cry at the least when it hit her shoulder.

Snape also encouraged Lily to steal letters from her sister and read them, when they found out that Petunia had written to Hogwarts. Although I guess that doesn't really come into the subject of his 'love' for Lily.

We also see that Snape is very... racist, I guess? Does the whole blood thing count as racist? Calling Lily a Mudblood, and then when he tries to apologise he can't even deny that if it was anyone but her, he would not apologise for it. So basically having different rules for her, which I guess could come into a love thing but the fact that he calls muggleborns Mudblood and yet 'loves' one comes out as... kinda fetishistic to me, I'm not gonna lie.

In the books we also have him desperate to protect her from Voldemort, crying when she's dead... And yet despite that, he is horribly abusive to her son, just because he looks like his father. And yet he does say that he wants to keep him safe, angry at Dumbledore when he finds out they've basically been raising him like a lamb to the slaughter. So apparently he's fine with possibly mentally scarring Harry, but killing him? Oh, that's just totally unforgivable!

You can point out various things across the books that Snape has done for Harry, but that doesn't change the fact that Snape is INCREDIBLY abusive to Harry, even moreso than he is to other students.

And then we have him taking part of Lily's letter, just because it had her signiture, and part of the photo that showed her in it, which just... always struck me as creepy. Stalker-ish. I dunno how to explain it any better than that.

And then, we have absolutely the creepiest part... him wanting Harry to look at him as he dies. Just so he can pretend that he's looking into Lily's eyes, probably. Which... yeah, that's just super creepy.

Like, I honestly cannot see it as romance at all. It just comes off as Snape having an obsession. It's even worse in the movies where he is shown cradling Lily's dead body against him and crying. Which normally wouldn't be that bad but with everything else on top of that... yeah.

This does bring us onto the last subject...

3. Snape's 'Redemption'

Snape's redemption is supposed to happen after his death. Here's the problem... he's one of the main examples about why J.K. is very poor when it comes to redeeming characters. Like, Draco could have been set up for a redemption, but he wasn't, as were his parents. Snape was set up for a redemption... and J.K. seems to think it was enough?

So, the main thing that is supposed to redeem Snape, that is meant to make us think he's ok... is showing us his past with Lily, and various discussions with Dumbledore. The whole sequence is for exposition and to try and make us think Snape is a good guy because he 'loved' Lily, and that was his motivation for everything good he did. Which, again, comes off as pretty obsessive.

Here's the thing though...

Snape abused Harry for 6 years of his life. He made Draco set a snake on him in his second year. He repeatedly broke into Harry's mind which seemed to end up having the opposite effect that Dumbledore wanted. Dumbledore even basically admits as much, saying that Snape was a poor choice for it, that he had hoped Snape would be able to see past his hatred of Harry's father. He refused to listen to anyone when it came to Sirius, refusing the possibility that Sirius might be innocent (until Dumbledore talked to him about it, probably), outed a colleague as a werewolf, which, considering the allergory J.K. was aiming for, was like outing a gay man, and made him resign from his job because he knew student's parents would be writing in to complain about it, so it essentially cost Lupin a job, which as we know, is already something that werewolves had problems with.

I do have issues with J.K.'s allergory of werewolves as homosexuals... but let's just say that one of the most notable werewolves, after Remus, was known for attacking and 'turning' children and leave it at that. It's not relevant to the topic at hand anyway.

Showing us that Snape did some things right, and that he 'loved' Lily... like, let's pretend that he did love Lily for a moment, and that it wasn't a creepy obsession.

... That still doesn't excuse the shit he did. It doesn't excuse the abuse at all. It doesn't redeem him from being a Death Eater. His only reason for wanting to save the Potter family was Lily.

Saving Harry's life in the first year by countering Quirrell's curse, and then acting as referee in the next match to protect Harry? That doesn't redeem the abuse that he inflicted upon Harry in the first year, let alone the rest of it.

Let's assume he had the best intentions in Prisoner of Azkaban, and he was interested in rescuing Harry, Ron and Hermione from Sirius. Although that is a HUGE assumption, all things considered... still doesn't redeem him.

Checking that Sirius was indeed at headquarters and then alerting them that Harry had gone to the Department of Mysteries to try and save Sirius when Sirius wasn't even there? Still doesn't redeem him.

None of the good things Snape does redeems him for the abuse he inflicted upon his students and especially Harry and Neville, and his love for Lily reads more like a creepy obsession.

J.K. tried to redeem Snape... and absolutely failed. Sometimes when you write a character, you need more than a single chapter to redeem them.

I'm not even sure if Snape was redeemable at all. Abusing children is a pretty fucking terrible thing. And I don't think it's even me being biased for being abused by a teacher, it's just unacceptable.

#anti snape #anti severus snape #Harry Potter #character essay

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coopers-hand · 2 years

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libra dominant people (sun / moon / rising / mercury esp) are often times described as being all about aesthetics and harmony and arts and all of this good stuff. however, from my experience, every libra dominant person had justice as one of their core values, they just have the 6th sense for moral and ethical imbalances (I call it bullshit detectors lol)

what’s more interesting is that in a lot of cases they’ve come to be like that bc of being a rejected kid (like not blending in in elementary schools or kindergarten), being left behind kid, that kid that was the last to be chosen by peers. because of living through the experience of being unjustly rejected they now have an untiring need to make sure everyone is treated in a respectful and fair way. they would be the person to encourage the silent one of the group to speak up, they would be the one that would make sure that the quite kid in a class has at least them to talk to🧚

#libra #libra sun #libra rising #astrology #compatibility astrology #astroblr #natal astrology #astro placements #astro community #astro posts #astro observations #astrology notes #sun #moon #rising #ascendant #libra mercury #mercury

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americas1suiteheart · 1 year

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Hello!💙💙 could I request lemon x assassin!reader where they’re in a relationship and end they happen to be on the same train they were assigned?

I love, love, LOVE, Lemon. Shame there's not too many fanfics for him though, he deserves more love, honest.

I Like Lemons

[Lemon x Assassin! Reader]

[Warnings; Violence, Swearing, all the stuff you would expect from a Bullet Train fic.]

[Notes; your code name is Whiplash(neat right?), so Y/n is only used once, and a slightly confusing pov]

"No one likes Lemons,"

"That's bolloks mate, lemonade, lemon drops," Lemon names off.

"Do you have a sore throat?"

"Lemon meringue pie,"

"When was the last time you had a lemon meringue pie?"

"Lemon drizzle cake?"

"I'm sorry are we still talking about lemons?"

"Alright then fine, you know who does like lemons though?"

"Ah no mate, they don't count, that isn't fair now it's biased."

"What the fuck do you mean it's biased?"

"Thats your lover there mate, that doesn't fuckin' count,"

"Yes it fuckin' does, if they liked lemons before they even met me it fuckin' counts,"

"I'll put your fuckin' head through a wall Lemon, it doesn't count- Ah, look who's up,"

Whilst the twins were bickering about and babysitting, Whiplash was trying to look for Carver, going through each and every cart trying to find him so they could finally take him out.

They were currently in the 6th economy cart, and still hadn't found him.

"Shit, maybe I should've gone to the First Class carts first.. Where could Carver be?" You mumble to yourself, opening the door to the next cart.

You walk about halfway through until you hear slightly familiar voices.

Shit..

They can't be here right now, how the hell did you get a mission in the same location as them?

Just try to walk past them without getting recognised and then you can go back to finding Carver, easy as that.

"Whiplash? Is that you?" You hear what you know is your fiancé say to you.

You pause for a second before slowly turning around to see Lemon and Tangerine looking at you.

"Hey, uh, I didn't know you two had a job to do here." You say sheepishly.

"I can say the same thing for you love," Lemon says with a sweet smile.

You leaned onto the seat Lemon was in, completely forgetting what you were there for.

"So, whatcha guys up to hmm?"

"Fuckin' hell, we're practically babysitting this guy. Had to go through a shit ton of guys just to get to this little shit." Tangerine groans.

"Shit I feel bad for you guys. How are you two doing so far though?"

"Just bloody fuckin' fantastic," Tangerine says.

"Better now love," Lemon says, looking at you lovingly.

You and Lemon liked to play this game to see just how long it takes until tangerine couldn't take anymore of it and either walk away from you two or completely just blow up on the two of you right there.

You and Lemon got along well because it seemed like you were nearly exactly the same. Now of course Tangerine liked you and everything being that you were his brother's lover, but having two Lemons seemed to really tick him off.

It's just kind of how most missions with the twins went.

"Whiplash darling, me and Tan were over here talking about something a while ago and he didn't quite seem to agree with me about it,"

"Oh fuck me, are you still goin' on about this shit?" Tangerine says as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"He was saying that no one really liked lemons, I want to know what your take on that might be love,"

"I like lemons. What the fuck do you mean 'no one likes Lemons,' " You say, turning to look at Tangerine.

"Fuck me, can we not do this shit right fuckin' now?" Tangerine groans once again.

"You're such a fuckin' Gordon sometimes," You say playfully, knowing it would piss him off more.

"I am not a fuckin' Gordon you take that shit back!"

"No I don't think I will. Anyways, I've got to get back to my thing, I'll see you back at home darling." You lean down and give Lemon a peck on the lips before exiting the cart.

---------------------------------------

You sift through the debris of the Train frantically trying to look for the twins.

"Lemon! Tangerine!"

Your head was throbbing and your vision was blurry, clearly injured from the impact of the crash.

You stumble as you continue to push large pieces of metal off of areas you couldn't see in hopes you won't find the boys dead.

"You okay there, kid?" You hear someone yell out from behind you.

You turn your head to see what you thought at the time was Carver walking towards you.

"Get the fuck away from me Carver! Take one more fuckin' step and I'll blow your bloody brains out." You quickly get up and use the remains of the train to support yourself, pulling your gun out and pointing it at him.

"Woah, woah, woah, calm down I'm not Carver," He says, putting his hands up.

"What? Who are you then? Where's Carver?" You say.

"I'm Ladybug, I'm filling in for Carver. He had some stomach thing and couldn't come or something I dunno," Ladybug says, his hands still up.

"Fuck me, are you serious? So he just fuckin' took off a mission like he was in school for a fuckin' stomach thing? Shit! Have you seen the twins?" You groan, running a hand through your blood matted hair.

"Uh, well Lemon went and jumped off of the train to stop a guy from shooting me before it crashed, and um, Tangerine's kind of dead. I'm sorry kid," Ladybug comes bloser to you and extends his hand out.

"Stop fuckin' calling me kid! Shit!" That was it. You finally broke down and started crying, you lost both of them and there was nothing you could do about it.

Soon you hear gunfire and look to see the girl from the train.

"Oh god," Ladybug says.

"It's my luck that delivered my father's corpse at my feet!" She says.

"The Narcissism on this chick, untreatable.." Ladybug sighs.

"Now I am-"

"Okay! Wait, wait, wait," Ladybug interrupts.

"What?" The Girl groans.

"What is with this fucked-up family?" Ladybug says.

"Your really fuckin' doing this now mate?" You groan.

"You need some suggested reading, if I may. Surviving Borderline Personality Disorder," Ladybug starts to list off.

You thought this guy was literally fuckin' insane. I mean, he has no gun, she does, and he's just interrupting her like this. Why is everyone on that train a fuckin' psychopath?

"What?" The Girl says, clearly confused that Ladybug was really doing this right now.

"I highly recommend it." He finally finishes.

"I am the new white de-"

Once again, interrupted. But for the best you suppose, especially being it was her getting struck and killed by a fruit truck.

The fruit from the vehicle flies out from the truck itself, tangerines, it seems to be. And the crying that you were able to keep down for that whole sh-bang that had just went on was finally coming aggressively back.

"What the fuck was that? Was that karma?" Ladybug says, almost in disbelief at what had just happened.

You walk away from the three to go inspect where the truck went. You werent a superstitious type of person to believe in things such as karma, but what were the chances of that girl getting struck by a Tangerine truck?

You see it stopped in the middle of the road, as debris was blocking the rest of the way, and someone stumble out of the drivers side clumsily, unloading a plethora of curses as he does so.

Your Lemon.

He turns around and looks at you. You would've immediately started to run to him but you were afraid that if you did he would disappear, that he would just be a figment of your imagination.

"Whiplash?" His voice shakes a little, maybe he to was thinking the same thing as you were.

"L-lemon?" You start to walk a little bit towards him, faster with every step as you stumble through some of the debris because of your injured legs.

At this point the two of you are practically running towards eachother the best you can with the injuries you had, finally making it into eachothers arms.

You stay in eachothers embrace for a while taking in that it really was him and that he really was alive.

"Oh my god I'm so glad your okay.. What the fuck were you thinking Lemon!?" You push his chest harshly, as he gives you a look at disbelief.

He was at a loss of words, unable to make out anything cohearant.

"You could've fuckin' died you asshole! What the fuck would I have done if that had happened huh? We already fuckin' lost Tangerine, and God rest his soul, because of some fuckin' lunatic on the train. What the fuck drove you to jump off of it and risk your life, Lemon?" You continue to yell, all the hurt you felt before turned into frustration.

"Sweetheart, hey, calm down. I know it was stupid, really fuckin' stupid but we're okay and that's all that matters." Lemon grabs your shoulders gently, calming you down almost instantly.

You cup his cheek and pull him down by his vest, placing a needy kiss on his lips, not caring that it was sloppy.

You pull both pull away, leaving one last smaller peck before looking back at eachother.

"I'm so glad your okay, Y/n," Lemon says, using your real name.

"I'm glad your okay too, Brian," You say, doing the same as him.

"Lets go find Tangerine and then get to the safehouse, I wanna get the fuck outta here as soon as possible, fuck this shit." Lemon says, pulling you next to his side as he begins walking.

"I agree. Are we going to take him back to London with us though?" It was a morbid thing to think about but thats one thing you had to worry about ever since you've started doing this job with them.

Lemon sniffles before letting out a small hum.

"I'm sorry darling," You say, grabbing his hand and rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

The ending of it was just a little bit cheesy and I didn't really know how to end it but I genuinely enjoyed writing it so much, it took me forever to write though because every time I would save the draft after I added to it and went back to it, it would delete my work that I'd done even though it said it had saved. But anyways, I do really hope you liked it!

Send in your requests for stories! Look at my introduction to see if anything you like is something I'll write, and DM me for further questions!

#lemon x reader #lemon bullet train #bullet train #bullet train 2022 #gender neutral reader #brian tyree henry #lemon bullet train x reader

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