#while trying to still be fair to myself and what I can reasonably do

[wiishopchanelboots]

Been thinking about this quote from Mira Furlan's autobiography (For context, Mira Furlan was an actress, known by many as Delenn on Babylon 5, who fled Yugoslavia during the Yugoslav wars in the 90s and narrowly escaped to the U.S.) "Why does an emigrant continually make mental lists of those "special people" who helped him in times of distress? Why does this not occur so prominently in lives that are "normal," unbroken? Is it because the vulnerability of your situation puts you in a place where you suddenly NEED help? From your comfortable life, you're abruptly launched into a void where nothing and nobody awaits you. It's like being suddenly stripped naked in the midst of a crowd. It's like losing your voice in the middle of a theatre production. It's like everyone dear to you dropping dead at once and leaving you alone, surrounded only by foreign, indifferent faces. Sudden change from somebody to nobody sharpens your senses so that those rare good, compassionate people almost glow in the darkness of your new, bleak world. That's why the emigrant experience is so valuable in the end, despite all its hardship. It makes you see more clearly. It makes you recognize without a doubt the good people around you. And those have been and will always be very few, even in "normal" circumstances. The only difference is that now, in this new life of yours, you KNOW this with absolute certainty." . . . "In general, though, people in America would "help" by making one or two phone calls and disappearing from our lives if those phone calls didn't produce a result. In general, people were indifferent to our "situation." Americans prefer simple stories with clear separation between the "good guys" and the "bad guys." Where did "our story" fit? A new history was being created. Nationalism in Croatia was dismissed as a necessary by-product of Serbian aggression. We, the victims of the fascist tendencies of the "good guys," were just too complicated to even try to understand. Not only America, but the world needs simple stories. And to create those, truth is most often sacrificed." - Mira Furlan, Love Me More Than Anything In The World

[deeisace]

.

[sheyfu]

yappologist degree holder ༊*·˚

𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗥 𝗩𝗢𝗜𝗖𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦 about you.

feat. dan heng, aventurine, luocha, jing yuan, gepard, jiaoqiu, argenti and moze (gn!reader)

cw. ooc (very); jiaoqiu talks a lot; [slight] sexual innuendos

note. TRYING SOMETHING NEW GRAHHHHHH i dont think i captured their personalities correctly but 🙏🙏 WE BALL LAMSDOASDI i hope you guys enjoy it >:DD reader is identified as [name] and uses they/them prns (GANG I TRIED MY BEST LAMSDOAMSD) if you see me use fem prns in this piece please tell me <3 lmk if you'd like a pt. 2 w other chars (WOMEN ASHDUASHDUH)

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ DAN HENG

about [name] [name]? what about them?

chat: significant other  [name] is my significant other. aside from the express, they’re one of the only ones keeping me grounded whenever i become… “emo”. their words, not mine.

chat: sleep sleep is something i found hard to come by; everytime i closed my eyes, visions of my past appeared. but now that [name] is by my side, it has become easier to fall to a peaceful rest.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ AVENTURINE

about [name] through a game of life or death is how [name] and i met. hm? unconventional you say? well, it’s one of the reasons why i fell for them.

chat: bet betting has become an integral part of [name] and i’s life. while it’s not a common way of expressing your love for someone, it’s how we do things. whether those bets entail having to have the other run errands or even give your own life up, it sends spikes of adrenaline up our bones resulting in a very fun game of cat and mouse.

chat: loss there are seldom games i lose — and most of the time, i still somehow come out as, partially, a winner. but for some reason, whenever i offer a game of chance against [name], i seem to lose every game we have. i can’t lie, i get somewhat annoyed at how i can’t seem to win a game against them. but then again, life would be dull if it were just an unending series of wins.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ LUOCHA

about [name] [name] is a travelling merchant i’ve come to know over the past years of my journeys as one myself. if i didn't have anyone to rely on before, i've got my dearest to thank now. 

chat: bargain as a merchant, it is important for me to know how to bargain, especially when deals presented to me are severely unfair for me. i must admit, i wasn’t very good at striking fair deals when i was starting off my path as a travelling merchant. but over the years, [name] has taught me a lot about this art. by observing their ways of negotiating, i am now able to attain very fair and valuable trades. 

chat: aromatherapy with [name]’s upbringing as an herb specialist, i get to experience their family’s aromatherapy service. with every scent i am presented with, i am able to clear my mind and slip in the embrace of solitude and calm. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ JING YUAN

about [name] [name] is someone who can ease my troubled mind with an embrace; the calm in my storm, the light of my life, and the heart of my soul.

chat: birds when little birds flock to my head, my spouse wonders if im this character called… snow white… *sigh* i am not sure as to who that is due to my upbringing as a military leader — i had no time for these trivial tales. but whenever they tell tales about this... gizney? no.. bizney? not quite right either.. ah yes, disney princess, the intent of me being dressed with robes of royalty are reflected in their eyes.

chat: mimi what was once a kitten, has now grown into a ferocious little lion. i remember when i first got her, [name] was all over the poor thing — smothering it with their love and words of praise — mimi didn’t complain though, she let herself get spoiled. and even up until now, she’s still that same, little spoiled lion she is. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ GEPARD

about [name] [name] is my significant other – how i was able to catch their eye? i don’t know. sometimes, i doubt my ability to love, especially with my role as the captain of the silvermane guards. but whenever those thoughts appear in my mind, [name] is there to quell my uneasy mind.

chat: family the way [name] treats lynx makes me feel… funny. i can’t really describe it but my heart beats whenever they entertain my little sister. oh, and don’t even get me started with how serval treats them. *sigh* what should i do to ease this beating heart of mine?

chat: de-stress ways on how to de-stress? well, after a long day i am usually greeted with the embrace of my beloved once i step into our abode… then after that i’m littered with- o-oh.. apologies. i was supposed to give advice. let’s start over again, shall we?

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ JIAOQIU

about [name] [name]? you want to now about them? well you see, as general feixiao’s doctor, it is important for me to have assistants whenever patients visit the clinic in a time when i am tending to duties involving her – this is where my dear [name] comes in. they’ve been with me from the start; us being classmates in the medicinal school we attended and all that. they’re easily one of the very dearest people in my life. most people only know them as my assistant due to their preference of upholding a “low-profile”; of course, i am very much alright with it. but when time comes and they’re ready to reveal our bond to the world, i’ll be the happiest man in the whole entire cosmos.

chat: sweets  oh? you liked the sweets i gave you? well, you have my dear [name] to thank. they’re quite the connoisseur when it comes to making them. speaking of sweets, i forgot to mention we have a pastry shop in aurum alley. if you’re able to drop by, i’ll consider giving you a bundle of sweets, and probably other pastries, free of charge.

chat: coriander whatever you do, please do not hand me a bunch of coriander. i will absolutely lose my mind having to deal with a coriander-obsessed lover. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ARGENTI

about [name] my love for [name] transcends even the distant stars of the cosmos. my heart, my soul, and my own being belong to them. 

chat: roses roses are my beloved’s favourite flowers, as they are mine. every morning, i wake from my peaceful slumber to see my dear tending to the beds of flowers with a gentle smile on their face that makes me fall in love all over again. *sigh* i miss them so much, trailblazer.. please bring me back to my ship. i would like to sink into my lover’s embrace at this moment. 

chat: baking my beloved takes time to make my preference for thick baguettes each and every morning. while it warms me to receive such a valuable gift, i am not sure if i am deserving of their unconditional love for i am just a mere knight of beauty, idiotically searching for the goddess i’ve devoted myself to.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ MOZE

about [name] i am [name]’s lover. i am bound to them by fate and affection which is why you shouldn’t come close to them — unless you’d like to request an audience with the weapon in my hand.

chat: shadow [name] gets frightened whenever i appear randomly — jiaoqiu tells me it’s a normal reaction as he too, gets startled whenever i show my face to him. although.. im not quite sure how my sudden appearance has them stunned...

chat: cleaning [name] and i share the same hobby of cleaning. whenever i am relieved of my duties assigned by the general, i watch them- no. they tell me of the rather… unconventional ways of cleaning our abode.

tagging: @ayrastv, @whatisnerotypical, @lia-loves

🐈‍⬛: thank you for reading! reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!

if you'd like to be part of my taglist, please access the gform below! thank you and hope to see you <3

© sheyfu on tumblr

[thebibliosphere]

Ma'am/Sir/Other

So much of your blog is "Yaya another thing in my body broke (kill me)"

I'm not judging at all, cause I'm also dealing with that somewhat but,

In the most polite manner possible;

How the fuck do you manage to function without killing everyone around you in a bodily pain induced rage.

Body hurts too much.

But in all seriousness, therapy and a whole lot of radical acceptance.

I don't approve or like what’s happening to me, but realistically, there is no way to avoid it, so I either have to accept it and make changes to my life or reject it and increase my suffering.

It might take me a while to process this change and there might be a few screaming breakdowns in the interim (”it's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair!”) but after a long time of doing this type of therapy, I’ve gotten good at holding my own hand and holding myself through the despair.

It’s a bit like being my own gentle parent. Like “hey bud, I know this sucks and you’re feeling a lot of big emotions right now. And I’m not asking you to stop feeling them, but I do need you to eat and drink before you get sick, okay? Okay, you’ve had some water, do you want to try for a shower? No? Okay, let’s go back to bed for a bit. We’ll try later... Cry it out if you need to. I’ve got you.”

Probably sounds bonkers to some people but it's the only reason I’m still alive.

My support network is wonderful and they do so much to keep me going, but it wasn't until I allowed myself to feel my emotions and self soothe through them that things got better.

I can’t change what has been done to me. I can’t change the dynamic nature of my disabilities or the fact that parts of my body will continue to break down. But I can accept myself and say, this is the way things are: react accordingly for our continued survival.

Radical acceptance isn’t about approval or giving up. It's a stress tolerance skill that lets you look at some of the worst parts of your life and go “fuck this sucks. Okay, how do I make this suck less?” and then following through on it.

It's a skill that takes a long time to build. But it's well worth investing in.

[hotheadedhero]

*peeks in here*

*walks away to check if you do bayverse*

*return*

The bay bois getting an s/o who will occasionally will randomly be cuddling and then... *Affectionate bite* then letting go and telling them they love them.

AN: As an affectionate biter myself, I gotcha babes ;)

Affectionate Biting

Bay Turtles x Reader

Warnings: very mildly suggestive, an insomniac trying to grammar <3

Leonardo

The first time you oh-so casually bit him and smiled afterwards as if it was nothing had him going for a spin. Confused is the prominent word to describe how he was feeling at the time. The action was just so unprompted. He couldn't figure out why you felt the need to do something like that, nor how it could be seen as an act of love.

He's learnt over time that it's an unavoidable urge for you. There's nothing you can do about it. You just have to bite him for whatever reason you deem necessary. Leo is all too aware of this by now and may or may not use it to his advantage.

"For every hour we're out tonight, I'll give you a free bite. No questions asked, okay?"

These are terms you can comply with. He knows how much you miss him when he's gone, so setting up this ultimatum is an effective way of letting him go on patrol more easily.

Raphael

Being with you has involved its fair share of revelations and discoveries. There's at least a handful of things he's become savvy to whilst being with you but the random biting is one of the more bizarre ones.

Actions speak louder than words and they always mean the most to him but biting? What's up with that? Humans are weird. That's the conclusion he's come to. Even now in this very moment, you've taken a hold of his wrist whilst curled up in bed together.

"What are you, a cat or something? Quit it."

Of course, he's only joking. It's just so he can see your tongue poke out and your nose scrunch up in the cute way he likes. Even if he did seriously mean for you to stop, he doubts you would. You live by your own rules when it comes to these things. And, sure, you can bite him if you like. Just as long as you expect to get bitten back.

Donatello

It may catch him by surprise from time to time but only because you do it in the most random of situations. Whilst he's working away and you're sitting in his lap, you'll just latch onto the closest part of him you can access. He might jump if he's in the zone but it's never an issue.

Regardless of it being a problem or not, you've had your own curiosities about why you have such a primal impulse to chomp down on your boyfriend. Luckily, Donnie being as knowledgeable as ever has the answers.

"... the desire to pseudo-bite or squeeze anything we find extremely cute is actually a neurochemical reaction. 'Cute aggression' isn't motivated by vicious intent. Instead, scientists think-"

He halts on his words, blinks out of his matter-of-fact mode, and gazes down at you. All the while, you have his forearm locked between your teeth. Your attempt to smile coyly against his skin is adorable, and he smiles back before continuing his explanation.

Michelangelo

He won't ask any questions. In all honesty, he loves it. Although, there might have been a bit of a misunderstanding the first couple of times you went to take a nip at him. Let's just say he thought you were trying to get him in the mood. Can't blame a guy for assuming his lover is a little freaky in the sheets.

Having such a strong force overcome you is something he understands, though. It's like him when it comes to pulling a fast one over his brothers. You can bite him whenever you want to if that's what you feel you need to do. Even if you turned into a zombie, he'd still let you.

"And then we could be like, zombie lovers roaming the streets together."

Mikey holds his arms out, hands dangling as he playfully groans like the undead. You aren't entirely sure how the conversation developed like that but it's cute nonetheless. Hey, he's just being honest. He loves you that much.

[thegalleonsnest]

OK since I haven't seen too many people talk about this since twitter news usually strikes pretty fast over here whenever e'usk does anything ever, let me give ya'll the run down on two things that will go live on NOVEMBER 15TH and why people are mass migrating to Blue Sky once more; and provide resources to help protect your art and make the transition to Blue Sky easier if you so choose:

The Block function no longer blocks people as intended. It now basically acts as a glorified Mute button. Even when you block someone, they can still see your posts, but they can't engage in them. If your account is a Public one and not a Private one, people you blocked will see your posts.

They say because people can easily "share and hide harmful or private information about those they've blocked," they changed it this way for "greater transparency." When in reality, this is an extremely dangerous change, as the whole point of blocking is to cease interaction with people entirely for a plethora of reasons, i.e. stalking, harassment, spam, endangerment, or just plainly annoying and not wanting to see said tweets/accounts. or you know, for 18+ accounts who do not want minors interacting with them or their material at all (There is speculation saying these changes are specifically for Elon himself so he can do his own kind of stalking, and honestly, with the private likes change, it lowkey checks out in my opinion)

Also, this straight up goes against and may violate Apple and Google's app store policies and also is straight up illegal in Canada and probably other countries as well.

If this ACTUALLY goes through, twitter will only be available in select countries, probably exclusively in the US, which would collapse the site with the lost of users and stock, and probably be the last push it needs to kill the site. And if not, will be a very sad and exclusive platform made for specific kinds of people who line up with musk's line of thinking.

2. New policies regarding Grok AI and basically removing the option to opt out of Grok's information gathering to improve their software.

And anything you upload/post on the site is considered "fair game" with "royalty-free licenses" and they can do whatever they please with it. Primarily using any and all posts on twitter to train their Grok AI. A few months ago, there was a setting you can opt out of so they couldn't take anything you post to "improve" Grok, but I guess because so many people were opting out, they decided to make it mandatory as part of the policy change (This is mainly speculation from what I hear).

So this is considered the final straw for a LOT of people, especially artists who have been gripping on to twitter for as long as they can, but the AI nonsense is too much for people now, including myself. Lot's of people are moving to Blue Sky for good reason, and from personal experience, it is literally 10x better than twitter ever was, even before elon took over. There is no algorithm on there, and you can save "feeds" to your timeline to have a catered timelines to hop between if your looking for something specific like furry art or game dev stuff. It's taken them a bit to get off the ground and add much needed features, but it's genuinely so much better now

RESOURCES

Project Glaze & Cara

If you're an artist who's still on twitter or trying to ride it out for as long as you can for whatever reason you have, do yourself a favor and Glaze and/or Nightshade your work. Project Glaze is a free program designed to protect your art work from getting scrapped by AI machines. Glazing basically makes it harder to adapt and copy artwork that AI programs try to scan, while Nightshade basically "poisons" works to make AI libraries much more unstable and generate images completely off the mark. (These are layman's terms I'm using here, but follow the link to get more information)

The only problem with these programs is that they can be resource intensive for computers, and not every pc can run glaze. It's basically like rendering a frame/animation, you gotta let your pc sit there to get it glazed/nightshade, and depending on the intensity and power of your pc, this may take minutes to hours depending on how much you wanna protect your work.

HOWEVER, there are two alternatives, WebGlaze and Cara

WebGlaze is an in browser version of the program, so your pc doesn't have to do the heavy lifting. You do need to have an account with Glaze and be invited to use the program (I have not done so personally so I don't know much about the process.)

Cara is an artist focused site that doubles as both a portfolio site and a general social media platform. They've partnered with Glaze and have their own browser glazing called "Cara Glaze," and highly encourage users to post their work Glazed and are extremely anti-ai. You do get limited uses per day to glaze your work, so if you plan on doing a huge backlog uploading of your art, it may take awhile if your using just Cara Glaze.

Some twitter users have suggested glazing your art, cropping it, and overlaying it with a frame telling people to follow them elsewhere like on Bluesky. Here's a template someone provided if you wanna use this one or make your own.

Blue Sky Resources and Tips

So if your a twitter user and your about to realize the hellish task of refollowing a massive chunk of people you follow, have no fear, there's an extension called Sky Follower Bridge (Firefox & Chrome links). This is a very basic extension that makes it really easy to find people on Bluesky

It sorts them out by trying to find matching usernames, usernames in descriptions, or by screen name. It's not 100% perfect, there's a couple people I already follow on Blue Sky but the extension could not find them on twitter correctly, but I still found a huge chunk of people. Also if your worried that this extension is "iffy," they do have a github open with the source publicly available and the Blue Sky Team themselves have promoted the extension in their recent posts while welcoming new users to the platform.

FEEDS and LABELS

OK SO THE COOLEST PART ABOUT BLUESKY IS THE FEEDS SYSTEM. Basically if you've made a twitter list before, it's like that, but way more customizable and caters to specific types of posts/topics. Consolidating them into a timeline/feed that exclusively filled about those particular topics, or just people in general. There's thousands to pick and choose from!

Here's a couple of mine that I have saved and ready (down below). Some feeds I have saved so I can jump to seeing what my friends and mutuals are up to, and see their posts specifically so it doesn't get lost in reposts or other accounts, and also specialized feeds for browsing artists within the furry community.

The Furry Community feeds I have here were created by people who've built an algorithm to place any #furry or #furryart or other special tags like #Furrystreamer or #furrydev. They even have one for commissions, and yes you can say commissions on a post and not have it destroyed or shadow banned. You are safe.

If you want, and I highly recommend it to get visibility and check out a neat community, follow furryli.st to get added to their list and feeds. Once your on the list, even without a hashtag, you'll still pop up in their specialized feeds as just a member of the community there. There are plenty of other feeds out there besides this one, but I feel like a lot of people could use one like this. They even got ones for OC specific too I remember seeing somewhere.

And in terms of labels, they can be either ways to help label yourself with specific things or have user created accessibility settings to help better control your experience on Blue Sky.

And my personal favorite: Ai Imagery Labeler. Removes any AI stuff or hides it to the best of it's abilities, and it does a pretty good job, I have not seen anything AI related since subscribing to it.

Finally, HASHTAGS WORK & No need to censor yourself!

This is NOT like twitter or any other big named social media site AT ALL, so you don't have to work around words to get your stuff out there and be seen. There are literally feeds built around having commissions getting and art seen! Some people worry about bots and that has been a recent issue since a lot of people are migrating to Blue Sky, but it comes with any social media territory.

ALSO COOL PART,

you can search a hashtag on someone's profile and search exclusively on that profile as well! You can even put the hashtag in bio for easy access if you have a specialize tag like here on tumblr. OR EVEN BUILD YOUR OWN ART FEED FOR YOUR STUFF SPECIFICALLY!

So yeah, there's your quick run down about twitter's current burning building, how to protect your art, and what to do when you move to Blue Sky! Have fun!

[puck-luck]

Can you do Jack Hughes clubs and 12

warnings: LOTS of over the clothes stuff, bj, dry humping, comparison of sexual desires to intrusive thoughts (because i could think of no other comparison and that's how it felt to come up with this idea: specifically reader... starts to fuck herself on jack's tip while his boxers are still on), praise, sub!frat!jack, result of a bet, ongoing unlabeled relationship core

wc: 1,146

The bet goes like this: “Whoever gets a better grade on the final gets to handcuff the loser to the bed and do whatever they want (within reason).”

A stakes were completely fair. You and Jack had studied together, you’d gone over every bit of homework together, you’d done almost every project together– except for the one that had made Jack all jealous and finally admit that he wanted to hook up exclusively. Since you had prepared for the exam together, everything was left up to fate. Whoever got the better grade truly deserved it.

You’d opened your computers together to check grades when one of your other friends in the class texted and said they were in. Jack had looked at his grade and grinned, feeling confident. Little did he know, you felt more confident. 

“90,” Jack said.

You smiled wide and leaned in close. “93.”

That’s how you got here. That’s how Jack ended up handcuffed on his own bed, clad only in his loose boxers, which do nothing to hide how hard you’ve rendered him. 

You’re leaving open-mouthed kisses on his clothed cock, determined to make the front of his boxers entirely wet before you free him and get his dick inside of you. You want to tease him, dangling his favorite things right in front of him– his favorite things being your mouth and your cunt. It’s just an additional shame that Jack’s hands are tied, so he can’t touch your tits.

You’re on stage one, licking his member and getting spit all over him. Jack’s moaning whenever you suck the skin of his shaft, the vibrations from your mouth traveling through his clothes and causing them to rub against his skin. 

You get Jack whining before you move onto stage two.

“So desperate, baby,” you tease as you unclasp your bra and free your tits. You hook your fingers in the band of your panties and push them down. “Does it turn you on? To be tied up like this? To be the boy that I fuck to get myself off?”

Jack’s eyes are dark, tracing your every move. 

You prompt him again. “Does it?”

He starts to nod. “Yeah,” he says. His eyes dart across your features and across the expanse of your, now naked, body. “So much. I want you so bad.”

A grin creeps across your face. “Good boy,” you praise lowly, crawling up Jack’s body and giving him a kiss before you sit back on his hard-on. Those two words have made their way into your everyday vernacular ever since Jack needed comforting that one day not too long ago– you never want him to forget how good he is. 

Once you make contact with his member, Jack pushes his hips up. He grinds his cock against you by accident, his tip brushing against your wet hole and making you jolt. 

“Behave,” you scold, placing your palm flat on his stomach and narrowing your eyes at him. “This is about what I want to do, Jack.”

“Sorry,” he apologizes. His bottom lip looks a little more red and a little plumper than usual. He must have been biting it while you drooled all over his length.

You grind down on his bulge, situating his cock so that it runs parallel with your slit. You’re able to make contact with every part of him, feeling the ridge of his tip under your clit and the vein of his shaft– it could just be the seam of his boxers– against your entrance. A shaky gasp leaves your mouth as you roll your hips, alternating between quick and slow passes. You’re teasing yourself, just like you’re teasing Jack, but you’re not ashamed about the whimpers and moans that are falling from your lips.

Jack, however, seems to be trying to keep his own noises under wraps. He doesn’t seem to want to reveal just how affected he is by your touch and your sounds. His fingers are wrapped around the chain of the handcuffs, knuckles turning white as he stares up at you. His cheeks have turned red and you know that he’s close to breaking– close to begging for more.

Which means that it’s time to move to phase three– you’ll remove his boxers and keep his cock in the same spot, parallel with your pussy, and continue to grind against his bare skin until he’s seconds from shooting off.

You rise up on your knees, hovering above Jack’s lap. You can’t help but tease him a little more: “Do you want to take these off, or should I do it for you?” You ask, blinking at Jack with doe eyes. Then, you laugh and tap your head. “Oh, gosh, I’m such a ditz. I totally forgot you’re all tied up. Sorry, J.”

Jack’s hips buck up again at the mention of his bondage– an involuntary response that you file away for later. Again, his tip brushes your entrance, and your lips part at the contact. You look down at his boxers, which are completely messy with your slick and spit. There’s also a pearly bead of precum leaking from Jack’s tip, soaking through the fabric.

You’re not sure where the idea comes from. It seems to appear out of nowhere, filling your mind like an intrusive thought. You swallow, throat tight, then lower yourself down to resume your grinding against his member.

“Or should I take them off at all,” you say, voice feeling far away. You know you’re talking quietly and carefully, not sure if what you’re thinking is– too far. You reach behind yourself and hold the base of Jack’s cock, causing it to stand away from his body. 

Jack’s eyes are flying between your eyes and your lips, breaths falling from his lips in uneven pants. The blues are turning a bit glassy, but they’re rapt on you. 

You start to trace his tip across your slit, teasing yourself. “I wonder what it would feel like if…” You trail off, your own eyes leaving Jack’s and finding his lips. You lean back against his tip, feeling it breach your hole slightly. The fabric is so wet that you barely feel a difference. “Does it feel different?” You ask, breath hitching. “Fuck, J, I want to– just the tip. Just to see what it feels like. Then I’ll–”

“Take the handcuffs off,” Jack chokes out. His eyes are wild. “Y/N, take ‘em off. I’m going to fucking come inside you through my fucking boxers and I am not doing that without getting my hands on you–”

You cut off his rambling by shoving your hand under the pillow to the right of his head and feeling around for the key. He’s– he’s actually going to let you try it– the least you can do is take off the handcuffs and let him touch you, too.

[marcsburnerphone]

The trials of us

(Declan O'hara x Fem! reader)

warnings: none so far

summary: At the start of their new company Rupert calls in a trusted friend to assist his business partner Declan O'hara the success of this set up is for the future to tell.

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

“What's this have to do with me?” you ask as the horse you sit upon gallops softly through the wooded area. 

“He’s going to need an assistant and I'd like them to be someone I can trust, you're good at complying, no?” he laughs arrogantly at the end of the sentence, had anyone else said that your hand would have been at their mouth but it's Rupert.

“Funny, what even made you want to start your own company?” you ask as he immediately pulls his horse to a halt.

“Something changed inside of me I guess, I want to have something of my own.” he says almost nervously which is off for someone like Rupert, someone with so much confidence in his very being.

“Okay, and why Declan O'hara as your partner?” he's not someone to commonly engage in controversy he's usually more so the reason there is any controversy.

“Cause his daughter and family will have to resume their lives elsewhere and that isn't fair to them especially when they were promised otherwise.” he says while looking ahead.

“Once again, since when do you care about other people?” you say pulling your horse in front of him so he's forced to look at you.

“Since recently and if you continue to ask me questions you'll come to realize that my old ways are still very alive in me.” 

“Alright no need to be bratty.” you say before continuing down the path set ahead.

—-----------

“Okay Declan as i've stated previously my family friend that I'd wanted to hire as your assistant-”

“As I've stated previously Rupert, I don't need an assistant. I can handle myself just fine.” Maud who sits next to him rolls her eyes at Rupert quietly trying to suggest her husband is wrong to please another man.

“Well I can assist you for a week and by the end if you decide it's not something you care for then I will happily return home.” you say finding your way into the room they're sat down in. 

“Oh wait-” maud starts.

“You're quite stunning.” Taggie states immediately silencing her mother.

“As are you darling.” you reply with a soft smile till your eyes land on Declan O'hara, and my oh my that camera does not do him justice.

“Nice to meet you Mr.O’hara.” you say while reaching your hand out to shake his own.

“Nice to meet you.” he says, gripping yours quite softly compared to what you were expecting.

“And I'm Maud his wife.” she says cutting in while grabbing your hand from her husbands to shake.

“I know, it's nice to meet you also.” serial cheater, you think to yourself but you're no one to pass judgment. 

“Taggie I presume.” you say going to shake hers next, you're about five years older than her making her the only person in this town you could have good friendship with.

“Yes lovely to meet you, my dad could use your help even if he won't admit it.” you smile with a nod before taking Rupert's side once again.

“Like I was saying before rudely interrupted, she's only here to help, trust me she could attend to anything this world has to offer but she's willing to assist you so please declan don't be so stubborn and give it a try.” Rupert says a little strongly.

“Okay yeah i'll try it out.” his eyes are glued to your own, there’s no words you can put to his expression but strong and unquitting. You also don't miss the way Taggie and her mother eat Rupert with their eyes but that’s not of your concern as of rightnow.

“That is what I want to hear.” Rupert says excitedly.

“Where will you be staying?” Declan asks you.

“With my good ole friend here.” you say while patting Rupert on the shoulder.

“What no you will not.” he says immediately.

“Oh yes I will, you drag me out here, give me a job that I don't need and expect me to stay anywhere other than in this home that's far too big for you lonesome than you have mistaken me.” Rupert is silenced, stunning everyone in the room when he simply just shakes his head in agreement.

“She will be staying with me.” he addresses declan then looking to taggie who seems satisfied. 

“Very well then, i'll be going on a walk taggie if you'd like to join. I'd love the company. I'm not fond of the folk in this area.” she looks to declan for approval before joining as you two exit the room.

Maud looks displeased and Declan doesn't even dare to look at her while Rupert just smiles before also exiting the room.

—--------

“How do you know Rupert?” Taggie asks as she tries to not seem worried.

“Childhood, our parents were friends and by the time I was born they were too busy chasing their pursuits to parent and Rupert was old enough to care for the two of us and he did.” you say with your hands crossed behind your back. “So he's like a brother?” “If it wasn't for that crude mouth i'd say yes but he's more of a best friend a companion i can always return to had I need anything and vice versa.” 

“Did you guys ever… you know?” she asks suggestively.

“Ew oh my god no, we've always been and always will be completely platonic like i said he dances on the borderline of being my brother i love him as such.” 

“Oh okay.” she lets out a breath of relief that you don't miss.

“Have you got a boyfriend?” you ask.

“No I don't, do you?” Dammit rupert.

“No, I've always been one that's content in her own solitude.” you reply as the sun is at its golden hour casting a gorgeous glow on the nature that surrounds the two of you.

“Well once you start working for my father the solitude will be stripped from beneath your feet.” she forewarns you.

“Something tells me it's not your father that'll be doing that.” you say with a laugh. 

“No yeah it'll definitely be my mother.” 

“Oh I was going to say rupert.” you say as you both start laughing.

“Perhaps he is too.”

“We should head back before the sun sets.” she nods in agreement as you change the course to which you were walking.

—-------------

“What's going on between you and the O’hara women?” you say while quietly entering Rupert's study.

“I have no clue as to what youre talking about.’’ He makes that stupid face you hated growing up.

“Yes you do, they were both casting glances to you in that room that I wouldn't call innocent.” 

“What can I say, women love me?” 

“Disgusting, poor declan though his wife is shameless.” he nods in agreement.

“Have you guys had sex be honest?” you ask while taking a seat in front of his desk.

“No, she tried it though.” you hum in understanding.

“Changed man.” you simply say.

“Stop it.” his eyes meet yours.

“Is it loyalty to the business partner or loyalty to his stunning daughter?” 

“Get out.” 

“I'll find out eventually.” you say while standing.

“Goodnight, first day tomorrow rest well.” he says returning to his paperwork.

“Night.” 

—-------------

I can't even write a required paper this fast.

hope you enjoy as always comment and reposts are so appreciated, all my love<3

[babydollmarauders]

CLUMSY — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: quinn and luke realize how clumsy y/n is after noticing how often jack unconsciously keeps her from harm

notes: y/n is written sensitive and clumsy! also, i wrote this on saturday to have something to post this week while i’m unable to write <3

i’ve met my boyfriends family on numerous occasions since we started dating in october. mostly through quick trips such as Quinn coming into town for a game against the Devils and whatnot, but this is my first time spending an elongated amount of time with them and i have this irrational fear that they’ll dislike me.

Jack has assured me multiple times since we’ve arrived at the lake house for the summer that i have no reason to worry, but it’s been four days and i still feel like they’re forming their opinions on me. so, i’ve taken it upon myself to do whatever i can in order to get them to like me; including my current task of baking cookies.

“you know they already love you, right?” Jack asks, standing at the counter beside me, observing as i mix the dry ingredients into a bowl. “you don’t need to bake them cookies.”

“are you saying you don’t want my sea salt chocolate chip cookies?” i keep focused on the task at hand, my sight never leaving the measuring cup as i scoop the flour into the bowl.

“now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” a hearty chuckle escapes his lips as he maneuvers himself behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist as he clings himself to me, his cheek resting pressed against my shoulder blade. “i definitely want your cookies. i’m just saying that my brothers don’t need them.”

i giggle as his fingers tickle at the bits of my sides where my shirt has risen, arching my back to try and escape his hands. Jack groans as i break free from his grip, but i assume it’s mostly due to his brothers entering the kitchen.

“ooh, what are you making?” Luke wonders, coming to a stop on the opposite side of the counter.

“cookies!” i grin, finally looking up as i finish the dry ingredients.

“yum.” Quinn chimes in, sidling into the spot beside Luke. he peers into the bowl and his brows furrow slightly. “y/n, that’s just powder?”

i bark out a laugh at the clueless boy.

“Quinny, you have to mix the dry ingredients first. then the wet ingredients such as eggs, butter and vanilla. and then you mix them both together to form the dough.” i explain. i scan the countertop, making sure i have each item needed for the next step. “i need another bowl.”

i bend down, opening the lower cupboard and reaching for the metal mixing bowl inside.

“Trevor texted me this morning.” i hear Jack inform the boys.

“yeah? when’s he coming up?” Quinn asks.

“in two weeks. but Alex is getting here tomorrow.” Jack says. i shut the cupboard door, stretching my legs to rise back up from my position. my head bumps Jack’s hand, wrapped around the lip of the counter above where i was bent.

my left hand rubs the top of the back of my head super quick as i set the mixing bowl on the counter. i glance back up as Luke and Quinn share an amused look and my face scrunches in confusion.

what did i miss?

**

Jack’s left arm rests on my shoulders, my face half buried into his chest as he scrolls on his phone. Quinn and Luke sit in armchairs on opposite sides of the couch as Alex sits on the opposite side of Jack. a movie plays on the tv, but i’m momentarily distracted by Ellen walking past the back of the couch, calling out a goodnight.

“goodnight El!” i call back as she makes her way to the stairs, the boys all muttering their own goodnight’s.

“brunch tomorrow, while the boys golf?” she asks, confirming our plans. i nod and she grins, blowing a kiss towards the group of us as she finally walks up the stairs.

“you guys are going to brunch tomorrow? without us?!” Luke asks, his hand coming up to his chest in mock offense.

“you guys are going golfing tomorrow, without us! it’s only fair.” i laugh and Alex chuckles.

“y/n/n, you don’t even like golf. you said it’s boring and called it ‘watered down hockey’.” Alex points out as i burrow back into Jack’s side.

“shh, i’m watching the movie.” i shush him, making the boys laugh. Jack turns back to his phone and i watch through one peeked open eye as he double taps on his teammate’s most recent instagram post before typing out some nonsense comment that i’ll never understand.

pulling back, i lock my eyes on the remote on the coffee table. sliding forward some, i lean, stretching my fingertips out to try and grab it. finally getting ahold of it, i go to lean back, wobbling forward and accepting my fate. i brace myself to fall before feeling a hand grab onto the back of my shirt. yanking me back, Jack pulls me back into his side, his eyes still glued to his phone. i heave out a small relieved sigh as i press a kiss to his chest before turning the volume up on the tv.

i glance around the living room to the other boys, gauging how interested they are in the movie, but Luke and Quinn are exchanging a look. Luke biting back a smile as Quinn smirks.

what did i miss this time?

**

with the boys friends all finally arriving, the lake house has become much too crowded to hang out inside. so instead we’re all outside, gathered around a fire that was once blazing but now dwindling. my boyfriend jokes around with Cole and Trevor, Luke speaking with his University of Michigan teammates, Ethan and Dylan, and lastly Quinn sits sipping a beer as he chats with Alex and the Tkachuk’s.

making myself scarce in order to not cling to my boyfriends side as he tries to enjoy himself, i text with my own friends from back in New Jersey as i balance on the edge of the brick fire pit, circling it as i type.

“be careful, babe.” Jack warns me, and i grin and throw him a thumbs up. he barely gives me a second glance before Trevor takes up his attention, reciting a story of something that happened to he and his friend Jamie back in California.

i continue pacing around on the elevated bricks, typing a long winded message to Leah, explaining why she shouldn’t call her ex. as i pass by my boyfriend once more, i’m not paying as close attention as i probably should be, my foot getting a little too close to the inner edge as i start to slip.

a hand grips my elbow, pulling me back to a standing position before i can fall into the fire and i look over to see Jack, his attention still on Trevor and his hand wrapped around my arm as he nods his head at his friend while he continues ranting. i give a light pat to Jack’s shoulder to let him know i’m fine and he releases his grip.

slipping my phone into my pocket, i continue my journey around the fire pit again, this time with more of my focus going into keeping upright. passing Luke, i see him looking away from his friends, and i follow his line of sight to his brother, Quinn looking right back at him. both wear an entertained appearance and i look around to see if i can find what they’re smiling about but come up empty-handed.

why do i keep missing these things?

**

with today being one of the hottest days of the summer, we’re all crowded on the boat. most of the group lounges around conversing with one another, Luke currently taking his turn wakesurfing as music blares from Quinn’s bluetooth speaker.

i’m sat in Jack’s lap, rubbing my third layer of sunscreen on my legs and the tops of my feet.

“babe, i think you’ve got enough.” Jack laughs, his hands grip my waist to keep me from falling as i’m leaned forward.

“i just wanna make sure. the UV index is super high today and you know how easily i burn.” i tell him, sitting back upright as i flip the cap of the sunscreen closed once more.

“i know, sugar. but we’ve only been out here for two hours and that’s your third time applying it. i think you’re okay for a while.” he takes the lotion from my hands, handing the bottle over to Cole. “put that in the bag next to you, eh?”

Cole nods, placing the sunscreen into the waterproof zip up bag i brought on the boat.

“y/n/n! c’mere!” Luke shouts, making me untangle myself from Jack. i rise to my feet, shuffling over to the back of the boat and leaning over to get closer in order to hear him better.

“you gonna let her get that close to the edge, Rowdy?” Quinn questions, making the boys laugh.

“what?” Jack asks. “what do you mean?”

“she’s a bit clumsy, is she not? we’ve noticed you all summer, keeping her from hurting herself.” Quinn replies through chuckles. even Alex, who drives the boat barks out a laugh.

“wait, when did i do that?” Jack wonders.

“all the time! you weren’t even paying attention when you did it!” Luke shouts and i stick my tongue out at him before turning to observe the boys.

“there was the first time Luke and i noticed it, when you wrapped your hand over the counter to make sure she didn’t hit her head. and you were right to do so because she bumped it right on your hand.” Quinn explains.

“or when she was reaching off the couch to grab the remote and you caught her by her shirt to keep her from falling. and you didn’t even look up from your phone as you did it!” Luke says as he climbs back on the boat.

“or how about when she was balancing on the fire pit and you caught her by the arm to keep her from falling straight into the fire. while you kept all your attention on Trevor. didn’t even look, you just reached a hand out and grabbed her.” Quinn provides another example. “i can go on.”

“i didn’t even realize i was doing all that.” Jack shrugs, glancing towards me. “i guess it’s just unconscious reaction. i’ve gotten used to it by now.”

“i’m not clumsy.” i pout, crossing my arms over my chest.

“it’s okay, it’s not necessarily a bad thing!” Trevor attempts to comfort me. i give him a side-eye, making my way over to Jack. but before i can sit in his lap, i slip. Jack’s arms wrap around my waist to keep me from dropping to the floor, pulling me down onto his thighs instead.

“you are pretty clumsy, babe.” one of Jack’s arms stays planted across my waist, holding me to him as his index finger pushes my chin up so i’m looking up at him. “but, it’s adorable.”

i bury my face in his chest out of embarrassment. i didn’t think i was clumsy. i mean, i know i’ve always been a bit accident prone; broken glasses, falling a bit more than my friends. but i didn’t think i was clumsy.

“it’s nothing to be ashamed of, y/n.” Quinn tells me. Jack’s hand trails up and down my back as he whispers reassurances in my ear.

“yeah, we didn’t mean to embarrass you or anything.” Luke pipes up once more, his voice seeping with regret.

“that’s why you kept looking at each other all the time.” my words are muffled by Jack’s chest, but by the way that Jack coos as he places a kiss on the top of my head, i know they heard them. “you were laughing at me.”

“we weren’t. i swear we weren’t.” Quinn’s voice is closer now, and i feel another hand touch my back. “we were laughing with you. we just thought it was funny that Jack didn’t even notice when he was doing it.”

“honest?” i question.

“honest. i promise.” my head rises at Luke’s voice, closer now as well. his hand comes up to rest on my knee and i look over to see him squatted down beside Jack and i, Quinn sitting next to us.

“i didn’t realize i was clumsy.” i confess. “i just thought it was normal.”

“i gotta say, you’re definitely the first girlfriend i’ve ever had to pull away from falling into an actual fire.” Jack chuckles, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “but i wouldn’t want you any other way.”

“really?”

“really. i love you. clumsiness and all.” he tells me. his grip gets tighter around me and i crane my neck to crash my lips into his.

“ugh, gross!” Trevor exclaims. Jack pulls back, leaning his forehead against mine.

“shut up, Z.” he grins, pulling me into one more kiss. “now, you ready to learn how to wakesurf?”

“yeah, no. even before i knew i was considered clumsy, i knew i wasn’t going out there. i’ll fall straight on my face, Jacky. i mean seriously, i’m a clutz!”

[leconcombrerit]

This thing had been rotting in my files for a year (minus three weeks but that's basically a year). It was a redraw of one of my first ever pieces for this fandom, and I still find it quite okay if a little stiff in places, so I thought I might as well share it since I don't draw that much anymore.

And then I had second thoughts, which obviously led to me posting it anyway, as you can see, but I realized I've almost made it a point not to draw anything related to Sasi anymore. As in at all. I can't, and I don't want to, and even sharing old art feels a bit 'meh'. It's too directly linked to my long going art block.

What I mean by that is that if I took all the followers I have out there and asked them what they know me or initially followed me for, you might have a fair amount of Lis 2 and the occasional Desert Bluffs afficionados, but you'd get an overwhelming majority of Sanders Sides. Sanders Sides fashion posts even. I was by no means famous for it or anything, but at my small artist scale, it was the biggest success I had.

And it makes it much harder to go back to it at all now. One, because I don't give a damn about the show anymore. Two, because I haven't been properly obsessing over anything in a while (there was a series early this year but given the actual emotional distress I get thinking about it I'm ruling it out). I haven't had real engagement from my own brain, nor real engagement from a broad audience -which makes sense, I'm not posting for anything that will reach a broad audience. But it takes its toll regardless.

Even when I finally finished writing a long fic, I couldn't help but feel 'all this for what ? Ten people or so and two hundreds have dropped it ?'. Which is a bad way to think about stuff you write for your own enjoyment but, you know, the brain gets happy with external validation even if you pretend really hard you don't care.

And so it feels tempting to go back to the golden goose just the time to get the creative juice pumping back, and I try, and I always end up frustrated and angry and feeling even less like making art that before. I'm not having fun with Sasi. Like an old friend you have nothing to say to and yet you have so much to say otherwise, so you get a bit frustrated, you know ? Not sure I'm making much sense, but that's how it feels. I want to have something like that again, but it won't be with Sanders Sides, and I somehow just want if off my radar.

It was left hanging, then lost its spark, and then I stopped caring altogether and I most likely won't even watch the finale when it does come out. I'm over it. I wish I wasn't though, because it does feel like the artistic spark won't come back all on its own this time, and the buzzing community made it so much easier to bounce back and do shit when your brain got wired all wrong.

It sounds like I'm just bawling after love and likes and stuff, and I guess that's part of it, in a way ? Like I'm in no place to do things for myself, and seeing the one thing I used to use to get back in the flow giving me a bored sense of dread doesn't feel too great.

Yet this drawing is still good ! I find it good ! I don't remember everything, but I can tell from the looks of it that I spent a while on it ! It's nice ! I should celebrate that. So I'm sharing it. I think it will be the last piece of Sasi I ever share, though. I'm not watching the finale when it comes out. I don't care about it. I'll just keep doodling my OCs and characters from cool books every once in a while. I'll write little things.

I just really, really need to stop trying to go back to it when it's clearly not working and not even for good reasons. It was a fun ride though ! So yeah. Basically. A whole ass rant for a one year old piece of art. I'm in my bi-annual depresso mood, nothing too surprising there.

[peachhcs]

going to worlds

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

with worlds coming up, tensions get high in the hughes’ household between luke and samy.

2k words

so this is actually more samy x luke more than samy x will but here’s the sibling angst i mentioned a few days ago! i feel like we don’t see a lot of samy’s relationship with her brothers so i wanna try and write that more but i will be writing more about worlds between will and samy as it plays out! :))

au masterlist

“no, absolutely not,” luke immediately shook his head as he walked out of the kitchen. samy was hot on his tail as she followed him into the living room, watching as he plopped himself onto the couch, remote in hand. 

“why not? it’s not like i’m gonna be bothering you,” the younger hughes argued, hanging herself over the couch so she was right in her brother’s face. 

the boy pushed her away, “but it will be a bother when i have to look after you the entire month there. i’m not doing that shit. i’m not gonna be some babysitter at my own hockey tournament,” luke was being harsh which samy sort of expected, but not this bad.

“i’m 19 years old. you don’t need to look after me,” the girl fired back. 

“that’s not what mom and dad will say. plus, i kind of do because we’re in a fucking foreign country and i’m not that stupid to let you wander around czechia by yourself,” luke shot back even harder. a frustrated groan escaped samy’s lips. this brother was supposed to be easier than her other two. 

“i won’t be by myself. plus, i went to sweden and mom and dad were fine,” samy mumbled sheepishly. 

“what do you think you’re gonna do when we’re at practice almost the whole day? sit in the hotel? that’s gonna get boring real quick,” the curly-brunette shook his head, already very over the conversation and disregarding what his sister said.

“you’re being such a brat. i’m not 12 years old anymore, luke. i can take care of myself, you know. you’re not even 21 yet so right now it’s a one year age difference.” 

“why do you even wanna go? don’t you have your own shit to do instead of follow me to czechia,” the middle hughes rolled his eyes. although, his words hit a nerve. 

samy drew back off the couch, a frown settling onto her lips. sure, her and luke had their fair share of fights and arguments, but for some reason, his words hurt even more than any of those combined. 

“jesus, when did you turn into such an asshole?” now her words hit luke’s nerve this time. the older boy whipped around so hard samy swore he gave himself whiplash. his lips were set in a straight line along with his eyebrows pinched together. 

“who are you calling an asshole right now? you’re the one who needs to grow up right now,” the boy shot back quite harshly. 

“so me going to every single one of your ntdp games, home games at umich mean nothing to you? you just think i’m following you around?” the girl frowned, her hurt showing more than she anticipated as her voice wavered. 

“i- i..that’s not what i meant, sam. i just..it’s gonna be a bother and you just wanna go to make out with your boyfriend anyway,” luke defended himself, but his words didn’t sound any better than before. 

those words hurt samy a lot more than a few minutes ago. luke never called her sam ever. the siblings stared at one another, the silence engulfing them while luke awaited a response. “so that’s what you think? you’ve just forgotten that will’s still my best friend and i’ve been supporting him since we were kids along with you? you just think i wanna go to be some bother to you and have sex with my boyfriend?” samy’s voice finally rose to the point where they both knew she was angry. 

“i mean..am i wrong?” the wrong responses kept falling from the middle hughes’ mouth. 

“yes! you are wrong, luke! haven’t you and will always wanted to play on the same team together since we were kids but never could because you weren’t ever in the same age group? and now that it’s finally happening, i can’t go and support my brother and best friend who are playing for the same team because all you think is that i’m going to have sex with him all the time and be some fucking bother. i only asked you because i knew mom and dad would only let me go if you said yes and i thought you would because you’d want your sister there cheering you on like i have been for your entire life. maybe this whole fame thing really did get to your head,” samy stormed off before luke could even respond. her heavy footsteps carried all the way up the stairs until the boy heard her bedroom door slam shut. 

“woah, someone’s mad..” jack came out from the downstairs bedroom. his hair looked absolutely insane like he’d just woken up despite it being 2 in the afternoon. 

“i don’t know what’s up with her,” luke rolled his eyes, settling back into the couch like nothing happened. 

“she’s got a point, you know. you were kind of being an asshole,” jack shrugged as he wandered into the kitchen. 

“oh come on, not you too. if she goes, i’m just gonna have to look after her!” luke exclaimed, head falling back onto the couch in frustration. 

“she’s not some kid anymore, moosey. she’s 19. you’re not even 21. she can handle herself. she did in sweden,”  jack stuck up for their little sister. 

“that was different because everyone was there already. this isn’t the sam, jack. mom and dad will put me on babysitter duty because they aren’t there,” the younger brother continued his defense. 

“i don’t think it would be babysitting. more like making sure she’s okay. checking in? plus, i doubt she’ll even be in the hotel room that much anyway. she’ll wanna hang with smitty and leno,” jack started making himself a sandwich with the little ingredients in the fridge. apparently, ellen and jim hardly grocery shopped when they didn’t have four kids in one house anymore. 

“yeah and then that will lead to them having sex and then that becomes a whole thing,” luke rambled on. 

“is this really about not wanting samy there or is it about you thinking she’s taking away your moment if she’s there?” the older hughes brother proposed a new idea. he always saw through to his siblings hidden emotions they were trying to conceal. a beat of silence passed between the brothers and jack took the silence as his answer. he stopped making his sandwich for a moment to find a seat on the couch beside his brother. luke’s gaze stuck to the ground. 

“come on, rusty. talk to me,” jack nudged his brother’s knee. 

“it just feels like i never get to hang out with will because samy’s always there. or..he chooses her instead of hanging with us nowadays. being able to play on team usa together has been our dream since we were kids. i love that samy’s happy and so is will..i just..i really hoped this could be a just us thing. i don’t know. sounds selfish, i know,” the younger boy mumbled almost ashamed. 

“it’s not selfish, lukey. i get it. i’m still getting used to their whole dating thing too here and there. it is weird seeing one of your close friends date your sister,” jack sympathized. “i’m sure if you talked to samy she’ll understand. she’s always been your #1 supporter, luke. i know she’s not trying to come with you to wedge her way in between you guys. maybe set some boundaries?” 

“maybe i just feel so disconnected because i went to college and then was hardly ever around. feels like i don’t even know her sometimes anymore or will, you know? he used to be attached to our hips as kids and now..it’s just..not the same,” the curly-haired boy’s voiced faded off. a frown appeared on jack’s lips, rubbing his brother’s arm in a soothing manner. 

“talk to her, lukey. this can be your chance to reconnect with both of them the month you’re there,” the older boy encouraged. 

luke finally took to his words, agreeing as he got up and shuffled upstairs to hopefully reconcile. samy’s room sounded quiet the closer he got, so he gently knocked on the door.

“go away,” he heard lowly.

“please? just wanna talk,” luke mumbled from outside. 

a beat of silence passed until there was a small click and his sister’s gaze appeared through the crack, “about what?” 

“me being an asshole,” the older boy admitted in defeat that she was right earlier. the door opened wider, an indication that he could go in. 

luke’s gaze flicked around the room that he really hadn’t seen in..years almost. it was so similar, yet it felt so different in his eyes. so much time seemed to pass in samy’s room.

“you have five minutes to give me a good explanation,” the girl crossed her arms, snapping her brother back into reality. 

the guilt crept across luke’s face as he struggled on where to start. he was never the one to admit his feeling outright like this. “first, i’m sorry. i was an asshole about the whole thing,” he began.

“yeah, you kind of were. that really hurt, luke,” samy said seriously and the boy sighed. 

“i know..i don’t know why—i think i just…” he stumbled over his words and everything he just admitted to jack downstairs. “feels like i don’t really know you anymore just because i’ve been away and i hate that. we used to be so close and now it feels like we just don’t talk..same with will. i dunno. i guess i just didn’t want you there because i was being selfish and just wanted will and i there together. i realize now that you deserve to be there too to support us,” the boy continued in a long ramble that probably made no sense. 

he watched samy’s expression soften up a little, “you think we aren’t close anymore?” 

“i mean..not as close as we used to be. college and everything else seems to have made us drift..same with jack. same with quinn.”

yes, the hughes siblings were close, but not nearly as close when they all lived under one roof. one by one as each brother left, their bond slowly dissipated. texts became littler and littler. the time changes weren’t easy to work around sometimes. 

in some ways, samy saw where luke came from because quinn and jack missed a lot of big milestones in samy’s life yet she was there for all of theirs. 

“i-i’m sorry. i didn’t know you felt that way,” the girl frowned. 

“no, no, it’s not your fault. i just..have been feeling weird lately. i think having you there will be really fun. maybe it can even make up for some of the time we’ve lost,” luke offered a smile. 

“no, i don’t have to go. you’re right. it’s a you and will thing. something you’ve been waiting for since you were kids,” the girl shook her head.

“no, no, i want you there. i promise. plus, i think smitty would actually fight me if he knew i wasn’t letting you come. i’m serious. we can catch up. have fun in czechia together. i’m sure mom and dad would love our sibling bonding,” the two shared a laugh. 

“are you sure?” 

“positive. i’ve missed hanging around you,” luke opened his arms for a hug. the youngest hughes stepped into his arms and they shared a tight hug in what felt like forever. 

“we’re gonna have so much fun there. i already have an intinerary planned for your off days,” the girl grinned widely when the two pulled away. 

a laugh escaped luke’s lips, “of course you do. we’ll talk to mom and dad tonight, yeah?” 

samy nodded and she let her brother squeeze her shoulders one last time before leaving her alone for now. she excitedly called will next to let him know the good news that they’d be able to spend the next few weeks together. 

[hauntedrain]

F1 Drivers First Date Headcanons .ೃ࿐

✧*̥˚ Includes Charles, Max, and Oscar. *̥˚✧

✮▹A/N: IT'S BEEN FOREVER, and to be fair I didn't write this recently, it's been in my drafts. but I hope it's okay for now. I've been having a writing block for a long time and haven't had inspo to write anything. I can make more parts if requested.

✰▹Warnings/Notices: maybe unrealistic a bit, honestly kinda a shit post, fr tho not anything mad just fluff. NOT EDITED, NOT PROOFREAD.

Charles Leclerc ⋆୨୧˚

would definitely be really worried about the date. Not that he's scared about you or anything, but about if he planned the right thing, picked the right outfit, or something along those lines. He just wants to make a good "first impression".

He would be Facetiming/texting Pierre or Arthur every 10 minutes for confirmation and reassurance. "Be honest, do these pants make me look stupid. I can't have her thinking I'm stupid, and can't properly dress myself." He asks while fixing his hair for the 100th time on Facetime. " Charlie, if you're calling me this much then maybe, just maybe... You can't dress yourself properly." "Not funny, but for real. Is this fine?"

He would probably get even more nervous as he meets up with you or picks you up like would be messing with his bracelets, blushing or sheepishly smiling a lot. But after a while, he would calm down and get more confident being around you and talking to you.

He probably asks himself how he was even able to ask you out in the first place considering how nervous he is right now.

For the date idea, he would really want it to be something that you would enjoy. He would message you or ask your friends what your favorite things are and things to do.

Max Verstappen ✧.*

I think he would be more collected when talking about first dates, however, he would still be nervous about certain things. Would it go well? Is the only reason you like him for his title? What if it's really awkward?

But by the time he's there and starts talking to you those worries fade away and he starts to open up more and be more him. He would definitely not be able to keep a smile off his face after that.

I think the first date you guys would have is just talking over dinner, nothing too crazy, but he also wouldn't want to plan something boring so maybe you guys would do something afterward. Like a walk around a park or going into small stores on the way home? Idk but something that wouldn't just be a simple dinner.

I feel like during the first date, if he doesn't already know you, he tries to get to know you well. He wouldn't just be asking questions like "What your favorite color?", "Favorite season?", etc. Not that its inherently wrong to want to know but he wants something different, like knowing a deep passion or dream of yours. Or even memories and moments throughout your life. Something deeper.

Oscar Piastri *ೃ༄

I think he would want to do something more casual as a first date. Something like a picnic or going to a cafe. But at the end of the day if you just wanted a dinner somewhere he would be fine with that too.

I don't feel like he would be nervous like others are nervous for first dates, he would be more nervous about just going out and doing things than if the actual date goes well.

Like not freaking out about what to wear, or first impressions, but worrying if this is the right thing to do, or if the date plan was enough (kind of like how Charles cares about what the date was for you.)

Maybe brings a few flowers or something small, especially if you guys already knew each other. He would try a nice gesture but nothing to crazy, just something sweet and simple.

⭒❃.✮:▹A/N: It's been FOREVER since I posted actual writing. I apologize if this makes no sense or is stupid, this has been in my drafts forever and I never really went back over it before now. I've been out of ideas so plz request something! I will literally write for anyone about anything (in reason)

[myrquez]

In Motogp there’s so much money involved, performance anxiety dominates and builds up barriers. Everyone retreats into their own pack, nothing is done together anymore. And I just adapt to it, according to the theory that it’s better to be alone than to be in a group full of fake smiles. But relationships among athletes aren’t only the ones made via some direct, classic form of communication. In sport you can actually enter into communication with someone through other ways that are more mediated but, in some cases, even more profound. With Márquez, for example, we aren’t technically friends. We think highly of each other, we respect each other, we smile to each other when one sees the other one, over the past year he’s been very fair to me, often defining me as an ideal opponent. I think it’s because he knows that I can race him very hard, but always within the rules. Which is, even if for many may not seem like it, exactly the same thing he always did while racing against me. Marc may look crazy, but he actually stands out from clichés and defies physics laws in good conscience. Unlike other riders — those reckless ones with no sense of limit, who after a crash often say “I don’t know why I crashed” — Márquez knows very well why he crashes. He often precisely crashes on purpose, just to explore that limit. He does some experiments first, then goes on to elaborate his theory. In a way, he’s an empiricist exactly like my dad was, when he purposely kept taking more and more steps forward on the track to teach me how and where to brake. It’s just that in this case, it’s the rider that does it. I like Marc. And I interpreted our famous duels in 2017 as a means to get to know each other better. In Austria and Japan we indeed were extreme, but not crazy. Adventures-seekers who like to push themselves to the limit, but not insane and neither unfair to each other […] Deep down, he isn’t irresponsible, even if he often looks for some maneuvers that have no rhyme or reason. Theoretically, and practically, they don’t make any sense. Yet I never get angry about it, not even that time in Zeltweg when it looked like I told him to fuck off. It surprises me, instead, to see what he tried to do to get a win, something like “I can’t believe it”, an amazed curiosity to see how he tried to move into this uncharted territory, the same one where, thanks to him, I consequently went into as the well. And it’s so cool. As if we both dug together a whole new vein of gold: we won’t share the prize, of course, because to keep the gold is my goal, but we still dug through it together as if we were pioneers. And this indeed does create a bond, whatever is it.

And it’s even more incredible because I exactly know what Marc is going to do in that last turn in Zeltweg. Theoretically, he doesn’t have any more weapons to attack me: at this point his Honda has less traction, worn-out tyres, less power; generally speaking, Honda is less suited to this track than Ducati. And yet he got this far, in the end […] I well know that to have Marc right behind you while going through the last corner is way too much of a problem, the worst thing it could happen to you: he’s going to try it anyway anywhere. So I’ll be there, waiting for him […] Even if we’re going at 200 km/h, I can feel upon my skin how meters get marked bit by bit. One after another. I force myself to focus on his engine’s sound to understand when and where he will attack. And when the noise is there, almost unbearable, I brake hard and leave him a bit of space on the inside line, to force him to exaggerate a bit and then overtake him in acceleration. It’s almost as if I just accepted his invite, just to deceive him later. It might look like it’s just a technical challenge, or a stunt one, but it’s actually about mind games, an hand in glove tied relationship in which our minds get connected. As in bull and bullfighter kind of way. Or, in a I know that you know that I know kind of way. To get a win in this way is a much more difficult thing to achieve, but it is much more cooler as well. When Marc gets on the inside Iine I just know that I made it, because he’s a champion, but he cannot overcome the laws of psychic. My plan gets fulfilled and the dissolving noise of his bike as he goes wide resonates with liberation. That’s when I make that gesture, automatically. Fuck off, you just got played! Real subtitle is: what did you make me do, you bastard? It’s my third win this year. It’s now clear that I am the one challenging Márquez for the title. But to me this doesn’t matter. Like it doesn’t matter that much how I just won against the one who is recognized as the hand-to-hand duels master […] What matters most is that this race has been a way to get to know each other better. Márquez, with his usual Joker smile, confesses that if he hadn’t tried to surpass me he wouldn’t have slept at all that night. That’s what perfectly defines what he is: as long as he is breathing, he will try to pass you even if he had to go through a wall.

In Motegi it isn’t that different. Here, as well, Márquez is struggling a bit more than me, but I am sure he is going to try it in the last corner. Why shouldn’t he? We’ve been “beating” each other as if there was no tomorrow for the last six laps, in some apocalyptic conditions: heavy rain, curling-like grip, no visibility at all […] Ten minutes ago I wouldn’t have thought we’d get to this point, but as soon as Márquez did a little mistake I got back on track and now we’re here, us again. Ehi, Marc, how are you doing? Our connection in Zeltweg has been restored on the other side of the world. It’s now clear that everything that is going to happen now would not be possible without the other’s collaboration. Like two alpinists in a rope team, we will get ‘till the last meter together. We overtake and we get overtaken. We give and we take. We sting like bees, fly like butterflies, and more than anything we hit like blacksmiths. At Turn 10, I change my trajectory: I’ve been studying Marc for quite a lot from behind and now I imitate him, going a bit wider. This allows me to get into Turn 11 very fast, ready for my strong suit: braking. That’s how I easily overtake him. The Ducati is very stable, everything is under control. I’d be sure to get a win at that point but an alarm goes off in my mind: I won’t give it to you this easily. Exactly. Last corner is on the right. Giving my position it’s obvious that there isn’t any physical space to get on the inside, but imagine if he does really give a damn. When I’m about to lean into the Turn, Marc abruptly arrives out of nowhere as gracefully as Hulk in a china shop. It’s not even a dirty try, more like a circus number: his engine’s noise getting closer echoes into my helmet like the drum rolls that comes just before a trapeze artist jumps. Ladies and gentlemen, Marc Márquez! Where the fuck do you want to go? You’re still sitting straight, I’m already leaning: don’t you see that we’re touching? I don’t know how, but I keep the bike in control. I suspend my maneuver for a millisecond, just enough to let him slide on the outside as I go on riding through the apex. At that point he’s way too wide, he pulls half of a miracle by leaning all on the right to keep his bike on track but has no margin for anything else. Farewell, bye, goodbye. I win today. Again. After the finish line, we stop near the track side by side. Our gloves touch. Contact. Knowledge of the other has deepened. Relationship was preserved. Despite everything, no one cut the rope and we got to the mountaintop together. It’s an awesome feeling. That’s exactly the sport that I would always like. Especially because I won. On TV I eventually admit that to win against Márquez in what he does best really excites me: this is the boost that I need for the climb to the championship, at only 11 points from the lead. Marc showers me with compliments and says that it’s awesome to battle with me for the title, the living proof that professionalism and hard work pay off. He calls me a good guy as well, and I forgive him. Actually, no. Why should I be ashamed [of being a good guy]? To pretend to be a bad guy is something that everybody can do. To actually be one when it’s needed, and to do it with a certain style, it’s something for the few.

— andrea dovizioso talking about his relationship and his duels with marc márquez in asfalto (2018)

[midnight-mourning]

*Taps mic* Heard y'all like Moon around here, you're in luck, this one's for you

massive, MASSIVE thank you to @lunarmoves for beta-reading this chapter!!

She put a lot of time and effort into making my BS readable for y'all and it's greatly appreciated <3 <3 <3

Shay also makes really good dca stuff (also sebastian solace but I know very little about the fish tbh) and you should check her out!

Also, happy 200k+!!! We're only 297k from truly becoming the 500k enemies to lovers slowburn of our dreams lmaoooo

But for real I apologize for such a delay with this one. If you'd like to hear my excuses/reasoning they're below the cut, or you can just go read the chapter whatever suits ya ^-^

Tag list (if you would like added please see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

CW: medical stuff & additionally a bit of unreality mentions

Okay going to try and keep this simple bc I've said parts of it before

So as most of you know, I've been sick for 3 months now

I've now been on two rounds of steroids, and currently on my third round of antibiotics, which are basically keep me fucntional, not improving

besides general discomfort and pain, my memory has been pretty shot at times, I will go through the day and barely remember what I did/what I'm doing/what I need to do

as someone who had brain fog caused by covid a few years ago, this was genuinely a scary experience because ultimately, this has been worse

i've felt out of control of my body, having times where I'm mid thought and then instantly lose it

this is not my normal, I usually pride myself on my memory, so losing it has been incredibly devastating and scary

this was not helped by the fact that the quick care I went to (THREE TIMES for this) basically kind of sort of tried to gaslight me into believing nothing could be done and that it's not an infection

so not only has this entire thing has gotten dragged out so much more, which makes me sad tbh, but I've also felt like I've been going crazy bc it felt like no one was believing me when i said I was sick and not getting any better (including friends, family, coworkers etc, though unintentional on their parts to be fair)

I feel like I've lost three months of my life and coming to terms with that has been, yeah

on top of all that, I'm still in school AND doing grad stuff, and while the school side of things has been okay (thank god), grad's had it's moments, won't get into it but have had multiple issues with my advisor that have been at times just really tough to deal with

Confused spirit got pushed to the back burner, because i quite literally at times could not think, and when it comes to this fic, where there's multiple ongoing plot threads, characterizations, lore, and so on to keep track of, it was just, impossible to me to even consider writing for it

having shorter stuff like promptober, the oneshots and such was great to keep me writing, and also still interact with everyone in the community, plus i had a lot of fun with them so that helped too

this is all to say that I do sincerly apologize for the delay, and at the very least I should've clearly communicated about there being a hiatus, when this all started I thought i'd be down for two weeks max, then as that time kept increasing I just kept putting it off and putting it off because i thought i was going to get better, and then I didn't

I do this for fun and for nothing else, fic writing isn't content (it's engaging with fandom) and i have to remind myself of that sometimes but given that I've been around in some capacity on and off I feel I should've said something in some regard

Having said all that, I'm doing okay now! Still sick, but as long as I'm on meds I'm functional, stuff is getting managable with grad, and hopefully have some fun things coming up irl! Point is, the last three months haven't been the best, but they've been alright, due in part to all the support you all have given me, so thank you for that, can't say it enough :)

Okay, I think that just about covers it, thank you for taking the time to read all of this if you did <3

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie: "You know what your traumatic backstory calls for?"

Vaggie: "Hugs?"

Charlie: "THERAPY!"

Vaggie: "Charlie, I don't need-"

Charlie: "Oh YOU don't need therapy? Really? Really."

Vaggie: "..... I'm perfectly functional. Also, it's my trauma."

Charlie: "And is this OUR loving relationship?"

Vaggie: "Of course it-"

Charlie: "The one I'm planning on spending the rest of my life in? Trauma included?"

Vaggie: "I- if, if you want to-?"

Charlie: "Just like how YOU'VE spent three years helping ME with the whole 'wow my family fell apart soooo fast let me cope by latching onto the dream of my disappeared mom while pretending it's totally fine I somehow feel even MORE distant from my dad who lives only a ten minute walk across town' thing? Making 'help charlie!' into your whole Reason for Being?!"

Vaggie: "Hold on, I wasn't in the best headspace when that slipped out-"

Charlie: "OBJECTION! Clear admission of truth!"

Vaggie: "-fuck."

Charlie: "And did you let me be there for you then, when your head was in a bad place? Or did you pull a 'I want to be alone' card?"

Vaggie: "I just needed- I didn't want to say anything else stupid."

Charlie: "Oh so you didn't wanna be dramatic about it, huh?"

Vaggie: "Yes- NO!"

Charlie: "Like how I can be dramatic?"

Vaggie: "It's not the same-"

Charlie: "Do YOU like being there for ME when I'M in a really bad no good and sad headspace?"

Vaggie: "You know I do."

Charlie: "Even when I go sit in a corner my own because I still can't believe there's someone in my life who'll want to come looking for me- who I don't need to apologize for being sad or 'dramatic' around- and who says she's HAPPY to be worrying about me?"

Vaggie: "Sweetie I am happy to worry about you."

Charlie: "Ah-HA! But I don't get to do that for you! YOU want me to be sad around YOU-"

Charlie: "Wait that sounds weird, uhh- oh whatever-"

Charlie: "Point is, I don't get to see YOU being sad around ME! And no, anger don't count! You like being grumpy! Grumpy is active! It feels productive and that's why you hate feeling SAD!"

Vaggie: "You just said you hide it from me too. Even after three years of being together."

Charlie: "Oh no really? Does that bother you???"

Vaggie: "It worries me!"

Charlie: "Okay then!!! EXACTLY! We both need therapy."

Vaggie: "...."

Vaggie: "That's fair."

Charlie: (preening) "Thank you."

Vaggie: “How the fuck did you not win that case up in Heaven.”

Charlie: "Angels are jerks and their minds are hard to change. Not my angel though. Mine is great~"

Vaggie: "Hold that thought until after I've asked this one question, sweetie."

Charlie: "Ask away!"

Vaggie: "How do we do therapy."

Charlie: "....."

Charlie: "H-"

Vaggie: "Without using Husk and alcohol. We are not paying him enough to deal with my angelic shit."

Charlie: "We could give him a raise- how much do you think-?"

Vaggie: "Not even if we gave him the hotel, babe."

Charlie: "Oh."

Vaggie: "So. What does sober therapy look like?"

Charlie: "Hmm....."

Charlie: "......."

Charlie: "Next question."

Vaggie: "Do you wanna just start off with a hug."

Charlie: "I want to pat myself on the back for having such a smart, supportive girlfriend- but you'll have do to it for me instead. While we hug."

-phone call time-

Carmilla: "You have five seconds before I hang up. Talk.

Charlie: "Carmilla, hi!!! It's about Vaggie-"

Carmilla: "No."

Charlie: "Oh ok! I just thought-"

Carmilla: "No."

Charlie: "-you seemed to really care about her, and maybe see a bit of yourself in her, maaaaybe you'd have some tips on-"

Carmilla: "No. Take her to Rosie's. Go with her and STAY with her."

Charlie: "Rosie- OF COURSE Rosie's! Right! I will!!"

Carmilla: "Don't take it personally when she tries to escape."

Charlie: "When she whats?

Carmilla: "The brooding silently in a chair and refusing to talk will also pass. Give her space. But don't leave her."

Charlie: "No no I won't, but why would she try esc-"

Charlie: "Oh Vaggie! No, I'm just on the phone with Carmilla-"

Vaggie: "WHAT."

Charlie: "-we're talking therapy ideas for you! And-"

Vaggie: (muffled swearing)

Charlie: "-she says Rosie's might be a good idea! You know, like how Alastor took there so I could talk everything out with someone finally, well I guess and also to get a cannibal army, but Rosie helping me with the you issue by laying my heart bare to her was the main good thing from all that, so-"

Charlie: "-VAGGIE GET BACK HERE!"

Carmilla: "Condolences on her having wings again. Good luck"

Carmilla: (hangs up to the sound of frantic flapping and yelling)

Zestial: "...."

Zestial: "...toss'ed to the very wolves... truly, that was wretched of thee."

Carmilla: "I owe them nothing."

Zestial: "And what of thyself?"

Carmilla: "Why, were my disinterested actions of a moment ago not self-serving enough for you?"

Zestial: "Thou art denying much in thine distance from her."

Carmilla: "I already have two daughters-"

Zestial: "As thou sayst."

Carmilla: "You are not my therapist, Zestial."

Zestial: "Nay- would that thou should'st yet find one, old friend."

Carmilla: "Be quiet."

Zestial: "Shan't~"

[stevie-petey]

episode two: the weirdo on maple street

Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp. “Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your review sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

Summary: you use your limited psych knowledge to help a bald girl, you force jonathan to accept $20 and he's later an ass to you, steve doesn't know what a "missing" poster looks like, and it's really hard being a single mother to now four kids.

Rating: general, but there's cursing as usual and steve being... well, steve - but hes still season 1 steve so give him some time

Warnings: cursing, fem!reader, use of y/n, and there's more angst in this chapter with some fighting between reader and jonathan, so fair warning.

Words: 10.1k (the longest thing ive ever written)

Before you swing in: i'm almost done with chapter 4, so here's a sweet treat as i cram for exams lmao. some housekeeping: should i do a tag list ? i got a few questions about it, so pls let me know soldiers. also, i feel the need to clarify that i adore nancy but for plot reasons - reader and her don't really get along (but they def will later, trust me). season 1 nancy and steve are just so silly. anyways, i hope y'all enjoy this loooong chapter. the rest definitely aren't as lengthy due to plot, but wow. i amazed myself. carry on !

-

Your jeans drip onto the Wheeler’s carpet, and you’ve definitely left a wet imprint on the couch cushion beneath you. The other boys are dripping as well, but all their attention is on the girl in front of them. 

After finding her in the woods, your motherly instincts kicked in, immediately removing your coat to place on her and gently ushering her to your bike and demanding that the boys go back to Mike’s. Your mom is home, so your house was out of the question, and it’s always been easy sneaking into the Wheeler’s, anyways. 

Once you all had made it back, you guided the girl onto the couch and sat next to her. You refuse to let her go too far from you, having no idea where she came from or why, but regardless you know she’s too young for any of it to have been good. 

Which leads you to now: wearily watching the boys stare at the girl as if she’s some science experiment, asking her a million questions a second.

Bless them and their little prepubescent minds. 

Lucas reaches out to touch her, and before you can nudge him away, Mike slaps at his hand. “Stop it! You’re freaking her out!”

“She’s freaking me out!” Lucas retaliates, which honestly? That’s fair. The girl hasn’t said anything yet, even after your multiple attempts to get her to do so. No matter how much you try, you can’t coax a response out of her. 

“I bet she’s deaf.” Your brother offers, suddenly clapping his hands to scare her, making both you and her flinch. “Not deaf…”

You roll your eyes at him. “Guys, she’s probably just really scared right now. We should give her some space,” you look at both Lucas and Dustin, “and time,” now you look at Mike. The three boys deflate a bit. 

“She’s probably cold,” Mike says after a moment of silence, and you nod at his suggestion. Seeing your agreement, he walks over to a basket of clothes and takes out some pajamas.

While Mike is away, thunder rumbles and the girl jumps, unconsciously getting closer to you. You wrap an arm around her reassuringly, making note that she doesn’t like loud noises. If anything, she’s showing more and more signs of trauma response, which makes you uneasy. You remember Hopper saying something about Will being in danger. What are the odds that this little girl was running from something as well?

“Here, these are clean.” Mike’s return breaks you from your thoughts, and you take the clothes from him and stand up. You thank him, then offer your hand to the girl. She looks at you uncertainly. 

“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “Let’s go get you dressed in some warm clothes. I’m right here, sweetheart.” 

“She’s super nice.” Dustin says, trying to help.

Lucas adds, “Yeah, you can trust her.” 

“She’s alright.” Is all Mike offers.

You give them all an appreciative smile, even if Mike is being a bit of an ass, and then you feel a small, cold hand wrap around yours. The girl stands up, looking around shyly, and you lead her to the bathroom. When you go to close the door, she stops you.

Mike has followed, seeing the interaction. “You don’t want it closed?”

Her voice is quiet, solemn. “No,”

You and Mike look at each other, and he voices what you’re thinking. “So you can speak.”

He looks excited about this new information, and you shove his head out of the doorway. She needs to get dressed. “We’ll leave the door cracked, okay?”

She nods at you, and you stand guard outside the door. It’s not that you don’t trust the boys, but Mike has only known her for ten minutes and he’s already been nicer to her than you’ve ever seen him with anyone else. The only other person he’s this soft spoken to is Will, so you’re protective of her. 

You can hear the boys discussing tonight’s events from the living area while the girl gets dressed. They sound scared, and a part of you can’t blame them. While you’re fairly certain that the girl isn’t dangerous, it’s still a creepy situation. Once again, Hopper’s new theory surrounding Will floats through your mind. This all can’t be some coincidence. 

Sighing, you approach the boys and catch a bit of the conversation. 

“Our houses become Alcatraz.” You hear Lucas saying, and you figure they’ve finally pieced together that there’s no way any of you can tell anyone about the girl. None of you were supposed to be out tonight. As much as you know you should tell an adult, you also need to be able to help Jonathan with finding Will. If your mom locks the house down, you’re doomed. 

“Lucas is right,” the boys turn to you. “We can’t go to anyone about this just yet, but I also don’t think it’s a good idea to hide her. She’s been through something terrible, it’s obvious. Tonight, I say she gets some rest. We can figure out what to do later.” 

Mike nods, for once agreeing wholeheartedly with you. “She’ll sleep here tonight-”

Dustin’s eyes widen in horror, “You’re letting a girl-”

You clamp your hand over his mouth, motioning for Mike to continue.

“Thanks, Y/N. In the morning, she sneaks around my house, goes to the front door and rings my doorbell. My mom will answer and know exactly what to do. She’ll send her back to Pennhurst,”

They think she’s from Pennhurst? You think, but don’t verbalize it.

“Or wherever she comes from. We’ll be totally in the clear! And tomorrow night, we go back out, and this time we find Will.”

You gotta hand it to Mike Wheeler, he may be a pain in the ass, but he’s a smart pain in the ass. The plan is pretty sound, so long as he follows through with it. However, it’s him following through with it that leaves you a bit unsure. 

He looks at you for approval, and you hesitantly nod. “It’s a pretty good plan, Wheeler. So long as you stick to it.” 

Lucas and Dustin nod along with you, there’s an unspoken sense of doubt that Mike will actually be able to turn the girl over to his mom. Then she walks out, dressed now in some of Nancy’s old clothes. She draws into herself when you all turn to her, shy. You walk over and offer your hand again, which she accepts. 

“Mike, go find her something to sleep on. Dustin, we gotta go soon before mom notices we’re gone.”

Both boys comply, with Mike searching for a sleeping bag and Dustin packing up his stuff. You crouch down next to the girl, so that you’re face to face, and give her a warm smile. “It was lovely meeting you. My name is Y/N, I hope Mike over there doesn’t give you a hard time tonight.” 

Mike flips you off, having heard you. “If he’s annoying,” you lean in close to her now, whispering in her ear. “You have my permission to pinch him.”

The girl giggles, finally relaxing a bit, and you warm with pride. She’ll be okay, she seems like a very resilient girl and you’ll oddly miss her. 

The two other boys are waiting for you upstairs. You all wish Mrs. Wheeler a good night and head out. Thankfully the rain has now stopped, so the bike ride home isn’t bad. You stop at Lucas’ turn to make sure he gets home safely before finally arriving at your place. As Dustin begins pedaling into your driveway, you don’t follow. 

“I’m going to go see Jonathan, he didn’t answer my calls earlier and I just…”

Dustin waves at you, not even bothering to turn around. “Yeah yeah, go see your boyfriend. If mom asks, you’re asleep.” 

“He’s not my boyfriend-”

“Are you seriously going to argue with me after I offered to cover for you?”

Your brother gives you a pointed look, and you know he’s right. “Touché.” 

Dustin goes to leave, but you quickly grab at his jacket. “Before I forget, swear to me that you’ll keep me updated if anything weird happens, okay?”

He nods at you, knowing better than to argue, and gives you a mock salute as he heads inside. 

The living room light is on when you arrive at the Byers home, despite the late hour, but you aren’t surprised. You knock on the door and wait. When no one comes, you knock again, a bit louder this time. After another few moments, the door swings open. 

Jonathan has a finger over his lips in a shushing manner, motioning to Joyce who is passed out on the couch. You nod, letting him know you understand. The two of you go to his room and when he closes the door, you finally get a good look at him. He looks worse than he did earlier, the bags under his eyes have somehow gotten darker. His hair is a mess, his eyes bloodshot. 

“You’re soaked.” Jonathan says. 

“Yeah,” he doesn’t want to talk about it yet, so you play along. “Got caught in the rain. Are some of my spare clothes still in your bottom drawer?”

He nods at you, going over and grabbing a t-shirt and pajama pants for you. You accept them gratefully and excuse yourself to the bathroom to change. Your bones are cold, the rain seemingly having penetrated the layers of your skin. In the mirror you see that your own eyes are bloodshot; you don’t look much better than Jonathan, really.

When you return Jonathan is sitting on his bed, so you join him. It’s silent between you, all you can hear is his breathing. You stare straight ahead, so does he, and you wait. You’ve only seen Jonathan like this a handful of times, where the stress and anxiety becomes too much for him. He shuts down, draws into himself, and all you can do is wait for him to return to you; he always does. 

“Mom got a call tonight.” Jonathan’s voice is hoarse, and he looks frail. You wonder if he ever did end up making the spaghetti you prepared for him.

“Who was it?”

He swallows heavily, taking a moment to respond. “She said it was Will.”

“Will?” You look at him now, searching for any signs on his face, his voice lacks emotion. By the way he stares blankly ahead, as if he’s not really present with you right now, you know that it hadn’t been Will on the other end. 

“She started freaking out, going ballistic,” his voice cracks a bit, so you take a chance and reach for his hand. He lets you take it, giving you a squeeze, before continuing. “She was screaming, begging whoever it was to give Will back.” 

Jonathan pauses again. You don’t say anything, because no words will help. He’s never been the type for comforting words, anyways. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “It wasn’t him. Lightning struck and our phone got charred. It wasn’t Will.”

Now it’s your turn to squeeze Jonathan’s hand. He doesn’t deserve any of this. None of the Byers do. Out of the entire town, they’re the family who deserves the most that life can give. Will, too good. Jonathan, too selfless. Joyce, too loving. They’re the best damn people you know. 

“I tried calming her down, but she was hysterical. She’s only asleep right now because she worked herself up too much and passed out. I’m worried she-'' Jonathan shakes his head, as if ashamed by his own words. “I’m worried she’s going crazy, Y/N.”

He’s quiet again, but you can tell he’s about to break. His knee is now bouncing up and down and his breathing has become slightly ragged. Everything from today has been building up, it was only a matter of time before he snapped. You’re also worried about Joyce, a part of you skeptical to believe her, but the little girl you found tonight in the rain? Something was definitely weird about Will’s disappearance, but you’re hesitant to tell Jonathan just yet. For all you know, she could’ve simply been a girl who got lost and will be returned to her family tomorrow. 

You don’t want to worry Jonathan any more than you need to.

“I should’ve been there for him. I shouldn’t have taken that shift.” He gasps out, and like a dam the tears begin to fall. You’re quick to pull him into a hug and he crumbles into you. His body shakes with violent sobs and he clutches at you as if afraid you’ll leave.

“You can’t blame yourself.” You whisper, stroking a hand through his hair. He cries even harder, the force of it almost enough to knock you over, so you situate yourself so that you’re fully on the bed, laying against his pillows, with Jonathan crying into your chest beside you. 

“He’s g-gone.”

“We’ll find him, I promise.” Your own tears threaten to come out, but you force them down. You have to be here for him, he needs you. The only other time Jonathan has so openly cried was when Lonnie left years ago. He’s been holding everything in since then, all those years of looking after his family, taking care of his brother, getting harassed by assholes like Tommy Hagan. 

Neither of you say anything else, and you know that Jonathan needs to let it all out. You soothe him as best as you can, running a hand through his hair, stroking his back, reassuring him over and over again that none of this is his fault until your own voice becomes hoarse. You don’t know how long you stay like this, but sometime during the night Jonathan finally falls asleep, and you follow shortly after him. 

— 

Sunlight streams through Jonathan’s spare bed sheet that he’s pinned over his window, serving as a makeshift curtain, waking you up. You stretch, careful not to wake the boy beside you, and crawl out of the bed. You’re antsy, already knowing that today will be another long day. After grabbing some clothes from your designated drawer and getting dressed, you head into the kitchen and start making a quick breakfast. Just as you’re finishing up, Jonathan comes out of his room, dressed and ready for the day.

Neither of you say anything about the night prior, instead silently working around each other in the kitchen with years of practiced ease. He hands you the salt shaker right when you need it, you grab the pieces of toast that he popped into the toaster, the two of you never once get in each other’s way. You get deja vu, remembering all the times you’ve slept over with Dustin, you and Jonathan making the boys breakfast while they slept in. 

The only indication that last night really happened is a forehead kiss from Jonathan, his lips soft against your head. Out of the two of you, you’re definitely the touchy one, so it’s always a nice surprise when he initiates the touch, and his forehead kisses were a welcome rarity. 

When the plates have been made, Joyce gets up from the couch and stumbles over to the table. You quickly help her sit down, and for the first time since Will’s disappearance you’re able to really look at her. She looks like Jonathan, only worse. The bags under her eyes are darker, her hair is more matted, and you believe she’s still wearing the same shirt you saw her in the night that Will went missing. 

“All right, mom. Breakfast is ready.” Jonathan tries to place her plate on the table, but Joyce stops him, worried about the poster of Will. 

Jonathan gives you a look and you run over to the table, grabbing the poster so that he can set the plate down. 

Joyce gives you a tired smile, “Thank you, Y/N, but I can’t eat.”

“I just need you to eat, mom.” 

“Jonathan’s right, Mrs. Byers. You need to eat, we gotta keep your strength up.” You feel like you’re talking to a child, but in a way, you suppose you are. 

The woman lights a cigarette instead, and faintly you wonder how many she’s had within the last 48 hours; you’ll need to wash your clothes when you get home. She begins to ask Jonathan to go to Xerox to make as many copies of Will’s poster as possible. You sit down in front of her, silently eating, knowing there’s no place for you in this conversation. 

It’s not that the Byers are ashamed that they have little money, but you know it’s rude to listen in. They make do with what they have, and Jonathan has never felt embarrassed with you knowing it. 

“I don’t want you to go alone,” Joyce says, causing you to speak up. 

“I’ll go with him and help hang them up, it’s no problem.” 

Jonathan turns to you. “You have that chem test, remember? I’m not letting you miss that.” 

“Shit…” you bury your face into your hands. You completely forgot about that after finding the little girl last night and dealing with Jonathan. You’ve heard about how impossible the chem exams were, and science has never been your best subject. That was Dustin’s thing, your thing was more humanities. 

“You’re the smartest person I know, you’ll ace the exam,” Jonathan reassures you before turning to his mom. “And I’ll handle the posters, it’s okay.” 

Joyce has been lost in thought during your conversation with her son, only beginning to speak again when she’s asked how many copies will be efficient. Once she starts speaking again, it’s almost like she’s physically unable to stop. She begins to ramble, finally exposing the crumbling woman that you’ve only heard about, now understanding Jonathan’s fears for her. 

“Mom-”

“If we… ten cents-”

“Mom!” Jonathan raises his voice a bit, now grabbing at his mother’s hand. “You can’t get like this, okay?”

The look on Joyce’s face kills you. She looks so lost, ashamed of her behavior, and you cast your head down; this is a private matter. Joyce profusely apologizes to him and all Jonathan can do is gently reassure her that it’s okay. All of this is okay. 

Their tender moment is interrupted by knocking on the front door, revealing Hopper on the other side. His presence makes you uneasy, so you stay in the kitchen and begin to clean up with Jonathan while Joyce attacks him with questions. 

“A little bit of trust here, alright? We’ve been searching all night.” You hear the cop say. Your hand clenches the sponge, rubbing a bit harder at the plate you’re cleaning. If they’ve been searching all night, why are they here now?

“Went all the way to Cartersville.” Ever since Will disappeared, you’ve been building a wall of hope within you that he’ll be found safe and sound. However, with every passing day, with every new situation that occurs, you can feel a piece of the wall collapse. You can feel it now; the search party went all the way to Cartersville.

“And?” Joyce asks. 

“Nothing.” The cry that Joyce lets out causes you to drop the plate you’ve been cleaning, shattering on the floor. You curse, immediately bending down to pick up the pieces. Luckily it didn’t shatter into a million bits, but you still feel horrible for breaking one of their dishes. 

Jonathan bends down as well to help, and the commotion catches Hopper’s attention. He sees you scrambling to clean up the mess and sighs with annoyance. “Does she live here or something?” 

You and Jonathan look at each other, a slight smile on your faces, and only respond to Hopper with a synchronized shrug. You basically do live at the Byers’ at this point, you have been for years now. It was the same for Jonathan: if you weren’t at his house, he was at yours. 

Joyce wipes some of her tears away. “Y/N is family, she’s here to help.” 

Hopper ignores this, instead bringing up the phone call from the night before. Joyce leads him over to the phone, and you join them once you’ve collected the remaining pieces of broken glass. When you see the phone, you can’t help but gasp. Jonathan’s words from last night are accurate, the phone is charred. 

“Storm barbecued this pretty good.” Hopper says.

Joyce waves her arms out, disbelieving. “The storm? You’re saying that that’s not… weird?”

“No, it’s weird.” Hopper begins, but you cut him off. 

“It’s really weird.”

He glares at you. You mumble a quick sorry and back away a bit while Jonathan asks if the call can be traced. Hopper focuses back on the situation at hand, informing him that it isn’t possible and then questions if Joyce even heard Will in the first place. The question makes you cringe, knowing it’ll only make Joyce more agitated and hurt.

“Flo said you just heard some breathing.” 

It’s the way he phrases the question, the way he emphasizes the word “just”, that bothers you. This woman has just lost her kid, what kind of mother wouldn’t know her own child’s breathing?

“Even if it was ‘just’ some breathing, I’d know it was my brother. Will is her son, she’d know better than anyone.” You find yourself saying. The words weren’t meant to leave your mouth, but the appreciative look Joyce casts your way outweighs the fear from Hopper’s glare. 

“It was him. It was Will, and he was scared. Then something-”

“It was probably just a prank call,” Hopper tries to reason with her, causing you to roll your eyes at him. You respect the guy, you do, but could he at least attempt to listen to Joyce?

You excuse yourself before you say anything else, heading back into the kitchen to collect the two posters you and Jonathan made. While the others talk, you grab his things and pack his bag for him. You know he’ll probably skip school today to get the copies done in time, maybe keep an eye on his mom, so you make a mental note to inform him later that you’ll help with putting the fliers up the second you’re done with the exam. He needs someone there for him. 

When you’ve grabbed the last of Jonathan’s things, Lonnie’s name is mentioned. You freeze, standing right outside the hall from them, only a wall between you. If Lonnie is somehow involved in this, you’ll kill him yourself. He was always cruel to Will, even when you were around to witness it. You hate him more than anything in this damn world. 

“It’s been long enough, I’m having him checked out.” Hopper declares, storming out of the house. 

You count to three in your head, and the second you get to three, Jonathan is following after Hopper. You knew he would, hating his father the most out of everyone who has had the displeasure of meeting him. You follow behind him, heading outside to talk to the Chief. 

“Hey, Hopper. Let me go.” 

Hopper takes a drag from his cigarette, facing the two of you. “I’m sorry?”

“To Lonnie’s,” Jonathan says, looking at you for backup.

You do your best to try. “If Will’s there, that means he probably ran away. Cops will scare the poor boy, he’ll think he’s in trouble.”

“And he’ll hide. He’s good at hiding.” Jonathan finishes for you. 

Hopper stares at you both, inhaling more smoke from his cigarette and blowing it in your direction with a curious look in his eyes. “You two are sickening to be near, you know that?”

You and Jonathan share an annoyed look. A kid is missing, and you still have to clarify that you aren’t together? “It’s not like that,” Jonathan says.

“Sure, you know cops are good at detecting lies,” Hopper approaches him now, grabbing his shoulders. For a brief second you’re afraid he’ll hurt him. “And we’re also good at finding, okay? Stay here with your mom. She needs you.” 

Hopper punches at Jonathan’s shoulder before facing you. “And you,” you brace for whatever he’s about to say, knowing you probably aren’t his favorite person at the moment. He points at Jonathan, “He needs you.”

His words hang in the air several minutes after he’s gone. You glance at Jonathan, but he doesn’t meet your eye and instead he goes back inside. You sigh, following after him because it’s what you do. Hopper’s right, he needs you. 

Jonathan’s in the living room, speaking softly to his mom when you enter. You don’t disturb them but rather snatch Jonathan’s keys from the counter and wait for him by the door. Like Joyce said, Xerox opens in about thirty minutes and you have a chem exam to take. If you leave now, you’ll be able to make the copies with him and be back in time before school.

The ride to Xerox is tense, you know Jonathan is upset that he’s been sidelined by Hopper. You also know that he’s torn between wanting to help his mom and staying out of his house as much as possible. If it weren’t for your god damn chem test you’d offer to skip and hide out at your place, but you can’t. Jonathan wouldn’t let you risk your future for him (even though you would, in a heartbeat, a million times over). 

The man at Xerox gives Jonathan a look of pity, clearly recognizing Will’s picture on the poster. It’s your favorite photo of him, smiling with all his teeth and happy as can be. From what you’ve heard, the whole town has been conducting search parties for him. Jonathan ignores the look and asks for the 200 copies to be made. 

It’s just you and him in the store as you wait for the prints to be done. The guy said it’d be about a ten minute wait so you wander around the store. Jonathan clearly is in a no talking mood, so you occupy yourself with whatever you find. You wish you’d brought your backpack to Jonathan’s last night so you could at least study a bit while waiting, but you didn’t. It’d be a miracle if you pass this exam. 

Jonathan wanders around as well, so you give a quick look around and find the employee. He’s standing over the printer when you approach. “I’d like to pay for the copies, please.”

“You can pay after they’re done-”

“No, I can’t let him see,” you point over to Jonathan, who is now looking at some stationary. “Please, just let me pay now so he can yell at me later.” 

The guy gives you a shrug, clearly not getting paid enough to care. “Okay, it’ll be $20. Just leave the money on the counter over there, the prints should be done soon.” 

You nod and do as you’re told, leaving the $20 bill on the counter while Jonathan isn’t looking. He can kill you later, right now you want to make up for not being able to help with hanging them up. There’s literally hundreds to get through, he can’t do that all alone. 

When the posters are done and Jonathan collects them, you wish the worker a good day and then wrap your arms around him and use all your strength to drag your friend into the car. He doesn't fight back at first, too confused by your actions, and you’re almost out the door before he sees the man pocket the money and wave at you. The dots connect in his head and Jonathan begins to fight against you. 

“Y/N, let me pay-”

“Nope. Not happening!”

“We both know I’m stronger-”

“Debatable, honestly, seeing as how we’re almost to your car.”

“Let go!” He tugs harshly as his arm, which you’ve got a secure hold on, causing you to stumble a bit. 

You plant your feet more firmly against the ground and use all your weight to pull the boy forward. You’re a few feet away from the car, just one more solid pull should do the trick. “Stop fighting this, Byers. I’ve already paid-”

“Which you shouldn’t have!”

“Keep fighting and drop all the posters, I dare you.”

Jonathan looks down at the posters in his spare hand, realizing that you’re right. If he doesn’t give in soon, they’ll topple over. He lets out an agitated groan, throwing his head back, and then marches over to the car to unlock it and fling himself into the driver’s seat. “Just get in.” 

You do a small victory dance and hop in the car.

“I hate you.” 

“You love me.” 

He hesitates only for a moment. “God, I hate that I do.” 

You smile, buckling your seatbelt. Jonathan pulls out of the parking lot and begins the drive to school. He’s less tense this time, at least. The small little wrestling match between the two of you seemingly did some good, then. 

When you pull up to school, you once again apologize to Jonathan for being unable to help. He waves you off, understanding. 

“It’s okay, I promise. I can’t have you failing out of high school because of me.”

You roll your eyes. “One test won’t make me become a high school dropout, Jonathan.”

He ruffles your hair, which you slap him for. “You can join me after, okay? Good luck, bug.” 

“Fine, but I’m taking some posters with me so I can hang up on my way to my locker.” 

“Deal.”

You run to your locker, flinging it open and letting out a sigh of relief when you spot your chem cards. Honestly, you really should’ve prepared better for your little sleepover at the Byers. You glance at the watch on your wrist, noting that you have roughly fifteen minutes to memorize all the elements in the periodic table as well as some chemistry definitions. 

Just peachy. 

You tie your hair up so you can focus better and grab the note cards. If you review the cards as you walk to class, you can save at least three minutes of studying time. You tuck the few remaining posters of Will under your arm and begin to head to your class, getting absorbed in all the elements and words. As you’re skimming a card about protein being K, you run into Nancy and Barb, who also seem to have the same idea as you.

“Oh, hey Y/N.” Nancy greets you, Barb waving to you as well. 

They’re being nice, so you try to make conversation. “Studying for Kaminsky’s test?”

They nod at you and Nancy sighs, “Yeah, his exams are the worst.”

You laugh a bit, for once on the same page as her. “I know. I spent last night at Jonathan’s, I completely forgot about the test until this morning. I’m screwed.”

Barb raises her eyebrows at you while Nancy suddenly looks sad. “Oh, I’m sorry about Will. I know you and him are close.” 

“Yeah, it must be hard taking care of Jonathan right now.” Barb voices. 

You give them both an awkward smile. “Thanks, I guess? It’s just, there’s still hope, so…” 

The three of you stand there as your voice trails off. It’s painfully awkward. While you’ve known Nancy since you were 12, and at some point you even called her a close friend of yours, the second you entered high school she became distant. You never blamed her for it, people simply grow up and grow apart. Now you only ever interact with her if it concerns the boys. 

Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp.

“Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your cheat sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.”

You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

His friends laugh, but Steve has a bit of heart to look guilty, so you count that as something. His shame doesn’t last long though and the goofy and sweet boy who made sure you were okay after almost hitting you with his car is gone. 

Steve plays off the situation as if it were nothing. “Let me make it up to you, Henderson. I know you’re probably stressed out of your mind dealing with boyfriend troubles because of Bill-”

“His name is Will,” you grit out, remembering now why you dislike Steve so much. Everything was about impressing his friends, and while you can sympathize with him, it doesn’t give him an excuse to be an asshole. 

“Right, Will. Anyways, I was just about to inform Nance over here that my dad has left town on a conference and my mom’s gone with him, ‘cause, ya know, she doesn’t trust him.” 

“Good call,” Tommy says, and you glare at him. 

Steve carries on. “So, are you guys in?”

“In for what?” Nancy asks. 

“No parents, a big house?” Carol says, as if Nancy is a giant idiot.

You feel bad for her being treated so poorly by her boyfriend’s friends, so you lean in and whisper, “A party, Nancy.” Then you look at Steve. “And no, I’ll pass.” 

Steve pouts. “Can’t leave loverboy alone for a couple hours?”

You scoff, shoving the poster against his chest, using more force than probably necessary, but the satisfying grunt he lets out pleases you. “If I didn’t know you I’d say you sound jealous. Unfortunately, I do know you, and that’s exactly why I’m not interested.”

“Meow,” says Carol as she and Tommy laugh. 

You ignore her and push past the group to get to class. You’ve wasted enough time, you have to study. Steve lets you, hurt by your words, but tries to play it off, instead focusing his attention on Jonathan up ahead hanging up some posters. You both see him at the same time and as you start to approach him, you hear Steve and his group mock him. 

“God, that’s depressing.” Steve says, and you’ve never wanted to hit a man more than you do right now. 

You glance at Nancy, trying to convey your disappointment in her. She’s a nice girl, she shouldn’t be with an idiot like Harrington. Who the hell makes fun of a guy with a missing brother? Nancy doesn’t meet your eye, which pleases you. She should feel guilty. 

As you near Jonathan, Nancy calls after you to wait up. You listen, mostly because you’re surprised she even followed, and together you walk up to him. “Hey, bee. I thought you’d be long gone by now.” 

Jonathan looks up at your voice, surprised when he sees Nancy next to you. He gives you a look that you conclude is a what is she doing here? look and you can only shrug as if to say I have no clue how I ended up in this situation. 

Nancy doesn’t see this exchange. “Hey,”

“Hey,” Jonathan responds, still confused. 

Nancy looks at you uncertainly, but you refuse to leave. Screw your exam, if she even considers voicing her boyfriend’s opinions to Jonathan then you’ll personally see that she fails alongside you. “I just… I wanted to say, you know… I’m sorry, about everything.” 

Oh, she’s being nice. You’re still unimpressed, but Jonathan motions to you to stop staring her down, so you reluctantly listen. 

“Everyone’s thinking about you.”

You all turn towards Steve and his group, who are clearly listening in, and you snort at her words. “Right, obviously.” 

“Y/N.” Jonathan warns. 

“Sorry.” 

“It sucks.” Nancy continues, and you have to give her some credit. You’re being a blatant bitch, but she’s still trying. You feel a bit bad now, which honestly makes you dislike her a bit more. Damn morals. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, he’s a smart kid.” 

The bell rings, ending Nancy’s little monologue. “I have to go, chemistry test. Y/N, want to walk together?” 

She really makes it impossible to be a bitch to her. “Sure, just give me a second.”

You lean close to Jonathan and lower your voice. “Good luck with your dad, bee.” 

“How did you know I’d go-”

“Because of course you would. Now go, give him hell for me, will ya?”

Jonathan nods, relieved you aren’t pushing the topic. You know that Lonnie is a sore topic for him, for the entire Byers family, really. You only knew Lonnie for a year or so before Joyce left him, but you’ll never forget his spiteful words and the bruises that Jonathan tried to hide from you. He needs to do this alone, father and son. 

You see Nancy watching, and just to spite her you kiss Jonathan’s cheek, relishing in the fact that she looks away, and you wish him luck once again before following her to class. 

The test isn’t as bad as you’d feared, and the rest of the day goes by with relative ease. You don’t see much of Steve and his group and you’re thankful for that. Nancy also keeps her distance, no longer attempting to be all buddy buddy with you. A part of you feels bad about that, because honestly the thought of someone thinking you hate them makes you feel physically ill, but as long as Nancy is with someone like Steve, there’s not much you can do about that. 

After school you stop by all of Jonathan’s classes and collect the work he’s missed over the last few days; he has enough to worry about, so you figured you could help do some assignments for him. It’s nothing unusual, truth to be told. There was a time you were out for two weeks straight due to the flu one year and Jonathan did every one of your assignments, so it’s about time you returned the favor. 

Once you have what you need, you hang up the remaining flyers in your bag and begin your journey to work. You’ve used up all of your sick days helping the Byers, and while Mrs. Waters has insisted on letting you have more time off, you figured the distraction would be good for you. Jonathan will want some space after confronting his dad, and as much as you hated Lonnie, something told you he had nothing to do with Will. 

Just when your shift is almost done, your coworker, this young kid named Alex who you’re honestly surprised can legally work, informs you that your mom is on the phone and wants to speak with you. You stack the remaining books in your hands and thank him, walking over to pick up the call.

“Hey, mom. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, sweetie! I was just calling to tell ya that Dusty is at the Wheeler’s tonight for dinner, so my plan for ribs won’t work without him. I was wondering if darling Johnny could feed you tonight? I know the two of you have that little sneaky food game.” 

Your posture, once slumped over and uninterested, now straightens out. Why the hell is Dustin having dinner at the Wheeler’s? They never do that. “Uh, sure mom that won’t be an issue.”

Your mom lets out a sigh of relief. “Bless that Jonathan! I’ve always liked him…”

Your mom may be the biggest Jonathan supporter you’ve ever met. “Yeah, he’s your favorite. I know,” you shift a bit to catch Alex’s attention, mouthing to him that you need to leave work early. “Hey, did Dustin by chance say how long he’ll be at the Wheeler’s? I can swing by and pick him up after my shift.” 

“Oh, I think he’s staying the night there. He mentioned something about Mike not finishing his part of their little science project?”

They’re calling the little girl a science project now? Boys are so typical. “Oh, I see. Well, I gotta get back to work, mom. I’ll be home late tonight.”

Your mom wishes you goodbye and warns you not to be out too late. You hum, already trying to figure out the quickest route to the Wheeler’s house. You can’t say you’re surprised that Mike didn’t follow the plan, but you also can’t say you were prepared for this either. 

Alex comes back with your boss and you quickly make up a lie about not feeling well. Mrs. Waters gives you a pitying look and tells you to go. You’re incredibly grateful for her, she’s like a grandmother to you and has always been so kind. 

You quickly bike to Mike’s house, going over a grand speech in your head for the boys. Logistically speaking, you’re not sure if they can even harbor the little girl in his basement. Would it be kidnapping? Could kids even kidnap other kids? You aren’t sure and you definitely aren’t willing to find out. 

You arrive at the house just as Nancy and Barb are pulling out of the driveway, presumably to Steve’s grand house party. They wave at you awkwardly and you don’t have it in you to wave back. You park your bike next to their doorstep and knock on the door. 

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Mrs. Wheeler asks after opening the door. 

“Oh, I was just wondering if I could hang out with the boys tonight? Jonathan’s busy and I promised Dustin I’d help with their campaign.”

Mrs. Wheeler cocks her head at you. “But I thought there was a special assembly at the school for Will? Nancy and Barb just left for it.” 

You feel your blood boil a bit. There was no assembly for Will at your school, and it was really damn low of Nancy to use his disappearance as a cover story for her stupid party. She’s known Will since he was practically a baby. You have no idea how someone could be so unaffected by a missing child, let alone one who has been at your house every damn weekend for years now. 

“Oh, that!” You force yourself to remain calm; there isn’t time to snitch on Nancy, Mrs. Wheeler would only have more questions for you. “Yeah, I’m, uh, skipping it. Jonathan doesn’t want to go, so after he’s back from his errands I’m heading over to his place to, you know, comfort him?” 

The woman stares at you for a second, trying to determine if there are any lies to your words. You’ve never been the best liar, but being the oldest Henderson child has unfortunately prepared you for being quick on your feet when needed. 

“Well, come on then. They boys just went downstairs, and if you can please remind them to bring the plate of food back up here I’d really appreciate it.”

You thank Mrs. Wheeler and let yourself in. Her words have all but solidified your suspicions: Mike kept the girl. 

When you descend the basement steps, it’s almost comical how the kids scramble to hide the girl like little cockroaches. They run around and Dustin screams something about covering her before the poor girl is being manhandled into a sheet as Mike screams at Lucas and Dustin to calm down. 

“Guys! It’s just me! Jesus!” You shout, shoving past Mike to rush over to the girl and free her from the sheets. She looks more frightened than usual, but at least she’s alive. 

“God, why am I always the one you push?”

You shush Mike, smoothing back the girl’s hair and offering her a reassuring smile. “Remember me, sweetheart?”

The girl nods and softly says, “Y/N.”

“Very good. I’m going to scream at my brother real quick, so why don’t you cover your ears for me so you don’t get too frightened?” 

“Wait, what-”

The minute her ears are covered, you turn to Dustin and begin screaming. “Are you brain dead and not understand the words ‘tell me if anything weird happens’ or do you simply lack the appropriate empathy needed for a concerned sister?”

Dustin ducks his head in shame. “Y/N, look-”

“No! I’m all for helping you guys with your adventures and whatever, but Will went missing and then she appears and Mike,” you turn to him and he hides behind a frightened Lucas. “You said you’d stick to your plan. Now tell me, did you?”

Mike shakes his head, his eyes wide. Dustin looks no better as he cowers behind the others. Lucas simply shrugs, knowing that this would happen. You never, ever, yell at the boys; the few times you have in the past, all hell had broken loose. 

“Y/N-”

“Zip it, Henderson. I’m so pissed off at you right now and if you want to make it to thirteen I suggest you keep quiet.” 

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, why don’t you guys catch me up on what you’ve so sweetly kept hidden from me.” It’s worded as a question, but the boys know better than to deny you. 

You sit on the ground so that you’re next to the girl and then motion for the three boys in front of you to start speaking. They look at Mike, giving him a nudge, and he hesitantly steps forward to begin speaking. “Her name is El.”

The girl, El, looks up at you and smiles. You return the smile and knock your shoulder against hers in a playful manner. “Nice to meet you, can I ask what El is short for?”

“Eleven,” she says, and you want to question the name further but the look on Mike’s face stops you. Now is not the time, you guess. 

“El, she’s… different.” Mike continues, looking around nervously. He’s acting as if someone could break in any second and snipe you guys, and a part of you doesn’t doubt it can happen. “She has these powers, like, mind control powers.”

You snort, unable to stop yourself. El looks at you, looking unoffended, seemingly expecting this reaction. However, Mike groans at you. “Y/N, this is serious. She-she knows about Will.”

At this, your smile fades and you feel an overwhelming sense of hope take over you. You find your arms wrapping around El before you can control yourself and you give her a tight hug. She stiffens in your arms and you immediately pull away. “I’m sorry, I just… sorry.”

She laughs a bit, softly saying that it’s okay. 

“Do you really know Will? Where he is?” You ask, almost too scared to say the words out loud. If she’s telling the truth… you shake your head in an attempt to dispel any false hope. You don’t know this girl, she could be lying. 

Before El can say anything else, Mike speaks for her. “She does, but there’s bad men out there who want to hurt her. I think they’re after Will, too.” 

You freeze. “Bad men?”

“Yes, this is why we didn’t want to tell you!”

“I wanted to tell her,” Lucas says, which causes Mike to glare at him.

You wave your arms at the two boys, breaking up their fight. “Mike, what do you mean by bad men? Honey,” you look at El, “did someone hurt you? Are you in danger? Should I call the police?”

“No!” All three boys shout at once. 

You look at them, at the genuine fear in their eyes, and sigh, “Okay, if you can give me a good reason not to call the cops, I won’t.”

“Did you not hear the part about El having powers?” Dustin asks. 

“Gee, Dustin. You’re right! It’s like her having powers is totally believable and reassuring to the situation at hand!”

“I can show you,” El speaks up. 

You all face her now. “You can?” 

She nods at you, getting up and grabbing your backpack that you threw on the ground when you walked in. She rustles through it while you and the boys look at one another. After a few seconds, El grabs one of your comic books and places it on the table. She looks at you and tilts her head, indicating for you to sit down next to her; you do as you’re told.

El straightens out your comic and then closes her eyes, going completely still. The air around you shifts and you can practically feel the static electricity encasing you; the hair on your arms stand up. The pages of the comic begin to flick up, fluttering as if someone is thumbing through them in rapid succession. You watch as the Spidey panels flash before your eyes, the pages flying faster and faster until it becomes almost frightening to be near. Then, once it gets to its last page, the comic flies up into the air and hovers for a few seconds, right in front of your face. 

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, your eyes wide. 

Just as quickly as it began, the comic drops back onto the table. You look up at El and see that her nose is now bleeding, which rips you back to reality. The chair scrapes against the ground as you get up to help her, dabbing at the blood with a tissue that had been laying on the table. 

“Do you believe us now?” Mike asks, a smug look on his face. 

You gently wipe away the remaining blood from El’s face, looking her in the eye and directing your words to her. “I’m listening, sweetheart. What can you do to help us find Will?” 

El smiles, pleased to have earned your trust, and you get the feeling that this little girl is the most powerful thing in all of Hawkins, maybe even the world. At her request, Mike places his DnD board on the table and arranges the pieces for El to use. She sits down and closes her eyes once more.

Lucas gives you a doubtful look. “What’s the weirdo doing?”

You flick his head, not enjoying the name calling. Honestly, you thought you raised these boys better than that. 

El seems to accomplish whatever she was doing and picks up the wizard piece, murmuring, “Will.” 

You feel your heart stop. Will always insisted on being the wizard whenever they played the game. He was Will the Wise, forever and always. El couldn’t have simply guessed that, and you know it’s her-

“Superpowers,” Dustin finishes your thought for you. The two of you exchange a glance and you notice the slight glee in his eyes. Under different circumstances, you’d also find this all pretty cool. 

Mike sits next to El and begins to ask some questions about where she last saw Will. She gives him a look that you can’t quite decipher before swiping her arm across the table and spilling the pieces onto the floor. She then flips the board over, having it now face upside down, and places Will’s piece back down. 

You knit your brows together, trying to follow along. El’s movements are methodical and carefully planned, being unable to find the right words due to her poor speech, and you try to piece together the information you’ve been given. 

“I don’t understand,” Mike says, being extra gentle with El. You’ve never seen him so soft spoken before and you’re grateful at least one of the boys doesn’t view her as some monster. Which reminds you that you need to have a conversation with Dustin about respecting women, but for now you’ll hold off.

“Hiding.” says El. 

He’s good at hiding, Jonathan’s words echo in your head. 

“Will is hiding?” 

El nods, now looking more nervous. You can tell that Mike is getting closer to information that she doesn’t want him near, which finally causes you to ask the question that’s been heavily on your mind. “From the bad men?”

Now El gives a slight shake of the head, and Mike presses on. “Then from who?”

Without saying anything, El places a second piece onto the board right in front of Will’s. It’s a piece you’re unfamiliar with, with two snake-like heads that loom over the small wizard piece. Whatever it is, you know it isn’t good judging the way Mike, Dustin, and Lucas look at each other in fear.

You turn to Dustin and whisper, “What’s that piece?”

Your brother puts his hands behind his head and sighs deeply, a new resigned look on his face. He looks as if he’s just aged thirty years, which you find a bit dramatic. “It’s the Demogorgon.”

“The Demo-what?” The name sounds familiar, but you can’t remember anything about it.

Mike looks at you and for once his voice holds no annoyance when he says, “There’s a lot we still have to catch you up on.”

– 

Your head is spinning as you bike to Jonathan’s with all the new information you’ve just received. Demogorgons, magical vortexes, kids with damn superpowers. It’s all a lot for you to take in, and while you fully believe that El is something entirely different from a normal little girl, how can you be sure that it’s connected to Will? While his disappearance still confuses you, it’s illogical to jump to supernatural conclusions. 

Dustin had begged you to let him spend the night at Mikes in order to keep talking to El, and you only agreed because you figured you’d be at Jonathan’s again tonight anyways. He’s been MIA all day and you’re worried as usual, but you made him and Mike swear to you that they’d stay put in the house. At least this way they’re in one place, so if they screw around they’ll be easier to find. 

When you arrive at the Byers home you notice that Jonathan’s car isn’t in the driveway, which only confuses you further. Where the hell is he? You gave him all day to deal with Lonnie and cool off, trusting that he wouldn’t do anything stupid for twelve hours, and yet… 

You fear he’s done something stupid. 

You don’t have time to think too much about Jonathan’s absence because a frantic Joyce runs out the door screaming. She runs straight past you and into her car, and the house begins to light up like a Christmas tree. You can hear The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go, a song that Will once had on repeat for three weeks straight, and you can feel the same static electricity in the air that you felt when El used her powers in front of you. 

Joyce suddenly gets out of the car and spots you, pointing towards her house. “You see that too?”

You swallow. “Yeah,”

She nods, as if your confirmation is all she needs to determine her sanity, and then marches inside. You stand in the yard, motionless. You’re terrified, and after learning about El tonight, you don’t have it in you to discover any other supernatural beings in Hawkins at the moment. Sighing, you follow after the woman because Jonathan isn’t home and someone needs to talk her down from whatever panic attack the flashing lights have inevitably caused. 

“Mrs. Byers-” 

“Y/N, you can’t tell me there isn’t something,” Joyce waves her hands in front of her face, almost grasping at the air, “weird about all of this. That was Will’s song, the lights were flashing in Will’s room, something came out of Will’s wall-”

“Something came out of his wall?”

“Yes! I’m not… I promise I’m not crazy, okay? You saw it, please tell me you saw it.”

You bite your lip, now thinking about El. You swore to Mike you wouldn’t tell anyone about her, and honestly you’re not sure that you should tell Joyce about her right now. You’re still unsure if El is being honest with you, and you can’t just give the woman false hope for her son. It’d kill you if you were wrong about El. But seeing the lights, hearing the music, the thing in the wall… There’s something that she’s not telling you. 

“Mrs. Byers… I’m not quite sure what I saw, but we just had a bad storm and it could be faulty wiring.” 

Joyce slumps her shoulders, frustrated that you aren’t conspiring with her. You just… you can’t. Not yet. Not before you figure out what the hell El is doing in Hawkins. You refuse to worsen Joyce’s already chronic anxiety and paranoia; Jonathan would never forgive you if you fed into her delusions, but it kills you to lie to her. 

“Look, I do think that something is weird about this entire situation, “ Joyce’s face lights up, but you’re quick to add, “however, there’s no proof. You, I mean-Mrs. Byers, you’ve seen things in the past. You’re stressed, and anxious, and all the other synonyms.” 

The woman lets a few tears drop from her eyes, now embarrassed. “Maybe you’re right. I-I’m sorry, honey. I just-”

You grab her hand. “I know,”

Her smile is brittle, a ghost of the once beautiful smile she’d give you, and your heart breaks for her. 

After your conversation, Joyce excuses herself to her room. She looks even more exhausted than before, so you leave her alone and hole yourself up in Jonathan’s room. 

You glance at your watch and note the late hour; you’re starting to worry now. Jonathan didn’t mention anything besides Lonnie and the posters, so you don’t know what else he could be doing so late. He wouldn’t go searching for Will without you. 

You wake up to Jonathan returning an hour or so later, apparently having fallen asleep while waiting for him. 

“Y/N?” His voice is gruff and surprised. 

You groan and rub your eyes. “Turn the light off, bee.”

He doesn’t. “What are you doing here?”

The tone of his voice wakes you up a bit, making you sit up and look at him more clearly. His shoulders are tense, his eyes are hiding something, and his overall demeanor is hard to read. “I had something to tell you, but is everything okay?”

“You couldn't have waited until tomorrow? Y/N, this is my house, just… just get out.”

“I’m sorry?” You’re confused by his behavior, now starting to become a bit defensive and hurt by his dismissal. 

“You can’t just let yourself in whenever you please.” Jonathan puts his camera on his desk, still refusing to meet your eyes.

“Jonathan, we literally have always let ourselves into each other’s houses whenever we please.” 

He rolls his eyes at you and rips off his jacket, throwing it at you. “Get out!”

You catch the jacket before it hits you in the face. “What the hell, Jonathan!” 

“Listen, I get that you think you’re a part of the family, but you’re not. You’ve been here for days now, it’s getting old.” 

His words cut through you and leave vicious wounds against your skin. He doesn’t mean that, he can’t mean that. You and him were family. He’s never, ever insinuated anything less. He wouldn’t dare. Your Jonathan would never act like this to you, and the only time he’s ever been this cruel to you was when he accidentally dropped Lonnie’s last beer in the fridge and was too embarrassed and ashamed to ask for help; he’d shown up with bruises later that night.

Then it hits you. He did something, something that makes him feel guilty; he keeps glancing at his camera. You soften your voice, “Bee, what did you do?”

He whips around, now yelling. “Nothing! Just get the hell out of my house! It’s getting pathetic!” 

You swallow back the angry tears that build in your throat. Fine. Whatever. Let him be a raging bitch after everything you’ve done for him these last few days. 

“Fine, I will.” Grabbing your backpack you snatch the assignments you were supposed to give Jonathan and slam them against his chest. “Here’s all your fucking assignments, by the way.” 

He seems to come back to himself, blinking away the anger and shame. “Bug…”

“You don’t get to call me that.” And with that, you don’t spare Jonathan another glance. 

– 

When you get home, the house is eerily quiet. Dustin is at Mike’s and your mom leaves you a note saying that she’s spending the night at your aunt’s. Great. Looks like it’s just you and Mews tonight then. 

After everything that’s happened tonight, you never found time to eat dinner, and your stomach is loudly growling. You drop your stuff in your room and then reheat some leftovers, feeling like a pathetic child. You know that Jonathan didn’t mean what he said, but the words had come too easily to him to have just been a way to dodge his guilt. There had been some truth to them. Maybe you were pathetic for always fretting over him.

Dinner is quiet tonight. 

You wait for the phone to ring, for Jonathan to call you and apologize, but the call never comes. 

You’ve never felt so alone before.

-

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