#when the fuck next episode comes out please someone tell me

[azarsucks]

LOOK

to be honest, I actually like this scene so much. Sora and Nya are sleeping leaning on each other very adorably, Kai is exhausted and sleeping, crossing his arms, Lloyd is too bored but doesn't want to sleep so he's dragging his sword on the floor like a child, and Wyldfire and Arin is sleeping with same position and on the dragons. How cute. I mostly love the position between Nya and Sora.

Now waiting until next Dragons Rising episodes come out....

[skythealmighty]

can you imagine if like. object show characters were active on tumblr . i mean fans on here but his account is dead so. i mean itd be fun

#rocket talk #roc save #Fan come Back we miss you

(0 notes)

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

OH MY GOD NEW TPOT EPIWODHWND IM GONNA GO INSANE ONE!!! TELL ME YOUR SECRETS ONE!!!!!!

1️⃣ theoneandonly Follow

:)

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

HELLO??

#oh my god HI . THIS IS LIKE IF A CELEBRITY CAME UP TO ME IN PUBLIC. #ARE THE OTHER ALGEBRALIENS ON TUMBLR??? #/WHAT/

(3 notes)

🧪 test-tubular Follow

My best friend is pacing around my lab. I think a new episode's come out on one of his shows...

#I love him (/p) but he's going to become an unskippable cutscene very quickly

(0 notes)

⛔ nowaynuhuh Follow

i love shrimpy but it feels like he rlly doesnt ... get what i mean you know 😔 at least hes trying to cheer me up? i just wish i had someone to really talk to when it comes to these weird things i keep seeing

💼 emotional-baggage Follow

hey, i completely understand how you feel! im going to be busy the next few days with a finale, but ive sent you a dm if you need someone to talk to ^-^

⛔ nowaynuhuh Follow

thanks, ill take you up on that later!

⛔ nowayhuhuh Follow

...suitcase?

#i dont think shes been online since that last post #i hope shes alright...

(5 notes)

💰 goforthegold Follow

Reblogging this every time I miss my co-hosts!

💰 goforthegold Follow

:(

💰 goforthegold Follow

:(

💰 goforthegold Follow

:(

💰 goforthegold Follow

:(

🎮 iamnotmrkrabs Follow

Are you Okay

💰 goforthegold Follow

Take a wild guess.

(512 notes)

🥈 5centwonder Follow

why do people keep messaging me about hotel things?? i barely even go in two's hotel!

🥈 5centwonder Follow

yowie, you all need a hug :(!!

#especially you baseball guy!!! #im giving everyone in the comments a nice warm soft cookie

(19 notes)

🆚️ wordswithfriends Follow

Reblog if you think Flower winning BFB was a good choice, you like cheesecake, you hate Steve Cobs, you think Platinum is annoying, you're a fan of Dr. Fizz, you watch Jasonville TV, you think Glowstick's elimination was deserved, or you're gay

#they'll never know which one #i'm gay

(3,724 notes)

🔌 electricalmusical Follow

WHY IS THERE INTERNET IN RJE AFTERLIFE HELLO

👑 kingofeverything Follow

OMG NO WAY

🎡 not-tally-hall Follow

GET OFF OF TUMBLR.

🔌 electricalmusical Follow

YOU HAVE??? A TUMBRL???????

🎡 not-tally-hall Follow

...no.

👑 kingofeverything Follow

reblog if u dont have a tumblr

🎡 not-tally-hall Follow

This is stupid.

(10,734 notes)

🍿 stevecobseviltwin Follow

imagine needing to be Consistent to be popular

🖍 magic-crayons Follow

You know it girl!!!

🍿 stevecobseviltwin Follow

AYYYEEEE

#idk who u are but we should hang out Now

(3 notes)

🟢 greenyguy Follow

🅱️alls

(42,853 notes)

🎒 liam-plecak Follow

Oh my god I finally got this thing to connect to the internet. Okay.

Hello, Tumblr, my name is Liam Plecak. I'm sorry for the tag spam, but this is an urgent enough matter that I think warrants it.

For the past year and a half, I've been trapped in another universe with little-to-no communication to anyone else. I've been reading a few posts here and there, and I think some of you might be able to help with freeing me and my friends (I think some of you have powers?). Below is an in-depth description of where I am, what happened, and who did this to me. Please, if you can help, send me an ask.

Keep reading

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

oh my god? liam from hfjone is fucking real????

🎒 liam-plecak Follow

I'm sorry what

[bwabys-scenarios]

Laois SFW/NSFW HCs

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

A/N: I haven’t read the whole manga or watched all the episodes… so please have mercy on me if he’s not entirely in character!

warnings: oral(both receiving), cockwarming, roleplay, breeding, foodplay, nipple play

SFW

-Laois is quite the devoted lover, worshipping the ground you walk on.

-he can be a but clingy and overbearing, wanting to know everything about you and be there with you at all times. You’re his first and only love, it’s a new experience for him!

-he’s not shy at all when it comes to PDA, happily covering your face in kisses and following you around like a lost puppy.

-again, he’s super clingy. He adores being curled up with you after a good meal, and sleeps next to you every night. He loves to carry you on his back when you’re tired, taking off his armor to make it more comfy for you.

-Laois can’t help but stare at you for prolonged period of time. You’re so fascinating to him, almost as intriguing as the monsters he adores. He knows everything about you, doodling you in his journal every chance he gets.

-when you’re upset or sad, he’s upset or sad. He’ll listen to you complain and get angry on your behalf while petting your head. He WILL hold grudges if someone hurts you.

-his first priority during a battle is keeping you(ans Falin) safe. You are his darling, he couldn’t stand to see you get hurt. Even the smallest of injuries has him anxious, ready to pull you into his arms and feed you snacks while you get healed by Marcille.

-he just melts every time you give him any kind of attention or affection. Listening to him infodump about monsters and feeding him are the two ways to his heart.

-his adores feeding you, and will lick away any food on your face or lips.

-before he met you, he had never been in love before, but now that he has you his heart has never been the same. You make him whole, making him want things he never thought he would.

NSFW

-he’s a huge virgin with a big, fat cock he has no idea what to do with.

-you’re so pretty, and your hands feel so nice rubbing against his bulge that he can hardly breathe.

-you’re his first kiss, and feeling your tongue touch his instantly makes him hard. He ends up cumming in his pants from only a few sloppy kisses, looking all shy and embarrassed when he moans and whines.

-he’s a switch, a bit on the subby side due to his inexperience. He’ll let you boss him around, just wanting to please you and make you happy. You’re his beautiful girlfriend, he will absolutely listen to whatever you tell him to do!

-he quickly learns he’s obsessed with your pussy. The first taste he gets of your cunt gets him craving more. It doesn’t take long for him to get pussy drunk, looking up at you with hazy eyes as his tongue slips in and out of your pretty, right hole.

-when the two of you have sex for the first time, he’s beyond nervous, and ends up cumming on your pussy before he’s even able to push inside of you. It’s so embarrassing, but you find it hot that he got so excited he couldn’t help but spill his load on you.

-he’s got an average sized cock, about 6ish inches, but he’s GIRTHY! His fat cock stretches you out easily, and he starts to panic when you yelp as he buries himself in your pretty pussy. You quickly reassure him that everything is okay, and he’s happy to move his hips and fuck into you.

-Laois is definitely into roleplay and costumes. Dressing up as a monster will get him so hard that it’ll be hard for him to keep himself from cumming.

-Foodplay is definitely on the table. He likes watching you eat and enjoy food, and also likes when you’re covered in something sweet that he can lick off of you.

-He is okay with cumming inside, outside, on you, honestly he’s just happy he gets to fuck you. Anything you want is yours, so if you want him to creampie you and give you a baby, he’ll do it.

-sucking his cock will make him melt into a puddle. He prefers going down on you, but he will admit seeing your cute face look up at him with his cock in your mouth gets him cumming within seconds.

-his nipples are pink, and REALLY sensitive… he makes the prettiest noises when you rub and play with them.

-honestly cockwarming makes him feel so warm and happy. Your pussy drooling while he plays with your clit, clenching around his cock is just… heaven.

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Angel Dust with Violet Evergarden!reader platonic fluff scenario

Warnings: spoilers up to episode 4, possible triggers. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please leave now and read something much more pleasant.

For everyone else, welcome to this small piece of fluffy goodness! You guys might know me from my other blog, @forbidden-sunlight . You have sent me your ideas for future Violet Evergarden!reader scenarios for Hazbin Hotel, and here is one of them! :)

Sit back, relax, and let us dive into a chaotic afterlife, where even a bit of reprieve from dishonesty and hypocrisy isn’t possible…until now.

Angel Dust's first impression of you is the following: a cute weirdo who dressed like a doll and didn’t smile much. What was even more tragic is that you actually believed there is a chance for sinners to be redeemed, and that the only to do that is complete Charlie’s half-assed rehabilitation program. You still do, even your progress hasn’t gotten you one step closer to Heaven’s pearly gates and the next Extermination is in six months. Five months actually, but who's counting?

That was around the time when he had to go back to work. He didn’t want to, but he knew if he didn’t…well, he didn’t want to think about it. Valentino is a psychopathic freak. He promised to make him, Angel, a big star in Hell’s entertainment industry, and instead fucked him over six ways from Sunday with false promises.

Long hours, shitty pay. No time to even take a nap in his dressing room because of course Big Daddy Val had his favorite toy’s schedule booked until he couldn't walk anymore and needed a stiff drink. When his afterlife seemed to take a nosedive for worse, and after Husk knocked some sense into him, he started finding letters under his door.

At first glance Angel could tell that they weren’t from his fans. No one’s gonna go out of their way and buy expensive paper to type it on, shove in an envelope, and put a wax seal on it just to praise him for his acting skills and share their wildest fantasies starring yours truly. No. This was….someone else.

He honestly didn't know how to describe the context of these letters because he had never received something like this from anyone who did not expect anything from him in PS or PPS. The sender would write either a short or long letter. The short letter was about half a page long; the sender would ask how he was feeling and ask him one question. What was his favorite food? What is the color he would never wear? The sender included a little about themselves too, as if to encourage him to respond. The longer ones started the same, with a greeting and almost the same stuff written in the shorter ones, but they shared how their day went with him, even the stupid, mundane shit they do every day as a part-time clerk at an antique shop and when they come home. The longer ones were at least two pages long. Some stuff made him roll his eyes, made him laugh…but it was the closing sentences, even as they vary from letter to letter, always jerked his heart in a way which made him both sad and happy at the same time.

I’m happy I’ve met you.

Thank you for being here.

Good night and have pleasant dreams.

You are stronger than you think, Angel.

I hope I can receive a letter from you someday.

You made a lot of progress today in Charlie’s exercises. I’m proud of you.

You’re doing great.

Angel might be a bit of a dummy….but he could tell right away who had been sending him the letters. The bit about Charlie’s exercises…there were only a few people attending that day. Vaggie, Sir Wet Noodles, and you. Vaggie wouldn’t write this kind of shit, and definitely not the wannabe overlord. You. You’ve helped him get through it with these letters and you never expected him to reply back. It’s as if you just wanted your words to reach him through Val’s sickly red smoke and hold his hand in your gloved one.

Naturally…the best way he can say thanks…for caring about him in your roundabout way…is to write a letter back. Maybe have a drink at Husk’s bar and talk about shitty coworkers or why Smiles never stops smiling? He’s not sure, but he’ll figure it out somehow. Sex isn’t the only thing he’s good at. And he’d like to get to know you a little more too.

Taglist

@angelltheninth

@tired-of-life-86

@nixie-writes

@frompeach

@riddle-simp

@likesugarandcyanide

@witch-of-the-writing-desk

@22carolina08

@angel-tsugikuni-kamukura

@justamegafan

@saltyfruitbat

@lanxianschoenheit

@trecllllllll

@vikkirosko

@imperfectbloodmoon

@theunknowntravel3r

@thatstonedwriter

@isuckatwritingsobenice

@chroniccorvus

@food-theorys-blog

@doc-tooth

[stevie-petey]

episode five: the flea and the acrobat

“Steve, what-” He pushes past you in a frenzied hurry to get to his car, but you grab his jacket and force him to stop. “Answer me! Is Nancy okay? Was Jonathan with her?” Steve whips around and sneers at you. “Why do you even care about them? About him?” “Because we’re friends,” you say, and for the first time you really mean it. Nancy has become someone you’d call a friend.  Another cruel laugh escapes Steve’s lips. “Friends, huh? Yeah, those two looked real fucking cozy in her bed.”

summary: you and dustin have a long overdue Sibling Moment, at will's funeral you and jonathan exchange information and surprise ! it's all horrible news ! nancy has awful timing and when you leave her alone with jonathan one damn time you and steve end up trauma bonded on her front porch #bffs.

rating: general, though there's the use of guns in here for plot point sake, as well as cursing

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

words: 14.4k (whew)

before you swing in: i'm back gang ! fall semester is almost done and i am in the trenches, so i leave y'all with this monster of a chapter before hell week (i have three finals in one day next week, no i don't want to talk about it). please enjoy this beauty, i had so much fun messing with character relationships in this and it was very ;)

-

With how many times you’ve knocked on the Wheeler’s door this week, you’d think that Mrs. Wheeler would stop looking so surprised when she answers. 

“Y/N?”

You give the woman a small smile. “Hi, Mrs. Wheeler. Is, uh, Mike home?”

“Yes… he stayed home today because of Will. Is there something you need?” The usually friendly woman seems beaten down from this week’s events as well, which you’re understanding of. 

“I was wondering if I could come in and see how he’s doing? Dustin is really shaken up about it, so I figured…” You shrug, trying to come across as a concerned older sister figure rather than a worried and horrible babysitter who should really retire. 

Mrs. Wheeler places a hand over her heart. “Oh, Y/N. You’ve always been so good with the boys, of course you can check on him. It means a lot that you care.”

Oh, no problem, but if we’re being honest I’m here because I’m scared I accidentally let your son get involved with the supernatural and dangerous monster men thingies that I honestly can’t wrap my head around!

Of course you can’t tell the woman this, so instead you thank her and let yourself in. Immediately you head towards the basement and fling the door open. You like Mrs. Wheeler, but the amount of times her son has snuck out of the house without her noticing honestly concerns you, so you’re a bit unsure if Mike even is home.

You get deja-vu from a few days ago as you head down the basement steps, once again hearing the three boys panicking as they try to hide El. Unlike last time, which had only annoyed you, seeing them scramble to hide the girl makes you relieved. 

They’re here, alive and well. You’d let Steve distract you from your worrying on the drive over, so the relief hits you like a damn truck. 

“Oh god not again!” Dustin groans when he sees you, worried that he’s once again going to get yelled at for being at the Wheeler’s with El. 

You ignore his theatrics and walk over to the girl, who is laying face down on the couch. You notice that she’s dressed in one of Nancy’s old costumes and a blonde wig that suits her well. What the hell did the kids get up to today? 

“Do I want to know why El is dressed like a doll and almost passed out on the couch?” 

“That depends on if you’re going to yell at us again,” Mike says. 

You shoot him a glare, but you guess he has a point. The last few times you’ve been with the kids you’ve ended up yelling at them one way or another. You feel bad about that, but then again: they won’t stop getting into trouble. 

El manages to raise her head from the couch, “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, sweetie,” you approach the couch and gently nudge her to the side so that you can sit down and place her head on your lap. She nuzzles into your warmth and lets out a sleepy sigh. “And to answer your question, Mike: I’m not here to yell at you guys. I just… Please tell me what’s been going on. I know I haven’t been here for you guys like I should’ve, but-”

“Your boyfriend needed you more,” Mike quips, though there’s some resentment in his voice that causes you to feel even worse.

Dustin hits his shoulder against the boy. “He isn’t her boyfriend, but she couldn’t just abandon him; he needed her. Besides, we have been sneaking off without telling her anything.” 

You cast an appreciative smile at your brother, thankful that even though he’s a pain in your ass, he always has your back like you do his. It’s something he’s always done with you and Mike; being so similar, you and him are constantly butting heads, yet Dustin has always been the first to defend you against his friend (even if you’ve never needed it in the first place). 

“I’m sorry, okay? I messed up, but I’m here now and I really, really need to know if I’m being paranoid. What mess did you dweebs manage to get into?”

The three boys suddenly can’t look at you. Their heads turn in different directions, Lucas scratches the back of his neck, Mike kicks at a board piece on the ground, and Dustin whistles a tune. 

Your shoulders slump. “Is it that bad?”

“It started this morning,” 

“Lucas!”

“Mike, she could help us! The weirdo clearly likes her,” he gestures over to El practically asleep in your lap, “plus, she’s the only sane one left in this group. I need backup.” 

“Backup?” You ask. 

Mike throws his head back in annoyance and lets out a groan as if he’s dying. Truly, this kid is the most dramatic person you’ve ever met. “Fine, we’ll tell you everything if you agree to stop hounding us for sneaking around. Will is missing, he’s our friend, and no one in the party gets left behind.”

You think this over for a moment, weighing the pros and cons in your head. “I will agree to those terms if you guys agree to keep me updated on everything at all times.” 

The boys try to argue, but you don’t let them. 

“I mean it, another person is missing. Nancy’s friend, Barb, was in the same woods that Will was, the same woods that you guys keep insisting on trekking through without supervision. This is serious, guys. Whatever, or whoever, is out there… it’s dangerous, and I-” You swallow down some tears that claw against your throat. “I can’t lose anyone else, okay?” 

The mood in the room is solemn, the three boys silent as your words hang in the air. Naturally, you try to lighten things up. “I’ll deny this if anyone asks, but unfortunately I love you boys.” 

As expected, they immediately begin to gag and pretend that they’ve been impaled with something as they all scream “ew” and “yuck” at your words. You laugh, which causes El to laugh as well, and for a moment it feels like nothing has changed. 

“So?” You ask after the boys have finished their gross theatrics. 

Dustin is the one who makes the decision for them. “We promise to keep you updated, for real this time.” 

“Good, now again I ask: why is El dressed like a doll and half asleep on my lap as we speak?” 

Lucas, Dustin, and Mike begin to talk all at once. 

“Mike radioed for me to head over, claiming he heard Will on the walkie.”

“Yeah, and then they radioed me to join. Sorry, by the way. I would’ve woken you up, but you and Jonathan looked so cozy in your bed so-”

“I thought you said they weren’t dating?”

“Not now, Mike.”

It continues like this for a while as they explain everything they did today. Sneaking El into the school, having to to talk to Mr. Clark, attending the assembly for Will, Mike fighting some idiotic kids for making fun of him before El made the head bully pee himself. 

You look down at the girl in your lap. “You can really make people pee themselves?”

“Sometimes,” she shrugs. 

“Lovely.” 

“That’s what you focus on, Y/N?” Mike asks you, and you simply shrug your shoulders in response. Sue you for still having doubts about Will being alive, you’ve gotten your hopes up one too many times. 

“Are you suggesting I believe that you heard Will through your cheap little walkies?” 

Dustin puts his head in his hands in defeat while Lucas gestures over to you. “See, she’s the sane backup I need.” 

Mike groans at you once more. “No, that’s why we snuck El into the radio room and used the heathkit that Mr. Clark got us. Keep up!”

“What, did you tell the guy that El was a new student?” 

“Don’t be stupid, we told Mr. Clark that she’s my cousin.” 

“Uhh, Y/N,” Dustin laughs nervously, motioning for you to stop talking. “You promised you’d be cool about everything if we told you.”

Knowing that your brother is right, you deflate a bit against the couch and start playing with El’s hair. “I am being cool, I just have so many questions.”

“Oh, just wait.” Lucas snorts. 

Mike now crosses the room to stand in front of you, as if he’s gearing up to tell you some major news. “We heard Will on the heathkit. El, she managed to use her powers to communicate with him.”

Like always, the seriousness in his voice concerns yet intrigues you. “Lucas, do you really believe that it was Will?”

The boy nods at you, his face grim. You don’t like how scared he looks, because out of the entire group he’s the one who is always the most reasonable. If he’s willingly telling you that he thinks it was Will, then you have to start taking the situation at hand seriously. 

“Okay, tell me exactly what you guys heard.”

And they do. One by one they tell you about Will’s pleading for his mom, telling her that it’s like home but cold and dark, the banging that followed after his words, how El had used so much of her energy trying to maintain the communication before the radio caught fire and she was too exhausted to do much else. 

“So, you believe us now?” Mike asks after you’re silent for a moment. 

You look down at the girl in your lap, in awe that someone so small and shy could hold so much power. This time you believe what the boys tell you without much conviction. Now that you know that Barb is missing as well, lost in the same woods as Will, the same woods where you found El, the photos from Nancy and the figure she claims she saw… It’s all starting to come together. 

You’re not sure exactly what you’re caught up in, but you know it’s too late to back out. Whatever is going on, whatever thing took Will and transported him to some unknown place with possibly the same powers that El has, you know it’s your responsibility to handle it. 

“Yes,” you respond, and the boys all sigh with relief. “Just one question though,”

Dustin sighs. “Yes, Y/N?”

“How did it take you guys so long to set fire to the school? Honestly, Jonathan and I thought it’d happen sooner.” 

“You’re hilarious.” Mike deadpans, which only causes you and El to giggle together again. 

“I hate to ruin the good mood, but we seriously need to figure out what Will meant when he said that wherever he is ‘is like home’.” Your brother interrupts. 

Mike spins to face him. “He said, ‘like home, but dark’, right?”

“And ‘empty’.” Lucas adds. 

“‘Empty’ and ‘cold’. Wait, did he say cold?” Dustin asks the group.

You nod your head. “You mentioned cold earlier.”

Lucas throws his hands up in the air in frustration. “The stupid radio kept going in and out!” 

“It’s like riddles in the dark…” Your brother sighs, which you hum in agreement to. 

Will’s words were pretty vague, but you wish you had been there at the middle school as well. Maybe if you had heard the tone of Will’s voice, you’d be of more help.

Mike continues to mumble about “like home” and “dark” for a few more seconds, now pacing around the room. You watch from the couch, El still resting with her head in your lap, and as you’re playing with her hair she finally speaks up after having been silent for a while. 

“Upside down.”

“What’d she say?” Lucas asks.

“Upside down? I guess?” Is all you can tell him. 

“What?” 

While you, Dustin, and Lucas are confused by El’s words, Mike rushes over to the forgotten board from a few days ago and sits down. He frantically flips it over and motions for you to come and join him. You hesitate for a second, but he only doubles down on his waving you over, so you gently lift El’s head up and walk over. 

“God, took you long enough.”

“I was literally three feet away from you on the couch, why did I have to move?”

Mike ignores your question and begins to explain the thirty million thoughts flying through his head at the moment, “When El showed us where Will was, she flipped the board over, remember?” 

You nod, slowly understanding where he’s going with this. “She flipped it upside down.”

“Exactly! Dark. Empty.” 

Lucas looks over at you and Dustin, unamused. “Do you understand what he’s talking about?”

“No,” your brother says at the same time as you saying “the upside down part? Yes. The dark and empty part? No.”

Mike tries to explain further. “Guys, come on, think about it. When El took us to find Will, she took us to his house, right?” 

“You mean last night when they found Will’s body in the water?” You ask, not really understanding where Mike is going with all this. 

“Like Y/N said, he wasn’t there.” Lucas reminds everyone, but Mike still tries to get his point across.

“But what if he was there? What if we just couldn’t see him, what if he was on the other side?”

You think about Jonathan’s words from earlier today in the car while on the way to the funeral home, trying to calm down from his fight with his mom. He had told you about how Joyce was convinced that Will was in the walls within their home, that the body they saw in the morgue hadn’t been his. 

“Hold on,” you interrupt Mike, “you guys said that there was some, like, banging where Will was, right? And that he had been begging his mom to come get him?” 

“Yeah, it was like some sick sci-fi movie!” 

You glare at your brother. “Ignoring you. Anyways, did you guys hear Mrs. Byers on the radio as well?” 

Mike shakes his head. “No, all we could hear was the banging and something... Growling, I guess.”

Knowing Joyce, you’d bet money that the banging had been her. You know that the next time you go over to their house, the walls might actually be destroyed, but she’d been right all along. Will is alive, he has to be. The pieces that you’ve slowly been collecting this past week fall together one by one. 

“That explains the walls and the weird monster thing in Jonathan’s picture,” you mumble to yourself, but Lucas hears you. 

“Do I wanna know?”

You purse your lips. “Let’s focus on figuring out where Will is, then I’ll tell you guys what I’ve been up to this week.” 

“Okay, so,” Mike begins again, now grabbing the board game and flipping it onto its normal, light side. “What if this is Hawkins,” he flips it upside down onto its dark side, “and this is where Will is?” 

“The Upside Down.” You finish for him. 

“The Upside Down.” Mike confirms. 

Slowly Dustin follows along. “Like the Vale of Shadows.”

Somehow you always end up the one confused when it comes to these damn kids. “The Vale of Shadows? What the hell is that?”

Dustin runs over to the bookshelf and pulls out a thick binder full of paper, but as he flips through it you realize it’s a rulebook for Dungeons and Dragons. He lands on the page he’s looking for, and you feel your shoulders drop. Great. More confusing terminology ahead. 

“‘The Vale of Shadows’,” he begins to read, “‘is a dimension that is a dark reflection or echo of our world. It is a place of decay and death. A plane out of phase. A place of monsters’.”

“Wait, didn’t you say something about a monster, Y/N?” Lucas asks, but you shush him so you don't miss whatever else Dustin will say next. 

“‘It is right next to you, and you don’t even see it’.” He finishes. 

His words hang in the air for a moment, but Mike, always somehow three steps ahead, pieces it together. “An alternate dimension.” 

Lucas finally accepts what’s happening. “But how do we get there?” 

“I’m sorry, we?” You look between all three boys, their faces still young and holding the childish innocence that you once had yourself. “No, there’s no ‘we’ in this. I may not know much about alternate dimensions, but there’s no way I’m letting you guys try to find and go to one.”

Mike rolls his eyes at you. “Well what choice do we have? Do you want to tell that mean police chief about this?”

“I…well… I mean-no.” You sink down in the seat, annoyed that Mike is right. No way Hopper believes any of this, you hardly believe any of it. 

“Can we cast shadow walk?” Dustin focuses back on the conversation at hand.

You don’t bother to ask what that means. 

“In real life, dummy.” Lucas reminds him. 

“We can’t shadow walk, but…” Your brother’s eyes land on El, who is still laying on the couch, silent and unmoving. “Maybe she can.”

The four of you turn towards the girl, and Mike voices his own question. “Do you know how we get there? To the Upside Down?”

El meets your eyes, and you can see that she’s hesitant about something. She’s been quieter than usual, almost suspiciously so, and you know that the more Mike figures things out, the more hesitant she becomes. She shakes her head at you, and you give her a sad smile. 

Lucas flings his head back and groans. “Oh my god!”

Mike and Dustin seem to be thinking the same thing, disappointed by El’s lack of help. You don’t blame them, also frustrated by the fact that it feels like you guys are so close to discovering something big. You can feel hope reignite in your chest; you haven’t been this close to an explanation about Will all week. This has to be it. It’s the only way you can explain everything that’s been happening lately. 

Speaking of which:

“Remember how I mentioned Barb and a possible monster?” 

You tell them everything, about Jonathan’s worry for his mom, how their phone got charred by lightning, Hopper’s theory that Will had been running from something, Nancy and Barb attending Steve’s party and how Barb had been on her own near the woods. You tell them about how Barb has been missing ever since and the photos Jonathan took (leaving out the horrible ones of Nancy) that Nancy brought to your attention at the funeral home. The figure in the background, looming over Barb, how it didn’t seem to have a face.

Then you tell them about Joyce and her spiral, though now you know she actually wasn’t crazy. You tell them about the Christmas lights and Will communicating with her through them. How she claimed that she could hear him through the wall and that the body in the quarry hadn’t been him. 

When you’re finally done catching them up, they stare at you with their jaws open. 

“Dustin,” Mike says, “remind me to never leave your sister out ever again.”

“Noted.” 

– 

The events from the day had left El exhausted and she refuses to say anything else after you explain everything to the boys. Her eyes droop while Mike interrogates you for answers you can’t give him, so finally you take pity on the poor girl and tell him that you’ll talk more in the morning. 

Mike isn’t too happy about being shut down, but when you point towards a half asleep El he reluctantly gives in. “Fine, but as soon as the funeral is over we’re discussing this further.”

Right. Will’s funeral is tomorrow. 

“Yeah, sure,” you tuck your hair behind your ears and motion over to Dustin. “We need to go, it’s late and mom will be wondering where we are.” 

He tries to argue with you but you just gather your things and head for the stairs. There’s still a lot you need to think about and a million things you need to sort before the funeral tomorrow. Did Jonathan even buy the coffin? Who had made the arrangements after you and him left the funeral home with Nancy?

There’s a lot you need to talk about when you call him tonight. 

The bike ride home with Lucas and Dustin is a quiet one, both boys understanding that you need some time to think about everything you learned tonight. 

You make a list in your head of what you do know, but it’s a frustratingly short list. 

1) El, one way or another, has powers that enable her to communicate with Will in some weird upside down universe that you can’t actually get to (can you even count this as something you know?)

2) Hopper was right: Will went missing because he was running from something (probably the same faceless thing that’s in Jonathan’s photo). 

3) Whatever took Will also took Barb, bringing Nancy into this wonderfully confusing mess (you still don’t know if her involvement is a good or bad thing). 

Everything else? You have no fucking clue what’s going on. 

When you get home with Dustin, it’s late; the two of you have to sneak past your mom, who fell asleep with Mews on her lap in the living room. Dustin heads straight for his room but you stop him, motioning for him to come into yours for a second. 

“What-”

“Shh!” You quickly shut your door to ensure that your mom won’t hear anything. 

Dustin groans. “I thought you said you weren’t gonna yell at me?”

You roll your eyes at him. “I yell at you guys twice after years of patience, now suddenly I’m a screaming monster,” he doesn’t say anything and flings himself onto the bean bag by your bed. “Anyways, we’re long overdue for a code blue.” 

Your brother shoots up from the bean bag, eyes wide. “No.”

“Yes,” you join him on the bean bag. “Code blue time, we’re going to talk about our feelings after the hellish week we’ve had. C’mon, you know the drill.” 

Code blue was something the two of you came up with when your dad left. You had been twelve when it happened, Dustin had been nine. It’d been a really rough few months for you guys, dealing with the betrayal of your dad while also moving away from your hometown in Virginia all within a year. Neither of you had adjusted well to the sudden changes, and though you were angry and bitter about what had happened, the moment you saw that it was affecting your brother you decided to implement code blue. 

It’s simple, really. Whoever calls for a code blue gets to talk about or ask whatever they want while the other is required to answer. Originally it was so that you could force Dustin into telling you his feelings, but over the years it’s become a way to bond with each other and know that no matter what you’ll be there for one another. No half truths or a vague “I’m fine”; it’s a time for you guys to be vulnerable with one another without using it as leverage against the other. 

Dustin plops his head back down. “Fine, but I’m tired so can this be quick?”

“Hey, no complaining during code blue. That’s like, rule number one.” 

“Y/N.” His tone is one of annoyance and you know that if you don’t start talking soon then you’ll lose his interest.

“Right, sorry. Okay,” you clear your throat and face your brother. “Today’s code blue topic is this: I’m worried about you getting your hopes up about Will. We don’t know that he’s alive just yet.” 

As expected, Dustin is unhappy with what you’ve said. “We do know that he’s alive, I heard him on the heathkit. He’s alive, Y/N.” He sees the uncertainty on your face and doubles down on what he’s saying. “He is.”

You bite your lip, scared that you’ll say the wrong thing. “Dustin, nothing is certain. Even though we’re definitely onto something, and while I believe that you heard Will on the radio, that doesn’t change the fact that there’s something else out there that wants to hurt him. I mean, he’s trapped in some weird alternate dimension that we have no idea how to even get into. I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

You think about the way your brother’s face fell when they pulled Will’s body out of the water. How the hope that had been in his eyes immediately died alongside his childhood naivety. He had built all of his hope upon a shaky foundation; the moment it collapsed he fell apart. 

“Look I know you’re trying to look out for me, but Will is a part of the party. He’s our friend, we can’t just lose hope and leave him behind. He needs us.” Dustin speaks with so much certainty and an aura of maturity that almost makes you forget that he’s twelve. 

“I’m not saying it’s dangerous to have hope, but I need you to promise me that you’ll protect yourself from whatever happens next. How’s that sound?”

Dustin thinks for a moment, tapping a finger against his chin. “Hmm, I think I can make that deal if you promise the same thing. I mean, c’mon, it’s obvious that you’re the sensitive one out of the two of us. You and hope? Doomed.” 

You laugh, knowing he’s right. You’ve always been branded by hope; hopeful for love, for dreams, and for those who may not always deserve it. You and hope haven’t always gotten along, but she’s become a familiar friend. 

“I think you’ve got yourself a deal. Now, it’s late and I have to call Jonathan and catch him up on everything, so let’s conclude code blue with its mandatory hug.” 

“Woah woah woah, I don’t think we gotta-”

Dustin’s words become muffled as you throw yourself on top of him and squish him into a hug. He squirms against you for a second, claiming he can’t breathe, but you shush him and force him to accept the hug. Though you won’t ever tell him this, losing Will has only made you more appreciative of having a wonderfully annoying little brother. 

After code blue, Dustin goes to his room claiming that “alternate dimensions are super draining”, and before he leaves you tell him to be ready tomorrow by nine for the funeral and that your mom will take him. You’ll be at the Byers’ helping Jonathan. 

Once he’s gone you give yourself a few moments to sit in silence, letting the events from today settle over you. It seems like all you’ve felt this week is exhaustion and hurt and at the rate everything is going, there’s no telling how long you’ll feel this way. 

The moment you’re done wallowing you roll off the bean bag and walk over to your desk to call Jonathan. You’re honestly not sure what you’ll even tell him tonight, there’s no way you’ll be able to cover everything before the night ends. The two of you have a long day tomorrow, so you figure you’ll have to make do with the limited time you have and summarize. 

Jonathan answers after a few rings. “How’d your little secret mission go?”

You make a face. “Is it even a secret mission if I told you I was going on it?”

“It is if you refuse to tell me what you did during it.” 

“Touche, bee.” 

He laughs, which sends a cascading warmth throughout your body. You can envision him perfectly on the other end of the line, leaning against his kitchen wall with the phone wire wrapped around his finger as he absent mindedly fiddles with it while he talks to you. 

You clear your throat and shake the thought from your mind, you called him for a reason. “Anyways… we need to talk.”

Jonathan is silent for a moment and you can feel the playfulness fade away. “Yeah, you first though. You already know what Nance and I were up to.” 

Nance?

Awesome. Cool. Totally not going to be consumed by that later. 

“Right. Uh, well. I went looking for Dustin because the other night when I was with the boys we stumbled upon this, well, this little girl.” 

“A girl?”

“Yeah, she’s bald.”

“Okay… is that important or…?”

“Unsure, but it felt important to tell you. Sorry,” you take a deep breath, “I’m not sure why I’m so nervous right now.”

“It’s okay, bug. It’s me, you can tell me anything.” 

No I can’t.

“Sure, yeah, totally. Um, so anyways we found her, her name is El, and she’s our only connection to Will right now.”

A beat of silence. “What do you mean?”

“Well, she kinda has… powers?”

“Powers,”

“Powers.”

You hear Jonathan sigh on the other end of the call. “Bug, you’re not seriously telling me that the boys have somehow dragged you into one of their little schemes, right?”

Yeah, he’s reacting exactly how you figured he would. 

“I know what it sounds like, but Jonathan… How else would you explain everything going on? Will disappeared, Barb did too, your mom and her lights. Now that thing Nancy saw in the woods, which I know you definitely have an update that will only further prove how weird this all is.”

Again Jonathan is quiet, and this time you envision him pacing little circles in the kitchen as he carefully thinks through your words, trying to piece it all together. “We developed the photo again and you’re right, there’s something behind Barb in it.” 

You close your eyes and exhale. “So, you believe me now?”

“Guess I don’t really have a choice.”

“You don’t.” 

“Then we’ll talk about it after the funeral tomorrow.” He concedes. 

“Yeah,” you let out a shaky breath, “the funeral. I’ll make my way over the second I wake up tomorrow to help with everything.” 

“You don’t have to-”

“I know.” 

More silence settles over the two of you. It’s still hard to wrap your head around the fact that it was only a week ago where everything was normal. No disappearances, no weird feelings, no heartbreak and confusion. 

“Bug?” Jonathan is practically whispering. 

“Yeah?”

“Lonnie is here.”

The words hit you hard. Why the fuck is Lonnie back in Hawkins? “Do you need to spend the night? I can finally bake those cookies for your mom and we can watch whatever you want.” 

“No,” he sounds exhausted. “He hasn’t been a problem yet, and I can’t…” 

“Leave your mom with him?” You finish. 

“He thinks she’s crazy and her axing down one of our walls doesn’t help-”

So you were right, Joyce did indeed break down her wall to try and get to Will.

“Jonathan, it’s okay. I understand, stay with her and get some rest. Sleep, that’s an order.”

He lets out a weak laugh. “I love you, bug.” 

Like how I love you?

“I love you too, bee.” The words burn your tongue. 

“Goodnight,”

“Sleep well.”

– 

You’re up before the sun this morning.

You spent hours tossing and turning last night, hardly getting any sleep. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to turn your mind off. All you could think about was Jonathan, his smile and his voice and the way he kisses your forehead whenever you’ve done something especially endearing to him. You were surrounded by him last night. 

Now you stand outside his front door holding a tin of cookies, dressed in a simple knitted black dress and tights with mary janes that used to belong to your mom for Will’s funeral. The shoes are your favorite, but now you’re afraid they’re tainted by the occasion you’re wearing them for. 

It’s Lonnie who opens the door. “Well if it isn’t little miss Henderson. I missed ya, sweetheart.” 

You haven’t seen the man in two years, having been fourteen when he left Joyce and the kids. Since then he’s only aged horribly, his eyes slightly yellowed and his beer gut now more prominent. Clearly he still prefers alcohol over human company. Figures. 

“Can’t say the same about you.” Your shoulder hits his as you walk in and he lets out an annoyed huff. 

The man follows you but you pay him no attention. Instead you head straight towards Joyce and the second she sees you she runs into your arms; you only have a few seconds to place down the cookies before she’s in your arms. 

“Y/N! You’re here!” She squeezes you tight and you melt into her embrace. She’s always given the best hugs whenever you’ve needed the comfort, but now it’s your turn to be the one offering the support. 

“Of course, Mrs. Byers. Who else will make sure Jonathan is ready on time?” You mean for it to be a joke, but the way that Joyce’s eyes harden tells you that the funeral is a sore topic for her. She still doesn’t believe that Will is dead and it breaks your fucking heart that you can’t tell her she’s right. 

Joyce wipes away a tear before pulling away. She goes to say something before seeing the tin of cookies on the counter; she immediately pulls you into another hug. “Oatmeal raisin,” 

“They’re your favorite.”

“And Will’s.”

“And Will’s favorite. You know I gotta take care of my Byers.” You whisper into her ear, feeling Lonnie’s eyes on you during the exchange. You have to bite back your tongue, though his presence always makes you feel a type of anger that’s normally foreign to you. 

Joyce pulls away and you know it’s taking everything in her to give you a smile. “You’re too good, sweetie,” she tucks a loose strand of hair that came out of its braid. “Jonathan’s in his room.” 

You grab her hand and give it a squeeze, trying to convey just how much you love and admire her into a simple gesture, before letting go and walking over to Jonathan’s door. 

He’s struggling with his tie when you let yourself in. He’s dressed in the only nice white button down he owns, something he bought for his aunt’s funeral a few years ago that now hardly fits. You can tell that he’s getting frustrated with the tie, so you walk over and help. 

“Here, let me,” you wrap your fingers around the piece of cloth and quickly fashion it into a tie. The two of you don’t talk while you fix the clothing and you know that today will be a wordless day with Jonathan. 

When you’ve finished, you begin to pull away before he places his hands around yours. He cups your hands at the base of his neck as they rest against his collarbones; your fingers are still wrapped around his tie. He squeezes your hands and brings them to his lips and kisses your knuckles so softly that you feel all the love within you simmer.

You know he’s only trying to express his gratitude for you but the butterflies in your stomach make you feel faint. 

You’d do anything for him. 

– 

The funeral has a surprising turnout, not because you ever doubted Will’s incredible ability to be loved by anyone he meets, but because you see faces in the crowd who you’ve never seen before. 

You stand behind Jonathan during the funeral with your hand on his shoulder as he sits with his family in a weak attempt to provide comfort during the service. It’s really fucking bleak. Your other hand is on Dustin’s shoulder as he stands next to you while Mike and Lucas are to the right of him.

Your mother is in the back of the crowd having known she’d cry the entire service, and faintly you can hear her blow her nose into a tissue and sniffle. 

The pastor drones on for a while about how a tragedy like this won’t separate everyone from God’s love, but if attending the funeral for a twelve year old boy is how God shows his love then you want no part in it. Joyce sits stoic alongside Lonnie, Jonathan hasn’t moved at all since the service began; they’re a family brought together by grief. This isn’t love. 

“Just wait until we tell Will that Jennifer Hayes was crying at his funeral,” Dustin snickers, effectively breaking you from your thoughts. You hit his shoulder and shush him as Mrs. Wheeler reminds the boys to be quiet. You flash her an apologetic smile for your brother’s actions. 

You know how firmly the boys believe Will is alive and you honestly can’t say you don’t think so as well, but nothing is certain. Even if he’s alive there’s no way you guys can get to wherever he is; you wish the boys would use some caution with how quickly they’re building their hopes up. 

After the service you walk up to Will’s grave and bend down. You bring one of the yellow roses from the funeral director up to your lips and whisper, “If you’re out there little bee, please, come home.”

Before dropping the rose in you give it a gentle kiss, inhaling its sweet scent and watching as it falls down onto his coffin. Jonathan finds you there crouched down and sees the rose right as it lands. He doesn’t say anything, he just grabs your hand and helps you stand up to bring you over to where Nancy is waiting a couple yards away. 

“Hey, Y/N.” 

You don’t have it in you to do anything other than wave at the girl, but she seems to understand and gives you a sympathetic smile. 

Soon the three of you are settled on the ground with your backs against an old rickety fence behind some tombstones. Jonathan is in the middle of you and Nancy and you rest your head against his shoulder, already exhausted from the day. It’s not the coziest spot to be sitting, but at least you’re away from prying eyes. 

Once you’re seated, Jonathan finally talks for the first time today. “Alright, I already told you this over the phone last night bug, but Nancy was right. After we redeveloped the photo there’s definitely some kind of figure behind Barb, and we thought maybe if my mom has been right all along about some monster-”

“Then she’s right about Will being alive.” You finish for him, having already come to the same conclusion yourself.

“And Barb has to be alive if Will is.” Nancy says, and there’s a spark of hope in her voice that surprises you. You’re ashamed to admit that you didn’t think her and Barb were that close, but seeing how worried she’s been for the girl makes you realize that you’d been a fool not to have seen it sooner. Barb was Nancy’s closest friend. You don’t know what you’d do if Jonathan ever disappeared like Barb did. 

Jonathan pushes your head with his shoulder. “Anything you want to share with the class?”

You look between him and Nancy and try to decide how much you should tell them. While you’ve already told Jonathan a little bit about El, you’re not sure if you can trust the information with Nancy. However, seeing her urgency to find her friend leaves you feeling a bit safer disclosing the information to her. 

“It started the night after Will disappeared…”

It takes a while to tell them everything, and while Jonathan butts in a few times to ask questions, Nancy remains silent and eagerly listens. She nods when she’s supposed to, engages with the story as if her life depends on it. You’re incredibly impressed by her intelligence and openness to the situation at hand. Had it been anyone else they would’ve scoffed at you and called you insane. But Nancy? She holds onto every word and trusts that what you’re saying is true. 

You’re starting to admire her, as painful as it is to admit. But Nancy Wheeler is fucking brilliant, there’s no denying that. 

When you’re finally done explaining El and the Upside Down, Nancy finally speaks. “Let me make sure I’m understanding correctly, you’ve been helping my brother harbor a girl with superpowers in my basement?”

Huh. 

You hadn’t thought of it that way. 

“Ya know, you make a good point.”

Thankfully she laughs and doesn’t seem too upset, which relieves you. You reassure her that they’re fine and that El is someone you trust, and Nancy seems to take comfort in your words. It’s not that you purposely hid the situation from her, but looking back you definitely could’ve used her help now that you know how cool she is. 

As the two of you are laughing, Jonathan pulls out a piece of paper. 

“What’s that?” You ask. 

He shows you. “I printed out a map of Hawkins and drew x’s on every place we know for sure the monster has been.” 

“Two questions: one, so we’re officially calling it the monster now? And two, why don’t you ever put in this much effort for school projects we do together?” 

Jonathan flicks the paper in your face. “Funny. And yes, we’re calling it the monster now. Can you pay attention please?”

“Sorry,”

Nancy shuffles in closer and her head is practically on Jonathan’s shoulder as well (you’re choosing to ignore that) and she studies the paper and points to one of the x’s. “So that’s-”

“Steve’s house,” Jonathan points to another x, “and that’s the woods where they found Will’s bike and where Y/N last saw him,” the familiar feeling of guilt washes over you, “and that’s my house.” 

Nancy reaches over Jonathan and grabs your hand, surprising you both. “You saw Will last?”

“Yeah,” you swallow, your mouth now suddenly dry. 

“I’m sorry,” her tone is sincere.

“We should get back to the map…” You dodge, highly uncomfortable with Nancy’s comfort. You appreciate it, but you’ve never been good at accepting help from others. 

“Right, sorry,” Nancy clears her throat. “The x’s, they’re all so close.”

Jonathan observes the interaction with slight confusion but decides not to say anything besides, “Yeah, exactly. I mean, it’s all within a mile or something. Whatever this thing is, it’s not traveling far.”

There’s a look in his eyes as he speaks, one of determination and disdain for whatever that thing is, and before you can tell him no, it’s Nancy who voices your concern first. “You want to go out there.”

Jonathan nods and you feel uneasy. “I trust you won’t try going alone again, right?” It’s a question, but he hears the underlying try and I’ll kill you hidden beneath your words.

“No, not this time… but we might not find anything.” 

“I found something,” Nancy reminds him, which you nod at. She’s the only one out of the three of you who has seen the monster in person, and if you had to place any bets, she’s the one who will be able to figure out what the fuck to do with it. 

Actually, what are you guys going to do?

“Do we, like, have a plan for after we’re done monster sightseeing? Or are we just going to take a look at it and call it a night?” You ask the two of them. 

Nancy bites her lip and looks down, also unsure what exactly the three of you are supposed to do. It’s Jonathan who remains stone faced, and there’s a newfound sense of confidence within him that you’ve never seen when he boldly states, “We kill it.”

“Alright there tough guy,” you hit his chest with your hand and snort. “Sure, we kill it. Obviously.”

“Well, do you have any other ideas? For all we know, Mike and the others will be out there in those woods later looking for Will.”

“We don’t know that-”

“Bug, humor me, how did they find El again?”

You’re silent. He’s right, if you guys don’t go and find this monster before tonight then there’s a high chance the boys and El will find it themselves. Fuck. 

“Nancy,” you say to the girl, “it seems like we’re now officially monster hunters.”

– 

Of course Lonnie has a goddamn handgun just casually stored in his glove box.

You’re not entirely on board with this whole gun situation and apparently Nancy isn’t either, immediately questioning Jonathan when he picks the lock to get the gun.

“What, you want to find this thing and take another photo? Yell at it? Better yet, why doesn’t Y/N just round up the boys and El and have them take it down.”  

“Okay, hey,” you point at Jonathan. “Out of line.” 

He mumbles an apology under his breath while Nancy claims that this is all a terrible idea. You’re not sure where you fall in regards to what’s happening, but you’d say at the moment you’re a solid mix between Jonathan’s no time for nonsense mood and Nancy’s hey let’s slow down hesitation. 

You kick a rock and watch as it dings against Lonnie’s car, which pleases you. “Oh it’s definitely a terrible idea, Nancy. Unfortunately it’s all we have going for us at the moment.” 

Jonathan nods at your words. “She’s right, no one’s going to believe us if we tell them. You know that.” 

“Your mom would.” Nancy responds, jutting her jaw out in defiance. 

You cringe, unsure how Jonathan will respond to what she’s said. Joyce is a sore topic for him, he’s always been so protective of her.

“She’s been through enough,” he sighs, and you hum in agreement. 

Nancy grows more frustrated. “She deserves to know!”

You step in between them. “Look, you’re right. Mrs. Byers deserves to know, but right now she isn’t well enough to handle the idea of her only remaining son actively seeking out a monster that may have taken her other son who could possibly be alive. If we’re wrong or Jonathan gets hurt, it might actually kill her.”

“Yeah, we’ll tell her when this thing is dead.” You note Jonathan’s word choice, saying “when” instead of “if”. In the four years you’ve been his friend, you’ve never seen him so self-assured before. You’d be proud of him if the circumstances weren’t so damn grim. 

“What about the kids?” Nancy finally says after a few seconds of silence. 

“They can’t get involved, I won’t let them.” You tell her and she nods as if expecting you’d say that. 

She gestures over to the funeral home where the crowd of attendees are now gathered for the post burial service. “I know my brother, so you better go and tell him that they need to stay at our house while we deal with the monster. They like you better than they like me, they’ll listen to you if you explain what we’re doing.” 

You’re flattered by her words, honestly. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas listening to you about staying put while you guys go monster hunting? They’d be out the door before you’d be even able to finish saying the phrase “monster hunting”. No way they’ll listen, and you’re about to say exactly that before catching the look Jonathan is giving you. 

You groan at him. “You don’t actually believe they’ll listen to me, right? C’mon, you know those boys as well as I do. This is just a giant DnD game for them at this point.” 

He shrugs, “It doesn’t hurt to try?”

Nancy gives you a hopeful look and bats her eyelashes at you, which, okay, shouldn’t work on you but does. Jonathan does the same, except instead of batting his eyelashes he winks at you and suddenly you’re very confused by the onslaught of emotions that wash over you.

“Ugh, fine. But when they show up in the woods later you guys are on your own!” 

– 

When you step inside the service hall, everyone is gathered into small groups talking amongst themselves. You scan the room for the kids and spot them across the room sitting at a table with Mr. Clark. He’s talking to them about something while holding a paper plate up. You’re not sure what exactly he’s saying to the boys, but they’re leaning in close to him and are listening intently. 

This worries you. 

You try to make your way over as quickly as you can, but being Jonathan’s best friend has some challenges. Every few steps you take you’re stopped by an extended family member of the Byers to ask how you are or a stranger stops to offer you their condolences because you’re close with the family. You do your best to make small talk and thank the people, but you don’t have time to say much else besides, “thank you” or “you were Will’s favorite great aunt”.

By the time you finally get to the table with Mr. Clark and the boys, the man has folded up the paper plate and stabs it with a pen. You really, really don’t want to know whatever the hell this man is explaining to the kids. 

“You create a doorway,” he explains, holding up the plate and smiling at the boys. 

Dustin looks enthralled. “Like a gate?”

“Sure, like a gate. But again, this is all-”

“Theoretical.” Lucas says, nodding his head.

A gate?

What are the odds the boys are talking about a gate to Disneyland?

You sigh, not liking the odds at all.

You slide yourself into Dustin’s chair and force your brother to share with you. He squeaks in surprise and you flash him a tight lipped smile, which causes him to gulp. He knows he’s been busted. 

Mike scoffs at your arrival. “Gee, wonder why you’re here Y/N.”

“Go on, continue this conversation with Mr. Clark here. I wanna hear it.” 

Mr. Clark looks at you uncertainly but Mike simply carries on with the conversation as if you aren’t even here. “But what if this gate already existed?”

“Well, if it did I think we’d know.”

You snort. “Wanna bet?”

Again the man looks at you uncertainly and clears his throat, uncomfortable by your presence. “What I mean to say is that it would disrupt gravity, the magnetic field, our environment.”

“So if there is a gate, it’d be really bad?” You ask, but you already know the answer. 

“Oh, definitely. It might even swallow us up whole!” 

You and the boys look around the table at one another, not at all liking what Mr. Clark is saying. Swallow you guys up whole? That’s not really something you’re interested in. 

Mr. Clark sees your nervousness and shrugs. “Science is neat, but it’s not very forgiving.”

Silence falls upon the table. 

Mr. Clark is such a peachy person.

“Well!” You throw your hands upon the table and the loud noise causes everyone to flinch. “Thank you so much for that lovely information, Mr. Clark. It was truly riveting, but would you mind giving me and the boys a second alone? I just, I want to make sure they’re doing okay after today.” 

You bat your eyes at the man, something you never do, and he clears his throat and excuses himself. The second he’s gone you snap your finger in the boys’ faces. “Hey, listen up. Whatever you guys are planning? Don’t.”

As usual, Mike is the one who argues. “But-”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what we’re-”

“No.”

“Can you at least let me-”

“Sure,”

“Really?”

“No.”

Lucas and Dustin watch the interaction with slight pleasure, amused by your ability to shut Mike up, but when he turns to them for help they reluctantly give in. 

“Y/N,” Dustin sighs, “honestly, how many times are we gonna do this whole ‘we’re not allowed but we’re going to do it anyways’ bit?” 

You glare at your brother. “However many times it takes for you guys to finally listen.”

“Cool. Then we’ll expect you to bust down Mike’s door later tonight.”

“I’m not kidding,” you face all the kids and make sure they’re listening. “Whatever you’re trying to do, don’t. Jonathan and I-”

“You told Jonathan?” Mike exclaims but Lucas shushes him. 

“We’re going to handle it, we already have a plan but whatever you do: stay out of the woods from here on out. We think… We think there’s a monster out there hiding. I just want to make sure you guys are safe.”

“Monster hunting?” Dustin’s eyes light up and you silently curse Jonathan and Nancy for even suggesting you do this in the first place.

“Technically… yes, but you guys absolutely have to stay put.”

They stare at you as if you’re insane.

“You do realize who you’re talking to, right?” Dustin asks. 

You flick his head. “Yes, and I’m putting a lot of trust in you guys right now. I’ll let you guys do whatever you want so long as it doesn’t include the woods. Until you get an all clear from me, it’s off limits.” 

Mike thinks this over. “Can we look for the gate then?”

You sigh. There’s no other way to appease them. “If you don’t go near the woods… then fine.”

The boys begin to cheer, which causes several funeral guests to stare at you with judgment. You realize now that this probably hadn’t been the right setting to have this conversation in. Oh well.

You don’t let the boys cheer for long. “However-”

“There she goes,” Lucas sinks into his seat and squeezes his eyes shut. 

“I get full updates whenever I please. I don’t care if I have to track you guys down from the gates of hell itself, but I will find you and you will tell me everything. Deal?”

Lucas, Dustin, and Mike gather close together and duck their heads down so whisper to one another. You roll your eyes but wait for them to finish. When they’ve reached a decision, Mike interlocks his fingers and places his hands on the table. “You’ve got yourself a deal.” 

– 

As soon as you’ve changed out of your funeral clothes and into a simple pair of jeans and a sweater, Jonathan arrives at your house. You kiss your mom’s cheek before leaving and shout over your shoulder, “Remember the deal, Dustin!” 

You don’t quite catch what your brother responds with but you honestly don’t care enough as you run over to Jonathan’s car and hop into the passenger seat. 

“You certainly didn’t waste any time getting here,” you say in lieu of a hello. 

Jonathan shrugs. “No time to waste when it comes to monster hunting.”

“You do realize that we’re only scouting out the woods tonight, right?” 

You, Jonathan, and Nancy had decided earlier to simply go and explore the woods for any clues of the monster and then figure out how, or even if, you can kill it. 

“I know, but monster hunting sounds cooler.”

“Bless you, bee.” 

The two of you get to the field in no time. Jonathan had been the one to suggest the spot a few yards behind his house for target practice and Nancy had agreed to bring a bat just in case you needed more protection. 

And you?

You’re bringing the cans to serve as targets for shooting. Your family has never owned a gun and last time you checked, Dustin doesn’t play any sports, so all you can offer is your emptied recycling bin contents. 

It doesn’t take long for you and Jonathan to set up the cans on top of the tree trunks before he begins shooting. Jonathan takes a deep breath and holds the gun up so it’s eye level and looks over at you. “Ready?”

You take a deep breath as well and prepare yourself, knowing it’s about to become loud. “Yeah, start shootin cowboy.” 

The first shot hits a tree behind the can, nowhere near its intended target, and you wince. It’s looking like the monster might actually win at the rate Jonathan’s aim is going. 

“It’s okay,” you tell your friend. “The tree looked at me funny, he had it coming.” 

Jonathan snorts. “You’re laughing now, but I can’t exactly hunt a monster if I can’t even shoot it.” 

“Maybe you could talk nicely to it?”

“And say what, exactly? ‘Hey, Mr. Monster, where are you hiding my brother?’”

You step closer to him so that you’re now side by side and you nudge his shoulder. “Hey, you never know. It could work.”

Jonathan readjusts his grip on the gun and aims it once more. He takes another shot, this time it lands a bit closer to the can, but not by much. He lets out an agitated, “Fuck!”

He tries shooting again and again but each shot is as unpredictable as the last. After his sixth round of firing you can see how tense his shoulders are and the way he’s clenching his fists against the weapon. You remember how he acted earlier today, the newfound anger and resentment within Jonathan that had originally impressed you. Now it only frightens you. 

When he goes to re-aim the gun for the seventh time, you grab at his hand and stop him. 

“Bug, what are you-”

“Let’s go for a walk.” 

Jonathan looks at you like you’re crazy but you simply take the gun from his hands, click the safety back on, and then walk over to the tree stumps to rest it against one of them. When you’re done you walk back over to the boy and interlock your fingers with his to drag him along. 

There’s not a whole bunch of room in the clearing for a walk per say, but there’s enough to go a few laps around for Jonathan to take a breather. You’re not sure exactly what’s going on with him but a walk has never hurt anyone. 

Jonathan’s silent the first lap around. You’re content with this and you admire the fall weather and enjoy the slight warmth from the sun as it kisses your face. When you’re on the third lap you decide to ask a question that’s been on your mind since yesterday when Nancy showed up at the funeral home. 

“Do you really believe Will is alive?”

Jonathan thinks the question over for a moment, and as he’s lost in thought you notice that he begins gently swinging your hands back and forth absentmindedly. “I can still feel him.”

“Feel him?”

“Yeah, I know it sounds crazy but…”

“No, I think I get it. I mean, I’d be able to feel if something bad happened to Dustin. I know I’d be able to, even if there’s not necessarily a science behind it. It’s like there’s a lifeline connecting us, like some unspoken sibling thread that neither one of us can sever.”

“A sibling thread?” Jonathan asks, a slight laugh accompanying his question. 

“Oh, you know what I mean, bee.” 

“No, no. I wanna hear all about this thread theory of yours.” 

Jonathan’s bright mood is back, reminiscent of the boy you once believed you knew better than you knew yourself, so you entertain his teasing if only to sustain his light a little longer. “If I explain this theory you have to promise not to laugh at me.”

“I promise,” he says and he gives your hand a light squeeze. 

“Alright, but if you decide I’m insane after this, just know that you legally cannot leave me. You signed a contract.” 

“Oh, did I?”

“You sure did, bee. Anyways, back to me,” a slight breeze surrounds you for a moment and you let the crisp air fill your lungs. “I have this theory that we’re all connected to each other in some way by different threads. Some threads are older than others, stronger, or maybe even more rigid, but they’re there. Whether it’s a thread between you and your family, the love of your life, or a stranger you happen to pass on the street one day, none of it happens by accident.” 

“The threads are the reason it all happens?”

“Not necessarily, but yeah. To put it simply, I guess you could say that.” 

“So, for our thread,” Jonathan stops walking and tugs at you to stop as well. “After everything we’ve been through, all that we’ve done for one another, what thread would you say our’s is?”

His question catches you off guard; you can hear your heart beating within your chest. There’s so many things you wish you could tell him.

Our thread is one of romance, of lovers, of soulmates, even. 

The feelings build within you and the words threaten to spill out. The November sun is beginning to set and everything is golden in its light and Jonathan is a part of it all. His brown eyes are like warm honey on a cold winter morning and his hair is slightly ruffled from the wind that leaves his cheeks flushed and rosy. 

“Our thread,” your voice catches in your throat for a moment. “You know what our thread is, bee.”

He pulls you closer to him and in this moment all you can focus on are the slight freckles that dot across his face and neck. “Do I?”

Jonathan has never, ever looked at you like this before. There’s an intensity within his eyes that frightens you and leaves you feeling bare before him. Does he know? Has he figured it all out?

“I…” You can’t form the words you want to say; the three words that have been weighing upon you feel even heavier than before. They’re thick on your tongue, syrupy and dense and you feel as if you can’t breathe.

“Y/N?” He whispers, but you can only shake your head. 

It’s too much. It’s all too much. 

And then suddenly Jonathan leans in. 

Maybe you’re imagining it. 

Maybe you’re delirious after almost a week of sleepless nights and exhausting encounters. 

Or maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way about you. 

You lean in as well and allow yourself to close your eyes; you believe that just this once you can be selfish and accept more than you may deserve.

“Hey! Guys!”

Nancy’s shout causes you and Jonathan to spring apart. 

You want to scream. 

Of course it’s Nancy fucking Wheeler. 

Jonathan drops your hand and waves the girl over while you stand there, trying to collect yourself. As she walks over, you have just enough pride left over to say, “You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

The question is one Jonathan isn’t expecting. He steps back a bit, now even more aware of the close proximity the two of you had only seconds ago. “Of course I do, bug. You’re my best friend.”

Best friend. 

The words hurt more than they should, really. 

“Right. Best friend, ha.” You step even further away from Jonathan, which he raises his eyebrows at. 

“Did I miss something or…?”

If you had the time, you’d ask him why he wanted to know about the thread between the two of you. Why he looks at you like you’re the most precious thing in the entire room. Why, just minutes ago, he leaned in as if to kiss you. 

But Nancy is now only a couple feet away and it wouldn’t be fair to ask her to give the two of you some privacy. You spot the bat in her hand and it serves as a reminder of what the three of you are here for in the first place. 

Will, Barb, the monster. 

“No, of course not,” you clear your throat and greet Nancy as she arrives. “Hey, Nancy.”

She smiles at you and then says hello to Jonathan. “Hey, where’s the gun?”

You point over to the cans and the tree stumps. “Over there, we just wanted to go for a little walk after shooting a few rounds.”

Nancy nods and walks over to inspect the undamaged cans. “You said you already shot a few rounds?”

Jonathan ducks his head down. “Yeah, well. It’s not as easy as it looks in the movies.” 

“Y/N, did you try shooting?” 

“Pfft, I’m definitely not a weapons kind of girl. I prefer to use my crippling good looks instead.”

While you and Nancy talk, Jonathan walks back over to the gun and reloads it. He motions for the two of you to step back and he shoots a few more times. Not once does he hit the can. You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh. 

“You’re awful at this, bee.”

“Yeah,” Nancy agrees.

Jonathan looks over at her. “Have you ever shot a gun before?”

She scoffs. “Have you met my parents?”

“I don’t know, Mrs. Wheeler seems like the type to have a hidden gun.” You say, and Nancy waves you off. 

“Well, I haven’t shot one since I was ten. My dad took me hunting on my birthday and made me kill a rabbit.” Jonathan’s words make you frown. Every day he gives you another reason to hate Lonnie. 

Nancy sympathizes with Jonathan and the two of them fall into an easy banter that you’ve never seen before with him. He’s comfortable around her in a way that makes your stomach twist. He tells her about his parents and how they may have loved each other at one point but now no longer do. He’s opening up to her after only a few days of really knowing her. 

Lovely. 

Nancy shares some details about her own family and how she believes her parents never loved each other, which you can relate to. You watch as Jonathan hands her the gun as she explains how her mom had been younger than her father. “He had a cushy job, money, came from a good family. So, they bought a nice house at the end of a cul-de-sac and started their nuclear family.”

“Isn’t it funny how the fathers never seem to suffer the same fate as the mothers?” You ask, and Nancy looks over at you in confusion, so you explain further. “My own parents, they were like yours except the moment my mom was no longer young, my dad left. Found a newer and cheaper model back home in Virginia.” 

“I didn’t know that, I’m sorry Y/N.” 

You shrug. “It’s not like I go and advertise it. Besides, he was an asshole anyways and my mom is better off without him. She’s the sweetest woman in the world who was forced to run back to her family in Hawkins. Nuclear families aren’t all they’re cracked out to be.”

Jonathan ruffles your hair to get you to laugh, which he succeeds in doing. “Screw that.”

 Nancy raises the gun to eye level and closes one of her eyes, her beautiful face now scrunched in concentration. “Yeah, screw that.”

And with that, she shoots a perfectly aimed shot and knocks the can off the stump. You and Jonathan look at her, stunned, but she can only laugh. 

“Damn, Jonathan. Remind me to never piss Nancy off.” You say, still staring at the fallen can. 

Only he doesn’t hear what you’ve said because he’s too busy staring at Nancy. You can tell he’s impressed by her hidden shooting talent and the way she holds herself with such confidence. His eyes shine as he stares at her and he almost seems to come to life whenever she looks back at him. 

Jonathan looks at Nancy and you know he sees what everyone in Hawkins sees: a beautiful, fierce, and incredible girl. 

Nancy Wheeler, the perfect enigma.

Suddenly it clicks. 

Jonathan is in love with her, or at least he’s beginning to fall in love with her. 

You want to hate her. Afterall, she already has Harrington head over heels for her, and yet you can’t blame either one of the boys. She’s perfect and brilliant and everything you’re not. You’d fall in love with her too if you weren’t already in love with someone else. 

You watch as Nancy and Jonathan become lost in their own little world, him helping her reload the gun as she flashes him a shy smile, and you no longer exist near their presence. It feels like a fucking stab to your already open wound of a heart. You watch the way he ducks his head down whenever she looks at him and the way she stares at him when he isn’t looking. 

Nancy shoots a few more rounds and each shot feels like a hammer coming down onto your own coffin. Each time Jonathan looks at her you feel another nail enter. 

Clearly there’s no room for you here. 

Which is fucking ironic given that you’re in a giant field outside. 

You reach for Jonathan’s hand and tug him forward. He gives you a look as if asking is everything okay? and you wish more than ever that things were different between the two of you. You give him a soft shake of the head. “I can feel a headache coming on and I just remembered that I have a shift tonight, so I should get going.” 

He frowns. “But what about the monster? We can’t look for him without you.”

“You’ll be fine without me,” to your horror you can feel tears forming, which you quickly wipe away before Jonathan can notice. “I doubt I’d be any help, anyways. I suck with guns. Nancy’s the professional here.” 

“I mean, I guess, but…” He looks over at Nancy, who is busy firing the gun and hitting every target she aims for, before pulling you even closer to him. “Are we okay? I feel like, I don’t know… like I’m losing you.”

Your breath catches in your throat. He could never, ever lose you, but if you don’t leave now then you’re afraid that maybe you’ll lose yourself. 

“Don’t be silly, bee. You’re not losing me, no matter how much you may want me to.” You try to tease him, but your heart isn’t in it. 

“You didn’t answer my question, Y/N. Are we okay?” He’s looking at you with so much adoration and concern in his eyes that it almost makes you sick. 

“Of course we are. I promise. I think it’s all just catching up to me, if I’m being honest. Between finding Will and tracking down my own brother, I think this monster hunting business may break me.” 

Jonathan eyes you for a moment as if to try and catch you in a lie, but while you’re only telling him this as an excuse to get away from him and Nancy, it’s not technically a lie. You are exhausted. Plus, you really do have a shift. 

The boy scans your face once more before deciding that you’re telling the truth. You know he suspects there’s something else behind your words, but thankfully he doesn’t pry. “Let me tell Nance that I’m driving you home,” 

And there it is again. 

Nance.

The nickname is like a punch to your gut and only solidifies that you should go. “It’s okay, bee. It’s still nice out, figured I’d walk home and get some sun before winter officially takes over Hawkins.” 

“You can’t expect me to let you walk alone now that we know there’s a monster out there taking people, bug.” 

You kiss his cheek, letting your lips linger for a little longer than necessary. “I’ll be careful, I promise. Stay with Nancy and call me tonight after you guys are done scouting around. We’ll figure out where to go from there. Okay?”

You don’t give Jonathan time to argue because you pull away and inform Nancy of your departure. She also frowns at the idea but has already learned that you’re not one to be told what to do. She understands this aspect of you, and you understand it within her as well, so she wishes you goodbye and tells you to stay safe before going back to shooting.

As you leave, you feel Jonathan’s eyes follow after you. 

– 

The walk ends up being more than enough to clear your head. You haven’t had any time to be alone in god knows how long, so it’s nice to have some time to just think and enjoy the quiet. There’s a lot you need to think about, but at the very forefront of your concerns are Will and El. You still have no idea how they’re connected or how the monster comes into play.

Then there’s Steve, oddly enough. 

You’re not really sure why he’s in the midst of your thoughts, but there he is. Smiling at you and laughing at your jokes and telling you that you’re pretty as he instills a carefree sense within you that feels foreign to enjoy. 

As his words ring through your head, you find your thoughts drifting towards Jonathan and the way he holds your hand every time you’re worried about something and the way he kisses your hair after a particularly hard day.

You’re not sure why the two boys almost seem to clash within your mind, but you don’t have time to look into it. Your shift starts soon and god knows how long your coworker Alex can survive on his own if you’re late. 

Work is slow as usual tonight, but you find the downtime a pleasant relief. It gives you the opportunity to skim some new books that shipped in and catch up on some Spidey storylines. In between stocking books and arranging comic displays you find yourself wondering just how true to his word Dustin stayed earlier. 

Like hell those kids really stayed out of the woods. 

Your question is answered as soon as you get home and find your brother crying in his room. Panic immediately swells within your chest and you run over to him.

“What’s wrong?” You check Dustin’s body for any sign of injury and he lets you as he cries, too upset to wave you away. When you’re assured that he’s okay, you feel your heartbeat calm down again. 

Christ, everytime you see this kid he takes ten damn years off of your life. 

You pull a chair from his desk and sit in front of him. “Dustin, do we need to have another code blue?”

“Maybe,” Dustin sniffles, wiping away a few tears. 

“Okay, then code blue. What happened? Is everyone okay? Is it El?” At the mention of the girl’s name, Dustin flinches. Your blood runs cold. “Dustin, what happened with El?” 

“You won’t yell at me?”

You smooth down his always wild hair. “Never during code blue. Please talk to me, bud.”

Dustin explains how he and the group had gone looking for the gate like they told you they would. He explained how they’d followed the train tracks throughout Hawkins for what seemed like hours. 

“The train tracks that go through the same woods I told you not to go in?”

“Like hell we were gonna listen to you.” 

“Yeah, I know.”

This gets Dustin to laugh a bit, which you’re relieved to see, before he continues his story. When he reveals El’s weird behavior and the way she seemed to be hiding something from them, you feel dread creep in. “Did she… Did she do something to prevent you guys from finding the gate?”

“She used her powers to mess with the compass. Lucas found the blood on her jacket.”

You sense that there’s more. “And then?”

“Mike and Lucas… they-they started fighting.” Dustin’s voice breaks, “they started really going at it, and I tried to stop them. I swear I tried, Y/N!”

“Shh,” you reach for his hand to try and calm him down. “I know you did, but I also know how Mike can get when he’s protective of someone and I know that Lucas isn’t El’s biggest fan. It was a recipe for disaster.”

Dustin snorts, “No kidding.” Then his face darkens once more, “but they wouldn’t listen, and that’s when El screamed.” 

“She screamed?”

“I think she was overwhelmed, but she used her powers on Lucas and flung him across the yard and he hit his head pretty hard…”

“She what-”

“She didn’t mean to! She looked really upset after, and Lucas was fine after he woke up-”

“He was knocked unconscious?”

“And then he stormed off and El ran off. We searched for her, but…” 

You stare at your brother in shock. That definitely hadn’t been what you were expecting. El never struck you as a violent girl, but she knocked Lucas out with her mind. Sure, she may have been trying to break up the fight, but you’re willing to bet that she lost control for a moment and Lucas ended up getting hurt as a result.

Maybe you don’t want superpowers. 

“Y/N, have I lost all my friends?” Dustin asks. 

You shush him once more. “No, of course not. You three boys have always been so drastically different from one another, and this week has been one from pure hell. It makes sense that Lucas and Mike finally snapped, but I promise you that they’ll bounce back eventually.” 

“And El?”

“I’m not sure what to make of her,” you admit. “She isn’t violent, I know she’s not. But we also clearly don’t know her as well as we think we do. I just, I need you to be careful around her, okay? Fight for her, defend her like you would for the boys, but be cautious as well.”

“Cautious, got it.” He cocks his head at you, “but what about Lucas and Mike? They’re still friends, right?”

“Of course they are. Just… sometimes friendship can be hard, but it’s almost always worth fighting for. It’s rare to find friends as loyal as Mike or as brave as Lucas or even as sincere as Will. Yet look at you guys, all together; you’re all incredibly lucky to have one another.”

“Lucky like you and Jonathan?” Dustin asks, a sly glint in his eyes. 

You smile, even if he’s teasing you. “Yeah, like me and Jonathan.”

Dustin returns your smile and you squeeze his hand. “Anyways, I say give Lucas some time to calm down. I think he was scared, more than anything. Tomorrow you can try to talk to him again.” 

Your brother nods at your words and he seems better than he did when you first started the conversation, so you open your arms wide and engulf him into a hug. 

“Code blue concluded, I guess.” Dustin mumbles against your chest, which causes the two of you to laugh.

– 

After your talk with Dustin, you head back to your room and wait for Jonathan to call. You glance at the clock and figure that maybe him and Nancy were still out scouting for clues, so you busy yourself with some homework.

When it nears ten at night and the phone still hasn’t rung, you sigh and reach over for the phone on your desk. You dial Jonathan’s number and hope he simply forgot to call, but when no one answers after your fifth time calling: you begin to worry. 

Ya know, maybe it wasn’t your best idea letting him and Nancy go off alone with a monster on the loose. 

You find yourself frantically biking to the Wheeler’s house before you can even think about it. The night blurs past you and as you walk up their driveway and try to rest your bike against their mailbox, a familiar BMW parks next to you. 

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this, Henderson.” Steve says as he sends you a wink. 

You almost greet the boy before Tommy’s head pops out from the passenger side window. “Hey good lookin.”

You hear Carol berate him and the two begin to bicker as Steve gets out of the car. 

Great. He brought the idiots.

Steve walks over and takes your bike from your hands. After a couple seconds of repositioning and balancing, he finally manages to get the bike to stay upright. “Tada!”

“I almost had it,” you glare at him. 

“Sure ya did.”

Steve’s presence is frustrating as always, but you spot Jonathan’s car parked down the street and Carol’s shrill voice becomes increasingly irritating. You don’t have time for this right now. “What are you doing here, Harrington?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” When you glare at him, he finally says, “Nancy promised she’d call me but hasn’t, so I wanted to check on her.”

His sincerity is why you say, “I’m here for…” You realize you can’t necessarily tell Steve about Jonathan possibly being here. You have a feeling it wouldn’t end well, but you’re also not keen on lying to the boy. You’re already keeping secrets from practically everyone in your life; you don’t want to add Steve to the list. Not when he doesn’t deserve it. 

“I’m looking for Jonathan,” you confess, worried about Steve’s reaction. 

He frowns. “Why would Byers be here?”

“Him and Nancy have this… thing for english. Due tomorrow. A big thing. Like, huge. So they’re working on it together. In the house. Where Nancy lives. Here.” You stumble over your words, more nervous than usual, but you weren’t expecting Steve to be here or that you’d need a cover story. 

“Uh huh,” something almost aggressive flickers across Steve’s face and you silently curse to yourself. You said the wrong thing. 

“Funny, Nancy told me she was only helping Byers for the funeral.” 

Shit.

Tommy and Carol watch from the car, obviously amused by the whole situation. 

“Right! She was, now she’s working on an assignment with him.” Technically not a lie, you’re just omitting the fact that the assignment in question is monster hunting. 

“You’re really bad at lying, Henderson.” Steve walks past you, now over the conversation, and you struggle to keep up. You try to block his path, assuming that he’ll use the front door, but as you near the front step he side steps you and starts heading towards the bushes. 

“What are you doing?” You whisper loudly, trying not to draw too much attention to yourself. 

Steve ignores your whispered yelling and jumps on top of the radiator. Once he’s up, he begins to pull himself over the overhang and up onto the roof. There’s a window just above the ledge with a light on, which you presume to be Nancy’s room due to the practiced ease in which Steve scaled the house. 

You don’t try to climb up after him in fear that you’ll only end up embarrassing yourself. “Ya know, Mrs. Wheeler loves me, I could’ve just knocked on the door.”

Steve peers down at you, an easygoing smile now back on his face. “Relax, this is quicker. Besides, you gotta admit it was impressive to watch.”

Again he winks at you and you feel your cheeks flush. He’s right, it had been impressive to watch; he had made it look so easy. While you struggle to come up with a witty retort, Steve almost knocks on Nancy’s window before his smile drops.

You notice the way his face hardens. “Steve?”

He doesn’t respond, which only concerns you more. You begin to think about the millions of possibilities surrounding Nancy, Jonathan, and monster hunting; fear creeps in. “Is Nancy there? Is she okay?”

“Of course you’d be worried about Nancy right now,” Steve laughs bitterly. You frown at his words, unsure what they mean, but before you can ask anything else Steve angrily climbs back down.

“Steve, what-” He pushes past you in a frenzied hurry to get to his car, but you grab his jacket and force him to stop. “Answer me! Is Nancy okay? Was Jonathan with her?”

Steve whips around and sneers at you. “Why do you even care about them? About him?”

“Because we’re friends,” you say, and for the first time you really mean it. Nancy has become someone you’d call a friend. 

Another cruel laugh escapes Steve’s lips. “Friends, huh? Yeah, those two looked real fucking cozy in her bed.”

A wave of nausea hits you.

“W-what?” You drop your hand and release his jacket. 

“It’s incredible, really. Byers has some fucking nerve.” Steve runs a hand through his hair in agitation and begins to pace. You’re too numb to stop him. “I mean, look at you! He has everything he could possibly want, but he decides to go after my girlfriend.”

“It’s not like that-” 

“Did he tell you they’d be in her room, alone in her bed, underneath her blanket?”

More nausea hits you. “No,”

They were supposed to look for any signs of the monster in the woods. That’s all he told me, you think. 

“So he’s a liar, too.” Steve scoffs, “you deserve better, Y/N.”

And with that, he heads back to his car and drives away, leaving you standing alone once more in the Wheeler’s driveway. You get a sense of deja-vu, watching Steve’s BMW descend down the street, but only this time there’s no warmth fluttering within your stomach as he leaves. 

All you feel is nausea. 

You don’t remember the bike ride home; you’re not sure how you even made it back safely without crashing into anything. All you remember is that you cried the entire way. 

You’ve lost Jonathan, there’s no denying that now. He’s Nancy’s, wholly and truly, he’s hers. 

He was never yours in the first place, you remind yourself. 

But if he was never yours in the first place, then why does it feel like you were almost something?

No. 

You don’t want to think about it that way. 

Yours or not, you can’t afford to lose Jonathan. 

Something or everything, you’ll take whatever you can when it comes to him. 

Everything, anything, nothing. Whatever he gives you, you know you’ll cling onto it with all that’s within you.

But your friendship with Jonathan is too precious to lose, too meaningful to let stupid feelings ruin it. You refuse to let anything come between your friendship with him, and you swear to yourself to shove everything down. Every hurt feeling, all the pain stabbing within your chest, you force it all down to focus on finding Will. 

He’s all that matters right now, even if it feels like the thread connecting you to Jonathan has begun to wither.

Will has to come first. 

You have to find him, something good and lovely has to come from this. You can’t let this all be for nothing.

-

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[daechwitatamic]

Vice;Grip || chapter 4 || chs

(banner by @itaeewon)

Vice;Grip (masterpost) NSFW - minors DNI Genre: angst smut fluff, fuckbuddies!au Summary: Make it not hurt, you could have asked him. Or, at least, make it hurt in a way I choose.  A/N: infinite thank you's to @sailoryooons and @eoieopda for beta-ing!!

//

Warnings: Frequent depictions of depression, depressive episodes, panic attacks, and substance abuse (alcohol, weed, and pills referenced). PLEASE know that these characters’ relationships with drugs and alcohol are not healthy and should not be emulated. If these topics are triggering to you, please consider sitting this one out.

Section Specific Warnings: language, recreational drinking, depiction of a panic attack, there is a quick moment where you can infer that reader thinks vernon might be actively su*cidal but that is not the case and this is not outright stated, nip stim, dirty talk, piv sex, reader has a high fever but no specific illness is mentioned, a (verbal) fight with some yelling

wc: 6700

Playlist: you can call me in the middle of the night / you can leave before i wake up in the morning / and it could feel so wrong / but i'll still hold on

5 months ago

Five texts went unanswered.

I’m sorry.

I was so fucked up, I wasn’t saying what I meant.

Call me so I can explain.

I’m really sorry.

Please, Vernon.

Each time, they delivered, but no response came. You thought you might feel better if he told you to go away. The silence felt too open, like nothing was settled. Like maybe you just hadn’t said the right thing yet. Like maybe you could - or should - keep trying.

Four weeks passed; you tried not to let it drown you, tried to tread above the rising water of the situation. You swam through guilt, your own anger, guilt again. The knowledge of what had upset him nibbled at your toes like fish you couldn’t see in the murky depths. You tried to pretend it wasn’t there, that it was only seaweed underfoot.

You tried to reason with yourself; you hadn’t done anything that bad. He’d been upset because you’d implied he’d get bored of you someday - even though of course he would - and he thought… you didn’t know, he thought that was an attack on his character?

(You knew that wasn’t why he was mad.)

Or, because you’d implied that he would leave, when you were the one who’d gone silent before? That was valid, you thought. You had been the one to make him chase, when your grey days swallowed you up.

(You knew that wasn’t the whole truth, either.)

You kicked at the fish, kept swimming on.

Three times, you found yourself on the brink of coming clean to Chan. The first time, it had almost escaped from your mouth, prompted by nothing but your own need to hear someone absolve you; you wanted to tell Chan I think I hurt him, so he could say, it doesn’t sound like it’s your fault.

Chan didn’t lie to you, though, even when you wanted him to. He wouldn’t tell you it wasn’t your fault, because it was. So, you tucked the words back in, zipped them up safely.

The next time, he’d asked - “You still… with that guy?” He’d made a vague hand motion that must have meant still seeing, or still sleeping with.

I messed it up again.

I think I liked him too much.

“It’s been like a month,” you said lightly, like it was no big deal. “We’ve been busy.”

His sideways look was scalding. Chan didn’t lie to you; Chan was used to you lying to him, knew all the signs.

He let it go anyway.

Maybe he knew those signs, too. Maybe he knew without you telling him that you’d let the bunny rabbit instincts win - that you’d hid, scared, the second your fragile, broken brain told you to.

The third time, you almost told him all of it, even that it was Vernon. Chan was having dinner at your apartment, helping you clean up after, when his phone buzzed on the table.

“Hey, hyung,” he’d answered, tilting his head to grip the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he ran water in the sink and started rinsing the plates. “Yeah, I’m in. I don’t know, probably in like twenty minutes? Fifteen if I make all the green lights.”

You listened absently as you picked up the rest of the table - napkins in the trash, utensils tight in one hand, now-empty wine glasses in the other.

“Oh,” Chan said, surprised. “Vernon, too? Nice. Should I stop for beer since there’ll be more of us?”

You dropped a wine glass. Chan helped you sweep, and then you ran the vacuum cleaner. Still, you kept finding errant pieces of glass for days. You carried them carefully to the garbage.

It felt fitting, that hearing his name had caused this.

Twice, you called and left voicemails.

Two days after the argument, you’d called on your lunch break. It had rang six times and then his voicemail picked up.

“Vernon… listen, I know I pissed you off. I’d really like the chance to explain myself when I’m not… you know. I didn’t say it how I meant it. Text me. Or call me, whichever.”

After the four weeks crept by and the rest of your texts went unanswered as well, you tried again.

It took almost a whole bottle of wine by yourself to work up the courage, and you hoped he wouldn’t hear the slur in your voice when you told him, “I don’t know why I’m even calling. It’s been a month. I hate that this is just… unresolved. I hate making people mad. I want to know that you know I’m sorry. I want to know that… well. I just… wish we were talking again. I don’t… I don’t know why I’m calling.”

You sat at the stool by your easel for the first time in years, tested your balance, tucked one foot underneath the way you used to. Your hands shook a little as you mixed a purple so dark it was probably actually just black. You covered the canvas, the color of nine at night in the summertime, and stared at it, watching it dry.

When you could, you switched brushes, used a rounder texture to form something that might pass as clouds along the mottled sky. Then, you painted a full moon; it cracked like an egg.

You liked this, you followed the idea, paintbrush hurrying to chase the inspiration, whites and yellows coloring in whatever it was that might leak from the moon like marrow.

The bottom half of the canvas became a moving, living ocean; the blues were eight at night in the summertime but they looked good together with the hour after. You finished with the moon’s reflective path, a jagged yellow streak that dipped and bobbed through the waves.

You walked to the bathroom and washed your brushes, leaving them somewhere to dry where the cat couldn’t mess with them. Then you went back to the canvas, staring at it from a few feet away, your hands on your hips.

You’d done it - you’d painted something you didn’t want to burn.

One painting, one tiny step back towards the life you’d lost - that you’d let yourself lose, that you’d definitively pushed away.

4 months ago

It rained for three days. You lit lamps during the day, suddenly craved soups even though it was the height of spring and the weather had been consistently warm for weeks. The rain just called for it.

It called for you to sleep, too, luring you into bed with a steady patter against the windows. You slept early, and deeply, the cat curled up near your head. The rain beat against the windows like a metronome, helped your heart rate steady, helped your thoughts slow and settle.

You slept deeply, the sounds of the rain pulling you under, and when you were startled awake a few hours in, it was with no concept of where or who you were.

Your phone was still vibrating, jarring; you scrambled to grab it from the nightstand and the cat scrambled out of the room.

Your mom, you thought wildly. Or Chan.

What else could it be, but an emergency? No one else called at three in the morning. Someone used to, but only on the weekend, and that person hadn’t answered you in over a month.

“H’lo?” you mumbled, eyes too blurry to see the screen. You closed them, pressed the phone tighter to your ear to hear better.

No one spoke, but you could hear breathing - ragged and unsteady.

“Hello?” you repeated, more clearly, starting to wake up a bit, starting to worry. You rubbed at your eyes, then pulled the phone away so you could see the name on the screen.

Of course it was him.

“Vernon?” you asked, like you didn’t believe the word on the screen, but you were met with only silence - even his breathing went quiet for a second, like hearing his name had caused him to hold it. Like he suddenly wasn’t sure he wanted you to know he was there.

You said his name again, like a question, and it sounded like maybe he tried to speak but the noise - choked and quick - faded quickly. Your heart started to race, and certainty settled into your bones: something was wrong.

“Hey,” you said, a little sharply, like maybe he needed to snap out of it. “Are you okay?”

Finally, a word. “Dunno,” he managed, his voice thick.

“I’m coming there,” you said, already throwing the blankets off your legs and staggering to your closet to pull at some sweatpants. “Don’t leave, okay?”

“No,” he protested, but the way he gasped the breath after it cemented what you already knew - he needed you.

Or, he needed someone, and you were someone, and you would have to do.

“I’m on my way. Stay there, okay? Wait for me.” You were hopping on one foot as you said this, pulling clothes and shoes on, frantically reaching around in the dark for things like deodorant and car keys.

When he didn’t answer, you stopped moving, stopped trying to find your things. When you spoke again, your voice came out softer, a gentle plea instead of sharp instruction. “Hansol,” you said, quiet. “Wait for me. Okay?”

He ended the call without promising.

You stayed tucked into the building’s doorframe until you saw the Uber pull up; the rain was coming down in sheets, and you had to run to the car, splashing through still water until you could slide into the backseat. Your feet were soaked.

You spent the first five minutes of the ride wiping rain out of your eyes and trying to wring out the ends of your sleeves; the fabric clung to your hands, wet and cold. Outside the car, the rain water ran down the windows and the windshield wipers ran on the fastest setting.

im on my way, okay?

[ ]

vernon you’re scaring me

When the car pulled to a stop, you jumped out as soon as it was safe, bolting through the rain a second time and letting yourself into the building with the code you knew by heart. You took the stairs two at a time, heart flying. You were at once both scared to death of what you’d find when you got there, and refusing to put the specific fear to words, refusing to consider that it could be an option.

“Where are you?” you called, as soon as you got his door open. The apartment was mostly unlit, but for the light above the sink, and a dim light from the direction of his bedroom. “Vernon?”

You were met with silence and you almost choked on your heart as it climbed up your throat. You slipped off your shoes and made your way inside, heading for his bedroom.

You almost threw up with relief when you found him sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. The light you saw came from his bathroom - the door was closed almost completely, but light spilled out through the crack.

“What’s wrong, what’s happening?” you asked, inching closer. His hands were clenched into fists and bent back at an angle, veins raised along his tensed forearms. His breath went in raspy and came out in huffs, too quick to be productive.

You were pretty sure you knew what this was. You knelt in front of him, ran your hands over his tensed-up arms once, and then nudged under his chin gently with your forefinger, urging him to lift up and look at you.

He let you, his eyes faraway.

“Panic attack?” you guessed quietly. He nodded once, trying to tuck his chin back down, to look away and hide from the shame of this moment being witnessed - being recognized.

“If I put on my breathing app, will you do it?” you asked.

The sound he made was almost like a laugh. “I’ll try,” he muttered.

You opened your phone and set the app up, placing it on the bed beside him, the light from the screen tinting him pink. You heard the familiar, soothing voice begin to recite the directions, and you rocked back on your heels.

“I’m going to your kitchen real quick,” you told him, putting your hands on his knees to push yourself to standing. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll do the breathing with you in a sec.”

You shivered once as you stood with his fridge open; you’d been in his kitchen plenty of times, but never really perused on your own. Your gaze moved over beer and energy drinks, finally landing on juice. You slapped the bottle on the counter and rummaged in the closest cabinets until you found a glass.

Returning to his bedroom, you could hear your breathing app intoning hold… two… three… four… exhale slowly… two… three… four. It was hard to tell if Vernon was following - his head was still tucked, but his hands clenched and unclenched, like he was trying to return circulation after they’d fallen asleep.

You waited patiently until the breathing cycle ended, then nudged the glass into his hand. When he took it, you sat gently next to him, watching silently until he drank some.

“Where are you at?” you asked, and then started to explain what you meant.

Vernon interrupted; he’d understood the first time.

He usually did.

“Better,” he said, then added, “Not, like, better. But, better. Still buzzing.”

You knew the feeling - you tended to get buzzing in your legs first, then hands, and then it would crawl up your arms and into your chest if you didn’t shake it. When the attack receded, you usually felt it leave your chest first and then work its way slowly back down your arms.

“What usually helps?” you asked. “Is the breathing cycle better, or grounding?”

“Grounding, probably,” he said.

“Start by drinking some juice,” you instructed. “Then, can you tell me five things you see?”

“It’s dark,” he grumbled, but he brought the glass to his lips as requested. You rolled your eyes at his sass and walked over to turn on the lamp he kept on his desk. It cast the room in yellow, all the raindrops on the window suddenly catching the light.

“Now do it,” you said, coming back to sit by him again.

You heard him take a breath. He was better already - hands unclenched now, breathing still a bit quick but not raspy or gasped. “It feels silly to do out loud.”

“I’ll do it, too,” you said. “I see your laptop, your lamp, your cell phone, your dresser, and your very old and embarrassing Blink-182 poster. Literally, Vernon, is it 2003?”

He laughed, closing his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re roasting me right now,” he said, voice still a little thin and breathy.

“Five things you see,” you reminded him firmly.

He huffed in mild irritation. “Hamper,” he recited, finally. “Shoes. Empty Red Bull can.”

You laughed.

“Cologne bottle,” he finished, then looked up at you. “Girl who came out at three in the morning, in the rain, after a month of not speaking, because she was worried about me.”

You spluttered. “I was not.”

He knocked his shoulder into yours playfully. “I have it in writing.”

You let out an indignant breath. “I should have let you suffer alone,” you muttered.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” he admitted, then dutifully drank some more juice.

“Okay,” you said, remembering what you were doing. “Four things you can hear.”

He sighed. “Bossy girl,” he listed, and you whacked at his knee. “Rain. Aircon. Traffic outside.”

You finished the exercise together.

“Now how is it?” you asked, reaching to take his empty glass.

He flexed his hands in front of him. “Buzzing’s down to my hands,” he reported. “Think I’m past the worst.”

“How do you feel, otherwise?”

He grimaced. “Exhausted, honestly.”

You looked at the clock - it was after 4:30 in the morning, almost time for sunrise to begin.

“You should try and sleep more,” you said, starting to rise.

“Stay?” he asked, and you thought you heard a note of, well, panic in it. Like he was scared to be alone again.

Something inside you screamed and beat its fists against your insides, furious and terrified as it felt you melt into goo at his request. Something inside you knew that you were walking into a building on fire. But there was no way you’d stay outside, not now, not if he was in there.

“Of course,” you said, as if it was obvious, as if you stayed over all the time - as if this weren’t, in fact, a first.

He seemed to take in your appearance for the first time, the still-drying patches on your clothes, the goosebumps on your damp skin. “You’re cold,” he said, frowning, like you should have led with that as soon as you came in, handled your needs first.

“I’m okay,” you denied, but he rolled his eyes and leaned over the other side of his bed, coming up with a rumpled black hoodie.

“I promise it’s clean,” he said, a little sheepishly, and you pulled off your damp tshirt and tugged the hoodie over your head, instantly warmer and surrounded by his smell. He left for the bathroom, and when you heard the sink run and the telltale buzzing from his electric toothbrush, you got up and turned his lamp back off. When he emerged, you were under the blankets, huddled warm and cozy inside his hoodie.

When he climbed into bed, you draped yourself over him, a leg over his legs, an arm over his torso, your face pressing against his t-shirt. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you in, and you lay in silence for a while, listening to the rain, awash in relief that he was okay - that you two were okay, that he’d let you back in even after you’d fucked it up.

Just as you were starting to drift a little, you felt his chest move under you, and he said, quietly, “I’m sorry for making you come out in the storm. In the middle of the night, too.”

“Don’t,” you said, shaking your head but not lifting it up to look at him. Your words carried out into the dark of the room. “You can call me. You can call me when you need me. I don’t care if it’s late. I don’t care if it’s… a hurricane, or whatever.”

It was too honest. It was too close to the truth. You shivered in the dark again, and you felt him hold you tighter for a second, as if to chase the chill away.

He let the moment go, didn’t chase it down and shine a light on it. But you know he heard you - you think, probably, he heard the whole thing, all the parts you didn’t say.

You waited in silence again, let the moment go, let the rain wash this away, too. Then, you ventured, “I’m sorry for what I said to you, last month. Really.”

You felt him nod above you. “I know. It’s… it’s okay.”

Is it? you wondered. But you didn’t push it - because you were scared that his forgiveness was fragile and might shatter if pressed, because you’d already admitted something you weren’t sure you’d meant to tonight, because saying anything seemed wrong while you were between his arms with the rain serenading you both from outside.

You drifted off; you woke up with his hands on your skin beneath his hoodie. You sighed, eyes still closed, as he refamiliarized himself with your body. You breathed in deeply when his fingers brushed up your stomach and found your breasts, teased over your nipples so lightly that it almost tickled, made you shudder in place.

You felt his lips at the nape of your neck, and that made you shiver, too. He pressed kisses along the tops of your shoulder as he teased one peak and then the other, finally giving in to your tiny, needy noises and rolling both buds between firm fingers. You moaned, long, feeling it pulled from deep within you until he let go, soothing over the spots with warm palms.

“Missed that sound,” he murmured against your back, and you pressed back against him desperately, suddenly sure that if he wasn’t inside you this instant you would completely lose it. You reached backwards, grabbing at his hips, trying to pull him closer.

“Need you,” you whined, hating it but knowing it was true anyway, the need larger than the embarrassment. You could feel him pressing against your ass, too many layers between you, and you shifted against him, hoping to spur him into action.

He hummed, pleased, and slid a clever hand back down over your stomach and past the waistbands of your sweats and panties, groaning low in his throat when he found arousal pooling between your legs. He barely bothered to work you open, likely feeling the same desperation you were after the time apart. You felt him shimmy out of his shorts, then his hands back on your skin as he peeled away your bottoms as well.

You kicked them off of your ankles and inhaled as you felt him slide along your slit, teasing at your entrance. He kept one hand up your hoodie, pressed against your chest to hold you tight against him, as he pushed into your heat one inch at a time. You heard yourself make a sound you couldn’t name, somewhere close to a whine, as you felt each bit of him rub against your walls as they struggled to adjust.

“Fuck,” he breathed, mouth close to your neck. “Tighter than I remember.”

He bottomed out and stilled, that one hand still holding you tight against his body. You closed your eyes and felt the moment: his heart beating against your back, your own pulse thundering through your limbs, your pussy pulsing around him as it adjusted and fluttered, his breath warm and steady on your skin, his hands soothing and grounding as they held you tight, the rain still falling steadily outside. You stayed still, eyes closed, as he caressed your hips, your lower belly, your thighs, as he pressed chaste and feather-light kisses along your shoulder.

Finally, he shifted, fucking into you in small movements, barely withdrawing at all before tilting his hips to push back in. You rocked back against him, silently begging for more.

He pulled out almost completely, and then slid back in; the sound you let out bordered on a sob, your nerves alight and sizzling as he began repeating the motion, each stroke slow and long, unhurried, burying himself as completely as he could. You floated like this, completely enveloped by him, still wearing his hoodie, as he took his time with you, until you couldn’t bear it anymore.

“More, Vernon,” you begged, “please.”

“As you wish,” he teased, and used his knee to move yours, bending your leg and hooking it up around his to open you up more, to give himself more room as he set a quicker, steady pace. Relieved, you matched his strokes, half-tempted to roll over so you could kiss him, but not wanting to lose even a second of the delicious feeling of him stretching you, of the friction that made your eyes want to roll back and your toes curl up.

It took you completely by surprise when he began pistoning into you, holding you in place by your waist, and a gasp flew from your mouth, morphing into a series of moans and cries as his hips battered at yours. Even more so when he grabbed at your thigh and tugged, rolling you onto your back and readjusting himself over you, slipping right back in as you wrapped your legs around him and tried to pull him closer.

His pace slowed only marginally as he grabbed at your hands and raised them above your head. Bent close over you, you finally got what you’d wanted the whole time - his lips finally found yours and you kissed hungrily as he fucked you deep. Above your head, you felt your fingers curl against his, lacing together. You squeezed his fingers tight when you came, his name slipping from your lips as your legs shook and your world went white. Vernon came with a cry, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched as he emptied himself in your still-pulsing heat, and then collapsed next to you, both of you panting.

“Shower?” he asked, when he’d caught his breath.

You tilted your phone so you could see the time. “I should probably just go home,” you admitted. “I have work.” This realization hit you - you’d gotten maybe four and a half hours of sleep, and not even all at once. Thank god it was Friday and you only had one day to struggle through.

He nodded, understanding. After you dressed, he wandered after you like a shadow. “You around tomorrow night?” he asked, and you could hear the effort to sound off-handed.

“Yeah,” you said, eyes flicking to his for a second. “Yeah, I’ll be around.”

When your ride pulled up and you stepped outside, you shielded your eyes from how bright everything was in the early morning light after days of gloom and clouds. Around you, everything glistened and sparkled, still wet from the days of incessant rain, as if everything you could see had been washed clean.

3 months ago

hi :]

what’s wrong with your face?

are you insulting my smiley?

again i ask you: is it 2003?

im gonna ignore that. come over?

can’t, sorry. i’m sick

whats wrong with u?

should i start listing?

ha ha. girl stuff?

vernon!!!!

lmao i mean if its not that i figured youd just tell me whats wrong

i have a fever, you ass

It was true - you’d carried your comforter from your bed to your couch that morning and had barely moved since. The cat was on top of your legs and you didn’t have the strength or energy to move him. Through the day, your fever had risen; you hadn’t helped things by refusing to get up, which meant you were probably dehydrated. As Vernon texted you, you took mental inventory of how badly everything on your body hurt - your limbs, your hips, everything ached. The pain in your head was sharp and bloody, and you felt like you were sweltering even though your feet were ice cold.

You felt too miserable to even watch a show; instead, you looked around your living room absently. You were pretty sure you were seeing colors off to the side, hazy swatches of red and blue.

Well, you thought dryly, that’s not good.

Then, your hallucinations took form, because the couch was dipping under you and someone was placing a cool hand against your head. You closed your eyes, leaning into the touch just because the coolness felt nice.

“You need to drink something,” someone told you.

“I had the lemonade,” you said.

There was a pause. “I don’t… think there’s lemonade here. Hey - wake up and look at me.”

You blinked, and looked towards the voice. The world’s most beautiful man looked down at you, frowning.

“Wow,” you heard yourself. “You’re so handsome. What are you here for?”

He laughed. “I’m here to take care of you,” he said. “I’m bringing you water, okay?”

You frowned. “I don’t want water. My throat hurts. I want juice.”

There was another pause, and then the voice came again, from further away. “I’ll bring you juice, but you need to drink water now.”

Then he was back, snapping in front of your face. “Hey, look at me again. This is serious. Have you taken any medicine? I don’t want to give you double of something and overdose you.”

“I don’t think I’ve left the couch today,” you told him honestly.

“Okay,” he said, and you didn’t remember him moving or leaving but he was somehow pressing pills into your hand, waiting for you to place them on your tongue before handing you a plastic cup full of water.

“Drink all of it,” he instructed.

“You’re too pretty to be so bossy,” you grumbled around the mouthful of pills.

He waited until you drained the cup. “I’m going to go to the store,” he told you. “Can you think of anything else you need besides juice?”

You didn’t remember if you answered him, or even him leaving. You think you slept. When you woke, someone was rummaging around your kitchen.

“Chan?” you called, blearily.

Instead, Vernon poked his head around the corner of your kitchen, a grocery store bag hanging off his arm.

“Hey,” he said. “How do you feel?”

You blinked at him. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but what the fuck are you doing here?”

His smile widened. “Your fever must be down a little. You need anything? You still want juice?”

You just stared at him, bewildered. He finished putting away a few more things and then came back out to you, pressing a hand to your forehead.

“Definitely lower,” he said. “Do you have an actual thermometer? I couldn’t find it.”

“Yeah,” you said, still confused. “In my bathroom. Vernon, seriously, what’s going on?”

“Come on,” he said. “You should shower and put on clean pajamas and then maybe try to eat some of the soup I got.”

You shook your head. “I don’t think I can shower,” you admitted. “I don’t think I can stand up that long.”

He held out his hand. “I’ve got you. Just a quick rinse.”

He helped you off the couch and into the bathroom, where you sat on the closed toilet while he started the water and got it running warm, but not hot. You kept silent as he helped you undress, as he held your hand while you gingerly stepped over the bathtub’s lip, your legs aching.

“You okay?” he checked, once you were behind the shower curtain.

“Mhm.”

“Okay. I’m going in your room to get you clean clothes to put on.”

“Hurry.”

“I’m right outside. If you feel weird, just call me.”

You did okay, though, washing up and turning the water off on your own, reaching for the towel you kept on a hook. He came in when he heard the water change, and helped you dry off, his hands firm and his gaze gentle. Then he led you back to your bed, guiding you under the blankets.

“Do you think you could eat some soup?” he asked. “I bet you didn’t eat all day.”

You scrunched your nose. “You don’t have to cook for me.”

He shrugged. “It’s pre-made. I’ll heat some up.”

You tried to eat as much of the soup as you could, and then floated absently as Vernon cleaned up.

“Hey,” you said, struggling to sit up. “I don’t think I fed the cat tonight.”

“Tell me what to do,” he said, pushing on your shoulder to keep you from climbing out of bed.

“You can’t just- he’s particular - there’s a process -”

“Tell me the process, then,” Vernon said firmly.

Later, after he’d turned out all the lights, he came to the side of the bed and checked your temperature again - this time with your actual thermometer.

“I’m waking you up in three hours to take another fever-reducer,” he warned you, walking to set the thermometer down on your dresser.

“Okay,” you said, too tired to argue. You were already half-asleep as it was - you had no idea what time it was.

You barely registered it when he climbed into the bed next to you, just rolled over and buried your face in his chest, one arm reaching around his middle, already back under.

His alarm startled you both. You felt him pull away - you were sleeping in the same position, neither of you had moved - and then the alarm fell quiet.

“Medicine,” he said, starting to extract himself. You whined; you were comfy, and warm, and didn’t want him to leave.

“Don’t,” you whined. “Don’t leave.”

He laughed a little, a quiet huff of amusement. “I’m just going to the kitchen. Then I’ll be back.”

He watched you take another round of pills and drink half the water, leaving the glass on your nightstand. Then, as promised, he got right back in bed.

When you woke again, your bed was empty. And, impossibly, you felt both relief and disappointment. Then, from the living room, you heard a clatter and then a curse.

“Vernon?” you called.

Your bedroom door cracked open. Like a flash of lightning, the cat streaked into the room and under the bed.

“Sorry,” Vernon said from the doorway. “He was pissed that I wouldn’t let him in there with you. I wanted you to sleep. He was mutinying.”

You smiled despite yourself. “You didn’t go home?”

“Wanted to see how you were before I left,” he said. “You sound better. You look better, too - I mean, you looked really off yesterday. It was kind of scary.”

“I think I’m okay,” you said. “Okay enough that I can keep my fever down by myself. I shouldn’t have let it get that high yesterday, I should have stayed on top of it.”

He looked at you for a long time. Then, he clapped his hand against your doorframe, as if he’d made a decision. “Okay. I’ll go home, I guess. Just… let me know if it gets bad, okay? And eat something. I bought stuff for you yesterday - it’s all in the kitchen.”

“Thanks for doing that,” you said, a little sheepishly.

“It was nothing,” he promised.

After he left, you stayed in the bed, rolling onto your side so you could smell the blankets where he’d slept. It helped you feel safer, like you weren’t actually alone.

It occurred to you that you’d spent the night together twice in a row, now. The rules were breaking - the rules were changing.

Your head pounded, and so did your heart. Nothing had ever been this frightening in your life, you thought.

2 months ago

Vernon saw you as sunshine - not like it was your demeanor, because that wasn’t true. More like - something he needed without realizing he needed it, something he realized he needed only in its absence. Something that made things better and brighter, something that could sometimes be too bright. Something that made the grey days feel greyer in a can you understand happiness if you never feel sadness kind of way.

He tipped your head back to kiss you, caught your bottom lip between his teeth, rolled his hips into yours, watched your hands clench into fists in his sheets.

He forgot himself a little; or maybe he just gave in to something he’d been holding back for months - maybe even a year. Something cracked, marrow slipped out of him, sluiced into the rocky ocean below.

After, he held you close, whispered, “Don’t go home. Stay. Jagi, stay here.”

And, he had to give you credit - you were at least honest. You at least told him your truth, in your own way.

“I can’t,” you said, and he knew you, knew how you meant it. He didn’t argue or call you back when you dressed, when you left again, just how you’d done things almost every time over the last two years.

He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t want you, maybe even love you, and only have parts of you. It was too hard, it wasn’t fair. Two years, and he had nothing to show for it. Maybe he’d find someone, if he wasn’t spinning his wheels with you.

He saw you like sunshine. Something that was missed when it was gone. Something that couldn’t be forced to stay, something that didn’t come when it was called.

1 month ago

You could tell that something was different. You’d been around Vernon plenty when he was low - this was different.

“You’re being weird tonight,” you observed.

His eyes cut sideways at you. He’d never looked at you like that - this was another clue. Then his face went flat again.

“I’m not,” he said, and you frowned.

“You are,” you insisted. “What’s going on? What’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem,” he said, tone hollow.

“I’m not playing this game with you, Vernon!” you said, temper flaring. “If there’s a problem, you’re going to have to use your words and tell me.”

“I said there’s no problem,” he repeated, cool and even. Something inside you snapped tight, painful. You could feel it all coming to a boil right before your eyes - the way the boundaries had been shifting, the way he’d called you jagi, the way he’d looked when you’d walked away. It terrified you, made you want to show your claws, and it was infuriating that he was icing you out when you were ready to draw blood.

“Vernon!” you cried. “I cannot deal with this little apathy game anymore! I need you to engage here. I need you to care about something, and not just give me this expressionless, emotionless -”

“Care about something?” he thundered, wheeling on you. It startled you into silence. “That’s bullshit. Because I have been caring about you way more than I should, for ages now, and look what fucking good it’s done for me.”

Stunned, you blinked at him. Your heart pounded painfully, and your thoughts felt staticky and unclear. You needed to get away from him; you needed to process this in silence.

Finally, you spoke, your voice coming out tiny. “I’m going home.”

Vernon rolled his eyes, slapped his hand down to grab at his phone. “I’ll take you.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want you to.”

He ignored this, picking up his keys. “I said I’ll take you. It’s fine.”

You shouldn’t have followed him to the car. You shouldn’t have assumed he’d be mad for a few weeks and then get over it again, just like you two had done more than once now.

He drove you in silence, his face coming in fragmented pieces as he passed under streetlights. You were watching him, silently, when he finally spoke again.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” he said, still perfectly even.

Tears sprang to your eyes before you’d even processed the sentence, something inside you reacting before your brain really knew what you were reacting to.

“What?” you asked. “Why?”

You knew why.

He just kept driving.

“Pull over,” you demanded, suddenly furious, suddenly terrified, suddenly realizing you were losing him, right now, in real time.

He ignored you, didn’t even glance over at you.

“Vernon, I want to talk about this, pull over!” you cried, leaning forward in your seat, the seat belt tightening on your shoulder. “Pull over!”

Eventually, he listened, flicking on his turn signal and slowing as the car bumped off the pavement and onto the dirt shoulder.

“What?” he asked flatly, finally turning to face you.

“I asked why,” you said, heat laced through your voice.

He shook his head. “I’ve wasted two years with you -”

“Wasted?” you echoed, feeling the word like a punch to the gut. You felt like you couldn’t inhale.

“Well?” he asked, as if to say, well, wasn’t it?

“Fuck you, Vernon,” you spat.

“Fuck me is right!” he yelled, loud in the enclosed space of the sedan. “What are we doing? Just fucking, for eternity?”

You blinked at him. “You never asked me for anything else!”

“I tried,” he growled.

“Like hell you tried!”

“I did,” he asserted. “You ran, scared, every time.”

“Of course I was scared,” you snapped, because you couldn’t deny that one for a second. Your voice comes out choked. “I was right to be scared, and you know it!”

“Why?” he asked, the question falling between you, a landmine.

“Because,” you said seriously, the first tear finally falling. “This only ends one way.”

His jaw clenched, and he looked away from you, out the windshield again. Then, he clicked on his turn signal again, shifted the car back into drive, and pulled back onto the highway.

“Yeah,” he said flatly, as the car met even pavement again. “You’re making sure of that, aren’t you?”

<- Prev | Next ->

thank you so much for reading! one chapter left to go!

[carto0ncritter]

PLEASE DO NOT HARASS THIS PERSON.

I'm genuinely tired of HB/HH/Vivziepop stans putting words into my mouth.

"You literally hate everything about the show"

Fyi, I didn't hate the premise. I also don't hate: 1) The animation; 2) The voice acting; 3) The potential the show had, and hopefully still has, since it will apparently have at least four seasons.

But ever since HB went from being about the misadventures of assassins in Hell, into a romance drama between two characters who are clearly toxic for each other, that's when I started hating the plot. The third point you made is true, I do hate the plot, and I will continue to do so, unless all this focus on an abusive gay ship (Stolitz) shifts back to what got me and a lot of other people into the show in the first place. And no, I'm not going to stop being vocal about it just because someone else told me to. You're on the internet buddy, learn to accept the fact that not everyone will have the same opinions as you.

And that's really NOT something to get worked up about.

"Just stop watching it if you are this upset about all of this"

Maybe you should stop going into the critical tag if you know that what you're gonna find there will upset you. Just a thought.

And if you've come across my post by searching "blitzo" "moxxie" "millie" or "loona," all you had to do was read the very first sentence I wrote (having to do about my issues with the latest episode) and click off my post because clearly criticism of your beloved show triggers you. And no, I won't stop tagging the characters like this even if I have something negative to say about them. This perfectly explains as to why:

"You hate the main character"

Which one? If you mean Blitzø, then no. I don't hate him. I literally said it in the tags.

But if you mean Stolas, then yeah, I hate him. So what?

"You hate most of the characters in general"

If by most characters you mean Stolas, then yes, I do.

But uh... I don't hate any other character aside from maybe Loona? She's written so inconsistently. There's no real development when it comes to Loona. She acts like a huge bitch and a spoiled brat despite receiving love from her dad for five years straight. She is a grown ass woman who kicked Blitzø in the balls after telling Octavia that Stolas is "trying his best" when he clearly wasn't. She physically abused Blitzø just because he called her out RIGHTFULLY, remind me why she didn't beat the shit out of him again in the latest episode after Blitzø wanted her to overwork herself AND didn't pay her for a month?

Oh and there's also the time Loona cheered for Blitzø, tucked him in and called him dad. Why is she abusive towards him in the very next episode?

That's the inconsistency I'm talking about.

As for the other main characters:

I genuinely relate to Octavia. And I feel sorry for her. Enough said.

I don't care about Millie. It's too little too late for that.

I'm not sure how to feel about Moxxie. Where is his character arc even going? What is his character arc? Learning to stand up for himself for the millionth fucking time?

Stella is a wasted character whose only purpose is making Stolas seem "innocent." I hate what the writers did to her.

Also yes, I dislike Viv for reasons that are 100% valid and available to the public, so I'm not making stuff up.

[gothamusing]

THE PENGUIN, EPISODE ONE. a collection of memes derived from episode one of the penguin series, for roleplaying purposes. feel free to edit as you see fit. do not steal. (18+).

i see you've made yourself at home.

what the fսck are you talking about?

you got some big shoes to fill.

you think i'm an idiot?

we keep a stash in the loft if you want a hit.

that's not why i'm here.

you know what i like most about you? you are who you are. you couldn't change if you tried.

i'm talking about revolutionizing the game.

fuck. look at you salivating.

this is power, right?

when i was kid, there was a gangster, real old-school type. he was a big deal.

you want me to be like some small-time asshоlе?

this is your dream!

you really think people'd make a float of your dumb face and march it down the street, chanting your goddamn name?

what a little bitch.

you messed with the wrong fucking guy on the wrong fucking night!

jesus, take a breath.

hey, look at me.

how far do you think you'd get?

you and me, we're in this together now.

look what you fucking made me do.

you're gonna do everything i say.

i feel better. you feel better?

you ever been to that corner mart, next to the... uh, coin-o-matic?

they still sell those slush puppies?

you alone?

i need an alibi. ideally, for the whole night.

sounds like we had fun.

i asked for extra pickles, and they give me two? so what, a normal amount of pickles is one? makes no goddamn sense.

the smart play here is to kill you and stuff you in the trunk with stinky, be done with both of youse.

if you step out of line just once, i swear to god, I'll gut you like a fսcking fish. do you understand?

we ain't got a lot of time.

we all got our own vices.

nine times out of ten, these top-tier guys wanna meet face-to-face to feel big, so i make myself small, they feel better about themselves, and i get to go back to work.

i'm messing with you.

maybe look for your sense of humor. it's gotta be here somewhere.

so, uh, we got something to celebrate, or what?

this is my operation, you can't just shut it down.

there's blood in the water, everyone knows it.

the last thing we need is a god damn gang war!

you will do as you're told.

you're free to leave.

at the end of the day, this is all about money, right?

it's good to see you.

you've really moved up in the world, haven't you?

we're long overdue for a catch-up, you and me.

let's get a bite to eat.

my father used to bring me here when i was a kid. he paid me to keep my elbows off the table.

you think they're wondering if it's really me?

what did the gazette call me?

if only i'd been a dutiful daughter.

are you nervous?

i'd hate for you to feel nervous around me.

despite what you might think, i don't blame you.

how do you know about his plan, and why on earth would you pitch it as your own?

he's keeping us both in the dark, and i don't know why.

he's got a penchant for drops. and booze and gambling. i'm pretty sure he's got a sеx thing, too.

i was actually drowning my sorrows with my lady friend last night.

i doubt anything will turn up, but it's worth a shot.

i'm probably just being crazy.

thanks for lunch, i'll get the next one.

you know. people underestimate you, but not me.

i've always known you were capable of more.

scan the code. see gotham's true face.

get the fuck outta here.

i ain't never taken anyone here before.

what're you doing here?

what do you mean what am i doing here? i came to see you.

i got you something. come here.

what did you do?

wait. was i expecting you?

we're gonna leave town for a while.

someone's here.

will you tell me first what i did to lose your respect?

it ain't safe for you here. you understand?

why'd you shoot him?

now, can we go please?

it was impulsive. it was stupid. is that what you wanna hear?

jesus, i'm trying to take care of you.

i can't risk it.

i can't risk you.

look at me.

don't you see, dear? what you did wasn't impulsive. it was instinctual.

you're so close now to having everything you ever wanted, everything you deserve.

this city is meant to be yours, sweetheart.

i've been where you are.

they don't even know what they got, 'cause they always had it.

i wanna offer my services to you and your family.

oh, you wanna throw stones?

from where i sit, and where you sit, i don't think you're in a position not to hear me out.

i could give you everything you need.

revenge don't come easy.

he was a dirty rat.

he played us both for fools.

but he's dead, and i'm here now, and i'm offering you the opportunity of a lifetime.

i know a lot more than people think.

you and me, we can tear down their fսcking empire from the inside out.

what is it you're really after?

i know who you are. i know what you are.

i don't work with people whose loyalty is for sale.

you think i forgot all the times you schmoozed me and my boys just to turn around and fսck us?

look, i can see you're upset. trust takes time. but this ain't bullshit.

it's good seeing you. you look good.

it's a terrible feeling, isn't it?

i just wonder how you see me.

that's what you wanted, right?

you are so good at talking your way out of things.

it's just you and me now, okay?

am i crazy?

tell me that i'm too emotional, and that i have an overactive imagination, and that i shouldn't take things so personally.

what the fuck is this?

you did good today.

didn't we agree the head alone would be the most poetic, and the pinky, the cherry on top?

yeah. at least (blank) got the message.

from here on out, there's no more playing it safe.

i'm gonna run this goddamn city.

[camryn-haitani]

c'mon bugaboo

cat noir x reader

'sentibubbler': season 4, episode 10

TW: angst and comfort, cursing, spoilers for that episode.

this is a little scenario I had in my head about him, so I decided to put it here. I don't know if this is really angst but I'm just gonna put it just in case. I'm sorry I've been gone for so long, here's my apology<3

- - - - - -

"b-but I wanna help. why can't I help?" cat noir asks.

"well, we really don't need your cataclysm so" rena says as she makes a mirage of ladybug. she runs off, rena following the fake ladybug.

"well.... there's nothing I can do now. I feel useless now ladybugs the guardian of the miracle box." cat sighs.

cat felt useless like he said. since ladybug can temporarily give people miraculous's, there was almost no need for him anymore. cat goes off with no destination in mind. he just jumps around from roof to roof. rena said their plan didn't require cat noir, so he walks around for hours. he sees the miraculous ladybug fix everything and sighs. by the time he's tired of running, he jumps down onto a roof and sits down, not knowing he's waken up someone.

y/n pov

"what the fuck, who or what is on my roof?" I get up from my bed to see what the noise came from.

I see that familiar black cat costume with the matching ears coming from that blond head.

"cat?" I walk up behind him and sit down.

"o-oh I'm sorry. I landed too hard and probably woke you up. I'll leave." he stands up to leave. "no no no, I was already awake. I've just gotta ask, what are you doing here? shouldn't you be with ladybug?" I sit down next to him.

he sighs, debating on whether to tell you or not. "well..." he goes on.

"ladybug hasn't really been needing me the last few missions. she's been asking other people for help. and...." he takes a breath, holding in tears, "it makes me feel like she doesn't need me anymore. like she's tossed me to the curb. like today, nino got akumatized into the sentibubbler by shadow moth. I was all ready to come and help, but rena said they don't need me..." I see a single tear fall from his eyes.

"ladybug has missed a lot of our nightly patrols. I miss it. I miss saving akumatized villains, I miss our patrols around Paris, I miss...." he takes a breath, "I miss her."

I look at him and hold his hand. I see him look at my hand on his.

"I'm kinda in the same situation, cat. but that's for another day. I don't wanna put this on you. do you wanna come in? it's kinda cold out here." I ask.

"sure... it is a bit chilly" he stands up and follows me.

we walk through my back door into my room. my room is quite big with the couch so it won't be too cramped with both of us in here(I know this is a bit much but just work with me please).

"hey cat." I look at him. "what's up?" he tries to say without breaking his voice. I hold out my arms to invite him in a hug. he looks at me with sad eyes, tumbles into my arms and breaks down crying.

he cries for a good while and when he calms down he asks, "am I just not enough?" he whispers. "oh cat, of course you're enough. I can't tell you why she gives other people miraculous's. but I do know that you're a great hero to Paris."

"I am?" he looks up at me. "yes cat, you're the best hero i have ever seen." I reassure him.

"thank you, truly. I'm sorry I was so loud on your roof." he apologizes. "no no it's ok, I'm glad you were because I wouldn't have met you" he smiles at my words. I hear faint beeps as cat looks down at his ring. "shit, I gotta go. it was nice meeting you......?" he pauses, not knowing my name. "it's y/n. is there a name I can call you instead of cat?" he laughs a bit at my question, "call me whatever you come up with, i don't mind." he answers.

"it was nice meeting you, kitty," I take his hand before he leaves, "if you ever feel like this again or need to talk, I'm always free. come by anytime." I smile.

"of course, cutie. I wouldn't want to miss any opportunity to see you again." he kisses the back of my hand.

"I'm see you soon, kitty." I kiss his cheek. he smiled at my kiss and went out the window.

'i hope I see him again. he's pretty cute.' I say to myself. I go back to my bed and drift off into sleep, thinking about a certain cat in mind.

- - - - - -

I will hopefully be doing a part 2 if y'all are interested<3

[celiastjamesoscar]

Happiness is a Butterfly

Pairings: ghostface!Sam Carpenter x shy!reader

Summary: the plan was to tell you at some point, but Sam didn’t know how. Only when you find out by accident about your girlfriend’s activities, does Sam realize the consequences of continuing her father’s legacy.

Warnings: mentions of murder, protective Sam, one mention sexual abuse cases, hinted predator teacher, angst. Let me know if I missed any!

My Masterlist

AN: Came from this request! This wasn’t proof read at all, and I reread it once I wake up in the morning

Word Count: 9.9K

You sat in peaceful silence as you watched the TV. It was around 11 on a Friday night, and you were patiently waiting for your girlfriend, Sam, of eight months, to return home. You were over at her place, and you had been hanging out with Tara before she called it a night and went off to bed, leaving you alone in the quiet apartment as the soft voice of Daenerys Targaryen filled the air.

Usually, you would watch Game of Thrones with Sam, but with nothing better to do as you waited for your lover to return home from work, you rewatched the earlier seasons.

The sound of keys jingling at the door pulled you away from the TV, and you stood up from the couch as Sam walked into the apartment. “Hey,” she quietly said as she put up her purse and walked to you.

“Hey,” you replied with a smile as you kissed her for the first time since she left for work, “How was your day?”

Sam huffed at your question as she pulled you to the couch, “Better, now that you’re here,” she said as she sat on the sofa and pulled your legs into her leg.

“Well, I’m glad that I can help brighten your day,” you responded with a smile as you placed a quick kiss on your girlfriend’s lips, and she frowned at how short it was.

“Are you seriously watching Game of Thrones without me?” Sam questioned with a look of hurt as she watched the TV.

You scoffed at her words as you reached for the remote, “No, I was watching the older seasons while I waited for you. Do you really think I’m that evil?” You teased with a playful smile.

“Sometimes,” Sam quietly mumbled under her breath, hoping you didn’t hear her smartass comment, but luck had never been on her side.

“Well, then,” you said as you stood up from the couch, “If you want to complain about me, then I’ll just leave.”

“Come on, Y/N. I was just joking,” Sam whined as she watched you get up, hoping you were joking and weren’t upset, “Please sit back down.”

Deciding to take your joke a little further, you walked away from a disappointed Sam and into the kitchen. You heard your girlfriend groan, and you had to bit back a laugh as you grabbed a bottle of water before returning to your seat next to the woman.

You said nothing as you grabbed the remote, picked the episode you and Sam had left off on, and sipped your water before setting it on the coffee table and resting your head on Sam’s lap.

“I knew you weren’t actually mad,” Sam softly said as she ran her finger through your hair, and you hummed in response. You enjoyed these soft moments with Sam, even though she could be intense sometimes. You were naturally reserved and took to hiding in the shadows whenever you could, but when you were with Sam, you felt comfortable enough to let down your walls, and Sam loved that she brought you comfort.

Of course, because you were so reserved and passive, you let people take advantage of your niceness. You were never one to say no to people, so some nights, Sam would find you staying up until two in the morning finishing homework for people who only used you for their benefit.

Sam had tried to talk to you about letting people do this to you, but you shrugged it off and told her that you didn’t mind helping your colleagues occasionally. So, Sam became naturally protective of you, and if she were with you when someone asked you to do their homework, she would ‘politely’ tell them to fuck off. And you would hate to admit it, but you found it quite hot and flattering.

After you two finished an episode, you yawned and checked the time before groaning. “Come on, Sam. It’s time for bed,” you stated as you lifted your head from your girlfriend’s lap and stood up. Sam groaned as she stood up and followed you into her room, and she grabbed some clothes for her shower.

“Wanna join?” Sam asked with a mischievous smirk when she felt your eyes on her as she walked toward her bathroom. “You know, honey. There’s a gun in the footlocker in the garage. If I ever say no to that question, I want you to use it on me,” you replied, smiling as you followed Sam into her bathroom.

You undressed as Sam turned on the shower and took off her clothes as well. When the water was hot enough, you both stepped in and shared a kiss under the shower. “I love you,” Sam mumbled against your lips before pulling back and grabbing a pink loofah sitting on a shelf in the shower. “I love you too,” you replied as Sam turned you around, put some soap on the loofah, and gently washed your back.

The way Sam was with you, you couldn’t describe it. She was so gentle and loving, and she made sure you were always safe, sometimes being a bit too overprotective. Some people saw that as controlling, but you knew the real Sam; she would let you do whatever you wanted, as long as you were safe and updated her once every couple of hours. She just worried about you and wanted to protect you at all costs, even if that meant painting the town red every once in a while.

You two finished up your shower after sharing a few stolen kisses and got ready for bed before you laid in bed together. “Come here,” Sam said as she pulled you closer to her body, and you tucked your head into her neck before kissing her soft skin.

“Goodnight, Y/n,” Sam whispered as she held you close. “Goodnight, Sam,” you replied with sleep in your voice. After a few minutes, you quickly fell asleep in your girlfriend’s arms, the safest place you could be.

Only, you didn’t know about the monster she hid within herself. You had no idea that your loving girlfriend was the same person violently murdering people at night, but all secrets are unveiled in the end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Aren’t you guys worried about the Ghostface attacks happening all over the city?” Your best friend Olivia asked. You two were at the library with Tara and Mindy, trying your best to cram in a study session before your calculus exam at the end of the week.

“Uh, no. I honestly would prefer it if someone violently murdered me to death right now because I do not want to take this exam,” Mindy replied nonchalantly as she flipped through her math packet, “You know, I’m glad Isaac Newton died a virgin, this shit is stupid.”

“I agree with you on that. But I am a little worried about the attacks, even though it hasn’t been confirmed as Ghostface ones,” Tara replied hesitantly.

Olivia shrugged at the two responses before turning to you, “What do you think about them?”

Unlike Mindy and Tara, you weren’t at the 2022 attacks, so you never had a connection with Ghostface until you started dating Sam. “I don’t know what to think,” you replied after thinking about it briefly. You weren’t much of a talker, even with your closest friends, and the current conversation was one you didn’t know you would ever be having.

“Whatever, I just think you guys should be extra careful. Especially you, Y/n,” Olivia said as she reached out and touched your wrist. “What? Why me?” You asked with concern.

Olivia gave you a flirtatious smile as she squeezed your wrist, “Because, silly, you are dating the daughter of the original killer. If that doesn’t put a target on your back, I don’t know what will.”

For unknown reasons, Olivia’s comment made your blood boil. She had no right to assume you were in danger just because you were dating Sam.

“Am I interrupting something?” A low voice asked from behind you, and you quickly pulled your hand away from Olivia’s grasp as you turned to face the voice. It was Sam, but there was something in her eyes that you hadn’t seen before, and it scared you. You knew that Sam would never hurt you, but you were still afraid of the murderous look she had.

‘No, we were just talking about the recent attacks,” you said with a smile, trying to ignore Sam’s murderous gaze. “Mhm,” Sam replied as her eyes burned into Olivia’s, who seemed ignorant about Sam’s frustration when she threw an arm around you.

“Y/N, here, seems to not care about the attacks, and I tried telling her that she needs to be worried!” Olivia exclaimed as she pulled you closer to her, and you tensed up at the contact. Physical touch was never your forte, but you only loved it from Sam, so everyone else who touched you made you uncomfortable.

Sam’s eyes darted between you and the girl, and she noticed how your eyes cried out for help, so Sam reached out to you, and you graciously accepted her hand. “I’m sure that Y/N is more than capable of protecting herself, Olivia. I wish I could say the same about you,” Sam replied as she pulled you from Olivia’s hold and to your feet.

Olivia huffed at Sam’s words before returning to her homework, clearly embarrassed that Sam had implied she couldn’t protect herself, which was true.

“I’m going to head home; you two coming?” You asked Mindy and Tara as you packed your things and placed them in your backpack. “No, I’m going to stay a bit longer; I’ll text you when I leave,” Mindy replied, and Tara said the same thing.

“Alright, just be safe. I love you two,” you replied, smiling before leaving the library with Sam.

“‘I love you two,” Sam stated once you two had gotten in the car, and you were confused at her reciting your words from before. “What?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

Your girlfriend started the car and looked at you before driving to your apartment. “You just said, ‘I love you two,’ and it confused me; that’s all,” Sam admitted as she continued driving. You were even more puzzled at her explanation, and you were worried that she was jealous.

“Sam, I don’t love them like I love you, so if that’s what you’re implying, then I don’t appreciate it,” you confessed as you fidgeted with your fingers, and Sam felt guilty for the misunderstanding.

A gentle and loving hand reached over and grabbed ahold of your hand. “No, I was implying anything like that, Y/N. It’s just you said ‘two’ and not ‘three,’” Sam observed with a smile, glad you didn’t tell Olivia you loved her.

“Oh, yeah,” you weakly replied as you laced your fingers with Sam’s. “Is everything alright?” Sam questioned when she heard your change of tone.

You sighed as you squeezed her hand and looked over at her; she had her eyes focused on the road but would occasionally look over at you when she had a chance. “Promise you won’t get mad?” You asked, and Sam immediately tensed up, expecting the worst.

“Depends on what it is,” Sam coldly stated, and you couldn’t decide if you should tell her the truth.

You took a deep breath and kissed the back of your girlfriend’s hand before you admitted, “Olivia kind of told me she has feelings for me.”

Sam scoffed at your statement, and you could feel the anger radiating off of her, but she gently squeezed your hand, telling you she wasn’t mad at you. “How long ago did she tell you?”

And that’s where the problem was; Olivia had told you almost two weeks ago, and you had hoped to avoid the situation altogether, but now you are driving home with your angry girlfriend.

“Two weeks ago,” you mumbled with your head hung low as Sam approached your apartment. Olivia’s confession surprised you, as you had been dating Sam for some time, and she also knew about your relationship. You explained to her that you cherished her friendship and that you cared for her, but only as a friend. And you also told her that your heart only belonged to Sam, which seemed to anger her, but you ignored it as jealousy.

“Unbelievable,” Sam huffed as she removed her hand from yours, and your heart sank at the loss of contact as tension filled the air. Her eyes were once again filled with that murderous rage, and you cowered in your seat, hoping she wasn’t angry with you, but you didn’t believe that for a second.

You two sat silently for several moments before you grabbed your backpack and opened the door. “Goodnight, Sam. I love you,” you weakly said with a weak smile as you exited the car and shut the door. You hated yourself for not telling Sam as soon as you found out, but you were just trying to protect Olivia from Sam’s wrath. But now, as you walked into your apartment building, still feeling the tension from earlier, you wished you could take it all back.

You had gotten in the elevator, and just before the doors shut, a hand slid in and opened the doors back up, and Sam stepped into the small metal box. “I don’t want you to go up alone,” Sam admitted while looking at the ground. You smiled at your girlfriend and gently brushed your hand against hers, and she laced your fingers together.

When the elevator reached the eighth floor, the doors opened, and you two walked to your apartment room together. “Are you coming?” You asked once you unlocked your door and pushed it open. The way Sam’s eyes refused to meet yours was laughable, but you feared that now wasn’t the best time to laugh at her insecurities.

Without saying a word, Sam allowed you to pull her into your place, and you shut and locked the door before taking Sam into your room. You set your backpack on the floor and pulled Sam into a loving hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Sammy. You have every right to know about Olivia having feelings for me; I just hoped I could have avoided the situation entirely,” you admitted against Sam’s chest as the older woman kissed your head.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m just glad I know now. And I’m not mad at you; I’m just upset with you, but I forgive you. You can’t control how people feel toward you, and I can’t control how awesome my girlfriend is,” Sam stated with a smile, even though her beautiful brown eyes still had a hint of anger and rage in them as you pulled back and looked at her.

You quickly kissed her before pulling out her grasp and getting ready for bed. “Are you staying here?” You asked while changing into your pajamas. It was only a little past five in the afternoon, so you hoped you could make dinner and watch a movie with your girlfriend.

“No, I got some stuff I have to do tonight,” Sam replied as her hungry eyes raked over your body as you changed, trying her best to keep her composure. “Like what?” You asked with a curious look.

A slight smirk appeared on Sam’s lips as she spoke, “Well, that takes the surprise out of it, doesn’t it?” You rolled your eyes at her reply but kissed her once again before you followed her into the living room. “Just be safe, Sam. And let me know when you get home,” you stated with a hint of worry. You knew Sam could protect herself, but that didn’t stop you from worrying.

“I know, Mom,” Sam sarcastically said with a smile. “Sam,” you deadpanned, and the woman shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, “I’m being serious. If I don’t get a text back when you get home, I will have your head.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll have my head soon enough,” Sam joked with a sly smirk as she kissed your lips and opened the front door, “But I promise I will text you. Okay?”

“You better.”

“I will. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you replied as Sam smiled and left your apartment. And you quickly locked your door before going into the kitchen and making some dinner for yourself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of your phone vibrating awoke you from your sleep. You fumbled for your phone before you grabbed it and answered the call. “Hello?” You husked as sleep was evident in your voice.

“Y/N! Are you okay? Where are you?” Tara panically asked as she paced around her room. It was almost two in the morning, and she was studying for her math test when the news came on, and her blood went cold.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m at my place. What’s going on?” You asked as you slowly moved in bed and turned on your bedside lamp. “Turn on the news,” Tara breathlessly replied.

Doing what the younger girl told you, you grabbed your TV remote and turned on the TV. “- A man was stabbed to death near 56th Street early tonight. Police are yet to release any information on the suspect, but we do know the suspect wore a Ghostface mask. As for the victim, 28-year-old William Donald was stabbed 22 times and killed. We are aware that Donald has had a history of sexual abuse cases, so we are left wondering if this is the act of a vigilante-”

Ringing was all you heard as the news anchor continued talking. You could see his mouth moving, but you only heard ringing as you exited your bed. You could faintly hear the voice of Tara as you texted Sam. You never received a text message from her, and you were starting to freak out; she always would text you when she got home, no matter how busy she was.

“Y/N? Are you there? Hello?” Tara asked as the ringing finally left your eyes, and you started to come back to reality.

“Where’s Sam?” You asked, and your heartbeat stopped when you heard Tara’s reply, “I thought she was with you.”

Panic coursed through your veins as you sprung up from bed. “No, she left here around 5, and she was supposed to text me when she got back home,” you replied as you put Tara on speakerphone and searched for different clothes.

“She never came home last night, Y/N,” Tara uttered, and your body went rigid. Thoughts of what could have happened to Sam ran through your mind as you changed into better clothing. “Fuck. Have you tried tracking her phone?” You asked while putting on shoes.

“Yeah, Life360 said her phone is off or dead. Y/N, I’m scared,” Tara weakly said; you swore you could hear the faintest sniffle. “Tara, it’s going to be alright, okay? I’m getting ready to head over, and I’ll be there in 10 minutes, okay?” You stated as you grabbed your keys and left your room.

“Okay, just let me know when you are here. Be safe, Y/N. I love you.”

“I love you too; I’ll be right there,” you replied as you hung up the phone and opened the front door to your apartment, and you nearly had a heart attack.

Sam stood before you with her hand raised as if she was getting ready to knock. She wore a blank expression while her eyes were dark, almost evil-looking, as they searched your face something. You quickly pulled Sam into a bone-crushing hug before you pulled back from her and slightly pushed her.

“What the fuck, Sam?! You don’t text me when you get home, and Tara just called me freaking out!” You exclaimed while your eyes examined her body, checking for any injuries she might have.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary except for her haunting dark eyes that never left yours. She wore all-black clothing, and her hair was damp as sweat glistened near her hairline. “Why are you sweating, Sam?” You questioned as your walls started to shoot up. You couldn’t help it that your first thought was that Sam was cheating on you; she didn’t text you back, either turned off her phone or let it die, and appeared in the black of night, sweating and with dark eyes that told the story of dishonesty.

“I ran here as soon as I could. I heard about the attack, and I needed to make sure you were alright,” Sam said as her hands reached out to your sides, but you pulled back, and Sam felt her heartbreak.

Your eyes darted over her face as you tried to decide what to do; on the one hand, you were glad that Sam was safe, but on the other, you were pissed she ghosted nine hours. “Why didn’t you text me when you got home?” You asked as you hid all emotion from your voice, and Sam knew she fucked up.

It’s not like she could tell you the truth; you would be mad at her either way. She hated lying to you, but she only did that when the truth would either push you away or sound like a lie. “I was picking up a gift for Tara, and I didn’t want her to know where I was, so I turned off my phone, and I lost track of time picking up other things for her,” Sam explained as she took off her bag and moved things around in it. You swore you could see the faintest outline of a white mask before Sam blocked your view with her body, pulled out a small rectangular box, and handed it to you.

You gave her a questionable look before slowly reaching out and accepting the box. It was light, but when you moved it around, you heard something move from side to side. You slowly took the lid off, and you smiled at the necklace.

It was a golden heart-shaped locket with floral designs on it. When you opened it, two small pictures were in it. One was a picture of Tara and Sam, and the other was of the Core Four plus you sitting on a couch.

“I picked this up from the jeweler's store earlier and got the pictures from Walgreens. I put them in the necklace while I sat in my car and made her a scrapbook. I guess I lost track of time, and I only realized how late it was when I heard about the attack on the news,” Sam said as she pulled out a scrapbook and handed it to you as well.

On the front center of the book was a weathered picture of Tara, Mindy, and Chad when they were close to eight, wearing matching ninja turtle pajamas. A small sticky note read, ‘When you guys performed a synchronized dance to convince me to let the twins stay the night.’ Underneath the picture, written in black Sharpie, were the words “The Core Four Adventures” and in smaller handwriting, “plus Y/N L/N.”

You laughed to yourself as you read over your name. “Tara would have gotten mad if I didn’t include you,” Sam whispered as she shuffled from foot to foot. You gave your girlfriend a loving grin as you felt your walls crumble before you opened your apartment door and ushered her in.

You two sat on your bed together as you flipped through the scrapbook, and you could tell this must have taken her hours to make. There were several pictures on each page, each with a small sticky note next to it, explaining how much the picture meant to Sam. Every picture included Tara, except one, and your chest fluttered as you looked at it.

It was a picture of you and Sam just before you started dating. You two were hanging Christmas ornaments on a tree. You were placing one on the tree while Sam held one in her hand, staring at you with the most lovesick eyes you had ever seen. The smile on her lips made your heart melt, and tears brimmed your eyes as you read over the sticky note. ‘This was the first time I realized I had feelings for Y/N. I was in denial about it until you showed me this picture you took of us. You changed my life that day in the best possible way, and I thank you every day when I wake up with Y/N in my arms.’

“Tara likes to say she brought us together, so I felt like I had to include that one,” Sam said as her eyes searched your face and noticed the tears in them, and panic set in. “I'm sorry. I should have asked you first if I could put it in,” she apologized as she took the book from you, “I can take it out if you want me to. Fuck, I am so sorry-” you cut off her rambling with a kiss, silently telling her it was okay.

“Sam, it’s okay. I love it,” you mumbled against her lips as you pulled away and set the book down next to the necklace. The dark look Sam had in her eyes was gone entirely, replaced with only the love she felt for you. You smiled at the change, stood up from the couch, and pulled her into your bedroom.

When you got in bed and cuddled into Sam’s arms, you quickly drifted off to sleep, feeling the love radiating off Sam’s body. How she was so gentle with you told you that Sam was telling the truth, and you let all the worry and doubt slip away as sleep took you.

Unbeknownst to you, Sam was glad you didn’t try anything with her tonight, or you would have seen the bruises and cuts that littered her body from William Donald fighting back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks had passed since then, and three more murders happened. With each killing that occurred, your fear increased with it as each one slowly got closer to your apartment. You didn’t fear for yourself per se, but you feared for Sam and the others.

“Sam, I don’t understand why you aren’t worried! Like, at all!” You exclaimed one night while you were over at her place. She has been nonchalant about the murders, but she still makes sure you have all kinds of protection on you when you leave her sight, anything ranging from mace to a small blade. Sam might not have been openly worried, but she made sure you were safe all the time.

You two have been arguing all night about the attacks, and it seemed the more time passed, the angrier you got, while Sam seemed to calm down more.

“Y/N, I am always worried! I just don’t want to freak you or Tara out with my worrying, so I’ve laid off on it,” Sam defended as she paced back and forth in her room while you sat on her bed. Naturally, she was worried, just not about the Ghostface attacks. As your fear increased for her and her sister, she became more worried about how you would handle the fact that she was the Ghostface that had been murdering people. It’s not like she was just playing eenie meenie miney mo to determine her next victim, Sam was picking the scums of the earth, those who had caused harm to others, and she played the judge, jury, and executor perfectly.

“That doesn’t help, Sam, and you know it!” You retorted as you pushed yourself off the bed and left Sam’s room. “Hey, where are you going?” Sam called out as she was a few paces behind you.

“I’m leaving,” you replied as you put on your shoes and grabbed your bag. “Y/N, you can’t leave. It’s dark out, and you said it yourself: The killings are getting closer to your place, so why don’t you just stay here?” Sam reasoned as she cautiously reached her hands out to you, and when you didn’t pull back, Sam wrapped you up in a hug, “Please, just stay here tonight. I know you’re pissed at me, but we need to talk it out instead of leaving.”

A few beats of silence passed before you mumbled against Sam’s chest, “I hate it when you’re right.” Sam laughed at your response and placed a quick kiss on your head before she pulled back, “Come on, let’s go to bed. I miss my girlfriend, and I really like some cuddles.”

You placed a quick kiss on Sam’s lips before you followed the woman into her room. You two climbed into bed together, and Sam quickly wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into her chest. She held you as if you were going to disappear in a matter of seconds, and the comforting hold brought you enough peace to fall asleep in minutes.

While you were fast asleep, a single tear ran down Sam’s cheek as she realized this might be one of the last times she held you in her arms. Afraid that when you found out the truth about her, you would turn her in, or worse, tell her that you wished you had never met her.

Sam could handle you turning her in to the police, but she could not stomach hearing you, the person who changed her life and made her believe that she was more than a cog in a machine; tell her that you regretted meeting her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The loud bass of music rang throughout the house as you pushed through the crowd and tried to find Tara. You had zero intention of coming to this frat party, but Tara told you that she was coming after she promised Sam she wouldn’t go. You were trying to save Tara from an angry sister, and you were trying to protect yourself from a grumpy girlfriend. You sent Sam a quick text, telling her that you were hunting down Tara at a frat party and that you should be home relatively soon.

“Hey! Have you seen Tara?” You shouted over the music at Mindy and Anika, who were passing around a bottle of whiskey. “No, but you might want to check the backyard. I think they are playing beer pong,” Mindy replied before taking a swig of the bottle, and you laughed to yourself when she made a sour face.

Finding Tara in the backyard was a more complicated challenge than you initially believed. The grass was packed with drunken people standing shoulder to shoulder as they stood around a table watching two challengers play an intense game of beer pong. You were making your way to the table when a hand grabbed yours and turned you around.

“Y/N! It’s so nice to see you! It’s been forever!” Olivia slurred out as she pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, and the smell of alcohol invaded your nostrils.

You had been trying to avoid Olivia ever since you told Sam about the girl having feelings for you as a way to respect your girlfriend while trying to help Olivia lose feelings for you.

“Yes, it has been,” you replied with a fake laugh as you tried to wiggle your way out of Olivia’s hold. “So, how have you and Sam been? Still kicking it with grandma?” Olivia joked, but you could hear the venom in her words. She has never been fond of your relationship with the Carpenter girl, and whenever she gets drunk, she loves to let you know about her distaste for Sam.

You gave Olivia a fake smile, “Of course.” You wanted to mention how she was in a relationship with a freshly eighteen-year-old while she was pushing twenty-three, but you kept your mouth shut.

“I don’t know what you see in her. Honestly. She’s a bitch to everyone else, and she’s controlling,” Olivia said as she licked her lips while her eyes dropped down to your lips. ‘Please don’t,’ you thought as you watched her stare at your lips before looking back at you.

“Sam isn’t a bitch, she just doesn’t trust easily. And she’s not controlling; she lets me do what I want, as long as I’m safe,” you explained as you looked around for Tara, but a hand gripped your neck, causing you to turn your focus back to Olivia.

“Don’t look at anyone else. Please, Y/N. Just look at me,” Olivia whispered just before she slammed her lips against yours.

You didn’t have time to react before a booming voice called out from behind you, “Y/N, what the fuck is going on?!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam could only hear the sound of ringing in her ears as she stood over some fool’s body. The man she had just murdered was a local school teacher, and he had gone to trial for acting inappropriately towards his students. Of course, he was able to walk free and return to teaching within a week, claiming he was an innocent man who had been a victim of a coup to get him out of education.

Of course, when Sam held a knife to his throat, his lips sang with all the crimes he had committed within those school walls, and when her knife cut his throat, she smiled as she watched the blood spill out across the floor. This had been the first murder within a couple of weeks; she only stopped for a period of time, so your worry would die just a bit. And it did, and Sam was glad that you were finally able to stop worrying about some murderer who might or might not come after Sam and her found family.

Still in her Ghostface and gown, Sam left the teacher in an abandoned building and went out to her car. She quickly changed, threw her outfit and mask in her trunk, and smiled when she saw your PlayStation. You were bringing it over so you could teach her how to play video games, even though you both knew it was going to end terribly. She closed the trunk, got in her car, and drove home. It might be odd to say, but she missed you at the moment. Sure, she might have just murdered a man, but she was still a softie who needed her nightly cuddles.

As she was driving, her phone dinged with a text message, and Sam hoped it was you letting her know that you were heading over to her apartment. But she frowned as she read over the words.

Mi amor 💕💍: Hey, please don’t get mad at me, but I’m at a frat party hunting down Tara. You know, the one that you told her not to go to. We should be home soon once I find the little shit. Anyway, I love you, Sam. See you soon <3

Of course, she smiled at your sweet words but couldn’t help the anger that stirred in her as she thought about Tara disrespecting her wishes. Tara had been just as worried as you were about the murders, but when they stopped for two weeks, Tara had made the decision that they were done for good and believed that she was free to party as much as she wanted.

“Sam, you told me not to worry about the killings, and I’m not! I’m just going to go to one tiny frat party to celebrate,” Tara reasoned one night after telling Sam she wanted to go to a party.

“Absolutely not,” Sam replied, immediately shooting down Tara’s hopes of getting shit-faced. “Just because the killings have stopped doesn’t mean you have to go out and party to celebrate.”

Because of this, the two sisters got into an argument, one with Tara saying that Sam was ruining her life and another with Sam saying that she was trying to protect her sister from having the life that she once had. Now, both girls were in the wrong, but you said nothing as you listened to them battle it out with words.

And that leads us to the current situation: a pissed-off Sam doing 50 in residential, trying to get the party as soon as she could while you had your lips on another woman’s.

Sam shoved past the crowd as she walked into the backyard, and anger flooded her veins as she saw you and Olivia kissing.

“Y/N, what the fuck is going on?!” Sam demanded as she quickly approached you and Olivia. You two separated when you heard Sam’s booming voice, and you looked like you had just seen a ghost when you saw Sam.

“Sam, I can explain-” you started, but Olivia cut you off. “Sam, Y/N and I are in love. She doesn’t want you anymore; she wants me. So it’s best if you leave.”

The smile you saw on Sam’s face made your blood turn cold, and you felt the hair on your arms and neck stand up. It wasn’t the usual, loving smile you would see. No, this was something far more dangerous. There was no love in that smile, only anger, hurt, and a lust for something you couldn’t describe. Only when you saw the same lust flash in Sam’s eyes, you knew what it was: murder.

You’ve never seen Sam so angry before, but yet, you’ve never seen her this calm. It was as if she was born to have that serial killer in her eyes, and you slowly started to fear Sam at that moment.

“Y/N. What is going on?” Sam asked with a monotone voice as her eyes never left Olivia’s, and you could feel the anger radiating off of your girlfriend. You reached a hand out toward her and gently took Sam’s hand in yours. “Sam, I promise you, this isn’t what it looks like. I was here looking for Tara when Olivia grabbed me. She told me that it had been too long since we had last seen each other, and then she kissed me,” you explained, leaving out the details of her slandering Sam in hopes of saving your former best friend. But she ruined that for herself.

“Seriously, Y/N. You’re leaving out the best part!” Olivia exclaimed as she got close to Sam, and Sam made a sour face when she smelt the alcohol on the girl’s breath. “I told our dear, sweet Y/N that you were too old to take care of her and that she needs someone younger. Someone who can make her happy instead of reading her bedtime stories. And I also told her that you were a bitch, which, let’s be honest here, is the truest thing I have ever said!”

“Olivia, that’s enough,” a new voice stated, and you smiled when you saw Tara walk up. She staggered as she walked, but her voice sounded sober and threatening. “I’ll let you slander Y/N, but I draw the line at Sam. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The fuck do you mean I don’t know what I’m talking about?! Sam is, and always will be, a bitch! I mean, come on, Y/N! Why can’t you open up your eyes and realize how much better I am than her? Or are you just as pathetic as her? Huh? You're too afraid to give a real woman a chance, so instead, you stick with a pathetic former drug addict. I guess you were always weak, but I didn’t think you would be this fucking pathetic. But I guess you will always be-” Any word that was about to leave Olivia’s lips died when Sam’s fist connected with her face. The sound of bone crunching echoed over the loud music, and then it went silent.

The music was still playing, but Sam could only hear ringing in her ears as she hit Olivia again, sending her to the ground. Before you could react, Sam was mounting Olivia’s waist and continued her assault on the girl. When Sam brought her fist up again, you quickly caught it and forced Sam to look at you. “Sam, that’s enough. Let’s go,” you stated, leaving no room for negotiation as you pulled Sam off the girl.

Sam grumbled at your statement but got off of Olivia nonetheless. You, Sam, and Tara made your way out to the older sister’s car, only stopping to explain the situation to Mindy and Anika.

“Good luck with her,” Mindy joked as she watched an angry Sam sulk in the corner with Tara beside her while you talked to the two girls. “Tell me about it,” you mumbled with a weak smile before telling the girls goodbye and walking to Sam’s car.

The car ride was silent; not even music played to help ease the tension. You were in the passenger seat while Tara was in the back, silently praying to the old gods and the new that Sam would take pity on her, but she doubted that would happen.

When you three arrived at the Carpenter apartment, Sam made no effort to get out of the vehicle, whereas Tara flew out as soon as the car came to a halt. You looked over at Sam’s right hand, and you saw the knuckles were already turning a deep shade of purple while blood had dried on them.

Slowly, you reached out to Sam and gently took it in yours before bringing it up to your lips and placing a loving kiss on the back of her hand. When your lips made contact with her skin, Sam let out a sigh she didn’t know she was keeping. The way you were so gentle with her made her extremely emotional, and after the night she just had, she wanted to be vulnerable with you.

“I love you, Sam. You know that, right?” You said against your lover’s hand as you peppered kisses on her hand, then her wrist, and all the way up her arm, and you stopped at her shoulder, “I love you more than anything else, but you didn’t have to do that. You don’t have to defend me like that; it will only get you in more trouble with the media than you already are.”

“Y/N, I know you worry about me, but I had to defend you,” Sam replied while you placed another kiss on her hand.

“I know, Sam. But what will happen when people hear about this and-”

“I don’t care about what people say or think about me, Y/N! I don’t care! But I do care about you and everything that involves you. So if that means I have to throw a few punches from time to time, then I don’t care. Keeping you safe, that’s all I care about,” Sam breathlessly declared as her eyes finally met yours, and you saw love and understanding replace that lustful, murderous look.

“I know, and thank you for defending me, but I just worry about you too, Sam. You’re the love of my life, and I would die if anything happened to you,” you said with a soft smile as you looked at Sam with hearty eyes. Sam leaned over and placed a kiss on your lips and cherished the sweet moment with you, not knowing that it all would crumble down around her in mere moments.

“Are you ready to go inside?” Sam mumbled against your lips before pulling back. “Yep! Where’s my PlayStation at?” You asked as you turned in your seat and checked the backseat for it, but nothing came up.

“It’s in the trunk,” Sam thoughtlessly replied, too wrapped up in the moment with you to realize her grave mistake. “Okay, I’ll grab it real quick, and then we can head up,” you said with a soft smile as you got out of the car and went to the trunk. Only when Sam heard you open the trunk did she realize what else was back there, and she quickly got out of the vehicle and got to the trunk, but it was too late.

The crickets stopped chirping as if they knew about the situation as Sam slowly rounded the vehicle and was met with your expressionless face. “Y/N…” Sam trailed off as she looked in the trunk, and her heart sank when she saw that you were holding her blood-stained gown and caressing your fingers across the fabric. “I can explain this.”

You said nothing as you moved the gown to the side and grabbed the bloody knife that was formerly hidden. You traced your fingers along the blade's edge, and you shoved Sam off of you when she tried to take it from you in fear of you cutting your finger. Once you were done looking at the all-too-familiar knife, you set it down on the gown as you reached for the infamous Ghostface mask. You hadn’t to admit it, but the mask smelled like Sam, like your home. You ran a finger around the cheekbones and then around the hollowed-out eyes as Sam continued talking, but you could only hear ringing in your ears.

Only when you threw the mask down and closed the trunk did the ringing leave, and you could finally hear Sam talking again. “Y/N, please. Talk to me, baby,” Samatha pleaded as she watched you quickly walk off. Your head was completely empty as the woman beside you continued talking, continued begging you to speak to her, to hear her out. In another situation, it would have been amusing to see Sam beg this much, but not now. Not when you had just discovered she had been the one murdering those around the city.

The walk back to your apartment was one filled with tense, awkward silence once Sam realized she was going to get nowhere with you. Not right now, at least. She was going to give you some time to process what you had just discovered; she only hoped you wouldn’t take too long.

The older woman walked you up to your apartment, and only when you reached your place did you turn and face Sam. The look in her eyes broke your heart; it was full of regret that soon turned to grief. She was grieving her relationship with you, the future with you that she hoped would be a long and blissful one, and her life. You were Sam’s life, her heart, the reason she got out of bed in the morning, and she knew that she would not be able to live a life without you.

“Goodnight, Samatha,” you blankly said as you turned to open your door and shut it in Sam’s face. Once your door was closed, Sam couldn’t help the tears that escaped as her heart ripped open. She knocked and pleaded with a broken voice to get you to open that door and let her talk to you, but she got no reply. Sam knew it was useless; you had never called her ‘Samatha’ before, not even before you started dating.

Late one night, a couple of weeks after you had first met Sam, you asked her why she went by ‘Sam’ and not ‘Samatha.’ It was an honest question; you were curious as to why she wanted to go by her nickname, and you were glad that she did; it suited her a lot more than ‘Samatha’ did.

You thought she was going to tell you that she just thought it sounded cooler when she was younger, so she kept it. Or that she went by Sam because it was easy to say. You didn’t expect her to open up about her traumatic childhood and how her abusive mother would only call her ‘Samatha.’ She told you that her mother never had anything nice to say, and every sentence would either start or end with Samatha, and it would constantly be belittling her. “It just got to the point where I started to hate everything about myself, even my own fucking name,” Sam had admitted before finishing, “But Tara would always call me ‘Sam’ because it “sounded cooler.” So, I decided to keep the nickname.”

When Sam had told you that, the only thought that plagued your mind was making sure that Sam knew how much you cared about her. So, for the first time, you held Sam in her arms while you two slept on the couch, and Tara snuck a picture of you two cuddled together. And to this day, that picture remains Sam’s Lock Screen as she stares down at her phone with tears in her eyes as she tries to unlock her phone so she can call you.

“Come on,” Sam muttered as she called you, and she let out a pathetic whimper when it went straight to voicemail. “Come on, baby, please. I need you,” Sam muttered again as she tried to call you for a second time, but to no avail. Panic started to settle into Sam’s bones as she tried to call you again and again, and after realizing that you weren’t going to pick up, she left.

Sam doesn’t remember how she got back to her place or how long it took her; the only thing she remembered was leaving your apartment and then collapsing into her bed. For the first time since she stayed with her sister in the hospital almost a year ago, she cried herself to sleep. With every tear that ran down her cheek it signaled her love for you, her regret for lying to you, and her grieving for any future that you two might have had together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn’t talk to Sam for two weeks, and truth be told, those were the worst weeks of your life. You had gotten so used to falling asleep in Sam’s muscular arms that you were always cold despite having numerous blankets on top of you. When you would get up and go to the bathroom at night, you would always come back to an awakened Sam who was outstretching her arms, patiently waiting for you to come back to bed so she could cuddle with you some more.

Your heart cried out for the home you had once known, but now, you were sleeping in a cold bed with no one to warm it with you. You would twist and turn into the hours of the morning, and you would cry when you realized that Sam wasn’t coming back.

When you weren’t sulking at home about your collapsing relationship, you went to parties with Tara. The girl knew about your quick change in mood but just chalked it up to be your shy personality. At the parties, you would third wheel with Anika and Mindy, but when someone brought up the previous Woodsboro killings and ran their mouth with Sam’s name in it, you became unnaturally aggressive.

One moment, you were standing awkwardly next to the couple, and then the next, you were on top of someone, beating the holy hell out of them. It took both Mindy and Chad to pry you off of them, and that’s how you would spend every party you went to; getting into fistfights with random strangers. You had gotten into so many fights in such a short amount of time that your fists had turned a permanent dark purple color, and they ached every time you moved your fingers.

You and Sam might not be on the best of terms at the current moment, but you would be damned if you let some random stranger slander her name. You would die for that woman; you just needed time to process what you discovered about her. And if that meant taking your anger out on incels, then so be it. But it’s not every day that you find out the love of your life, your soulmate, is a serial killer. No matter if they were killing the innocent or the guilty, it still changed your perspective of things. You were getting ready to pay Sam a visit when the woman had texted you.

Sammy 😩🖤: We need to talk. You can come over here if you want to. Tara is home, so that way you might feel safer to be around me. Or I can come over to your place, whatever works for you.

Your heart broke as you read over Sam’s text again and again. The fact that she was worried that you might feel unsafe around her killed you, and you only wanted to hold her in your arms. But, you have also grown to know what it means when someone says, ‘We need to talk’; it always means a breakup.

The thought of your relationship ending with Sam was not one you had expected nor wanted, even though you ignored all of her attempts to talk to you. You weren’t doing it because you were angry; you were just trying to find the right words to say.

Instead of ignoring her texts like you had done with the previous ones, you replied.

Y/N L/N: Yeah, I’ll head over to your place. I’ll be there in ten minutes

With a deep breath, you put your shoes on, grabbed your phone, and walked to Sam’s apartment. The walk there was peaceful despite the late afternoon traffic. It allowed you to think about what you wanted to say to Sam when you saw her for the first time in two weeks, and you hoped that you could save your relationship with the woman.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of Sam’s door, and you took a deep breath before you knocked. In a matter of moments, the door opened, and your heart sank as you looked at your lover. Her eyes were darker than usual and had bags under them. You knew Sam hardly slept without you, and in a weird way, you were glad that the both of you needed each other. She had stress lines that showed near her eyebrows and a fake smile as she moved to the side and let into her apartment.

You followed Sam to her room, and she shut the door as you sat on her bed, preparing for the inevitable breakup that was surely to occur.

“Thank you for agreeing to talk with me,” Sam stated as she awkwardly stood between you and her dresser. She shifted from one foot to another and fidgeted with her hands before shoving them in her bomber jacket pockets. “There’s some stuff you need to know about before I start talking about why I wanted you here.”

You nodded at her words, silently encouraging the woman to continue, and with a deep, shaky breath, she did. “I didn’t want you to find out that way. I had planned to tell you at some point; I just didn’t know how or when. I knew that once I told you, I could lose you forever, and that scared the shit out of me,” Sam admitted as she blinked back tears but continued, “I love you more than anything, Y/N. I would die for you, but I respect your decision regarding our relationship. So if you’ll let me, I want to break up.”

A broken and weak noise left your lips as you tried to wrap your mind around Sam's words. You knew that it was coming, but hearing it with your ears made it real. “Why?” You asked as you tried to fight back tears, but when you saw how hard this was for Sam, you couldn’t help but let one escape. “Because I want to protect you, Y/N. And if you know about my activities and you choose to stay with me, you will get in just as much trouble as I would,” Sam reasoned.

“I don’t care,” you replied with a shake of your head. “I want you, Sam. No matter what you do. As long as you don’t get caught, I don’t care. I love you more than life itself, and being apart from you for just two weeks was enough hell to last me a lifetime. If you want to continue our relationship, I would appreciate that. But if you really want to stay together, I would like to return to my home then.”

When Sam realized that you were here for the long haul, she allowed herself to be selfish for the first time in her entire life. She slowly approached you and gently took your hands in hers. Sam ran her fingers over your bruised knuckles and placed a kiss on all ten of them before she spoke, “Tara told me you have been getting in fights.”

Feeling embarrassed, you tried to pull your hands away from Sam, but the woman refused to let you go, almost as if she was terrified you had finally come to your senses and were trying to make a run for it.

You stood up from Sam’s bed and wrapped your girlfriend in a tight hug, and you smiled when you heard her let out a whimper-like noise when she felt your arms around her. “I was only defending your name,” you mumbled into Sam’s chest as the woman laughed at your response. “You know I don’t care what people say about me,” Sam retorted with a small laugh.

“I know, but I still like to defend you from time to time, even though you can be an asshole sometimes,” you joked, and Sam only pulled you into a tighter hug. “Thank you, Y/N,” Sam replied and let a few beats pass before speaking again, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you stated as you pulled back from Sam’s embrace and smiled at the slight frown on the woman’s lips, “Are you ready for me to teach you some video games?” You commented as you turned on your PlayStation and grabbed a remote before sitting back down on Sam’s bed and patting a spot next to you.

Sam rolled her eyes at your action but sat down next to you. She listened as you explained to her how The Last of Us works and the lore of the game, but the only thing she really wanted to do was hold you in her arms. But when she made a pass at you, you rejected her advances until she played at least one mission.

You watched and had to bite back several laughs as Sam struggled to get down even the most basic of moves, but you were happy to have your Sammy back.

‘If she’s a serial killer, then what’s the worst that could happen to a girl who’s already hurt?’ You thought as you watched Sam get angry at the clickers and almost throw her remote. No matter what happened, you were glad that you got to spend as much time as you could with Sam, your home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AN: there’s a small mention of Sam and her hands, and I pulled that inspiration from @samcscreams post about how Sam feels towards her hands. You guys should check out their work, it’s simply alluring!

[kazumist]

EPISODE 22 ✿ IT CAN'T HAPPEN

YOU + ME = LOVE — A DILUC SMAU

masterlist / prev ep / next ep / wc: 526.

“stop following me.”

“(name), if you could please just let me explain," he reaches out to you, trailing behind you hastily.

you stopped in your tracks and faced him, fighting and praying for your voice not to crack. “explain what? explain that you’re leaving the country in, like, what? three weeks?”

“i was going to tell you," he says, attempting to gently grab your arm but you pull yourself back out of his reach. “and when would that be? when you’re about to board that goddamn plane? when you’re about to take your first step into another country? when, diluc?” this is precisely why you didn’t want to fall in love. the attachment that comes with it is enough to make you go insane.

“i—”

he was speechless. for once in his life, diluc was speechless. he always knew what to say; there was never a moment where he would be found hesitating in his words. but for some reason, ever since he met you, this is the first time he actually didn’t know what to say. he knew that if he said another word, it would hurt you—the both of you—more.

“thought so.” your words were cold enough to feel like bullets on his skin.

he calls out your name, unsure if he’s making the right decision right now. but you ignored him, taking this as your chance to speak up.

“you know? i knew it was a bad decision. to let myself fall for you, that is. i should’ve kept my balance before succumbing to whatever the hell this pit is, because fucking hell, diluc ragnvindr—i love you. there, i said it. i love you, diluc ragnvindr. even when i don’t want to, i do.”

silence.

say something—do something, anything, diluc. you thought.

he swallowed. “i can’t, (name). we both have bright futures ahead of us and i’m not sure if i’m ready to juggle a relationship with that. you deserve someone who’s willing to take risks for you, and i’m just not that person. i’m a coward. i’m no risk taker. i’m too scared to even take that leap of faith—even if it means that i get to be with you.”

another moment of silence.

diluc continues, moving closer. his steps were cautious, trying to read if you’d let him (which you did). he grabs your arms on both sides at first, then a hand travels to your face, caressing your cheek ever so gently. “i can still help you and continue being your tutor until the semester ends, but this… us…” a deep breath.

“it can’t happen, (name).”

tears started to sting your eyes when you pulled away from him.

“you know what? let's just end it. finals are over, the semester is ending and you'll be graduating soon. thank you for your help, diluc. i really couldn’t have done this without you.”

you walked past him, not even sparing him another glance back. diluc wants to say something—to do something—but no words come out of his mouth and his feet are glued hard to the ground.

so he just watches you leave, lowering his head down after you leave his sight.

extra notes.

i wrote this chapter when i was still working on ep 9. and this is literally ep 22. i was wayyyyy too excited LOL

anyways this is actually one of my favorite parts. hope you guys liked it as well, happy valentine's <3

taglist (open): @ryuryuryuyurboat @g4bbyyy @kizakiss @quackimilktea @mochiboo123 @thystarsshine @cerisescherries @jamieexistss @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @aethion @dottoreworld-page @naishite @sleepyeri @staaarhin @eroxotckv @kiyiiaarchived @fallenssun @lolmeowing @dorryx @astolary @kissingkzuha @axerrri @a1-ic3 @lottierulez @livelaughlovekuni @sorcerersseestars @whipped-for-fictionals @morganadorodo @briluvspnk @venderretta @xiaosoneandonly @angeilix @morgyyyyyyy @kazioli @the-massive-simp @qtange @tiredjxnna @yuminako @acheronie @sn1perz @akitokisser @siu-ssi @artri-ad @hyeinszn @saeskiss @bubblegum-angelquartz @boomie-123 @moni11032 @sandwichmyonetruelove @cherrybb-ily @itztaki @dontmindtheevie @hotgirlshit5 [1/2]

[spidernuggets]

Can I request #15 from the lyric list with Jason Todd please? I think it's perfect for angst or hurt/comfort, whatever you want to write really

Jason Todd x Reader

Warning: Slightly suggestive if you squint

"You with the dark curls, you with the water colour eyes"

"Jesus Christ, how do you expect me not to get upset over something like this, Jason! You're never home anymore! We don't go on dates anymore! Your.. Your friends and family don't even know we're dating!" You yell at him, tears already cascading down your face.

Jason sighs in frustration. It was late in the afternoon when Jason woke up since he was out late on patrol last night. He knew what he was getting into when he started dating you. Dark secrets, little communication. It was selfish of him, but he couldn't help it. The selfish itch in his heart dragged him towards you, not wanting to share you with anyone else.

And together with his other ego of Red Hood, he was out late at night, coming home to you in the early hours of 5am, sleeping in until around 3pm, in which he either has to go to Wayne Manor for training, or go out with Roy for a side mission.

He promised himself not to tell you about his secret life. The less you knew, the safer. Villains wouldn't give to use you as blackmail or kidnap you or hurt you. If any of them did, he wouldn't hesitate to go against Batman's morals and put a bullet through their head, no matter how long it took him to make amends with his adoptive father.

Jason sighed in frustration, pulling his hair back with a firm grip. "They don't need to know!" He says back, slightly raising his voice in attempts to remain as calm as possible. "It's none of their business!"

"How?! Am I not someone you care about?!"

"Of course you are! But they don't need to know that!"

"Why not?!"

"Because I don't want them to!" Jason yells.

You stayed quiet after that. He doesn't want them to know about you? Why?? Was he really ashamed to be dating you? Why the fuck would he date you in the first place then?

Jason's eyes widen. He didn't mean to say it. Not like that, to say the least. He didn't want his friends or family to overwhelm you. He didn't want them to be a variable in what could happen if you'd find out about his other life. And even if you didn't, he especially didn't want the press to be involved when they found out another one of Bruce Wayne's sons has found a lover.

"Doll, I-"

You put your hand out as Jason stepped closer. You spit out a harsh, sarcastic laugh as you dried your tear-stained cheeks. "You know, I thought you wanted to keep this relationship on the down low because I know how much you hate how nosy your family is. But, you know, you could've just said that dating me was that embarrassing. I would've been out of your hair ages ago if you were that ashamed to be seen with me," you snip. You start to walk to your shared bedroom, grabbing your duffel and shoving random clothes into it.

Jason felt paralysed. He couldn't move, and his heart was beating rapidly inside his head. It hurt so much. He just wanted to protect you. He just wanted to keep you safe.

When he was finally abke to manoeuvre his limbs, he rushed towards the bedroom. His head felt like it was about to explode when he saw you zipping up your duffel and throwing it over your shoulder.

"Y/n, please! I didn't-" He tried to call out to you. He tried to reason with you.

"I'll come back for the rest of my stuff next week," you mumble as you walk right past him, refusing to make eye contact with him.

Jason's heart shattered into a million pieces. His mind stopped functioning, and he went into another one of his melancholic episodes. He caved away in your used-to-be shared bedroom for the majority of that week. He clutched your pillow ever so close to him, hoping he was delusional enough to believe it was you. But it wasn't the same. He tried to think of many ways to make it up to you, to grow a pair and try to talk things out. But he's never seen you look so upset.

He wanted to fill his own head with lead. He promised himself never to let you get hurt, and he promised that if anyone did hurt you, he'd kill them. But he was the one who hurt you. And he wanted someone to put him out of his misery.

Bruce then called Jasin near the end of the week, telling him that he had missed too many important missions already and that he needed to get back in the field. Bruce was pissed. But Jason ignored him, as usual.

So, Bruce had no choice but to bring out the big guns. He ordered Alfred to demand Jason to get back to work. Alfred didn't demand, obviously. He just gently laid out that the team couldn't afford any more rest days from Jason, so they all needed Red Hood to get his head in the game. And Jason could never say no to Alfred.

So he put the big, red helmet back on and went out for crime-fighting. Granted, his skills were lacking more than usual, but Dick held Bruce back from making a scene. Dick was the only person to know of yours and Jason's past relationship, and he knew Jason would've been more appreciative and comfortable if he didn't mention it to the others. He eventually found out early in the week that you broke up with Jason and moved out of his apartment, so he understood why he was falling behind on the current mission.

There were a bunch of men who worked for Black Mask roaming the streets. Some were easily tied up already, and some were more skilled than others as there were bullets flying left and right.

Unfortunately, during the same time, you decided it would be a good time to head back to Jason's apartment to grab the rest of your belongings and the Black Man vs. Bats' encounter just so happened to take place on the route.

You were checking your phone and foolishly had your headphones on, too. It wasn't until you were at a witness distance away from the scene and heard a gunshot being fired.

From natural reaction, you screamed. You were at quite far distance, but ome of the men heard you. He called over two other guys with him. They couldn't afford to have a civilian witness.

Just when one was about to throw a knife at you, Red Hood comes swinging in, knocking him out. He disarmed the weapons of the other two, headbutting one, leaving him unconscious, and shot the other in the leg, as if he didn't have any problem fighting two seconds ago.

Your breathing was heavy and you couldn't move from where you were standing.

Red Hood came closer to you, grasping your shoulders, looking around for any wounds or bruises.

"Are you okay??" He asked in complete worry. You knew Red Hood cared about victims and innocent civilians, but he seemed real comfortable right now, but you decided to brush it off.

"Yeah... I think I'm- Watch out!" You tried to warn. The guy who was shot in the leg was able to get up and take a swing at Red Hood's head with a stray metal pole he found near him. Luckily, Red Hood was able to kick the pole out of the man's hand and punch him until he was out cold.

"Shit," Red Hood hisses. He didn't even realise his helmet cracked open until he turned around to check up on you again.

He was about to ask if you were okay again until he realised the shocked expression on your face. The right side of his mask was busted open, showing the pale colour of his green eyes and a few stray strands of dark locks sticking out.

You know those features. You know them so well.

Suddenly, you were back in your shared apartment with Jason, watching 'The Dead Poets Society' during a Saturday afternoon. He was being cradled in your arms, his head laying on your chest, and every few minutes, he would look up at you with those beautiful eyes, smiling and telling you how much he loves you, while your hand intertwined with the curls of his hair.

Suddenly, you were back in your shared kitchen, Jason huddled in the corner, arms wrapped around his knees as his head was buried within his arms. He was having another panic attack, and you slowly approached him, whispering multiple times that it was just you. It was just you and him, and it will always just be you and him. That's when he let you hold him. Your nose was nuzzled into the crown of his head, his hair tickling your neck. And he looked at you with watering eyes, apologising for putting up with him, but you just shushed him, assuring that you're never putting up with him, and that it was just another way of showing that you adore and love him with your whole heart.

Suddenly, you were back on your shared bed with the sheets tossed on the floor. Your hands were at a firm grip, pulling and tugging on Jason's hair as he made sure to keep reminding you to maintain eye contact with him the whole time while his face was settled comfortably between your thighs.

"Jason?"

"Fuck.. You.. You weren't supposed to-" Jason got a report on his comms that the rest of Black Masks' men have been taken out and GCPD will be arriving soon.

"C'mon, let's get you home," Jason mumbles, leading you towards his bike.

"We're going back to your place, Jason," you say behind him, making him stop and turn around to face you. "We're going back to your place, and you're going to tell me everything. You owe me," it wasn't a plead or a beg. It was a demand.

And Jason knew he couldn't be selfish anymore. And he also wanted you back. Back in his apartment, making it your own, too. He wanted you back in his arms. He wanted to be back in your arms. So he nods, taking you to his bike and driving back to his apartment.

He sits you down, asking you once more if you want to know everything in which you just gave him a deadpanned look.

You knew that Jason Todd went missing in some unknown accident. But that was 'Jason Todd', not Robin. So Jason tells you that there was more to his fake death, and you nod giving him the go ahead.

And with that, Jason tells you his story. From him stealing the Batmobile's tires to becoming Robin to getting killed by the Joker to come back to life by the Lazarus Pit, up until this very moment.

You didn't know how to react. You sat there on the couch staring into his eyes. Jason looks away, not wanting to see the look on your face once you've comprehended what he had finally admitted to.

"You've been through so much. And you didn't tell me. Is this why you get those panic attacks? I could've... I could've done more," you mutter. But Jason's eyes widen as he shakes his head, getting on his knees in front of you.

"No. No, Y/n. That isn't your responsibility," he says.

You look at him, annoyed. "My responsibility is to love you, Jason! And being there for you is part of loving you. You could've.. you could've at least told me small parts of your story. You could've told me you were Red Hood, and that would be end of story. I'd still love you.."

He shakes his head once more. "If you knew, you wouldn't be safe. Your safety probably decreased right now, now that you know who I am," he says, almost in a whine. "I just wanted to protect you. Of course, I'd never be embarrassed or ashamed to be seen with you. If I had it my way, if I just lived a normal life, I'd be showing you off to anyone looking our way," he confesses, and you couldn't help but smile.

You hold Jason's face in your hands, holding it so carefully, as if his face was the most delicate thing in the world. "Jay, I know you. I know you can protect me, and your family can protect us. You're so strong. I just know that no harm can come our way," you try to reassure him. He nods in response.

You place a lingering kiss on the crown of his head. "I'll be bringing my stuff back here tomorrow. No more secrets, please, hm?"

"Mhm," he nods. He's tired. And he just wants to be back with you. And you give that to him.

Suddenly, you're back in your shared bedroom on your bed. Your limbs are tangled with Jason's. Your noses are in close proximity. Your eyes are staring back at each other. And your fingers are caressing each strand of hair on his pretty head.

[the-kr8tor]

Hello, I've been trying to reach you about your cars extended warranty:)

(Requesting Reverse Isekai AU thingy please^^)

I don't even have a car 😭 (thank you for requesting muah 😘)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.1k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, lovestruck reader, reverse isekai AU, fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

One minute you're mindlessly scrolling through your phone with your headphones blaring loud music, a minute later you're screaming bloody murder when a geometric glowing portal pops up in your room. It made everything in the room glow orange and yellow as confusion and surprise took over your form.

Are you getting abducted by aliens? Are you in an episode of Rick and Morty? If so, then multiverses are real, it's either that or the mold from your numerous stock water bottles has finally gotten to your brain.

A half second into your contemplation, out comes a man that you're oh so familiar with and oh so smitten with. His boots thump loudly on your floors, spikes glimmering under the red LED lights. The whites of his mask widen when he spots you cowering in the corner, darkness overtakes you when his oh so familiar voice echoes above the whir of the portal.

“This ain't 1346.” You fall off the bed like a damsel in distress.

—

You wake up to water gently splashing your face, flicking more like. And your head aching, eyes adjusting to the sudden light.

“Fuckin' finally, I thought you were dead.” A garbled voice utters as your ears try to waken up from your deep nap. “You alright there?” His voice clears and you still think you're dreaming when Hobie Brown's mask pops up in your vision, droopy eyeliner, spikes and all that jazz that you've practically memorized in your mind.

You thought your poster has once again fallen off the walls and onto your bed. But no, when you touched his bicep abruptly, eyes as wide as saucers, lips stuttering out his name. Your favourite character is real and right in your bedroom, flicking water from one of your numerous discarded water bottles on your bedside.

Even your wildest imagination couldn't make this up.

“You're Hobie Brown.” You say in disbelief, voice just above a whisper.

“Yeah, I figured you know me based on all of these…” he roams his eyes on your walls and table. “...posters and stickers. What am I over here? A rockstar or somethin’? Since you know my name.”

“You're Hobie motherfucking Brown!” You screech, suddenly jumping off the bed, looking like someone just told you Santa isn't real.

“That I am.” Said man has the audacity to smirk at you. And you swear you would have fainted again. “You a big fan?”

“I love you.” Your voice merely a murmur but he for sure heard it as the eyes of his mask widened for a brief second.

“I think it's time for us to chat, yeah, love?”

“L-love? Fucking…” voice wavering, you drop once again, but this time he catches you perfectly without the motion sickness from traveling to one dimension after another.

Hobie chuckles, eyes staring at your sleeping face, mouth still agape from the surprise and skin hot under his gloves. “Never thought someone could faint twice in one day.”

—

There's a glass of cold water in your hands, legs nervously bouncing under the blanket. He sits at the foot of your bed, giving you enough space so as to not make you uncomfortable in your own home, and to also not make you pass out (again) from the close proximity. His iconic boots are discarded, vest folded next to him, and mask in his pocket. You almost fainted again when he took it off.

“So, this Miles from earth–1610 is gonna get chased by Miguel and the entire society because he doesn't want his canon event to happen?” You nod as he recalls your story. Not a story anymore as this Hobie hasn't experienced it yet. Of course you didn't tell him the entire plot, just in case it rips a hole in the space time continuum. “And a few people are gonna need a watch?”

You sniffle, skin so warm that you think you're boiling the water in your hands.

“Hmm, that checks out. Good thing I started making these watches then eh, love?” His mischievous smile makes your stomach do flips, you're sure he's doing it intentionally.

Pinching yourself under the covers, chugging down the cool water, you muster up enough courage to actually speak coherent words.

“H-how’d you get here?”

“Fucked up my coordinates, I think. I'm pretty sure I'm not in Kansas anymore.” Hobie chuckles at his own joke before switching his attention to your wide eyed self. “Wizard of oz, you do have that here, right?”

“Y-yes,” you say meekly, drowning in his blue? Grey? Or brown eyes? You have no idea as his borders and colors change every minute or so. Nevertheless, you're absolutely done for. You guess this is what it feels like to meet your favourite celebrity, or in this case, favourite character. “Reverse isekai.” You whisper, nerding out at the possibilities.

“A what?” He says in his accent and you tamp down the feeling of wanting to say it back jokingly.

You clear your throat, “nothing.”

Nodding, he inhales, eyes darting around your fangirl room full of fandom merch and of course spiderverse merch. He zeroes in on the body pillow peeking under the blanket. You immediately lift the covers up to hide it, accidentally spilling water all over yourself and the bed. *Great, very smooth, you thought.

His eyes are soft and full of endearment whilst he watches you frantically and desperately dry yourself off.

You hope that he doesn't tease, but you know him, know his character, so you anticipate what happens next.

“What was that then?” He pats your foot, head tilting to look at you. You feel your head swirl again, and you swear the water spilled all over you evaporates from the sheer heat from your skin.

“N-nothing, Hobie.” You sink into the mattress.

“Right,” He unfolds his vest, putting it back on. “It's been great, but I gotta go.”

“Oh,” you blink, “do you want me to take out the posters? I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

He shakes his head with a smile. “Nah, not uncomfortable, I've been in worse dimensions. This ain't that bad really.”

“They're bootlegs if that makes it more okay.”

Hobie laughs and you practically melt from the sound.

“Bootleg, huh? That's a great name, project bootleg it is.” His smile blinds you for a second. You feel like you've ascended to heaven. “I have a tight schedule, being Spider-Man and all, but maybe I can visit again to get some insider knowledge of the future. Eh, Oracle?”

“S-sure,” you choke on the singular word. “It's a date— wait– no, I meant—”

Hobie chuckles, hands on his hips, bouncing on the balls of his boot clad feet, and border turning bright pink. For some reason, in all your clumsy and goofy self, you just made *the Spider-Man sheepish. Not just any Spider-Man, Hobie Brown, your absolute favourite out of all the thousands of Spider-people in the entire multiverse.

“It's a date then, no fainting next time yeah? I'll still catch you anyway, but it wouldn't be that fun if you're sleeping through it.”

“Okay.” You manage to say, heart loudly beating in your chest when his art style changes into love poems etched into his design.

He jumps inside the portal to hide the poems, winking at you before his body disappears into the void.

As the portal closes, you pass out once again, with a lopsided smile this time.

[violetarks]

visitor

show: alice in borderland

character: chishiya shuntaro

summary: you visit your idiot brother at the while he's injured and in the process, meet someone new. you caught his eye and now you have another reason to visit so often.

warnings: g/n! reader, they/them pronouns used, spoilers for season 2 episode 8

"you're so dumb!" you call as you walk into the room, a doctor flailing behind you in worry. but you only focus your eyes on your brother, who lays in the bed fully, glancing back with you. an annoyed sigh leaves his lips before he closes his eyes. "i told you i'd pick you up! and then i get a call saying you were already there? and you were in an accident!"

niragi knew you'd be the first to come. the only, actually. but he could never deal with your shouting, especially not when it happened so frequently. it's been a day since the accident, and he has finally woken up.

you put your bag on the floor against the bedside table. "you could stand to listen to me at least once! this is why you're always getting hurt and i'm always the one checking up on you."

you made it sound like a hassle, but the both of you know that no matter what, you would stick by. you made a promise to yourself to make your brother a better person, and niragi vowed to protect you from the bullies in life. you needed each other.

"yeah, yeah, i got it. god, you're so fucking loud." he grumbles back to you, "can't you see i'm in pain?"

you hold your angry gaze before a bit of sadness falls in. you stand at his side, pressing a gentle hand to the bandages on his arm. "you look like shit, suguru." you mutter out under your breath, "the hell were you doing there so early? we were supposed to meet at 2!"

"i got tired of waiting! i was calling you to tell you to hurry the fuck up!" he exclaimed, making you drop your jaw, "how about you answer your phone next time, huh?"

you retract your hand, pointing an accusing finger at your brother. "i told you, moron, i was in a meeting! 2 was the earliest i can do!"

"ah, please... there are other patients in this room..." the doctor says, waving his hand to dismiss the situation, "we don't want to cause a ruckus..."

you look back to the doctor. "sorry, i forgot..." you say in a quieter tone. your eyes gaze upon the two other occupants in the room, both staring right back at you in frozen shock. you give a little bow. "i apologise, i just needed to talk to this... dumbass... but i promise, no more yelling."

"thank fuck."

"suguru."

"it's alright." the furthest one, in the corner near the window, says to you. he has a bandage on his cheek, and grins to you softly.

the one beside your brother, notably taking his eyes off of you and on your brother. "don't worry about it. this guy your boyfrend or something?"

"oh, hell no." you laugh, the doctor then leaving the room, deeming it safe, "he's my older brother."

suguru glares back at the man beside him. "are you stupid?"

in response, he raises his brow at the stranger's words. you widen your eyes and slap your brother's shoulder. "shut up, suguru!" you scoff, turning back to the strangers, "sorry about him, he can't read social cues... my name is y/n."

the black-haired man in the back sits up, throwing his legs off the side of the bed. "i'm arisu. it's nice to meet you." he says.

the blonde speaks up, "chishiya. it's a pleasure."

arisu stands up, holding his back a bit. "i'm going to go get a drink." he states, leaving the room.

chishiya keeps his eye on you. you were obviously so caring of your brother that you would berate him this much. but your tone conveyed an annoyed feeling. your face showed that you were stressed, but relief had washed over you when you realised he was as good as he could be.

"there's a chair here, stop standing there." suguru tells you, nodding to the space in between him and chishiya at the ends of their beds. you walk around, taking the spot, ignoring his ignorant voice.

"the doctors said they wanted to run you through a couple more tests." you say, your voice sounding softer now as you stare at your brother, "they're going to come in soon."

"more tests? fuck, they won't let me go." suguru grumbles, leaning his head back against the pillow. he hated the stares people gave him because of all the bandages on his face. he hated being small in their eyes. "whatever... you staying? or heading out after i leave?"

you think for a moment, tapping your knee, before you respond, "i'll stay. i want to talk to you some more before i leave."

as if on time, the doctor from earlier comes in, holding a clipboard with quite a few papers on it. "mr niragi, we've set up the rooms for testing." he claims, looking at the both of you, "although, there are many. this would take at least an hour."

suguru looks back at you as nurses come in, ready to transport him to the first test. "you still gonna' stay? you'll be lonely, like a loser." you give him a look.

"they won't be lonely." chishiya speaks up, leaning comfortably against the bed. he smiles at your brother, with some teasing hint behind it. "i'll keep them company."

"i already hate you." suguru claims, beginning to move out of the room while he hears your chuckle at chishiya's claim. soon enough, he's gone and the door is closed. just you and chishiya.

you rub the back of your neck with a big sigh, "he's going to be the death of me... i can't help but worry for that guy."

chishiya sits up, leaning away from the bed's support. "he does seem to be a bit of a handful." he says in response, "you have it all together for the both of you, hm?"

you shrug your shoulders, staring back at the guy. it was strange, he didn't look to be injured. "so what happened to you? if you don't mind me asking."

chishiya smiles, placing a hand over his stomach first. "impaled. twice, what are the chances?" he says, "missed any vital organs, so that's a plus."

"you sound weirdly fine with being impaled twice." you say, smiling awkwardly. chishiya shrugs. he grins back at you softly, and you can't help but stare for a few more seconds. he sure was pretty. "so... job?"

"is this a first date?" he raises his brow.

"i would hardly call this place suitable for a first date." you joke, shaking your head, "maybe when you're out of here."

chishiya stops, his brows lifting a little more and his lips parting. you were confident, he could give you that, it was obvious that you and suguru were related. the way you smile at his silence makes his chest squeeze, and he sits up straighter under your heavy gaze.

"i should be released in the next few weeks." chishiya states, tilting his head at you, "and to answer your question, i'm a medical student."

"smart." you say, impressed. chishiya nods his head, asking about your job. "i'm a part of a publishing firm."

"creative." he compliments.

the both of you talk for the hours that your brother is busy doing tests. usually, chishiya wouldn't spend all this time just speaking to a stranger. but you were kind and didn't make him feel uncomfortable in silences. you would fill them with questions or simply just explaining things about you and your brother. chishiya was glad you weren't the nervous type.

you began to come over more in your spare time, dropping off supplies for your brother and talking to him for a while with chishiya in the background listening. sometimes, suguru would be out on his walk or in physical therapy (without telling you so you couldn't follow) and you'd be in the hospital room waiting for his return. but it was okay, chishiya was always there to keep you company. he'd tell you all the things that the doctor's were saying about your brother, what it meant, and most importantly, his progress.

you learnt from what he told you that your brother would be sent home after a month. relief washed over you and you thanked him. chishiya was more than happy to help, especially seeing how glad that made you.

"do you know when you'll be released?" you questioned that same day he informed you of suguru's last day.

chishiya, who sits across from you in the open hospital yard at a coffee table, watches as you stir your drink. it was his idea to leave the room today and get some coffee or tea, feeling stuffy in that room (and quite lonely since his only friend arisu was occupied by some girl he heard named usagi) and you just happened to drop by as he was getting ready to leave, your brother out of sight. so he asked you to come along, enjoying your smile as you accept.

"itching for that first date?" he mutters to you, leaning back in his spot.

you chuckle, "that wasn't the point. you know, after suguru comes home, i won't have a proper reason to visit the hospital anymore. they only allowed family to come see the patients, with how many there are."

you made a good point there. chishiya doesn't think he's seen anybody other than you or arisu's father or brother come around to visit them. and judging by niragi's personality, he was surely stringing some girls behind, no?

"so, yeah, we can go out on a date when you're released. or we can just continue talking casually." you offer him, holding your drink, "i don't mind."

chishiya raises a brow. he's a bit suspicious. why would you be so willing to spend time around him? some sort of game? he hums, "you don't mind? really?"

you shrug your shoulders as you sip from your cup. when you place it down on the table, chishiya eagerly awaits your response. "i really don't. you know, i like spending time with you, chishiya."

he's only known you for a good two weeks. is that long enough to develop feelings?

he's heard stories from people he worked with and around. proposing on their anniversary, chasing them to the airport before they board, dating since they were fifteen. he's even heard of some couples who move in together mere months after dating. he used to think it was all too fast.

but was it okay for someone to fall in love that quickly?

he decides to test the waters, overturning his hand so his palm is presented to the person in front of him. "i like spending time with you too, y/n."

you reply with a simple grin, resting a gentle hand in his. "that's great. then we can hang out more once you're out of here."

"i'll be released next week. thursday, 9 in the morning." he states, confident that your hand was the only thing keeping him warm in the spring weather. you blink at him, making chishiya nervously tilt his head with a grin. "too soon for you?"

you shake your own head and say, "no, it's not that, it's just that you made it sound like i'd have to wait another fortnight for you to be out of the hospital." you squeeze his hand ever so gently. "i'll spare some time."

"did you want to get breakfast with me?" he asks, nearly too fast for his liking.

you mumble, "what day?"

"thursday." chishiya is confident he is coming off too strong. but who was around to tell him off?

you laugh in response, "now it sounds like you're the one who can't wait." he wants to crumble into the ground. "but sure, i can do thursday. have a spot in mind?"

a loud huff interrupts the both of you. suguru, in crutches, lands in the chair beside you as soon as chishiya goes to answer. he's almost like a bad luck charm. your brother is breathing heavily, leaning his crutches against the table as he lets out a hefty sigh.

"god fucking damn it, i hate these things." he tells you, throwing his head back. the nurse helping him before standing a few feet away to give you privacy, but it was obvious that they were trying to get your brother back to his room. "remind me to never break my leg ever again. this fuckin' sucks."

"i would think so." you murmur to him.

that's when his eyes suddenly go down to your hand, linked with chishiya's on the table. and now, he's confused.

"what the fuck is this?" he questions, furrowed brows. he stared stupidly at you two as you noticed your hands and pull away at the same time. his gaze turns to chishiya first. "you gotta' be messing with me. no way you fell for this smart-ass, y/n."

chishiya places a hand over his heart. "you wound me, niragi." he sarcastically says, finishing off his drink as he stands up, "i'll let the two of you talk. if you need me, i'll be in the room."

he doesn't get very far before you call his name again. chishiya turns around, watching you scribbling something on the spare napkin you brought took you with the pen the nurse so kindly provided. he can already guess what it is, and now he's even more sure this isn't real. nobody would actually write their phone number on a napkin, right?

"feel free to text or call me whenever." you say, handing it to him. and sure enough, it's the digits to your cell. accompanied by your name and a smiley face, as if he was one to received many numbers from pretty strangers such as yourself. "i'll see you before i leave."

chishiya pockets the napkin securely in his pocket, holding his hand there for safe keeping. "i'll keep an eye out. see you, y/n."

"bye, chishiya." you respond, watching as he walks back towards the main building.

suguru is going to throw up, is what chishiya hears him say. you two speak loudly that he can still catch what you are talking about.

"why him of all people? i woulda' accepted even arisu over that guy." suguru scowls, making you roll your eyes.

you mumble back, shaking your head, "don't be mean, you barely talk to him."

"that's a fucking lie, he belittles me when you're not around." he points out, glaring holes in the back of chishiya's head. he can feel them.

"well then, soon you'll only have to see him when i'm around." you claim, holding your chin in your hand as you smile to yourself, "so no problem."

suguru gets one look at you and sees that you're being dead serious. he groans, eyes up to the sky, "what do you see in a guy like him?"

you trace the rim of your mug. "i like him a lot. he's smart."

chishiya is out of earshot as soon as that's said, and he's almost glad. he doesn't want to walk around the hospital with some dumb smile on his face.

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | April 1st-7th 2024

MERRY WEEWOO EPISODE DAY!!! I had a fucking terrible stream so I feel like I missed like 90% of buddie's scenes.

No thoughts, head empty, so happy to FINALLY be done with this long ass recap 😆 my ao3 history is very much still fucked. Oh well. Also gonna have to make a separate post for the podfics cause the rec was getting too long, tumblr couldn't handle it 😂

There's a couple of new people in here and maybe some people who have changed URLs, so if you know someone who's not tagged, please tag them in the comments!

Love your tags, comments, reblogs, everything! <3 My ao3 inbox is being SUBMERGED with fics, it's the best problem to have 😂

Complete

I can finally breathe by wikiangela/ @wikiangela (S7E4 Coda, BuckTommy | <1K | General); Buck's oh moment when Tommy kisses him.

and with each one, i'm a little more free series by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (Post-S7E4, Coming Out):

oh, bi the way (<1K | General): Buck comes out to Maddie. whenever you're ready (<1K | General): Buck comes out to Bobby. welcome to the club (<1K | General): Buck comes out to Hen.

rebirth by renecdote/ @renecdote (S7E4 Coda | <1K | General): “Bisexual,” he says aloud, just to hear himself say it, to taste the way it feels on his tongue not just as a word but as an identity. It feels like an exhalation, trembling at the edges but not just with fear, or excitement, but with relief. Buck knows what it is like to be reborn, but he has never had a kiss make him feel like this before.

whenever you're ready by honestlydarkprincess (Post S7E4 Spec, Coming Out | <1K | General): Buck comes out to Bobby.

I won't tell no lie by lamardeuse/ @lamardeuse (Post S7E4 Spec, Tommy POV | 1K | Teen): Tommy can't exactly say he's surprised when he opens his door on a Sunday morning to see Hen Wilson standing there. He just wishes he'd thought to put on a cup first because he has a feeling he's about to get kicked in the nuts.

An End Has a Start by eirabach/ @eirabach (S7E4 Coda, Tommy POV, Tommy&Lucy | 1K | Teen): Tommy is one minute late. Hell of a minute, though.

tell me that i'm all you want (even when i break your heart) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (S7E4 Coda | 1K | General): “What’s going on?” “You tell me,” Eddie says, gently. “Buck mentioned you were being a little…odd.” To his surprise, Chris scowls. “I bet he did,” Chris mumbles, scoffing, half-under his breath. Eddie stares at him, taken aback. “Chris? What does that—” “I want you to tell him to leave.” or; buck, christopher and eddie in the aftermath of 7x04.

Sleepy Call by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Pre-Buddie, Fluff | 1K | General): OR: Eddie takes an early morning call.

to loosen his grip by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (S7E4 Spec | 1K | Teen): Eddie's not stupid, and Buck's about as subtle as a brick to the face on a good day. Speculation for 7x04: Buck, Bothered and Bewildered.

babbling brook to nowhere by fallingthorns/ @fallingthorns (S7E5 Spec | 1K | Teen): Eddie has not stopped talking since they left the restaurant. He thinks that he kind of blacked out during the actual dinner, because he’s not really sure what actually was discussed or how they even ended up sitting next to Buck and Tommy. But as soon as they got back into the truck, it was like the dam breaking loose. “I mean, it’s so great,” Eddie says once they’re back in his bedroom, as he takes his shirt off in the closet. He’s not even paying attention as Marisol perches on the edge of his bed. “They’re two of my friends, it’s awesome.” He’s happy for Buck, because Buck deserves to be with someone who gets him and will love him like he deserves. He just . . . “Is Tommy too tall for him?” Eddie asks. “Like, they’re the same height.”

my heart is working overtime by lecornergirl/ @clusterbuck (S7E4 Coda | 1K | Teen): He reaches for his phone again, then freezes halfway through his contacts when he realises he can’t call anyone to talk through this. Maddie would kill him for telling her something like this over the phone. For—coming out, he supposes, trying the words on for size. That’s something he does now. As— He hadn’t really stopped to consider it until now. Bisexual, he thinks, experimental, and it settles somewhere deep inside of him, like there’s been a space waiting for it all along.

“Pops, I’m bisexual.” “Hi bisexual, I’m Pops.” by Maximoff_Wanda (Post-S7E4, Coming Out | 1,4K | Not Rated): Or: Buck comes out to Bobby.

every little thing the sun shows, well it’s worth it by wafflesofdoom/ @capseycartwright (Post S7E4 | 1,6K | Not Rated): after his kiss with Tommy, Buck goes to Hen.

pythagoras made some points by crimsonclad (S7E4, BuckTommy | 1,6K | Not Rated): Look for the helpers! Sometimes they are all trying very hard to help each other be gay in the correct configurations and doing their best, mostly. Tommy takes Eddie to Urgent Care, takes him home, and carries a message elsewhere in the city of Los Angeles.

Buck's Boyfriends by Tizniz (Buck/Tommy/Eddie | 1,7K | Teen): He’s too drunk to figure out the logistics right now. “I think I’ve been dating both of you.” OR: The one where Buck realizes he's dating Tommy and Eddie.

smile at me like you smile at him by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (S7E4 Spec, Getting Together | 1,8K | Teen): Buck hadn’t planned on doing anything to show his displeasure at the sudden friendship between Eddie and Tommy, despite the fact that it sent hot, furious jealousy coursing through his veins. Really, he hadn’t. It’s just…well, he was just going for the ball during their basketball game…unfortunately Eddie happened to get pushed out of the way in order for Buck to get said ball.

only need the light when it's burning low by fallingthorns (Post-S7E4 | 2K | Teen): Buck blinks and realizes that he could love Tommy, if he didn't already love Eddie.

you've ruined my life (by not being mine) by ummrys (S7E4 Spec | 2K | Teen): Or, Buck gets a little (a lot) jealous of Eddie's blossoming friendship with Tommy Kinard, and makes some bad decisions about it.

detours by oklahoma/ @sunshinediaz (Post-S7E4, 2K | Teen): “Take a detour,” he says, instead. “There’s construction on Sunset.” “Maybe one of these days there won’t be,” Buck says, smiles, and takes his leave. - Eddie and Buck have a talk. They somehow say everything and nothing at all.

Every Night I Come to You by giselleslash/ @gigi-gigi (S5, Love Confessions | 2K | General): Eddie has another sleepless night, but Buck is there. He'll always be there.

Family Feud: First Responders by Princessfbi/ @princessfbi (Secret Relationship | 3K | General): The FireFam go on Family Feud.

Right In Front of Me by Princessfbi (S7E5 Spec, BuckTommy | 3K | General): Tommy’s brows knitted together as his mouth turned down with worry. “Evan,” he said and Buck wanted to hear him call his name so many more times. “What happened? Did someone choke you?” “That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Buck said, clearing his throat again when his voice gave an embarrassing squeak.

inescapable (i’m not even gonna try) by buddiebuddie/ @buddie-buddie (BuckTommy, PWP, Post-S7E4 | 3K | Explicit): From that first press of Tommy’s lips against his— the moment when the pieces slid into place and something bloomed in Buck’s chest and hummed in his veins— he felt good, and grounded, and settled in a way he never had before. It’s been a few weeks, and the newness has worn off but the excitement hasn’t. The hunger hasn’t.

I would be lying if I said I'm not dying to worship you by Daughter_of_Scotland (Post-S7E4 | 3K | Explicit): Buck and Tommy have their first date. This is how it ends. (It ends really, REALLY well)

somethin' tells me you know why i lie by lecornergirl/ @clusterbuck (Madney Wedding Spec, BuckTommy | 3K | Teen): OR: buck brings tommy to the madney wedding. eddie is absolutely, definitively not jealous.

Never Saw It Coming...Or Did He? by Tizniz (PWP, Daddy/Mommy Kink | 3K | Explicit): Unable to deny his boyfriend anything, Eddie does. And his jaw promptly falls to the floor. Because Buck is standing there with that goddamn basketball under his shirt again. The clothing is stretched tightly over the round of what Eddie’s mind pretends is Buck’s belly. Pregnant belly. OR: The one where Eddie is 'Daddy' and Buck is 'Mommy'

sunbeam that hits at three to noon by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Madney Wedding, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): or, having multiple wedding reservations under the same name was an accident waiting to happen and buck’s just trying not to jumpscare his best friend with the rather intense bridal suite decor in their very platonically shared hotel room

as lucky as us by hammersmiths/ @bucktommys (S7E4, Ravi POV | 3K | General): One of the first things Ravi learned when joining the 118 was to, under no circumstances, think too hard about Buck and Eddie’s relationship. But brother, they could try make his job easier.

soothe the ache in me by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (S7E4 Spec | 3K | Teen): Or, the one where Buck gets a headache while trying to take care of Eddie and Chris after Eddie's injury.

i'm a fine baby mama (but you knew that though) by colonoscopys (S7E4 | 4K | Teen): Look—Buck’s not jealous, per say. He’s just a little confused as to how you can spend the past five years being best friends with someone, and then find someone new to replace him in the span of a couple of playdates.

You’re too Sweet For Me by Garden_Haunter (Buck Coming Out, Post S7E4 | 4K | Teen): Tommy kisses Buck, and it tastes like freedom. (Or: Buck comes out to different members of his family.)

Nightcap by Inell (S7E5 Spec, PWP | 4K | Explicit): After their first date goes a bit astray, Buck invites Tommy to his loft for a nightcap. 

some things fall when they're meant to fall by sibylsleaves/ @sibylsleaves (S7E5 Spec | 4K | Teen): or, Buck tells Eddie some news. Eddie has a realization and breaks up with his girlfriend. Not necessarily in that order.

before you painted all my nights by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Canon Divergent, Getting Together | 5K | Explicit): In hindsight, maybe jerking off to a LAFD Calendar when Eddie was well on his way to become a firefighter himself… might not have been the best idea. He never really thought about the possibility of actually crossing paths with the person that's been starring every wildest dream and filthy fantasy of his.

’til storm breaks loose by markofalover/ @markofalover (S7E4 Spec | 6K | Explicit): He squeezes Buck’s bare, sun warmed skin before he drops the contact, and strolls over to where Chim and Tommy are waiting. If he stands a little too close to his teammate, well. He’ll never admit it. Buck comes back into his line of vision, already back to looking like he’s a second away from stomping off the court. Eddie’s giddy with it. …or, how an elbow to the face changes everything.

the art of making love. by dylaesthetics (Rommates, Getting Together | 6K | Teen): OR Buck’s loft gets flooded, making him temporarily move in with Eddie, who’s out and about dating guys now, apparently, and Buck tries to figure out why the hell the thought makes him sick.

no more mistakes, no more empty starts. by dylaesthetics (S7E5 Spec, Feelings Realization | 7K | Teen): Throughout his life, Buck has felt that something’s been missing. Some integral part of who he is, outside firefighting, outside the family he has built for himself, outside the trauma that keeps on piling up and overburdening his shelves. He doesn’t expect to find it in the dimness of his loft’s kitchen one Tuesday evening, the taste of a man still on his lips and his cologne lingering in the air, sweet and honest and real.

ain't no lie (bi bi bi) by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (S7E4 Spec, Eddie/Tommy | 8K | Explicit): Eddie fools around with Tommy, Buck is jealous, Tommy's just trying to have a good time

skin/heat/hair in your mouth by fleetinghearts (Getting Together | 8K | Explicit): or, eddie’s bad at camping, buck’s trying to make sure he doesn’t get hypothermia, and naked huddling for warmth is only like the third gayest thing happening in the great outdoors

now our love lives in the radio by heartbeatdiaz / @loserdiaz (University AU | 9K | Explicit): buck is the host of a college radio show and eddie has a big fat crush on him, what else can i say? featuring cinderella references and a bunch of himbos from buck's football team. 

teach me how to dance with you by goodboybuck (prettyboybuckley)/ @prettyboybuckley (BuckTommy, PWP | 9K | Explicit): OR: Buck explores the wonders of gay sex (slowly, with a really patient, sweet Tommy guiding the way and while having a lot of fun)

the mouth is the thing that craves by Underhung_Aura (Established Buddie, PWP | 11K | Explicit): eddie loves buck and he really love buck's cock

when i think about you (i touch myself) by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (PWP, Getting Together | 12K | Explicit): Or: the one where Eddie stumbles across Buck's old amateur porn, prompting a series of belated realizations on both their parts.

honey, when you call my name by HungryHungryHippo/ @hippolotamus (Post S5E11 | 12K |Explicit): Eddie witnesses the Buck/Lucy kiss, has himself a little panic, and decides to do something about it when Buck does his Buck thing and won't stop pushing Eddie's buttons 

🔥 of men and of angels by extasiswings/ @extasiswings (Eddie Sexuality Crisis, Getting Together | 13K | Teen): Eddie Diaz learns a lot as a kid. Boys aren’t soft. Boys don’t cry. Boys don’t kiss boys. As he gets older, he realizes that everything has exceptions. Boys can be soft sometimes. Boys can cry sometimes. And some boys kiss other boys. But Eddie likes kissing girls. And since he likes kissing girls, that’s the end of the story. Isn’t it?

🔥 what humans do by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (Getting Together, PWP | 18K | Explicit): "…and the thought that she had just escaped death by such a narrow margin made me realize the intensity of my feelings toward her.” Eddie swallows. “‘What’s the matter?’ I couldn’t tell her, so I kissed her instead,” Buck goes on, and since Eddie’s eyes are focused on the page, they drift ahead a little bit, and the next few lines have him swallowing once again, taking his hand back to brace himself against the mattress as he slowly starts to push himself up to sit. “Kissing is what humans do when words have reached a place they can’t escape from. It is a switch to another language. The kiss was an act of defiance, maybe of war. You can’t touch us, is what the kiss said. ‘I love you,’ I told her, and as I smelled her skin, I knew I had never wanted anyone or anything more than I wanted her…” Buck trails off when Eddie reaches for the book, gently luring it out of his grasp. 

WIP

🔥 Any Other Way by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, S2 | 6/18 | 37K | Mature): In a switcheroo alternate universe, Buck spends young adulthood in the military, while Eddie, who has no idea Christopher exists, spends his twenties messing around, finally enjoying freedom away from his family’s expectations. When they both end up in Los Angeles, at the 118, some things are different, and others will be the same in any universe.

Both Bermuda and Golden (Lost but Doing Just Fine) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (PWP, Threesome, BuckTommyEddie | 4/6 | 20K | Explicit): In which everyone has two hands and two holes and is keeping their options fluid. (Or: a collection of threesome fics.)

Fifteen First Kisses by tinygiantsam/ @watchyourbuck (Getting Together | 2/15 | 3K | Mature): Why would you have only one first kiss when you could have fifteen This is a collection of 15 different first kisses between Buck and Eddie.

[samglyph]

Good morning. Season 4 finale.

Holy smokes gang. What an episode. I absolutely loved it. I think it took a little bit for me to become really invested despite the in medias res thing we had going on, but once that action started I was in it. The visuals this episode were great, I especially liked the description of the mollusk mask on the viziers face. I also was quite pleased about the little reference to hastur being the peacock king that’s fun.

I know a lot of people are sad about the butcher. I am not because as soon as he showed up again I figured he would be one of the casualties of the episode, and narratively I like that it was Kayne who did it as opposed to Larson or an unnamed cultist or alien, especially considering I had a theory that Kayne was connected to the music in his head and the powers he had. I did love the twist of him being on our side though I actually audibly reacted to that. It surprised me but made sense in the perfect way. It also makes perfect sense to not include that scene, but I am excited to see some of the fan work that comes out of that missing piece. I’m AMAZED that Charlie managed to make it out alive, but then again he might be bleeding out on a street in Spain right now. Oh well. No body no death so I’m counting him as still kicking.

Speaking of Charlie, I loved the scene where John was forced to come clean. I liked how it twisted the previous scene of Arthur speaking for John and John finally being heard by someone else and feeling so so happy, to now be forced into a position where that newfound relationship is potentially going to be destroyed because he no longer has the option of privacy. Wild.

Of all the scenes with yellow, predictably Arthur’s confrontation and apology was my favorite. He’d already admitted fault in a previous episode but this I think is where it really hit home. And in other lines, while Yellow remained adamant that he didn’t care, you could tell that he genuinely did want to understand the connection between Arthur and John, and wanted to understand why he couldn’t experience the same thing. Most tragic fragment of a nightmare king. I hope you have fun flaying Larson alive for the next couple thousand years. Also why was Larson so flirty this episode dude he killed your son stop whispering in his ear like that.

And then of course, we get to Kayne. Kayne Kayne Kayne Kayne. Glad we got confirmation that Kayne isn’t/it doesn’t matter if he’s nyarlthotep because while have a fondness for the crawling chaos and Call of Cthulhu mythos, I actually like when things are separate from that. Plus I think it makes him scarier if he can’t quantify his existence. Holding out his bloody hand for Arthur to take and Arthur choosing to go with him willingly obviously paralleling his denial of Larson earlier in the episode. I also liked his takedown of Larson a lot. Fuck that guy.

Anyway @everyone who questioned why I draw Kayne covered in blood in every scene even when he’s not fresh off a carcosan murder spree how does it feel to be wrong.