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zombiewhor3 · 1 year

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TEMPTATIONS

fem reader x daryl dixon

WARNINGS: reader is over 18, consent is given, mentions of drunk sex, mentions of intoxication, usage of alcohol and cigarettes, un-protected sex, mentions of hangovers, female reader, AFA, penetrative sex, mentions of teasing, double smut!

A/N: creds to gif owner, i haven't written for Daryl in a while so in honor of that heres a smutty Daryl one shot, this feels really short even though its 2.3k words but its un-edited so theres probably mistakes!

she felt the sunlight beaming down on her and she fluttered her eyes open but practically almost rolled out of the bed when she looked at the man who was laying next to her.

he was peacefully asleep his head sinking into the pillow his chest rising against the bed as the comforter and the sheets covered over his body, she looked down at hers to see she was stripped of her clothes not even in her bra or panties.

she wrapped herself up in the sheet from the bed and tossed a pillow at him to wake up from his slumber, he groaned and rubbed his forehead at the aching he was feeling.

he looked to see y/n covering herself in the sheets as she looked almost pale to the fact they were in the same bed without even such as an article of clothing on either of their bodies.

"What the hell y/n?!" he shouted and watched as she furrowed her brows at him, "you were in MY bed" she huffed back looking around the room to make sure that it was hers and in fact not his.

he sat up on the bed peaking under the sheets to realize he was naked and he used part of the sheets she hadn't used to wrap her body to cover over the lower half of his body.

she took in a deep breath at the realization of last nights events, after the dinner party the leader of Alexandria through for them in their honor of joining the community it led to alcohol.

in a stable place like this they had a stash, a stash they generously gave out to the new comers that surrounded them and since they had gone months with out even such as a slight enjoyment for themselves the indulged on the opportunity.

maybe y/n and Daryl just a little bit to much,

her memory had started to strike her as she sat on the edge of the bed, all their clothes on the floor scattered like they had been just so desperate to get to each other.

his hand rubbing over her skin with each thrust inside her, it was like one of those romance novels where the sex was so good it made her feel just as drunk as the liquor did.

she remembered the way that his cock had almost barely fit inside her, the way she begged for every inch of him until he was surrounded by the flesh of her clenching walls that couldn't stop wanting to pull him even closer.

"did we you know?" Daryl asked as he swallowed and looked over at her, she nodded softly and looked down at her hands which fiddled with the sewing of the cotton sheets wrapped around her.

"god i can't believe we got that drunk last night"

she sighed, now this was something she couldn't get out of her head. She couldn't get the amazement of the feeling of his hands roaming her and the way his lips were so soft on hers.

she figured that this was a silly accident and that it wasn't his true feelings instead some of the sex deprivation that was lingering in him, the lack of sex was what that was last night.

nothing special is what she tried to coax herself into believing.

he wanted her to believe that it was a mistake because partially it was, he didn't mean to get that drunk and let his feelings for her spill out just like that, just into one night he had to piece together.

breakfast was almost like hell as members of the group sat around the large table, half of them fighting against their hang overs while the others seemed to have joy filled conversations.

Daryl and y/n had been awkward not even saying anything to one another which was odd since they were usually the ones sitting next to one another chatting away about some random topic.

but now they were across the table from each other silent and apologizing in their awkward manners each time they ended up reaching for the same exact thing on the table.

so much so that they didn't even finish their breakfast at the table and instead they had each moved into separate rooms, one on the porch and one who excused themselves to the kitchen.

y/n pressed herself up against the counter and refilled her glass halfway with some of the juice that rested on the counter, she took a sip and started to poke at the food on her plate.

Daryl was on the porch sitting on the step and he placed his half eaten plate of food by his side not even bothering to want to finish eating anymore after the awkwardness at the table inside.

he let out a deep breath and rubbed over his face gazing around at the empty road that was in front of him, he watched one of the trees planted in the grass of the yard blow in the wind.

she took another bite of her food before placing the rest on the counter for any of the others that wanted to have at it since in this time it was like a deathly sin to waste any sort of food.

he couldn't get the thought of her out of his head, the way her back arched so impatiently as he teased her with just the tip of him and when he finally fulfilled her wish he remembered the way that her nails dug into his shoulder blades,

the way she bucked her hips up and the way she was crying and moaning out his name so prettily that alone would've made him spill.

he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a cigarette and lighter, he cupped over the cigarette that hung in his mouth, he heard the click of the lighter as the flame rose and he lit his cig.

he inhaled some of the smoke with his drag before blowing it into the air using his two fingers to pull the stick away from his lips before gently placing it back into his mouth.

she could feel almost as if he was touching her again when she rubbed her thighs together to gain a friction, she imagined that with the clasping of her legs that it was the touch of his hands away but she quickly pushed back the fantasy as a member of the group walked into the kitchen to put their plate in the sink.

Carol looked at y/n and furrowed his brows as to why she wasn't sitting at the table with them, "you to hungover?" Carol asked with a smile watching y/n nod as a small one came onto her face.

"quite" y/n replied as she drank the rest of the juice in her glass and placed it into the shining silver sink in front of them, she took in a breath as she watched the curtains blow in the wind.

Carol hadn't said anything because it was obvious y/n hadn't wanted the tension of Daryl and her to be noticed even though any person with a pair of eyes could sense the feeling between the pair.

she looked at door in front of her, the white coat of paint hadn't even had such as a chip or a crack in it. she stood in front of it with her fist ready to knock but she could feel her heart beating like she was about to start an important race.

her fist knocked against the door three times and it only took a few seconds for him to answer it, he stood with a furrow in his brows and he offered her inside with already an idea of what he believed that she had shown up on his door step for.

"you don't have to explain we were both drunk and i-" she cut him off with a kiss wrapping her arms around the back of his neck and she felt as he started to kiss her back with such a passion even the actors of a romance movie couldn't fake if they tried their hardest.

he gently placed her onto the couch and started to kiss at her neck, nipping and sucking at the gentle skin while his hands started to wander at the clothes that covered her body.

the clothes that within a matter of seconds he had pulled off her body and they rested down by the coffee table in the middle of the living room.

she gasped at the feeling of his hands gripping at her waist while he sucked down from the nape of her throat down to her navel until his hand was sucked into her underwear and rubbing small circles on her clit that was ever so throbbing and desperate for him.

she had stripped away all of his clothes and he was left just in his boxers to where she palmed at those so needily, so needily that she had started to whine and impatiently bucked her hips up just so she could grind against the hand that was touching her.

he chuckled as he felt the desperate movements of her body pressing up against his, he let her pull the boxers off of him and he slid off the cotton of her panties taking a glimpse of them before he had tossed them away to the floor where the rest of the clothes laid,

he teased at her and she grasped at the sides of his shoulders feeling him come closer to her as he pressed his cock inside her again, and now she knew that this felt even better when she wasn't drunk.

it felt so good that she moaned into him as her hands held onto the back of his neck to keep a stable grip and well to keep him closer because she knew they both liked it,

she felt his member practically re-arranging her stomach and it made her cry out in such pleasure that if she got louder she'd be at the point of screaming her lungs out for him.

he heard the sounds of their bodies slapping together and he smelt the sweetness of her hair that fell back on the front of her shoulders where he had buried his face into to kiss the side of her neck.

"oh god Daryl, i'm gonna-" she couldn't even finish because another thrust resulted in her mouth being laid a gape and a loud moan that erupted from the pit of her heart for him and his wild movements.

"doing so well y/n" he whispered against her and she could feel his breath swarming down her skin sending pleasurable goosebumps from the way it was turning her on even more.

with just a few more thrusts they had both spilled, he pulled out of course to prevent getting her pregnant meanwhile her juices had poured out onto the flesh of his abdomen as she panted.

he slipped on his boxers and his jeans and ran to the kitchen to grab a rag, one that was damp so that he could clean her up. He gently rubbed the cloth over her body and cleaned up the mess he spilt onto her legs and parts of her thighs.

she meekly thanked him and felt as he slipped back on her clothes for her, he helped her stand and made sure she didn't fall over from the slight wobbling her legs had from the event of the act.

she laid her head on his shoulder and felt the clasp of his hand holding hers, their fingers intertwining. "what made you want to show up here?" he asked and she shrugged her shoulders at him.

but he nudged her to give him and answer because he knew that she had her exact reason for coming here, it wasn't just because she wanted to show up here.

"why did you kiss me last night?" she asked and felt him shift and squeeze her hand a little harder without an answer, "was it because you were sex deprived?" she asked and watched as his brows furrowed and his head snapped to look at her.

"it's because i like you not because i'm some sex freak" he remarked back and she could feel her heart skip a little, "now answer my question as to why you showed up here" he spoke.

"because i couldn't stop thinking about last night and the way i felt even before we got drunk and slept with each other" she replied and lifted their hands up so she could place a kiss on them.

he used his thumb to rub over the top of her hand and it sent a soothing sensation throughout her body, "its more than a liking Daryl" she admitted and he looked down at her.

"i love you to y/n"

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she-is-ovarit · 1 month

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Over 338 women were killed in Turkey since March 2023, an activist group says. ISTANBUL -- Thousands of women took to the streets of Istanbul, Turkey, to mark International Women's Day Friday despite a ban by the government, demanding equality and change of laws to protect women and help them gain their rights in the country and around the world. Waving purple flags as a sign of International Women's Day, they filled the air with slogans and rallying cries despite a ban on rallies by authorities. "The world would shake if women were free," "Resist for rebellion, resist for freedom," and "Woman, Life, Freedom," they chanted. While the police had blocked access to the streets leading to the protest location several hours ahead, some women said they figured out their own ways to get there and participate in the protest. "I have been here in this coffeeshop today at 1 pm to make it here at 7:30 pm," Irem, 35, told ABC News. "Women's rights are basically nonexistent in Turkey right now," she added. Turkey was the first country to join the Istanbul Convention in March 2012 which aims at preventing gender-based violence by setting legally binding standards to protect victims and punish perpetrators. However, 9 years later, in 2021, Turkey became the first and only country that left the convention in a decision made by President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan's Islamic leaning government who believed the treaty eroded their conservative values.

Irem said the Turkish government has been backsliding in terms of women's rights and mentioned the rising number of femicide cases across Turkey over the past 10 to15 years. According to We Will Stop Femicide, a prominent activist group in Turkey, 338 women have been murdered since March 2023, and 248 died under suspicious circumstances. The campaign added that 212 of these women were killed at home, 134 of them by their husbands, 47 by their boyfriends, and 36 by their ex-husbands. Two of the victims did not know their murderers at all, according to the group. Protestors called for more unity among women and for finding ways to get out of the situation and make things better for women and members of minority groups such as the LGBTOAI community. Yagmour, a young protestor wearing an all-purple outfit and makeup, said she has attended the 8th of March protests in different cities of Turkey over the years. Despite her disappointment with the government's policies, she said she keeps up her hopes in women's power from around the world to pay attention to each other and also to the situation in Turkey. "As women, it is important that we all stay together, no matter what nationality," she told ABC News.

This article is written by Somayeh Malekian, Maggie Rulli, and Engin Bas, March 9, 2024, 5:06 AM

#Turkey #women's rights #feminism #global feminism #Turkish women #violence against women #domestic violence #femicide #sex based oppression #male violence #womens rights #female liberation now

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aziraphale-is-a-cat · 11 months

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Planned Obsolescence

Pt 1

Danny liked to think he had made a life for himself outside of the hero gig, that he'd put down the metaphorical cape, gone to fancy engineering school, and landing himself a job at S.T.A.R. Labs.

So walking into the main lobby at 6am he was understandably a little unnerved to find a member of the Justice League there, waiting for him.

"Dr. Fenton!" His boss called him over from where she'd been chatting with the new guests. "We've been waiting for you, come with us."

Danny was suddenly extremely uncomfortable, part of the main hero force of his home dimension was suddenly staring at him intently. If they'd been tipped off about his dead-ness then he was in a whole world of trouble.

"Uh, Dr. Norris, what exactly is going on?" He asked, nervously.

"We'll discuss it in my office, follow me."

The slowly walk up to the office was a new type of torture, trying to push down his panic and watching the hero watch him from the corner of his eye.

With his supervisor and him were Nightwing and some random Dude who, while not in costume, still held himself with his shoulders squared and his stance wide in the same way.

The guy must've seen him staring and introduced himself. "I'm Ted Kord, I work as a, uh, civilian contractor with the Justice League."

Danny's eyes narrowed but he didn't voice his skepticism. "Damn, how do you even get a job like that?" Kord, that sounded familiar.

The guests all shared a look as they stepped into the office, Dr. Norris finding her seat behind her desk. "Well actually, that's what we came here for."

Danny was immediately on edge, he wasn't on good terms with the government already. He remembered in that moment where he remembered the name 'Kord' from.

"This is about my parents' work, isn't it?" He accused, continuing when he got no response. "You're from Kord Omniversal," he said to Kord, "You wouldn't go running to S.T.A.R. Labs, your competitor, unless we really had something you didn't." He let the silence stew.

Danny had put a lot of work distancing himself from the legacy of his parents, going so far as to pull most of their research from public access once he gained ownership of it after their deaths. It really bothered him to still be associated with them and their body of work now that he had a name for himself and a reputation he had built on his own.

Awkwardly, Nightwing stepped up to fill the silence, doing his best to ignore the mounting tension.

"We know you have your parents' complete research, but while we need that your expertise in building and designing," he gestured with his hands as he searched for the right word, "unique machines-"

"You want me to build you a portal." Danny interrupted shortly.

"To another dimension, yes." Nightwing responded, cringing a little.

Danny rubbed the bridge of his nose, wishing to the ancients that he could just run off and be a hermit in the mountains. Appalachia would work well, a healthy supernatural community for occasional social interactions and minimal contact with stupid fucking humans.

"What would I get out of it?"

"Money, government contract, that looks good on a resume." Kord responded.

He looked to Dr. Norris, pleading with his eyes for a reason not to take it.

"Dr. Fenton taking on a contract with the Justice League would open up some in demand employment opportunities for you here at S.T.A.R. Labs, positions with better pay and access to better materials." She pushed him a manilla folder smiling, and when he opened it Danny saw contract pre-written, addressed to him.

He snapped it shut and took a deep breath to ground himself. "Where do you wanna go?"

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Being picked up for work via Zeta Tube was a new brand of surreal, even for a Teen-Hero Turned Engineer.

The automated voice called out his designation, "G-09: Daniel Fenton", as he stepped into his new temporary laboratory. The workspace was top of the line, and lined with cameras. The constant surveillance was going to make this very hard, seeing as he's now stuck with staying humans the whole time, and is no doubt going to be bugged going home.

Something was sketchy about this whole ordeal. Danny hadn't seen hide nor hair of any of the other members of the Justice League, and even though he's handling a task drenched in the occult, he hadn't had to consult any League Affiliated occultists.

Batman was notorious for going through research and experiments with a fine tooth comb, and yet Danny hadn't been called in to explain himself nor the obvious holes in the material he submitted to them, intentionally omitting parts both to keep the more dangerous parts out of government hands and to see where he stood.

And it appears he stood at the crossroads- holding, though his unique and specialized knowledge, all the cards. Nightwing was desperate, something had at least a few of the more senior members out of contact, including whoever they had that knew anything about magic and the multiverse. And it had everything to do with what was on the other side of the portal they wanted him to build.

Any magician worth their own ass knew that mechanical portals outside their own group of dimensions, known as a format due to their similarity in inhabitants and history, never fucking work. Spell portals were the only type that ever made it out, and it took an exceptionally strong caster to open one for even a few seconds.

Any portal trying to leave would just find themselves in the hub, the space between dimensions in a format, same as any portal without a destination or goal which is why it was relatively easy for the Fentons to punch a hole into the Infinite Realms.

As it stood Nightwing really should know that what he was asking of Danny should by all means be impossible.

He purposefully set his file box down on his desk Infront of a hidden camera, it would be hard to work around later when he needed the space but it was worth it to make his point. He knew he was being watched. And he didn't like it.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Walking into the nearly empty conference room, Dick Grayson slid onto the table and laid down. Being alone with some friends in the watchtower free to sit on the fancy, expensive surfaces however he wished sounded like childhood Dick's dream, but now it was just depressing.

"You know you're taking a massive risk with this one, right?" Cyborg asked from the head of the table. "I know our options aren't too great, but this is just miserable."

"Cy, we are beyond the point of miserable."

The half machine groaned and put his head in his hands. "Constantine would shoot us for even trying this bullshit, first for mixing tech and magic, then again for hiring a Fenton!"

"Yeah well, the blonde bastard is stuck with the rest of the League on the ruins of fucking Azarath, and Dr. Fate fucked off to whatever he's deemed more important than us so there's not much by the way of options!"

Cyborg massaged his temples. "This guy's tech is off." He pulled out the papers Dr. Fenton had submitted on his research. "I know confronting him about the inconsistencies will just scare him off, but it's not just that! The tech he brought in, I tried interfacing with it and it just repelled me. There's something wrong with it."

Nightwing rolled his head over to look at him critically. "Something magic? Something interdimensional? Because if so that's what we hired him for."

Cyborg opened his mouth to respond but at that moment a bright flash of light filled the room as The Flash zipped into the room.

"Hey so I know you guys told me to check out his old home for signs of that portal, but the whole place is fucking weird."

#dp x dc #dc x dp #danny fenton #dick grayson #nightwing #dpxdc #dcxdp #cyborg #victor stone #wally west #flash #ted kord #blue beetle

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flyfish1999 · 2 months

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MORE INFO about the Shuji Sogabe ryomina doujinshi !!!

hello ryojihead nation !!!!!!!!!!!!! i hope you're all having a good day ^_^ i'm sure the vast majority of you are aware of the persona 3 manga, it's many ryomina tendencies, and it's author, Shuji Sogabe.

sogabe is also rather well-known for having written a popular ryomina doujin, イチゴちゃん SAY GOOD BYE [pictured], under the penname Kanae Kiryu. SGB was released at Comiket 73 on the 29/12/2007, around 10 months after the persona 3 manga began serialisation in dengeki maoh in february that year.

a few days before comiket, sogabe writes on his blog that he'll be handling books from kanae kiryu's doujin circle, ネコ同然。(like a cat.) on the 28/12/2007, he posts a link to kanae kiryu's blog, http://jlc.jugem.jp/ [pictured]

later, on the 14/5/2008, a post is made to kiryu's blog that he applied to, and then later announced on 22/6/2008 that he was accepted to, the ryomina exclusive event Messiah Recipe ! (webpage being: http://messiah-recipe.com)

alongside his acceptance, he also writes that he's working on a new book for the event. on the 26th, he posts again, saying the book will be called ワルツィング・キャット(Waltzing Cat) [pictured], and it was worked on alongside 蒼麻葵 (i believe their current twitter: @tasotaso_nyoro) !

NOTE: on the kanae kiryu blog it is mentioned that Waltzing Cat's front and back cover join together much like SAY GOOD BYE's does, but since very few scans of the book exist, we only have the front cover (which shows minato's hand, at least ^_^;;)

Waltzing Cat was then released as promised at Messiah Recipe's event on June 28th, 2008. (this exclusivity is probably why it's so much rarer!) SAY GOOD BYE was also reprinted to be sold alongside it. a blog post was made on kiryu's blog two days after, thanking everyone who bought books at the event. he writes:

We would like to express our heartfelt thanks to all the people who picked up our books at the event. It was the first time for me to participate in an exclusive circle, and I was a little nervous, but there was no big confusion on the day of the event, and the proceedings were very relaxed and peaceful. Thank you to all the staff members! I really wanted to talk to more people, but I'm a chicken at heart and it's hard to build a community.......! Once you get to know each other, you can chat as much as you want. I would like to be a little more proactive next time, since this is a place where people who like the same things can get together.

after a few more posts (mostly about p4), and then a few months of silence, kanae kiryu's blog is closed in March 2009, with a thank-you goodbye message written on 22/03/2009. the only other mention of kanae's circle i found was as part of a persona 3 2009 calendar, presumably made in 2008. link to defunct listing here: https://www.suruga-ya.jp/product/detail/988900972

[pictured below: Messiah Recipe's event information from the website]

i hope everyone had lots of fun at messiah recipe !!!!!!! and i'm glad i could help unearth this information !!!!!!!! let's hope sogabe continues to enjoy persona 3 and ryoji mochizuki for years to come ^_^

#persona 3 #ryomina #ryoji mochizuki #minato arisato #persona 3 reload #persona 3 manga #HOO BOY.#this took a while ^_^;; !!!!!! but im glad people will know about it !!!!!!!

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lewkwoodnco · 15 days

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Can I make you a request about Anthony Lockwood based on the song “So American” by Olivia Rodrigo🥺😭

so american! - Lockwood x Reader

when he laughs at all my jokes and he says I’m so american oh god it’s just not fair of him to make me feel this much I’d go anywhere he goes when he says I’m so american oh god I’m gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up i might just be in la la la la la la la la la love

a/n: this fic has been rattling around in my head for a couple of weeks now and I was soooo double minded abt writing it so THANK YOU for the ask!!!!!! might not have written it otherwise heheh also I’m sooo proud of how my gifs turned out it was so fun to colour them all guts themed 😍😍 I hope you enjoy!! <333 also im having issues w the keep reading button AGAIN so sorry :(((

warnings/tropes: lockwood and reader are already in an established relationship, fluffy fluff, veeerrry small sprinkling of angst but happy ending! domestic sweetness

word count: 3.3k!

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

“Ready?”

Lockwood ducked into the car's passenger seat, grinning at the sight of her comically desperate expression. George and Lucy were fussing in the backseat, mainly because of Lucy’s seatbelt, or lack thereof, and they didn't seem to notice his arrival.

“Just wear the fucking seatbelt.”

"I'll be fine, George."

"She got her license at 16. 16! They just let anyone drive all willy-nilly up and down the roads in America."

Lucy gave him a look. He finally gave up and tugged at his own seatbelt sceptically, muttering darkly under his breath.

Lockwood & Co. was much more than a psychical investigation agency. Outside of their working hours, each member liked to work on some kind of passion project. After not having driven for over a year since she got her driving license in the States, she had decided to apply for one in London. Luckily, her employer had gallantly offered to provide her with the lessons she badly needed, having been the first of the three to earn his license. Well, employer and boyfriend.

Her mother could hardly believe the news and, frankly, so could she. In a lot of ways, having an English boyfriend was vastly different from having an American one. First, there was a slight communication barrier, given how terrible she was with accents. Then there were the differing preferences - Lockwood seemed forever ready for a cuppa at any time of day, whereas the only kind of tea she really enjoyed was iced tea. Still, these differences left gaps for lingering gazes and silences that stretched on a little too much, and somewhere in between she slipped her hand into his, and the rest was history.

Lockwood turned away to buckle his seatbelt.

"Okay, your seatbelt on?"

"Yes."

"Ready to go?"

"Hang on," came George's peeved voice from behind them, "you're not going to brief her first?" The two of them stared at each other blankly.

"Uh, Y/N, do you remember how to drive?"

"Sure." It was one of those things you never forget, like riding a bicycle. Sure, it had been a while, but how hard could it truly be?

"Brilliant. Now-"

George pulled himself forward between the two front seats, straining against his seatbelt. “We don’t drive on the right side here. We drive on the left side of the road. Left. Left.”

She glanced at her rearview mirror which outlined the line of cars behind them parked on the left side of the street.

“No. You don’t say.”

Lockwood coughed, poorly concealing his laugh as he craned his neck towards the backseat windows. "Right, all clear. I think we can move of-"

"Parking brake."

"Er, right, what George said. Disable the parking brake first."

“I’ve never driven with a parking brake before.”

“So you push in this metal bit, like so,” said Lockwood, gently manoeuvring her fingers into the right grip, “and then pull it up a little, and then bring it all the way down.”

She tugged at it in frustration. “I -it’s not working.”

“Lockwood, did you tell her to step on the “

“Step-on-the-brake-while-doing-that-yes I was just about to say, George. I think I know how to teach someone how to drive. Unless you’d like to take over?”

"Oh, please. You couldn't pay me to sit in the front seat with that maniac driving."

She got her parking brake down, checked her mirrors, and they were off. For a minute there it was quite enjoyable, trundling through the mostly empty backstreets of London. Lockwood even tried to prop his feet on the dashboard before getting badly told off by George. He was forever propping his feet up at the slightest chance - at the Archives, at home, and now here. Maybe it was all part of some innate desire to be a wheelbarrow.

And so, things were going perfectly rosy, until she faced her first real challenge - oncoming traffic. As soon as the car heading towards them came into plain enough view, the four of them went into hysterics. The road was just narrow enough to make overtaking a little too tricky for her abilities at the moment.

“What do I do? WHY isn’t he slowing down?”

“Don’t panic, it’s alright. Stop a little to the side.”

She cursed, fumbling for the brake pedal her foot had carelessly slipped off of. Lockwood was nervously watching the car get closer and closer to them.

“Now would be a good time to stop, Y/N. Brake! BRAKE!”

They shot ahead sharply, swerving right sharply, narrowly missing the car passing them. Lucy swore loudly and George gripped the car grab handle above him as he started scolding no one in particular.

"NOT THE BRAKE!”

Lockwood gripped the steering wheel over her hands, frantically trying to steer them to safety. With some difficulty, she shifted her foot back to the right pedal and slammed the brakes. There was a bit of a scuffle in the backseat, including George going off on Lucy in a very ‘I-told-you-so’ tone.

At the front of the car, Lockwood and she were still frozen, reeling from the past very exciting 30 seconds. Her eyes settled to where his hands were still resting on hers, tightly pinning her fingers to the steering wheel.

“Your hands are so warm.”

He peeled them off almost instantly, and she was sorry she brought it up in the first place. “Yeah, well, they’re panicking, just like the rest of me. What the bloody hell was that? I thought you said you knew how to drive!”

“I do know how to drive.” She bit back a smile at the sight of her 180 cm tall boyfriend trying to catch his breath with his hand dramatically splayed across his chest, muttering something about Americans handing out licenses to just about anyone.

The drive back to the rental car agency was much less eventful. After returning the car, they trudged back up the road to Portland Row. As they hung their coats up, she met his thoughtful gaze.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He drew in a breath and hesitated. “You look nice.”

“Is this some convoluted way of patting yourself on the back for your fashion choices?”

“So you agree? You think you look nice?”

She groaned. She should have known no good was going to come from showing Lockwood Mean Girls. Still, it was hard to stay mad for long at a face like that. "You’re such a nuisance. A…delightful one, arguably, but still a nuisance.”

"You find me delightful?"

"That's your takeaway?”

"Next thing I know you’ll be saying you fancy me.”

“I’m literally wearing your shirt right now.”

“Luce!” He turned and started down the hallway. “Y/N says I’m delightful!”

As usual, the four of them reconvened in the kitchen a little after lunch for a tea break. Well, the four of them minus Lockwood, who had been bullied into fixing a plumbing issue in the basement. They sipped their tea and chewed their biscuits in silence. She wished she could bring down a little for Lockwood.

“Maybe I should go see if he needs some help.”

“No!” George nearly upset his tea, which made Lucy choke on her biscuit. “ Don’t go down there. You’ll distract him, he won’t get shit done, and that’ll be one more week without hot water for me.”

So she sat back down sulkily, brooding over her tea, until another topic of conversation struck her.

“Speaking of Lockwood -“

“- no one’s mentioned Lockwood-“

“-did you guys see the socks he was wearing today?”

Lucy and George didn’t even try to muffle their groans.

“They were very nice socks! They had the most precious pattern of baby ducks against a darling blue backgr-“

She stopped short as Lucy reached across the table to grip her hand.

“Y/N, I say this with love, but if I have to hear one more word about Lockwood, or his stupid bloody socks, I am going to ram a fork into my eye.”

She blinked, confused, and scoffed. “Gosh, you guys are so overdramatic. I don’t talk about him that much.”

George and Lucy exchanged a look.

“Okay, so maybe I like my boyfriend and I enjoy talking about him. Is that really so bad?”

Lockwood rescued all of them from the siege of George’s response by walking in right then, holding a wrench and looking a little worse for wear, but appeared very pleased with himself.

“Fixed!”

“Finally.”

Lucy frowned at the clock above the stove. “Isn’t that client meeting at Tooting today?”

Lockwood’s smile slipped right off as he glanced at his watch and rushed out of the kitchen, muttering furiously. His simple black leather watch which complemented his wrist so perfectly-

“Y/N! Time to leave!”

Maybe George and Lucy had a point.

Once their client meeting had finished, she and Lockwood stood on the pavement outside the house, looking for cabs to flag down. It was a balmy evening, and a cloudless sky meant they could enjoy the warmth of the setting sun beating down on them. She squinted down the road while Lockwood pulled something out from his coat pocket.

“For a job well done this morning and at the meeting…” he revealed two pieces of tightly wrapped square candies sitting on his palm. “A little treat.”

She stared at the candy for a moment, thinking hard.

“Caramel! I just remembered.”

“…what?”

“That’s what we call it in the States. A caramel.”

“It’s made of caramel, sure-“

“Plural is caramels.”

He made a strangled sound from the back of his throat. “Changing an uncountable noun into a countable one? That’s just lazy.”

“Fine. What do you call it?”

“Toffee.” The vowels rolled off his tongue like silk in that English accent that had made it difficult to fully concentrate from day one. Standing next to him, watching him gently and methodically unfolding the golden wrapper, shining and glinting like a beacon of light…maybe this was all she needed to be happy.

“Taw-fee?”

He pulled a face at her exaggerated American drawl, and she leaned her head on his shoulder as he pried apart the stuck halves of the toffee. She watched him visibly relax as the first tangy notes hit his tongue, her own half close to melting in her palm under the brunt of the setting sun. He met her gaze and gave a faint smile, almost reflexively covering her hand with his own.

“God, you’re so American. So, which is it? Toffee or caramel?”

She bites into what's left of the soft treat she's scraped off her palm. It's warm and comforting and she instantly feels a little more happy. Maybe it's the candy, or maybe it's the boy whose side is pressed into hers. Love, she decides. It's love.

“How many cups of tea have you had today?”

As idyllic as the weekend had been, they were back to their usual busy routine which meant that their evening tea break was the first time they’d see each other since breakfast. She had just walked into the kitchen where Lockwood was seated at the kitchen table, pouring over a mess of papers with a cup of tea to the side. One of the first things she had learnt about Lockwood was his near-debilitating addiction to tea. Now, he silently took a sip from his mug and she gave an exaggerated sigh, settling into the opposite end of the table.

“You really drink too much caffeine.”

He quirked his lips into a lopsided half-smile -/ he peered at the papers she had spilled onto the table. “What’s all…” he gestured to her papers with his mug, “…that?”

“The Rotwell agents give me hell for my American accent when they’re on duty at DEPRAC.” She held up her list of words dolefully. “‘Least I can do is pronounce things right.”

He slid into the chair next to her, taking a look at the list. “Which one are you at?”

“Pri-vacy. Pri...vacy. Nope, can't do it.”

“Of course it sounds weird when you say it like that. Try using it in a sentence.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Fine. If I have to say ‘pri-vacy’ one more time, I’m running you through with my rapier."

Lockwood choked on his tea.

"...or, you know...'pry-vacy' sounds perfectly fine."

She gave him a brief smile. “Anyway, I’ve got to do a Satchell’s run now. Lucy says we’re out of flares. Don’t wait up for me.”

It took her a decent amount of time to collect all the supplies they were out of stock on, yet when she returned Lockwood was still sitting in that same chair, staring at the same papers with worn-out eyes, distractedly tugging at his hair. He barely looked up when she walked in, mystified.

“You’re still up?”

He rubbed his face firmly. “I can’t…I can’t figure this out.” She took a closer look at the papers. There were reports dating back two centuries on the house of one of their upcoming cases.

“The investigation is tomorrow and I have no idea what or where the Source could be.”

“Well…maybe George’s figured it out.”

“If he did, he’d be home by now.” He hunched over the papers once again, his head swaying dangerously close to the table, and she was instantly reminded of how exhausted Lockwood had looked that morning. As if he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. She started stacking some papers together.

“It’s getting late. We should head to bed.”

“But I’m not done yet.”

“You can continue in the morning, but right now, you need to rest.”

His features hardened like he was ready to start a fight, but it lasted all of half a second before they caved to exhaustion. He looked like a drenched cat left out in the rain, with his hair messed up and in disarray.

“George is still at the Archives. What kind of a boss would I be to go to bed now? What kind of a…friend?”

Lockwood leaned back in his chair, briefly pressing a hand to his eyes and then his forehead, his forearm trembling ever so slightly. In the dim light of the kitchen, he seemed more skeleton than Man with his malnourished pallor and the scar on his lip being carefully outlined by a shadow. She ran a hand through his hair, down his neck, all the way to his shoulder.

“Hey. Don’t beat yourself up over it. You’re human, too.”

He gave a deep sigh. “Fine. I’ll come in a while.”

“Promise?”

He gave a jerky nod. The tea in his mug had gone stone cold by then, and so she brewed him a fresh cup. He looked up, confused, as she placed it next to his papers.

“What about the caffeine?”

She bit the inside of her cheek and combed down the hair sticking up all haywire, as if she hadn’t heard him. “What about it?”

He smiled faintly and gave the hand on his shoulder a light squeeze, and returned to his work with his eyes humming with a little more energy.

Later that night, she dreamt that he was falling, and she was losing her mind trying to save him.

She should have known nothing was going to right in the job from the very beginning. None of them had been able to find much information on the house, and they were running late, so tempers were running very high. Even during the case itself, they were forced to split up and fumble through improvised plans. That was until she had stumbled onto Lockwood frozen at the basement door, looking down into the darkness in a strange way.

Go back, he had said. I don’t know what any of us can expect in this place. So I’ll come with you, she had replied. Or let’s wait for George or Lucy. I can’t. Why not? It’s different. I don’t have the time to explain it. Different how?

You’re more important.

The look on his face was more foreign than the house itself.

Now they were home, back at Portland Row. Lucy and George had sensed something was off and retired to their rooms. Lockwood headed towards the kitchen, and she followed him. He hadn’t spoken a word since her face had blanched at the sight of him poised at the basement’s entrance. She tugged at the ends of her hair. She could feel an argument brewing and she didn’t like it one bit.

“Are you okay?”

Lockwood continued rummaging through the refrigerator for his routine drink of orange juice, taking his time to reply. “Don’t I look okay?”

“Yes. No.” He was terribly confusing. “Why did you say you weren’t important?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You said you were less important.”

He finally twisted the cap off the carton with his trembling fingers. The case had shaken all of them up, but for some reason, he was trying to hide it.

“Well…it’s not not true.”

“No it isn’t.”

“I’m a figurehead, Y/N. I represent the agency, that’s my name on the plaque out there, but that’s about it. You, Lucy, George…you’re the soul of the agency.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If…heaven forbid, something were to happen to one of us…”

Oh, he was so aggravating. She massaged her temples. She was going to punch him soon if she wasn’t careful.

“…the lot of you’d be better off without me than anyone else, and-“

"Oh god, shut up already!"

Lockwood abandoned the carton and straightened, and they glared at each other from opposite ends of the kitchen. “Or what? You'll shoot me?"

His expression softened only marginally when he saw how close she was to tears. She shook her head.

"If you pull another stunt like this...I might just have to marry you.”

“I’d have to marry you so that you can look down at your bloody hand and remember that there are people out there who would be nothing without you.”

“Y/-“

“Shame on you, Anthony J. Lockwood. Do you think George wouldn’t care about losing his best friend? Or Lucy? Or me? Hm?”

The tears had started to trickle down her face, and he walked towards her with a sympathetic expression, any and all rage long forgotten, and offered her his handkerchief. She could barely manage a weak glare before caving and accepting it, wiping away at her face. As soon as she was done, she wrapped her arms around him, and he enveloped her in a warm hug that smelled faintly of vanilla.

“That was a…a terrible thing to say, Anthony.”

“I know. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Well, you’re doing a pretty shitty job then. I’m worried about you every day.”

She felt rather than saw his smile, though he could perfectly picture it in her mind - uneven and tipped to the right, but perfectly sincere.

"Also, I'm pretty sure that shooting remark counts as xenophobia."

"Yes, I'm hugging you very xenophobically now."

She buried her face into his chest and scrunched her nose hard. It was moments like these that only cemented her faith that she was never going to find somebody who made her feel the way Lockwood did. Seeing him standing outside the basement, she didn’t even need to think about what to do next. It had become incredibly instinctual - her readiness to take his hand and hurtle into the latest oblivion, blind as a bat. It didn’t get more simple than this: she just wanted to be wherever he was.

It was him and her, and her and him - Portland Row’s cripplingly disaster couple, Mr A.J. Lockwood and Miss Americana.

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #olivia rodrigo #guts spilled #so american #songfic

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formereldestdaughter · 23 days

Note

ok wait i need to hear more of your thoughts on peeta owning a bakery....

This is one of those rare times where I’m pretty sure this anon isn’t someone I know personally bc I’ve subjected anyone who will listen to my rant about the Peeta Bakery Headcanon. Anyway, you’re gonna regret asking this anon bc there are fucking Layers here.

I know this is probably a controversial take based on the number of fics where I’ve seen it, but I simply do not think that Peeta would open a commercial bakery after Mockingjay!! Like on a metatextual level, I don’t think it really fits with the point of the ending of the series. It actually sort of fascinates me that it’s just such a common headcanon because the ending of Mockingjay is exceedingly vague. I think that vagueness invites us, as readers, to imagine a better world post-revolution. A world where Katniss would feel confident that her children would be safe from injustice, where she’d feel confident that her children would never know want the way she did as a child. A just world. A kinder world. Can a capitalist society ever be just? Is a capitalist society where a disabled teenager has no other means to subsist himself (or feels like there’s no other way he can be a contributing member of his community) really the post-revolution world we dream of? Is that really the best we can imagine?

(This got so insanely long I’m adding a read more lmao)

I get that showing a better world is not always the point of post-mockingjay headcanons/fics. Like there are plenty of really great post-mockingjay fics I’ve seen where, yeah, part of the fic is that society like ISN’T all that different or all that much better. I’ve seen that really well done! Hell, I’ve written them myself! It’s easy to imagine how a lot of aspects of society would not get an overhaul, a lot of the same structural inequalities would continue to exist. One headcanon that really stuck with me (I can’t remember which fic it was from) was that Peeta sells basically mail order baked goods to people on the Capitol, sending them iced cakes and pastries by train, because there are still people who were “fans” of theirs during the Games. And idk this doesn’t actually have much to do with my point lol but I liked it because it’s kind of fucked up and like! Yeah! It makes sense! If he needed money that would be a good way to make it! War often makes people rich, often for horrible reasons, and often it’s people who already have capital in the first place.

Anyway, more about the hypothetical bakery because alright. I bring up the fact that “yeah society not being all that different post-revolution and still being an unjust capitalist hellscape” could be a reason why Peeta re-opens a bakery because that’s actually never the types of fics where I see the bakery headcanon. Fics where Peeta opens a bakery are usually trying to make the exact opposite point. Like. Things are getting better, now he can open a bakery! Look at how much better the world is now, plus he’s got a bakery! Peeta is healing, that’s why he can open a bakery now! And I am so, so sorry to inform everyone who’s never had the grave misfortune of owning a family business, but there is truly nothing further from the truth lmao. Like just putting aside the immense amount of emotional baggage that Peeta has about his family, running a small business is an insane amount of work in any context and being a baker especially is physically grueling and involves early hours (and long hours) that aren’t really the best fit with the multiple ways that Peeta is disabled now. (I could go into this more because I have a lot of thoughts. But I will spare you.). I also think it’s seen throughout the books that Peeta is someone who needs time to pursue creative outlets to process his feelings and someone who values leisure and values quality time with his loved ones. And having grown up in his family’s bakery, I think he’d understand the reality that running a bakery wouldn’t leave much space of those pursuits and wouldn’t leave much space for him to have the things that keep him healthy and stable. I think he’d know that the way he is now— after two Games and the war and unspeakable torture at the hands of a dictator—isn’t compatible with the lifestyle necessary for running a commercial bakery.

And tbh with that in mind, I don’t think he’d push himself to re-open a business (one that would be a constant reminder of his dead family and his complicated relationships with them that got no closure) that would require him to sacrifice his physical and emotional well-being. Like I think he might look into the possibility, I think he might even start trying to open a bakery out of a sense of obligation/duty, maybe harboring some idea that this is who he was supposed to be, who he would've been without the Games, or that it’s this last piece of his family that can live on, or that it’s this last connection to his family so he can’t let it die too. But ultimately, I think any attempt to open a bakery wouldn’t get very far. Maybe he'd start wading into the logistical nightmare that is small business ownership and realize it's not for him (because it's probably also true that as much as him and his brothers were involved in the business, there's almost certainly parts they weren't involved with and didn't see, i.e., filing taxes). Or maybe looking into opening a bakery— how triggering it is, the stress of it— causes a downward spiral. Maybe he hates how much he's worrying everyone by unraveling. Maybe having a breakdown from the stress of just trying to open a bakery makes him realize, yeah, maybe in another life he would have ran his family’s bakery but the way he is now just doesn’t work with running a bakery, not without great sacrifices he's not willing to make. I just can’t see a bakery coming to fruition.

I know a lot of fics include Peeta deciding to reopen a bakery as a big step in his healing or include him rebuilding a bakery as part of his healing process but honestly, I think the opposite would be more true: I think Peeta either trying/failing to open a bakery or ultimately deciding not to open a bakery would be hugely healing for him. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way he is now as a person, his new limitations but also his strengths. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way his life his now and accepting that he likes his life the way it is, that he’s satisfied with his life without needing to own a bakery. I think it would be an important part of him coming to terms with the loss of his family. I think he knows he can never have things back as they were and I don’t think he would try to recreate them, especially because his family’s legacy isn’t a business. I think he’s emotionally intelligent enough and self reflective enough to realize that what mattered to him about the bakery— taking care of others by feeding them, being integrated into his community and being actively involved in it, brightening people’s days with delightful things whether that’s beautiful cakes or hearty food or delicious treats— and the things he learned from his family through the bakery, are things that he can carry on in other meaningful ways.

(Do you regret sending this ask yet, anon? Because if not, you will soon. I’m not done yet. There’s more.)

I wasn’t really sure where to put this next part in what is rapidly becoming an essay because it sort of combines the points about like “what do we imagine a post-mockingjay society to look like” with the practical difficulties of starting this bakery but here’s another thing: do people really think that the Mellarks owned the land the bakery was on?? Like, sure, the merchants are the petit bourgeois of Twelve but I still don’t imagine they really own anything. In a society where houses are assigned to people upon marriage, where property ownership and capital are so closely interconnected with citizenship (as shown by the Plinths who, by having immense capital, are able to leave their District and become citizens of the Capitol) do people really think the Mellarks would be allowed to own the land their bakery is on?? I always imagined it sort of like a tenant farming situation: the Capitol gives them the raw materials for the bakery and in return the bakery give them some absurdly high portion of their profits, or the Capitol sells them a year’s supply of raw materials at a premium on credit and at the end of the year the Mellarks have to use the money they made with those materials to pay it back, except it’s never enough to turn a profit so they always have to buy next year’s materials on credit and the cycle continues.

We (understandably) get a really skewed view of the merchant class through Katniss’s perspective so I can see why people come to the conclusion that his family owned the property and, as the last surviving member, he would’ve inherited it. I’ve seen the inheritance thing in fics a lot or a hand wavey “well Twelve was decimated to no one owns anything anymore so it can be his” or even like an almost sort of reparations type situation where he’s entitled to the land as a surviving refugee of Twelve. But I don’t know. I guess I don’t think it fits with everything else we know about Panem that the Mellarks would’ve owned that land and I think the question of whether the government would’ve let him take ownership of the land post-revolution brings up a lot of issues about the structure of society post-Mockingjay that I find more interesting to explore in other ways, especially when, from an emotional perspective, 1) I find the idea of Peeta not opening a bakery more compelling and 2) I don’t think it really fits his character arc by the end of Mockingjay to reopen a bakery, as I went on about at length above lol.

On the flip side: literally who cares!! Do whatever you want!! Headcanon whatever you want!! I get why people go for the bakery!! It’s fun, it’s wholesome, it’s a built in bakery AU that isn’t even an AU. It doesn’t matter if it’s practical or realistic!! It doesn’t need to be practical or realistic!! It’s fanfic of a dystopian YA series!! My unfortunate affliction is that I grew up in a family that owned a restaurant and that I have multiple degrees in the social sciences so I can’t see the bakery without being like “What about the overheard? What about the start up costs? Who’s spending long nights balancing the books? Is Peeta covering shifts when an employee calls in sick? Is Peeta the sole person working there until the bakery is open long enough (often a year or more) to start turning a profit? How does that sleep schedule work with his nightmares? How does that work with Katniss’s nightmares? What happens when he has an episode and suddenly needs to take the day off before he has any employees? Does the bakery just remain closed for the day? Can the profit margins withstand regular unexpected closures? Can the supplies withstand regular unexpected closures?” And if the answer is “Elliott none of those things matter he’s not doing the bakery because he needs the money but because he wants to”, then my question is why does he want to? Does he not get the same sort of satisfaction out of feeding his loved ones? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would rather give away baked goods than sell them?? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would prefer to make cakes for people’s special occasions upon and then when they insist on paying him for it, he only lets them “pay for the ingredients” which actually cost significantly more than he says they did??

So yeah my point is that it’s a matter of personal taste! It doesn’t fit the way I see the series but that doesn’t mean it’s like wrong, I’m not an authority on Peeta lmao.

It’s also a matter of personal taste in the sense that I find the themes that most resonate with me at the end of Mockingjay (and the end of Peeta’s arc specifically) more interesting to explore in other ways. Grief, living with loss, relearning yourself, finding hope, figuring out your place in a dramatically different world when you don’t even know who you are anymore, healing, building a new life after such complete and total destruction of your old life— those are all things I find compelling about the end of Mockingjay but for me the bakery isn’t the most compelling way to explore them.

Not to say I find the concept of the bakery totally uninteresting. I have this fic about Johanna that I’ll probably never finish where the point sort of is that, yeah, her life really isn’t all that much better after the war. It’s been years at this point and she’s still miserable and she doesn’t know how to be a person but by the end she’s trying to figure it out. And towards the end, Peeta tells her that he’s spent years sort of passively, half-heartedly trying to figure out how to inherit the land his family’s bakery was on, only to find out it was never theirs in the first place. They’d been renting it the whole time and he’d never even known as a kid. So he sort of passively, half-heartedly went on another wild goose chase to find the owner and now, finally, after years of writing to various government agencies and being sent in circles and things being barely functional, he’s managed to track down the owner. Now it’s owned by the daughter of the man who owned it when he was a kid because the original owner (who was likely up to some sketchy war crime shit) died during the war and she inherited it (the irony…). He got in contact with her and asked how much it would take for her to sell it and she told him she’s not interested in selling but in light of the situation, in light of the fact that he’d have to build a new building in order to operate a bakery, that she’d cut him a deal— she’d only require 50% of the bakery’s profits as rent instead of the 80% his family used to pay. And of course Johanna is outraged, that’s not right, the owner shouldn’t be allowed to do that, they should do something about it, they should fight back. And Peeta is like. Not interested. He was actually sort of relieved that opening wasn’t very feasible. Getting the answer was a lightbulb moment where he saw that over the years of trying to look into this, he’s built a life that he likes— one where he’s stable, where his loved ones are stable, where he’s cared for and can care for others— and he doesn’t really want to change it drastically by opening a bakery anyway. He just needed an answer, one way or another, before he could get some closure and move on. (And the point of the conversation is Johanna is having her own lightbulb moment that it’s okay to move on, it’s okay to change, it’s not a betrayal of the people and things she’s lost but that’s not my point here!!).

But anyway. That’s obviously not about running the bakery— it’s about the choice to not run one.

Anyway!! Anyway… are you satisfied anon? Is this what you wanted?

Lastly, here is my most important qualm with the bakery headcanon: must Peeta be gainfully employed? Is it not enough for him to be Katniss’s boytoy? Can’t he just paint and garden and bake and hang out with his girlfriend all day? Is that really too much to ask?

#peeta mellark #thg #the hunger games #the hunger games meta #anyway wow this got so long and I literally read it through one (1) time so uhhh sorry if this makes no sense!!#as I was doing my one read through and realized that one of my other thoughts on this is that yeah I can much more easily see the #headcanon that peeta like sells baked goods (probably at cost with no profit) out of his kitchen because that’s much more flexible #and I think that would work a lot better with what like I guess I’d call his psychiatric disability post mockingjay #and how he’d certainly want to take care of Katniss too #like that sort of flexibility makes a lot more sense for him and it’s like. if he doesn’t bake for a few days or however long then it’s fin #it’s not a formal brick and mortar business #it’s just something he’s doing because it’s a way to be involved with people and a way to do something he’s passionate about #without there being waste and while covering some of the costs #and he doesn’t have to like keep books or do payroll or any of the things I can’t see him being very passionate about #as far as like bakery management goes Lmao he can just bake!!#but then I started getting into this whole thing about how that quote-unquote ‘running a business’ like that (informally from your house)#is actually a really common practice for people living in poverty so probably something that Katniss and peeta would’ve been familiar wirh #anyway and then this whole rant about how the emphasis on the brick and mortar bakery often goes hand in hand with #this widespread fandom thing of having a fundamental misunderstanding of how rural poverty works and what it looks like #but then I was too deep into it and said you know what? never mind! and deleted it lmao

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jinnie-ret · 7 months

Note

hii, its the anon who asked about lgbtq+ readers.

what i had in mind was a nonbinary 9th member who uses they/them pronouns and interviewers and talk how hosts etc keep misgendering them and using the wrong pronouns, saying how theyre the only female member. the boys are the one to keep adamantly correcting them, no matter how many times they have to do it. the reader would be annoyed at the interviewers but glad the boys had their back, maybe the boys reassuring them at the end.

obviously only write it if you feel comfortable, thank you for answering my original ask!! your writing is great and a big comfort, i honestly think youd be great at writing it but this is your blog and only write what you feel comfy writing <333

who I am

stray kids x ninth member non-binary!reader (platonic)

genre: angst, fluff

content warnings: ignorant interviewer, misgendering

word count: 1.4k

summary: the boys support y/n for who they are, and show them that they truly have their back when a podcast goes wrong.

Thank you so much! Ok! I finally wrote it! I hope that this brings you great comfort like my other fics do too! And please give me feedback that this was written okay because I would never want to misrepresent anyone or their feelings in my writing.

As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

"Welcome back to the podcast! Today we have a special guest, or guests, should I say, Stray Kids! Everyone give it up for Stray Kids!" the interviewer, Oscar, introduces us, the camera panning to us all sat in a cosy studio setting. We were currently in LA promoting our new album.

"Thank you inviting us!" Bang Chan says bashfully. We all knew of the podcast, well, us English speakers did, and we were so excited to be on the show.

"So, let's get right into it, you're here to talk about your new album, right?" Oscar smiles, looking down at his notes before asking us the question.

"Yeah, we've just released our new album 5STAR, and we hope that our fans enjoy it, and, yeah!" Felix begins to explain, smiling as he trails off, not knowing what else to add on. You give him a rub on the shoulder, letting him know that he was doing a good job. That's what you loved about being in Stray Kids, no matter who you were, you had each other's backs.

"It really is so cool to have you all here, and may I say, this really is a unique bunch of members you have here," Oscar waves his hands as he explains.

"Well, we like to think that we all bring something different to the table haha," you laugh along politely.

"Well, that's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about, Y/N," Oscar turns his body towards you slightly.

The others go 'ohhh', making you blush slightly.

"You want to ask me?" you brush your hair back, your newly cut black mullet, which went down a treat with stays.

"Yes, the reason I say you're in quite a unique situation, is because, well, it's so rare to see 8 guys and a girl in one group together!" Oscar smiles.

Oh.

Your smile dropped.

Maybe you had gotten your hopes up, thinking he'd be talking about your input on the fashion of the group, considering it was quite well known, especially with the group's growing popularity that you created many of the pieces that yourself and the boys would wear.

But no. Somehow you didn't think that this topic would be brought up once again.

"Stray Kids is family, no matter what," Hyunjin spoke up, communicating as best he could in English that gender didn't matter.

The boys could sense your discomfort at Oscar blatantly calling you a girl. Surely he's done enough research that he knows you identify differently?

Even the less confident English speakers, Lee Know and Jeongin seemed to catch on what was happening.

"And what an interesting family you are indeed," Oscar didn't notice your unease or the slightly more defensive stances that the boys acquired from their seats.

"I also wanted to comment that I think Y/N is my bias, you guys!"

Seeming to think there was a more lighter mood in the room, Y/N themself to relax a bit and laugh along.

"Come on boys, don't be jealous, I just think she's got this special quality about her," Oscar continued, thinking the frowns on your members' faces were playfully jealous of his comment.

"They are very special to us, we feel lucky to have them in our group," Han spoke up, subtlely linking his pinkie with yours as a form of comfort. The boys knew that such situations like this still hurt you, because of how you struggled to understand why you felt different and finally knew why, it was frustrating when other people, who were clearly in a position to do some research, didn't know.

Of course you'd give the benefit of the doubt, maybe he didn't know and he might be apologetic, in which case it would all smooth over.

But it wasn't in this case.

"Actually, Oscar, Y/N is non-binary," Chan began, looking towards you to see if you wanted to continue.

"Yes, I use they/them pronouns and don't identify as either male or female, I'm just, me," you shrug it off and say casually, because that's how you felt it should be. It wasn't a big deal,.it was just who you are.

"Oh wow, that's quite interesting, so you don't look at it like she's your younger sister? Or you don't think that as a boyband you have a disadvantage having a female member?" Oscar furrowed his brows.

"We don't feel the need to recognise our member by a gender," Seungmin grabbed the mic provided by the studio and calmly spoke into it, it almost fully calmed you down, his soft voice as he spoke in English filling the room.

"It doesn't matter. We are a group. Just a group of people who like making music and entertaining our stays, and that's how they like it, so..." Felix's knee bobbed up and down, and you couldn't tell if the ray of sunshine was slowly turning into a thundercloud or if he was nervous to speak his mind. You were thankful either way.

"Right... I mean, it's funny, it must be weird, like having her as a novelty to the group, almost?" Oscar said genuinely, like he didn't see an issue in how he was conducting himself.

"They are best," Jeongin threw a cheeky smile your way, making the weight on your shoulders feel just a little bit lighter.

"We're a unit. A team. I mean, it's funny, we don't feel the need to separate ourselves based on gender," Chan passive aggressively said, using the man's previous words to show he would not take anymore ignorance to how his member was being treated.

"Look, I don't expect people to understand straight away, but I can appreciate them looking at me not just for what I believe is a socially constructed view, one that I don't align with, but for my talent," you slowly explained, nerves filling your body as you hoped the way that you had explained yourself had made sense and would get a message across to the interviewer.

"See, that's something I think would bring even more attention to your success! Y/N do you think that creating this facade has brought you more fans?" Oscar questioned, his kind intentions slipping away.

"Excuse me?" you were taken aback. Facade? He thought that you were pretending?

"Hyung? We can go now? Yeah, ok, great. We'll be leaving now, thank you for your time, I think," Chan sarcastically smiled at Oscar after getting the green light from their manager that they could leave.

"So, that wraps up our interview with Stray Kids today..."

You sighed as you all got into the van, leaving the studio all together. You sat in the back with Lee Know and Changbin.

"What did he say at the end?" Lee Know questioned, rubbing your knee soothingly.

"That I'm a fake," you scrunch your face, looking at the ceiling of the car to trap your tears and avoid them from escaping.

"He has no idea what he's talking about, Y/Nnie," Changbin turned to you as best he could at the back of the van.

"I just wish I could feel normal, but sometimes it's things like this that just alienate me from everyone else, you know?" you sigh, tapping your leg with your fingers to distract yourself.

"You're far from an alien, Y/N. We don't care about what other people say, you're a part of us. Chan hyung was right, we're a unit, and we'll stay as one forever," Hyunjin reassured you.

"Plus, if anyone is an alien, it's Hannie," Seungmin savagely chuckled.

"I'M AN ALIEN ON THIS EARTH!!!" Han took that as his cue to sing his song loudly, causing you to groan and cover your ears.

"Someone help him return to his home planet," you giggled, making the other boys laugh along with you.

"Seriously though, we've got you, hm? Stupid interviewers like that have no respect..." Jeongin shook his head, feeling irritated.

"He was nice at the start..." you trailed off, thinking about Oscar's bright personality which was for sure what brought in viewers and listeners of the podcast.

"But then he showed his true colours, he was rude, you didn't deserve the disrespect, end of," Chan said from the front of the car, making his voice a little louder than normal so everyone could hear.

"Thanks, Channie," you smiled, the two boys in the back of the car with you letting you relax against them as the stress seemed to leave your body.

They had your back, always.

tagged: @skz-streamer @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @kiraisastay

#skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fic #stray kids imagines #non binary reader #skz x non binary reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz x oc #stray kids x non binary reader

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a-very-tired-jew · 2 months

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We have to talk about Leftist Antisemitism

One of the things I have been grappling with since Oct 7th is the rise of antisemitism in Leftist spaces. Often we find ourselves falling into the same old position of blaming the Right for these issues. However, over the past few decades minority voices have pointed out that the Left has issues with bigotry in its own way. For myself, and likely many other Jews, growing up in Leftist spaces I heard antisemitic jokes and lines all the time. However, they were never the overt hate fueled rhetoric I would hear from the Right. Conspiracies were relegated to "The Rothschilds control the world" rather than "The Jews control the world." Regardless of how you feel about the rich, the Rothschilds are a dog whistle for Jews. Hell, my own family members would say this same line because the majority of us are on the Left. So obviously we take a position regarding the ultra rich. However, this Rothschilds line isn't the only dog whistle. Often there were jokes at your expense from outside your in-group. Common refrains that *insert Jewish dog whistle* couldn't be trusted due to *insert conspiracy coded in Leftist language*. That's the issue... The antisemitism on the Left is coded in a language that makes it more subtle than overt rightwing antisemitism. But how did we get here? It definitely predates Oct 7th. We can partly lay blame at this at the feet of something that feels like an old and tired trope at this point: Russia. In particular, the good ole USSR. You see, dear reader, regardless of how you describe your sociopolitical and economics leanings, and regardless of whether or not you reject USSR style Communism, their style and impact still influence you and the rest of the world. As Leftists we often stand opposed to many aspects of Western capitalist ideals, which in turn exposes us to many of the anti-Western writings, philosophies, beliefs, etc... The issue is that the USSR has a very sordid history with antisemitism. Some of you may be saying "but wait! There were Jewish Bolsheviks! Stalin even supported Israel!", don't you worry. We'll get there. While there may have been Jewish Bolsheviks and members of the party post revolution, it does not change the policies and actions that preceded and followed. Robert Weinberg, Dara Horn, David Nirenberg, and other historians have all written extensively at some point or another about this very issue. I highly recommend Dara Horn's latest piece for the Atlantic "Why The Most Educated People in America Fall for Antisemitic Lies". She briefly covers this topic. If you can't access it, well here we go. Zionism as a concept had already been around for a few decades by the time the Communist Revolution occurred, having been solidified by the Dreyfuss Affair in the late 1800s. Zionism is/was also considered Jewish nationalism. While a Jew could be a Russian Jew, German Jew, or any other "nation" Jew, they were still considered an other and thus they could never truly be a nationalist for that country. Only for Israel/Zion. As such, Jews in the USSR were not trusted as it was argued they could not be truly devoted to the Party. Jews were then labeled as Zionists. Zionism was considered anti-Communist, and racist due to the Party purposefully putting out that the "chosen people" line meant that Jews were supremacists and believed themselves to be better than others (The chosen people line actually refers to us choosing to adhere to certain laws). As such, Zionist activities were shut down as they were an act of treason and betrayal. This means that synagogues, shuls, business, and more were shut down as a means to disrupt the "Jewish conspirators". It did not matter that Jews were involved in the revolution, if you were Jewish you were an other and could not be trusted. pt 1.

#leftist #judaism #activism #antisemitism

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

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Home

Yan Demon Harem + G.N Priest Reader Blurb

Priest Reader returns home for some relaxation after a stressful day at the church.. or strip teases in front of the insatiable demons within their residency. Spicy stuff here mdni.

Home at last.

Just in time too. Your face muscles were a smile away from permanent freezing in a mocking grimace of your silent torment, and the rest of your body wasn't fairing much better either. It's your own fault for leaning an ear to a community that does nothing but bottle up gossip all week long. If you had to hear about another alleged affair or congratulate another person's grandchild's achievements your head was going to explode.

What you need now was to get out of your stiff clothes and unwind in the one house more sanctum than the home of your lord. Palm on the handle, you rest your body weight on the door as you grab your keys. Shifting on your feet, the door creaks open before the proper key is halfway through the lock. Strange. Must've forgotten to lock the door. Suppose that even at the start of your day you were already exhausted. You take a deep breath and your first step.

"I'm home!"

Cool wind comprised of fragrant air surrounds you as you enter into the living room. Mountain breeze, the most neutral and non-offending scents of the candles you received. It worked well to cover up the stench of sulfur and ease you away from the dull ache splitting up the back of your skull. The observant eye would come to notice that not a shadow clung to the walls of your humble home. The couch, the table lamp, your own figure - all missing from their assigned place. It's only when you remove your rosary that these silhouettes return; the outlines of the inanimate objects contorting and bending to impossible shapes around the human shadow amongst their horde. Your teeth chitter as intangible whispers flood your mind and overflow into the very core of your soul. Popping your collar, it stops - a slick wetness pooling along the slip of your skin. You reach over your shoulder, swatting at the air.

"I'm not ready for this heat. It's colder than an icebox in here and I'm already sweating up at storm. Best to get out of these clothes before I melt."

Voice smooth and welcome like warm honey, your scripted cluelessness mocks those you have willing allowed within your domain. Mortals leagues above you in earthly power had fallen to their temptations many a time before, yet they all swarm in desirous wait for the taste of one human form. Your figure released from the unflattering bulk of your robes, their eyes drink every curve the remainder of your clothing had yet to reveal. You start by kicking off your shoes and working out of the pants to relieve your legs of the strain - claws ghosting up the back of your thigh just out of reach of sinking in your flesh as you walk over to the couch. Legs strewn over one arm and your head against the over, you curve into the seat of the couch as your hands wonder between the first and second button of your shirt. You hum to yourself, spreading the opening wide with your fingers.

"This is comfortable enough already. I think I may rest here just like this."

Talons inches from grazing your skin, the buttons of your shirt scatter to the floor as your shirt is ripped off you. Crooked fingers guide your gaze up to the shadow looming above - impatience written in its returning glare. It hisses and buckles to your reach, raised canines a mere bite away from your arousing lips.

"Priest....we grow bored of the games you play. We play by your rules and avoid the members of your church... What does that give us?"

"Some of you have already wised up to the fact it's first come, first served."

The final article of your clothing removed during conversation, a heavy tongue presses from your sternum to between your legs as they're held apart by the second demon's broad shoulders. You arch as the slithering mass finds its way to your entrance, grinning at the other unfazed besides the knee jerk reaction. Frustrated to have lost this round, it rams its scarred and coarse lips against yours before straightening and shoveling its length down your throat. Trained with handling your demons before hand, you need little time to adjust despite all it gave you. A demon, but one with a heart nonetheless. It groans as you stifle a laugh, easing your tongue a vein treading your lips. Its hands find perch on your throat as other greedy hands already taken hold of the remainder of your exposed body, working you through the girth that splits you from the other end and attempting highs of their own from your irresistible and sought after flesh. All this jostling was making you more tired, but their endless touches and words of praise washed off some of your fatigue. It was nice to know that some people actually appreciated you, and would take good care of you. One of the many perks of being home.

#Priest reader #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere x you #yandere blurb #yandere drabble #yandere writing #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere teratophilia #yandere smut #yandere demon x reader #yandere harem

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drvirgus · 1 month

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Why You?

Idol! Yunjin X Idol! Reader X Idol! Chaewon

Description: What if the first official lesbian in the K-pop industry has to fake date her biggest school enemy? What if Y/n is already in a relationship, and it happens to be with one of the Member of Yunjin?

Warnings: kind of Cheating? Lots of Communication lack, strong language. Kys jokes

Chapter: Party (2) (half-written)

Masterlist

———————————————————————————

With a grin on my face, I stood up from the couch, immediately squeezing through the space between Jimin's legs and the coffee table to reach the front door. The glass in my left hand, I used my right hand to open the door and instantly recognized the familiar faces of my friends.

Minji wrinkled her nose as she squeezed past me, "I can't believe you called every one of us," the younger one exclaimed as she headed to the kitchen to put down the heavy bag she was carrying. My eyes shifted to Yeji, who gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, and then to Ryujin, who also arrived and went straight to Jimin.

"How long have you been drinking?" Kazuha asked as she looked me up and down. I chuckled a bit as her cool hands landed on my visibly warm face, and she sighed contentedly. I closed my eyes at the touch but opened them again when I felt a hand on my hip.

Turning my head to my beautiful girlfriend, I grinned as I focused solely on Chaewen. She smiled immediately as her arms wrapped around my neck. "Not in front of the kids," sakura playfully remarked as she pulled Eunchae along.

Amused, I laughed, and my free hand, not holding the glass, landed on Chaewan's hip. "Hey," I said, softer now, and Chaewon responded with an amused snort, "Hi," she whispered back as our lips met. I closed my eyes in pleasure, setting the glass in my hand carelessly on some nearby cabinet, which made Chaewen laugh, interrupting the kiss.

Chaewen's hand on my shoulder pushed me slightly away, "I just got here," she said, a glint in her eyes as she looked at me. I continued staring at her, my mouth slightly open, just watching my girlfriend.

"Okay," I whispered, now a bit calmer as I took a small step away from my girlfriend. My hand gripped my glass again as I took a small sip. Chaewon shook her head amusedly and gestured for me to follow. Smiling, I glanced at the entertaining crowd in our living room. Some sat on the couch, while others were on the floor. A few had brought chairs, while others hadn't.

"If you're just gonna hang out with your girlfriend, you didn't need to invite us," Sakura remarked, rolling her eyes. Eunchae laughed wildly and clapped her hands like an otter, which made me place my glass back on the table. "No, no! Not again!" Sakura exclaimed, making me grin.

With a sudden move, I flopped onto Sakura, causing her bones to crack a bit. She emitted a pleasurable sound, almost like a moan, which surprised me. My eyes widened as I looked directly into her face. Embarrassed, her hand landed on my face, pushing me away.

Shocked by what I heard, I stared at Eunchae for a while. My mouth opened and closed before opening again. "We're not kids anymore, Eunchae," Aeri said, swirling her wine glass in a circular motion. My eyes briefly shifted to Minjeong and Jimin. "Oh, come on. I've seen this a lot in American movies, and everyone had fun with it," Eunchae explained, pleadingly looking at me.

I licked my lips once. It could be a good way to set up Jimin and Minjeong... Thoughtfully, I sipped my drink and then nodded my head. "Okay! Let's play 7 Minutes in Heaven," I replied, prompting the others to look at me inquisitively. Yunjin chuckled. She looked at me, smirking, and nodded, "Yes, I'm up for it too."

We all put our phones into a bag, and Eunchae shook it like crazy. Minjeong was the first to pull phones out of the bag. "Kazuha and Yeji," she said, and the mentioned individuals immediately stood up. Yeii gave her girlfriend a kiss before disappearing into the bathroom with Kazuha.

Eunchae clapped her hands joyfully. Smirking at the younger one's behavior, I just shook my head. "What exactly are we going to do in the meantime?" I asked, looking at each one of them. Chaewon's hand was on my thigh, while she repeatedly brought her glass to her lips.

"I hope they won't be making out," Ryulin grumbled, which made Minji laugh. "What? Making out? Why?" Chaewon asked indignantly, looking around.

Yunjin laughed and leaned forward. "Well, it's actually normal to kiss during these 7 minutes. It's called that for a reason," Yunjin answered with a persistent grin on her face.

Chaewon looked at me, "Why did you want to play then?" she asked, a bit louder, making me flinch. Almost immediately, I saw Minjeong stop smiling, and giving Chaewon a deadly look. I smiled reassuringly, "You don't have to kiss," I replied, placing my hand on Chaewon‘s thigh. My thumb soothingly stroked her exposed skin, making her relax.

Time flew by, and more people were chosen to spend these 7 minutes together. A grin spread across my face as I saw Minjeong and Jimin, exactly the couple I had hoped for, coming out of the bathroom. Minjeong's face was completely flushed, but neither of them said anything. None of us knew exactly what happened inside.

"Y/n and..." Minjeong started, pulling out a phone. She looked at the phone case, questioning, "Whose is this?" Immediately, both Yunjin and Chaewon raised their hands. Minjeong hesitated, "What's your wallpaper?" she asked, making Chaewon smile. She glanced into my eyes briefly before answering Minjeong, ",A picture of Y/n and me," she replied, and Chaewon briefly illuminated the phone.

Curious, Minji looked at the phone, but Minjeong locked it again and tossed it into the bag. "Yunjin," she announced, raising my eyebrows. Minji looked at Minjeong, and both of them seemed to communicate with their eyes. "Okay," Yunjin said and stood up from her seat. I quickly gave my girlfriend a swift kiss before following Yunjin into the bathroom.

#newjeans minji #newjeans #itzy yeji #itzy #aespa minjeong #aespa giselle #aespa ningning #aespa karina #aespa winter #aespa #le sserafim #le sserafim smau #le sserafim x reader #yunjin x reader #yunjin x you #huh yunjin #chaewon x reader #kim chaewon

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kkami-writes · 8 months

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Devil's Advocate – Chapter One. cw. written in third person, other chapters will be second person unless otherwise specified wc. 1.1k (1,118)

October 31, 2020 “Honestly, I think this is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” Hyunjin mumbles out, mostly to himself but his other members are quick to shush him and he goes back to curling himself into a ball. He wonders briefly why he was even here in the first place.

Him, along with Jisung and Jeongin, were currently sitting in Felix’s room, surrounded by a shit ton of candles that added to the ambience but didn’t provide much light to the dark room. Hyunjin vaguely wondered where Felix had gotten his hands on this many candles, but it was the least of his worries. The two youngest were preoccupied with a ouija board that was laid on top of what he assumed was supposed to be a pentagram; their hands settled on the planchette, moving it across the board in nonsensical circles.

It was, of course, Felix’s idea to try ‘communicating with the spirits’, seeing as it was halloween of all days and he had insisted that you were supposed to do stupid stuff like this on the spooky holiday. Everyone else had blatantly refused though, leaving just the four of them huddled on the floor. Jisung sat off to the side, a bit further than the others as he clutched a container of salt to his chest.

‘For protection, duh,’ was his simple response when they had asked him what he brought the seasoning for. No more questions had been asked after that.

Outside a storm raged on, rain beating loudly against the windows of the dorm, adding to the creepy atmosphere they had set for themselves. Lightning could be heard in the distance, rumbling softly.

Hyunjin on the other hand, was just about done with his members' shenanigans. He was more than ready to call it a night and crawl into his nice warm bed that was practically calling his name. It was just about to strike midnight and nothing even remotely interesting had happened in the last ten minutes. How much longer were they gonna keep trying?

Felix and Jeongin on the other hand were still visibly excited, the former starting to chant something in what Hyunjin supposed was to be latin, though being incredibly butchered by the deep voiced aussie. At this, he’s officially done. Hyunjin could only handle so much from them.

“You guys are crazy, I’m out,” He says with a sigh, moving to stand up and leave.

It’s at this moment though that lightning strikes nearby, resulting in a loud echoing boom that feels like it shakes the entire dorm. All of them scream loudly, definitely waking up their neighbors (who have already filed plenty of noise complaints against the group). Jisung practically flings the salt out of his hands, effectively sprinkling it all over the carpet as he moves to cling onto Jeongin.

The candles suddenly blow out and they’re screaming again - this time Felix launching himself into Hyunjin’s chest, the latter eagerly wrapping his arms around the lithe boy for any source of comfort. An almost eerie silence overtakes them as they sit in the darkness for a few minutes, no one daring to utter a single sound.

“Can we be done now? I think my heart is about to give up,” It’s Jisung that breaks the silence, a slight whine to his voice as it cracks from the fear that’s stuck in his throat.

“Aw, don’t you wanna have some more fun?” A new voice pipes up, this one distinctly female and that was definitely not here before. The boys are screaming for a third time, all of them scrambling up in an attempt to get away from this intruder that sounded far too close to them. The disembodied voice laughs at their fright, the sound is light and sultry, almost borderline seductive.

“Jeez you guys are loud. Calm down. Here, let me get the lights,” At this, all the candles flicker back to life, the boys watching with wide eyes. All four of them had ended up huddled together, pressed into the corner of the room and clinging to each other rather desperately.

Hyunjin blinks in disbelief at the sight before him. In the middle of the room, laid on top of the makeshift pentagram and ouija board is a woman. The position she’s in is seductive, one leg fully extended and the other propped up at an angle with a hand on her hip while the other holds her head up. Clad in black lingerie, there’s a corset wrapped around her waist that nicely accentuates her curves with a garter belt that holds up sheer thigh highs. To top everything off, her black stiletto shoes are definitely at least 3 or 4 inches and could probably kill a man.

Hyunjin finds it rather hard to swallow down the lump in his now very dry throat.

The thing that stands out the most are the bright red horns on top of her head, they’re slightly curved inwards and they match the eerie color of her eyes that are currently glowing and piercing through the four boys. To top everything off, she’s also got a tail, it’s pointed at the end and currently in the air, swirling around as if it was a snake hunting for its prey.

Silence follows for a few minutes, none of the boys really know what to say, their minds coming up blank in the impossible situation before them. The girl is simply studying them closely, not bothering to move from her comfortable spot on the floor. They don’t get the chance to say anything before the door to Felix’s room is being slammed open, the other members piling in.

“Hey, we heard you screaming? Is everything ok?” Chan asks the four boys in the corner, not even noticing the biggest problem in the middle of the room as he goes into leader mode. The other three have definitely noticed the new person in the room, who had definitely not been there before.

“Hyung,” Minho’s nudging into Chan’s side, his eyes glued onto the half-naked girl whom his leader hasn’t even seen.

“Oh my god what,” Chan starts as he turns towards Minho, whose gaze is somewhere else and he lets himself follow the other’s line of sight. He can’t see too well in the barely lit room so he quickly flips the light switch on.

He falters at the figure he can now clearly see, she’s still laid out on the floor, seemingly content just watching the events fold before her. But once she notices that Chan’s eyes have landed on her, she’s sending him a cheeky grin and a small wave - her sharp canines not going unnoticed by the eight.

“Well hello there,”

#stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagine #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #stray kids angst #stray kids au #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids series #stray kids scenarios

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writerblue275 · 2 months

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Heartsteel love language headcanon (Giving and Receiving)

Inspiration: I was thinking about this because we were discussing the idea in the book club I’m a part of. So I thought about me and that led me to think about what Heartsteel’s love languages would be!

Champions: Heartsteel

Genre: Headcanon

Type: FLUFF

Gender: Gender Neutral Reader!

TW: None!

Aphelios

Giving: Words of Affirmation

Now some of you might be giving me side-eye, but hear me out. This is both verbal and non-verbal.

We know he canonically can speak, just not loudly and he doesn’t talk super often. Now I still believe he’d primarily communicate in a way that’s non-verbal, such as sign language, in order to not overwork his vocal cords.

Because of this, anytime Aphelios speaks, you want to fucking listen to him. When he says something, you know it’s something important. He doesn’t waste his voice on just anything. It’s too precious for that.

But lucky you, he never finds talking to you a waste. He loves using what voice he does have to give you all the lovely affirmations/compliments you could ever ask for. He will make sure his love for you is known.

And he doesn’t have to use his voice either. You will absolutely get random texts throughout the day, or find sweet little notes in your pocket/bag. Any card you receive as part of a gift or something just has such sweet words written in it. I can also see Phel leaving notes on your mirror (either in dry erase or on a post-it) to make you smile.

The biggest hype man when you meet your goals/achieve something you’ve been working hard towards. And he’s genuinely excited about it too. He’s really so happy for and proud of you and he makes sure you’re aware of that. Phel always just wants to make you smile and let you know, despite his busy and bizzare schedule, he loves you very much and you’re extremely important to him.

Receiving: Quality time

Aphelios loves when you and him have some alone time together. In the hustle and bustle of being a member of an extremely popular group, his mind can get really chaotic. But then he sees you and it’s like a switch gets flipped.

You calm him down like no one else can. You don’t even have to do or say anything specifically. Phel is a big fan of companionable silence (big same, my guy) and of “being alone together” with you (if that makes sense.) Though of course he is also a big fan of you cuddling him and chatting about whatever.

Sometimes you’ll bring work over to his studio and work on that while he’s writing/recording his compositions. You always make sure to bring snacks/meals and caffeine for him and he always stops to enjoy the food with you and listen as you talk about your day. You’re one of the few people who can easily pull him away from work no matter what.

When both of you get back to work, you may barely say a word to each other, but it doesn’t matter at all.

He’s more productive when you’re with him in his studio and he also takes better care of himself. You’ve received texts from Alune and calls from Yone asking you to just move into his studio permanently. (Of course they’re joking, but they do love the positive influence you have on Aphelios, his music, and his well-being.)

He just loves being in your presence, knowing you could be anywhere in the world if you wanted to be, but here you are, with him, loving him. It makes his heart really happy and light.

Ezreal

Giving: Physical Touch

I feel this is one of the more obvious ones, but Heartsteel Ezreal just gives off the vibes of someone who is very physically affectionate.

That’s not a bad thing. He’s just absolutely the type to come up behind you and give you a hug and nuzzle your neck. This won’t be any surprise though. His love of physical affection is demonstrated early on in your relationship through linked pinkies or a hand always on you in some way.

Dare I say, clingy (in a good way though). He just loves touching you. Doesn’t matter if he’s working, he can get creative. Like he’s absolutely flashed in front of you during a concert to give you a wink and get a high-five. Ezreal loves how pink your cheeks get and how wide you smile at him. (Ideally he’d love to give you more attention but he knows Alune and Yone would kill him if he got too extra.)

You’ve received post-show texts from Kayn that say something along the lines of: “For fuck’s sake, (Y/N), can you please get back here already so your puppy can finally give you the “proper amount of attention” he’s spent the past 15 minutes rambling about? I’m about to tape his mouth shut so I don’t vomit.” (He’s 95% joking. All of Heartsteel loves how happy you make Ezreal, but they can only handle so much post-show adrenaline-filled gushing.)

Him having that physical connection with you is his primary way of letting you know he’s there for you and that you’re important to him. When you’re with him, the two of you are always touching some way some how. As I said, some of his favs are linked hands/fingers. He also loves having his arm(s) around you or his head on your shoulder/lap.

It really doesn’t matter though. All that matters is that he feels you next to him.

Receiving: Words of Affirmation

I feel like Ez is the type of guy who definitely wants to hear you say you love him as often as possible. He will never get tired of hearing you say those words to him.

I do think some of this stems from his past. Having spent time in the public eye for such a long time, and unfortunately being heavily critiqued after he failed to follow up his first solo hit with success, that’s made him doubt himself and his abilities at times.

Imposter syndrome can really be a bitch (I know it well). Unfortunately, it’s made moments in his life difficult, especially since this original scrutiny happened when he was younger, during a critical developmental period for someone growing up. (Ezreal is only in his like early-early mid twenties, y’all. Shit happening during/before that can really leave an impact.)

Hearing you say how proud you are of him, or even if you just compliment him on something small (like the watch he chose to wear for the day or how good his hair looks), well that means everything to him.

You love how his face lights up whenever you compliment him or tell him something sweet. His adorable crooked smile is like concentrated sunshine.

One of your favorite things to do is leave sticky notes on his mirror that just say sweet things like “I love you, Ez!” Or “Looking good, handsome!” He always makes sure to take a selfie with each post it note when you do because he loves seeing them as much as you love putting them up there. It’s your favorite part of the day, getting your daily selfie from him with your note in it.

One time Alune told you the story of how Ezreal turned into a fountain of tears and wouldn’t stop talking about how much he loved you when you had flowers and a really sappy note (detailing how much you love him, how proud you are of him, how you’ve always believed in him/his talent, and thanking him for allowing you the honor to be by his side and support him through this amazing journey) delivered to him before Heartsteel’s first concert. He has the original card framed and he takes a copy of the note with him when he goes on trips. He reads your words before every single performance as part of his pre-show ritual.

Kayn

Giving: Physical Touch (TBH I feel like touch is just very slightly over words of affirmation for Kayn. At least for giving.)

You know what, I think Kayn is similar to Ez a little bit. Just another member who I can see being physically affectionate with his partner.

HOWEVER, I think how Kayn expresses his physical affection is different than Ezreal. Unlike Ezreal who I see as being very overt with physical affection, I see Kayn as someone who is just slightly more low-key.

Now that’s not to say he’s not going to express that in public. He absolutely will. But with Kayn I see more: hand in your back pocket while you’re in line, hand on your thigh if he drives (he’s figured out that’s the only way you’ll tolerate his driving), arm sliding around your waist whenever he steps next to you, hand slowly slipping into yours.

The sort of touches that leave you blushing and biting your lip. The ones that leave you a little breathless. (Not saying Ez can’t do those. I fully believe he can. But there’s just really something about Kayn’s punk/bad boy energy that has me like…😳 and 😏 at the same time.)

He’s a BIG fan of kissing. Like you cannot convince me otherwise. Like yeah his hands can do some of the talking, but kissing you is his favorite way to show he loves you.

(Lord help me I could do a whole headcanon for Kayn kisses alone, I feel like. I have THOUGHTS.) Anytime you want a kiss, you get a kiss, no questions asked. And the way he kisses you indicates a lot for how he’s feeling.

Sleepy Kayn? Forehead, nose, cheek kisses (shhhhhhh he has a soft side. Don’t tell anyone). Needy Kayn? He’s either kissing you completely breathless or he’s leaving hickeys somewhere on you. Otherwise, even if he’s just walking past you to get to another room, he will always stop to give you a kiss hello. And even those sweet quick kisses hello leave you feeling just LOVELY.

Receiving: Words of Affirmation (again I was between this and physical touch, but unlike giving where physical touch wins, I think receiving, words of affirmation win.)

Again, similar to Ez, I think a lot of this stems from his pre-Heartsteel past. Kayn got kicked out of his old band and got a not-great reputation in the media. Like there’s no denying that sucks and that sort of criticism can really fuck with a person’s mind.

So when you compliment him, you say you’re really proud of him, or when you tell him how great he was after a show, he eats that shit up with a SPOON.

And Kayn might try to play it off as not a big deal, but every time you tell him you love him, you can’t help but notice how happy and content he looks. As if all is right with the world. (Listen this might be a tad cheesy but let this rockstar get some genuine fucking love and praise here please.)

I’ve mentioned before in my pet names headcanon (HERE) that I think some pet names really mean something to Kayn. Like when he calls you sexy (ex: “Hey, sexy, how was work?”) it’s his way of affirming to you that he finds you sexy. Same if he calls you beautiful or hottie or whatever.

So when YOU call HIM those sorts of pet names, it means something to him. He takes it as affirmation you still find him to be sexy/handsome/etc… Also let’s be real, the man put in work to get the body he has. You can feed his ego a bit on this.

Another one who secretly keeps any cards or notes you give him. If he’s ever feeling bad about himself or really nervous and he can’t talk to you, he’ll start reading through his stash and it always helps. Knowing you love him and believe in him really shoves the demons away.

Though let’s be real here, nothing compares to hearing you say sweet things to him in person (or over the phone).

K’Sante

(The number of times I changed my mind on his love languages omfg. We’ll talk a little more about receiving first in this one)

Giving and receiving: Words of affirmation

A lot of this has to do with K’Sante’s pre-Heartsteel backstory, as well as his base-lore character. (I know this is for HS K’Sante, but they kept some traits from his base character [The Pride of Nazumah] that I think really feed into this.)

K’Sante is a very proud man. He’s a very ambitious man. It doesn’t matter whether that pertains to music, to fashion, to design, to fitness, etc. whatever he’s doing, he puts his all into it.

And when you put your all into something, naturally there’s some desire for someone to acknowledge the effort you put in, as well as appreciate the result of all that effort. And while he gets that from the fans, the media, other places, none of that approval means more to him than your approval.

He feels your love whenever you tell him how handsome he looks in the new design he brought to life or text him about a photo in the media and compliment him. Whenever you’re the first one to notice when he’s changed his hair. Whenever you cheer him on as he’s doing reps. Whenever you comment on how amazing his part of their new song is.

Hearing/reading (for texts) your pride in, support for, and love for him allows him to stay ambitious and to keep driving for more and he’s so grateful for you. He definitely realizes outside of HS, you are what helps keep things steady.

And while you are super proud of him, he’s ALSO super proud of you and he’s definitely not afraid to let you know that.

I feel like it’s very difficult to have low self-esteem regarding your looks when you’re with him. K’Sante will compliment you out the wazoo. When you look fine he’s making sure you know you look fine (which to him is always). I also feel like he’d use you as a muse for his designs, which is like a massive compliment.

And if you’re nervous about something, K’Sante is such an excellent hype man. He’s reminding you why you are so amazing and that your personal strengths are perfect to get you through whatever is being thrown at you.

Along the same vein, I feel like K’Sante would be the best person to go to for advice. He seems extremely thoughtful with what he says and I feel like he knows exactly what to say to make you feel better about things. (I mean shit we know other members already go to him for advice, he’d absolutely give you, his partner, advice as well.)

And when you achieve something? He is celebrating as much as if he accomplished it himself. He’s very proud of you. “What did I tell you, baby! I knew you could do it!”

Definitely brags about you and your achievements, at least to Heartsteel. He’s just so fucking proud of you and he can’t keep that to himself! That’s a disservice to you! I feel like he’d at least ask and make sure he could tell other people about your achievement though.

(Hehehe this makes me imagine: You know he’s been bragging about you again because you receive random texts from the other members congratulating you on something you’ve recently accomplished.)

This big guy is just a man who really enjoys telling you he loves you (as well as what he loves about you) and loves to hear you say it back (as well as what you love about him).

Sett

Giving and receiving: Acts of Service

A lot of this stems from being raised by a single mother after his father just up and left (shoutout to the single parents out there. Y’all are incredible). Sett would do anything to try and make Ma’s life easier. We know he’s the best cook of the group and I bet he learned how to cook pretty early on.

I imagine Sett also quickly learned sewing and other household tasks for the same reason. It just hurt him to see his mother so damn tired and stressed after working multiple jobs to try and make ends meet. He wanted to do what he could to help. That desire to make things easier for the people he loves hasn��t gone away as he’s grown up. If anything, it’s gotten stronger. (God damn Ma raised him so well 😭.) He shows this type of love in many different forms, starting with simple ways. He’ll always open the door/car door for you. He’ll walk on the side closer to the street. Always offers an arm to you when going down stairs. He’s happy to carry any bags for you.

Of course Sett just as easily does more in-depth acts of service. Mending clothes you love that you thought couldn’t be fixed. (God I love Sett loving to sew.) Happily teaching you to sew when you ask him. Cooking dinner whenever he can (he loves trying out new things, but even more so, he loves showing you the meals of his childhood). Ma always cooks with lots of love and that’s a quality she passed down to her son. He also loves spoiling you through his actions (think surprise bubble baths/face masks/massages/etc.) just because he wants to and he thinks you deserve to be spoiled.

Sett would literally run through a brick wall if it would make your life easier in the short and long run. You make him so happy. He loves you so much and making sure you’re happy and well taken care of is the least he can do, in his mind.

On the receiving end of things, anything you do for him, whether small or big, Sett appreciates more than you know. Whether it’s bandaging his knuckles after a particularly intense bout with a punching bag or making sure his keys and water bottle are in their proper spot by the door so he doesn’t forget them, these seemingly small things mean the world to him.

And when you do “bigger things” like fix his sewing machine that he hasn’t had time to take to the repairman, or reseason his cast-iron cookware? You’ve got Sett ready to propose on the god damn spot. You organized his spare fabric swatches by color and it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen (besides you). He would not stop thanking you for the rest of the week.

When you make dinner and prep a plate for him to heat up once he gets home really late from a long day? It doesn’t matter if he’s the better cook, to him, this is the best meal he’s ever tasted. And when you stay awake late and help him into a warm bath/shower? It’s adorable to see your massive and jacked boyfriend turn into putty under your gentle ministrations. He especially loves when you wash his hair and play with his ears.

Along the same vein, he loves when you come greet him after a bout of boxing with his little medical bag. You always look him over carefully, running a quick concussion check, cleaning anything that needs to be cleaned, and wrapping anything that needs to be wrapped. He’s so appreciative he doesn’t even flinch when you’re cleaning out a cut with antiseptic.

You really know how to love him so well and he’s ready to receive ALL OF IT and love you back the same way.

Yone

Giving and receiving: Acts of service

Yone is another member who I think both gives and receives love the same way and that is through acts of service.

Whenever you bring him a meal or coffee, or just drag him away from his monitors for a brain break, that’s when he feels your love the most. When you bring food he appreciates anything you bring him, but the stuff he finds the most delicious are the things you make yourself. It doesn’t matter if you’re not the best chef.

Something that’s small but he really really loves is when you brush out and braid/play with his hair. Besides a hair stylist, you’re the only one he lets touch his hair.

He knows it’s not easy to love him considering his profession, so the fact you take the time and do these things for him? You take the time to make his life easier? Well it makes him melt tbh. (You are one of the very few lucky souls who gets to see soft Yone. You lucky fucking duck.)

His schedule is wacky, he’s often stressed due to deadlines, and his celebrity status makes date nights or just walking around in public a difficult adventure sometimes.

And because Yone knows being in a relationship with someone of his profession and status is difficult, he really tries to make it up to you and return your acts of service with his own, just to show you you’re always on his mind and that he really he loves you too, even if he can’t always be there to show you.

For example Yone always keeps things neat and tidy (a dream really) and he knows you well enough (I mean duh) that he knows where everything of yours goes, so you’re never shocked when you find your shared bedroom and bathroom perfectly clean and all your things exactly in their spots. You only wonder when he had the time?? (He just chuckles when you ask him.)

Whenever he’s not stuck at work, he’s incredibly sweet and helpful, doing all sorts of little things that just make day-to-day life so much easier.

You wake up after Yone and like coffee? Every morning he makes sure the maker is programmed to have a cup ready for you when you wake up. You cooked? Great! He’s got dishes no problem. You decide to clean a room? He’s either helping you do it or hey, pick any other room for him and he’ll clean that one.

And this doesn’t just stop at like day-to-day living things. If you come home stressed, before you know it you’re sitting in front of him, fresh out a steaming bubble bath, while he massages your shoulders/back and listens to you ramble about what has you so tense. His definition of acts of service definitely include things that spoil you.

Why do I feel like he makes a surprisingly good breakfast? I think he’d enjoy making a whole breakfast in bed meal for you, especially on a birthday or anniversary, but also sometimes just because he wants to surprise you.

Yone’s definitely a gentleman whose actions speak far louder than any words he could ever say.

#heartsteel #heartsteel headcanons #heartsteel x reader #reader insert #heartsteel fluff #headcanon #heartsteel aphelios #heartsteel ezreal #heartsteel kayn #heartsteel k'sante #heartsteel sett #heartsteel yone #I finally got this one done!#This was one of my OG WIPs

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kittyball23 · 4 months

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The Vesting (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: Some years before Branch’s birth, Floyd gets officially inducted as a member of BroZone

A/N: Taking place before TBT

__________________________________________

The room was dark.

Floyd tried squinting, trying to adjust his eyes to make anything out, when all of a sudden, he was blinded by a bright light. He yelped and stepped back a little, the shine of the glowbug that had been lit startling him for just a second as it helped illuminate his surroundings. There, contrasted with the sharp light were his three older brothers standing across from him. John Dory was in the middle, holding the glowbug in his hands right under his face, as though he were holding a flashlight and about to tell a spooky story. Spruce was to his left and Clay was to his right. Floyd in the meantime stood there, uncertain of what was happening.

John Dory narrowed his eyes, and then suddenly began speaking in a deep, mysterious voice.

“We’ve gathered here today to undergo the most revered of ceremonies....”

Then, JD reached into his pocket and thrust a paper into Floyd’s hands. The magenta-haired Trolling, growing even more confused by the minute, gave a meek little “Huh?”

“Go on, read it!” John Dory urged.

Floyd looked down and skimmed through the words first, his brows furrowing. “Is this an oath?”

JD rolled his eyes. “No dude, a BROath,” he corrected.

“Which is pretty much like an oath,” Spruce clarified.

“Only ‘better’!” Clay added, making the word better with airquotes.

“Well it is,” JD said. He nudged Floyd. “Go ahead, dude, read it!”

Floyd shrugged. He may as well. He looked down at the page silently. He was only able to catch the first couple of sentences when the sound of a throat clearing made him stop. Floyd jerked his head up to find JD glaring down at him.

“Out loud.”

Floyd blushed. Whoops. After mumbling an apology, he cleared his throat and, as instructed, began to read the words on the page aloud. Or, as the title at the top was written, the ‘BroZone Credo.’

“’ 1) Family is numero uno. As fun as performing is, I promise to put bros before shows every time. 2) All bros are made equal, but we are not all the same. We have different colors, sizes, shapes and ages. I won’t judge my bro by his taste in music, but by his character. 3) A bro is not afraid to admit when he’s scared. When I am, I promise to confide in my bros and summon the Pop Power of all the brodacious superstars that came before us so that we can use all the love, all the smarts, and all the bravery we got to accomplish the ultimate Family Harmony. 4) All bros can make mistakes. I will admit when I’m wrong and work at it to make things right again. 5) Bros were born to sing. I promise to share my talents with others and not keep them all to myself. To earn my spot – ‘”

“Ooh, wait, wait, wait!” John Dory interrupted, waving his hands. “Stop there for a sec. You gotta raise your right hand now!”

“What?” Floyd shot a glance at Spruce and Clay. In return, they gave him a look that communicated Dude, we did this too. The magenta-haired Trolling shrugged and raised his right hand.

“Okay, good,” JD said. “Now you can keep reading.”

So Floyd did. “’To earn my spot within this band, I solemnly swear to uphold this oath – I mean, BROath – and honor it for the sake of my family.’”

“Forever?” JD asked him.

Floyd looked up from his paper and gave a small nod. “Forever.”

The BroZone leader smiled. “Good.” Then he snapped his fingers. “Spruce! Clay! Grab the item,” he commanded. The purple and yellow Trollings went off, and JD turned his attention to Floyd. “Floyd, arms up and eyes closed!”

By this point in the initiation, Floyd was still a little confused, but he’d learned to just go with it. He did as told (hoping he didn’t look too silly in his T-pose), and waited to see – or rather, hear – what was happening next. He heard some shuffling next to him, and then felt something being placed at his arms. Floyd began to open an eye, hoping to see what was going on, but he instantly shut it again at JD’s shout.

“Hey! No peeking!”

As the something was continued to be adjusted on his arms and then against his body, JD spoke.

“By the totally brodacious power invested in me – with an emphasis on the vest” – he paused to laugh at his own joke (one that Floyd was about to understand in just a few moments) – “I now pronounce you an official member of BroZone!!” He whooped and then clapped his hands. “Alright, now open ‘em up!”

Floyd blinked, and then looked down and gasped. A smile grew on his face as he beheld the elegant, magenta, polyester puffy jacket of a vest that was on him. It was pristine and brand new, fresh and perfectly form-fitting. It went with his hair, as each of his brothers' vests did, and he didn't need a mirror to know that it made him look, as John Dory would put it, totally brodacious! He turned this way and that, appreciating it no matter what angle he viewed it.

“Welcome to the band, little bro!” John Dory exclaimed. Spruce and Clay added in their own “Woo-hoo!”s and “You got it!”s to the chorus.

“Awww, well thanks you guys… thank you so much!” Floyd cooed, beginning to sniffle. The brothers already recognized the signs of oncoming tears, but didn’t badger the little guy about it. Classic Floyd always cried, but he had reason for his happy tears. This was a big moment! Another bro had just joined in on their special pact, and they were going to only continue to live up to their full potential. Before JD could help it, he thrust his hand out in front of him. Spruce recognized the motion and placed his hand on top of his, and then Clay on top of Spruce’s. Last but not least, Floyd still with tear-stained cheeks, placed his hand on Clay’s. They threw their hands up in the air together and chanted out.

“IT’S BRO-TIME!!”

Laughs and brotherly pats on the back followed… as well as an authoritative female voice from just the other room.

“No, it’s BEDtime,” the voice of their Grandma Rosiepuff called out, just before she appeared at the doorway of their room with her arms crossed. “Boys,” she continued, giving them a stern look. “Do you know how late it is?”

Groans came from the Trollings. “But Grandmaaa,” John Dory whined. “We were doing The Vesting!”

Grandma Rosiepuff snickered. She had seen JD do this special little ceremony of his for Spruce and then Clay when they were younger. JD pushed Floyd forward and beamed up at her. “See? Check out how he’s flexin’ the drip now! Pretty sweet, huh?”

Floyd looked up at their grandmother hopefully, his eyes shining. Grandma Rosiepuff smiled down at him. “It is ‘sweet,’ dear,” she said.

Floyd blushed while JD pumped his fists and Spruce and Clay high-fived.

“But do you know what else is ‘sweet’?” Grandma Rosiepuff continued. “Dreams.” She pointed a finger to the beds and the boys sighed, knowing that she was right. One by one, they slipped out of their vests and hung them at their bedposts (Floyd taking one more minute to admire his before he too did as his brothers had), and then they slipped into bed. Grandma Rosiepuff then made her rounds to each brother, helping to tuck them in. When she was finished, she turned off the glowbug and allowed it to flitter out the window.

“Good night,” she whispered to them.

And “G’night!” came the response of the four band members she was proud to call her grandsons.

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #floyd trolls #john dory #spruce trolls #clay trolls #grandma rosiepuff #dreamworks #fanfiction #kittyball writes

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chelseeebe · 1 year

Text

pick a side or i’ll pick you both. (part two)

blood, guts and gore. cheating, smut.. idk what there isn’t in here.

summary: what happens when the hunter becomes the hunted? does anyone make it out of hawkins alive?

a/n: idk if i like this hehe. i’ve also not really read it through bc i detest reading anything i’ve written so excuse any mistakes. i’ve written a small epilogue for this which i’m gonna post separately soon!

taglist: @manyfandomsfanvergent @nope-thanks @secretdryrose @bibieddiesgf @val-writesstuff

part one. | part two. | epilogue.

for a memorial, things were pretty wild. suppose with the whole town still reeling from the murders, it was to be expected that people wanted to let loose.

including steve.

who was sat jabbering on about nancy and the amazing memories he held with jason. utter bullshit. but he was incredibly intoxicated so you’d let him off.

you stay away from the drink, nursing a singular beer all night. too afraid to get drunk and let go of your inhibitions. unsure of what you might let slip.

eddie was at least keeping his part of the deal, sat in the corner with jonathan. feeding him shots and occasionally disappearing to the garden to smoke. you watched on anxiously. getting sly looks from eddie every now and again.

they weren’t exactly telling you much.

he nods towards the stairs, standing up and walking away. you waited a moment before following. fobbing steve off to a member of the basketball team sat next to you.

you have to open every last door and eventually find eddie perched against the sink in the bathroom. gnawing on the skin around his fingernails.

‘finally,’ he remarks, throwing his hands up.

you lock the door behind you and stand opposite him, ‘so? what did he say?’

eddie sighs, finishing off his drink, ‘well, the bad news is that he definitely thinks you had something to do with it.’

‘what?’ you hiss, widening your eyes at how nonchalantly he just said that.

‘but,’ he pauses for dramatic effect, ‘he thinks steve’s involved.. some jealous ex thing, he wasn’t really making sense at this point.’

you exhale, so jonathan doesn’t necessarily think you killed nancy. just that you helped steve do it. which wasn’t really any better.

‘fuck,’ you sigh, rubbing your forehead. where the fuck do you go from here besides the obvious?

‘hey, maybe it’s not all that bad.. he doesn’t think it was you exactly, we could just.. convince him it was someone else?’

‘he thinks it was steve,’ you say pointedly, ‘my boyfriend? the entire reason we started this shit in the first place?’

‘yeah so.. we frame someone else. one last kill.. murder-suicide. someone you really have it in for,’ he shrugs, his calm demeanour was really irking. he should be more scared.

you ponder for a second, you didn’t really hold hate for anyone apart from nancy. well, maybe there was a few people. tommy fucking hagan for one. steve’s desperate best friend who you were sure definitely wanted to fuck your boyfriend.

but why would he murder any of these people?

maybe nancy was some weird homoerotic jealousy thing.. higgins because he always seemed to be in some sort of trouble? leaving jason, who you were sure he’d never even spoken to.

‘i don’t know,’ you shake your head, stuck on where to go from here.

killing jonathan was an option. get rid of him before he could spill anymore of his stupid theory to anybody else. he was the only person that had suspected you.

the police had partially moved on from the school. looking further into the community for answers. grilling innocent people on their whereabouts last week.

someone bangs on the door, screaming about needing the bathroom and interrupts your entire conversation.

you hadn’t thought about how you’d get out of the bathroom with eddie. how strange it looked the two of you being in here alone.

you look up at him and then the window. his eyes follow your gaze and he immediately shakes his head no.

‘no. i’m not jumping out of the fucking window, are you crazy?’

‘what else are you gonna do?’

‘why don’t you go out the window? i was in here first,’ he hushes, the desperate party goer now slamming the door.

‘i’m not going out the window,’ you look around desperately for anyway out of this, ‘get in the bath.’

‘what?’

‘bath,’ drawing back the curtain and gesturing for him to get in.

he scoffs but admits defeat as he climbs into the white tub, it was a hell of a lot better than falling thirty feet to the ground.

you pull the curtain back, hiding him behind the thin plastic. gathering yourself for a moment before opening the door.

the desperate attendee in question is jonathan. looking a pale shade of green and covering his mouth. he doesn’t even acknowledge you before pushing past, hunching over the toilet and emptying his stomach.

god bless eddie who was now guaranteed to be stuck in the bathroom for at least another hour.

it gives you a small giggle as you make your way back to steve. now stood up, wildly gesturing around and still boring the pants off of everyone in the room.

the party had died down in the early hours and you’d managed to get steve to bed. though, it was a struggle carrying him up the stairs. even now he was talking about nancy and jason. you’d wanted to just let him go. let him fall and then maybe he’d shut up about his dead ex.

eddie had escaped back downstairs at some point and had passed out next to robin on the couch, lying over each other in a mess of drunken limbs.

steve falls asleep sprawled over the bed, one arm draped over your waist, rambling about how good you were and that you always do so much for me.

he had no idea.

you hadn’t really been sleeping lately, far too much swirling around your brain to shut it off. horrifying nightmares of the pool of blood surrounding nancy. the gargling sound higgin’s had made as he met his end. the sheer look of terror on jason’s face as eddie had taken his life.

though you must’ve dozed off at some point. being woken by steve’s groaning.

‘hungover?’ you ask, opening one eye to peek at him.

‘you could say that, yeah,’ his voice rough, one arm extending out to pull you closer.

‘you’re lucky i bought you up here.. you’re heavy as shit,’ you chuckle, running your fingers through his messy hair.

this is why you had to do what you did. for moments like these. where it all seemed worth it.

‘mhm thank you,’ he squints at you, a small smile on his face, ‘definitely feel better waking up next to you.’

you return the smile, humming in response.

‘y’know what would make me feel even better?’ he states huskily, moving on top of you, his smile replaced with a little smirk.

‘hmm? what’s that?’ fingers intertwining in his hair, moving your legs for him to slip between.

he responds by kissing your lips. you ignore the smell of alcohol and last nights party, returning the kiss. you two hadn’t had sex since.. well, since before you’d brutally killed his ex girlfriend. not for lack of trying, though.

his hand slides up your thigh, reaching your pajama shorts while his tongue makes its way into your mouth. his fingers toy with the elastic waistband and you move your hips against him, feeling his growing erection.

your shorts are halfway down your legs when the door knocks. eliciting a deep groan from his throat, although he doesn’t pull back in hopes they’d go away.

they don’t. knuckles wrap against the wood once again.

‘what’d you want?’ he hollers, still on top of you, elbows digging into the mattress either side of your shoulders.

the door creaks open and you’re not at all shocked to see eddie stood in the doorframe, ‘we uh- we wanted to make coffee.. couldn’t figure out your machine,’ he utters and you swear you can see the slightest smirk.

steve exhales sharply, ‘seriously?’

‘yeah man.. people are dying down there,’ eddie states, as if it’s the most serious subject in the world.

steve looks back at you, ‘i’ll be two minutes,’ planting one last kiss before rolling off of you with a grumble.

you pull the duvet up, eddie’s gleaming eyes not leaving you once as steve pulls on his discarded jeans from last night.

‘lead the way, coffee man,’ eddie laughs, still looking at you.

steve pushes past him, making his way down the hallway but eddie doesn’t follow. lingering in the doorway with a smug grin on his face.

‘dickhead,’ you mouth, attempting to bore holes in his head with your eyes. he most definitely waited for the perfect moment to come and interrupt. it was kinda his thing.

‘whoops,’ he shrugs, turning to follow steve down into the kitchen.

good god you could’ve slammed his head into the damn doorframe until that stupid look was wiped right off of his face.

you give steve five minutes before huffing and getting out of bed, walking down to the full kitchen. you can vaguely hear robin and steve arguing over something stupid.

eddie clocks you first, eyeing your exposed thighs before meeting your gaze. same sly grin on his face.

you roll your eyes, ignoring his very existence and wrap your arms around steve’s waist, laying your cheek on his spine.

he jumps slightly but quickly realises who the hell is touching him and settles into the embrace, still trying to demonstrate how to use a coffee machine to robin. ignoring the feeling of a certain pair of eyes boring into your back.

you tumbled into the back of his van, suddenly extremely grateful that he’d decided to bring this instead of your moms car. though the risk of being seen in this death trap was much higher.

you’d gone to tommy’s house to try and end this shit tonight. luckily, his bedroom was on the ground floor, there’s be no scaling of any buildings tonight.

it hadn’t particularly gone to plan though. you’d perched on either side of his window for what felt like forever when he stumbled in, carol fucking perkins in tow. of course. shit could never go to plan, could it?

you’d had to call it off. having never tackled a double kill before, you were not going to try tonight. no, it wasn’t worth it. not when all you were doing was trying to end this shit.

you yank the mask off, lifting the black polyester gown over your head, your shirt rising up as it’s launched into the corner. of course he’s watching, desperate for any last slither of skin.

does murder make you horny? was it the fucking mask? is that what this was? a mask kink?

his bottom lip between his teeth was driving you nuts. you wouldn’t ever do this. not normally. but you move over to him on your knees, not bothering to fix your shirt.

he opens his mouth to speak but you interrupt whatever unintelligent spiel he was about to come out with, pressing your lips to his, clambering onto his lap.

his hands immediately find their place on your waist, working on fully removing your shirt. he lifts it up and over your head, resuming the passionate kiss as soon as it reached the dirty van floor.

you waste no time and reach between your bodies, grabbing at his belt buckle and undoing the metal clasp. the kiss messy, full of spit and tongues as you huff, struggling to remove his jeans.

there’s no words spoken, just a silent and slightly aggressive need to get inside of you as quickly as possible. your lacy underwear dragged down your thighs, almost in shreds at the ferocity he’d pulled them down.

your arms hung over his shoulders as he positions himself at the entrance of your throbbing cunt, lowering yourself onto him with a low moan. pausing for a moment to adjust to the fullness.

you don’t wait long before beginning to move, bouncing on top of him, only encouraged by the grunts and filthy words coming out of his mouth. picking up the pace, bare knees scraping against the rough ground of the van.

you throw your head back, whimpering as he begins to buck up into you. his hand slides up from your chest, finding place around your neck, giving it a slight squeeze.

‘holy shit,’ he breathes, your hips clashing against each other as his thrusts get harder, letting him take full control of the situation.

his hand moves down, palming your breast, his teeth almost splitting his bottom lip as he bites down on the skin. deep grunts slipping out of the small gap.

you look back at him, mouth hung open, ‘shit.. i’m gonna..’ the angle hitting perfectly, the denim of his jeans rubbing against your clit at just the right momentum.

‘yeah?’ he barks back, reaching his own climax, thrusts becoming sloppy as your walls clench around him, coming to your own high.

‘fuck,’ you whine, writhing above him, stilling your hips. pausing for a moment to come back to earth. to realise you were in the back of eddie’s old rusted van, his cock still inside of you.

you slide off, perching beside him, scrambling to find your discarded clothes and your long lost sense of dignity.

you pull the strap of your bra back up onto your shoulder, avoiding eddie’s eyes and fumbling for your shirt.

‘that’s not happening again,’ pulling your shirt over your head. it was like an immediate overwhelming feeling of guilt. every time.

‘you said that last time,’ he laughs, sitting back against the inside wall of his van, re-doing his belt.

you glare at him but don’t honour his remark with a response, gathering your things and shoving them into your small bag.

‘that one was all you, remember that,’ he adds, wiping his sweaty face with his t-shirt before pulling it on.

‘maybe if i wasn’t cockblocked, i wouldn’t be so.. frustrated,’ you sneer, crawling over to the double doors.

‘you can just say you want to fuck me.. the world isn’t going to end if you do,’ he shrugs.

‘yours might if you keep speaking like that,’ you warn, going to open the door.

eddie stops you before you can, a hand on your outstretched arm, ‘wait.’

‘what now?’

‘are we really doin’ this with tommy?’ he asks, suddenly completely stoic.

you exhale, ‘i don’t see how else we can end this,’ shrugging, ‘we have to.’

he nods slightly, avoiding your eyes, ‘okay.. as long as you’re sure.’

‘i am,’ you assure, ‘and then we go back to normal.’

since school had been called off for the foreseeable an array of parties had cropped up, including another at steve’s house. you think he just didn’t want to be alone. his parents were on another trip out of town and the house was so big, it’d be stupid not to gather everyone together in his house.

tommy was going to be there. you’d made sure of it with steve, asking under the guise of wanting to know all attendees just in case.

eddie was going to lure him away from the party with promises of a free joint. lucky for you, steve’s house backed onto a large, creepy forest where you’d be waiting, ready to get rid of tommy and dressing him in your murdering costume.

sneaking away from steve would be the hardest part, constantly clutching onto your hand and desperate to not get as drunk as last time in hopes he’d get lucky tonight.

eddie was waiting on your cue, you’d go out first and wait for them both in the forest. everything you needed was hidden out there before the party started.

‘i’m gonna go freshen up and get another drink, i’ll be back,’ you smile at steve, patting his arm and wriggling away from his hold.

‘i’ll come,’ he says, following you in standing up, a quickie in his bathroom would very much suffice.

‘no.. no it’s your party, stay here.. i’ll be five minutes.. ten tops,’ you nod, just praying that he wouldn’t insist.

he doesn’t. thank god. and you slip out of the house through the back door and out of the mossy garden gate, making sure the gaggle of teens in his backyard wouldn’t see you. they were too drunk to even care.

you breathe a sigh of relief when you find the tree you’d stashed everything behind, probably slightly unwise to do this all in the dark.

eddie springs into action the second you’d left, having already been chatting to tommy about the promise of weed, it doesn’t take long to get him to follow.

‘nah, let’s go to the woods.. i don’t want everyone bothering me for freebies y’know?’ eddie coax’s him out of the back garden and further into the forest where you were waiting.

a branch snaps to the left of your hiding spot and you can hear tommy’s irritating voice get louder as they get closer.

as soon as you appear from behind the tree, eddie grabs onto tommy’s arms, holding them in place behind his back.

‘woah woah, what the fuck are you doing?’ tommy scrambles, eyes wide and darting around the darkened forest.

‘oh tommy,’ you coo, walking over to the ginger and shoving the makeshift gag over his mouth, muffling his screams, ‘i wish it didn’t have to be this way.’

you throw the frayed rope to eddie and he wraps it around tommy’s wrists, tying it in what you hope is a tight knot. you’d known that realistically eddie couldn’t overpower tommy for long and as soon as the adrenaline hit, he’d be fighting back stronger.

eddie kicks the back of his knee and he falls down onto the ground, kicking his feet in the dirt, trying with all his might to get free from the ties.

eddie was hyper aware of your decision not to use the mask, the party continuing somewhere in the background, ‘we need to be quick,’ he presses, gritting his teeth as tommy thrashes around beneath him.

‘i am,’ you glare at him.

see, the plan was to frame tommy. make out that he’d dragged you into the forest. attacked you first. you’d just acted in self defence and got him before he could get you. even prepared to sustain a few injuries for good measure.

tommy shakes his head desperately, looking up at you with tearful eyes, the knife reflecting off his glossy eyes. he looked utterly pathetic and you’d wondered how many poor people he’d instilled this level of terror in.

tommy was an asshole, through and through. a real bully. and you’d detested the fact steve was still friends with him. even if it was because they’d been friends for so long as steve tried to tell you.

‘it’s not nice being on the receiving end now, is it?’ you poke him with the sharp knife, bent down to his level.

no no. he incoherently mumbles through the gag. he’d seemed to calm down slightly, maybe convincing himself that you were playing some cruel joke on him and he wasn’t actually about to die.

‘it’s a shame, really,’ you pout at him, ‘steve really likes you.. god knows why, i bet he’ll be really sad that you’re gone.. oh well.’

tommy’s breathing is laboured, sweat pouring from his forehead and you step between his legs, gripping onto the handle of the knife.

maybe that was a mistake as his legs clamp together, trapping yours in between his causing you to topple down onto him. cursing as you hit the ground, the knife falling somewhere in the dust.

‘shit,’ eddie hisses, stumbling to find the knife as tommy writhes around, trying to grip onto something, anything that’ll help him.

you get your bearings again, standing up and placing a foot on tommy’s back as he attempts to army crawl away from you.

‘you fucking idiot,’ you say through gritted teeth, eddie finds the knife amongst the leaves and hands it back to you, cussing at tommy for making him crawl around in the dirt.

you plunge the knife into his back, blood immediately soaking through his t-shirt as his arms flap around. a muted scream escapes the gag and you twist the knife slightly before removing it from the wound.

for good measure, eddie gives him a swift kick to the ribs, stopping any attempt at getting back up. you stab him again, this time in the side as if it was a desperate attempt to get him off of you in the pretend struggle.

he groans, head dropping to the floor, eyes drooping as he fights the imminent death. the blood seeps into the ground, colouring the dried autumn leaves a shade of red.

you watch as his movements get slower, weak attempts at shouting for help in his final breaths. until they stop. and he lays lifeless on the mud in front of you.

you swallow before looking at eddie who had that psychotic look on his face. it should’ve scared you, his eyes glinting with pure evil intentions. but it doesn’t. you know exactly how he felt. the euphoric feeling coursing through your veins.

you can feel your heartbeat in your throat. when his eyes meet yours, that familiar feeling throbs in your stomach. were you turned on by this? or was it just a need to excrete the energy that had built up inside?

you’re quickly snapped out of whatever weird trance you’re in when the party’s music stops and calls of your name ring out in the back yard.

shit. steve was definitely wondering where the fuck you’d gone. tommy had taken slightly longer than anticipated to get rid of.

you push the knife into eddie’s hand, ‘cut me,’ offering your arms to him.

‘no, what the fuck?’

‘eddie it has to look like a fight, cut me!’ you insist, almost grabbing the knife and doing it yourself.

he hesitates, ‘shit shit shit,’ he exclaims, lifting the knife to your arm.

‘do it!’

he does, sliding the knife across your arms and slashing the skin, drawing blood instantaneously.

you bite down on your lip, humming at the searing pain but urging him to continue. gesturing to your midriff area, blood dripping from your arms.

he glances at you quickly before pulling the knife across the skin, cutting open your shirt in the process. you nod over to tommy, if he was found tied up and gagged, you’d have another problem on your hands.

eddie saws off the rope, stuffing it into his jacket pocket alongside the gag. it had been planned meticulously you see, eddie was going to hand you off to whoever you saw first in the garden, rush off to ‘call the police’ and rid himself of any evidence in his van. everybody too preoccupied with your wounds to notice him disappear.

the police would come and you’d put your sixth grade drama classes to good use, telling them that tommy had pulled you out into the woods and just went crazy, slashing and stabbing at you. but oh no he’d dropped the knife and in your desperate attempt to survive you’d picked it up and stabbed him instead.

you were sure you could improvise if it really came down to it. it wasn’t like you weren’t actually in pain, the gash on your stomach stinging as the hem of your shirt rubbed against it.

eddie throws his arm around your waist, walking back to the now quiet party, ‘so i just.. found you out here, right?’

‘right,’ you breathe, gripping onto his denim jacket and preparing for the performance of a lifetime, ‘you were getting some fresh air.. heard a scream and found me.’

you near the gate and turn to nod at eddie, pulling your best in pain face as he swings open the gate. horrified party goers turn towards you, mouths wide at your gushing wounds.

you can vaguely see steve pushing through the crowd, sprinting over to take you from eddie’s hold.

‘what- what happened? what did you do?’ steve shouts, taking ahold of your arm and slinging it over his shoulder.

‘i-i didn’t do anything.. she was just out there like that.. i don’t know,’ eddie stutters, looking at you to back him.

‘it wasn’t.. it wasn’t eddie, steve.. tommy,’ you nod, putting on your best terrified face, clinging onto steve’s shirt as he sits you down on one of the garden chairs.

‘tommy? what are you saying?’ his eyes go wide at the accusation, crouching down to your level, keeping one hand pressed to the gash on your stomach.

it wasn’t really deep enough to cause any serious problems but christ was there a lot of blood.

‘he.. told me to follow him.. that you were out there, so- so i did.. and then.. there was a knife..’ you trail off, looking down at your wounds, hands beginning to shake.

you were really selling it, god, if this shit was a movie you’d for sure be owed a few awards for this performance. it was easy to cry seeing as eddie’s knife work actually was pretty painful. burning as the blood leaked into your clothes and onto steve’s hand.

it was the longest night of your life. spending hours at the hospital patching you up and making sure there were no internal injuries. and then carted off to the police station the second the nurse had okayed you going home.

steve followed along, waiting on the uncomfortable chairs as you re-told your story for the umpteenth time. ensuring that every detail was the same as the last time you told it. occasionally letting a few tears fall but putting on your best brave face so the officers take pity on you.

they do eventually. telling you that you’re so incredibly strong and they’ll be in contact soon about how they’re proceeding with this all. it worked though. they’d bought your story and you could get back to some sort of normality.

just this time without nancy or tommy fucking hagan trying to interject themselves in your relationship. the thought of having steve to yourself, finally, was enough motivation to sell this damn story and get it done with.

you hadn’t really thought about the implications of being the one to finally catch and kill the ‘infamous hawkin’s killer’. turns out just about everyone in the town now worshipped you. you were practically famous.

kids at school would come to you in the hallways, giving their sorry’s and telling you just how heroic you were.

it was sort of nice. well, after pushing aside the burning guilt inside of you.

you couldn’t fester on it too much though. what was the point? even if you did come clean at this point, who would’ve believed you? it was over. no reason to live in the past. it’s not like you could bring anyone back to life, so why not enjoy the glory?

steve was very clearly also enjoying the second-hand fame, making a point to throw his arm around you in the hallway and making sure everyone knew that you two were together.

in the whirlwind of shit you’d kind of neglected everyone else. especially eddie. though, you were kinda glad that part of it was over. you didn’t need to be reminded of the shit you’d done every time you saw dark curly hair. about what you’d done together.

he bounded up to you one day at school, ‘i need to talk to you,’ his voice hushed, hand gingerly grabbing your arm.

‘i’m kinda busy right now eddie,’ you reply, grabbing your books from your locker, trying your hardest not to look at him.

‘it’s important,’ he dips his head, ‘it’s about.. you know..’

‘well then it’s not important,’ you bit back, slamming your locker shut.

‘please.. i-i don’t know what to do,’ he pressed, desperate to get you to listen.

‘find me at lunch or something.. i’ve gotta go,’ you walked off, finding steve who was waiting for you up ahead, disregarding whatever eddie was talking about immediately.

it didn’t matter now.

‘steve?’ you call out. if his parents car wasn’t there, which was rarely, you’d just walk in. he’d get you your own key if he could.

you’d move in if it were up to you. since everything had died down a tad, you’d been closer than ever. exactly why you’d done everything in the first place. it was perfect.

there’s no response, which is odd. his car was outside and the door was unlocked. usually he’d come bounding downstairs at the sound of the door closing. nothing.

you pull a face and swing round into the kitchen, wondering if he’d just not heard you. nope. empty.

‘steve?’ you ask again, met with the exact same silence as before.

‘if you’re playing some prank on me, i will punch you,’ you warn, beginning to climb the stairs.

still nothing.

his bedroom door was closed which was also usual if his parents weren’t home but maybe he’d fallen asleep after basketball and couldn’t hear you.

you twist the handle, slowly opening the door so that you could scare him.

you’re met with the image of steve’s limp body bundled into the corner, head hanging down to his chest. your stomach flips, not knowing if he was even still alive.

‘he’s not dead, don’t worry,’ eddie’s voice calls out, appearing from behind the en-suite door.

your eyes widen at the sight of him. what the fuck had he done?

‘eddie.. what the fuck? what have you done?’ you manage to croak out, slowly moving towards steve’s body.

‘i wouldn’t if i were you,’ he comes further out of the bathroom, knife in hand, pointing the sharp edge at you.

you stop dead, holding a hand out as if to offer peace, ‘what do you want?’ you breathe, chest heaving.

he flicks the knife at the bed, gesturing for you to sit down, ‘i’ll explain.. you should sit though.’

you oblige, sitting gingerly on the edge of the mattress, flitting between steve and eddie who was now making his way to you.

‘i-i don’t understand.. what’s going on?’ you blink, trying to hide the tears forming in your eyes.

‘well.. as i’ve been trying to tell you for the past month, the cops found my dna on that knife you used to kill mr. hagan.. had my shit on file from some stupid drug charge last year,’ the corners of his mouth curled into a small grin.

‘wh-what?’

‘oh yeah,’ he nods, now towering above you, ‘haven’t left me alone since.. see, at the school, that shithead janitor saw two people running away from the crime scene and they’ve come to the conclusion that i must be involved. i mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it?’ his eyes are dark, menacing.

you’d never been scared of him before. not even when he’d spilled jason’s guts in front of you. but he genuinely terrifying now. as if he was possessed.

‘eddie.. i didn’t- i’m sorry, we can fix this,’ you nod, a desperate attempt to reassure him, ‘hawkin’s police are fucking stupid.. we, we can come up with some story.. i’ll help you.’

‘yeah, you will,’ he laughs and it sounds demonic, nothing like him, ‘see i’m pretty much fucked.. so i had a thought,’ the knife flings around in his hand, still aimed toward you, ‘wouldn’t it be just so killer, heh.. ya’ see what i did there, if mr. ghostface’s final kill was the queen of hawkins.. the invincible girl, no longer invincible.’

your lower lip begins to quiver, tears welling in your eyes. if you weren’t in this predicament you’d throw up. finally understand the terror you’d inflicted on so many people.

‘you don’t have to do this.. there’s still a way out.. for both of us,’ you swallow, trembling as he is mere inches away from you.

‘oh but i do,’ the cold metal of the knife meets your cheek, stinging as the tears inadvertently roll down your face, ‘it was you who dragged me into this fucking mess and just left me to catch the blame on my own.. you don’t get to live if i’m going down.’

you can’t see him clearly at this point, a blurry vision of dark hair and evil, menacing eyes.

you’re angry. angry at yourself for getting into this situation. angry for ever trusting eddie fucking munson. it’s like a fire rising from your stomach. the same rage you felt as nancy begged for her life.

‘i was gonna make him watch,’ he nods his head towards steve, ‘but i don’t think he’ll be waking up anytime soon,’ a roar erupts from his stomach, a psychotic laugh as the knife runs down your cheek surely drawing blood.

‘please,’ you plead, trying one last time to make him listen, just let you go and it could all be forgotten about.

‘n’aww, it’s kinda pathetic that you, of all people are begging for me to save you,’ he laughs again, moving the blade to your exposed neck.

your face scrunches in anger and the back of your forearm comes up to knock the knife out of his hand. it clatters to the floor and you take the opportunity to stand, barging past eddie and going straight for the door.

‘you bitch,’ he spits, jumping up and just about managing to grab onto your sleeve, jerking your back towards him.

his fingers dig into your arm, spinning you around to face him. a ferocity on his face that you hadn’t seen before. he wasn’t even this angry with jason.

his free hand comes up, landing a solid backhanded shot at your face. knocking the wind out of your stomach. you stumble for a moment, trying to ignore the pulsing pain in your head.

in the chaos, you trip over steve’s extended foot, landing on his carpet with a thud. eddie takes advantage of the higher ground, shoving you over fully. dropping to his knees, placing them either side of your rib cage, his full weight on top of you.

you struggle to regain your breath, balling his t-shirt in your fist, mouth wide as your lungs refuse to fill back up.

‘eddie..’ you manage to gasp out, voice hoarse. a desperate plea.

he scoffs, ‘it’s too late.. i can’t help you now,’ his hands come up to your neck, aggressively pressing down against your trachea, knocking any last air from your throat.

his hands tighten. his breathing heavy as your vision goes black from the lack of oxygen. your nails dig into his wrist in a last ditch attempt to get him off of you.

‘this could’ve all been so easy.. this is your fault,’ he frowns, staring down at you as your legs kick out beneath him, ‘i did this.. for you,’ he’s panting as if he was the one being strangled to fucking death.

the fuzzy feeling in your head started to feel good, like there was no point in fighting this anymore. it was almost calming. warm and welcoming.

your eyes close fully, surrounded by darkness and that uncertain feeling of what was to come next. this was it. this was your karma. it was deserved. you’d taken so much from other people, now it was your turn.

eddie’s body is thrown off of you, a jumble of voices invade the room but you’re too weak to even open your eyes. falling into what you assume was a certain death.

well, you weren’t dead. the bright white lights pretty much solidified that fact when you opened your eyes. you knew damn well that there were no pearly gates waiting for you on the other side.

you blink, unsure of what you were even looking at. the beeping sound confirms that you were in hospital, the sterile smell filling your nose as you come around.

two heads appear above you, though you can’t fully make out who the fuck it is.

‘ma’am?’ one of the heads calls out, his voice ringing in your ears.

your mouth tastes like metal. dry and gross. it makes you want to barf.

‘ma’am..’ he says, more certain this time, ‘we’d like to ask you some questions about your involvement with an edward munson?’

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