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#fiascos we love to hate
winepresswrath · 7 months
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trying to decide how hard i should work to make my girlfriend read tlt when i'm 75% sure she won't like it is difficult. on the one hand, she only has one life. on the other she has signed up to spend that life listening to me talk about gideon nav so i think she should at least understand 50% of the words coming out of my mouth.
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ohproserpine · 3 months
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iii. deer dolly
see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, jealousy, possessiveness, written before episode 7; may become inaccurate, gorey-ish descriptions of love, murder
The next night, Alastor returned in unusually high spirits. He practically dragged you onto the dance floor, twirling you around in dizzying circles for eight whole rounds. If you hadn't asked him to stop, you might have ended up collapsing from sheer exhaustion.
As it was a Saturday night and you weren't scheduled to perform, the trio of you settled in at the bar, enjoying drinks and each other's company as the night wore on.
"Come on, doll! Bottoms up!" Mimzy cheered, her laughter bubbling with infectious energy. The blonde pressed a crystal-clear glass against your lips, tilting it up and urging you to indulge further. The cool liquid burned as it slid down your throat, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. The room turned into a swirling blend of jazz melodies, clinking glasses, and loud, loud chatter.
After a few seconds, unable to endure the relentless flow of alcohol, you finally pushed her hand away with a sputter and a cough. The taste of the giggle water lingered on your lips as you slumped against Alastor's chest, your burning cheeks squished against the fabric of his coat.
"Had a bit too much, have we?" he smirked. The radio host smoothly wrapped an arm around your shoulder, the fine fabric of his suit brushing against your skin as he held you upright against him. You nestled against Alastor, swaying slightly to the music, the alcohol-induced haze casting a dreamy glow over your vision. "My, it looks as though the night's got its claws in you, cher."
"Not yet it hasn't," you grinned, your words slurring slightly as you shifted against him, a hand outstretched to grab your drink off the counter.
"Ah ah ah," Alastor chuckled as he took your glass from you, setting it aside with a careful motion. "Let's not push our luck, shall we?"
"Aw, don't be such a wet blanket!" Mimzy snorted, her curls bouncing as she plopped onto the seat beside you. "She's just having a good time! Ain't that right, doll?"
"Mhm!" you nodded your head eagerly before stopping, the ceaseless nodding causing a dull ache in your head.
"There's a good time, and then there's getting plastered. I'd hate to see the star of the show here end up on the floor. Ha ha!" Alastor boomed out with a laugh, catching you off guard. You would have stumbled off the seat if it weren't for his swift reflexes, his gloved hand wrapping around your arm to pull you back up.
"Such a klutz," Alastor tutted with a smirk as he steadied you. "See? What ever would happen to my favorite showgirl if I don't keep a watchful eye?" 
"Oh, please!" Mimzy snorted as she slid another cool glass of giggle water in front of you, leaving a glistening trail of water from the condensation. "She's handled worse than this. We're just getting started!”
"Mimzy, my dear, it seems my words didn't quite get into that thick skull of yours," Alastor enunciated with a tight-lipped smile. "Allow me to say it in much more simpler terms; she has had enough."
"Oh, come on—"
"Do you want all your patrons to witness yet another fiasco in this establishment?"Alastor smiled as he bore his gaze into the blonde's doe eyes. "Because it does sure seem like a night can't pass here without a fuckup!"
Mimzy's shoulders raised in surprise. She stayed silent for a while before forcing out a response through gritted teeth. "No."
Alastor leaned in, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, voice devoid of his usual eccentricity. "Then dry up. Understood?"
"Understood," Mimzy rolled her eyes, tucking her chin to her chest as she stared at her feet.
"Lovely." Alastor hummed before straightening himself. And just like that, the tension dissipated, replaced by an air of nonchalance.
"Well! This has been a delightful night, but I do believe it's time to escort this lovely lady home, don't you think?" Alastor's tone shifted back to its usual charm, as nothing had happened. He wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging your ditzy self out of the bar stool as he began to guide you out of the speakeasy.
"Best of luck, chums!"
.
"Can you believe it? That lousy, two-timing rat! You introduce him to the girl of his dreams, and what does he do? He high-tails it outta here with her, leaving us all high and dry!" Mimzy ranted, shaking her fist in frustration before pouring herself another drink. "Not a word for a whole week! I had to call in Nitwit Nancy to cover her Friday shifts! And you know that broad sounds like a screeching cat on a hot tin roof."
Beside her, Angel Dust was flabbergasted, his jaw hanging open with the champagne glass dangling loosely from his hands, its contents long spilled onto the counter, creating a shimmering puddle on the bar. Husk grumbled as he wiped the counter clean with a worn-out rag, eyes flickering between Mimzy and Angel.
The spider was staring at Mimzy as if the blonde had just sprouted a third tit, his eyes wide and struggling to process everything he had just been told.
“Why is you gawkin'?!” Mimzy leaned away from Angel, unsettled by the look on his face. “Aww. Is it 'cuz I'm adorable?”
"Fuckin' hell, toots," the spider coughed out a laugh. "I'm having difficulty understanding all that you just spat at me, blondie. What happened to you ‘keeping a secret’?"
Mimzy's body tensed, a sudden realization flashing across her face as she belatedly registered the fact that she had been running her mouth.
Shaking her head, she pulled herself back together with a huff. "Whatever, alright?! I doubt—"
Suddenly, a loud bang at the door echoed through the room, causing the two demons to startle in their seats. Mimzy's head snapped towards the source of the noise so swiftly she nearly gave herself whiplash. In growing horror, she watched as the hinges of the hotel's entrance door began to creak, the walls around them starting to crack and shed plaster.
"Mimzy! We know you're in there! You lousy bitch!"
"Oh, shit," she winced sinking into her seat.
"What the fuck—" Husk cursed, his words drowned out by the sudden explosion that violently rattled the lower windows. Shards of glass rained down onto the floor as dust and debris filled the air, choking their senses. Husk whipped his head around to glare at Mimzy when she vaulted over the bar counter, seeking refuge behind the sturdy wood.
"I fucking knew it. What shit have you brought to us this time?" Husk demanded, his grip tightening on her dress as he lifted her up. Another explosion echoed through the building, the shockwaves pulsing through the floor causing Husk to stumble and drop her. 
With a pained grunt, the blonde crashed to the floor, her bruised front absorbing the brunt of the impact. As she lifted her head, she met Husk's glare.
"Ahah... Well," Mimzy sheepishly smiled, her eyes darting nervously as she cowered on the floor. The banging on the door grew louder and more aggressive, echoing through the hotel lobby like a menacing drumbeat.
Angel Dust stood frozen by one of the living room walls, his hands pressed against it to anchor himself. Suddenly, he noticed the television set flickering with an eerie glow, emitting dissonant static noises that seemed to crawl under his fur. The crackling sound took on an unsettling pitch, and an odd pink electricity surged through the screen, casting a sickly hue across the room. "What the fuck...?!"
In that moment, Vaggie and Charlie stormed onto the scene, their eyes widening in disbelief as they absorbed the chaotic sight. The hotel lobby, once orderly and serene, now lay in ruins—furniture overturned, glass shattered, and the wallpaper charred.
"What's happening?!" Vaggie exclaimed, swiftly drawing her spear and slicing a chunk of concrete in half before it could reach her. The broken pieces ricocheted off the walls, adding to the destruction.
"We are under sssiege!" Sir Pentious screamed as he scrambled to get Nifty into his arms, slithering behind the toppled-over couch for cover. The banging on the door intensified, accompanied by muffled threats and angry shouts from outside. "It'sss all that harlot'sss fault!
"Harlot?" Vaggie questioned, her fiery gaze sweeping the room for a familiar mop of blonde hair. Upon spotting Mimzy, her eyes narrowed as her lips curled into a snarl. "Explain."
"I may or may not be in trouble with an overlord! Well, maybe a couple of 'em," Mimzy rushed out, her words tumbling over each other in a nervous babble. "And I may or may not have 'borrowed' one of their top showgirls. And, well, got that girl killed… but she had it coming!"
Vaggie's patience waned with each new sentence Mimzy added, and a low groan escaped her lips.
"Leave this to me," she hissed, red-hot fury flashing in her eyes as she tightened her grip on her spear. "Everyone, get somewhere safe."
"I'm afraid that will not be necessary, my dear."
A sudden crackling static, skin to the ominous hum of a radio, seeped through the room as Alastor emerged from the shadowed corners. The demon's grin twisted unnaturally, stretching up to his glowing crimson eyes, which emitted an eerie, hollow glow. Tendrils of inky shadow began to writhe and sprout from Alastor's back, emitting sickening cracking noises.
In the blink of an eye, he dashed outside, engaging in his unholy work, swiftly and effortlessly ridding the area of its assailants. The air outside carried echoes of screams and the sharp, metallic scent of blood.
Before everyone could fully comprehend the whirlwind of events that had just transpired, the screaming ceased. Shortly after, Alastor returned to his usual demeanor. Nonchalantly stepping back into the damaged lounge, he dusted off his suit, traces of blood marking his path on the floors.
"Alastor! Babyface! Good show!" Mimzy began clapping, seemingly unfazed by the gorey scene as she stepped out of her hiding spot. "Bravo! bravo!"
Upon hearing Mimzy's voice, Alastor's head fully twisted around with a loud, bone-chilling crack accompanying the movement. The radio demon moved toward her, his towering 7-foot form eclipsing her much smaller figure. He bared his sharp teeth in a menacing smile as his antlers began to grow in length, curling and twisting over his head—a display nothing short of terrifying.
"You—"
"Alastor~" Charlie's voice quivered with forced cheerfulness, her hands wringing together anxiously. "Haha! Let's, uh, try to keep our cool here, okay? We really don't need any more messes, do we? Haha!"
The princess's attempt at forced cheerfulness made her look desperate, her manic expression surfacing as her pupils visibly shrank, darting around the room like startled prey.
Alastor closed his eyes, the tension in his form visible as he took a moment to regain composure. Gradually, his antlers reverted to their usual size. With an eerie calm settling over him, he reopened his eyes, though the strain was evident in his smile. "My apologies, chum. I'll be out of your hair in a bit."
He spared Charlie one more glance, his gaze piercing, before redirecting his attention to Mimzy. The intensity in his stare bore into her as he spoke, his voice low and measured. "Since you are so eager to catch up, why don't we have a talk? In private."
With that, the radio demon snapped his fingers, transporting both of them out of the lounge.
"Dumb bitch," Husk grumbled under his breath, covering his eyes with his paws and slamming his head onto the bar counter. "We're all fucked once he finds out."
"Find out what?" Walking up to him, Angel Dust shot Husk a confused look. The spider delicately brushed away the dust that clung to his grey fur, picking out the bigger pieces of cement and plaster. "I thought they were friends?"
Husk raised his head off the counter, mismatched eyes meeting Angel's own. "Not anymore."
.
Mimzy slowly opened her eyes, greeted by the surreal sight of a blood-red room surrounding her. It housed a radio station complete with an array of dials and a microphone, the very tools she knew Alastor utilized for his broadcasts.
'His broadcasting station?' she noted, curiously looking about the room.
Suddenly, Alastor's firm grip closed around her shoulder, causing her to whirl around with disorienting speed. His bloodied claws moved to cradle both of her rosy cheeks, their sharp edges looming dangerously close to breaking skin while he squeezed her face as though dealing with a disobedient child.
"I thought I made it very clear that you were to step nowhere near me," Alastor forced her to stare up at him. Despite the discomfort caused by Alastor's claws digging in, Mimzy maintained her confident demeanor and glared straight back up at him. "Did I not, dearest?"
"Oh, I just ran into a spot of trouble, and I thought, who better to lend a helping hand than you?" Mimzy rolled her eyes as she pulled herself away from his grasp, massaging the tender flesh of her cheeks. "You always love helping lil ole me."
"Enough. What is it you want?" Alastor snapped. "Should you persist in wasting more of my precious time, I will relish tearing you apart limb from limb, and the symphony of your sweet screams will be a broadcast for all of Hell to revel in."
Mimzy, unfazed, leaned in with a sly grin, her fingers playfully tracing the lapel of Alastor's coat. "Alright, tall, dark, and creepy. I know you aren't going to do shit."
"After all," she batted her lashes at him, "Hurting me would be hurting her, now wouldn't it?"
The blonde pressed her finger into his chest, poking him repeatedly. "That was in the contract~ You. Heartless. Son. Of. A. Bitch."
A low, guttural chuckle rumbled in the depths of Alastor's throat. "Oh, sweetheart," he drawled, catching her finger mid-poke. "You seem to be overlooking the delicate nature of contracts. It might be wise for you to tread more carefully, relying on such flimsy assurances."
"Flimsy?!" Mimzy scowled. "I got your girl on a leash!"
"Lets make this very clear," Alastor's voice deepened into a growl, eyes flashing red in warning. "This contract doesn't grant you a carte blanche to play games with my patience. If not for her plea to spare you, your fate would have been sealed by now."
As Alastor's grip moved to tighten around her throat, Mimzy's eyes nervously tracked the sharp edge of his claws, her breath catching in her throat.
"W-Whatevah! A contract is a contract," she retorted. Mimzy roughly pulled away from him, scrambling to gain the upper hand again. "Even if there ain't a soul exchange, it's still binding!"
"Yes, indeed! I am well aware of contractual obligations, dear," Alastor grinned, his cane tightening in his grip, claws leaving indents on the dark steel. Bending down to meet her gaze, he continued, "But you seem to have forgotten that time's almost up! The expiration for your contract is nearing. And when that happens, I do intend to reclaim what is rightfully mine – my wife. At that point, you will find yourself plunged into an abyssal world of unrelenting agony."
"Abyss, schmabyss. I've dealt with worse," Mimzy scoffed, her hand waving dismissively. "Now look, I got what I wanted outta you, and I don't have to take this."
With that, the blonde turned with a dramatic flair, her heels clicking against the floor as she stomped towards the door. She adjusted her hair and straightened her dress, a smug smirk dancing on her lips.
"Have fun with your little princess and your little project," she quipped.
Over her shoulder, she shot Alastor one last look, a sly glint in her eyes. "Because I sure am having fun with mine~"
Dry up - Shut up Giggle Water - Liquor Carte Blanche - Complete freedom to act as one wishes
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sneezypeasy · 2 months
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The Lightning Scene, How Azula Targeted Katara (of All People), and the Doylist Reason Why That Matters
Mention Zuko's sacrifice for Katara in Sozin's Comet Part 3 as part of a pro-Zutara talking point, and invariably you'll get a Pavlovian response of:
"But Zuko would have taken the lightning for anyone."
(Not to be confused with the similar-sounding Pavlovan response, which is "Zuko's sacrifice ain't shit compared to a mouth-watering, strawberry-topped meringue dessert"*, which is actually the only valid counter-argument to how the lightning scene is a bona fide Zutara treasure, but I digress.)
Now, I've talked in depth about how the lightning scene is framed far more romantically than it had any right to be, regardless of how you might interpret the subject on paper; this is an argument which I still stand by 100%. That Zuko would have gotten barbecued for anyone, and that he was at the stage of his arc where his royal kebab-ness represented his final act of redemption, doesn't change the fact that the animators/soundtrack artists decided to pull out all the stops with making this scene hit romantic film tropes bingo by the time it played out on screen.
(I mean, we stan.)
There's also a deeper level to this conundrum, a layer which creeps up on you when you're standing in your kitchen at night, the fridge door open in front of you, your hungry, sleep-deprived brain trying to decide on what to grab for a midnight snack, and quite inexcusably you're struck with the question: Okay, Zuko may indeed have taken the lightning for just anyone, but would Azula have shot the lightning at just anyone?
But there's yet a deeper layer to this question, that I don't recall ever seeing anyone discuss (though if somebody has, mea culpa). And that is: would you have written Zuko taking the lightning for anyone else?
Or in other words, who Zuko would have taken the lightning for is the wrong question to be asking; the question we ought to be asking is who Zuko should have taken the lightning for, instead.
Get your pens out, your Doylist hats on, and turn to page 394. It's time to think like an author for a hot minute.
(If you don't know what I mean by Watsonian vs. Doylist analyses, and/or if you need a refresher course, go have a skim of the first section of this 'ere post and then scoot your ass back to this one.)
So. You're the author. You've written almost the entirety of an animated series (look at you!!) and now you're at the climax, which you've decided is going to be an epic, hero-villain showdown. Classic. Unlike previous battles between these two characters, your hero is going to have a significant advantage in this fight - partly due to his own development as a hero at the height of his strength and moral conviction, and partly because your villain has gone through a bit of a Britney Spears 2007 fiasco, and isn't quite at the top of her game here. If things keep going at this pace, your hero is going to win the fight fairly easily - actually, maybe even too easily. That's okay though, you're a talented writer and you know just what will raise the stakes and give the audience a well-timed "oh shit" moment: you're going to have the villain suddenly switch targets and aim for somebody else. The hero will be thrown off his groove, the villain will gain the upper hand, the turns will have indubitably tabled. Villains playing dirty is the number 1 rule in every villain handbook after all, and each of the last two times your hero's braved this sort of fight he's faced an opponent who ended up fighting dishonourably, so you've got a lovely Rule of Three perfectly lined up for the taking. Impeccable. The warm glow of triumph shines upon you, cherubs sing, your English teachers clap and shed tears of pride. (Except for that one teacher you had in year 8 who hated everybody, but she's a right bitch and we're not talking about her today.)
Now here's the thing: your hero is a hero. Maybe he wasn't always a hero, but he certainly is one now. If the villain goes after an innocent third party, there's basically no-one your hero wouldn't sacrifice himself for. He's a hero! Heroes do be like that, it's kind of their thing. The villain could shoot a bolt of lightning at Bildad the Shuhite, and the only thing that'd stop our boy Redeemed Paladin Bravesoul McGee from shielding his foxy ass is the fact that Bildad the Shuhite has the audacity to exist in a totally different show (disgusten.)
But. You're holding the writer's pen. Minus crossover shenanigans you don't have the licensing or time-travel technology to achieve, you have full control over how this scene plays out. You get to decide which character to target to deliver the greatest emotional impact, the juiciest angst, the most powerful cinematic suspense. You get to decide whose life you'll put at risk, to make this scene the most intense spine-chilling heart-stopper it can possibly be.
This is the climax we're talking about, after all - now is not the time to go easy on the drama.
So.
Do you make the villain target just anyone?
Or do you make the villain target someone the hero cares about?
Perhaps, someone he cares about... a lot?
Maybe even, someone he cares about... more than anybody else?
You are the author. You are the God of this universe. You get to choose.
What would deliver the strongest punch?
If you happen to make the inadvisable decision of browsing through these tropes on TV tropes, aside from wasting the rest of your afternoon (you're welcome), you'll find that the examples listed are littered with threatened and dead love interests, and, well, there's a reason for that. For better or worse, romantic love is often portrayed by authors, and perceived by audiences, as a "true" form of love (often even, "the" true form of love). Which is responsible for the other is a chicken/egg situation, one I'm not going to go into for this post - and while I'm certainly not here to defend this perspective as objectively good, I do think it's worth acknowledging that it not only exists but is culturally rather ubiquitous. (If you're playing the love interest in a story with a hero v. a villain, you might wanna watch your back, is what I'm saying.)
Regardless of whether the vibe you're aiming for is romantic or platonic however, one thing is for certain: if you want maximum oomph, the way to achieve that is by making the villain go after the player whose death would hit the hero the hardest.
And like I said, this doesn't have to be played romantically (although it so often is). There are platonic examples in those trope pages, though it's also important to note that many of the platonic ones do show up in stories where a love interest isn't depicted/available/there's a strong "bromance" element/the hero is low-key ace - and keep in mind too that going that route sometimes runs a related risk of falling into queer-bait territory *coughJohnLockcough*
That said, if there is a canon love-interest available, one who's confessed her love for the hero, one who has since been imprisoned by the villain, one who can easily be written as being at the villain's disposal, and who could quite conveniently be whipped out for a mid-battle surprise round - you might find you have some explaining to do if you choose to wield your authorly powers to have the villain go after... idk, some other sheila instead.
(The fact that this ends up taking the hero out of the fight, and the person he sacrifices himself for subsequently throws herself into the arena risking life and limb to defeat the villain and rescue her saviour, also means the most satisfying way this plays out, narratively speaking, is if both of these characters happen to be the most important person in each other's lives - at least, as of that moment, anyway - but I think this post has gone on long enough, lol)
This is, by and large, a rebuttal post more than anything else, but the tl;dr here is - regardless of whether you want to read the scene as shippy or not, to downplay Zuko's sacrifice for Katara specifically as "not that deep���" because "Zuko would have taken the lightning for anyone anyway", suggests either that a) nobody should be reading into the implications of Katara being chosen as the person nearest and dearest to Zuko, so that putting her life in jeopardy can deliver the most powerful impact possible for an audience you'd bloody well hope are on the edge of their seats during the climax of your story or b) the writers made the inexplicable decision of having the villain threaten the life of... literally who the fuck ever, and ultimately landed on someone who's actually not all that important to the hero in the grand scheme of things - which is a cardinal writing sin if I ever saw one (even disregarding the Choice to then season it with mood lighting and sad violin music, on top of it all), and altogether something I'd be legitimately pissed about if my Zuko-OTP ship paired him with Mai, Sokka, or just about anybody else ����
Most importantly c) I'm hungry, and I want snacks.
*The Aussies in the fandom will get this one. Everyone else can suffer in united confusion.
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Regarding the GeorgeNotFound Situation
This entire conversation should not have happened publicly.
It was clear from Caiti's initial post that there was a breakdown in communication rather than any "assault" or "molestation." In her own testimony, she never described explicitly stating no, nor giving any indication besides "getting up" to stop the attention (which was later disproved).
That does not mean she wasn't uncomfortable. That does not mean she was not hurt by George's actions. It also does not mean George is a molester because of it.
From Caiti and George's statements, it is clear that this took place over a couple of hours (3-4), and besides the texting afterward, there were no further physical interactions between them. To use a single incident to describe George's behavior is a stretch at best and downright misinformation at worst. In the Wilbur situation, the violations of Shelby's boundaries happened over months with repeated attempts to tell him to stop.
In George's situation, it happened over four hours, in which there were no explicit tells to stop.
That said, I do hope George takes this incident and rethinks his behavior with strangers. Even if it should not be described as molesting, it still hurt Caiti, and if I were him, I would make strides to not repeat the mistakes made here.
Moreover, I think that some parties involved should not have been. Some individuals used the volatile situation to spread their own hate toward the Dream Team. They used Caiti's story to push their own agenda, which, in no way, is supporting a victim. Her friends should have helped her find closure by seeking reconciliation from her "abuser;" instead, they made the situation a public massacre where she would most likely be harassed after already feeling vulnerable.
My hope is that, behind the scenes, the two will talk about what happened and try to find peace. George clearly did not know he hurt Caiti, and he apologized for making her feel uncomfortable. That does not make him a villain: it makes him a person who made a mistake.
The moral of this whole fiasco is not to support or not support victims. Support can be weaponized for personal gain, and to support blindly is almost as bad as not supporting at all.
Instead, we need to listen. From the beginning, Caiti's story was a plea for an apology from George, and all she needed was George's apology (which she received). She did not need people calling him an abuser, she did not need her friends to utilize her pain to attack George's friend Dream, and she did not need people to pry into both her and George's life for answers.
All of this could, and should, have happened off-screen where the two parties could reconcile and heal.
To Caiti: I wish this had not happened to you. I am sorry you are in pain, and I am sorry your friends used your pain for their gain. I hope you find peace from George's apology, and if you do not, I hope you find peace in life.
To George: I wish this did not happen in the public light. Your mistake did not need to be publicized and scrutinized and instead should have been between you and Caiti. I hope you will help Caiti find peace, and if she does not want it, I hope you grow as a person and do not make this mistake again.
As of right now, this blog will remain positive about the Dream Team. I probably will not be supporting George enthusiastically right now (since I want to be certain this isn't a repetitive behavior and just one incident). However, I will be happy to talk about any fandom content regarding him and the other members.
It has been a rough few days, and I am grateful for the lovely positivity we created between my anons and followers. I give you all many squishes of happiness. Thank you for being kind.
Now, let us all move on to a better and brighter future in this fandom. We have a lot of content coming up, and I'm very excited. Feel free to send any asks regarding the situation; I would love to read your opinions.
TL;DR This conversation should have happened off-camera. Caiti's story should not have been used for clout, and George should not have been attacked for clout. Both need to heal off-camera, and we should support that.
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theoddest1 · 3 months
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Okay so this new episode that came out (Episode 4) was poorly handled.
TW /// SA
- No warning before the show starts...why? And even if there is no way for Viv to add one, for some stupid ass reason, why didn't she announce to the fandom properly "Hey, this will have very deep topics and imagery that may not be suitable for all audiences."? Why have arguments on threads and fail to do this very easy thing. At least if the episode came out, people would get a heads up, and the word would spread faster PLUS people would see that you at least TRIED
- The episode opens up with a scene of CNC porno played for laughs in an episode that tackles SA. Complete tonal whiplash. Why did it have to open up with Angel showing everyone a porno? It serves no purpose other than to get a cheap laugh (that never came) out of me or anyone else who watches and because of the topic of the episode revolved around it. I'msure that if the episode WASN'T ABOUT SA, that joke would not have been there....but it is. There was legit no good reason to start this fiasco off with such a tone deaf opening.
- Charlie is actually fucking useless and a burden in this episode, serving no other purpose other than being the gateway to further the issues that befall Angel when "trying" to help. This all screams forced. Worse of all, Charlie does nothing to actually HELP Angel out of this, even though he has a clear black eye thanks to it all and literal mirrors breaking as a result of the abuse. We never see an actual development between the two thanks to her foolishness and garbage writing, and it's resolved easily as if this is some early Disney cartoon season that's on a strict deadline. Regardless of whether she apologized or not, she essentially caused the issue and did NOTHING to actually clean her mess. The goddamn B A R T E N D E R had to be used to salvage the pieces. So far, Charlie, as a character, is utterly pathetic and has been a burden to the cast twice so far. Vaggie, who tried to prove herself (moreso Vaggie's fault for going the extra mile for no reason but an obstacle nonetheless), also had an issue that involved Charlie's utter lack of a backbone. Hey, what was it that Charlie said in the pilot that her dad taught her and one of the only thingsshe learned from him? "You don't take shit from other demons"
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- Only one scene from the abuse shown was handled well, and it was when Charlie visited, screwed everything up, and Val asked Angel to come to his dressing room. Aside from that, the whole SA imagery is jarring. While this time, the fast pace of it all is not bad, the quick shift into it all with Angel switching from enjoying to hating, to smiling, to frowning, ALONG with the quick pace of it all with the PRIOR KNOWLEDGE SHOWN and the SONG PLAYING, I am getting mixed messages here. Imagery? Shows Angel getting assaulted multiple times with either a forced smile or for some reason ENJOYING sex with Val and the role play situations showcased, is he INTO his abuse? Lyrics? He seems to find arousal in Val controlling him. The song legit reads as follows
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"Addicted to this feeling, I can't help but swallow"
This doesn't read like he is "forced" it reads like he is yearning the toxic relationship. Now if this was one of the main issues with the abusive relationship, where it was a codependency built on romanticising the abuser and Angel learning to break free from that horrible view of someone who never loved him and actively harms him, this lyric would make a lot of sense....but that's not what we are shown at all. From the jump, we are shown that Angel HATES being with Val, to the point of him straight up avoiding his texts and voice messages, they actually do an okay job (despite the shoddy voice work) on showcasing how manipulative Val is and his outright explosive temper through this scene in episode 2. We see that Angel does NOT wanna have association with Val, is tired of it all, and even got drunk to down his sorrows. Yet these lyrics present it all as though it's just a very rocky love life like those songs you hear on the radio with the singer lamenting about how awful their relationship was but still miss their toxic boo-boo. It just...doesn't read like an SA song and could mean anything regarding the type of abuse he is facing. It's kinda vague in hindsight. That's MY take on the lyrics, though.
- Husk's song is a trash fire. He sees Angel is down in the dumps and proceeds to talk shit about him pretty much relaying his sorrows, saying it's okay to feed into your vices, and downplaying the actual situation at hand. So let's get this straight.
Angel- A sexual abuse victim forced into sex slavery to appease all sorts of people's sexual desires whether he likes it or not, including pleasuring his pimp who physically abuses him often all cause he sold his soul
Husk- Gambled his life away and lost his title as overlord, serves under Alastor all cause he sold his soul.
How is this even...the same at all? Even if Husk is lacking some context, he SEES that Angel normalized drinking roofied drinks and works for Val SOMEONE HUSK SHOULD KNOW ABOUT AND WHAT HE DOES but nah, screw Angel. Even if he honest to God (irony) wanted to actually help, why tf would Husk think this was sound advice? Why does Husk just SUDDENLY care? No build up, no memorable dynamic, no nothing. Realistically, CHARLIE should be the one singing with Angel or maybe Vaggie because she heard the story from Charlie. Not Husk. He is self aware enough where he knows this "advice" wouldn't work but nah. Nothing about the song makes sense. Telling someone going through it that "you're a loser" pretty much a no one, an insignificant individual, when VAL has made it clear that Angel would be nothing without him...yeah no the only reason why this whole song "worked" was cause the writers wanted it to, so Angel is happy with being a loser for being a victim of SA and selling his soul to someone who abuses him in various ways consistently.
This episode is terrible
Jarring for any newcomers
Who have no idea who these characters are
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lackadaisicallizard · 7 months
Text
Sundays
Growing up, Regulus hated Sundays. 
Sundays were mornings spent in church, pretending to the world that they were a perfect family. Sundays were stuffy clothes and tight ties wrapped around throats spouting nothing but lies about the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. 
Sundays were carefully coordinated games disguised as family lunches, the entire extended family coming together to outdo each other in just how well they were doing. Sundays were masterclasses in manipulation, lies and deceit. 
But now, fifteen years later on the most ordinary of all days, Regulus can hear voices coming from the kitchen. 
“I think that’s enough eggs, Haz, why don’t you add more flour now?” 
“How much do I need to add?” 
“I have no idea, just pour until it looks right.” 
Sliding on his slippers, Regulus makes his way out of the bedroom and down the hall, stopping in the doorway of the kitchen. He leans against the doorframe for a moment, watching the scene in front of him. 
“How’s it going there?” His husband peers into the mixing bowl that seems to have more eggs in it than any hen could feasibly lay in a year. 
“The flour won’t come out of the bag,” Harry says with a frown. 
“Try banging on the end of it,” James suggests and before Regulus can even consider stepping in to stop him, their son does just that. He is far too much like his father for his own good sometimes. 
Flour ends up everywhere. 
“Papa’s going to kill me,” Harry groans through a layer of white dust. 
“Papa doesn’t have to know,” James says, “you finish the batter and I’ll clean it up.” 
Harry stirs it, a puff of flour rising into the air. “I think it may be beyond saving now, Dad.” 
“J’en ai marre,” their heads whip around at the sound of Regulus’ voice, both faces a similar mask of concern. “You two are useless.” 
He steps into the kitchen now, holding out his hand for the bowl, which Harry passes him with a guilty expression. “I love you?” 
Regulus’ own expression softens completely at that and he places the bowl on the counter before holding out his arms for his son. Harry moves into them without hesitation, being pulled into a warm embrace and leaning into his father. “Tu es la lumière de ma vie,” Regulus says, pressing a kiss to the top of Harry’s soft curls before pulling back and looking at him in the eyes. “That doesn’t mean you can get flour all over my kitchen though, compris?” 
“Oui papa, désolé. We were just trying to make you breakfast in bed.” 
“It’s true,” James cuts in, a smile pulling up the corner of his lips, “we know you’ve had a long week so we thought we’d make some pancakes.” 
Regulus smiles back, he can’t help himself. “I’m not sure which one of you thought you could pull that off considering the great scrambled egg fiasco last month.” 
“Those eggs were delicious and you know it!” 
“I had to go to the store for more and make them myself.” 
“… my comment still stands,” James says with a grin and Regulus rolls his eyes at his husband. 
“Harry, go and fetch the chocolate chips from the cupboard and I’ll attempt to salvage this.” 
Harry disappears into the pantry and as Regulus starts to decanter as much flour as he can from the very floury bowl, he feels arms wrap around him from behind. 
“I’m sorry about the flour,” James’ voice is low in his ear. 
Regulus hums. “I would say I’m surprised, but I’m not.” 
A soft chuckle followed by lips against his hair. “I’m also sorry for ruining your Sunday, love. I know it’s the first day you’ve had off in a while.” 
But the thing is, he hasn’t. 
Because Regulus knows what a bad Sunday feels like. They’re ingrained into his brain. 
But this right here? Making far too much batter to even out the mountain of flour that he can’t salvage from the bowl. Allowing his son to add almost an entire bag of chocolate chips to the mixture. Watching his husband smother a tower of pancakes with syrup and whipped cream. Cleaning up an incredibly messy kitchen together as a family after they’ve done. 
Well, this is what Sundays are now. They’re not perfect, or proper, or in the least bit civilised. 
And he loves every one. 
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shelbgrey · 10 months
Text
Perfect(Seth Clearwater)
Paring: Cullen!Imprint!Reader x Seth Clearwater
Summary: Seth never expected to turn into a wolf, let alone imprint. But after the new born army Seth imprents on the youngest Cullen. they become love sick puppies and just try to have the time of their lives at Edward's wedding. (sorry for any spelling errors)
Requested: @Juliadarc
Twilight Master list
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I found a love, for me
Darling, just dive right in and follow my lead
Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet
Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting for me
Me and Seth hung close together as we walked around the sea of people, Bella and Edward's wedding reception was going off without a hitch. I didn't really want to be here, I hate huge croweds, but it was my big brother's wedding. It also helped I was with Seth.
He knew I didn't really want to do this, so he succeeded at spending the whole making me laugh. During the ceremony we couldn't stop giggling and making jokes about Bella, Sue had to literally sit in between us in the middle of my brothers vows. She found out that separating us wasn't gonna stop us.
This was Seth's first real party and he was always willing to try anything. We were know as the the sweet and innocent couple, we do are best to uphold that name.
“you guys are so cute together” Rose smiled, you knew Seth must be doing something right if someone like Rosalie saw him more as just a 'mutt'.
We tried to run off and get some cupcakes but Rosalie stopped us to get a photo. The first one was sweet but then they started to slowly become unhinged to the point Rose dismissed us. Emmett laughed as we went to sneak some cupcakes behind Alice's back.
'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love, Not knowing what it was. I will not give you up this time
But darling, just kiss me slow
Your heart is all I own
And in your eyes, you're holding mine...
If your wondering I'm the only human in the Cullen family and the only one who has actual documents of Carlisle and Esme adopting me.
I didn't know much about the pack till I befriend Jacob. Dispite my family he had a soft spot for me, I met Seth threw him even. Of course I didn't get to officially meet Seth intill the newborn Fiasco.
What my family nor the pack was prepared for was Seth imprinting on me. Jacob had invited me to a bonfire with the pack and that's when it happened. This of corse cuased some problems with the treaty and all, but with the newborn army coming everyone let it go.
I never felt so happy to have him, I watched my siblings get married and fall in love and I was left by myself, thst was unitll Seth. He had my heart from the start.
Baby, I'm dancing in the dark
With you between my arms
Barefoot on the grass
Listening to our favourite song
When you said you looked a mess
I whispered underneath my breath, But you heard it
Darling, you look perfect tonight...
“come on! Dance with me” I said pulling him towrds the swarm of other couples. Seth laughed and spung me around before pulling me to his chest. I wrapped my arms around his neck and we swayed to the music in a uncoordinated way, we didn't have to dance like Baby and Johnny from Diry Dancing to have fun.
He took my arms and we just kinda playfully bounced around and bumped each other. Things didn't really calm down till a slow song started to play, wonderful tonight by Eric Clapton started to play.
“may I have this dance?” Seth playfully bowed. “you may” he smiled and pulled me to his chest and way slowly swayed to the soft love song.
Well, I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know
She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her home
I found a lover, to carry more than just my secrets
To carry love, to carry children of our own...
I looked into his chocolate eyes never wanting this to end. We never really had a moment that didn't involve danger, so it was nice to just have a night of fun and laughter.
“have you ever thought about having a wedding?” Seth asked taking my hand in his and twirled me. I smiled softly. “of course, but we're too young to get married” I chuckled.
He smiled. “I know that...I want get a job and a maybe a small house on the res for us before we do all that”
“sounds like a plan” I smiled.
I knew in the future when it came down to either Seth or the family, I would chose Seth. I love my parents and siblings, they gave me a second chance when they adopted me. But then we move all the time and I'm not taking Seth away from his sister and mother.
We are still kids, but we're so in love
Fighting against all odds
I know we'll be alright this time
Darling, just hold my hand
Be my girl, I'll be your man
I see my future in your eyes
“you got somthing on your face” I said to Seth as we were eating the cupcakes we we're not supposed to eat yet.
“where?” he asked licking the frosting off this thumb.
I smiled and wiped the frosting on his nose. “there”
“hey” he laughed and his eyes went crossed to look at his now white nose. He stuck his toung out and tried to get it. I laughed at his failed attempts, he gave me an 'oh yeah?' look and wipped some frosting on my cheek. I laughed and pushed him away.
He stumbled backwards and accidentally bumped into Alice. “sorry Alice” he quickly said. She rolled her eyes.
“you guys aren't supposed to eat those yet and please act your ages” I rolled my eyes, Alice wasn't used to Seth yet but I didn't care what she thought. I would fight Seth for as long as it takes.
“we are acting our ages, we're at the prime of our youth and we only live once” I said smiled big, Seth nodded agreeing.
I ment the 'only live once' because that's what I wanted, as much as I loved my family I want to grow old with Seth and have a happy, normal future with him.
Baby, I'm dancing in the dark,
With you between my arms
Barefoot on the grass
Listening to our favorite song
When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful
I don't deserve this... Darling, you look perfect tonight
“have I told you how pretty you look tonight” Seth asked as we walked around the house, the music was getting old so we went somewhere more quiter.
I blushed. “Yes, about a million times” I playfully blumbed his shoulder.
“well it's not enough.. I don't deserve to be in the presents of such beauty” he said in his best medieval voice as he playful bowed to me then pulled me into his arms.
I have faith in what I see
Now I know I have met an angel in person, And she looks perfect...
Everything seemed to be perfect when I was with him and even if we were just 'kids' I couldn't wait for the future... And whatever desserts we can steal behind Alice's back tonight.
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madebycloud · 6 months
Text
Melting
wednesday addams x fem!reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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summary: you went trick or treating with your girlfriend. warnings/themes: fluff, soft!wednesday (ooc eheh), halloween, trick-or-treating, making out words: 1.8k
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'Tis the witching season! 
The whole neighborhood is in a festive mood, with ghouls and ghosts lurking around, kids dressed up as their favorite or the scariest characters. 
Now, there's someone who couldn't care less about all the hoopla. 
You know Wednesday doesn't like to be all sunshine and rainbows, but secretly, you've always wished she would let her guard down and have some fun. 
“It's overrated,” she scoffs. But if there's one thing that can sway her, it's you. 
The nostalgia. You missed those carefree days when your only worry was scoring as much candy as possible in one night. And now you have the perfect opportunity to go back to your child self and relive those memories. 
“Pleeeeeeaaaaase Wednesday,” you whine, dropping to your knees and clasping your hands in front of her. 
She doesn't bat an eye. She just continues to write, her fingers moving across the typewriter. 
“Please baby, please love, please,” you try again, pulling out all the stops—cute silly nicknames, puppy dog eyes that you know she secretly adores. “It'll be super fun.” 
Finally, she stops writing. She lifts her head and turns to face you. She pauses for a long moment, considering your plea. “Fine. But only on one condition,” she starts. “I know it's important to you—so I'll indulge your request. This is just a one-time thing. We won't be making this a habit.” 
“Just... once?” 
“Just once,” she repeats. 
You think for a moment. “...okay.” You nod. “But I'll choose the costume.” 
She raised an eyebrow. “Fine, no funny business. Let's make this quick and clean, understood?” 
“Understood.” You grinned.
“Hey there, Mario!” you exclaim with an exaggerated Italian accent while waving your hands around, trying to mimic how he does it. “It's-a-me, Luigi, your lovable sidekick!” 
“It's-a-me, Luigi? I don't know which I hate more—my ridiculous costume or your ridiculous sense of humor.”
Her eyes narrowed as she looked down at the garish plumber's costume she was forced to wear. She even had to wear a fake mustache. “I can't believe I let you convince me to wear this ridiculous costume.”
You shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the daggers she was sending your way. “Don't worry, no one will recognize you as Wednesday with this get-up.” You winked, but she was having none of it. “Besides, this is just a 'one-time' thing, right?”
She groaned inwardly. “Just make sure you carry this, you have a stronger arm.” With a huff, she hands you the pumpkin. “After all, you're the one who suggested this fiasco, so the least you could do is carry the stupid thing.”
Her hand snaked around your wrist, her grip was so tight you could feel it even through your gloves. 
You both made your way to Jericho, the streets were alive with kids in crazy costumes running around, laughing and shouting as they made their way to different houses. The streets are lined with jack-o'-lanterns and spider webs. 
Suddenly, you spot a house that looks amazing. There are a few children waiting outside, excitedly chattering as they anticipate a chance to fill their buckets with candy.
“Let's try that one,” you say, pointing to the house. “They look like they're giving out some good treats.”
Wednesday just nods and crosses her arms, not seeming interested in going with you to get candies. “I'll just stay here,” she insists.
“Are you sure?” you ask, pausing to look at her for a moment.
She simply nods, waiting for you to get your candies. You give her a quick smile and head towards the house. 
You ring the doorbell and wait for someone to answer. A woman with a warm smile opens the door.
“Trick or treat!” you say, holding your pumpkin out.
However, the woman looks at you with disdain. “Aren't you a little too old for this?”
The smile slips from your face as you realize what she means. But before you can say anything else, she closes the door in your face. You stand there, stunned, staring at the closed door. 
That was rude.
You returned to Wednesday, your shoulders slumping as you held up your empty pumpkin.
She looks at you with an eyebrow raised, as if to ask what happened.
You scratch the back of your neck and frown. She could almost see the smoke coming out of your ears. “She... she said I was too old for this.”
You can tell she's angry at the way you were treated, and you secretly hope she doesn't plan on getting back at the woman for her rudeness. She can't believe the audacity of that woman, as if there's an age limit for having fun.
Still, you don't let the incident put a damper on the rest of your night.
“It's fine, there's still a lot of houses we can try again,” you say, grabbing her arms and looking around for another house to approach.
But people keep telling you that you're too old for Halloween and refuse to give you candy.
Wednesday senses your disappointment and starts coming up with elaborate plans to avenge the people who have denied you treats. She seems determined to make them pay for their deeds, yet you keep trying to convince her to just move on and keep searching for sweets.
Just as you were about to give up, you came across a house with the porch light off, but you could hear giggling coming from inside. 
This time, Wednesday joins you in trick-or-treating.
Together, you knock on the door and a person in a ghost costume stands in the doorway, holding a bowl of candy. 
“Trick or treat,” you say, holding out your pumpkin for a sweet.
Wednesday's stare serves as a warning to the person not to disappoint you or suffer the consequences.
The man hesitates before finally grabbing a handful of candy from the bowl and thrusting it into your pumpkin, his hands shaking with fear.
You thank them, and Wednesday gives you a smile as you walk away. “See? Things aren't so bad after all.”
Wednesday rolls her eyes. “Let's just keep going,” she says, before pushing you forward towards the next house.
You were walking back from trick-or-treating, your pumpkin filled to the brim with sweets and goodies. 
“Let's go back,” Wednesday mumbled as she walked alongside you, still holding onto your hand. Her hand slipped into your biceps, yet she hardly even noticed.
You nod, prepared to return home. However, before you can leave, you hear a voice from behind you. 
“Wednesday Addams?!” the boy says in shock, recognizing her beneath the Mario costume. 
“Oh, for Christ's sake,” Wednesday muttered under her breath. She couldn't believe someone had recognized her in her stupid, ridiculous Mario costume. She could swear in her life that she's never felt so stupid.
You turned to see a boy dressed in a brightly colored insect costume, his antennae bobbing as he waved at both of you. “Hey Eugene!” 
Wednesday narrows her eyes. “What are you doing here, Eugene?”
“I came to get some candy!” He replied eagerly, his eyes sparkling, but then his eyes widened. “Wait... is that really you... Wednesday?” he asks, taking a step forward. 
Wednesday clenches her jaw and you stifle a laugh, amused by her reaction. You offer Eugene some candy from your pumpkin, and he excitedly accepts it, thanking you.
“Eugene, can you take a picture of us?” you request, handing him your phone. 
Wednesday snapped her head in your direction, her eyebrows furrowed as she glared at you. She's just about lost it. She swore in her mind that she would never take a picture wearing this ridiculous costume.
You flung your arm around her and gave a peace sign as Eugene held up your phone. You chuckle and give Wednesday's waist a reassuring squeeze.
“Three, two...”
Wednesday knows she will be miserable. But she looked at your smile and realized that, despite her aversion to the costume, she didn't want to ruin your fun. So she reluctantly struck a peace sign, hoping that no one would recognize her under that ridiculous mustache.
“One!” the flash flickers, and the photo is captured. 
She couldn't deny the warmth in her chest as she watched the picture saved to your phone.
You realized that your feet were starting to feel tired after walking so much. Eager to rest your tired legs, the two of you made your way over to a nearby bench, tucked away amidst the shadows of the trees. 
Wednesday is now holding the pumpkin-shaped basket full of sweets while you gaze up at the stars in the sky. She eventually pulled out one of the candies and popped it into her mouth.
“Taste good?” You turn to look at her. 
“Tastes like poison,” she teases before popping it into her mouth.
You can't help but stare at her lips. Why did her lips look like they were begging to be kissed?
“Do you want one?” Wednesday asks, seemingly reading your thoughts. 
You were almost too stunned to speak, but a soft “yes” managed to escape your lips. 
Small smile formed on her lips, as though she knew exactly what she was doing. She offered the candy before you swallowed it whole, savoring the sweetness on your tongue. 
A glance at her lips and then back at her eyes told her everything she needed to know.
Before you knew it, Wednesday had leaned in to share the sweet with you, her lips soft and supple on yours, the taste of candy still lingering on your tongue.
When you finally pulled away, you were left weak in the knees and breathless.
Wednesday's lips part slightly, her breath brushing against your cheek. You lean in again, but she stops you with a gentle hand on your chest.
“One condition,” she whispers.
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. 
“I get to choose the costume next year.”
“We're going to trick or treat again next year?” you ask, grinning. “Fine,” you concede, “your choice of costume next year then.”
With Wednesday's permission granted, you lean in for another kiss, this time lingering even longer than before. Your lips lock together in a sensual dance. 
But you pull away, teasing her. “Wait.”
“What now?”
“Well, I was thinking we could dress up as Remy and his human companion, Alfredo from Ratatouille.”
Wednesday's eyes narrow, clearly annoyed at your choice.
“Okay, I admit, that was a terrible idea, but what about SpongeBob and Patrick? or I can go as Squidward, and we can be rivals instead,” you suggest, desperate to find a costume she'll actually like.
She rolls her eyes, but you could already see the corner of her lips twitching up into a small smile. “You did not just suggest that.”
“Oh yes I did.”
“I'm not dressing up as a rat with a chef's hat next year, that's for sure. And you're not going to make me dress up as a sponge either.”
You smirk. “Maybe not, but I'll still find a way to make you dress up as something ridi—”
Before you finish your sentence, Wednesday's lips are on yours once more, drowning out your words. Her fingers glide down your jaw as she draws you in closer.
“That's it,” she whispers between kisses. “You're stuck with me now.”
And you wouldn't want it any other way.
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 6 months
Text
Pretty like the wind
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Previous chapter / Next chapter
a/n Part six! Right, who thought we would see each other here? In all honesty... I'm just so freaking excited because you all seem to enjoy this series. ✨🤍 Thank you for reading!🤍🫧
warning: lots of past trauma, Illyrian camp kind of trauma, anxiety, kids because some of you said it was a warning, same old things.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
You were struggling to grasp the world around you. Trying to figure out where someone as small and meaningless could slot it. Crack through the broken pieces and allow the roots to form. You hated yourself for it. Hated the feeling that surrounded you. And for the very first time, you found yourself agreeing with every rule that Padme had set in this place. Hating yourself because you opened yourself to the inevitable. Made yourself believe and see things that weren't there. Hated it even more because, in the mix of all of this, you managed to lose the hold of your heart that had been safely locked away.
"Y/N", you blinked a couple of times. Being met with an eager hand flailing right in your face, "Mhm", you muttered. "You weren't listening to me...", Axel fell back on the mattress dramatically. You had slipped back into your room after that balcony fiasco. You couldn't. Simply couldn't look at Azriel now. And what were you thinking? Saying things like that. Kiss me...
You cleared your throat, "I was. I was. The purple looks nice", you nodded. Axel tilted his head to the side, "We figured that an hour ago", the boy frowned. "Ah", you exclaimed. What was he talking about? You had been so lost in your head that you had lost the line of his babbling somewhere along the sugar tree canes. Zofie crawled onto your lap. She was an empathetic child, managing to sense even the smallest dents in others' moods. Her questioning was silent; just her eyes managed to pierce right through you. But you kept your head high, a smile plastered on your lips. A fake one, yet it was better than a wobbling lip. You were about to ask Axel about the Candyland dream when the boy sighed, "You're no fun. Azriel actually listens".
You bite your cheek at that. Your whole body seemed to shut down at the mention of him. But it was infectious. The moment your body realized the familiar sound of his name, it seemed to burst with all the different sensations on its own. "That's rude, Axel; apologize", Zofie bit back, arms crossed over her chest. Her fiery gaze was enough to make Axel's shoulders droop. "I didn't mean it like that," the boy said, moving an inch closer to you. "I know, sweet boy, I'm not mad", you brushed your hands through his messy hair. Letting him snuggle into your side.
And nothing had ever felt more right than having them both wrapped up in your hands. They might not be yours, but you loved them as if they were a part of you. No big gestures were needed. You had found one another and clung to each other ever since. And Mother knows you had taken orphans from camps before. But these two were special. Special beyond anything else. The thought of someone taking them away The thought of having to let go of them so they would have a chance to be a part of a normal family...
"No", Zofie muttered, her tiny fingers paddling at your cheeks. Axel's big brown eyes looked right at you. "I'm okay, I'm sorry", you tried to smile at them. You were always great at hiding your pain and fears from them. But with so many things going on, so many things slipping through your fingers. You had lost the grasp of your shields completely. "You're lying", Axel stated quietly, and all you could do was cup his face. Zofie sent him a worried look. And even if she could power through others' pain, your sadness left her feeling hopeless. So Axel did the only thing that felt right to him in that moment.
"I don't see the necessity to rush", Azriel was talking to a swirling image of Rhys that flouted in his room. But not before he had called his brother a dramatic ass for showing up most extravagantly. "I'd send Cassian, but you and I both know how that ended the last time", Rhys huffed, and quite frankly, Azriel didn't want to recall the time Cassian had way too much fun in Summer. Yes, he was undeniably an amazing warrior, but dang, there was a child in that grown body that seemed to take over his judgment at times. "So, what? You're unlocking my cell door so easily?", Azriel shook his head. Rhys sighed. "You can hate me all you want. But you and I both know you needed to get away from Velaris", Rhys said calmly. Azriel wasn't an idiot; he knew his previous appearances were to monitor him. And even now, there was that inkling of hope in his brother's eyes. Looking for a change, trying to see if Elain was still something Azriel wanted to pursue.
"Look, I need to make sure...", Azriel stated right as his bedroom door burst open and in fell Axel. Yet the boy quickly picked himself up. Just his attention instantly got snagged by Rhys. "Wow, a flouting head... cool", he mussed. Azriel frowned slightly. "Axel, bud, what's going on?", he asked in a softer tone. "Oh, amm...", the boy's gaze darted between the two males. "It's okay. Look at me", the spymaster turned his full attention to the youngling.
And yet, no matter what Azriel was expecting, didn't prepare him for the world that left Axel's lips: "Am... Y/N is not feeling well". And it's as if Azriel's body reacted on its own. The male practically leaped out of his chair, moving to reach for the boy, "What do you mean? Did something happen?". And deep down, from the bitter taste alone, he knew that it was his doing. The conversation on the balcony was so unfair and stupid. He shouldn't have mentioned Rhys like that. Because that wasn't the case at the time. The boy shrugged his shoulders. "Just... come", Axel pleaded, moving to grab Azriel's palm and giving it a little nervous squeeze. And of course, he moved to walk right after the boy. "Yeah, I'll hang here", Rhys muttered, an amused smile on his face, but Azriel only called over his shoulder, "Shut it, Rhys".
Was Azriel worried? Yes. Ever since he saw you practically ran away from him. He was convinced that he had heard your heart-shattering, Azriel saw it in your eyes. That final undoing. That final decline. That was the final straw. Was he once again being selfish? Yes. Because he was mortified. He didn't want to go back; that alone scared him. But then he thought... What if he didn't manage to hold back? What if he wasn't yet all over it? What if he slipped up, and you all got hurt in the process?
Axel gripped his arms firmly and said, "And you will talk, and you will make it better like you always do", only now did Azriel realize that the boy was talking. Myst has been talking the whole way up the stairs. His breathing was uneven. "Hey, hey, slow down", Azriel tugged lightly, but Axel didn't give in. "This is urgent", "I hear you, but you need to slow down", Azriel stated calmly, and Axel finally stilled. His wings were always slouchy, but now they were practically dragging on the floor. The flicker of protectiveness flickered in Spymaster's chest.
"What if they are finally sending us away?", Axel's words were barely a whisper, but they knocked practically all the air out of Azriel's lungs. "What?", was all the male managed to mutter. Axel's eyes were big as if he was not supposed to say anything, as if this was meant to stay a secret. "Y/N has been getting in trouble for keeping us", he sighed after a while, his eyes darting to the floor. Azriel quickly hooked his finger under the boy's chin, "Hold up, Axel, look at me. Like soldier to soldier".
He was sure that he was not supposed to have this conversation with a kid, but... This was a serious thing. They can't be taken away from you. "She's not considered fit to be our caretaker", Axel said, eyes filling up with tears. "She's a summoner or something. She does this thing", the boy waved his tiny hands around, and Azriel just watched him, "And it's easier for them", Axel ended with a sigh. Them. Them? The sanctuary? That rusty lady? Azriel gritted his teeth, reassuringly squeezing Axel's shoulder.
When he stepped into the room you three shared, he was convinced that jumping off this mountain and falling to his death was less painful. Zofie was seated right by your side, her tiny fingers brushing against your cheek every time a new tear fell. You just seemed so small. So broken. Mother above... Azriel had wondered about the kids, but what about you? What was your story? Who said that you weren't a victim too?
"Azriel", that was a sound that Azriel knew he was never going to get tired of. He met Zofie's eyes from across the room. Eyes that were now almost pleading. "Hey, baby Z", Azriel muttered with a wink. Your body instantly shot up, an angry scowl on your face, "What are you doing here?". Azriel had never heard your voice so cranky and low. It ripped at parts of him that it shouldn't.
"Axel, take Zofie to my room; why don't you?", Azriel ruffled the boy's hair, and he instantly stretched his arm out for the girl, who was quick to leap off the bed. "No", you muttered, pushing yourself to get out of bed. "Y/n", Azriel pleaded, his eyes fixed more on the kids as they both hurried to get out. "Who do you think you are?", you were right in front of him now, hands reaching for the door handle, but Azriel blocked it off by standing in the way.
"Come on, let's talk", he said softly, but you only let out a huff. "No", you said, moving to shove him away, but in reality, you should have known better, taking into account that he was at least three times your size. You pulled back angrily. "You might be some big scary thing down there", you pointed at the window where the lights of Velaris could be seen. "But here... I don't care", you nearly whined in frustration. You moved to flick your hands out, the light instantly drenching them, but Azriel was quick to catch your wrists.
"I don't want to fight", he said in a calm, worried tone. You tried to yank your hands from his. Just like you tried to get away from him on the balcony, just this time he didn't buck. "I don't care what you want", you spat through gritted teeth. "You're leaving", and as angry as you tried to appear, the last part made your voice crack, and you instantly bit the inside of your cheek. Azriel let out a sigh before saying, "I never said that".
Your body seized. That same painful feeling of hope rushed through you, but you drowned it out almost immediately. Why wouldn't he? Why would he stay? You watched Azriel until your eyes were burning so much that you couldn't keep your composure any longer. "It's not fair", you muttered, but all you got in return was, "Why didn't you tell me?". You blinked a couple of times in conversation. "What?", you breathed. "That they want to take them away", Azriel's words pierced right through you. Igniting that same anger that was just starting to fade away.
"They won't", you snapped. They might try, but you would go down swinging if you had to. "You're sure?", Azriel bites back for the first time, and it's enough to make you pull away from him once again. "Fuck you", you hissed, "Who do you think you are?". You wished he would yell back instead of just standing there. Looking. Standing and looking. "You came in here after thinking with your dick and just stirred it all up", and you know your words hit the spot just from the way pain flashed in Azriel's eyes, but his face stays stone cold. Unreadable. Unapproachable. "You don't mean it, you're mad", he said in an utterly blank matter, and it only inched you forward. "Oh, I mean it, I so...", but you didn't have words; you don't have words for what you were looking to say. There was nothing. Because none of them were true.
"You...", you point your finger at Azriel. "Yeah, go for it. Pull out another name for me. I don't care what insult you throw at me. You're defending yourself because you're scared", and that's it. Those words were your final undoing. Your lip wobbled. Nails digging so deep into your palms just so you can keep yourself from sobbing. "I can't lose them...", you breathed out and Azriel instantly crossed the distance between you both, pulling you in and tucking your head beneath his chin. "We'll figure this out", "This doesn't involve...", you try to fight back, but Azriel ignores your words. "I've got you, love", he muttered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. And just like most times when Azriel was near you, a warm flow seeped deeper into your bones, settling into your body. Your hands reached to hold onto his shoulders for support as you let yourself cry.
"You cheated", Axel gasped, making you turn your head back to your bed. Azriel was sprawled on it, with both of the little monsters on either side of him. They had both come back with a handful of sweets in their hands that they snuck in from the kitchen. For comfort, they said it in unison, and as much as you wanted to tell them off, all you had done was smile. Yet the empty feeling in your chest still throbbed.
"How does one cheat while reading a bedtime story?", Azriel let the book rest against his chest. "You read too fast!", "You didn't do voices", both Zofie and Axel said in unison. A deep chuckle slipped past Azriel's lips, "Two very different accusations here". His eyes darted to your frame. You had opted to sit near the fireplace instead of lying with them. "Judge?", he called out playfully to you, the two kids giggling alongside him. But your eyes didn't leave the dancing flame. "Y/N", Azriel called out softly. You turned to them with a hum, but your eyes alone said that now was not the time for games. You couldn't take it. A sharp lash of pain gripped Azriel's chest, making him grit his teeth. But your shoulders sagged in slight relief. As if Azriel had managed to take at least an inch of pain off your shoulders.
"How about we settle down?", the spymaster turned to the kids, quickly pulling the blanket all the way up above their heads, making them both fall into fits of giggles. Giggles that pulled even at the corners of your lips "Will you stay?", Axel asked breathlessly. Azriel stilled for a moment, "I don't think I...", the spymaster muttered quickly. "You're very warm", Zofie beamed, and for that alone, Azriel was willing to drop all of his plans. "Then I can't keep you freezing", his shadows quickly fluttered through Zofie's hair, making the girl squeal at the tickling sensation.
Azriel watched you for what felt like ages. The noise in the room had died down. With both kids asleep, the place felt quiet. Only the crackling of fire remained, accompanied by the light snoring. Azriel had managed to slip from in between the two younglings. As if by second nature they had found one another in between the sheets. Axel's wing draped over Zofie almost immediately. And Azriel had to crack a smile. Illyrian instinct.
"What's on your mind, sweet?", Azriel had walked over to you, both hands on your tense shoulders, as he finally broke the silence. "Sadder or a happier version?", you chuckled coldly. "Sadder", the spymaster muttered, because deep down he knew there wasn't a single happy scenario in your head at this moment. "How horrific it will be for them when you go back", you muttered. Azriel shook his head as a sheen of frustration ran down his face, "Why are you so fixated on it?", "You didn't just ask that", you huffed, turning to him swiftly. Azriel let out another sigh, "Why does every conversation between us end up in an argument now?" There was no anger in his tone. Pure sadness at its best. It hurt him, and even you couldn't ignore it. You looked away quickly, but one of Azriel's shadows brushed against your cheek, turning your head back to the shadowsinger.
He kneeled in front of you, lowering himself to your height. "I'm not throwing this away. I said I'd teach Axel how to fly, and I will", Azriel said firmly, "I want to earn Zofie's love; I can't..", but you quickly cut in, "Don't", you muttered, "Don't make promises like that". Azriel watched you. Watched you because, no matter how much he tried, he knew he would understand the roots of the pain you carried. And then, against his better judgment or just simply because his heart was telling him to, Azriel muttered, "Come to Velaris with me". You let out a surprised gasp, scanning his eyes. "You don't mean it", you whispered, shaking your head, but Azriel only inched closer, "Then I'll prove it to you".
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Taglist: @naturakaashi
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arysbruv · 2 months
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Burn
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You were a relatively newer student. You normally kept to yourself but you always dreamt of being friends with the main trio, especially with the infamous Suguru Geto. Yet, he always seemed to hate you, even when you openly showed you felt the opposite.
pairings: suguru geto x f!reader
warnings and whatnots: ITS GOJOVERR ‼️‼️ Reconciliation, fluff after angst because I feel bad. End of series!!
chapters!
Chapter 1 : are we still friends? Chapter 2 : can we be friends? Chapter 3 : Sorry, not sorry. Chapter 4 : Green looks good on you. Chapter 5 : Runaway. Chapter 6 : [CURRENTLY READING]
shoko 🚬 : y/n where are you?
shoko 🚬: y/n???
shoko 🚬: what happened r u okay?
shoko 🚬: why is suguru crying
bing!
suguru 💔: I’m sorry.
You glance at the notification, sniffling. You sat croucee on the toilet seat of a random cafe, eyes red from the hours crying. A knock on the door pulls you from your thoughts.
“Taken..” You croak out, voice hoarse from the crying.
“y/n, it’s me, Shoko…”
The soft and caring voice wills your legs to move and opens the door. Shoko stands in front of you, concern evident in your eyes. She scans your body, a small sigh leaving her as she hugs you. You melt in her embrace.
“She ran away?!” Satoru asks incredulously, watching his friend pace around the hotel room. Suguru moved about, wiping his eyes that stung from the harsh rejection he just earned.
How stupid! He was an idiot to think that the girl he was mean to for months would suddenly accept his love confession. What was this; An enemies to lovers book?
“Why? Oh god why did I say that?” Suguru mumbles to himself, finally sitting down on the bed beside Satoru, head in his hands.
bing!
the OGS
shoko 🚬: we’re in the hotel room
shoko 🚬: y/n’s a mess.
shoko 🚬: Good news, y/n likes you! bad news, she’s scared to admit it because she accidentally rejected you.
Suguru reread the message, over and over again, the phone in his hand almost breaking from the strength of his grip. Satoru takes his phone, reading the message so it properly processes in Suguru’s head.
“Congrats, she likes you!” Satoru says, tilting his head, waving the message in Suguru’s face.
Suguru didn’t know what to say. He grabs the phone from Satoru, earning a scowl from him.
“What do I do? She didn’t ruin anything!” Suguru says almost loudly, shocked eyes trained on Satoru.
Satoru’s eyes glimmered, a plan formulating in his mind. A smirk gathered upon the white haired boy’s face. He stands up, grabbing the car keys from the bedside table, he walks to the door, peering over his shoulder to see Suguru still sat on the bed. He sighs, giving a smile to the long haired boy.
“Come on, let’s go shopping.”
“Where are we going?” You ask Shoko as she brings you down the cold street. You shiver.
Shoko doesn’t answer you, her steps getting faster as she rounds the corner. You frown. Was she leading you to a bar? Was she suggesting for you to drink your problems away? Wouldn’t be that much of a surprise since she drowns out her own issues with smokes. Maybe you did need a drink, just to get away from everything and everyone.
After the whole fiasco pertaining to Suguru Geto, you quite literally wanted to run away and never face him again. If it meant going to learn with Nanami and Haibara in the class below you, that would be what you would do. At least they wouldn’t shame you for something like falling in love. A part of you longed to be with him yet you were weary fo his intentions. Did he truly love you?
Suguru watched from inside the cafe as you came closer. Flowers in hand. Roses, plain but he thought maybe you would like something plain and basic in the world of chaos and unknowns. Yet, just to be sure he also put a few of your favourite flowers in the bouquet. He heard you mention it to Shoko once as you all walked past a flower garden when you first came to Jujutsu High. He wiped his hands on his pants, glancing at Satoru who sat at the side, giving him a small thumbs up.
He hoped this work. He didn’t understand why he was trying so hard to win your affection but what he knew was that he wanted you and wanted to be yours. If it wasn’t him, he didn’t want it to be anyone else.
You rounded the corner, trailing behind Shoko like a lost puppy. He tilts his hand. Even after crying for seemingly hours, you were still gorgeous.
He gulps. What if you were too good for him?
”Suguru?” You say as you enter the empty cafe, Shoko quickly bee-lining to Satoru who sat at the side. The cafe was void of noise, you could hear the crickets from outside. It was cozy and small, only one worker behind the counter. You recognised them. Nanami?
Your eyes finally properly land on him, taking in his full appearance. His outfit was different from the one this morning, it looked cleaner and more formal. A black button up shirt tucked into straight cut black pants. His hair neatly combed back. He looked so handsome. A tint of red starts forming on your face as you stare at him, failing to notice the flowers in his hands.
Embarrassment runs through you. Crap. Was he here to talk about the whole rejection thing? Truth be told, you didn’t know why you ran. You wanted to say that you liked him too but you couldn’t help but feel that maybe he was just joking around or prancing you. Yet, he looked so… genuine.
”y/n.” The sound of your name in his golden voice snaps you back to reality. You look to see he has gotten closer to you, close enough that you could notice his breathing pattern. Close enough that you could see the flowers in his hand tremble and shake slightly.
Flowers?
Your eyes glance over them. Roses, mixed in with a few of your favourites. How had he known your favourite. Did Shoko tell him? No, she had been with you for the whole time. You bet Satoru didn’t even try to remember what your favourite were so how did he know?
“y/n, I am here to lay down my heart to you and hope you accept it.” Suguru randomly says, bringing your attention to his face. He cringes at his own words.
His eyes slightly widen upon eye contact. Suguru’s neck starts heating up as his eyes meets you. Why was this so hard? He practiced this with Satoru.
“For the past few months, we have never been on the best of terms. It is true that I found you to be annoying and too clingy at times. Yet as I began to become closer to you, I realise that there was no one else I’d like to annoy me and cling to me,” He trails off, averting his eyes. He inhales, taking in a breath.
“You are as the Sun, something one truly cannot appreciate until they are gone and unfortunately, I have seen you gone before.” His eyes finally come back to yours, softening as he sees your eyes that were laced with confusion.
“Thus, again, I ask you, to please consider going on a date with me.” Suguru hands you to bouquet of flower, a rush of blood hitting his face.
You stare at him then at the flowers. Slowly, you will your hands to take it. Your face felt hot as you grabbed onto the stems of the flowers, covering your face slightly with the buds. You look back at Suguru.
He had just confessed to you, for the second time.
“Suguru, I-…” You started, unsure of what to say. Suguru smiles softly at you, the most soft and caring expression strung upon his face. It hit you like a truck.
He liked you.
You liked him.
“I’d love to go on a date with you.” You whisper quietly, looking to the side. You cringe, realising he might have not heard you as he remained silent. You slowly bring your eyes back to him, only to see him try and suppress a giant grin from forming on his face. He moves closer to you, hands on your shoulder.
“Thank you, love.” He says slowly, whispering in your ear. Your blood rushed. He moves back, smirking at you. You stare at him expectantly.
“So… are we done yet?” Satoru finally asks, breaking the silence, earning him a shove from Shoko. He stands up, glaring at her and stretching. Suguru rolls his eyes at Satoru. He would scold him but after the immense help from him, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
“Yes Satoru, we are done,” You say sweetly to him, a small smile coaxed on your face.
You look back at Suguru, who smiles at you as he watches Shoko and Satoru walk out the cafe. He moves towards you, grabbing your free hand. His fingers intertwining with yours.
“Thank you for giving me a chance.”
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stevie-petey · 3 months
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episode three: the pollywog
Steve looks over at you, not necessarily amused, but flattered nonetheless. “You know my class schedule?” A blush spreads across your face as you look away from him, but Steve still sees it and something flutters in his chest. He’s always thought you were pretty when you blushed, but you’re even prettier when he’s the reason why. “I pay attention,” you dodge.
Summary: you lecture jonathan about daddy issues and then have an intellectual debate about healthy relationships, you play Mr. Love Dr with Steve, nancy and jonathan go on a sick side quest (and actually inform you this time !), meanwhile: you're about to put a leash on your damn brother.
Rating: general, some curing
Warnings: use of y/n, fem!reader, cursing, slight reference to billy being mean and trauma
Words: 6.7k
Before you swing in: hello ! my first day of spring semester is tomorrow, so here's a quick lil chapter for yall :) i wont have a lot of time to update as frequently anymore, but i promise i will continue to update as much as i can <3 in the meantime, enjoy this chapter n have a lovely day my dears !!
-
Like most mornings, you’re up and ready before Dustin has even woken up.
“Dustin! C’mon, wake up! Jonathan will be here soon and–” You try to open your brother’s door, but it’s locked. “What the–? Dustin! Hello?”
You begin pounding on his door, trying and failing to get in, and right as you’re about to break the door down, your mom comes in from the kitchen. “Y/N, Dusty has already left.”
“Left? Like, he went to school already?” No way in hell that kid has just decided to get up and ready for school any earlier than he needed to. That kid could sleep thirty hours if given the chance.
“Yup! He left pretty early this morning, said he had a test to study for.” Your mom says as she wanders back towards the kitchen to make her usual cup of coffee.
“Huh,” you’re starting to worry that maybe Dustin is hiding something. First he blocked the door from you last night, now he’s supposedly leaving early for some test? He’s hiding something, you know he is. What worries you, though, is that Dustin hasn’t felt the need to hide anything from you since the whole El fiasco.
Which hadn’t ended well.
As you’re lost in thought, mentally going through Dustin’s actions these last few days, Jonathan walks through your front door, keys in hand.
“Hey, bug. Ready to go?”
“Yeah,” you shake your head to clear any more thoughts. You’ll interrogate Dustin later. “Let me grab my bag, one sec.”
Jonathan nods before he’s attacked by your mom, who pulls him into a hug squeals. “Jonathan!”
“You saw me last night, Mrs. Henderson.” He pats her back awkwardly, mouthing “help me” towards you, but you only laugh and grab your bag from your room.
As soon as you have your stuff, you and Jonathan head out. You sneak some glances at him while he drives, memories from last night crashing back. The party… Well, who could’ve seen any of that coming? Considering how shitty the night turned out, Jonathan looks better at least. However, the bruises on his knuckles make you frown.
“I’m sorry about Billy,” you say, grabbing the bruised hand. His skin is rough against yours, but familiar all the same.
Jonathan gives you an incredulous look. “You’re sorry?”
“Yes…?”
“Bug, no. We aren’t doing this.” He shakes his head, pulling his hand away to run it through his hair. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Billy was being a piece of shit, you needed my help, so I did what any sane person would do.”
You’re silent, not used to having such aggression from Jonathan aimed at you. He’s not necessarily mad at you, but you and him have had some issues in the past about stuff like this. You’ve always apologized for other people’s actions, as if you getting hurt is somehow always your fault. He hates that you do it.
You hate that you always do it. But you can’t help it, it’s almost second nature at this point.
Jonathan, reading your mind, sighs. His anger dissipates and he grabs your hand now, kissing your knuckles softly. “I’m sorry for yelling. I just… You mean the world to me, Y/N. I love you, I will always be there for you. I’d punch Billy a million more times if I needed to, without you ever having to ask me.”
“I know, but–”
“If you feel guilty I will pull this car over and shake your pretty little head until I finally knock some sense into it.”
Finally, you laugh. “Now that’s just dramatic.”
“Do I need to pull over?”
“No,” you raise your hands up in surrender. “I’ll shut up now.”
Jonathan nods his head. “Good, just the way I like it.”
You smack his chest, and he fake screams in pain. He makes a show of it, hunching himself over while he drives and clutches at his chest, which you giggle at. He’s laughing as well, and it’s one of your “normal” moments that have become so few and far between. Just you and Jonathan, giggling in his car early in the morning as you drive to school, your laughter is just enough to keep the two of you warm.
Jonathan’s ladybug ring catches the morning light and the bee wrapped around your neck buzzes against your skin.
But “normal” never lasts long anymore, and you remember Nancy’s drunken eyes from last night and Steve’s loneliness in his voice when he asked you why everyone keeps leaving him. The memories cause your giggles to fade off, the small moment of joy now gone.
Jonathan sees your mood change and, because he’s always on the same page as you, purses his lips. “So… It’s now tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” you sigh, remembering telling him last you’d talk about Steve and Nancy tomorrow. “It’s now tomorrow.”
“Why’d you insist on driving Steve home?”
The question is innocent enough, but you sense that how you answer it could change things. “He was upset.”
“Sure, but you almost bit my head off when I last asked about that guy. Then you wanted to drive him home?” Jonathan keeps his eyes on the road ahead of him, though he clenches his jaw ever so slightly. But you see it. You always see it.
“Bee… I had to, okay? Please, can we just leave it at that?” You don’t want to talk about your fucking feelings with the first boy you’ve ever loved, the boy who doesn’t love you back.
Jonathan swallows, takes another deep breath, and then nods. “I took Nancy home, like Steve asked. She was… Very drunk. Had to carry her into bed.”
“I’m sorry about that, too.”
“You didn’t shove alcohol down her throat.”
“No, but I did encourage her to go to that stupid party while she was fighting with Steve.”
“Steve and Nancy have been fighting?”
Shit. You forgot that Jonathan didn’t know.
“Okay, yes” you say, but right as Jonathan’s eyes light up, you’re quick to backtrack. “But if I tell you anything else, you have to swear to keep it between us. Got it?”
“I won’t say a word.”
You sigh, really hoping you aren’t breaking Nancy’s trust. Technically, she hadn’t asked you to keep your conversation from yesterday private, but… It feels wrong telling Jonathan about it. “Nancy and Steve have been fighting, yes, but not in the way you’d think.”
You’ve arrived at school, so Jonathan quickly parks the car before motioning for you to keep talking. “Go on, I’m curious now.”
“God, you’re a worse gossip than I am. Anyways, she’s mad at Steve for brushing off Barb’s death, in a sense. But also, like… Steve isn’t really brushing off Barb’s death? I think he just wants to help Nancy, those are his intentions, but he doesn’t know how. He thinks dinner dates, going to parties, and spending a lot of time together will get her mind off of things.”
Jonathan scoffs. “Well, babying Nancy won’t help.”
“I know, and you’re right, but Nancy should have expressed this to Steve better, don’t you think? I mean, we don’t know what happened last night, but it seems like she tried drinking away her anger towards him rather than actually talking to him.”
“And how can we know Steve wouldn’t just run away or something? Actually be up for it, be proactive rather than retroactive. It seems like Nancy needs to do something about Barb’s death.”
Frustration builds within you. “And what good does assuming something actually do? Assuming that Steve wouldn’t listen is wholly unfair and honestly, a bit rude. He’s her boyfriend, she can’t just assume he wouldn’t care. Steve has done everything he can to show he cares, that he loves her, so I think Nancy should be the one to voice her feelings and let him know what she needs. What she wants.”
Jonathan looks away. “And what should Nancy want, bug?”
You’re silent.
Somehow, you and Jonathan aren’t fighting about Steve and Nancy anymore.
“I… I don’t know.” You look out the window, watching as students pass by.
After a tense silence, Jonathan tries to crack a joke. “Oh, you’ll laugh at this! Caught Bob sneaking out the house like some shameful teenage boy this morning.”
You turn towards him now. “Why would I laugh at that? I think it’s sweet, your mom seems happy.”
“Sure, but…” Jonathan’s smile falters, not expecting you to be so stoic as a reaction. “He’s kinda a loser, you gotta admit.”
“Jonathan Byers, I literally had to save you from bullies, five times my size, as a girl, when we were twelve.”
“Okay, I didn’t mean it like that–”
“You should be nicer about Bob. He’s a good guy, he actually cares about you, Will, and your mom. After the hell you guys went through with Lonnie, you should be appreciative of Bob.” You’re so angry now, your fists shake with rage. “You have a healthy father figure in your life now, which I would kill to give Dustin, and even if you don’t like him, you’re luckier for it.”
Jonathan is quiet. He’s staring down at his steering wheel in shame, and you feel bad for snapping so suddenly. You aren’t sorry for your anger towards him, his attitude towards Bob has been bothering you for a while. However, it doesn’t mean you have to be a bitch about it just because of your own issues surrounding shitty dads.
“I’m sorry, bee. You have a right to feel uncomfortable about the change, but I just think you should give Bob a chance. I like the guy.” You offer, looking over at your friend tentatively.
“No, you’re right. I know you are, it just takes some getting used to, I guess.” He grabs your hand, gives it a squeeze as if to tell you it’s all good now, and you squeeze his hand back.
“Great drive to school today,” you quip.
Jonathan laughs. “God, I think I had about five heart attacks during those conversations.”
The tension leaves the car. Then, slowly, the warmth creeps back in as you and Jonathan once again start laughing. You’re not sure why you’re even laughing, but you’re happy that you are.
Jonathan walks you to your locker, as he always does, and before he turns to head to his, you notice how quiet it is in the hallway. You look over at Nancy’s locker, which somehow always manages to be near yours every year, and frown when you don’t see her.
“There’s a suspicious lack of Nancy and Steve making out against her locker this morning.” You tell Jonathan.
He looks around and notices you’re right. The two of you share a concerned glance, knowing that their absence can’t mean anything good for the couple.
“Should we go look for them?” He asks, but you’re already heading towards the parking lot to find Steve. “Y/N!”
“Go find Nancy!” You call behind you, speeding up. “I’ll meet you at first period!”
Steve’s car is hard to miss in the parking lot. Hawkins isn’t necessarily a flashy town. No one else besides the Harringtons owns a fancy BMW. You approach the car and spot Steve sitting in the front, his head ducked down as if no one can see his massive red car and easily identify him.
Idiot.
Steve is having a rough week, so he’s spent the last five minutes in his car debating on whether or not he can afford to skip his first class. Reasonably speaking, his dad would kill him. He already has shit grades and he’s missed three college application deadlines. All he has left is Tech. However, his girlfriend told him last night she doesn’t love him and Billy embarrassed him in front of everyone last night.
Plus Nancy left with Jonathan, which everyone saw.
He told him to take her, but still.
Pretty embarrassing.
Yup. Alright. He’s going home.
Steve reaches over for his keys to turn the car on, but before he can, a knock on his window stops him. He looks up, scared Billy will be there, but instead he sees you and he’s not sure if his day just got better or worse.
“Let me in, dingus.” Your voice is light, but still stern, and yeah. Steve’s day just got better.
He unlocks the door and you silently get into the passenger seat. As you get settled in, he thinks about the first time he ever had you in his car. It feels like a lifetime ago, Steve’s heart had been beating wildly taking the risk of offering you a ride.
It had been the start of something, he could feel it.
But then you left him that summer without another word, as if nothing had happened between the two of you. As if Steve hadn’t slowly come to find himself opening up to someone, trusting that you’d let him be whoever he wanted; he could just be Steve around you, not King Steve or even perfect boyfriend Steve.
Now Steve’s hiding out in his car, no longer King Steve or even good fucking boyfriend Steve, and instead of his girlfriend seeking him out to comfort him, it’s you. Because of course it’s you.
“Hey,” you say.
“Hi.”
“You know that senior study hall is inside the school, right?”
Steve looks over at you, not necessarily amused, but flattered nonetheless. “You know my class schedule?”
A blush spreads across your face as you look away from him, but Steve still sees it and something flutters in his chest. He’s always thought you were pretty when you blushed, but you’re even prettier when he’s the reason why.
“I pay attention,” you dodge.
Steve wants to tease you some more, play into the banter he missed the most when the two of you weren’t talking, but his heart isn’t in it. Nancy’s words kept him up all night. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could hear was her telling him that she didn’t love him. After he did everything he possibly could’ve done right, it still hadn’t been enough.
“Did Nancy get home okay?”
You give him a small smile. “Yeah, I just talked to Jonathan about it.”
Relief floods through Steve. At least that’s one thing he hadn’t fucked up last night. “Good… I’m glad then.”
He awkwardly clears his throat and looks away again. He doesn’t know what he’s doing anymore. He feels lost, floating through his morning. Nothing has felt real since yesterday in the library with Nancy, when she had been looking up at him with those eyes he’s always been weak for.
“Any particular reason you’re hiding out in your car?”
Steve lets out a bitter laugh. “You were there last night. You know what happened.”
“Actually, I don’t.” You see the disbelief on Steve’s face and quickly correct yourself. “I mean, I remember you saying something about Nancy but… I don’t want to assume, so…”
Now you’re the one looking away in shame, and Steve watches as you nervously fiddle with your fingers and bite your lip. You’re trying. Though Steve still isn’t sure how to feel about you, how much to test this new compromise between you two, this “friendship”, Steve knows he has to at least try as well.
He takes a deep breath. “Nancy… She isn’t in love with me.”
A beat of silence passes.
“Steve, I mean, are you sure–”
“Pretty fucking sure, Y/N. Unless you think someone telling their boyfriend ‘like we’re in love’ means she’s madly in love with him.”
Another beat of silence passes. Steve can see the pity in your eyes, and he hates it. He fucking hates this, feeling so pathetic and small.
Then, your hand slowly intertwines with his and the anger in Steve’s chest lessens a bit. “I know my words don’t mean anything, but… Nancy not being in love with you has nothing to do with you as a person.”
Something untangles in Steve’s chest; you’ve reassured him of something he hadn’t even known had been his fear. How do you always seem to decipher what he’s feeling before he can?
“How do you know?” Steve has never felt so small before.
You shrug, but there’s a calculated nonchalance to it that he can easily see. “Because I know you. You’re frustratingly charming, Harrington.”
Steve laughs, something he didn’t even know he was able to do anymore. “That’s your takeaway here?”
“Mhm,” you squeeze his hand and Steve has never felt this grounded before by such a small action. “I say you need to talk to Nancy, I mean really talk to her. No more half truths and appeasements. I think she does love you, in her own way, but the circumstances aren’t on your guys’ side. I mean, she went through hell and back last year, Barb’s death anniversary is soon.”
You pause for a moment and frown, which Steve has come to learn means you’re carefully choosing which words to say next. “I want you to know, no, I need you to know, that this has nothing to do with you. Okay?”
Steve wants to believe you, god he really wants to, but even he can see the blaring irony of you telling him that Nancy’s lack of love for him has nothing to do with him personally. You, the girl he came to trust more than anyone else in this awful town, ditched him in the same manner. Steve’s the common denominator there. He’s always the one left behind.
“Look, I appreciate what you’re saying, but the words don’t mean a whole lot coming from you right now,” Steve tells you, and he hates the way your eyes darken, as if guarding yourself from him. “I know we agreed on being friends again, but I just… I need some time.”
You nod, as if you expected something like that from Steve, and he almost wants to just drive away with you in the car and pretend that nothing else exists. Instead, he clears his throat, his tongue feels heavy and his throat threatens to close up, but he forces himself to get the words out. “I want to be alone, please.”
He really doesn’t want to be alone, but his brain is swimming in confusion and you’re still holding his hand and Steve just needs a moment to himself to just breathe.
“Of course,” you tell him, because of course you listen and understand. “You know where to find me, yeah?”
Steve nods. He does.
“Bye, Y/N.”
You give him a small wave in response, close the car door, and then make your way back to the high school.
Steve watches you fade into the distance.
He’s alone again.
Jonathan makes it to first period with only seconds to spare. He throws himself into his seat next to you with panting breaths. Your history teacher, Mrs. Kent, drones through attendance without having noticed anything.
“I couldn’t find Nancy.” Jonathan whispers, before his name is called and he quickly raises his hand and says, “Here.”
You glance at the chalkboard and then flip your textbook to the page scrawled on it. “I found Steve wallowing in his car, alone. Guess he didn’t drive Nancy to school?”
“Seems a bit harsh.”
“May I remind you of the time you threw a jacket at my face and then screamed at me that we aren’t family? All because you felt guilty about taking naked photos of Nancy?”
Jonathan drops his head onto the desk, letting out a groan. “I’m never living that down, am I?”
You keep your eyes on the board, taking a few notes. “Nope.”
Class starts up now, so the topic is left alone. The school day passes on, you and Jonathan separating for your own classes after history is done. The day drags on for a while, though you hear a few whispers in the hall about how Jonathan had taken home a drunk Nancy.
“God, it’s like she loves the attention.” One girl giggles with her friend while you’re at your locker.
Her friend rolls her eyes. “Please, as if anyone would choose Byers over Steve Harrington.”
“I’m more of a Wheeler fan myself,” you tell the girls, not even sparing them a glance. “Now, why don’t we all just shut up and move away from my locker?”
The girls scurry away, fear in their eyes, and you simply shake your head at them. Why is Nancy always the one those girls gossip about? Objectively speaking, Steve has done much more heinous things than getting a ride home from a friend while drunk.
Jonathan kisses your cheek as he walks up from behind you, breaking you from your thoughts. “Hey, bug. Lunch at my car today?”
“Ugh, it’s such a nice day today, I’d love to.” You grab your lunch from your locker. Once you have it, you link your arm through Jonathan’s. “Guide the way, good sir.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Nancy is leaning against Jonathan’s car when you walk outside.
Her shoulders are slouched and you can see the unease on her face. She looks tired, too. A few people walk by her and stare, whispering as they go, and you really hate high schoolers sometimes.
When you make it to Jonathan’s car, Nancy holds her lunch bag up awkwardly. “Can I join you guys?”
“I’m sure we can make some room.” You tell her, which she smiles at.
It takes some adjusting, but eventually the three of you manage to fit on the front of the car. You sit on the roof, your legs dangling off of the side, while Nancy and Jonathan take the front. The early November sun beats down on you three, but the cool breeze makes the sting less painful. It’s a lovely day, all things considered.
You’re nibbling on your sandwich when Nancy exhales deeply and turns to you. “Y/N, you’d always tell me the truth, right?”
“Depends,” you take another bite out of your food. “What is this in reference to?”
“Last night… I don’t remember what I did.”
There’s a certain shame in her eyes that tells you she encountered Steve before retreating to Jonathan’s car. “You spoke to Steve this morning, I take it?”
She looks at you, surprised. “How did you–”
“We talked to him last night.” Jonathan cuts her off, looking between you and Nancy nervously. He’s not sure where you, her, and Steve all fall in regards to each other.
“So, he asked you to take me home?” Nancy faces him now, and you go back to eating.
“Yeah. Yeah, I mean he was upset…” He glances at you briefly before looking back at Nancy. “I mean, he was really upset.”
“I don’t blame him.” You cut in, mouth full of chips you stole from Jonathan.
He sends you glare and keeps talking. “But he was still worried about you, Nance.”
Nancy drops her head down and a part of you feels bad for the quip. She really does look ashamed, but you distinctly remember warning her about this exact thing last year in the school’s shed. She had tried telling you there wasn’t anything between her and Jonathan, and all you could tell her was that Steve didn’t deserve to be lied to or cheated on.
Guess she only kept one end of that bargain.
Jonathan sees that she’s upset and he softens his voice, scooting closer to her. “Hey, you need to cut yourself some slack, okay? People say stupid things when they’re wasted. Things they don’t mean.”
You bite your tongue. Hard. If you allow yourself to speak, you won’t be able to guarantee it’ll be anything nice. Sure, being drunk can influence some words to slip out, but cruelly telling your boyfriend of over a year that you don’t love him is something you can’t defend. Not when Nancy had other chances to tell Steve.
Nancy whips her head up. “Yeah, but that’s the thing. What if I did mean it? All this time, I’ve been trying so hard to pretend like everything’s fine, but it’s not.”
You and Jonathan share a look. He seems more curious, you can feel the anger burning through your eyes.
“No offense, Nance.” You wipe your hands on a napkin and force the girl to look at you. “But this is really something that you should be talking to Steve about. Remember our conversation from last year?”
Nancy looks down again in shame. “You’re right, I know you are, but… I don’t know. I feel like there’s this…” She pauses, trying to figure out how to explain her thoughts, but Jonathan finishes for her.
“Like there’s this weight you’re carrying around with you. All the time. I feel it, too.” He says, then he flicks your leg. “Y/N does as well. She tries to hide it, but I know she feels it as much as I do.”
Now it’s you who turns away, embarrassed and ashamed. Clearly you haven’t been so good at hiding your neverending guilt over Will.
“Yeah, but it’s different for you guys. Will came home.” Nancy says.
You open your mouth to speak, to correct the girl’s horrible viewpoint, but Jonathan surprises you by correcting her himself. “Yeah, he did. But he’s not the same. I try to be there for him, you know, to help him, but… I don’t know.”
“Dustin still has nightmares.” You admit, which Jonathan hadn’t known.
“I thought those went away, bug.”
You shake your head at him. “No… If anything, they’ve only gotten worse. Some nights he sleeps in my bed, says I calm him down, but I just… I feel horrible, knowing I left them alone that night at the middle school. The things he saw… god.”
Nancy and Jonathan sigh, understanding how painful the weight of guilt can feel.
A silence follows your confession.
Then, because you hate when there’s silence, you try to go back to the previous topic. “Anyways, Nancy, what we’re trying to say is that we understand. And I’m sure Steve will, too. He was also there that night, at Jonathan’s. You should talk to him, explain the weight within you. Steve, he…”
You find yourself pausing, unsure if what you’re about to tell Nancy is something Steve would want you to keep between you two, but he misses her. He loves her, so you try to fix whatever you can between them. “He thinks he did something wrong, that he’s unlovable. It isn’t fair to make someone feel that way.”
Nancy sighs. “I didn’t know that.”
“I know, but now that you do, you should probably do something about it. You guys can still go back to how things were.”
Jonathan frowns. “What if things can’t go back to the way they were? I mean, Will still thinks he’s in the Upside Down sometimes. I’ve seen the way Dustin gets scared when he hears a loud noise.”
A phantom pain shoots through your ankle. It’s long since healed, but sometimes memories from last year still sting. As you’re absentmindedly rubbing at it, Nancy notices and starts to get upset.
“Doesn’t that make you mad?”
“Mad?” You and Jonathan ask at the same time.
Nancy seems to almost come back to life, her anger now bringing energy back into her. “Yeah, that those… Those people who did this, who ruined so many lives, they just get away with it.”
“The people responsible for this, they’re dead.” Jonathan gently reminds her.
Nancy leans in close, bitterness in her voice as she narrows her eyes. “Do you really believe that?”
Jonathan frowns again and you do the same. If you’re being honest, you were also pretty skeptical about the whole evil scientists at Hawkin’s Lab all dying. Seemed like a pretty convenient thing to happen. But what else are you supposed to believe?
Nancy looks between you and Jonathan and sighs again. You know she’s upset by your unwillingness to look further, to question everything, but then you watch as her eyes drift towards some kid with his headphones and his walkman. Something shifts in her gaze and you know immediately that she’s thought of something.
You scoot closer in a hurry. “Nancy, whatever it is–”
“Your mom’s boyfriend,” she looks over at Jonathan. “He works at RadioShack, right?”
“Yeah… Why?” Jonathan looks over at you as if you have any possible explanation, and you just shrug at him. “What are you thinking?”
“Do you wanna skip fourth period?”
Immediately you hop down from the car. “No. Nope. Not happening. We aren’t doing this again.”
Nancy groans at you. “Y/N, I haven’t even explained my plan to you yet.”
“Okay, go on. Explain it, so I can then say no.”
Nancy does as she’s told, and it’s a fucking brilliant plan. You know it’ll work, and that’s why you can’t do it. Buying a tape recorder, planting a fake meetup with Barb’s mom to con the Hawkin’s Lab people into taking them in, and then recording whatever they confess to take it to the detective Barb’s parents hired.
It’s a genius plan, but you can’t leave the kids behind for that long.
“I can’t go.”
Jonathan looks disappointed. “Bug, don’t you want to make those assholes pay?”
“I do,” you reassure him. “But I can’t afford to leave the kids behind for two whole days. I mean, last time I did they opened a portal to another dimension. And Dustin has been acting weird lately, and Will’s been having those episodes more and more and I just… What if it’s happening again?”
Your voice shakes a bit with fear, and Jonathan pulls you into him. “We don’t know that.”
“But what if it is? Who would be there for them? We can’t just leave them to suffer the consequences alone while we’re trying to avenge them.”
While you’re still wrapped in Jonathan’s arms, Nancy rests her own hand against your shoulder. “I would feel better knowing the kids are in good hands. You’ve always been their biggest advocate.”
You thank the girl, but Jonathan still seems unsure about leaving you behind. “What about you? Who’s gonna be there for you if something happens?”
There, hidden underneath his words, you know he’s really asking how can I protect you if you aren’t within arm’s reach?
You bury your face into his chest, and Nancy seems to get the message and looks away. When you have some privacy, you look up at Jonathan. “I’ll be okay, bee. I promise. We can call every day you’re away, nothing will go uncommunicated this time. No secrets. You’ll be home in no time and I’ll be right here, safe and sound.”
He kisses your head. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”
“I should be telling you that.”
“Y/N…” he isn’t laughing, and you can hear how fast his heart is pounding. He’s terrified to leave you behind, but you know that this is what you have to do.
“I love you, and I’ll be right here. Come home to me, alright?”
“I will.” He promises, and you look into his eyes and see all the warmth and sincerity that you’ve come to love so much, and you believe him.
After a few moments, you finally pull away from him. You clear your throat and turn towards Nancy. “Okay, now that we’ve got that settled, I’m assuming I’m covering for y’all?”
She nods. “If you wouldn’t mind, can I tell my mom I’m at your place?”
“Duh, and Jonathan,” you flick his forehead, breaking the remaining tension away. “I’ll tell your mom you’ll be at my place as well. Sound good?”
He nods as well, though his eyes linger on you longer than they should.
“Well!” You clap your hands and stand between Nancy and Jonathan. “Great team meeting, gang. Let’s reconvene in two day’s time.”
Nancy laughs and pulls you into her own hug.
“I’ll keep him safe,” she whispers into your ear, and you exhale shakily. The weight of everything has finally settled in. You can’t believe you’re doing this. A part of you feels like you’ve just solidified something horrible, not agreeing to come along, but the other part of you, maybe even the larger part, is secretly relieved.
You’re not sure what to make of it.
“Thank you.” You whisper back, squeezing her tightly.
When you break apart, you pull Jonathan into yet another hug. “Stay safe, bee.”
“I will.”
“Good,” you pull away and give the two teens a thumbs up. “Break a leg, go expose some weird government agency!”
True to your word, you cover for Jonathan and Nancy the rest of the day. Teachers ask where they are and you simply tell them they both had a family emergency. Thankfully, due to living in such a small and rundown town, they don’t question it.
After school, you head over across the street to the middle school to go pick up Will and Dustin. Since Jonathan drove you to school and took his car with Nancy, you’ll have to hitch a ride on your brother’s bike pegs to work.
When you reach the school you walk towards the bike rack, expecting to see the boys all standing there about to leave, but you stop when you realize that they aren’t.
Huh. Odd.
You wander around. It’s been years since you’ve been inside the middle school, and the hallways are filled with memories. You walk towards the AV room, figuring they’re probably there to discuss whatever new project they’re working on. As you round the corner, you hear pounding and a girl’s voice demanding to be let in.
Speeding up, you spot Max with her angry fists. “Guys! What’s going on? C’mon!”
You watch for a moment, curious as to who this girl is. Dustin spoke highly of her, yet her brother is the worst person you’ve met in your life. She has an anger in her, that much is obvious, but then she grabs something from her bag and begins to pick at the lock.
Hm, she’s smart.
“Need some help?” You ask her.
She looks up at you and frowns. “And who are you?”
“Y/N Henderson. Unfortunately, the idiot that I’m assuming is locked inside the room is my brother.”
“You know how to pick a lock?” Max asks, eyeing you up and down.
Shrugging, you say, “can’t be too hard.”
Max seems to accept that as an answer and slides over, making room for you to crouch down next to her. You help her jimmy the paperclip into the door. Then, you hear some muffled yelling from the other side. What the fuck has your brother gotten up to this time?
“I’m gonna put a leash on that kid,” you mumble, and Max laughs.
“Do they do this a lot?”
You blow a piece of hair out of your face. “Yeah. They’re weird, honestly–”
The lock clicks, the door flings open, and suddenly a tiny, slimy creature comes scampering out the room. You hear the boys curse and before you can get up and out of their way, they come crashing into you and Max on the ground.
“Shit!” Dustin knees your forearm and you groan.
“Y/N!” His eyes widen when he sees you. He’s been caught.
Max gets up. “What was that?”
Lucas ignores her. “He’s getting away!”
“Who is getting away?” You’re finally up as well, watching as the boys start to scramble around in a panic.
Mike, seemingly unsurprised by your sudden appearance, turns to you. “Dart!” Then, in annoyance, he turns towards Max. “You let him escape!”
“What the fuck is a Dart?” You’re freaking out now. Lucas, hearing your confusion, can only shrug his shoulders at you.
Then, Dustin angrily advances towards Mike and starts yelling in his face. “Why did you attack him?”
Mike doesn’t say a word, he just starts to run down the hall. Dustin, even more in a panic, screams at him, “Don’t hurt him! Don’t you hurt him!”
You grab at your brother’s jacket and fling him back, now incredibly fucking angry. “Dustin Henderson, you have three seconds to explain what the fuck is happening.”
Lucas, Max, and Will stand back, frightened by your anger. Dustin, the only one who ever seems to face this anger, gulps. “I can explain.”
“Start. Talking.”
And he does. He explains how he had found Dart last night, thinking it had been some new lizard breed previously undiscovered. That’s why he hadn’t let you into his room. Then, to prove he was some scientific prodigy and, which he doesn’t tell you but you suspect, to impress Max.
“I was about to show Mr. Clark before Mike came in and took Dart. According to Will…” Dustin looks over at Max, lowers his voice, and whispers to you, “he’s from the Upside Down.”
And there it is.
There, the dread that has been creeping up on you ever since you saved Will, comes crawling up. You knew this would happen eventually. It’s happening again. You were right.
God, it’s happening again.
Thank fuck you stayed behind with the kids.
You want to throw up, crawl into a ball and pretend nothing else exists anymore, but Dustin is looking at you with fear in his eyes and you know you have to be strong for him. For all the kids, now. “Okay, let’s split up and find Dart.”
Dustin nods and sends Will southbound, Lucas westbound, and Max towards the gymnasium. You go with him, both because he’s your brother and because you have a few choice words you’d like to say to him. Everyone takes a walkie and splits up.
Mike is already long gone, which you’re not surprised by.
After everyone leaves, you snap at Dustin. “Thanks so much for telling me about Dart, by the way.”
“Y/N…”
“What exactly did you think you’d do with that thing hidden in our house?”
“Continue to hide it from you–ow!” Dustin rubs the back of his head.
You continue to walk. “You deserved that.”
“I did.”
You laugh, but then you feel a sense of static behind you. You turn around, but there’s no one there. But the static had felt like the same electricity that had accompanied El’s powers last year, but… No. She’s gone. You know she is.
Brushing it off as paranoia, you continue to keep an eye out for Dart. “So, what does Max think about all this?”
“Mike won’t let us tell her.” Dustin says, annoyance in his voice.
This doesn’t shock you. “I get why. I mean, we all almost died last year.”
“Yeah, but she’s different. She’s cool, I think she could be good for the party.”
Dustin seems so eager, and you feel bad for denying the boy. “She’s too young. You’re all too young for this. We can’t rope her any further into the Upside Down. It wouldn’t be fair to her.”
Your brother sighs. “I mean, I guess… but–”
Will’s voice suddenly comes through the walkie. “Guys, I found him.”
“Where?” Dustin fumbles with the walkie, almost dropping it in his frantic rush to answer.
“In the bathroom by Mr. Salerno’s.”
“Copy that.” Mike says.
You look over at Dustin. “Race you to the bathroom?”
“You’re on.”
The two of you start to run, and at first you’re winning. But then you forget that you haven’t been in the school for at least three years now and you take a wrong turn, misremembering where Mr. Salerno’s room is. “Shit!”
You backtrack, but Dustin is long gone now.
By the time you get your bearings back, Lucas, Mike, and Max have all run down the hallway towards the bathroom. You join them as you all run inside. Dustin is standing in the middle of the bathroom, which you find strange.
Mike looks around. “Where’s Dart?”
“I don’t know. Not here.” You eye your brother, but he averts your gaze.
“Will said he was here.” You remind him, but Dustin doesn’t respond.
Mike curses and starts checking all the stalls.
“Maybe Will has him?” Dustin says, but you keep an eye on him. Something isn’t right.
You’re about to call Dustin’s bluff, accuse him of lying, when Mike suddenly freezes. He looks around, then turns to you. “Where’s Will?”
You turn around and finally notice that yeah, Will isn’t here. But he had just radioed from the bathroom.
“I… I don’t know.” Fear settles in you now, and you have an awful feeling that something bad is about to happen. After his episode from the night before…
You run out the bathroom, the first to start looking for Will.
-
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ourloveisforthelovely · 3 months
Text
The Family (Part 1)
Regulus Black AU
Request: Can you write a story where Regulus and the reader have been best friends for years. After Hogwarts, they move to France and get married without telling The Blacks? After being away a few years, they come back and surprise everyone.
Parings: Regulus Black x Reader
___
“You know that my family isn’t friendly…right?”
You looked up from your dressing table. Regulus sat on the bed looking at you with a slightly worried look.
“Like I’m concerned. I can be unfriendly too. Let fire meet fire.”
You chose to ignore the little wince that your “husband” gave you. It was no secret that Regulus was worried about facing his parents after eloping. This was the most “un-Regulus” like thing that he had ever done in his life. Meeting the repercussions of his actions was now beginning to worry him.
It had been nearly three years since Regulus had seen or talked to his family. The two of you had been hiding out in France. After moving back to England, it was time to face the proverbial music.
“Y/n, I really don’t think that you know what you are getting into. My parents aren’t like your parents. Mine are deranged and…chaotic.”
You put your brush down before moving to settle yourself on Regulus’ lap. Reaching out you twirled your fingers around one of the curls that was about to fall into his eyes.
“Regulus, we have been best friends since we were 11. I know all about your family and their…ways. It's going to take a lot more than I am the almighty Walburga Black to scare me off. Granted, I do wish that I could have a mother-in-law to do fun things with but, hey, you get what you get. You, my love, are worth whatever those nutcases have to throw at me.”
You were relieved when Regulus smiled. It wasn’t often that a smile graced his face but when it did, your heart melted.
“Maybe, if I’m l lucky, mother will fall over dead from a heart attack and the rest of the family will just spontaneously combust.”
Regulus commented with a smile. He knew what he was getting into. Regulus knew that his family was about to have a fit when he brought his new “wife” home. He knew that evening’s dinner was bound to be a fiasco. You were the absolute last person that Walburga wanted Regulus to marry. She hated the fact that the two of you were best friends. The literal only reason why she finally shut up about it was the fact that you were a Slytherin and a pure blood.
“If you must be friends with that girl, fine. It isn’t like you are going to marry her one day.”
Regulus had never forgotten that comment from Walburga. He had been 13 at the time and told his mother that you were his friend. He had no intention of stopping being your friend. It didn’t matter how angry it made his mother. Regulus had banked on his “being his mother’s favorite” card to keep her from beating the stuffing out of him after that comment.
To Regulus’ relief, Walburga stomped off muttering to herself about wondering why her sons were so obsessed with the Potter children. She just couldn’t understand what was so fascinating that Regulus and Sirius couldn’t say no to. At the moment, that was enough for Regulus.
Now, however, things were different. Regulus had fallen in love with you. After a completely “innocent” kiss at 15, he was hooked. There would be hope in Regulus ever wanting to stay away. He couldn’t…not even if he tried.
The following years were full of Regulus keeping you away from any member of his family. No matter how many times you told him that you were ready to officially meet them and rip the “bandage” off, Regulus always said no.
“Reggie, I hate to break it to you but no one will be dropping dead of any heart attacks. Besides, your mother should expect something. We are always together. One would think that with as smart as she “claims to be”, she would have figured out that we have been together since 5th year. Like it or not, she will just have to get over it.”
“I hate knowing that I am taking you into that lion’s den.”
Leaning forward, you placed a soft kiss on Regulus’ lips. You hoped that some kind of physical contact would calm down his raging mind.
“Regulus, I want you to hear me. It will take a lot more than your family to scare me off. I knew what I was getting into when I said, I do. I know your parents aren’t like my parents. They will just have to accept that we are in love. If they can’t…then that is on them. That won’t be our problem.”
“But we have two things that will be their problem.”
Regulus commented as his grey eyes flickered to the corner of the room where your twin daughters sat playing. Both girls were not the least bit interested in the conversation that their parents were having. You looked at your daughters sympathetically before turning back to Regulus. He didn’t have to say it for you to know this was the other source of his panic.
“Maybe knowledge that they are suddenly grandparents will take them out.”
You suggested with a smile. Regulus couldn’t help but smile as you got off of his lap.
“I have to keep them safe from mum and dad. I don’t want them pushing their ideals on Matilda and Rose.”
Both girls looked up and gave Regulus matching little smirks before going back to their toys.
“Regulus, I have known you for a long time. I know that you won’t let them hurt the girls.”
Regulus was quiet a moment as he watched Matilda and Rose play. He coudln’t help but wonder why his own father wanted absolutely nothing to do with him until he had gotten older. Regulus wanted nothing more than to be a part of whatever it was his daughters were doing.
“What if being around them makes me act like…him?”
Regulus questioned. You moved to stand beside your husband. Reaching down, you wrapped your hand around his and squeezed gently.
“The fact that you are even worrying about it tells me that won’t happen. If it were your father, he would never even have that thought. He would just be uncaring and believe that children are to be seen and not heard.”
Before Regulus could comment, the doorbell rang.
“That will be your brother.”
Both twins' heads popped up as they stood up to toddle out of the room shrieking Sirius’ name.
You moved to walk out of the bedroom to answer the door but stopped to look back at Regulus.
“I mean it, love, you are nothing like your father and you won’t become him. Now let's get this exciting evening over so we can have something to laugh about later.”
Walking downstairs, you smiled seeing Sirius holding both Matilda and Rose. Both twins were trying to look through his shirt pocket for the lollipops that he always brought them.
“Mine!”
Matilda shrieked before taking the lollipop out of Rose’s hand. This resulted in Rose screaming “mine” right back at her sister. Sirius looked between both toddlers and sat them down. He handed each girl a lollipop before shaking his head.
“You both get one. No need for the yelling.”
“Thank you”
Matilda muttered before going to sit down at the little table in the corner. Rose patted Sirius’ leg and went to join her sister as Sirius started trying to wipe some sticky substance off of his face.
“I don’t want to know what that is.”
He commented as you handed him a wet cloth. Chuckling Sirius cleaned the gooey spot off before giving you a smirk.
“I never thought in a million years that my neat-as-a-pin brother would be open to being a father. I thought he would barf the moment that a kid drooled on him. So…are you two really going to subject yourself to a delightful dinner from hell with Norma and Norman Bates?”
You nodded.
“Its best we get this over with. The quicker we totally rock their words the faster it will be over>”
Sirius winced.
“I don’t think it will be that easy, love. So, how is Regulus handling it?”
“Like I’m about to fall through thin ice on a pond.”
Regulus commented as he walked into the room pulling on his suit jacket. Sirius turned to face his brother and gave him a sympathetic expression.
“Maybe she will have a heart attack? I mean telling her that you married Y/n and that you have kids will be a huge shock. What if she just kills over at the dinner table? Are you just going to leave her or will you call for help? Reg, what if dad kills over too? Wouldn’t that be great?!”
Regulus only wished that he could have Sirius’ level of enthusiasm at the moment.
“I’m not that lucky, Sirius. Look, the twins go to bed at 8. Try not to hype them up on sugar this time. The last time we didn’t get them to sleep until after 11.”
Sirius gave Regulus a cold scowl.
“Look last time, they asked for ice cream. Try saying no to those little faces.”
As if on command both Matilda and Rose gave Regulus their signature “I’m cute” face.
“Love you daddy.”
Matilda muttered. Rose nodded eagerly but didn’t give up a moment with her candy. Regulus shook his head.
“Love you too, princess.”
He turned back to Sirius discreetly giving him the middle finger.
“And you’re teaching them to suck up knowing very well that I can’ say no to them.”
Sirius chuckled to himself before moving to sit on the couch.
“Well, you’ll be okay.”
Glazing down at your watch, you turned to Regulus.
“We better get going if we want to make our appearance as planned.”
Regulus groaned.
“Damn.”
The two of you moved to kiss your daughters goodbye. Sirius gave you both a final look.
“If you need me, I’ll be there in a jiffy.”
“I’ll remember that. You should pray that I don’t kill her.”
Regulus replied before following you out the door.
A moment later, you stood beside Regulus outside of Grimmauld Place. Neither of you moved to knock on the door. After a moment, you turned to look at Regulus. His handsome features were set into a hard scowl.
“Reggie, remember what I said. You aren’t your father and are nothing like your family.”
Regulus nodded. Hearing those words come from your mouth always seemed to make him feel better. Right now, it was especially helpful because he felt as if he was throwing his family into the lion's den.
“We should get this over with.”
Regulus commented before knocking on the door.
A moment later, Kreacher opened the door. The elf’s eyes got huge seeing the one person that he loved most in the world.
“Master Regulus, you finally came home. Kreacher is delighted to see you.”
Kreacher turned his attention to you and frowned. He knew exactly who you were after hearing Walburga fuss about you for many hours. Regulus had followed Kreacher’s gaze and took a breath.
“Kreacher, this is my Y/n. I want you to treat her with respect.”
The elf didn’t look thrilled by the comment. He held back the vile comment that he wanted to make about the Potters being blood traitors. If there was one thing that Kreacher wouldn’t do, it was upset Regulus.
“Yes, Master Regulus. Please follow Kreacher. Dinner has just been served.”
Regulus tightened his hold on your hand as the two of you stepped into the house.
You had never been inside Grimmauld Place before. After stepping in the door it was as dark and gloomy as you expected. Nothing about this place screamed warm and welcoming.
“This makes me love my family all the more.”
You thought as you followed Regulus and Kreacher down the dark and gloomy hallway. At least, with your family, the home was always warm and welcoming. No one had to worry about being hexed over the dinner table.
Your thoughts stopped the moment that you stepped into the dining room. Just as you expected, the room grew silent. Multiple sets of cold eyes were initially upon you. You squeezed Regulus’ hand as Walburga stood up looking furious.
“Regulus, why is that girl here?”
Regulus took a breath. He didn’t expect much of a greeting from his mother.
“Hello, mother.”
He glanced to where his father sat. Orion was watching him with a hawk-like expression while his grandmother and grandfather took sips of their wine. Cygnus and Druella both were giving each other hesitant expressions as if to say “here we go.”
“I asked you a question, Regulus. It's been three years since we have seen you and you come home with this girl.”
Regulus swallowed, suddenly remembering just who the hell he was. If his mother wanted to play hardball then so could he.
“Yes, Mother it has been three years. Furthermore, this girl has a name, and its Y/n. I expect respect for my wife.”
Both Walburga and Orion went pale. Cygnus and Druella’s mouths dropped while Arcturus and Melania tilted their heads.
“Silly of me, but did you say wife?”
Walburga finally choked out.
“Yeah, he said wife. My name is Y/n. Just so you know, Walburga, I match people’s energy. You be nice to me and I’ll be nice to you. If you want to start shit, you better be ready to dance. That goes for all of you lovely people. Now, we are here in goodwill. We aren’t here for this to turn into some muggle soap opera-level crap.”
You watched as Walburga quickly began to stutter. She clearly did not expect that to come out of your mouth. Orion, meanwhile, was looking at you with a look of amazement.
“You wanted to see us. We are here but play your cards carefully. Remember that I’m the heir to this family.”
Regulus added in a calm even tone. Walburga continued to blink before turning to Orion. Orion gave his wife a cold glare before turning back to his son.
“I see that you couldn’t be bothered to tell us about any of this.”
Regulus smirked.
“Sorry, Father but we have been rather busy in France. There is more you should know. We have twin daughters. If you have any interest in seeing them, the lot of you will agree to my terms.”
Walburga sank back in her chair before grabbing Orion’s arm.
“They have children. Oh heaven help me, they have children.”
Orion didn’t say anything immediately as he glanced at his wife. He knew Walburga would kill him later but he had a feeling that she would do exactly as her son asked. In private, Walburga had been a wreck since Regulus moved away. There had been multiple times that she had shed tears over the subject. Of course, Orion would never tell Regulus this.
“Yes, we have children.”
You replied. Melania turned to her grandson with a gentle expression. Regulus had always been her favorite. Now seeing him as a husband and father made her extremely pleased. While she still could see the darling little boy that Regulus was, it was clearly time to see him as the man that he had become.
“You didn’t bring them with you, Regulus.”
Regulus’ cold expression softened as he addressed his grandmother.
“No, grandmother. I didn’t with reason. Our family has a talent for losing our tempers and acting out of places of anger. My daughters don’t need to be exposed to that. Before any of you lay eyes upon them, you’ll listen to what I have to say and agree to my terms.”
Orion leaned back in his chair with a scowl.
“We’re listening.”
___
@geeksareunique @jessyballet @knreidy1 @dumbbunnys-safes @siriuslyceleste @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @spideyxalmighty @lucasfilms77 @readtomeregulus @i-love-scott-mccall @iluvthe-marauders @justfinishthis @fific7 @woohoney @abaker74 @regulus-black-223048 @saramaple @missgorldafirst @f4iryluvy @s-we-e-t-t-ea @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-m @ivybeeloved @i-love-scott-mccall @panpride @bennyberry @gugggu6gvaii @jag9000 @quinis @haroldpotterson @mentally-unstable-hoe @daddyslittlevillainx @goldensunshineshit @marichromatic @melaninnbarbie @ravenhood2792 @play-morezeppelin @spideyxalmighty @lucasfilms77 @rubyroscoe1 @brokencasbutt67-writer @un-lovesherself @emiwrites3reads @padf00ts-l0ver
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bridenore · 3 months
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HD fic recs : Career - Aurors (part 1)
Here are a few recs where both Harry and Draco are Aurors. This is part one of three and focuses on shorter fics (up to 20k). Listed in alphabetical order, as always.
but first, we fight by @nv-md [8k]
Fighting with Draco Malfoy has never been quite this  thrilling…or this frustrating. Harry’s always horny, Draco’s in  denial, and there simply isn’t enough time in the day to fight crime and  watch your ex-archnemesis wash his arse. Or what it’s like to be in love with Draco Malfoy and have to see him naked in the goddamn shower.
Christmas With Draco by @dracogotgame [9k]
Harry tries to give a two year old Draco the best Christmas ever.
Dark Places by @bixgirl1 [8k]
Harry and Draco have been Auror partners and even friends for the last few years–damn good ones, at that–which is why Harry’s never tried to change their relationship despite his feelings.   Until, of course, they’re on assignment and get locked in a wardrobe together. Remix of Leontina’s “Pure Imagination”
Draco L Malfoy (the L stands for legs) by @starquestingfordrarry [1k]
Harry could spend the rest of his life in the embrace of Draco Malfoy’s legs. If he was lucky, he would.
Fall on the Earth by @dodgerkedavra [15k]
Harry Potter hates being separated from Draco Malfoy. Not because he’s in love with him, for Merlin’s sake! Because they’re Auror Partners. One time is all it takes for Draco to be attacked with an illicit potion. Until it wears off, Harry’s job is taking care of his partner. Harry thinks the effects of the potion can’t possibly be as serious as Robards says. He thinks wrong.
Feeling Everything (from lust to truth) by badjujuboo [7k]
The one thing Draco wanted from Harry was the one thing Harry wouldn’t give. But the sex was great
Fool rushes in by oldenuf2nb / @dianacopland [15k]
In a burst of unexplained magic, Harry Potter’s Auror partner Draco Malfoy has simply disappeared. Frantic with worry, terrified that something really terrible has happened to the other man, Harry realizes that what he feels for him just might be more than friendship.
The Great Magic Sex Mushroom Fiasco by @magnolia822  [6k]
Lost in the Siberian wilderness without food, Aurors Potter and Malfoy are forced to improvise, with unexpected consequences …
A House on Fire by @p1013 [5k]
For the last five years, Auror Draco Malfoy has walked into his office with hardly a glance at the illusioned window taking up the back wall. It looks out over an imagined London, a perfectly bright and brilliant view of the city that hides the smog and rain and dirt that clings to the city like a patina of time that can never be worn away. It's always a perfect summer's day with soft, white clouds that float through the painfully bright blue sky like a dream. He likes to imagine the gentle breeze that ripples the surface of the Thames brushing across his skin, since he'll never be able to actually feel it. After all, his office is located on the second floor and is, therefore, underground. Or at least that's what he did before the seventh of October, 2009.
if i could never give you peace by @poisonivy206 [17k]
There are all these bruises on Harry’s memory. A blond boy with a hand outstretched. On a broom. Walking the halls of Hogwarts like a ghost. Climbing up to the Astronomy Tower. On and on, the moments in which Draco Malfoy has cut into him, buried himself in him, until what held Harry together were all the ways in which he wanted to take Draco apart. And now his skin is so close, burning hot, his grip like a vice on Harry’s bicep, on the back of his neck. He smells like the forest, like ashes, like sweat and memories. Eleven years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Aurors Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are forcibly brought together by a new case that’s bound to reopen old wounds. Enter a Firewhisky problem, prejudices that never really go away, and an obsession as old as time.
Is This Love? by @phd-mama [3k]
Draco wouldn’t call himself a tender man. He fights the forces of evil for a living, trying his best to pay penance for the evil he’s done. He’s fought and killed in the name of duty, and when he’s not on duty, he tends either to play hard or retreat alone. He doesn’t lean on anyone, and he knows he’s not the first person anyone goes to when they need care. Comfort. That all changes tonight.
It Came Without A Warning by @p1013 [5k]
The locker room door had opened, not surprising considering how many other Aurors were involved in the sting, and there was a set of footsteps, ones Harry had learned to recognise over the last three months. “Malfoy?” he yelled. “Is that you?” “Piss off, Potter,” was the exhausted response, and though Harry knew his recalcitrant partner wouldn’t be able to see it, he smiled.
Little Talks by @femmequixotic and @noeeon [11k]
Draco’s been shagging the Head Auror for months now, and he’s sure it’s just a fling. Until Harry asks him to a Quidditch match, that is, and things go horribly wrong.
Observations by penguin474 [17k]
When his new Auror partner turns out to be Draco Malfoy, Harry isn’t pleased, but there are surprises waiting.
Pinky Promises Are Powerful Magic by megyal [12k]
Ickle Harry wants to stay with his newest hero.
The Safe House by @emmagrant01 [10k]
Aurors Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are forced to spend Christmas together in a safe house. Bet you can guess what happens. ;-)
Special Magic by lauren3210 [7k]
Harry was seriously considering the fact that his partner might be completely insane.
Summer Place by @wolfpants [14k]
Draco has the perfect life: a perfect house on a perfect street with his perfect husband. It’s all he’s ever wanted. So why does something still feel wrong? 
That which hurts (and is desired) by @shealwaysreads ( onereader ) [19k]
Draco was lying still, and pale, on a bed in a private room in St Mungo’s. The sheets were white, clean, enchanted against stains, vanishing the blood that kept spilling out of him. He hadn’t moved in two days. Not a twitch of his elegant fingers. Not a blink of his fierce eyes. Harry couldn’t even see the faint flutter of his pulse in his throat from where he stood at the foot of the bed, helpless, impotent, furious. There is nothing Harry wouldn’t do for the people he cares about. As it turns out, that might bring him everything he’s ever wanted.
Title of Their Sex Tape by @cibeewastaken [12k]
What are the Wizarding world’s most elite law enforcers doing when they aren’t catching criminals? It seems Auror Malfoy is often caught throwing food into Auror Potter’s mouth when he’s mid-yawn. This story isn’t about Draco throwing food at Harry. What it does have is: Undercover! Heists! Draco pining for Harry! Harry being oblivious, but also can’t help noticing how good Draco smells! Banters and jokes! That’s about it. 
To Be Out of Your Own (and consumed by another) by @cassiaratheslytherpuff [18k]
By now even Harry recognises the pattern; he’d be an idiot not to. He’ll have sex, and in the moment it’ll be amazing. In the moment he simply is, he feels without thinking. Good, bad, pleasure and pain, he can just let go and feel he isn’t the one in charge. Then he wakes up the next morning feeling disgusting and worthless and swears to never do it again. Still, it helps him forget about his stress, his anxiety and his hopeless crush on his Auror partner so he keeps going back.
What Real Thing? by @l0vegl0wsinthedark [12k]
They don’t cuddle, they don’t talk about their relationship (or lack thereof) and they certainly never fall asleep in each other’s arms.
The Way You Say My Name by InnerLilith [5k]
In which Malfoy calls Harry pet names to get him flustered and riled up, and Harry gets flustered and riled up because he secretly likes it. The problem is that Malfoy is only teasing…or is he?
When the Fallout Comes by @maesterchill [7k]
Draco Malfoy, hard-as-nails Hit Wizard, has a secret obsession. Well two of them. Or ten, depending how far that metaphor can stretch. It’s hard to put a finger on exactly when it tipped from the occasional off-hand observation into something more gripping, but suffice to say it’s now getting a touch out-of-hand. Hands. It’s Potter’s hands. He’s obsessed with Potter’s hands.
I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!
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devildomwriter · 4 months
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OBEY ME CHRISTMAS Masterlist
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Headcanons
They Get a Puppy For Christmas | Brothers • Others
You Gift Them Christmas Shirts | Brothers • Others
You Make Them Matching Christmas Pajamas
Their Favorite Christmas Song
A Christmas Song They Hate
Wrapping Presents
They Get Tangled Up in Christmas Lights
They React to Elf of the Shelf
You Decorate Christmas Cookies
You Make Gingerbread Houses
You Make Them Matching Sweaters (But They’re Really Itchy)
Ugly Christmas Sweater Party
Hallmark Movie Marathon With Them
Building a Snowman
You Introduce Them to the 12 Days or Christmas Tradition
Drabbles
Secret Santa
Secret Santa the Sequel *coming soon*
Tubing With Diavolo
Christmas Photo Fiasco
Diavolo Wants to Play Santa
Christmas Shirt Mix-Up
Mephistopheles Christmas Interview
Omswd x Reader
Everyone
Under the Mistletoe
Children Listen to Hear Sleigh-bells in the Snow (Brothers)
Children Listen to Hear Sleigh-bells in the Snow (Others)
Lucifer
I’ll Have A Blue Christmas Without You
Mammon
One Little Thing, A Ring | Part I • Part II • Part III • Part IV • Part V
Leviathan
Believe in What Your Heart is Saying
Satan
Keep it cookin in the pot, soon you got hot choc-o-lat
Asmodeus
To Sing a Love Song as We Stroll Along
Beelzebub
Heavenly Sleep
Bring Us Some Figgy Pudding
Belphegor
Heavenly Sleep
All Seem to Say, Throw Cares Away
Solomon
Baby It’s Cold Outside *coming soon*
Thirteen
City Sidewalks, Busy Sidewalks, Dressed in Holiday Style
Simeon
All Around Us, Frozen Halos
Hang Your Stockings and Say Your Prayers
Luke
Hang Your Stockings and Say Your Prayers
Raphael
All is Calm, All is Bright
O Hear the Angel Voices
Mephistopheles
Riding Through a Winter Wonderland
Barbatos
Deck the Halls With Boughs of Holly
Good Tidings to You
Diavolo
I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause
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muneca-lemon-steppa · 4 months
Note
can i just say that i am OBSESSED with your Alfie series. literally cannot get enough of it. Also!! Was wondering if you could write a fluff piece were reader gets injured and alfie comes to her rescuee? Your writing is so good <3
Hi my love! This ask was so so sweet! I am so glad you like the series, it was so much fun to share it with you guys, I know I tell y'all all the time but it's true! My heart is just so full I can't help it! And of course I can write some fluff! You know I love it hehe. I'm sorry this took a while but I hope you like it! This was actually inspired by my Thanksgiving fiasco this past year lmao. I was in charge of the turkey, mac and cheese, dessert, and potatoes. My little brother was my sous chef and I completely cut my thumb open and my brother almost passed out lmao. Anyway, sending all my love to you! - Mo
Ouch
Alfie Solomons x F!Reader, fluff, Warnings: injury, mentions of blood
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There is something so soothing about the kitchen. When the world is so chaotic and cold and uncertain, the kitchen is a haven. Here it’s safe and warm and systematic. The chops and bubbling of the stove are so rhythmic, any harshness of the day just falling off your shoulders in waves. Because here you could understand and set the temperature. Here you could control the outcome and be free. Even if you were trying something new, you could be confident in the knowledge that it would always have a good outcome. It was your favorite part of the day, just cooking with Alfie. You on one side with Alfie on the opposite, working separately to jointly create beautiful.
The only problem that came with cooking, was that it was a little too peaceful. You became too relaxed. And as Alfie was apt to remind you, it wasn’t good to be too relaxed around knives and hot stoves. But it was too easy. The steady hum of the fire and boiling. The pattern you’ve gone through many a time. Your body would take over like a dance from your childhood. Your hands knew what they were doing. Your mind could take a break. And she would wander. Things to be completed in the office tomorrow. That new quilt you were making for your mother. Alfie needing a haircut.
Stir.
I need to make time for that book this weekend
Pour.
Alfie looked so handsome today if it weren’t for that awful stain on his shirt
Stir
Mama and Papa asked us to come for Shabbat this week. I need to tell Alfie.
Chop
We should go to the park this week
Chop
I wonder if we can visit Rabbi Reuben as well
Chop
Alfie’s birthday is also coming up
Chop
I’m so excited for his birthday surprise
Slice
“AH!!! Oh God ah!!”
A long and deep line blossoms on your palm. Far too entrenched in your mind, you were completely missing how the knife was getting closer and closer to your hand. You quickly grab a nearby dish towel, tightly wrapping your hand to catch the trickle dripping to the wood on the floor. Alfie is quick to you though, loudly dropping the cutlery and bowl he was holding. "Shit! Sweet heart you alright? What d'ya do to yourself?"
"Nothing nothing Alfie darling! Just a little scrape I'm sorry!"
Alfie peered at the slowly soaking dishtowel and raised his thick blonde brows at you. Mustache quirking, indicating that once again, you are a terrible liar. Gently but without holding room for argument he unraveled your makeshift bandage as you winced. His mouth furrowed and grumbled, "Ah shit treacle. This is why I always tell you right? You can't be all day dreaming when you're working in here! You insist on not letting me help ya, and then there you go fucking filleting yourself!"
Cool tears start trickling down. It burned with the introduction of the air and the embarrasment of getting a nasty cut. Alfie sighed, wiping your tears with one hand has he cradled your injury in the other. If there was one thing he hated most in the world, it was seeing you cry. "Aw my dove, no tears yeah? Not too bad ain't it? Why I don't even think it'll need a stitch I wager. Just a little alcohol on it and a bandage and you'll be right as rain. C'mon my angel, let's get you better aye? Dinner can wait a few minutes."
Despite having a terrible temper and being completely and utterly impatient... Alfie Solomons was an incredibly gentle and tender nurse. Stern. Always stern. And teasing. And scolding. But gentle above all else. You winced and shed a small tear when Alfie poured the clear and horrendous smelling alcohol on your wound. He tutted and kissed your temple all the while telling you, "Maybe this'll teach you eh? Nothing like a war would to make you more smart about your surroundings."
You thanked your lucky stars you didn't need a stitch at all. Despite the blood it was really a shallow cut. Alfie wrapped your hand skillfully. Pressing a kiss right over the bandage as the final salve. As you whispered a chaste thank you, Alfie pulled you into his chest saying, "Now listen my dove. I don't like to baby you. You are a grown woman and I'm not one to tell woman how to conduct herself or her affairs. But I get worried about you. Always drifting off somewhere in that pretty head. Not watching yourself. Not wanting help. You have got to let me help you my darling. Yeah?"
You nod, kissing him to assure him that you are ok. He chuckles kissing you back. Pushing you to the dining room chair he teases you further, "Now my dear patient, it is imperative that you sit there and keep that hand elevated. Lots of rest of relaxation yeah?"
"Alfie! I have to finish dinner!"
"No I'm sorry treacle but it is the doctor's orders! Can't have you losing a finger next can we?"
You laugh and argue with him, eventually get him to compromise to allowing you to fill a pitcher with water and set the kettle on. No matter what the others of Camden said, they could never say that he wasn't a good man.
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anisespice · 11 months
Text
“ hate your boyfriend ” || tokyo rev. pt. 2
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synopsis: " you can pick me or your little boy. "
pairing: college!toman x gn!reader
warnings: mature language, sexual themes, MDI. toxic!toman, cheater!reader (pumpkin eater!!), enabling behavior, mild violence, vague descriptions of sex (cause i’m lazy), vulgar language, corny marvel joke, dirty-talk, moral compass is a roulette wheel in this one lol and i think that’s it :P 
notes: did a little continuation of the first one before doing more characters lol i’m happy you guys liked the concept, lemme know who you’d like to see next :))) i don’t hate this one, but i don’t love it either (except maybe mikey’s) buuuut hope yall enjoy! <333
tagged: @fantasycantasy , @spacegirl05​
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A week had passed since the whole kick-back fiasco, and MIKEY had gone awol. Aki was over the moon about it, for obvious reasons; as far as he was concerned, he scared him off. Besides, the less you hung around the delinquent, the better for both of you.
“That guy’s just a nuisance, babe. Good riddance.”
Little did he know, this was a regular occurrence. Mikey always did this—Disappeared for days on end, only to pop right back up like he never left. Whether it be due to gang related issues, or because he felt like it, this frustrating habit was one of the reasons you invited him that night, despite knowing he’d pick a fight with Aki. You had missed him…in more ways than one. You knew it was only a matter of time before he came back to you.
And in the wee hours of the night, not far after said boyfriend left your place, you received a lone message from the former blonde himself.
from : bad influence ♡ 11:03pm     “ omw. ”
Short, but effective. His timing was impeccable, how he always managed to text the second you were alone was beyond you, but it made your heart race all the same. It was wrong, you knew that, Aki deserved better than someone who snuck around. You didn’t mean for it to get this far, but that was a guilt you’d deal with later. Mikey was your drug of choice, and tonight you craved another fix.
to : bad influence ♡ 11:07pm       “ okay. but just for a little while. ”
Even if you tried to play coy, to salvage whatever weak moral you had left, it didn’t matter—The only one you were fooling tonight was Aki.
from : bad influence ♡ 11:08pm      “ mhm. sure, angel. ”
It was a wonder how you didn’t draw blood with how harshly you clawed at his shoulders, fighting between wanting him closer or wanting to push him away. Mikey didn’t mind, though. On the contrary, he encouraged you to leave marks. As tempted as he was to leave his own, he figured beating up your insides would suffice.
Knowing you’ll struggle to walk tomorrow was all the reward he needed.
“God—fuuck,” he slurred, after a particularly hard thrust made you arch off the bed, forcing him to sink deeper. He gazed down at you with an all too pleased grin as you begged him for more. How could he deny you when you sounded so desperate? “Taking me so well, angel…always so good f’me…”
“J-Jiro..! Ahplease!” You sobbed, your knees practically knocking upside your temples as he increased momentum. Mikey snickered, angling his hips to continue ramming the spot that made your eyes cross, moans reaching octaves you didn’t even know you could hit.
“Mm, been feening for this dick, huh? Yeah? Maybe we should call up that smug bastard, let ‘em see how such good friends we are, right [______]? Bet he was real proud thinkin’ he got me to fuck off…but we both know who you really belong to. Don’t we?”
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He wasn’t sorry. That’s the short end of it.
The moment Takeru decided to act all big and bad, breaking stuff in a place where he paid no bills, it was in DRAKEN’s right to set him straight; mama may not have raised him, but he still ain’t no bitch.
It took some coaxing on your end, but you were able to reel Draken back from turning your boyfriend inside out. But, after he forced him to pick up every broken piece of the lamp, he told Takeru to choose a number between one and ten.
“…Why?” Was his response. Draken raised a brow.
“That’s how many shards I’m gonna shove up your nose.”
“Ken!”
The look on the shorter male’s face was worth it, earning a threatening smirk from the mechanic as he slapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Ahh, y’look like you were about to shit yourself, man! Nah, I’m not gonna hurt you.”
For a moment, there’s relief in your boyfriend’s eyes. It was short-lived, of course. Especially once Draken’s grip tightened around his shoulder. “But I will. Don’t ever let me catch you pop off on [_____] like that again. Would hate for you to have to pick yourself up off the floor next time. You feel me?”
With a gulp, he gave a shaky nod; now he really looked like he shat himself. “Y-Yes…”
“Hah? Yes, what?”
“Y-Yes, Draken, sir?”
He rewarded the poor sucker’s obedience with a couple taps to the cheek just to spite him before sending him on his way. It was met with little protest, Takeru scurrying out of the room with lamp pieces still in his palms, not even sparing you a passing glance. 
“Text you later?” You called at his retreating form. When all you got was the sound of your front door slamming shut in response, you swiftly turned on your heel to aim a dejected frown at your other houseguest. Draken sardonically pouted back at you, reaching over to pinch your cheek until you swatted his hand away. “Why’d you do that, you totally freaked him out!” 
He wasn’t sorry. Draken shrugged. “Good.” 
Merely rolling your eyes, you headed for the small broom and dustpan in your closet to gather what little pieces Takeru left behind–Might as well busy yourself to delay addressing the elephant still in the room. Unfortunately, said elephant wasn’t about to let that happen. Before you could even think of sweeping anything, Draken gently grabbed your elbow, those same eyes that stared death into your boyfriend’s soul now filled with something else as they appraised you, melting through whatever cold exterior you tried to aim at him.
He leaned down closer, sporting a slanted grin that sent signals straight down to your core. Sometimes, you despised how easily he made your insides flutter by just existing.
“How much longer y’gonna entertain that fucking loser, huh? He wouldn’t know the first thing about handling someone like you.”
You hummed, fighting the giddy tremble in your body at the challenging air that surrounded you both. With the inkling of boldness you had, you took the bait. “What, like you would?”
He wasn’t sorry; you’d be though.
The way Draken split you in half would make Lucifer himself bite the pillow. Hovering over his gigantic frame, chest bare with your hands perched on each pec, he manhandled you to take every unforgiving inch of his dick, having you feeling downright discombobulated as your hips struggled to keep momentum.
Forget about seeing stars, at some point, you were certain you saw into the quantum realm; say hi to Ant-Man for me.
“K-Kenny...I can’t...t’s too much!” 
He cooed up at you, though there wasn’t an ounce of sympathy in his tone. If anything, Draken enjoyed himself thoroughly, tongue-in-cheek as he watched you fall apart in his lap, just like he knew you would. With the way you tightened up around him like a vice, as if your own body was against the thought of him stopping, the former blonde chuckled breathlessly.
“Use the safe word then, doll.”
You glared down at him, to the best of your ability. With him practically jabbing you in the lung, it was more than difficult to say the rebuttal as smartly as you wanted to. “Y-you think…you’re so-oh! So f-funny…”
He did. Absolutely he did. By making your boyfriend’s name the safe word, nothing would soften his dick quicker. Plus, he knew you didn’t need it; just like you didn’t need Takeru.
“What? It’d be the only way you’d ever scream it anyways.”
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“Welcome back.”
You paused mid-step upon entering your apartment, not expecting the ravenette to still be there. With a deep exhale, you paid him no mind as you kicked off your shoes, irritated after a tiresome process of checking your boyfriend into the hospital.
To say BAJI did a number on him would be an understatement…Man’s fucked him up. Sure, maybe Makoto could’ve watched his tone when talking to someone with such a short fuse, but Baji could’ve at least exercised a little restraint.
…Oh, who were you kidding? It’s Baji.
“What, ya not talkin’ to me?” Barely sparing him a glance, you set your bag on the coffee table before heading for the bedroom for a much-needed shower. Baji didn’t take kindly to being ignored. He huffed, standing to meet you halfway as he trailed behind you. Even when you attempted to close the door in his face, he shouldered his way in anyway; it was gonna take more than that to deter him.
“Quit being mad…said I was sorry, damn.”
“No you didn’t,” you replied, incredulously. You really tried it with the silent treatment, but knowing him, it was only a matter of seconds before he'd get you talking again. Taking off the sweats you threw on in haste earlier, you continued. “You said, and I quote, ‘Talk shit, get hit,’ then fell asleep on the couch while I had to haul Makoto to the emergency room!”
Baji shuffled his feet, “…Well, I meant to say it. Jus' forgot.”
You scoffed, walking into your bathroom. "What are you even still doing here? Don't you have someone else's day to shit on?”
“Y’kicking me out now?” He teased, raising a brow. What he didn't expect was for you to start throwing your toiletries at him. Although his reflexes saved him for the most part, Baji still got hit a few times as he attempted to dodge between a shampoo bottle and mouthwash. "Whoa! Hey-!"
“Maybe I should! Do you have any idea how hard it was to get him in and out of my car with all that dead weight, let alone into the building? Not to mention, his emergency contacts were his uppity-ass parents, so after they chewed me out, I had to lie and say he saved me from getting mugged.”
“...They buy it?”
You tilted your head, exasperated. "Wow. And here I thought the next thing out of your mouth would be that apology you 'forgot' to say earlier…[Sigh] Whatever. You just better hope when Makoto wakes up he doesn't remember anything, or else we're both in deep shit."
“Tsk. The fuck’s he gonna do?”
“He could literally sue us.” You deadpanned.
“He’s a pussy, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try me again. And if he gives you any shit for it, you let me know. I’ll take care of it.”
“Oh, you mean like how you did today? Pass.”
He groaned, “I said sorry!”
“No you didn’t! And still haven’t!”
At the moment, it felt like the conversation would just continue in circles. With Baji stubbornly claiming he was in the right, and you combating his warped logic with colorful language and more stuff thrown at him, it's a wonder how things ended up here–With your face pressed against the cold shower wall as he gave you his fucking apology.
Over, and over, and over again.
While one hand wrapped around the column of your throat, fingers shoved knuckle-deep into your mouth to pacify the excessive whines tumbling out, the other made use of gripping the meat of your thigh, giving you no chance of running from the punishing thwap of his hips ramming against your wet ass-cheeks. The water cascading over your bodies had long turned cold as Baji chased after orgasm number five, his muscles ached from the strain, but he'd be damned to stop until he was certain all was forgiven.
Even if it meant missing every single one of Makoto's phone calls.
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“God, I am so, so sorry, Takashi. Can’t believe he just…I-I’ve never seen him act like that before. Does it hurt?”
MITSUYA, despite the sting in his split lip, gave you an easy grin. “Nah, y’know I’ve been through worse. Fucker hits like one of my younger sisters.”
You had brought him back to your place to ice the bruise forming on his jaw, still frazzled over what occurred in the last half hour. Back at the restaurant, everything seemed fine when you excused yourself to the bathroom, having a blast knowing that your two favorite people were actually getting along. Unbeknownst to you, there was a storm brewing in Hajime. And the second you were out of sight, he used this opportunity to set a record straight with Mitsuya.  
Evidently, he allowed his fists to do the talking. 
You groaned, rubbing down your face in distress. “We’ll probably never get to set foot in that restaurant again...’m so embarrassed.”
“Hey,” he softly reprimanded, “Don’t sweat it, t’s not your fault-”
“I’m the one who begged you to let him come with us in the first place. I mean, I know you two butt heads from time to time, but I didn’t think it’d ever turn that serious. Please, Taka, just tell me what happened.”
Mitsuya shook his head, about to lower the ice pack until you shot him a pointed look. With a small exhale through his nose, he kept it on his jaw while he spoke. “I told you, he was probably pissed he couldn’t get a free meal outta me-”
“Don’t bullshit me, Haji wouldn’t explode like that over a fucking chicken sandwich.” You huffed, frustrated at his evasive behavior. He was holding back information on purpose, you were certain. Ever since the fitting, he'd been acting weird all evening. And that fight only solidified your suspicions. “Just tell me what started it!” 
"Doesn’t matter."
"Taka-"
"Let it go, [______]." He laid back on your couch and made himself comfortable, even so much as turning on your tv to fill over the dead conversation. Mitsuya trained his eyes on the lit-up screen, still icing his jaw as he subtly avoided eye contact.
You could just scream.
Childishly, you snatched the remote from his hand and switched it back off. The lavender haired threw his head back in defeat, the hand holding the ice pack slowly coming down as Mitsuya eyed you from his peripheral; so stubborn.
“Be honest. It was about me again, wasn’t it?” His silence spoke volumes. “So it was then. Ugh, okay listen, I get that you’re both really protective of me, I do, but that doesn’t excuse-”
“I’m in love with you.”
You choked. Though, only on your words.
With that now hanging up in the air, you gaped like a damn goldfish, the remote slipping out your grasp and clambering to the floor with a clack. Mitsuya exhaled; no turning back now. “You…huh?”
“Yep. Have been for a while, actually.” He placed his arms behind the couch, wry smirk on his face. “Planned to tell you over dinner tonight, but that backfired fast, no thanks to that walking steroid you call a boyfriend.”
“Y-…You’re messing with me. Right?” The designer offered a humorless laugh, gesturing to his split lip and bruised jaw.
“Didn’t get hit for saying what a great pal you were, [______].”
Now it was your turn to be silent. A lump began to form in your throat, overwhelmed with the newfound information, borderline confession.
“So then…what did you say to Haji to make him so angry?”
For a split second, you saw a glint within his pools of amethyst as they slowly rendered to a deep violet. Staring at you from beneath his pretty lashes, Mitsuya resembled that of a starved animal on the verge of cornering its prey, causing a sudden warmth to envelop you as you squirmed under his heady gaze.
Sitting up a little, he merely beckoned you to his empty lap. You blinked widely at him, sputtering as you tried to protest the idea. But, what he said next played into your curiosity.
“C’mere, and I’ll show you.”
You blinked at him, uncertain; he made no move to rush you. If you were against the idea, you were more than welcome to decline and tell him to shove it. However, when you eventually crawled into the awaiting throne, settling all your weight on top of him to the point he couldn’t keep from groaning shamelessly, Mitsuya was fucking elated.
You gripped his shirt at the shoulders, sporting that signature pout you’d do whenever you wanted something from him—The designer was more than ready to give it to you. All you had to do was say so.
“Hajime’s gonna kill you if he finds out, though. Don’t want you getting hurt again because of me…”
Mitsuya chuckled, hands slowly rubbing up your thighs until they settled on your hips. “Don’t worry about it, sweet thing. He may have gotten two hits on me today, but all I need is one tomorrow.”
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