#i thought to be the odds of someone liking me.

[girlgenius1111]

wise beyond her years

sol meets someone, and it's doomed from the start. everyone can see it, except her. ingrid tries to balance being supportive and being... a parent?

based [ish] on the manuscript by taylor swift... mostly the lyrics "afterwards she only ate kids cereal and couldn't sleep unless it was in her mother's bed"

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You met her at one of Ingrid’s games. Mapi had gone down to the locker room at halftime, and you’d been content to sit in your seat and scroll through your phone until the team made their way back out. That was, until she slid into the seat next to you and introduced herself. 

Camila. She was a bit taller than you, the epitome of Spanish beauty. She spoke English with an adorable accent, and when you looked into her eyes for the first time, you were almost speechless. She looked to be a bit older than you. Maybe around Ingrid’s age. 

You should have known better. You should have thought about how odd it was that she’d been sitting a few rows up and only came to talk to you when you were alone. How those first few dates she took you on always ended with her getting you to invite her to the next Barça game. 

It was so easy for her. You were… healing. That didn't mean that you were healed. Freud would have rolled in his grave at how oblivious you were. Dating an older woman. Only a month or so after a huge fallout with your mother. Letting her talk you into things you weren’t quite sure about. Let her talk her way into your heart, making promises and declarations of love that came much too soon. 

She said that she loved you. And it wasn’t that you believed her, not really. You just thought that if you tried hard enough to be perfect, one day she would love you.

------

Ingrid had made her displeasure with Camila known to you from the beginning. She knew exactly what the woman was up to, it was obvious to everyone but you. She was using you because you were an easy target, and you were vulnerable and young and excited that someone was paying attention to you. 

You wouldn’t listen to Ingrid, though. Not when she warned you nicely about Camila, or when she warned you much more seriously. You ignored her words completely, dismissed them. And Ingrid didn’t want to fight with you, but she couldn’t hold back her feelings about this woman that had slipped into your life, so poor Mapi bore the brunt of the Norwegian’s rants about how Camila was not good enough for her Solstråle. 

This was the case today. You were off with Camila, and Ingrid was going crazy back home. It had been weeks, and this was still going on. The worry and concern your sister had for you was at a high, it was all she could think about. Mapi felt similarly, but she tried to keep her cool because she knew very well that telling you not to date the woman would only make you want to date her more. 

“She’s going to get hurt.” Ingrid said. 

“She might. That’s how she learns, though, mi amor. We have to let her make her own mistakes.” 

“Did you read that in your parenting book?” Ingrid asked with a slight smirk. 

Mapi flushed red, avoiding her girlfriend’s gaze. “It is not a parenting book. It is a… helping sad teens book.” She argued. 

Ingrid softened. “María, don’t be embarrassed. Getting a book to learn how to help Solstråle better… that is sweet and thoughtful. Just like you.” 

Now, Mapi was blushing again, but this time a small smile adorned her features, though worry was still clouding her eyes. “Are you sure it’s okay? I know she’s your sister, and I do not want to overstep.” 

Ingrid just shook her head. “No, you are not overstepping. I couldn’t do this without you, María, and I mean that. You balance me out. I was worried, for a while, about being too much like my mother. You’d never let that happen, though, and it’s like a safety net. I don’t need to worry as much about making a mistake because you’re always there to tell me when I’m not doing the right thing. And you don’t have to be, but you are. I don’t thank you enough for that, my love. I don’t tell you enough, how incredible you are,  for being so full of love, and so happy to share it with everyone you meet.” 

“I love you.” María whispered back. “I love you, and I love mi sol, and I tolerate her dog, but I love our family. Sol is a special kid and… I don’t know. I just want you both to be happy. I want you both to feel loved and worthy of love because you are.” 

Ingrid isn’t quite sure how this conversation about your ‘girlfriend’ had led to this incredibly mushy conversation, but she pulled Mapi into her and squeezed tightly. “ Don’t make me cry, Solstråle will be home soon and she’ll make fun of me.”

Mapi laughed loudly, quickly wiping a tear off Ingrid’s cheek as the front door opened, announcing your arrival home. When you walked into the living room, it was to see Mapi and Ingrid curled up together on the couch, which wasn’t an unusual sight. Nor was the way they were looking at each other unusual, either. Like seeing the other person smile could sustain the other for days. Ingrid and Mapi loved each other so deeply, and so easily, it was clear for anyone to see. 

You wanted that, you really did. And you thought you had it where you definitely didn’t. You’d have it one day, though. Something told you that. 

-------

You weren’t sitting with Mapi at the match today. Camila had wanted it to be a real date, and not be supervised by your sister’s girlfriend, though she still wanted to attend the match. You’d been excited about it, even though you’d spent most of your free time with her in the past couple weeks. Well, excited until she’d disappeared right before kick off to get you both waters, and had been gone for 20 minutes. 

You were really just worried that something had happened to slow her down, so you got up when an opposing player went down and headed off in search of her. 

You found her pretty easily, leaning against a wall by the bathroom, talking to a girl. A girl that looked to be about your age, that looked just like you in fact. You tried not to jump to conclusions as you froze, watching carefully from a few meters away. It was obvious, though, what was going on. Even more obvious when Camila reached out and tucked a piece of the girl’s hair behind her ear.

 It wasn’t immediately clear to you what to do. You knew you should be angry, but really all you felt was hurt. Before Camila could spot you, you headed back to your seat, and when Camila returned a few minutes later, you did what you were used to. You shut down. You answered her questions with shrugs or nods, even when she started to get annoyed that you weren’t speaking. 

You wanted to talk to Frido. Not Ingrid or Mapi, because they’d freak out. Mapi would get all weirdly protective and huffy, and Ingrid would just be furious that you hadn’t listened to her. Frido would listen to you, and tell you what to do. You couldn’t get to the Swede, though, not without seeing your sister and her girlfriend. And by the time the final whistle blew, Camila’s anger was simmering under the surface, and she practically dragged you from the stadium. You quickly texted Mapi, telling her you were leaving with Camila, before your girlfriend pushed you into the car and all but slammed the door. You winced at the sound, knowing that you shouldn’t feel guilty for how you were acting. Camila should be the one feeling bad, but you couldn’t help the nagging feeling to just apologize and let it go. 

It was like the old version of you and the newer version were fighting. Was this how you deserved to be treated? Had Camila really done anything wrong? Your brain was a mess, and as Camila pulled the car out of the parking spot, and began to drive, you decided that you just needed some space to think. 

“Can you take me home?” You asked quietly, looking at your girlfriend out of the corner of your eye. She seemed to relax a bit, now that you’d spoken. Camila didn’t look as angry anymore. Just worried. 

“Is everything okay? You’ve gone silent on me.” Camila asked gently. Or, at least, it sounded gentle. She was giving you a kind, concerned smile but there was a look in her eyes that made you kind of uneasy. You ignored it, focusing on the softness, letting yourself be lulled into a false sense of security. You told yourself to be honest, that it was probably just a misunderstanding. That Camila would make you feel better about it, explain it all away. And everything would go back to normal. 

“I just… I saw you talking to that girl by the bathroom. It looked kind of cozy.” You said cautiously. The car came upon an intersection, a red light, and Camila came to a stop before she looked over at you. The concern was gone from her face. The softness nowhere to be found. She just looked furious at you. 

“Did you follow me to the bathroom for a reason?” She asked venomously. 

You shook your head, surprised at the turn this conversation had taken. “No, no, you were gone for a while, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

Camila rolled her eyes as the light turned green, looking away from you and at the road. “Sure. I was just saying hi to an old friend. There’s no need to get all jealous.” 

“I’m not jealous.” You replied, sitting up straighter in your seat, a bit of anger flaring in you. Anger you hadn’t felt in a while, but a feeling that still filled your veins with fire. “I just wanted to know why you were flirting with someone while we were on a date.” 

Camila scoffed. “I was not flirting. I told you it was an old friend. I barely talked to her, what are you being so dramatic about?” 

“I really don’t think I’m being dramatic. I just asked you a question.” You said, trying to remain calm even as your girlfriend got angrier and angrier next to you. 

“No, you acted like a child. Going completely silent and ruining our date? I know you’re young, but I expected you to act like an adult and be more mature than that. It’s honestly embarrassing.” 

You felt your cheeks burn, and you chewed on your lip for a minute, trying not to say anything you’d regret. “I asked you a question, and you just keep deflecting. I don’t think I am being the childish one.” 

“Is this the mommy issues or something?” Camila asked, a cruel smile playing on her lips. You sat silent for a moment, not completely sure you’d heard her correctly. 

“Excuse me?” 

“The jealousy, the insecurity? I know your mom fucked you up, but this is ridiculous. We’ve only been together for a few weeks, why are you being so clingy? It’s fucking annoying, and I’ll tell you right now, no one on earth is going to want to put up with this. Especially not from you, it’s not worth it.” 

You blinked, completely shocked. You hadn’t expected her to get so angry when you’d been honest about your insecurity and worry. And you hadn’t expected her to throw things that you’d told her in a moment of vulnerability in your face either. “Are you serious?” You asked, voice cracking slightly. 

Camila let out a humorless laugh, parking the car in front of the cafe you were supposed to be going to. “Are you going to cry now?” She asked mockingly. “Christ, you really are too young. I don’t want to date someone this immature.”

You stared at her, feeling like you had whiplash from the turn this conversation had taken. It seemed like she was breaking up with you. Which was probably for the best, if this was how she reacted to you bringing up an issue with her. Still, it was like you were seeing a side of her you’d never seen before. Cold. Cruel. She looked completely unbothered as she unlocked the car doors and gave you a pointed look, one that clearly told you that this conversation was over. 

She looked unbothered, and you felt  your heart shatter as your biggest fear was coming true. You were too much. It had only taken Camila weeks to get tired of you. Hot tears fell down your cheeks, ones you desperately tried to hide. You were sad and embarrassed, but most of all. You just felt so hopeless. 

As you got out of the car, without another word said to your now ex-girlfriend, you wondered how you could have been so naive to think that someone would want you. Camila was right. You were too screwed up for anyone to choose you. 

You walked right into the cafe, making a beeline for the bathroom. Locking and shutting the door behind you, the last of your resolve broke, and you worked hard to quiet the broken sobs falling from your lips. 

Stupid. You’d been so stupid. It wasn’t the first time someone had broken your trust, or said something awful to you. But it was the first time since… things had changed. And somehow, you’d forgotten how much it hurt, feeling unwanted. You had been used to it, before, numb to it. Now, though, it burned sharp in your chest. Shame and sadness and anger and frustration. And still. That persistent feeling of hopelessness. How was anyone ever supposed to want you?

-------

Mapi had a weird feeling when you called. Your text after the match had sounded odd, and you were supposed to be getting coffee with Camila. She didn’t really have any other reason to be worried, but for some reason, she was. 

“Maps?” You greeted quietly. You called Mapi on purpose. She worried less than Ingrid, and while she disapproved of Camila, she had been pretending that she didn’t. Mapi was more likely to be willing to come and get you. Ingrid, on the other hand, you assumed would be too angry that you hadn’t listened to her. Too vindicated, and too caught up in being right to comfort you. 

“Hey, nena. What’s up?” Mapi asked. 

“Can you come get me?” You mumbled, the embarrassment of the situation really hitting you full force. 

“Send me your location, I’m on my way.” Mapi replied instantly, and you really appreciated that she didn’t try to get any details out of you, was just focused on getting to you as fast as possible. 

“Can you bring Scout?” You asked after a moment’s hesitation, knowing how Mapi felt about bringing the dog in the car with her. The simple question sent another wave of worry through the Spaniard’s body, knowing you really only asked for something you needed when… you really needed it. 

“Of course. Do you want to stay on the phone with me?” Mapi asked, rushing to grab her keys, ignoring the questioning look Ingrid was giving her from the couch, having woken up from a nap. 

“No, it’s okay. I’ll see you soon.” 

“Okay, mi sol. I love you.” 

“Love you too.” You whispered, choking back a sob as you hung up. 

“What is it? Where is she? Is she okay? Did something happen?” Ingrid asked rapidly, moving to get up from the couch. 

“Scout! Ven aqui!” Mapi called, rolling her eyes when the dog appeared instantly, as if he knew the reason for being summoned. “I don’t know, she just asked me to come get her. Don’t get up. Stay here, rest. I’ll get pequeña.” 

“But-” 

“No buts, princesa. Stay here. I’ve got this covered, we’ll be back soon. Don’t move from this couch, I mean it.” Mapi insisted, never one to take Ingrid’s recovery casually. 

Ingrid frowned but sat back down on the couch, watching as her girlfriend and your dog disappeared out the front door, both of them moving like they were on a mission. If there was one thing Mapi could agree with Scout on, it was that you were very important.

-------

When Mapi pulled up in front of the cafe, she saw you sitting with a to-go cup of coffee at a little table, staring at the ground. She parked quickly, finding a spot just around the corner,  before she got out to walk over to you, bringing Scout with her. Scout pulled harshly on his leash, and for once, Mapi didn’t mind. 

“Solstråle?” Mapi called when she got close enough, seeing your head whip up to look in the direction of your name. In a flash, you were abandoning your coffee and all but launching yourself towards Mapi. The Spaniard didn’t say anything, not quite sure what had happened but able to infer that it wasn’t good. 

“Thanks for coming so fast.” You said quietly, feeling just marginally better now that Mapi had pulled you into a tight hug. Scout nudged your leg with his nose rather insistently, until you pulled away from the hug and crouched down to pet him. 

“Of course, mi sol. I’ll always come for you. Did something happen?” Mapi asked, never not amazed by the way Scout instantly brought a small smile to your face, even if your eyes were still slightly wet with tears. 

“We broke up.” You said simply, though your voice cracked over the last word. 

“Oh, nena. I’m so sorry.” Mapi sighed. “Let's get you home, yeah?” 

“Okay.” You agreed, although you really weren’t looking forward to it. You wanted to go home, curl up into a ball and cry, by yourself. At the same time, you desperately wanted a hug from your sister. You were just completely convinced that she wouldn’t be willing to do that. 

-------

You walked into the house just behind Mapi, trying to take deep, steadying breaths. You were close to breaking down, and you didn’t really need to hear all the reasons that Ingrid had known this would happen. You didn’t need an ‘I told you so.’ 

Your sister was waiting for you in the entrance hall, pacing nervously, when you walked in. 

“Solstråle! What happened? Are you okay?” Ingrid asked as soon as you were through the door, ignoring Mapi’s look that was clearly telling her to be cool. 

“It’s fine, I’m fine. I want to be alone.” You said, pushing past her to head for the stairs. You heard Ingrid begin to go after you, but Mapi stopped her, telling her to give you a minute. 

-------

You collapsed onto your bed, Scout jumping up next to you like he thought it was a game. You just wished it would just swallow you up. It was only a few minutes later that you heard footsteps approaching your door, like you knew they would. A soft knock on your door interrupted your crying, and you hastily wiped at your eyes. “Yeah?”

Ingrid peaked her head in. “I know you said you want to be alone, but I just wanted to check…” she said, trailing off when she saw you valiantly fighting your tears. 

“I’m okay.” You mumbled, focusing on petting Scout, as opposed to looking at your sister. 

“Honey, you aren’t.” Ingrid sighed, moving in closer to take a seat on the edge of your bed. “You’re upset, that’s okay. You don’t need to be embarrassed.” 

“Well, I am. You were right. Is that what you wanted to hear?” You asked bitingly, not really intending to snap so harshly at your sister, but not quite sure you felt like you could trust her at the moment. 

“No, sweetheart, that is not what I wanted to hear. I wanted to be wrong about her, solstråle, more than anything. I am so sorry things didn’t end well.” 

“You aren’t glad that you’re right?” You asked, astonished. It didn't really make sense to you; all of this could have been avoided if you’d just listened to your sister. How could she be sorry for you when you’d blatantly ignored her advice? 

Ingrid shook her head, her face painfully full of pity and sympathy. “No, not if it means that you’re hurting.” 

“Oh.” You weren’t quite sure what to do with that. You’d been prepared to deal with this yourself. To be completely honest, you didn’t really feel like you deserved Ingrid’s support. You’d been so stupid not to listen to her. This was all your fault, really, and Ingrid shouldn’t have to deal with implications of something that was ultimately your mistake. “I’m sorry, I should have listened.” You said quietly, looking down, refusing to make eye contact with your sister. 

“Don’t be sorry, solstråle.” Ingrid sighed. You looked so distraught, but you were leaning slightly away from your sister, like you were afraid to accept any comfort from her. Like suddenly, you weren’t sure you trusted her anymore. And though that hurt, Ingrid really couldn’t blame you. Not when the universe seemed so dead set on making you miserable. “What can I do?” 

“I just want to be alone.” You mumbled, wrapping your arms around yourself, completely invalidating your statement. 

“No, you don’t. Look at me.” Ingrid instructed, waiting until you raised your head to look at her, very cautiously. “You’re allowed to be sad about this. No matter what happened, no matter what I said about her before. I never want to see you hurting. You don’t have to deal with this alone just because you made a mistake. Okay?” 

You held your sister’s gaze for a few moments, before you slowly nodded your head. “I really liked her.” You whispered after a minute, leaning almost imperceptibly towards your sister. 

“I know. Come here, honey,” Ingrid said, opening her arms for you to all but collapse into them. It was familiar, at this point, being held tightly in Ingrid’s arms. It never failed to make you feel better. And while Ingrid wished that things would just be easier for you, a very critical part of herself settled when you relaxed against her. The brunette was never quite sure she was doing a good enough job with you, but when you went to her when you were upset, allowed her to help you, even if it was rather hesitantly, it felt reassuring to her. It wasn’t full trust, but you were getting there. She must be doing something right if you were making progress. 

“What would make you feel better?” Ingrid asked after a minute, smiling to herself at how Scout had settled himself with half his upper body draped across your legs. 

“Nothing.” You replied pathetically. It wasn’t the first relationship you’d had, but it felt so much more significant than any of the others had. In just a few weeks, Camila had made herself one of the most important things in your life. You weren’t really sure how she managed it, but somehow, she’d gotten you to confess things you’d told very few people, learned more about you than many people did. And as soon as things had started to not go her way, she’d used all those things against you. It was the first time in a while that you’d really let yourself be fully vulnerable with someone, and it had backfired so horrifically. You were hurt, and you were embarrassed, but most of all, you were just sad. 

You thought this was going to be a turning point for you, but you didn’t realize you’d given Camila all of the ammunition she’d needed to make sure it was the biggest setback you’d face. Not until you were lying in your bed, wanting nothing more than to disappear. You’d been nothing to her. That was a familiar feeling, something that made every cell in your body squirm with anxiety. It was happening again. 

“What are you thinking?” Ingrid asked, interrupting your rapid stream of thoughts. 

“Is it me? Do I just… make people want to treat me badly?” You asked. It wasn’t the first time you’d considered it, but that particular fear had been dormant since everything had happened in the last few weeks. Since Ingrid and Mapi had made it clear that they wanted you here with them. It was confusing and completely contradictory, your brain couldn’t really make sense of it. Your sister and her girlfriend must just be the exception. 

“No.” Ingrid said firmly. “No. It isn’t you. You just have… bad luck. You make me and Mapi want to be better, Solstråle. Better for you, so that we can take care of you in the way that you deserve. You are good, Solstråle, and you deserve good, even when you don’t feel like it.” 

For some reason, Ingrid’s words brought tears to your eyes. Good tears. “Well, I can’t have all bad luck. I get to be here with you two, and I don’t know if I would still be…” you trailed off, trying to figure out what you wanted to say. “You both saved my life, I think. The two of you wanting me here, and taking me in, that’s good luck.” You managed, sitting up and shifting so you were facing your sister, who looked one word away from bursting into tears herself. 

“It’s not good luck, mi sol. It’s what you deserve. It’s what you should have had this whole time.” Mapi chimed in from the doorway, looking fondly at the two of you. Ingrid smiled at her in thanks, humming quietly in agreement with her girlfriend’s statement. The Spaniard wandered in closer, flopping onto the free space on your bed, causing a disgruntled Scout to shift, kicking Mapi lightly in the side. “That girl did not deserve you. And you’ll find someone who wants to treat you the way you deserve. You just can’t rush stuff like that, sí? It will come to you when it does.” 

It was potentially the most frustrating advice to receive, but it made you feel better nonetheless. 

“And she was kind of ugly.” Mapi said as an afterthought. 

“Mapi!” You laughed, smiling a real smile. Both girls’ faces lit up at the sight of the smile on your face, and both of them were desperate for you to keep smiling, for your face not to fall into the sad frown it had been in for the past hour. The conversation lulled, and Ingrid’s mind raced, trying to think of what people liked to do after breakups. She’d been with Mapi for so long, she wasn’t sure she remembered. 

“Do you want to lay in bed alone for the rest of your night, or do you want to watch a movie? Or we could go get ice cream. Or we could go shopping. Or on a run. Or-” Ingrid listed, only stopping when you cut her off. 

“Sister movie night sounds good.” You said softly, unable to express in that moment how much you appreciated how hard she was trying. You knew ingrid probably wanted to talk, to hear everything that had happened, but she was learning to respect that you really only liked to talk when you felt like it. Which wasn’t often. 

“Sister movie night, cool.” Ingrid said, trying to act like she wasn’t thrilled that you’d decided to be with her instead of requesting to be alone. “Go pick a movie, I’ll make popcorn.” 

You all dragged yourselves off your soft comforter, having grown rather comfortable, and headed for your bedroom door. 

“I’ll be in the garage.” Mapi said, smiling at both of you as she tried to wordlessly communicate that she knew you both wanted sister time, and it was okay that it didn’t include her. Both you and Ingrid froze, though, turning slightly to stare at her like she’d said something absurd. 

“Don’t be stupid.” You said, rolling your eyes. “‘Sister movie night’ obviously means ‘sister and her live-in girlfriend’ movie night.” 

Mapi looked a bit surprised, though she shouldn’t have been. There were very few times that you just wanted to be with Ingrid, and those times were becoming less and less frequent as you began to depend on Mapi more and more. “You want me to watch with you?” 

“Sí.” You said, almost exasperated. “Why wouldn’t I want you to hangout with us?”

“I just thought it was Engen sister time…” Mapi trailed off, looking uncharacteristically insecure.  

“Engen León family time.” Ingrid amended, looking at you for approval. You nodded. 

“Who else is going to talk the entire length of the film?” You asked, smirking and sprinting off down the stairs when Mapi gave you an offended look, Scout hot on your heels. 

------

The movie had been a good distraction, not that Mapi or Ingrid really paid much attention to it. Instead, they kept glancing over at where you were curled up on the couch. Scout had taken his place next to you, one of his legs stretching out every now and then to kick in Mapi’s direction. 

The conversation with them had obviously made you feel better, but they were still rather uneasy. You were acting completely normally, all of a sudden. And they didn’t buy it, not for a second. They weren’t sure what had happened, because you hadn’t said, but they knew that it wasn’t good. You’d been infatuated with Camila, and now you were reluctant to speak her name. Whatever had gone on had hurt you, deeply, but in the span of a few hours, you were acting like you were completely fine. 

To you, it just felt like there was no use in thinking about it anymore. Crying over what happened, being sad or angry with Camila wouldn’t help you. It wouldn’t make you feel better. You’d very logically taken stock of your emotions, before deciding that they were completely useless. You were fine. 

Well, maybe not, but you would be fine. Especially if you acted like nothing was wrong. Like you weren’t questioning every choice you’d made with Camila. Like you didn’t hate yourself. Emotions only had power if you gave it to them, you decided. Before, you might have been angry. Now, though, you just… forced it all off, far away. No feeling anything until it hurt less to think about what had happened. 

It seemed like a good plan to you, and you stuck to it. Even when you couldn’t fall asleep that night, your mind swirling with horrible thoughts as you tried to push them away. Eventually, you gave up, putting on a show and forcing yourself to focus on that, instead. 

It was obvious that you hadn’t slept the next morning, walking down to the kitchen like a zombie. Ingrid and Mapi were hoping you’d be a little more forthcoming with what had occurred today, but all hopes of that went out the window when you avoided eye contact with them, a hood pulled over your head, dark bags under your eyes. At least you there was no school, as you had the day off, but they had training, training they couldn’t miss. Neither of them felt very good about leaving you home alone, with no idea what was going on in your head. 

You were blankly shoveling cereal into your mouth when Ingrid got your attention. 

“Solstråle!” She said rather loudly. You jumped slightly, looking across the table at her in confusion. “I said your name 5 times. Did you not hear me?” 

Ingrid didn’t sound mad, just worried, and you felt your throat tighten. 

No. No. No tears. No sadness. That wouldn’t help. Self pity wouldn’t help. The only thing to do was to move forward. 

“Sorry. I’m just tired. Had coffee too late yesterday, couldn't sleep.” You mumbled, turning your attention back to the ceramic bowl in front of you. Your thoughts wandered, briefly, to the fact that since you’d moved in, there hadn’t been a single day where there wasn’t a box of your favorite cereal in the pantry. You really must have been feeling the complete lack of sleep, because that thought alone almost had you tearing up. 

“Come to training today. María is out on the grass, again, you can watch.” Ingrid suggested softly. 

You shook your head though, swallowing the lump in your throat. You didn’t want to be far from them, but you also knew that if they kept being so nice to you, you weren’t going to be able to keep it together. 

“I’m really tired, I just want to stay here.” You replied.  Ingrid looked like she wanted to argue, but Mapi nodded from where she stood at the fridge, filling her water.

“That’s okay. Stay here, have a chill day. We’ll be back after lunch.” She walked over to you, squeezing your shoulder kindly. The Spaniard said goodbye, before exiting the kitchen. Ingrid hung back, not really caring at all that she might make them late. 

Your sister stood from her spot at the table, and you mumbled a quiet goodbye, only looking up when she came to stand right next to you. Her hand pulled your hood down, her fingers tilting your chin up to look at her. Her face was pinched with concern, and you felt a pang of guilt that you were doing this again. Making them worry about you. 

“Try to sleep or something? You looked exhausted, sweetheart. No runs or hikes or climbs, please. Just stay here?” Ingrid asked, making sure to frame her request as a question, and not a command. 

“Okay.” You agreed, far too tired to even think about any of those things. You knew Ingrid just wanted you to stay where she knew you were, which was fine. You were honestly just surprised she hadn’t dragged you to training with her. 

She lightly patted your cheek, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Be good. I love you.” 

“Love you too. Play safe.” 

You were wide awake, completely wired. Even as everything inside of you told you that you should be tired, you felt like you might never sleep again. You kept your promise to your sister, though, collapsing onto the couch and putting a show on. Scout came to lay with you, falling asleep easily in your lap. You were jealous of your dog, you realized. It was an amusing thought, but all you felt was… Empty. Nothing. Because if you let yourself laugh, you were sure it would turn into sobs, and you couldn’t do that. 

You just had to be strong.

-------

You got into bed early that night, hoping that the added time laying down would help you fall asleep. You were so exhausted, truly, but as you laid in bed at 8pm, you knew instinctively that you wouldn’t be able to sleep again. Everytime you drifted off, your thoughts drifted too, and you’d jerk awake, struck with a reminder of what Camila had said. Her words were haunting you. Everytime you closed your eyes, you could see the sneer on her face as she spoke, and hear the cruel words she’d spoken. 

You were beginning to think she was right about you. How were you so screwed up after a relationship ended that had only lasted a few weeks to begin with? You thought you loved her, yes, but you were being dramatic. You shouldn’t be this devastated, and in your head, this only reinforced that idea that Camila had been right. You were too immature. You were too messed up. No one was ever going to want to deal with you. 

A soft knock on your door dragged you out of your thoughts, thankfully. 

“Come in,” you called. Mapi pushed the door open, taking in the rather unnaturally clean room around her. You’d gone crazy cleaning the night before, putting away all the clothes strewn across the floor. It was neat and clutter free in there now, and Mapi’s heart melted at the sight of the framed photo on your nightstand. It was of the three of you, a candid that Frido had taken after a match. It was little things like this that made Mapi deeply happy, and deeply sad all at once. For six months you’d lived here, and they’d given you the space they thought you needed. It was so far from what you actually needed, though, and Mapi couldn’t help the guilt that filled her at the thought. All she and Ingrid could do now, though, was do better. 

So, she entered your room, holding out a mug towards you. It was the one she’d picked out at Ikea, the one with the map and the sun. You knew for a fact that you’d used it this morning for your coffee, which meant Mapi must have pulled it out of the dishwasher and hand washed it herself, so she could bring it up to you. 

“I made you tea.” She said, taking a seat on the edge of your bed as you grabbed the mug from her. 

“Did you think caffeine would help me sleep?” You asked skeptically. 

She rolled her eyes. “No, idiota, it is sleepytime tea. There’s no caffeine.” 

You took a cautious sip, smiling a bit when you liked the taste. 

“My mami always made it for me when I couldn’t sleep.” Mapi said quietly. “Thought it might help tonight since you decided to become nocturnal yesterday.” 

Ingrid and Mapi really toed the line of parent vs. sister / guardian. It was often a sisterly relationship, you thought, with both of them. When you would tease each other, or argue about borrowing their clothes. Other times, it felt completely parent-y. When they’d make you go to bed early, or annoy you about studying for a test. 

This situation definitely fell into the latter category, and you found that you minded it less and less. 

“It’s good.” You told her, taking another sip. “And I didn’t decide to become nocturnal. It just kind of happened.”

Mapi hummed, looking around the room again. You just had the string lights above your bed on, the room lit also by the soft glow of the TV, as your favorite sitcom played. You’d lit a candle, and you were bundled up under the covers of your bed, clearly trying hard to be comfortable. Clearly trying very hard to sleep. 

You looked so tired, it made her heart ache, and she knew Ingrid felt the same. Ingrid, who Mapi was absolutely sure was hovering outside the door, not wanting to overwhelm you. You seemed… fragile. Like you were one step away from breaking at any given moment, and neither of them wanted that to happen before you were ready. Ingrid was just as worried about you, though, and she’d only agreed not to go in if Mapi promised to make you promise something. 

“Can you promise to wake us up tonight if you can’t sleep?” Mapi said finally, looking intently at you. 

With a sigh, you shrugged. “What good would that do?”

“You wouldn’t have to be alone.” Mapi said simply, watching as a flicker of emotion flashed across your face. You didn’t have to be alone anymore. Sometimes you forgot. “If you don’t promise, Ingrid is probably going to come in here every hour or something and check on you.” 

With a roll of your eyes, and a big sigh that you didn’t really mean, you nodded. “Fine.” 

“Good.” Mapi grinned. “Goodnight, mi sol. Te quiero.” 

“Goodnight.” You replied. “Tell Ingrid in the hall goodnight too.” 

The Spaniard chuckled. “I will. Sleep tight.”

With that, she leaned down, pressing a kiss onto your forehead, before she slipped out of the room. Hushed whispers came from the hall and you smiled to yourself, just a bit. Ingrid was such a weirdo sometimes. 

-------

It was around 2am when you broke. You’d tried everything you could think of to fall asleep, and nothing had worked. Worse, the lack of sleep was really getting to you and you were feeling ridiculously emotional. When you promised Mapi you’d wake them up if you couldn’t sleep again, you hadn’t meant it. Now, though, as you lay awake in your bed, tears threatening to fall, you really didn’t want to be alone. You weren’t sure how they could help, or even if you wanted help, but you knew that the indisputably healthy choice to make here would be to go to them. And you were trying to be better for yourself. 

Even as Camila’s words rattled around in your head, and you were half convinced you were an awful person, about to become even worse by waking Ingrid and Mapi up, you got up from your bed, and walked down the hall. 

There were a lot of notable moments in your time in Spain. A lot of them consisted of long, emotional talks with Ingrid and Mapi. And you knew that this was likely what you were headed for. It was naive to think you could hold everything that had happened in, keep it all to yourself. Especially when you’d kind of gotten used to sharing things with them, as horrifying as that thought was. You weren’t nervous, like usual, though. You just wanted them to tell you that everything she’d said was wrong. 

Scout followed you down the hall, slightly annoyed that you’d woken him up when you got up. He liked to sleep with some part of him touching you, so it was inevitable that when you woke, Scout did too. Your sister’s bedroom door was open, and you peeked in, half second guessing yourself. Both of them were asleep. It was a cool night, by Barcelona’s standards, which was obvious by Mapi’s sweatshirt and sweatpants that she’d worn to bed, as well as the extra blanket pulled over her. Ingrid, on the other hand, had kicked the comforter off of her, sleeping in just a tshirt and shorts. They were laying facing each other, their hands tangled together, like they’d fallen asleep talking. 

They were sleeping. They’d had a long week. They had training the following day. You shouldn’t wake them. They looked comfortable and peaceful, and you shouldn’t ruin that. You turned to go back to your room, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying at how utterly alone you suddenly felt. 

You were sure you hadn’t made any noise, but still, a whispered voice stopped you in your tracks. 

“Solstråle?” Ingrid asked quietly, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, go back to sleep.” You said, trying to keep your voice steady. It evidently didn’t work, because not a second later, Ingrid was flicking the lamp on, looking at you with a sympathetic expression on her face. Next to your sister, her girlfriend huffed in annoyance, still practically asleep, pulling the covers up and over her head. Ingrid rolled her eyes, before fixing her attention back on you.

“Come here.” Ingrid instructed, gesturing you closer to the bed. You walked over, feeling ridiculously like a small child waking their parents up after a bad dream. “You can’t sleep?”

“No.” You said miserably, roughly wiping away a stray tear. 

“How can I help? Do you want to talk?” She asked worriedly, brutally kicking Mapi in the shin as she did so, thinking that her girlfriend would be somewhat helpful in this situation, even if she was half asleep. The Spaniard grumbled unhappily, but emerged from under the covers just as you responded. 

“I don’t know, I just can’t stop thinking about her.” You whispered, truly not confident that anything could make you feel better in that moment. 

Mapi sat up, patting the middle of the bed invitingly. It was a king, and there was plenty of room, but you looked between her and Ingrid skeptically. 

“I’m not a child.” You said a bit harshly, thinking of Camila calling you immature. If only she could see you now. 

“We know. You just broke up with your girlfriend, though, and you haven’t slept in over a day. You are sad and exhausted, and it isn’t childish to need help.” Mapi said kindly, very dramatically scooching over so there was more room for you. 

You floundered for a minute, not quite sure what to do. You were an adult. An adult. And Ingrid and Mapi were not your parents. The appeal was there, though, to climb into the bed and tell them everything. To let yourself break when you knew they’d keep track of all the pieces, and put you back together. “Can I have more tea?” You blurted out, looking at Mapi. You weren’t really sure where that came from, but she nodded enthusiastically, rising from the bed, practically taking off for the kitchen in a sprint. 

“I’ll go make some!” 

You turned back to Ingrid, chewing aggressively on your lip. She rolled her eyes at you, teasingly, before she pointendly looked between you and the bed. 

“Get in the damn bed.” Ingrid sighed. It was easier, when she was telling you exactly what to do, because you didn’t have to worry about picking the wrong answer. You settled on the bed, right in the middle, and Ingrid threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to lean your head on her shoulder. 

“Ingrid?” You said after a minute, so quietly, your sister almost missed it. 

“Hmm?” 

“Do you think I’m immature?” You asked. 

Ingrid thought for a moment. “No. I think you’ve had to grow up really fast, and you’ve had to make a lot of big adjustments. You are more mature because of all of that. Why?”

You knew she would hate what you were going to say. “Camila said I was.” 

Ingrid grew tense next to you. “That’s because she was a 26 year old woman dating an 18 year old. What was she fucking expecting?” Ingrid said venomously. 

Mapi walked back into the room, taking care to be quiet, as it looked like you were deep in thought. She placed the mug of tea on her nightstand before she sat on the bed next to you, turning so she could see your face.

“Did she say anything else?” Ingrid asked cautiously. 

You opened your mouth to tell her that, no, Camila hadn’t said anything else. Instead, words flowed out of your mouth that you hadn’t decided to say, but you were unable to contain them. “She called me jealous and immature. She said the ‘mommy issues’ were really obvious, that I was insecure and clingy, and that I wasn’t worth it. That no one would want to put up with me.” 

You said it so forlornly, so resigned to what this awful woman had told you, Ingrid felt an anger she’d never experienced before rise within her. Neither she nor Mapi knew what to say right away, collecting their thoughts. You broke the silence again, though, after only a few seconds. 

“I think she’s right.” You said, your voice breaking clearly. You pressed your hands to your face, body shaking with silent sobs. 

“No, mi sol, no,” Mapi said softly, scooting closer to rest a hand on your knee. 

Ingrid took a breath, trying to swallow her anger, rubbing your arm with her hand comfortingly. “Solstråle, you are none of those things. That awful woman has no idea who you are, not really. You are not immature, you are 18. There is a huge difference. And you are so much more than what happened with mom. You are so many good things despite mom, sweetheart, and Camila doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She just wanted to hurt you, none of that is true.” Ingrid said insistently. 

“Why would she want to hurt me? I thought she liked me. I don’t understand.” You replied, still keeping your face hidden away in your hands. 

“Because she isn’t a good person, and she doesn’t deserve you. And you don’t understand because you are good, mi sol. So good.” 

“Then why do such horrible things keep happening?” You asked, voice raised slightly in frustration. You pulled your hands away from your face, looking between your sister and her girlfriend with a tearstained, bewildered face. “I’m trying to be good, I’m trying so hard, why is this so hard?”

Both girls felt their hearts break a little at your words. Ingrid wrapped both her arms around you, pulling you into her chest as you cried. “I know, Solstråle, it’s not fair. It’s going to get better. I promise you, it is.”

“I’m tired of everything being so hard.” You cried, shutting your eyes tightly as you spoke. You felt a soft hand brushing your hair away from your forehead, felt Ingrid leave a kiss on your forehead. “I’m tired.”

You meant it figuratively, and literally, and Mapi and Ingrid knew that very well. The best thing they could do for you now, would be to get you calm enough to sleep. It was happening without them trying very hard, honestly. You could barely keep your eyes open, even as soft sobs fell from your mouth. 

“It’s not going to be hard forever. I promise you, mi sol.” Mapi said, looking intently at you, though you didn’t look back at her. 

“I’m so tired.” You repeated, barely making sense. You were almost delirious with exhaustion, your emotional outburst only making it worse. 

“Sleep, solstråle. We are right here. Everything will feel better in the morning. You aren’t going to feel like this forever. Just relax, and sleep. We love you so much.” 

And even as you nodded, all the fight and worry of being too much for them flooding from your body, you wondered if they were right. If everything would feel better. 

If anyone would ever really want you. 

You drifted off ridiculously easily, curled up next to your sister, your brain going quiet for the first time in days. Once Ingrid was sure you were asleep, she turned to her girlfriend, who was tucking the blankets around you nice and tight. 

“I am going to kill that girl.” Ingrid murmured, feeling absurdly protective over you. 

“I will kill her first.” Mapi vowed. 

“She isn’t allowed to date again until she’s 50.” Ingrid said, a frown etched on her face. 

Mapi cracked a smile. “Good luck with that, mi amor.” 

Ingrid shook her head. “I can’t stand to see her like this.” 

The Spaniard turned serious again, nodding her agreement. “It’s gonna get better, Ingrid. It’s not going to be perfect, but she’s already better. She just needs time.” 

“I wish I could take it from her, so she could just be happy all the time.” Ingrid admitted, flicking the lamp off, her voice barely more than a whisper. 

“I do too.” Mapi whispered back. She and Ingrid looked at each other over your slumbering form, each seeing their exact feelings reflected in the other’s face, even with their features obscured by darkness. They just wanted things to be better for you. Easier and lighter and happier. They’d do anything, get you the moon if you wanted it. They didn’t consider if they were giving you all they could, that maybe you needed something else. They just promised themselves that they wouldn’t rest until you were happier, whatever it took. Whatever it took for you, because you were their sol, and nothing on earth was more important to them than your happiness. 

-------

my name is girlgenius1111 and i like to make my fictional kid suffer give me all your thoughts on this installment of sol ☀️

#woso imagine #woso x reader #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #engen!reader #platonic reader #🍓☀️ #woso one shot #woso fanfics

[stevie-petey]

episode two: the mall rats

Steve lazily drapes an arm over you, which Dustin narrows his eyes at. “Yeah, I mean. Sure. It’s not really a good idea for me, though. I gotta keep in shape for the ladies.” “Ugh,” you scoff in disgust at Steve’s words and shrug his arm off of you before scooting away from him. Sometimes you forget how much of an idiot he can be. That he used to wear the crown of King Steve. You turn slightly away from him and finish eating your ice cream, annoyed and slightly hurt, though you know you have no right to be. It’s not like you’re with Steve, anyways.

Summary: dreams you weird, billy is a hitchhiker, and hopper flirts with joyce in front of you (youre not sure which is scarier), somehow robin knows russian and has genius ears, you get caught in an awkward breakup showdown, and you shamefully are shocked when you discover that hawkins is anything but normal. you would think youd be a pro at this already, but at least steve is hot and really good at sneaking through windows.

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, allusions to violence, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 13.2k

Before you swing in: hello !!! new chapter, i am so sorry for the wait :/ the end of the semester has been killer and ive been super busy with my lab job (i present at a conference friday ... pray for me). heres chapter 2, she somehow ended up being 13k words but lets ignore that for my own sanity !

-

There are dandelions all around you.

Their puffs of white surround you as the seeds dance in the air and settle atop of your head and tickle your cheek. They’re soft, reminiscent of the snow that encases you every winter in Hawkins and the days you used to chase Jonathan around in his backyard.

You’re barefoot in a field that you can’t quite place. The grass below you skims against your ankles as the dandelion seeds float towards the tops of the green. It’s a familiar landscape, something tells you that you’ve been here before, and the thought is almost reassuring to you.

The sun is warm against you and there’s someone in the distance. You open your mouth to call out to them, they feel as familiar as the landscape before you does, but when you try to speak, the dandelion seeds begin to swarm into your mouth. The puffs of white seem to turn into daggers in your throat as they cut your tongue and slice inside you as you struggle to breathe.

You try to scream, but nothing comes out. The dandelions now draw blood as they continue their malicious attack on you. You claw at your mouth and cower in the field, trying to flee from what’s attacking you, but the dandelions only follow as you try to call after the figure you saw in the distance.

Stumbling blindly through the grass, panic stricken and longing for the person who had once been at the top of the hill, your foot catches on a root and suddenly you’re falling. This time, you do scream, and the dandelion seeds spill from your mouth as you fall into an endless abyss.

“Y/N!” Your eyes fly open and your body shoots from your bed; you almost head butt Dustin in the process. He flinches back, startled by your violent reaction, and he puts his hands up in surrender and backs away. “Geesh, I was just trying to wake you up.”

It takes you a few moments to process that you are, in fact, awake. Your heartbeat is still pounding rapidly in your throat. You can still feel the dandelion seeds on your tongue and the millions of little cuts they left behind.

Dustin stares at you with slight concern in his eyes and you clear your throat, trying to rid the memory of your dream. That’s all it was. A dream.

Clearing your throat again, you try to calm yourself down. “Why are you in my room?”

“Like I said, I was trying to wake you up.” Your brother says as if you’re an idiot.

“But why?”

“Did you bang your head or something last night?” He gives you an odd look and you glare at him. “Cerebro caught a Russian code, remember? You promised we’d see Steve today to talk about it!”

You rub your eyes, exhausted. It’s taking longer than usual for your mind to wake up and process everything. “I know, I know… What time is it?”

“Eight, now get up and go get pretty for Steve so we can discuss how to become American heroes.” Dustin crosses his arms, silently daring you to argue.

“There was so much wrong with that sentence,” you groan, but reluctantly throw your blankets off of you and start pulling out random shorts and a t-shirt to wear. “You’re lucky it’s the weekend and I don’t work today.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Dustin mocks you, tossing you a white t-shirt and removing the red one from your hands. “Steve likes you in white, now hurry up.”

Your mouth drops in shock, but your brother simply rolls his eyes at you and leaves your room so that you can get dressed.

“How does he even know that?” You whisper to yourself, now alone in your room.

–

Dustin bikes ahead of you as you make your way to Joyce’s store in Downtown Hawkins. He had complained when you told him that you needed to make a pitstop there before going to the mall.

“I haven’t seen Steve in a month!”

“And Mrs. Byers is close to losing her job at Melvald’s, so you can wait the extra five minute detour it takes to deliver her muffins to cheer her up.”

Your brother had tried to argue some more, but you simply shoved a fresh baked muffin in his mouth and began to bike away.

Now, as the two of you head towards Downtown, the early morning air fills your lungs and slowly wakes you up. It’s quiet, Hawkins isn’t quite awake yet in the early hour. Only the bees buzzing past your ear seem to be lively.

You watch Dustin up ahead and briefly marvel at how much bigger he seems to have gotten in the month he was away at camp. He looks older, more mature, no longer the baby brother your mom brought home fourteen years ago.

As you’re lost in your reminiscence, you almost miss the figure that stumbles along the side of the road.

“Dustin!” You yell at the boy, weary of whoever is up ahead. “Stop!”

He hears the fear in your voice and screeches his bike to a halt. Turning around, he checks to make sure you’re okay. “Did something happen?”

You stop next to him and discreetly point at the figure a few yards away. It seems to be a boy, maybe a teen your age, but he’s walking as if he’s in immense pain. “You see that?”

“Yeah,” Dustin squints and also seems unnerved by the person’s appearance. “Think it’s anything dangerous?”

“I don’t know…” Something feels familiar about the person. Their hair, the way it’s styled, reminds you of someone. You squint as well, your eyes catch on the person’s leather jacket and the expensive brand, there’s a faint outline of cigarettes in the pocket, and the sight fills your nose with the smoke that once choked you last winter. “I think it’s Billy.”

“Why is he walking on the side of the road?” Dustin makes a face. “I know he has a car, the bastard almost ran me and the party over on Halloween.”

You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and try to understand why you feel this tug within you to get closer to the teen. Billy is cruel, he is horrible, and the bruises he left on your neck took weeks to fully fade away. Yet there’s a concern within you as you watch him stumble, as if in some daze, and it's this worry that solidifies your decision. “Stay here.”

“What–” Dustin turns and sees that you’ve gotten back on your bike and are now pedaling towards Billy. “Y/N! Are you insane?”

“Stay here!” You order, not really understanding why you’re doing this either. “Just… Wait for my signal!”

Dustin curses, not at all liking this plan, but he listens. He tightens his grip on his bike’s handlebar and makes sure you never leave his line of sight in case you need him for backup.

As you approach Billy, you make sure to circle widely around him so that he sees you coming, before finally facing in front of him. You brake a few feet away from him, incredibly nervous for how he may react. You haven’t spoken to him since last winter, he had kept his promise to Max to leave you alone.

Billy barely seems to register that you’re in front of him. He stops as if he’s in a trance and blinks slowly at you. You notice the cut on his forehead, how there’s still fresh blood dripping from it, and something within you wants to tend to the wound. Then you notice the grime that covers his face and his jacket, and you begin to worry even more.

As you’re eying his disheveled appearance, Billy opens his mouth, and the action looks as if it takes all the energy within him to do so. “S–sweetheart?”

“Are you okay?” You ignore the nickname he gave you that makes your skin crawl. You’re more worried about his appearance. He’s sweating like crazy, almost as if he’s on drugs, and he’s paler than normal. His California tan is gone, his eyes are glazed over, he looks as if he isn’t really here with you right now.

It scares you. You’ve never seen him like this.

“‘M fine,” Billy slurs. He seems… off. More drawn into himself now, less sure of himself. Scared, even. It’s a strange sight to see: Billy Hargrove, alone and frightened, in the early morning of June. “I… I’m fine.”

His slurred words aren’t reassuring, and a part of you wants to offer him a ride on your bike. You assume he’s heading to the local pool to lifeguard, you know it’s where he spends most of his days, but you have Dustin with you and you’re still nervous around Billy.

The wounds he gave you may have healed, but some nights, when the nightmares are really bad, you wake up to his hands around your throat.

It feels wrong just leaving Billy like this, though. He’s still human, Max has slowly opened up to you about her abusive stepdad and the way he punches her brother. You know that Billy’s actions come from his hurt, but you don’t think you’re ready yet to forgive him. Not now, at least.

Reluctantly, you sigh and wave your hand to indicate to Dustin that he’s fine to start biking over. Billy doesn’t seem like a threat right now in his current state. When you see your brother start to pedal closer, you look back at Billy. “Listen, I know we aren’t… friends.”

Billy stares blankly at you, and you really hope that he can understand what you’re saying right now.

“But if you need anyone to talk to, about anything, come find me, okay?” You tell him, hesitantly placing a hand on his arm as you speak. However, when your skin makes contact with his, you flinch at how cold he is.

Before you can say anything else, Dustin finally catches up and brakes softly next to you. He looks nervously between you and Billy. “So… Uh. Ready to go, Y/N?”

“Yeah…” You pull away from Billy, your fingers almost numb from his cold skin, and spare him one last glance as you start to bike away. “Remember what I said, okay?”

Billy doesn’t say anything.

You and Dustin leave him stranded on the side of the road.

Neither one of you talk about this.

–

As usual, Downtown Hawkins is deserted when you and Dustin arrive at Melvald’s. The only two cars parked in front of the rundown store belong to Joyce and Hopper.

You hop off your bike and park it in the bike rack before carefully untying the container of muffins from the back. Dustin is slumped on top of his bike, silently complaining, and you wave a stern finger at him. “Wait here, okay? This will only take five minutes, I promise.”

“I’m telling Steve that you’re cheating on him with Mrs. Byers.”

“Not cheating if we aren’t together,” you quip, before opening the door to the store.

When you step inside the store, you’re greeted with Hopper obnoxiously yelling and jumping around as Joyce laughs and claps for him. Curious, you carefully side step the grown man and make your way over to the woman.

“Y/N!” Joyce lights up even more when she sees you, and then lets out a small cheer when she sees that you’re holding one of your signature baked goods containers. “Are those for me?”

“Always, Mrs. Byers.” You grin at her and set the container down. “They’re the muffins you really liked last week, thought I’d bake a special batch just for you.”

Hopper now joins you at the store’s counter in front of Joyce. He’s practically vibrating with his excited energy, so much so that he even smiles at you and claps a hand behind your back. “Kid, it’s like you knew we’d be celebrating a monumental occasion today.”

“What, did Jonathan finally wash his bedsheets?”

Joyce shakes her head and Hopper claps again, now grasping your shoulders and shakes you around. “No, even better! I got Mike out of my house!”

Through Joyce, you had learned all about Hopper’s utter disdain of Mike’s relationship with El. He has spent every day at their cabin since getting together, and even you have had to pry the girl away from Mike a few times to hang out with her. It’s hard bonding with El when Mike is breathing down your neck.

You’re all for young love, you think they’re adorable together, but christ. You understand Hopper’s frustration.

“Actually,” you’re still being shaken by the man. “That does sound better. How’d ya do it?”

Hearing your question, Hopper thankfully stops shaking your shoulders and now happily points at Joyce. “It was all her. I’m the puppet, she’s the master. Joyce gave me a brilliant script to say to the kid.”

“So you remembered everything?” Joyce asks, now unwrapping one of your muffins with glee.

“Yeah… well,” Hopper pauses. “I mean, I had to improvise a little bit, you know?”

You wince. “Oh, that’s never good.”

He glares at you but continues to explain. “It turns out that getting to Mike was the key.”

His words only make you wince again, and you look at Joyce. She meets your eye and the two of you silently agree that something doesn’t sound right here. She questions Hopper further. “And you didn’t yell at him?”

Hopper hesitates, which you expected. “I’ll… tell you everything over dinner.”

“Okay!” You step in between the adults and wave your arms out, preventing whatever else is about to be said. “I’m still here, let’s remember that.”

The chief glares at you again and narrows his eyes. “You’re right, you are still here. Why are you still here?”

“Because Mrs. Byers loves me and I baked her delicious muffins.” You deadpan, which Joyce chuckles at. “And while I’m sure whatever she told you to say to Mike was lovely, I have my doubts that you actually listened.”

“She’s got a point, Hop.” Joyce voices.

Hopper sighs at you both. “Okay, maybe I said some things, haven’t told El the whole truth, but what else was I supposed to do?”

“Not lie to kids?” Crossing your arms, you make a face at the man.

“Easy for you to say, little miss Hawkins’ sweetheart.” Hopper scoffs at you. “Got any better advice?”

You roll your eyes at his words. You understand that the man is still grappling with being a father again, he’s never been one to handle feelings any better, so you spare him some pity and try to be honest with him, say what he needs to hear. “Look, all I’m saying is that the best thing my deadbeat father ever did was teach me kindness, and it broke my heart when he was dishonest in the end. Just, don’t be that way with El, okay?”

Hopper is quiet as your words hang in the air.

Joyce is quiet as well, looking between you and the chief with a fondness in her eyes. It’s not often she sees someone render Hopper speechless, and she knows that it’s one of the many things she loves the most about your relationship with him. Though she would never tell you this, she thinks that Hopper secretly has his own fondness for you as well.

When the silence stretches for an uncomfortably long amount of time, you clear your throat and change the subject. “Well! This was fun, happy we did this.”

Hopper snorts, relieved you’re moving on as well. “Get lost, kid.”

“Gladly.” You turn back to Joyce and press a swift kiss to her cheek. “I’ll see you later, Mrs. Byers!”

Joyce says goodbye as well, and when you’ve left the store, she faces Hopper with a slight smirk. “She’s a good kid, Hop.”

“She is,” he agrees, looking down at his shoes. He will never admit this to anyone else, but to Joyce he knows his words are safe. “She’s the best of ‘em.”

–

When you finally get to the mall, Dustin basically dumps his bike in a spot next to a disgruntled older couple and runs before you can even slow down. He’s so lost in his excitement to see Steve as he runs towards Scoops and leaves you to deal with his bike and the couple alone, which you groan at.

“He acts like it’s been a year,” you grumble, finally hopping off your own bike to grab Dustin’s and secure them both to a nearby rack. After mumbling a quick apology to the couple your brother practically threw a bike at, you run after him inside.

By the time you catch up, Dustin has just entered Scoops and is talking to Robin. You approach, curious to see how this event will unfold. Robin hasn’t met your brother yet, and you have a feeling that his abrasive nature will either make her his biggest fan or absolutely hate him.

It’s the Henderson charm, really.

“I’m Dustin,” your brother introduces himself as you come to stand next to him. When he notices your arrival, he motions towards you and winks at Robin. “I’m sure Y/N has told you all about me.”

Robin raises her eyebrows at the kid, and you try to cover a giggle with a cough. “I’m Robin. I’m sure Y/N has told you a lot about me.”

“I probably have,” shrug, knowing you always talk about the people you love. When Robin and Dustin both look at you with confused faces, you quickly clarify, “I’ve talked about you both, I mean.”

“Can we cut the chit chat?” Dustin asks, now annoyed by how long this conversation is taking. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Robin, but uh. Is he here?”

“Is who here?” Robin looks over at you for help, but before you can prepare her for the inevitable storm of Steve’s bizarre and endearing friendship with Dustin, the older teen’s body comes crashing through the backdoor and his sneakers squeak loudly against the tile.

“Hendersons!” Steve raises his arms in the air in greeting, an ecstatic smile on his face when he sees both you and Dustin standing in Scoops Ahoy. You and your brother start to laugh as Steve now dances around, cheering and gleeful. “You’re both here! Little Henderson is back!”

“I’m back!” Dustin cheers. “And you got the job!”

Steve is beaming and his smile is probably one of the happiest you’ve seen cross his pretty face. He had complained about missing Dustin the entire month he had been gone, moaning and groaning about how he was bored at your house now that he didn’t have Dustin to shoo away.

“I got the job!” Steve mimes playing the trumpet before he starts his intricate and dumb handshake with Dustin.

It’s a complicated process, with fist bumps and pretend lightsaber death. They had come up with it during a particularly boring snow day at your house. You watched as they thought up the handshake while you made cocoa for everyone, heart swelling as Steve was so patient with your brother and encouraged his nerdy little habits.

It had taken them almost the entire day to create what they deemed “the perfect handshake”, and as they go through it once more in Scoops Ahoy, you feel the same swelling in your chest as you did the very first time you saw them come up with the handshake.

While you gaze fondly at Dustin and Steve, Robin stands next to you and watches in horror. As Steve pretends to spew his guts everywhere, the girl leans over to you and says, “Is this what you deal with every day?”

“Yeah,” you can’t help but smile softly at the two boys. You missed seeing them together, more than you thought you had.

Robin sees the dreamy look in your eyes as you stare at Steve and she gags. Unhappy with how this day is looking, she turns to him. “How many children are you friends with?”

Steve’s smile falls and he sighs in defeat. Wordlessly he points at Robin as he looks at Dustin and raises his eyebrows in an exasperated manner. He’s had to deal with Robin’s teasing all summer, and Dustin seems to catch onto what he’s trying to tell him, so he quickly changes the subject. “Sorry we got here so late, man. Y/N insisted on gossiping with Mrs. Byers before coming here.”

“I spoke with her for five minutes.” You roll your eyes at him.

“Yeah, five minutes too long.”

“Your breath reeks.”

“You have a pimple on your chin.”

You gasp and quickly cover your face. “I do not–”

“This is fascinating,” Robin whispers as she looks between you and Dustin. “It’s like there’s two Y/Ns.”

Steve, having heard Robin, laughs. His smile had returned to his face as he watched you interact with your brother. “They’re reunited for one day and are already at each other’s throats.”

“Got a month of insults to catch up on,” you flick Steve, who winces and rubs his nose, offended.

Dustin suddenly straightens up. “Speaking of catching up…” He looks at you and tries to subtly motion over at Steve, mouthing “Russians!”, and being everything but discrete.

Steve frowns, unsure what’s happening, but you’re too busy worrying about revealing anything to Robin; she’s scarily good at reading people. Looking wearily at her, you clear your throat and tug at Dustin’s shirt. “C’mon, why don’t we get some ice cream and tell Steve about what you built at camp?”

Again Steve frowns. He had been hoping to share a sundae with you, not talk about boring science stuff with your brother. “Why do I wanna hear about some weird nerd tech–”

“Because you promised me free ice cream last night, when we called.” You interrupt, silently pleading with him to catch onto what you’re saying. “Remember?”

Something shifts within Steve’s eyes and his carefree expression now darkens. He remembers the fear in your voice last night over the phone, how you had asked him to tell you stories to fall asleep to. Clearing his throat, Steve nods and plays along. “Oh, how could I forget? Take Dustin to your booth and I’ll whip up some sundaes.”

You smile at him, thankful as always for how attuned to you he is, before you say a quick goodbye to Robin and tug your brother over to where you normally sit. Once you’re sure Robin isn’t listening, you yank at the boy. “Real subtle back there, doofus.”

“Oh, like Robin would know what Russians could mean.” Dustin grumbles as he slides into your designated booth. His hand catches on something in the seat and he tugs at it, pulling out an old Captain America comic. Holding it up, he narrows his eyes at you. “You really made a home here, huh?”

“Sure did,” you prop your feet up and dig out the Spider-Man comic you had been reading a few days ago. “The ice cream is surprisingly good here.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the ice cream is the reason you’re always here.” Dustin doesn’t even want to imagine how many hours you’ve spent in this cheesy ice cream parlor ogling over Steve. Maybe it’s a good thing he was gone most of the summer.

You flip to the last page you left off on and ignore Dustin’s insinuation. “Hey, free ice cream is free ice cream.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” Steve arrives and places down two giant sundaes onto the table. He slides next to you into the booth with a grand flourish. “Tada!”

Dustin wastes no time digging into his ice cream, making obnoxious noises as he shoves the food into his mouth. You cringe, disgusted that you’re related to him, but Steve kisses your cheek when the kid isn’t looking, and you can’t help but smile. Sneaking your own kiss to his cheek, you thank him. “You’re getting really good at whipping up sundaes, Steve.”

He preens at your praise. “It’s all in the forearms, ya know?” He makes a show out of rolling up his sleeves to show off his arms, which you giggle at with a slight flush on your face. Despite working inside all day, Steve has a nice sun kissed tan, which compliments how long his hair has gotten this summer.

Between his short Scoops Ahoy shorts and his hair streaked with sunlight, summer looks good on Steve.

In between bites of his ice cream, Dustin lifts his head up. “Quit talking about Steve’s arms and flirting in front of me, it’s gross.”

You fling a banana peel at him. “You’re the one too busy devouring his food to talk about anything else.”

“So you admit you’re flirting with me.” Steve teases, winking at you.

Dustin covers his eyes in disgust, forgetting about his ice cream entirely. “Seriously, stop it! You’re my sister, how would you feel if I flirted with Suzie in front of you?”

“I would–” You try to think of a response, but ultimately you deflate, unable to come up with anything. Frustratingly, you realize that the kid has a point; you’d be incredibly grossed out as well. “I would hate it.” You sigh, accepting defeat.

“Who’s Suzie?” Steve asks.

“Dustin’s girlfriend.” You say, popping a cherry into your mouth as you eagerly await the teen’s reaction to the girlfriend news.

As expected, Steve’s jaw drops and turns to your brother. No way the little twerp got a girlfriend before him this summer. “Girlfriend? Since when?”

“Met her at camp,” Dustin smirks at him, proud he’s surprised Steve. “She’s super hot, too. Hotter than Phoebe Cates.”

You roll your eyes at his insistence of referencing Suzie’s appearance, but Steve seems interested, although in disbelief as well. “No, no way. Hotter than Phoebe Cates? No.”

“Why is Phoebe Cates the gold standard?” You ask, unsure when she became everyone’s dream woman. All things considered, she’s incredibly attractive, but it’s weird that every boy you’ve spoken to about this universally finds her attractive. Steve finds her attractive, which you’re choosing not to think about because you don’t look anything like her.

Steve hears the slight bitterness in your tone and shuffles closer to you in the booth. Meanwhile, Dustin takes another bite out of his sundae and nods at him. “Mhm, she’s brilliant, too. She doesn’t even care that my real pearls are still coming in.”

“That’s great, Dustin!” You say, happy that your brother has found a girl who accepts him as he is. It’s sweet, really.

“I know, right?” He sits up straighter in the booth and smiles even wider. “She says kissing is better without teeth.”

You and Steve share a horrified look. Neither of you can believe what you’ve just heard, and you think a part of you died inside. Suddenly, the delicious sundae you’d been eating now turns to cement in your stomach at the thought of your little brother kissing a girl who enjoys his lack of teeth. “Oh, that’s… Yeah.”

“Wow!” Steve tries to mask his own horror and disgust, leaning even closer to you now to try and ground you as well. “Yeah, that’s… That’s great! Proud of you, man. That’s–That’s kinda romantic?”

Dustin basks in Steve’s praise and your disgust slowly melts away. Your brother genuinely seems happy to be with Suzie and even happier to tell Steve about it all. He won’t admit it, but you know he idolizes the teen. Steve’s word is like an oath to him, not even you have this much influence over the boy. If it were anyone else, you’d be offended and hurt, but seeing Steve flash Dustin a wink, you couldn’t have chosen anyone better for your brother to admire.

“So do you really just get to eat as much of this as you want?” Dustin motions towards his half-eaten sundae before turning to you. “How much ice cream have you had this summer?”

“A lot,” you shrug, taking another bite of your own sundae.

Steve lazily drapes an arm over you, which Dustin narrows his eyes at. “Yeah, I mean. Sure. It’s not really a good idea for me, though. I gotta keep in shape for the ladies.”

“Ugh,” you scoff in disgust at Steve’s words and shrug his arm off of you before scooting away from him. Sometimes you forget how much of an idiot he can be. That he used to wear the crown of King Steve. You turn slightly away from him and finish eating your ice cream, annoyed and slightly hurt, though you know you have no right to be.

It’s not like you’re with Steve, anyways.

Robin, from across the parlor, sees your sudden annoyance at Steve and calls out to him, “Yeah, and how’s that working out for you?”

“Ignore her,” Steve groans, not having the energy to deal with Robin’s quips and your anger being directed at him. He turns to you and lowers his voice. “I was kidding, Y/N. You know that–”

“Robin seems cool,” Dustin interrupts, not at all wanting to witness a lover’s feud between you and Steve. He left you two alone for a month, he thought he’d come back to you guys being an old married couple. Instead, he still has to suffer through your weird in between chaos.

You jump at the chance to gush about Robin, all while avoiding Steve’s pleading eyes. “She’s amazing. Genuinely one of the coolest people I know.”

“She’s not.” Steve corrects you, shaking his head. You roll your eyes at him and flick his ear, but as your hand lowers, he catches it with his and intertwines your fingers with a practiced ease. The action makes you blush and look away, still not ready to forgive him just yet. Steve sees the blush and feels your fingers tighten around his and he feels as if he can breathe again. There’s hope, at least. “So, where are the other knuckleheads?”

Dustin sighs. “They ditched me yesterday.”

“No,” Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Y/N, did they really?”

“They… Kinda did.” You wince, absentmindedly placing your other hand on top of the one Steve is holding. He smiles softly at the action, momentarily forgetting about what you've just told him.

“My first day back! Can you believe that shit?” Dustin’s hurt from last night returns, which only makes you feel worse.

Steve leans forward now, invested and equally as offended as the boy. “Seriously?”

“I swear to god,” Dustin pauses to take another bite of ice cream. “They’re gonna regret it, though, big time, when they don’t get to share in my glory.”

You drop your head onto the table and groan. “Is this really how you’re going to segue into the Russian thing?”

“You’re my sister. Why would you expect anything less of me?”

“Touche.” You lift your head back up and continue eating your ice cream. It’s the only thing keeping you going right now. Steve has learned how to make your sundaes perfect, adding the peach ice cream you adore with just the right amount of whipped cream.

Meanwhile, Steve has a confused look on his face as he looks between you and Dustin. “Glory? Russians? Did I miss something?”

Dustin smiles mischievously and lowers his voice as he slides closer to the teen. You roll your eyes at his antics, knowing that the conversation that’s about to unfold will only give you another headache. You missed Steve and Dustin being together, but you didn’t miss the way they seemed to double in stupidity when together.

Looking around to make sure he won’t be heard, Dustin begins to explain. “So, last night, as Y/N and I were trying to get in contact with Suzie…” He pauses, sees that Scoops Ahoy is now filling with more customers, and lowers his voice even more to an almost inaudible whisper and covers his mouth.

You and Steve both lean forward, unable to hear him. The teen asks Dustin to repeat himself while you sit there with slight amazement. You know what Dustin is trying to say, you’re more just surprised the kid can be so quiet. It’s a goddamn miracle, honestly.

Dustin inhales deeply and again tries to discreetly inform Steve of the Russian code, but his whispers are still too low to hear. Taking a final bite of your ice cream, you click your tongue at your brother. “You’re really killing it there, buddy.”

“Dude, just speak louder.” Steve’s curious interest is now more of an annoyance.

“I intercepted a secret Russian communication!” Dustin all but shouts, which causes you to practically throw yourself over the table to cover his mouth.

“Jesus fuck!” You look around and see everyone’s eyes on you, and with your hand still clamped firmly over your brother’s mouth, you clear your throat and laugh nervously. “I mean, haha. Pardon me.” The customers give you a weird look but turn away, though Robin continues to stare at you.

Steve gently removes your hand from Dustin’s mouth and once again intertwines his fingers with yours. “Jeez, okay. Yeah. That’s what I thought you said.”

“Did you have to yell?” You sneer at Dustin, still looking around nervously to make sure no one is paying too much attention to the three of you. While Hawkin’s Lab was overrun by Demodogs and every scientist within it died, you’re still terrified that they still have allies watching your every move.

Not that you think the Lab is responsible for Russians, but… Better safe than sorry.

Dustin rolls his eyes at you. “Your boyfriend is the one who couldn’t hear me.”

You’re about to correct him when Steve waves the boy off and goes back to the main topic. “What does any of that mean, though? The Russian code and whatever.”

“It means that we can never catch a break–”

“It means, Steve,” Dustin sends you a dirty look. “That we could be heroes. True American heroes.”

Steve seems into the idea and you want to scream. You hate the way Dustin is explaining all of this. “This could mean danger, guys.”

Dustin rolls his eyes at you and Steve smiles wearily. “I don’t know, Y/N. It doesn’t seem so bad, ya know? We’ve fought Demodogs, how bad could some Russians be?”

You cross your arms and narrow your eyes. “The Demodogs were created by shifty government facilities. Why are we assuming Russia doesn’t have their own?”

“But… American heroes.” Steve looks heartbreakingly pathetic as he says this, and you realize now that his fixation on being seen as some hero stems from the hurt he still feels over his father. He hadn’t turned into who had expected to become, something that you know his father reminds him of every time he comes back from some business trip. You wish you could convince Steve that he’s more than what his father could ever expect him to be, but you know he wouldn’t listen.

With Steve’s pleading eyes looking at you, lost and hopeless, you can’t argue with him. Sighing, you accept that this is something he has to take part in, if only to rebuild his crumbling confidence. “Tell him what you’re thinking, Dustin.”

“Gladly.” Your brother wastes no time diving in, once more eager and excited to have the attention on him, and it’s only now that you realize he’s doing this for the same reason Steve is: they both feel abandoned and hurt. “We need your help.”

“With what?”

Dustin digs through his backpack and takes out the Russian dictionary he made you steal from work. He holds it up and shows it to Steve. “Translation.”

Steve’s eyes widen and he grabs the book to inspect it. There’s a new spark in his eyes, one that died the day his father told him he wouldn’t attend his graduation. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” you exhale and slump in your seat. There’s no going back now. “I just want you both to know that I hate this plan and your excitement over it, but if I don’t help then you guys will somehow end up in a Russian gulag, and that would just be on me.”

Steve shares a look with Dustin, whose sigh reflects your own. “Glad you have faith in us, Y/N.”

–

It’s Steve's idea to work on the translation in the backroom of Scoops Ahoy, and neither you or Dustin argue. Technically, he’s the only one who has any real responsibilities today with work and all, so it makes sense to stay at Scoops and hide out there.

Dustin sits at the table next to you as he replays the tape recording over and over again. Steve paces the room and eats a banana, claiming he needed “brain food” to focus on the complex Russian language. You sit with your head in your hands, trying desperately to hold onto the bizarre language that floats around the room.

After his tenth time replaying the code, Dustin pauses the recording and looks at you and Steve. “So, what do you guys think?”

“It sounded familiar.” Steve shoves a piece of banana into his mouth. You cringe at the obscene amount of food he tries to chew at once. Seeing your disgust, Steve waves the banana in your face and asks with a mouthful of food, “Wan sum?”

“It’s like you want me to hate you today,” you slap the banana away, which he chuckles at.

Dustin gets both of your attention again with slight annoyance. He didn’t miss the weird flirting between the two of you at all. “Guys, focus. What do you mean the recording sounds familiar?”

“The music,” Steve still speaks with his mouth full. “The music right there at the end.”

“Why are you listening to the music, Steve?” Dustin exclaims, exasperated.

As your brother berates Steve for his lack of Russian translating, you sit up in your seat processing what he’s just previously said. While you hadn’t thought much of it before, now that Steve has pointed it out, the music does sound familiar. You swear you’ve heard it somewhere before, but you can’t remember where or when. It’s a hazy memory, distant in your mind, yet right in front of you. It’s incredibly frustrating.

“I think Steve is onto something,” you say, but the two boys are too busy fighting to hear you.

“I’m trying to listen to the Russian but there’s music–”

Suddenly the back door swings open and Robin appears. She looks agitated after having to man the cash register all by herself while Steve hides out in the breakroom. “Alright, babysitting time is over. You need to get in there.” When she sees that you’ve erased her whiteboard and replaced her “you suck” columns with the Russian alphabet, her agitation only increases. “Hey, my board! That was important data, shitbirds.”

You get up from the table and walk up to the girl, feeling bad. While you aren’t sure what exactly her “you suck” column and tallies were for, it had been her creation that you had erased without thinking to ask. Plus, you really don’t want her seeing the Russian dictionary on the table. “I’m sorry, Robin–”

“Not you, Y/N. You’re not a shitbird,” she points over to Steve and Dustin. “Those two are shitbirds.”

“I guarantee you, what we’re doing is way more important than your data.” Dustin interjects, a smug look on his face that makes you want to scream. He isn’t at all helping the situation.

Robin begins to walk over to the boys and you reluctantly follow. “Yeah? And how do you know these Russians are up to no good anyways?”

Dustin’s jaw drops and Steve almost chokes on his banana. Seeing their stunned reactions of Robin having figured out what you’ve been doing, you sigh in disappointment. They’re such idiots sometimes. They wrote Russian on the whiteboard, out in the open, and have been playing the recording out loud, full volume, on repeat.

Of course Robin caught onto what you were doing.

Which only makes your nervous body tense up even more. You hate that you have to lie to her, you’ve become really close with her during your visits to Scoops, but you don’t want to drag her into anything dangerous. You’re not sure what exactly any of this Russian code means, but Robin has been nothing but kind to you this summer, you truly care about her, and it would kill you if something were to happen because of you.

So, despite knowing how smart Robin is, you try to think of a cover story. “We were just interested in the language. Ya know, a summer hobby.”

“I can hear everything, Y/N.” Robin sees right through your lies. “Your idiotic brother and boyfriend are both extremely loud.”

“Steve isn’t my boyfriend–”

“You three think you have evil Russians plotting against our country, on tape and you’re trying to translate, but haven’t figured out a word because you didn’t realize Russians use an entirely different alphabet than we do.”

You, Steve, and Dustin all look at one another in varying degrees of awe and despair.

Robin, seeing your stunned faces, smiles. “Sound about right?”

“How could you not know about the Russian alphabet, Y/N?” Dustin angrily whispers at you as if somehow it’s your responsibility to know the ins-and-outs of the language.

“Why would I–you know what, no.” You ignore your brother and turn to Robin, trying to alleviate the situation and prevent her from finding out anything else. She’s too fucking smart, it’s both admirable and aggravating. “Look, whatever you think you heard–”

Suddenly Robin lunges for the Russian dictionary on the table, but Steve’s quick reflexes enable him to grab the book before she can. “Woah! What do you think you’re doing?”

“I wanna hear it.” She juts her chin out in defiance, though you see the slightly hurt expression she tries to mask. She hates that you’re purposely excluding her and taking Steve’s side in this.

You wish you could tell her the truth.

“Why?” You ask in unison alongside Steve and Dustin.

“Because maybe I can help. I’m fluent in four languages, ya know.”

Dustin perks up, now more open to the idea of Robin’s involvement. “Russian?”

“Ou-yay are-yay umb-day.”

Steve and Dustin gasp, believing that they’ve just heard Robin say something in Russian, but you know better. One summer, when the party had been especially nosy and insisted on following you and Jonathan around, the two of you had learned pig latin in order to communicate without the twerps eavesdropping.

Learning against the table, you smirk at Robin. “Osay ouyay owknay igpay atinlay.”

“Holy shit!” Dustin gasps and Steve almost falls over with how quickly he looks at you in shock. Both boys stare at you in awe and you almost feel bad for their tiny little brains.

Robin can’t help but smile at you, you somehow always manage to surprise her. “Impressive, Y/N. Didn’t think you knew pig latin either.”

“That was pig latin?” Steve scrunches his face and hits your brother with his banana peel. “Idiot.”

“Steve, please don’t hit my brother with banana peels,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. It’s only noon and you’re already exhausted from today’s events. “But yes, that was pig latin.”

Dustin shoves Steve away from him and focuses on you again. “When did you learn pig latin?”

“The summer you and the party decided to stalk me and Jonathan.” You shrug, though you smile fondly at the memory. It had been a good summer, just the two of you holed up in your room as you quizzed each other on the bizarre language.

Steve, seeing your fondness at the memory, frowns. He doesn’t like the uncomfortable heat that he feels ignite within his stomach at the thought of you still being so fond over Jonathan. He trusts you, he trusts what you have, but he will never feel equal to him.

Robin notices Steve’s brewing insecurity and quickly changes the subject. She doesn’t have time for the usual hormonal drama between the two of you. All she wants right now is to decipher the Russian so that she can catch a break from Erica and her demanding need to try every free sample ever. “Back to the main point: I can speak Spanish and French and Italian, and I’ve been in band for twelve years. My ears are little geniuses, trust me.”

You bite your lip. Truthfully, Robin has the highest chance of unraveling whatever the hell is in the recording. You’re horrible with languages, high school Spanish had nearly killed you, and Steve and Dustin stand no better chance. “Robin…”

“Come on,” she begs. “It’s Steve's turn to sling ice cream and my turn to translate.”

Steve and Dustin turn to you, unanimously agreeing that you’re the leader in this situation; whatever call you make, they’ll listen. Robin sees the conflict on your face and tries one last time. “I don’t even want credit. I’m just bored and wanna hang out with you.”

Your head spins. Robin’s pleading eyes are hard to fight against and you realize that she already knows more than you’d want her to; she’s already a part of it all, whether you like it or not. Sighing, you give in. “Fine, but only if you promise not to ask any questions about whatever we may find.”

“What would I even question?” She asks, unsure why your tone is more foreboding than accepting.

You share a look with Steve and Dustin. The three of you know just how quickly something simple can spiral into chaos in Hawkins. “Just… promise me, okay?”

Robin extends her hand, just happy to finally have something better to do. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

After you shake her hand, she tosses her ice cream scoop to Steve and he hands her the Russian dictionary. Seeing the exchange sends a slight shiver down your spine. You don’t like how much it feels like you’ve just signed Robin’s life away.

–

True to her word, Robin’s ears are little geniuses.

With her helping, you and Dustin are able to speed through the translating as Steve works the register. You’re tasked with writing down the letters that Dustin calls from the whiteboard as Robin listens to the tape over and over again.

“Weird ‘r’ with a hook!” Your brother declares for the last letter.

You write it down and can’t help but frown at the message you’ve seemingly deciphered. Showing the writing to Robin, you ask what she thinks. “Are you sure it was that weird ‘r’ sound?”

“I’m positive,” she says. “C’mon, let’s go tell Steve.”

“Are we sure–” You try to ask her again, but Robin has already made her way to the sliding window and gets Steve’s attention.

“We’ve got our first sentence!”

You make your way over and lean against the window as well. Steve, holding two ice cream cones, seems excited by the news. “Oh, seriously?”

“It’s a hesitant first sentence.” You butt in, still unsure if it’s even correct.

Robin rolls her eyes at you. “Ignore her, I’m right.” Then, clearing her throat, she does an impressive Russian accent. “‘The week is long’.”

Steve’s shoulders slump, clearly having expected something better. “Well that’s thrilling.”

“Told you it was a hesitant first sentence.” Then you turn to Robin. “Nice accent, by the way.”

“Why thank you,” she tips her hat at you before focusing back on Steve. “And I know it isn’t thrilling, but it’s progress!”

And with that, Robin spins around and goes back to the table in the breakroom, eager to decipher more of the code. You’re about to kiss Steve’s cheek and say goodbye, but then your eyes land on a familiar red-haired girl and her friend standing in front of the register. You look down at the ice cream in Steve’s hands and note the familiar order you’ve come to memorize since the mall opened.

“Max? El?” You lean further out the window, pleasantly surprised to see them. “What are you guys doing here? Where’s the rest of the party?”

The girls wave at you and giggle, and you realize now that you’ve never actually seen them alone together before. Normally they’re with Lucas or MIke, so it’s a bit jarring to see them getting along so well without the boys. Jarring, but also very lovely.

“We don’t need those idiots.” Max responds, which makes El giggle even more.

Steve whistles, impressed by Max’s bluntness, and hands them their ice cream. They begin to eat the treat before a thought occurs to him. “Wait a second, are you even allowed to be here?”

You walk through the breakroom and come out the main doors to join Steve at the register. While you’re happy to see Max and El getting along, Steve has a point. Why is El here in such a public space? When you had asked Hopper last month if you could take El to Steve’s graduation, it had taken a whole debate and a fresh batch of cookies in order to convince the old man to let her come.

El is still technically forbidden from being seen in public, and yet here she is: running around Starcourt with Max.

You put your hands on the counter and lean towards the girls. They take a few steps back, now knowing that you’re onto them. “Max, El, what are you up to?”

Their eyes widen while you narrow yours, daring them to lie. Then, quickly glancing at one another, they turn around and run out of Scoops Ahoy, leaving you alone with Steve. You both stand there, dumbfounded.

“I thought I only ever had to worry about the boys.” You whisper, horrified. “The girls were supposed to be the ones I could trust.”

Steve rubs your shoulders and kisses your cheek. “You’re gonna go after them, aren’t you?”

You drop your head and sigh. “Yeah, I am.”

“I’ll tell Robin you had a babysitting emergency.” He presses a kiss to your neck now, which you shiver at, before gently shoving you out from behind the counter. “Good luck, angel.”

Steve’s kisses give you the energy you need to run after Max and El. They’re surprisingly fast as they giggle and trade ice cream cones to share. You call after them as you dodge random people in the mall, but your calls are in vain. They ignore you and continue to skip happily away from you.

“Guys!” When you finally catch up to them, they’re outside standing in front of the bike rack. “Why are you in front of the bikes–oh.”

You see Mike, Lucas, and Will unlocking their bikes from the rack as they bicker over something. Faintly you hear Mike and Lucas arguing about splitting money while Will is silent.

There’s a tension between the girls and boys that you now take note of. Normally El would have already been wrapped around Mike’s arms, but she remains by your side as Max approaches the boys. “Well, isn’t this a nice surprise?”

When Mike sees El, he drops his bike in shock. “What are you doing here?”

“Shopping.” El says as she glares at the boy.

You’ve never seen her so cold towards someone. It’s kind of frightening, honestly. “Oh, Wheeler, what did you do?”

“What did I do? No, what did you do? You’re the one who is letting her walk around Starcourt where everyone can see her!” Mike shrieks, always finding ways to blame you for his own problems.

You scoff. “Hey, I’ve only known about this for like, a second longer than you have.”

“Sure, likely story.”

“Have you ever considered not pissing off your girlfriend?”

“Have you ever considered getting a better boyfriend than Harrington?”

“Okay–”

Max steps in between you and Mike, annoyed. “Both of you shut up!” She waves her hand over El’s outfit and tries to turn the conversation around. “This is El’s new style. What do you think?”

“I think she looks nice–”

Mike cuts you off. “What’s wrong with you? You know she’s not allowed to be here.”

“What is she, your little pet?”

El clenches her jaw. “Yeah. Am I your pet?”

“What? No!” Mike denies, equally as confused as you are.

You’re not quite sure how you ended up in this situation.

“Then why do you treat me like garbage?” El questions the boy.

You frown at this and subtly step towards Lucas, desperately hoping for some clarification. “Did I miss something?”

“It’s a long story.” He sighs, and you now realize that Max must be angry with him, too.

El continues to interrogate Mike, and you almost feel bad for the boy. “You said Nana was sick.”

“She is! She is sick.” Mike lies through his teeth. You think about what Hopper told you earlier, how he had said some things to get Mike away from El, and you suppose now that it had involved some type of lie about the kid’s grandma.

Then Mike shoves at Lucas to get him to play along as well. Reluctantly he echoes his friend, though you know he’s aware that he’s only making this worse for himself. “She’s super sick, that’s why we’re here, actually.”

Mike is quick to follow along. “Yeah, we’re shopping! Not for us, but for her, for Nana.”

You catch Will’s eyes, who has remained silent this entire time, and he shakes his head at you in disappointment. You look back at Mike and Lucas now, unamused. “Nana isn’t sick, is she?”

“She is! But…” Mike fumbles over his words now. “We’re also here to get a gift for El. We just–we couldn’t find anything that suited her and I only have like, $3.50, so it’s hard.”

“It’s expensive… Had we known you were at the mall we would’ve asked you for money.” Lucas mumbles, which you flick his forehead at. “Ow, Y/N!”

El looks between Lucas and Mike, her eyes showing her hurt. “You lie.” When neither boy says anything, her hurt only grows and her voice wavers with tears. “Why do you lie?”

Again, El’s words are met with silence. Mike looks down, too ashamed to meet her eyes, and you shift uncomfortably, feeling even worse for the kid. You hadn’t expected to witness an awkward relationship feud today, and it wasn’t all entirely his fault. You know that Hopper played a role in this.

Later, when you have the time, you’re definitely going to yell at the police chief about this.

As the silence drags on, the local bus that drives everyone in Hawkins to Starcourt now arrives in the parking lot. Hearing its brakes hiss, El looks behind her and seems to make up her mind about something. Her face is stony as she approaches Mike and her words are laced with venom. “I dump your ass.”

You and Max gasp, though yours is more from shock and Max is more from being impressed.

Mike’s face falls and El whips around and begins walking towards the bus. Max follows, waving goodbye to you, and you’re left to deal with the unfortunate outcome of this bizarre situation.

Laughing nervously, you awkwardly pat Mike’s back. “You’ll… Uh, fix this, right?”

Mike slaps your hand away and marches back towards his bike. His shoulders droop and he looks tired from all he’s had to deal with today. Lucas doesn’t look any better and silently follows after his friend. Will is the only one who remains, and he drops his head to your chest and groans. “I just wanted to play DnD today.”

“I know, little bee.” You scratch his head and try to console him. “But sometimes life gets in the way. Right now Mike and Lucas need you, do you think you could help them?”

Will looks up at you. “I don’t know… Maybe, I guess.”

“Do what you can,” you kiss his forehead, wishing you could do more for him. All he’s wanted to do all summer is be a kid again, but his peers are growing older and leaving him behind. It isn’t anyone’s fault. “I gotta go, buddy. But I promise you and I will do something this week, just the two of us, okay?”

He nods, content with this, and you ruffle his hair before heading back inside to Scoops.

–

Hours later, you, Steve, Dustin, and Robin all uncover the rest of the Russian code.

You stand with your back against Steve’s chest as he has his arms draped loosely over you. Robin and Dustin stand to your left as you all face the whiteboard that has the message written on it, reading it out loud.

“‘The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west’.”

There’s a pause as you all take in the bizarre message. You’re extremely doubtful that it’s right. The order of the words is too abstract to possibly be purposeful. It just doesn’t make any sense.

“Are we sure this is right?” You ask the group, knowing no one else will utter the doubt that settles over the room. Steve tightens his arms around you and shrugs.

“It has to be.” Dustin mumbles, though even he looks unsure.

Robin sighs. “Well, whether or not we’re right, dingus and I have to close up shop.”

Steve groans but reluctantly lets go of you so that he can help Robin with closing. While the two teens wash the ice cream scoopers and put away the remaining ice cream, you sit with Dustin at one of the booths.

“Maybe it’s a code?”

“Dustin, we just translated a foreign language. Thinking it’s a code seems like a cop-out, honestly.” You rest your head in your hands and watch Steve count the money in the register. Feeling your eyes on him, he looks up and winks at you. Blushing, you look back at your brother. “We probably just translated it wrong.”

“My ears are right! We didn’t translate anything wrong!” Robin shouts from across the store.

Dustin perks up. “See? We have to assume we’re onto something.”

You bite your lip, still unsure, but leave the topic alone for now. There’s no point arguing with Dustin and Robin because it’s not like any of you can just ask a native Russian speaker who is correct. If it somehow ends up being a hidden code, then you’ll apologize to Robin’s ears later.

It’s quiet in the parlor after that, but when Steve and Robin have finished closing and he pulls the gate down to lock up the store before you all go home, Steve can’t help but bring the subject up again. “I mean–it’s just, it can’t be right.”

“It’s right.” Robin affirms once more, and Dustin nods at her appreciatively.

“Honesty, I think it’s great news.”

Steve walks next to you as the four of you slowly head towards the mall’s exit. It’s late, you’re tired from your long day of translating the Russian language, and you’re ready to go to bed. Then, as if somehow knowing the exhaustion that weighs upon you, you feel Steve slip his hand into yours. His fingers are warm and the touch soothes you as he gently guides the two of you.

“How is this great news?” Steve asks your brother. “I mean, so much for being American heroes. It’s total nonsense.”

“The goal isn’t to be American heroes, dummy.” You chide, tugging at your hands to make sure he looks at you and listens. “We aren’t still going to follow this, are we?”

Dustin rolls his eyes at you both. “It’s not nonsense, it’s too specific and obviously a code. And yes we’re going to keep following this. We’re onto something, I can feel it!”

“All I feel right now is a crippling migraine forming,” you groan, rubbing at your temples.

Steve kisses your head in concern, feeling bad that he’s kept you out so late. However, he also really, really would love to become someone important. Someone worthy of his dad’s favor, so he follows after Dustin, curious despite it all. “What do you mean a code?”

“Like a super secret spy code.”

“That’s a total stretch.”

You snort. “That’s what I said, but no. Why should we ever listen to Y/N? It’s not like she’s always right in the end.”

Robin winces, afraid to annoy you further, but she can’t help but agree with Dustin. “I don’t know, is it really a stretch?”

“No, please don’t tell me you believe my brother.” You’re betrayed, hurt even, that Robin would succumb to Dustin’s fantasies.

Normally you’re all for believing your brother, but Russians in Hawkins leaving a hidden code in a radio frequency that can be accessed by the public? You may have fought alternate dimension monsters and you may know a girl with mind control powers, but even this feels far fetched.

“Listen, just for kicks, let’s entertain the possibility that it is a secret Russian transmission. What’d you think they were gonna say, ‘fire the warhead at noon’?” Robin raises her eyebrows at you.

“Well… no.” You slump your shoulders, knowing that she has a point. “But–”

“Just admit we’re right, Y/N.” Dustin says, annoyed.

Robin turns to you and almost groans when she sees your hand intertwined with Steve’s. Her voice falters for a moment at the sight, but she clears her throat and carries on with the conversation. “And my translation is correct. I know that for sure, so… ‘the silver cat feeds’. Why would anyone talk like that unless they’re trying to mask the meaning of their message?”

Dustin is next to her now, hanging onto her every word as you and Steve lag behind. “Exactly!”

“It is a weird phrase,” you mumble under your breath, and Steve can’t help but chuckle at how endearing you are when you try to play the reasonable role. It’s never any use, you’re everything that hope and optimism embodies; it’s adorable.

Robin sees that you’re close to giving in and begins to ramble now. “Why would anyone mask the true meaning of their message unless the message was somehow sensitive?” Again Dustin agrees with everything she says and Steve shrugs his shoulders while all you do is sigh in defeat. Looking at your brother, Robin concludes, “Guess that confirms your suspicions.”

“Evil Russians.”

“Okay, no.” You step between them now. “What if they’re just, like, really shy Russians who want some privacy? Why do we always jump to the evil conclusion?”

Dustin shoulders you to get you to shut up, and you shove him back, starting a small spat between the two of you. He hits your shoulder, you hit his stomach, and Steve watches with amusement while Robin stares in horror.

“Do we stop them?” She asks the teen.

Steve shakes his head. “I’ve learned that it’s best to just let them fight it out. It’s been a month, they’re behind on their fist fighting schedule.”

“I heard that!” You quickly say to him before yanking Dustin’s shirt to get him off of your back.

Seeing your struggle, Robin forces your brother off of you and holds him by his arms so that he doesn’t jump on you again. Dustin complains, but quickly shuts up at what Robin says. “Focus! I’m trying to tell you that I agree with you, this is totally evil Russians.”

Dustin stops struggling against her, now elated at the idea of defeating evil foreigners. “So how do we crack it?”

You were scared that Robin and Dustin wouldn’t get along, but as you watch them bounce schemes off of one another and plan an evil Russian take down, you’re now terrified of the friendship brewing between them. It’s worse than Steve with Dustin; Robin is just as cunning as your brother is.

She thinks for a moment. “I guess we translate the rest and hopefully a pattern emerges.”

“Have we ever considered a game plan for after poking our noses where they don’t belong?” Dustin and Robin both glare at you and you hold your hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying.”

“Ignore her, Robin. She likes to pretend she’s the rational one in these types of situations.” Dustin whispers to her, which you roll your eyes at. Steve kisses your cheek as a way to console you as your brother continues to speak. “Anyways, maybe the ‘silver cat’ is a meeting place?”

“Or a person.” Robin theorizes.

“Or a weapon.”

As the two of them come up with insane theories about what the code could mean, you notice that Steve is no longer by your side. Turning around, you find him stopped at one of the carousel horses meant for little kids. He’s bent over it, examining it. You frown, unsure what he’s doing, and walk over to him.

Resting a hand against his back, you lean down next to him. “Can I ask what we’re looking at here, honey?” He’s mumbling under his breath and digging through his pockets for something. Now you’re starting to get concerned. “Steve?”

“I need–do you have a quarter?”

“No?” You’re even more concerned now. Placing the back of your hand against his forehead, you check his temperature. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Sure you’re tall enough for that ride?” Robin quips as she and Dustin now join.

“Quarter!” Steve demands, nearly falling over as he tries to catch the one that she tosses him. When he catches it he quickly pushes the coin into the machine’s slot, bringing it to life. Music begins to play as the horse moves back and forth. It’s ominous, almost, in the mall’s dim lighting with no one else around.

Steve listens intently to the music, his face concentrated as if trying to understand something. As the music continues to play, you can’t help but feel that it sounds familiar. It reminds you of something, maybe a distant memory that you can’t quite recall. Wanting to understand more, you lean in close to the machine as well and mirror Steve’s actions. “The music…”

“They’ve both lost it,” Dustin mumbles when he sees that you’re also now analyzing a stupid carousel horse.

“Y/N, you helping little Stevie up onto the ride?” Robin laughs at her own joke, but you swat at her to shush her.

As the song plays once more, it finally clicks. Your mind flashes back to your conversation with him earlier in the break room as you kept replaying the Russian recording over and over again. It’s the same song. With a gasp, you throw your arms around Steve’s neck and begin kissing his face over and over again. “You’re a genius!”

Steve leans into your kisses and smiles at the praise, relieved that you don’t think he’s some idiot. Though his heart is beating wildly, he clears his throat and shrugs as if it isn’t a big deal. “I have my moments.”

“Care to share with the class, dinguses?”

Robin’s voice startles you, having momentarily forgotten where you were. Blushing, you pull away from Steve and clear your throat as well and act as if you weren’t just drowning the boy in kisses. “Listen to the song, guys.”

The seriousness of your tone causes Dustin to finally listen to the music as well. It only takes him a few seconds to piece together what you and Steve already have. “Holy shit. The music.”

“The music.” You confirm with pride, still incredibly amazed that Steve managed to remember such a small yet crucial detail. Since coming to befriend him, you’ve come to admire just how perceptive he is. Sure, he may not be a math whiz, but his emotional and creative intelligence leaves you in awe every time you see it. He’s smarter than anyone gives him credit for.

You wish his father saw this intelligence within him. Honestly, you wish more people did.

Dustin yanks his backpack off of his shoulder and starts rustling through it as he searches for something. When he finds his tape recorder, he starts to play the Russian transmission again. Hearing the audio and carousel play simultaneously side by side, it only confirms what Steve has long since figured out: it’s the same song.

Not being able to help yourself, you again kiss Steve’s cheek, giddy and proud of him. “You’re brilliant.”

He preens while Robin scrunches her nose, unsure why you’re all over the guy because of some song. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s the exact same song on the recording.” Dustin explains to her.

“Maybe they have horses like this in Russia?”

You nod at her. “Maybe? We should look into who produces these machines, it could be our new lead.”

Steve shakes his head. “‘Indiana Flyer’? I don’t… I don’t think so.”

Something seems to shift within his voice and his face now twists with slight fear. He looks as if he’s realized something awful, and you feel your own joy from earlier vanish. A chill runs through you, the same awful feeling of dread that once overwhelmed you when Will originally disappeared now courses through you again.

“What is it?” You softly ask Steve, already bracing yourself for the worst.

He frowns at the apprehension in your voice and the worried crease between his brows makes you want to smooth away the concern. You know he doesn’t want to scare you, that he’s always trying to make things easier for you, so you tilt your head at him and nod slightly; you want him to tell you. Seeing your unspoken permission, he sighs. “This code, it… didn’t come from Russia. It came from here.”

You, Robin, and Dustin all look at one another. Fear settles over the group, you can feel its heavy weight like an old, familiar friend.

“Why does everything happen in Hawkins?” You say to no one in particular, still trying to process what this all means.

Dustin sighs and Steve drops his head.

Somehow, you always end up here.

–

Steve offers to drive you and Dustin home after seeing how shaken up you are by the latest Russian revelation. Tired and exhausted and terrified as usual, you accept.

It takes some trial and error, but eventually he and your brother manage to fit your bikes in the back of the BMW.

The drive to your house is filled with awkward banter between Steve and Dustin. You sit quietly in the passenger seat as the two boys try to make light of the situation, but not even their jokes can lessen the fear that creeps into the car; none of you are sure what to make of all of this.

When Steve pulls up to your house, all that you’ve managed to do the entire car ride is make a mental note to call Jonathan about everything later. It’s not your best plan, you wish that there was more you could do, but at the very least you know that he and Nancy can help.

Dustin scrambles out of the car, desperate to escape the tension within it. “See you tomorrow, Steve!” He calls behind him before slamming the car door shut.

You snort softly at your brother, finally moving to unbuckle your own seatbelt, before Steve places his hand on yours and stops you. He’s noticed how quiet you’ve been the entire car ride and the way your eyes have clouded over with fear. He hates it. “Do me a favor?”

“Yes?” You blink at him, unsure what he could want at this hour. It’s late and your mom expects you home soon.

“Leave your window unlocked for me.” He winks at you, trying to play coy, but you see the genuine concern for you hidden beneath his actions.

You can’t help but smile; it feels as if you can breathe again. “Steve Harrington, why should I leave my window unlocked for you?”

Your smile sends a warmth through Steve’s chest as relief washes over him. He’s doing something right. He’s gotten you to smile. “Because I’m planning on sneaking in after I park my car a few blocks down so your mom won’t see me.”

Though you know what he had been implying, hearing him say the words out loud causes a wild blush to burn across your cheeks and your stomach to swoop. Steve has never done this before, sneaking into your room like some lovestruck teenager late at night, it’s been the one boundary neither of you have crossed before.

“I suppose I can do that.” You say with an air of indifference, which Steve rolls his eyes at. “Strictly friendly, of course.”

“Oh, of course.”

You giggle, finally unbuckling your seatbelt, and you exit the car after kissing the boy’s cheek. His face is warm against your lips and you’re coming to memorize the way your nose presses against the indent of his cheek bones.

When you get inside, your mom is knitting on the couch while Tews sits in her lap. She greets you with a smile and you compliment the scarf she’s making. “I’m sure it’ll be perfect for this winter, mom.”

She thanks you and wishes you a good night, noticing the bags underneath your eyes with slight concern. Inside your room, you quickly clear away the scattered pieces of paper on your desk and arrange your bedding so that it isn't strewn across the room. Steve has been in your room a million times now, and yet you can’t help but feel like tonight is different for some reason.

True to his word, within ten minutes Steve is knocking on your window. Hearing the quiet way his knuckles rap against the glass makes your heart jump in your stomach. Your body practically buzzes as you go to open the window, eager to have him close to you.

“Took you long enough,” you tease, opening the window wide enough for him to crawl through.

Steve pulls himself up with ease, his biceps strain against his Scoops Ahoy uniform, and you’ve never been more thankful for corporate policy. “Sorry, angel. Came here as fast as I could.”

You tug at his shirt and the two of you are falling into your bed. He lands on you with a soft thud and your body has long since become accustomed to his weight. As his body settles upon yours, it feels like coming home. You exhale deeply, wrapping your arms around his body, and Steve nuzzles his face into your neck and presses a gentle kiss there.

Everything swirling violently within your head now stills. The constant onslaught of worries and doubts finally quiets, and you know that despite it all, at least you have Steve.

“We’ll figure it out, ya know.” Steve’s lips move against the skin of your neck as he speaks, making you shiver slightly at the sensation.

“I know,” you start to play with his hair, needing something to do with your hands as you speak. “But… How many times are we going to keep doing this? Be the only people in Hawkins aware of what’s going on?”

Steve is silent for a few moments, allowing your words to sink in. He rolls them around in his head, he knows that the question isn’t one that comes from doubt of what he and the others are capable of. You don’t lack faith, you lack the willingness to constantly place the ones you love at risk. It just isn’t in your nature.

“As many times as needed.” He pauses again, unsure how to express to you his certainty that you’re capable of so much with all the love within you. If there’s anyone in this shitty town who is a real American hero, it’s you. “I mean, after everything we’ve been through these last two years, measly Russians are no big deal. We’ve fought worse monsters than Communism.”

You laugh, he always somehow gets you to laugh, and the sound is as angelic to Steve as your eyes are to him. He tightens his arms around you and relishes in the way your body presses against his, how he can feel your body move with every inhale of your laugh.

Then, slowly, your laughter dies down. Reality settles upon you once more and you want to believe Steve, you do, and you try to reassure yourself that he’s right… but something feels off about this. You can’t exactly articulate what it is, but there's this haze of uncertainty that you’ve never quite felt before; a vulnerability that leaves you feeling cold in his arms.

Sensing your fear rising up again, Steve tries to distract you by changing the subject. “Speaking of monsters, I recruited the little heathens to help with your birthday gift.”

The change of subject works. You raise your head and look at the teen. “You mean the party? You got them to help with a gift for me?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, Y/N.” Steve butts his head against your chin playfull. “I can make them listen to me… sometimes.”

You stare at him, knowing he’s full of shit. “Go on, tell me all about how you got them to listen to you.”

He tries to hold your gaze, refusing to back down, but he cracks after only a few seconds. “Okay, fine. It took a lot of pleading and I now owe a bunch of pre-teens money.”

A loud, full body laugh escapes your lips, and Steve laughs with you. The two of you hold one another and feel each other laugh, chests rising with glee. For a moment you feel okay again, forgetting everything else for now. You’re carefree in this moment, feeling like a little kid again, something only Steve can do to you.

When your laughs die down, you and Steve quietly lay together. No other words manage to find their way in the dark of your room, all that needs to be said has been laid to rest. His warm breaths hit the base of your neck as your nails scratch against his scalp. While you feel safe in his arms, there’s still so much that needs to be said.

Staring at the ceiling of your room, you see faint threads and strings and lines that you thought you put to rest that night in Jonathan’s room this winter. Now, they’re back again, only this time it’s a different boy within your arms. Something akin to doubt creeps in.

Steve already has all of you, you told him you’d wait, but what if you’ve missed your chance again with him like you did with Jonathan? When June began, Steve promised that you had all summer together. He calls you angel and tells you stories to fall asleep to on the phone, and yet the threads that glow above you taunt you.

You love him, you do, but you’re terrified that whatever the two of you uncover with the Russians will somehow pry you apart.

Just like Will’s disappearance had pried Jonathan away from you two years ago.

July looms over you and summer is going by faster than you thought it would. The promise of summer, one that usually leaves the nostalgic taste of honey on your tongue, now threatens to choke you.

As if having a mind of their own, your arms tighten even more around Steve, almost as if somehow you can shield what the two of you have from the dangers within Hawkins.

You hope it’s enough.

-

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#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #nya #m's writing #this one foreshadows loooooads #like so much #i feel so sneaky

[chaosandmarigolds]

you can skip this all u want but

I wanna know abt readers ex ngl

why does Ollie have attachment issues?

you seem like you could do soft angst, 👻

(I audibly giggled like a maniac when I opened this, because angst has my heart. it has my HEART- only when it ends in fluff tho, otherwise someone might as well just shove me in a ditch it feels the same- ahem, sorry, got sidetracked)

Let’s do a lil flashback and backstory to this whole…debacle shall we?

May 20th

“Annnn then we got get- got get, noo-no! Ister Riley no,” Ollie grumbles as he reaches over the block castle he had spent the last twenty minutes building to grab the toy Simon was holding- a tyrannosaurus, or as Ollie called him- The Superman. The little boy fixes the doll cape attached to the toy and then holds it back out, “Otay, is fix.”

Simon nods, “Good good, he needs to have his-his-“

“The cape gives him powers.”

“Oh!” Simon agrees and looks at the worn out toy, the cape like it would be found on an actual Superman toy but put on a dinosaur. He only looks back to Ollie as the boy goes on about grabbing the rest of the toys he thought they should have.

“Yeah, that what my daddy tell me. That-that my superhero cape make me have superpowers.” A short silence and he sets the toy fire truck down along with a tow truck, “It no give me power, but it does for Bo though.”

(Bo, the name of the T-Rex.)

Simon looks at the boy, watching his demeanor change and he holds how the toy, “‘ell your dad was right, Bo does have some super cool powers.”

To that Ollie takes the toy and then shrugs, “I guess. But my dad- he-he lies and you say lying is not good.”

“Ladd I’m sure your dad didn’t lie,” Simon returned, it was just a toy, and he couldn’t see the harm in letting a three year old believe in superpowers for his plastic T-Rex.

Ollie shakes his head, “But he do! He said he come back for-for my birthday and no come, he didn’t-he lie.”

“Oi, Olls, ‘m sure your dad wanted to come, he just couldn’t-

“My mom doesn’t like him anymore, I heard her talk to my Auntie Beth and she said my dad is lair and mean- so that mean he not good.”

Simon, upon a lot of other things, realized that little kids really did share anything that came to their mind. and that he should definitely do some more research.

July 2nd

“It is-“ you laugh out a sigh as you stumble into the entrance of Simon’s house, having left your umbrella outside, “Raining cats and dogs out there!”

Almost as it had fallen into some odd and domestic pattern, he helped you take off the coat and hang it off without much speaking and you then look to him as you take off your boots, “Thank you for watching him later, I didn’t know I would be working a double and it-“

“No problem, darling. Lil’ guy was out by seven.” He cut you off and hung up the coat beside Ollie’s on the rack, which hung beside his own, “You go’ dinner al’eady?”

You hum and stand back up, “Are you offering?”

“Aren’t I always?”

Dinner was a delicacy of dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets and oven cooked fries, matched with a hearty portion of sprite. And about an hour of what you would consider you yapping about your crappy day, and what he would consider it favorite part of the day- you finally faltered, leaning on the dinner table with a dull and lifeless laugh.

“I feel like…I owe you, god, I owe you my life or something.”

He furrows his eyebrows to that, “No’ why? ‘M no doing anything special.”

You give him a look, “Free babysitting for one. Not to mention the rides, you-you pay for him to go to soccer, and you go to the games and you buy him clothes and you love him and you care for him and-“ you cut yourself off and look up to stop the tears- which were threatening to flow, shaking your head, “I’m sorry. I’m…it’s just- no, it’s just been a day.”

Now, Simon was many things, a merciless killer and a solider was one of them but he always knew how to read body language. What really gave it away was how you messed with your ring finger, as if you were twisting a nonexistent ring, “What’s today?”

A glance up to him and you give a dull laugh, almost mocking yourself with your words, “I got married five years ago today. Wore the pretty dress and said ‘I do’ to a man that was a piece of shit but damn….i loved him. I did. I loved him so- and I’m, god, Simon you gotta tell me to shut up sometimes.”

He looks at you, and he knew you couldn’t read him, but there was sadness etched in his expression, “I never want you to shut up, luv.”

( That’s all the backstory you get for right now! Aka, I am doing this on my phone and my thumbs hurt…and all I’ve thought of rn- comments, feedback, and your ideas make my day!! Annnnyway that’s it! <33)

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x you #cod x you #simon riley x reader #cod fluff #coco's chaos <3 #coco’s rambles #coco’s pre k universe! <3 #dad!ghost #dad!simon riley #dad simon riley #simon fluff #simon x reader #cod fanfic #simon riley #ghost x female reader

[olderthannetfic]

Hey. Maybe not the place. But people treat your ask box like a forum so 🙏 I thought I was ace because porn does nothing for me and I only like erotica/doujinshi if I like the characters. But I recently discovered watching wrestling does something for me. Is this really weird? How do I know where I fit?

--

I will gleefully embrace the identity of basement-dwelling gremlin who prefers horny fiction to actually dating or having sex with other people.

But porn tastes aren't what defines sexual orientation.

Neither is willingness to get off the couch.

Are you attracted to people, anon? That's usually how people define the various identities on that spectrum: no attraction, very occasional attraction way below what's seen as commonplace, attraction only when you know someone well, etc. (Which, of course, brings up the question of what level is "normal" and whether someone's judging based on Hollywood nonsense or on what's actually typical.)

For me personally, mainstream porno movies have actors I find un-hot wearing clothing I find libido-killing in ugly environments with bad lighting and camerawork. The scenarios lack the psychological depth needed to interest me, and there's little sense of intimacy.

This has nothing to do with orientation and everything to do with film craft.

Doujinshi of characters I'm already familiar with have a lot more context for what's going on, and this can add a lot of zing to kinks or increase the apparent intimacy.

Wrestling has plotlines. It has deeply charismatic stars. It has different body types than a lot of porn. There's nothing odd about finding it hot but not liking the porno movies you've been exposed to.

Plenty of people prefer all of the horny film festival favorites of the 90s to actual porno movies. It seems like funding dried up for those kinds of movies for a decade or two, but they used to be common.

I preferred the kinkier ones. Crash, for example, was a staple of my teenage viewing. Not the cringey one that won too many awards: the pervert one with the eight billion scenes of people licking each other's scars like they were performing oral.

It really digs into the psychology of kink... in addition to being far more visually beautiful and starring far hotter people than most of the commercial porn I've seen. Same deal with The Pillow Book or ¡Átame! or Maurice or Bound.

I've been seeing articles lately talking about a return to 90s levels of sex in arty movies. People point to the likes of Call Me By Your Name and Saltburn.

Live action commercial porno movies do vary, obviously, but it's just so, so, so common to find them tacky or boring while liking other forms of porn, even other live action sex scenes.

Hell, even for poorly shot stuff, I've never seen even amateur porn capture the vibes of this one long-deleted youtube video of a guy giving a lecture on anal massage and treating his subject like a prop while lecturing to a big group of onlookers.

--

Sometimes, people just aren't very into casual sex, and horny art where they can fantasize about people who actually know each other is better than horny art about the pizza delivery guy. Sure, there are pornos that try to have more plot, but porn stars are generally good at being porn stars, not at subtle and naturalistic acting.

Wrestlers are hardly subtle, but they do do different acting from your average porno, and there's more continuing plotline. Unless you mean... like... college wrestling? (In which case, Kink.com has or had some series where people wrestle to decide who gets to top. Wrestling is hardly a niche interest.)

For kinksters, the context and psychology often matter a lot. Showing an object with a lot of cultural baggage, like shiny black leather, can be hot, but the viewer might need more, and your average porno isn't geared up to provide that.

--

Anyway, if you want to determine your own orientation, your interest in art isn't necessarily going to help that much.

If you're only rarely attracted to people, and you have to know them well first, you could be demisexual, but you could equally well be shy or nervous or depressed or repressed or too busy and stressed to spend much time noticing your own feelings—or just surrounded by people who aren't your type. Only your personal interpretation of your internal experience can determine which it is.

But no, being horny for wrestling is not weird.

[zoropookie]

HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter twenty-six — br(ok)en (💋)

You stared at your phone light up for the twelfth time within five minutes with a dull expression.

Admittedly, you felt angrier knowing that Scaramouche still had the audacity to even text you after everything. After tormenting you for years and years, what kind of shame should someone feel after that, you wonder. The relentless pursuit of making your life miserable—to which he failed at, but it did make you wonder.

Did you do something to deserve it? Each notification felt like another jab that he took to the heart, reopening your wounds from each time he said something messed up to you. As you laid there motionless, with no light ruminating in the room except your phone, you began to feel tears well up in your eyes for the thirteenth time today.

Pursing your lips, you swiped up to read the messages and only felt reminded even further of every harsh word he said. Every cruel taunt, every moment of humiliation...and yet...

He was still right, despite being the biggest hypocrite known to man. And it pissed you off.

Why were you even laying here? Ignoring the world, rotting here like you're a vegetable. You knew that you were something to people, you knew that you were valued.

There wasn’t anything that was particularly motivating for you to get up, however. You ignored every need that you could have possibly wanted, subjecting yourself to sparseness. No matter how much you wanted to, the thoughts always came back and you didn’t know how to deal with them.

A small knock echoed from the front door. It was loud enough to hear, and you still shoved your head in the pillow and hoped it went away.

The longer time you went without answering it, the knocks became more frequent. It wasn’t Thoma, that’s who you could observe without getting up.

You finally managed to drag yourself out of bed, lazing about sounded so much nicer now that you were dreading who’s at the door. With a frustrated sigh, and irritation already to its peak of your heart, you opened the door to a familiar-ish face.

Little girl?

“Did you forget that you exist?” She said with a smile. “Welcome back to Earth! I didn’t know how long you’d be cooped up in here so I brought treats.”

You stared a bit longer than you meant to at the Tupperware of Asafiri in her hands, momentarily taken aback. “Heh?”

“Yanfei sent me here. Looks like you’re having a little bit of trouble getting back on your feet. I take it you know her?” She inquired.

“Yeah.” You blinked slowly, before holding the door a little wider. “Uh…come in, I guess. Thanks for the…treats.” You cringed. “Wow, I get why Heizou keeps being called a creep now, this can look so wrong.”

“The difference is that he does it to himself.”

The warm water on your body was oddly refreshing.

Getting out of the shower was harder knowing that you'd come back to the gust of wind in your living room, but knowing you had fresher pajamas on was also a plus. Things didn't look too great on your mental, especially since you were accustomed to showering a lot in your fresher mind.

You put on the Lightning McQueen slippers you quite often wear, and moved to the kitchen after hearing soft chops of a knife. You wondered what Nahida was up to, staring at her cut apples and bananas before putting them into a huge bowl she found in your cupboard.

"This is a very odd fruit salad you're making." You drew attention to yourself before her eyebrows furrowed. "I don't know whether or not to tell you to be careful with knives."

"I'm smarter than you think I am." Nahida cooed. "I'm used to people being condescending."

"Oh...I'm sorry— You're killing me here, kid. Lady? Are you a child or not?" You asked desperately.

Nahida turned to you, her saturated green eyes stared at you with obviously deliberate thoughts roaming her head before she took a sharp breath. She pointed the knife at you. "Do you feel better?"

"Not...really? I mean, it happened. All of this at once." You tried to process it quicker, but your head failed you. It's like how you actually felt in the moment was blocked. "I feel like I'm in limbo, I don't want to see the sun these days."

"Your thoughts are your biggest enemy right now. Easy to overthink. It's a lot to deal with on your own, good thing you aren't, right?" Nahida lowered the knife, her expression softening. "I cut you up some fresh fruit. It's better than the Asafiri for now, you don't need that much sugar after not eating for a while, or you'll crash hard. And get a headache."

Looking at the bowl loaded with bananas and slices of apples, you couldn't help but wonder why you were even granted this much care anyway. You were in mild disbelief, sitting down at the island counter in front of Nahida. "Why are you actually here?" You said in defeat.

Nahida stopped cutting the fruit, gaze shifting from it to you. She couldn't find what she could say to answer you, but she did press her lips together. "Do you want me to be honest?"

"A little." Your voice lowered.

"Yanfei and Heizou," Nahida paused, trying to find her words, "They wanted to see if I could convince you to start streaming again."

You frowned immediately. "Oh. Thanks for being honest."

"You made progress today, but I don't expect you to be up to it. It's a really big step." She asked you, but you couldn't even decipher the intentions behind her eyes. It was impossible to detect what anybody was thinking nowadays. "They just told me to come over so they can hope their investigation moves."

You sighed, leaning back in your chair once you felt the bitterness course your body again. Hearing that made your mood possibly worse than what it would've been if you were in bed. "Not happening. Thanks for checking on me though, you can leave if you want."

"I knew you'd say that. I guess it's fair, people are...going crazy right now figuring out whether you're okay or not." Nahida smiled once you looked back up at her. "Both Scaramouche and your fans are trying to get anything they can on your wellbeing. It's better to wait it out."

Your hopeful face turned into a sullen one, shoulders slumped at the mention of his name. "I don't know if I can even go back at all."

"I'm not sure how hard this is for you, but with what happened, you've obviously been through enough. While it's your choice to go back, Yanfei is under the impression that you can get revenge." The shorter girl explained. "In my eyes, though...I think you're able to decide that for yourself."

You felt the weight of the memories heavily, your head daunting enough for you to let out a shaky breath. "You think so?"

Nahida nodded, humming, "You don't have to stream, but don't give him the satisfaction if you're upset. You shouldn't let him know that you're suffering because of what he did. The worst thing that you can do is prove him right."

Funnily enough, as soon as she said that, you felt tears well up in your eyes again. It struck a cord, and you knew she was right. It was just knowing that anybody would say it verbatim. "That's the same thing he told me too." You blinked back your tears, more resilient than you were a few minutes ago, but also to the brim of misery.

"He?"

You shook your head, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. "Thanks," You muttered, choking on your words. You couldn't manage to say anything else, otherwise you'd betray your steely posture. "I'll think about it. Just...stay here a little more with me, please. Maybe I'll...find the resolve or something."

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo

@justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @kunisnaomi

@keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi

@kyon-cherri @b4tm4nn @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles

@kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @amvpk01 @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3

@alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith

@kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan

@yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123

@strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway

@agaygothicmushroom @levianamor @dragontammerz @wth121 @lylovw

@morgyyyyyyy @lovemari @suniika @melpomenelurks @liuaneee

@franaby @tiddieshakeshownu (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

#zoropookie #hhab #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin #genshin impact #genshin smau #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin x you #genshin x yn #scaramouche x yn #scaramouche x you

[cheriladycl01]

My love, is mine all mine - Max Verstappen x Norris! Reader x Charles Leclerc Part 5

Plot: Norris' Twin sister is also a driver in the 2021 line up and is in her rookie era. Not only do the commentators struggle to now talk about the pair in the race, but they also struggle to talk about talent. What happens when two drivers find her eye-catching.

A/N: I've brought Luisia into things because of the timeline and it being 2021. Don't hate on her, or the fact that i've brought her into my writing please!

Credit to countingstars-17 for the GIF

Charles stayed on the yacht with you all for a few days. He ended up sharing a room with you in the two single beds.

You spoke all night… every night and for the most part it was pretty platonic. But there was some wavering moments where he was looking at you for extended period of time. Or you’d accidentally looked from his eyes to his lips and back to his eyes and he’d shifted in the bed.

But nothing more than that, you’d gone around Monaco sightseeing and shopping and Lando finally told everyone he had a girlfriend. Which was a massive shock to the media.

You guys continued your holiday. Charles left, about two weeks before you and Lando. You had spa days with Luisa and then you would all go to the club at night.

But there was one night, one to the end where Max and Pietra had come from London and you were kind of the odd one out. The only one on their own.

So you danced with as many random people as you could. Some random guys who were probably twice your age, some respectable young Monacan bachelors and even just big groups of girls who were all there for fun.

You were happily at the bar having a really loud conversation with the waiter about your life and everything that had been happening in the last few months.

He seemed genuinely really interested but that could have been all the alcohol you’d drank.

“So then … Max you know Max right?” You say with wide eyes to the waiter.

“Yeah… I think I’m familiar with Max Verstappen” he chuckles loving the doe and excited expression on your face.

“Yeah so he comforted me when Charles, you know Charles too right?”

“Yeah I’m also familiar with Charles Leclerc” he chuckles pouring you another drink, one that you’d been having all night.

“Yeah so he was comforting me after he kissed me, and I was really confused. And I thought he was being so sweet and I - THEN, he was with my best friend!” You say with a shocked expression on your face.

He fakes a shocked look as he slides you your drink.

“No way! That’s just not on!” He plays along with you.

“Right? and I don’t even know what to do now” you whine and the waiter just laughs before wishing you well and moving on to someone else.

You sit there and drink until you feel a hand on your shoulder and you look round in shock.

“Max?” you ask seeing the Dutch man.

“Hey Y/N” he says a hand still resting on your waist.

“Wh- what are you doing here?” You ask, looking at him before your eyes panic dart around the room trying to find anyone to help you.

No-one was around. They weren’t in the booth they’d been in and they weren’t on the dance floor. You gulp the alcohol now getting to your head and making you feel dizzy.

You felt awful …

“I live in Monaco Y/N” he laughs as if the two of you are okay, like nothings happened.

And you hated it.

“I have to go… I’m here with people” you voice getting down of the chair stumbling a little as you do making him catch you in his arms.

“I’ll help you, can’t let you go alone somewhere in this state” he admits, and yes it was probaly just him being honest and wanting to help you but it almost felt like a diss to you…

“I’m fine, I’m just going to go find my brother” you say pushing his hands off you!

You walk away walking through the crowd, not knowing Max is following closely behind you. You walk through the club, pushing past the sweaty body’s trying to find anyone that was in your group.

Your eyes darted round looking for Lando, Max, Pietra or Luisa. But none of them were here. They’d vacated the club. You walk out and find the bouncer.

“Erm hi” you say tugging on the shirt he was wearing. He looks down at you. He was a big man. Way taller than you and way bulkier than you.

“You okay?” He asked, he knew who you were. Not because you came to the club often but because you are Y/N Norris and your are kind of hard to miss.

“I was just wondering if you’d maybe seen my brother and his friends out here?” You asked, hoping they’d just come out for some fresh air or maybe one of them, hopefully not Lando had picked up smoking.

“Yeah they left around 45 minutes ago. You need me to call you a cab?” he asks and you nod. Max again was watching on, the bouncer noticed, worried it was a random at first. But once he noticed it was Max just making sure you were okay, there was a silent not between them.

“You’d do that for me?” You look up at him with tears in his eyes.

“Yeah come on hand me your phone” he says and he plugs in the last coordinates that were there which happened for be the marina.

“You on a boat?” He asks and you nod.

“Okay. It should be here soon” he says hanging back your phone.

You were angry and upset that the group had just upt and left you. And no matter how much you’d had to drink it was something you’d be remembering in the morning and you of course were going to be petty as fuck.

And as for Max, you didn’t realise he was watching you, but he was just concerned for you.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #charles leclerc #lando norris imagine #lando norris #charles lecrelc x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #mv1 x you #mv1 fic #mv33 imagine #mv1 imagine #charles leclerc masterlist #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fic #cl16 one shot #cl16 x you #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16

[virginsexgod69]

Dance with Me

pairing Young! Daryl Dixon x Young! F!Reader to Prison Era! Daryl Dixon x F! Reader

summary Daryl makes up for everything he wasn't able to do for you on prom night,

cw a very small amount of angst, fluff, happy couples

3.3k words

20 something or so years ago….

You nervously rocked back and fourth on the heels of your feet, anxiously waiting for Daryl to walk by. Despite him often skipping school, you knew for a fact he was here today, so today would be the day you’d make your move. As your eyes scanned the crowded hallway, they finally landed on your target. 

“Daryl, hey!” You greeted as you hurried to catch up to him. He stepped aside to the wall of lockers, getting out of the way of the crowd. He noticed the way you wouldn’t look him in the eyes and nervously chewed on your bottom lip. 

“You okay?” He asked with concern. 

“Yeah, um–” you took deep breath, “I was, uh, wondering…if y’know? Um…” He looked at you with a bored expression on his face, growing impatient with your inability to just get to the point. You took in another deep breath, albeit it was more shaky this time. “Areyougoingtoprom?” 

“Wha?” His face morphed into a look of confusion, not having understood a word that came out of your mouth. “Are you g-going to prom?” You asked more clearly this time. The look on his face was an odd mix of amusement and disgust. 

“Nah, y’know I ain’ into that shit,” he said before walking past, but you gently grabbed his arm, effectively stopping him in his tracks. 

“C’mon, Daryl! It could be fun,” you whined. He turned to face you again. “Wait, you gonna go?” 

“Y-yeah! I mean, only if you’ll go with me.”

“As a date?” He only grew more baffled with each question he asked. Your cheeks grew hot with embarrassment and you were staring to wish a massive sinkhole would open up and swallow you whole. You nodded your head fiercely, too afraid to speak for your voice may betray the confident facade you were doing your best to maintain. Daryl’s entire face flushed a fiery crimson color as he opened and closed his mouth like a fish on land. You both stood there awkwardly and unable to speak. 

“Er, I gotta…go,” he rushed out before hurrying off. You watched him leave, internally slapping yourself in the face for thinking he’d wanna go with you as your date. 

☆☆☆

For the rest of the week, Daryl played the interaction over and over and over again in his head. Out of all the ways he could’ve responded, he somehow picked the worst one- running away. Of all the years he’s known you, he never got the impression that you were the type to be into that stuff. That alone shocked him, so it was no surprise that his mind nearly exploded when you wanted him to be his date.

You and him were good friends, maybe even best friends. You’ve been attached at the hip ever since freshman year. He and you would sometimes skip class together to smoke behind the bleachers, catch frogs in the creek after school, eat lunch together, comfort each other during rough times, watch movies together at your house all night, stuff that friends did. But going to prom together as dates? That was new, uncharted territory that he was far too afraid to explore. He wasn’t ready to buy a tux he couldn’t afford, stumble though dance moves he didn’t know while holding you uncomfortably close, then drop you off at your house before your curfew. It was all too scary. You deserved someone who’d actually give you a good time, someone that wasn’t him. 

The door slamming open and his brother stumbling through, still intoxicated, tore him from his downward spiral of self deprecating thoughts. He wanted to ask him for advice on what he should do, but he already knew all he’d get was mockery for even considering going to a school dance. Before Merle could even comment on his sullen disposition, Daryl got up and left, opting to take a walk in the woods to clear his head. 

He immediately regretted his decision when he saw you sitting by the creek, sadly poking at a muddy puddle with a stick. He was gonna turn around and pretend that he didn’t see you, but it was too late. You were already looking at him as you waved meekly. He bit the bullet and just walked over to you, taking a seat next to you on the damp ground. 

“Hey,” you muttered, not looking at him. 

“Hey,” he replied. An awkward silence followed, which is something that’s never happened before. The silences between you two were always comfortable. You both were going to say something, but accidentally cut each other off, leading to an even more awkward silence. 

“I didn’t mean to make things awkward by asking you to prom. I’m sorry. I should’ve known you wouldn’t wanna go, especially not as my date.” Daryl could hear the lump in your throat as you fought back tears, making his own heart sink. You couldn’t be farther from the truth, though. He’d never pass up spending time with you in any capacity. You only had one senior prom and he didn’t want to ruin it for you. You were smart, sweet, and beautiful; someone worthy of a person who can give you the world, but he didn’t have the world to give. 

“S’not true. I’d have gone with ya, but you deserve a better date than me,” he admitted. Your head snapped in his direction, your teary eyes boring into his. 

“There is no one better, Daryl. You’re my best friend!” You argued. 

“Don’ mean I’d make a good prom date,” he countered. 

“Wouldn’t know if ya didn’t try!” 

☆☆☆

Knots churned in Daryl’s stomach as he stood outside of your house. His hand shook as he reached for the doorbell. He quickly withdrew his hand, growing more nervous with every second that passed and he didn’t ring the doorbell. The door swung open, revealing your father who towered over the scared boy, staring him down. 

“You gonna come in, or just stand there all night, son?” He asked. Mortified at being caught, he followed the man inside the house, looking around the familiar, nicely decorated place in search for you. 

“Daryl’s here, come down,” your father yelled. 

“Coming!” Daryl looked up the stairs as you came down. You looked like a princess in your long, elegant dress with your hair styled to the nines, and makeup done. He always found you beautiful, but this was something entirely different. He couldn’t help but gawk at you as he stood there, blushing. He suddenly felt silly as he stood there in a borrowed tux that was too big for him with a tie he didn’t know how to tie knotted clumsily around his neck. 

“W-wow. You look…I- Yer…” 

“Thanks!” You said, saving him the trouble of finding his words. You stood in front of him, admiring how nicely he cleaned up. You’d never seen him in anything like it before and it suited him. 

“H-here!” He said as he clumsily shoved the bouquet of wildflowers he picked into your hands. You gracefully accepted them, admiring the sweet gesture. 

“Alright, let me get a picture of you two,” your dad said, camera already in his hand. He set the camera down for a second and approached Daryl, quickly untangling a re-tying his tie properly. “Okay, now smile you two!” You linked your arm in his and leaned your head on his shoulder as he stood there stiffly. After the flash of the polaroid camera went off, Daryl relaxed a little. 

“Daryl,” you father said after clapping a firm hand on his shoulder, “I trust you’ll have her back by curfew?” 

“Yes, sir,” he promised. 

“Okay, great! Can we go now?” You whined. Your father shook his head at your eagerness and saw the two of you off. 

The loud music thumped in the school’s tackily decorated gymnasium. Silvery streamers hung from the ceiling, reflecting the purplish lights that illuminated the place. Tables with punch and store-bought snacks lined the gym, encircling the patch of floor that was turned into a makeshift dance floor. Near that were circular tables clad in plastic table cloths, surrounded by chairs for people to have a seat and a snack. On the other end, there was a backdrop surrounded by balloons in the school’s colors and a table of props nearby. A photographer stood by, idly waiting for students to come get their picture taken. Arm in arm, you and Daryl entered. 

“Wanna dance?” You shouted over the music. You already knew the answer, but held out hope that maybe you’d be wrong. 

“Nah, s’not really my thing,” he replied. While that was true, an even bigger part of him was scared of embarrassing himself in front of you with his inability to dance. 

“Oh, that’s okay. Wanna get our picture taken?” 

“Don’ really like pictures,” he replied, full of guilt. He felt bad turning down every activity you wanted to do, but he was feeling so uneasy and out of place. Your face fell, but you plastered on a fake smile so quickly that he almost convinced himself that he imagined it. 

“Well, what do you wanna do?” You followed him to one of the tables and sat down after he pulled out a chair for you. He disappeared off to grab some punch for you both before coming back and handing you a cup. You sat there with your head resting in your hand, a dull look upon your face. Daryl knew he wasn’t cut out to be your date to prom and was regretting agreeing to be. He was just wasting your last prom as he wallowed in his insecurities. Ultimately, you got all gussied up just to sit around and do nothing but drink room temperature fruit punch. 

“You can go dancin’ without me, if you want,” he suggested after a while of silence. All he was was a ball and chain keeping you tethered to him when instead you should be out there having a great time. 

“I didn’t ask you to be my date just so I could go dancing by myself!” You huffed. 

“I told you that I don’ do this typa shit!” He snapped. 

“Well then why the hell did you come?!” He really didn’t know why he came, it just felt right. You seemed so excited to go and if him going with you would make you happy, he’d jump at the opportunity to do it. But he jumped into the deep end without knowing how to swim and he was now drowning. It felt like everything he did was the wrong thing and the things he could to to make up for it were far too intimidating.

“Yer the one that told me to try. This is me tryin’!” 

“You’re not tryin’! You’re just sittin’ around on your ass, moping.” 

“Ain’ nothin’ else to do in this shit hole!” He argued. 

“We could dance, we could, get our picture taken, we could even just talk for god sakes! If you don’t like me, that’s fine, but you should’ve just told me.” 

“But I do like ya. Yer my friend?” 

“No, Daryl. I like you.” His jaw visibly dropped at the revelation, but you just rolled your eyes, thinking it should’ve been obvious. He floundered as he thought of what to say, but nothing came out. Someone having feelings for him in that way never crossed his mind, least of all you. You shifted in your seat uncertainly as you silently begged for him to say something. The mortification you felt when nothing came from his mouth was overwhelming. Your entire face felt hot as tears burned in the corners of your eyes, a cold sweat accompanying the knots tying in your stomach. 

“Wanna get outta here?” He asked though the dryness in his mouth. Your eyes widened in shock, but you nodded uncertainly, nonetheless. 

“These tickets were like eighty bucks a pop, but sure, why not.” You accepted the hand he held out to you, grateful that they were just as clammy as yours. 

☆☆☆

It was almost comical how you and Daryl were dressed to the nines just to eat crappy gas station hot dogs and slurpees on a park bench. Daryl seemed more at ease one he took off his blazer and tie and unbuttoned a few buttons. You were more comfortable too after having kicked your heels off. 

“If I had asked you on a date that wasn’t prom,” you took a sip of your slurpee, “would you have said yes?” He stopped chewing his hot dog for a second, before resuming as he thought. 

“Dunno…maybe?” 

“Maybe?” You laughed. Daryl’s cheeks flushed a pink hue which was barely visible under the dim streetlight. As badly as you wanted to ask him what it was about you that was making him so unsure, you didn't. That would've pushed him away even further and he was just now barely getting back to his usual stuff.

“I-it’s okay. I’m having a good time with you right now. Date or not. That’s all that matters, right?” Your smile was sad, but your words were still genuine. 

“ ‘M havin’ a good time with ya, too,” he muttered. You scooted closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder, a position you usually assumed when he was around. But he flinched a little bit, the new context of your feelings making every move seem a bit awkward. He relaxed, though, since having you by his side was second nature by now. 

It felt like hours passed by on that bench. The hot dogs and slurpees were long gone and the two of you were just talking and laughing, reminiscing about old memories as you passed back and forth a cigarette. Daryl glanced down at his watch and cursed to himself. 

"It's past your curfew," he said as he hurriedly stood up. 

"Already!? Damn," you sighed as you put your heels back on. You stood up, slightly wobbling and wincing at the way the shoes dug into your feet. 

"Y'alright?" he asked. 

"I'm fine," you lied as you took clumsy steps away from the bench. 

"Yer feet hurtin'? C'mon, I'll carry ya." He crouched down and held his arms out behind him so he could give you a piggy back ride, but you just laughed. 

"Daryl, you don't have to do that. It's like a forty-five minute walk. I'll be fine," you insisted. 

"Jus' c'mon, girl." You sighed but gave in, nonetheless. You adjusted your dress before grabbing his shoulders and hopping onto his back. He caught you and readjusted you to a more comfortable position. 

Daryl confused you. One minute he's saying he's not sure how he feels about you, but then he turns around and offers to carry you for all three miles back to your house. Is that something someone does for one who's just a friend? Either way, you were  grateful for the boy and you didn't want to lose him just because of your feelings. People like him really were one in a million. 

Daryl gently set you down on your front porch once he walked up to your house. 

"Thanks," you said at the same time he uttered a "sorry." 

"For what?" he and you asked simultaneously. 

"Sorry fer ruinin' yer whole night. Not dancin' with ya or takin' any pictures." 

"Oh. I was gonna thank you for comin' out with me tonight even though school dances aren't really your scene."  His blue eyes- full of remorse- met yours- full of joy- before you both shared a small laugh. His heart started beating a thousand miles a minute when you stepped closer to him until you were toe to toe. Delicate hands held either of his shoulders as you rose to your tip-toes and placed a quick peck to his cheek. He was sure his entire face was comparable to a lobster in that moment, but  he was too distracted by the soft, beautiful smile you were giving him to feel embarrassed. 

"G'nite, Daryl." 

Present Day... 

Daryl stood in the watchtower, staring out in the open fields surrounding the prison’s fences. As per usual, rows upon rows of walkers fought against the chain link fencing. The poor fence would have to give eventually. 

“Hey,” you greeted, almost startling the man. 

“Hey. What’re you doin’ up?” You shrugged your shoulders, but with his back turned, Daryl couldn’t see the motion. You took a seat on the floor beside where he stood and got comfortable. When he realized you weren’t going to leave, he put down the binoculars and sat beside you. You nuzzled your head onto his shoulder like you used to all those years ago. Unlike the nervous teenage boy he used to be, Daryl rested his head atop yours. He was happy to have found you again and refused to waste a minute of time on being unsure about you. 

He was sure, now, that he loved you. He was even sure that he loved you way back then and just didn’t know what to do about it. But when he found you in that bus amongst the other Woodburians, he made a promise to himself that he’d love you the way he’s been too afraid to in the past. 

“Y’know wha’ t’nite reminds me of,” he asked. You hummed in response, prompting him to go on. 

“That night we left prom.”  You sat up and looked at him with pleasant shock. 

“You still remember that night?”  It made you happy that even after all the time that has passed, he remembered. You held memories of that night close to your heart, especially since it was one of your last ones with Daryl before you moved across the country for college. 

“O’course.” 

“I wish I had pictures from that day. I remember you looking so handsome,” you mused. Daryl felt bad, even decades later, for being the reason you had no pictures to remember that day by. He kinda wished he had one now, too.

“You looked like a princess that day, still do.”

“Oh, stop!” You teased, burying your burning face in your hands. Suddenly, he stood up and held a hand out to help you up. Your confused face was illuminated by the pale moonlight that shone through the tower. 

“We don’ got no pictures an it’s too late fer us to take any now, but I can still dance with ya.” Never in your lifetime did you expect to hear Daryl fucking Dixon ask you to dance. Happy tears blurred your vision as you squeezed him into a bear hug. 

“You’re so sweet, Daryl. But you don’t have to do this. You hate dancing a-and there’s no music so…” Your sentence trailed off as you felt Daryl placing your hands on his shoulders before he placed his on either side of your waist.

“Don’ need no music, jus’ hum one of them tunes you used to play on yer piano.” Knowing Daryl remembered so many things about you made your heart swell. The two of you swayed clumsily in each other’s arms as you hummed the tune of Shostakovich’s Waltz No.2. Daryl kept accidentally stepping on your toes, but you didn’t care. His blue eyes shone so beautifully with happiness in the moonlight as he looked at you with so much love. You were beaming at him. The teenage girl inside of you was so happy that she finally got her moment with the boy of her dreams and the adult you were now wouldn’t have had it any other way (well, maybe minus the end of the world). The song came to an end, stopping your humming but Daryl still held you close. Your eyelids fluttered shut as you leaned into him, meeting his chapped lips with yours. His hands moved from your waist to your face, cupping it in his big, warm hands as he kissed you so gently, yet lovingly. 

He was too afraid to say it then, but now, he had the confidence he was lacking. Plus, now was the perfect moment. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too, Daryl.” 

wrote this bc i'm salty ab not having a prom date >=[

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#the walking dead #fic #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon the walking dead #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl drabbles #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #the walking dead daryl #daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd #daryl x reader #fluff #angst #light angst #oneshot #angst with a happy ending #prom night #fanfic

[theaquamarinearchives]

[ you & i ― blade ] "nobody messes with you, not on my watch." cw. gn!reader, fluff, a little crack, blade being the scary dog privileges he is, modern!au, a lil possessive bladie maybe? not intended to be yandere at all, reader had been made uncomfortable by someone, petname (darling), nobody died (sadly), probably ooc idk, not proofread // 660 words

aquamarine's findings. repost from old blog, i thought of this after a tiktok... still one of my favourite works me thinks !!

this was an odd scenario to say the least. you knew blade's work permitted him to be busy but it was never as busy as this - he'd been gone the whole day without so much as a text or call, did something bad happen to him? the overthinking eats you alive, gnawing at you as you pace your shared apartment that sits in silence without the presence of your stoic partner at your side. it wasn't like him to be gone this long. you was about to reach for your phone, sat on the kitchen counter that you'd paced by for minutes now when the front door clicked open, unlocked.

"blade?" you call out, shuffling quickly to the entry hall to see the dark haired man kicking over his shoes. it seems he's in no hurry to reassure or comfort you, as if he hadn't been gone the whole day while missing in action. he quirks a brow at your uneasy look, approaching as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into his chest.

"what's that look for?" he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your head. you don't miss the faint smell of hospital cleaning products on his clothing nor how he had a busted lip and a few bandages wrapped around his left hand. your brows furrow, looking up at him in concern. yes, his work was rough but what the hell? why was he being so nonchalant about this?

"you've been to the hospital," you murmur, worry etched onto your face as you grasp his larger hand in your hands, inspecting the recently wrapped bandages. blade makes a noise, "what the hell have you been doing?"

"i ran into a friend of yours…" his voice trails off, straightening his back as he clears his throat and pulls his injured hand away from you, much to your dismay. instead, he leads you to the lounge with his right palm pressed to the small of your back.

a friend? none of your friends even remotely worked at a hospital - save for that one that quit a few years ago but that was besides the point. blade can basically hear the cogs turning in your mind before there's a click and your eyes widen. the previous night, you'd been out with friends when some guy had approached you and made you seriously uncomfortable. by the time you got home, you'd moved past it but you did stupidly raise it as a conversation topic to blade when you'd climbed into bed beside each other under the warmth of linen sheets - oh.

"hear me out…" blade groans as your gaze turns to him, narrowed as you place your hands on your hips. his hand reaches up to rub his temple, already prepared for how this was going to go.

"you put him in hospital?!" you exclaim. as crazy as this act was, it wasn't his first time pulling this type of scenario and especially not his first time considering his line of work. blade lets out a low chuckle, shrugging as he cups your chin, tipping your head to look up at him.

"i was aiming for the morgue," he sighs as if he's disappointed with the outcome before his slightly rougher lips find yours, dragging you into a cherished kiss that makes you forget the reason you were remotely angry for a few seconds, "it's just you and i, after all. i can't let him be a lingering thought."

scoffing with a faint warmth in your cheeks, you look away and jut your lower lip out. why did he have to be so enticing? he literally put someone in hospital, even after you'd reassured him that it was fine - your friends got involved on your behalf after all, making sure you was safe. you let out a defeated sigh, lightly hitting his shoulder.

"don't do it again." you mutter and blade grins, red eyes glinting deviously.

"no promises, darling."

the archives' notifications. @bisexuawolfsalt, @lovingluxury, @auroratumbles, @ryuryuryuyurboat, @soleillunne

@zamorazz, @zworllyx

© theaquamarinearchives 2024 ; reblogs appreciated. do not re-upload, translate, etc. my works on any platforms or feed any of my works to ai.

#: recorded in the archives #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #blade x reader #hsr fluff #hsr blade #blade fluff #hsr x reader

[teejaystumbles]

Against all odds (part 8)

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7

(Whenever I put this on AO3 it will probably be all one chapter and the longest single chapter fic I've ever written lol) (continues straight after Part 7)

Shame the stranger won’t want to visit the White Horse again any time soon, he thinks as he changes into his sleep clothes. It’s still a decent pub even if Hob heard when he last visited that they want to tear the place down for new buildings. It’s a shame, truly. Hob likes the old Inn. It’s one of the few constants in his life, the most important right after his stranger.

He lies down with a sigh and stares at the ceiling, trying to recall how the place has changed through time. He falls asleep before he can reach the 15th century.

--

Hob dreams again of the White Horse. It is 1389 and he is sitting and drinking with his mates of old, joking about Death being stupid.

A man clad all in black with a face as white as the moon steps silently up to their table. Hob’s mates ask him who he is but the man stays silent and doesn’t acknowledge them, his pitch-black eyes fixed on Hob. Hob stares. He knows him. Would know him anywhere. This is his friend, who he’s been waiting for for a very, very long time.

He ignores the others and they fade into obscurity. He says, awe and wonder clear in his voice and face, “You came.”

“We have an appointment, Hob Gadling. Of course I came.”

“But you didn’t- you didn’t want to meet…here. Any more. Am I wrong?” Hob feels confused. He knows what he’s saying is right, but it doesn’t make any sense, here and now where he has never met this man before. The stranger inclines his head.

“In your dreams I do not feel hesitant to visit this place. It is yours, and therefore a pleasant space to be in.”

Hob frowns.

“Mine? This is your place, my friend. Our place.”

“No. This is your dream of the White Horse Inn, Hob, and every human’s who has lived and visited it. But yours especially. It is not mine,” his friend says almost wistfully, “Neither here, nor in the Waking.”

“Then I'll find us a new place, or I'll build one!” Hob exclaims and jumps up. “A new Inn. One where you'll feel comfortable, a bright place, with a garden and a tree out front and sunny spots to sit and talk, or be quiet. Somewhere that is ours, yours and mine.”

“You would? For me?”

“Aye. I would do anything for you, my friend. My lord.”

Hob tastes the unfamiliar title on his tongue, repeats it again and finds it to feel perfectly right for his stranger, especially when he sees the sparkle in the man's eyes at being addressed as such. “My lord…” The words Hob knows he had been tempted to say on this day in 1389 roll out of him like a rushing river he cannot stop- 

“I’d swear fealty to you, if you’d accept it, and call you my liege. My king,” and he sinks to one knee before the one who rules him.

--

Dream gasps as Hob’s words hit him with the force of a wave crashing into him. He vibrates with ambiguous emotion as Hob smoothly sinks to one knee before him, brown doe eyes looking up at Dream with pure honesty and - love. It’s clearly love that’s shining out of Hob’s eyes and Dream feels the flames at his mantle’s hem lick higher and higher.

What is this human doing, offering him first his blood and now his fealty?

“Oh. Hob,” he rasps, aghast. He doesn’t know what to say. He accepted the first offering. Would it be wise to decline the second? There is magic in the number Three, if he is not careful this will turn into a dangerous affair indeed. If this continues Hob Gadling could be bound to him forever. Excitement rushes through him at the thought.

His.

Someone who'd willingly be Dream’s!

He cannot do this. He mustn’t. Hob may love him, or a version of him he thinks he knows, but Hob is someone who needs to be his own man. Dream cannot imagine him as a vassal, a servant, of anybody, least of all Dream’s.

He takes a step closer and puts a hand on Hob’s head. The man gazes hopefully up at him, a smile on his face. Dream feels his chest tighten.

“You honour me, old friend. Yet I would not rob you of your freedom. You are, and should always be, your own lord and master, subservient to none. I do not wish to be your king.”

Hob’s face falls for a moment and Dream prepares himself for Hob’s disappointment. Then the man at his feet suddenly smiles again and grabs Dream’s hand, cradling it gently before laying a kiss on it.

“Shame. I think it’s too late for you to refuse, my lord, as I have already made my choice. You need not acknowledge me as yours, I will still fight for you and defend you if you are in need. If not a servant, then I am your loyal ally, and I will still offer you anything that is mine.”

Dream shivers and gapes at Hob, who winks cheekily at him and kisses Dream’s hand again. Hastily Dream takes a step back and cradles his hand against his chest.

“You do not know what you promise, Hob. You have to be careful-”

“Careful? Hah!” Hob barks a laugh and gets up from the floor. He claps Dream on the shoulder as if they’ve always been in the habit of touching each other so casually and Dream flinches, stunned.

“Sorry to say this, old friend, but when it comes to you I have never been very careful. Don’t think I can start now.”

Hob shrugs and turns to the table to grab a tankard of ale and a glass of red wine, strangely modern in the mediaeval surroundings of the old tavern, and thrusts it into Dream’s hand. Then Hob toasts him with another wink.

“To our long and lasting friendship, my lord. My friend.”

Dream, perplexed, raises his glass in turn and they both drink. Hob grins happily at him and Dream feels his cheeks flush. He vanishes the wine with a frustrated gesture. Leave it to Hob Gadling to stump him and make him accept a second gift despite himself. He needs to think about this.

He murmurs, “This dream is over,” and leaves Hob to his sleep.

--

Hob wakes up with the feeling of having dreamt something nice, but he can't remember more than that he was in the old White Horse. Snatches of a conversation, of making a toast, come back to him, but he doesn't know who he was even talking to. No matter. It's still better than no dreams at all. He feels much more rested after sleeping since the dreams returned. Seems like his brain is very grateful.

He gets up and throws a glance over at his desk. The journal is gone. Hob blinks. Then he grins and goes to get ready for his day.

His stranger has taken the book! Now it’s just waiting for him to return it. Oh, and come up with a new place to meet, he supposes, while he shaves and slicks his hair back for another day at the agency. Hob sighs. He really needs to get another life. He’s sick and tired of his job and this look. He likes his flat but now that his stranger and him have a new way to communicate, and his friend has no interest in entering the White Horse any time soon, maybe Hob can just up and move to another town for a bit.

He finishes his routine and goes to put the kettle on. He hasn’t taken a holiday in a while. Maybe it’s time for a break at least, if not a reinvention of Hob Gadling. He can come up with what to do next and focus on his stranger. He seems to desperately need the company of a friend, even if he won’t say it outright, and Hob wants to be that friend. 

After breakfast Hob drives to work to finish up some business before he calls in some time off for a family emergency. ‘Against all odds’ plays on the radio and Hob sighs. He listens for a while as his Porsche crawls through London traffic, humiliated by the memory of putting these lyrics down to express his feelings in that first journal entry addressed to his friend. He switches stations and lands on the other extreme - Kylie’s ‘I should be so lucky’ cheerfully hits him right in the heart again. “It's a crazy situation, You always keep me waiting, Because it's only make believe, And I would come a-running, To give you all my loving, If one day, you would notice me-” “Christ,” Hob growls and turns the radio off. Just one more day. He just needs to keep his head for a few more hours, finish off some editing, talk to his bosses and then he’ll be free to wallow and pine for as long as he wants. “Get it together, Gadling,” he hisses at himself and changes gears as the light turns finally green. It’s not like his stranger is not talking to him. He’s back. Everything’s fine. Better than fine, even. He shouldn’t be hung up about things that will never change, he should focus on all the positive developments. His friend wants to meet him again, so Hob should focus on figuring out where they could meet. A park would probably be best, he thinks.

#dreamling #1989 au #the sandman fanfiction #teejay writes

[the-muppet-joker]

A rough draft of what I will send Ethan:

Hello... this is [Legal Name Redacted]. I am messaging you to apologize for how I acted when we worked together. You may recall that I cut off a piece of your beautiful green hair. I bet you are wondering why I did that. In retrospect, that was fairly strange of me. You see, I am Catholic. I had built an altar dedicated to praying to the LORD for us to one day be together (yes, a gay Catholic. We exist. God told me He had no issue with our love). I overheard you saying that you were going to dye your hair a new color and I panicked because I took the fact that we both had dyed green hair as a sign that we were meant to be. So I simply took action to preserve your hair for my altar. I had no intentions of doing anything weird or sexual with the hair as you seemed to think given your reaction. I now understand that what I did may have felt violating to you. I discovered this when I left home to live in the forest, which I did becauae my parents are getting divorced. It is very traumatic for me and honestly I would appreciate it if you would make an effort to reach out to me during this time. In any case, as I tried to sleep under a tree, I was suddenly remimded of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil in the Garden of Eden. That's odd, I thought to myself. I should not have such a vivid memory of that. Unless, perhaps, I was there when it happened in a past life. You see, I am an Adam Kin as it turns out. Yes, Adam, as in the first man. I suppose this technically makes me your father, but do not worry about that, we will figure it out. Perhaps you can call me "Daddy?" That was a joke. Do not call the police. Anyways, I unlocked kin memories of my past life, I remembered how it felt when God took my rib to crrate Eve. He did this without my consent. It felt so violating. But then I realized that my rib was just like your hair: a piece of myself taken without my consent. I am so sorry I did this to you Ethan. I am sick at myself for letting my love for you get the best of me. I will not take any more pieces of you, I promise. And maybe, if you accept my apology, we can be friends? Or more than friends if you wish, but I was quite hurt by your rejection and may need some time. Do not worry about me, though, I have a "special someone" keeping me company in the mean time... he's very sweet and, heh. Let's just say he's a muppet.

[fetchingfletchling]

Spoilers for 2.1

Y'all? I finally decided to revisit Dewlight Pavilion after like 3 weeks (I did most of the stuff you could while in Aventurine's POV so I didn't think there was much left to do and I got distracted with prefarming Robin) to collect all the Origami Birds, and by the sandpit I found this sticker and I was SHOOK.

This feels like such a massive deep-lore drop and it was just casually hidden there the whole time? And I haven't seen anyone mention it at all... 😭

LIKE first of all: The dude literally has the same halo that Sunday had in his leaked beta design (not gonna attach an image but just take my word for it, plus it's not hard to find)

And second, he has the black Raven by his side, which Sunday presumably controls as well. At least, that's what I think makes sense, since he was seen with one as early as Black Swans animated trailer perched on his shoulder, and then of course one was watching over him and Gallagher during THAT scene.

So I guess Sunday inherited those powers? Obviously his surname is "Wood", while Sunday is head of the "Oak" family, a type of wood.

This line in particular piques my interest: "The jealous thundering light reduces his body to ashes, yet his immortal soul in the dust appeases the sorrow of the clouds."

Like, clearly this lore is all encoded in these poetic descriptions, so who is this jealous thundering light, exactly?

For some reason my thoughts went to the Memory Zone Memes/Something Unto Death. It was heavily implied at the end of 2.1 that the Watchmaker is somehow connected to the Memetic Monsters roaming the Dreamscape and also connected to the Aeon of Enigmata, Mythus. I'm just speculating, of course, but these enemies do have powers relating to light and shadow, so I feel like there could be a connection?

I mean, we even have this one "Something in the Mirror", which can transform into any enemy we've faced before. And The Watchmaker is said to be able to take on any form and has over 300 documented forms.

Like, that's just so on-brand for a follower of Enigmata. 🙄 All of this to say, that it seems likely to me that Gopher was killed by someone on the Watchmakers side. These two factions, The Family/Dreammaster and the Watchmaker are clearly at odds with one another as we gradually found out.

#Musings #Hsr #Honkai star rail #Gopher wood #Hsr theory #Sunday hsr #The family hsr #hsr watchmaker #hsr spoilers

[frickingnerd]

accidentally in love

pairing: shinjiro aragaki x gn!reader (+koromaru & akihiko sanada)

summary: shinjiro and you find yourselves tangled up in koromaru's leash, leading to an (not so) accidental kiss…

accidents could happen to anyone. but none of this was an accident, nor a coincidence.

“how come everyone but us got sick? shouldn't we have caught a cold too, if we're around them all the time…?”

shinjiro had the same thought as you, but you were the one that dared to say it out loud. there was something weird about the entirety of S.E.E.S. getting sick, except the two of you. even aigis was out of business, leaving shinjiro and you as the only two who could look after koromaru now.

“there's no way they're all sick…”

shinjiro mumbled under his breath. he stared forward, watching koromaru run through the living room and bark happily, while he was lost in thought.

“i think… they're just sick of having to do so much work around the house. so now they all decided to fake a sickness…”

you silently nodded. it was the only thing that made sense to you. even if it was out of character for them to all lie like this. sure, junpei regularly tried to get out of work by faking sickness. but someone like mitsuru or aigis? that was certainly odd.

“either way… it's not too bad, right? having to take care of koromaru isn't really work!”

as koromaru heard you say his name, he stopped and tilted his head, his tongue hanging out and he seemed to be smiling at you. you smiled back, unaware that seeing your little interaction with the dog brought a small smile to shinjiro's lips as well.

“maybe we should take him for a walk! he seems more restless than usual today…”

koromaru barked in response, almost as if he wanted to agree with shinjiro. that little guy was smarter than most dogs and he seemed to understand very well what was going around him.

“come here, boy!”

shinjiro knelt down and tapped the ground, causing koromaru to come running up to him, happily jumping at shinjiro and barking.

“can you grab his leash?”

shinjiro patted koromaru's head, as he looked up at you with a smile. you quickly nodded and went to grab the leash, before handing it to shinjiro.

as shinjiro locked the leash with koromaru's collar, you held the dog in place. he seemed so eager at the idea of walk with the two of you, that he couldn't stand still.

“there we go!”

shinjiro and you were both still kneeling, when you let go of koromaru. but just as the two of you wanted to get up again, koromaru seemed to have a sudden burst of energy. and before you knew it, he started running around the two of you, wrapping you up in his leash.

“h-hey, hold! koromaru–!”

shinjiro remained a firm grip on the leash, in case koromaru tried to run off. but that only resulted in the two of you being caught within the leash, as koromaru showed no signs of stopping.

“w-wait, let me help you…”

shinjiro and you were pressed against each other, with very little room to move. both of your faces were red and shinjiro tried to avoid eye contact, as he attempted to untangle you from the leash.

but just when it seemed like he had figured out how to get you out of this mess, koromaru started running. and once again, the two of you were pulled closer together. only this time, it wasn't just your bodies pressed against each other, but your lips as well.

“woof–! woof–!”

koromaru had stopped, as soon as the two of you kissed. he happily barked and finally sat down, his tongue hanging out, as he seemed to smile at you. almost as if he had just been waiting for this to happen…

the kiss lasted longer than necessary. especially given it was supposed to be just an accident. but after a few moments, shinjiro and you pulled away from each other – at least as far away as you could, while still being tied together by koromaru's leash.

“s-sorry, i���”

“it was an accident–!”

both of you blurted out at once, blushing furiously. but both of you knew it wasn't just an accident. the first few seconds were an accident. anything after that was just the two of you wanting to prolong the kiss.

“y-yeah… an accident!”

shinjiro and you awkwardly stared at each other for a moment, unable to get away from each other. just when you both slowly leaned in again, you heard voices from upstairs.

“is everything alright here~?”

it was akihiko, who tried to hide an amused smile, when he spotted shinjiro and you wrapped together in koromaru's leash.

“do you need a hand~?”

you nodded embarrassed and akihiko walked over, helping untangle the two of you. shinjiro and you lingered close to each other for another moment, after akihiko had finally removed the leash, before both taking a step back.

“what are you even doing here? didn't you say you were sick!?”

shinjiro was a bit on edge after that kiss. he tried to hide how flustered he still was, by immediately confronting akihiko about his seemingly made up sickness.

“oh, that? well, i feel a lot better now! must've been just some morning sickness!”

“mh, right…”

shinjiro glared at akihiko, skeptical of what he was saying. truly, he didn't believe a word. but he didn't want to start arguing now.

“anyways…” akihiko smiled. “if you want, i can take koromaru on a walk now! i figured the two of you might want to do other things…”

shinjiro and you both froze up. had akihiko seen the kiss? did he see the first one? or had he noticed the two of you leaning in? if he noticed, then surely…

shinjiro's eyes met yours. the same thoughts seemed to run through your head, as you stared at each other. even akihiko noticed it and grinned amused, as he took koromaru's leash from shinjiro's hands.

“we'll be going then! have fun, you two!”

and with that said, akihiko left the dorms, leaving you alone with shinjiro…

after closing the door behind him, akihiko roamed through his pockets, looking for something, as he tried to listen in on you and shinjiro for a bit. he could very well imagine what the two of you were talking about in there…

“here, for you~!”

eventually, akihiko pulled some dog treats out of his pockets, kneeling down to reward koromaru.

“you were a good boy, koromaru! playing your part just like we practiced~!”

#shinjiro aragaki #shinjiro aragaki x reader #shinjiro x reader #aragaki x reader #shinjiro #aragaki #aragaki shinjiro #x reader #x you #x y/n #x gn reader #fluff #oneshot #akihiko sanada #koromaru #crush #romantic #romance #persona x reader #persona 3 x reader #persona 3 reload #persona 3 portable #persona 3 fes #persona 3 #p3 #p3 x reader

[myojinn]

Little Blue Rose - Kaiser Michael

Little Blue Rose ... Very short self-indulgent fic Kaiser Michael (Bllk) x Reader (kind of? but not really?) Tags: ANGST, somewhat fluffy in the end, Kaiser POV a/n: Kaiser my beloved has been catching strays for most of the NEL arc and IT PAINS ME. Like I get how it feels to be confident in yourself only for someone/something to swoop in and ruin everything you had believed in. GAAAAAA :((

With his head throbbing and eyes bleary—he figured that this should be enough... for now.

Truth is that it'll only be enough for him if he has watched the matches at least twice and figured out the logic behind every move every player made. Even then he wouldn't be satisfied for as long as he hasn't come up with a plan on how to counter each one. But if he spent another moment staring at the screen, he was sure his eyeballs would just roll out of his skull.

He thought that it wouldn't hurt to let himself rest for a bit. But every step he took away from the viewing room felt like he was betraying himself.

"Should I really be resting instead of working?" He asks himself. And as if on cue, he feels his brain pulse against his skull. At least he got an answer.

But then the image of Yoichi clenching his shirt with his goddamned fist entered his mind. He hated the way how he felt looked down upon. He hated how Yoichi was slowly climbing the ranks and becoming full of himself.

He hated how he kept doing everything, but still couldn't do anything in the end.

He finally steps into his room. It was cold. It was dark—except for the single lamp he left turned on which illuminated the desk cast off to the side. He notices something that wasn't there before when he left his room this morning.

A pile of letters?

He walks with a bit more purpose this time as he goes up to his desk to examine the letters. It seems that these are fan mail. Odd—isn't Blue Lock supposed to be a secret secluded place? But he figures that it doesn't really stop any of the hardcore fans. The least that management can do is drop off the mail to the rightful receivers.

He filters through them. Most of them had a lot of fancy embellishments and stationary. He opened a couple and found letters upon letters that would probably take him hours to read.

He loved attention, sure. But he knew that the adoration of his fans would only get him so far.

He sighed, cursing himself that he couldn't even read any of it. But then he saw a simple blue envelope which stood out to him in a way that he felt compelled to open it up.

He picked it out and haphazardly took out its contents. Rather than being met with another wall of words—all he saw was a single sentence accompanied with a dried blue rose glued above it.

"Dried flowers huh?" He thought silently. He was used to getting fresh flowers. But he was strangely more appreciative of this. After all, you had to figure out how to properly saturate a white rose with blue dye, then you even had to press and dry the thing correctly so that it may arrive in Kaiser's hands still looking as pretty as when you started with it.

His heavy heart felt lighter again. He couldn't help but smile a bit as he kept reading that singular sentence over and over again: "No matter what anyone says—you'll always be the best in my eyes." - your little blue rose

He felt a bit silly. How could he be doubting himself right now when he has so many other people believing in him? He chucks the letter back into the pile.

Suddenly, he's not so tired anymore.

PLS CHEER UP KING ILY T_T How about y'all send him some fan mail and I'll write a fic of him reacting to it all :(( HE NEEDS SOME MAJOR LOVING RN

#michael kaiser #kaiser michael #kaiser x reader #kaiser x you #blue lock #bllk #blue lock kaiser #bllk kaiser #kaiser fluff #SEND KAISER FAN MAIL NEOW #myoji writes

[jovieinramshackle]

Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaase more about the dylia (dylla + lilia) ship. It is so crack and yet so satisfying. Please i beg 🙏🙏🙏

JSDSASHDAJSH HBF LET'S GOOOOO MORE DYLIA

Dw anon I'm here to deliver🙏🙏

This got long and it's kinda all over the place SORRY I just REALLY wanted to ramble about them

So I see them meeting around Deuce's second year I HAVEN'T THOUGHT EXACTLY HOW (so I'm open to ideas) BUT they found themselves attracted to each other rather quickly.

Lilia found Dylla's confident and strong personality intriguing, enjoying how she didn't hesitate to talk or speak her mind.

I imagine Dylla didn't have an interest in dating considering she had to look after Deuce, and depending on what you think the father is like, her want to date can decrease even more.

So imagine her surprise when she found herself giggling at Lilia's antics...she hadn't enjoyed being around someone like that in a WHILE so it was a very odd, yet nice feeling for her

I'm so sure Deuce and Silver noticed this and tried to encourage them to talk more.

They keep in contact!! Phone calling each other daily, they were in the "we're just friends" phase for a while until Lilia FINALLY went ahead and asked her out-- and she accepted!

I think they both would be pretty awkward at the start, but Dylla less- both because of her personality and, well, Lilia hasn't felt this way in over 400 years, with Meleanor and her husband having been the first to make him feel this specific love.

He wants to appear confident and sure about himself, but he just isn't, and Dylla can see that and tries to reassure him as much as she can.

But, of course, she also carries her own doubts, after all, she hasn't been with someone in YEARS, and she's scared of this going badly again. Not to mention, she doesn't want to do something that could potentially make Deuce uncomfortable, since a mom dating again could bring mixed feelings to the child.

Although she doesn't ask for reassurance from her son, obviously, it's not his responsibility, Deuce catches onto her doubts and tries to comfort her even a little bit.

"You said all you wanted from me was to visit once in a while, right? Well, I want you to enjoy your life! No need to worry about me."

These are the words she tries to keep in mind every time she starts feeling unsure, and honestly, they help more than Deuce himself realises.

So what do they do once they're sure they have sealed the deal and are official? They move together!

Instead of running on to some unknown Eastern country to never be seen again, Lilia moves with her to Clock Town. Dylla is one of the many things that made him want to look at the future and not be scared of his family seeing him grow old.

Admittedly, he's nervous, he won't disappear off the face of the earth, but he's still moving far away. And this is where Silver comes in

"If being with Dylla makes you this happy, you should go for it. And knowing you'll be in a good place, and that I will be able to visit you, is enough for me."

Similar words were given to Lilia by both Malleus and Sebek. Knowing that he's still moving away is hard, but at least he's somewhere they know he'll be okay, somewhere they can go and see him again whenever they want to.

So Lilia is a fae but can't exactly...use magic anymore, he's an old man he's way past using magic.

But that doesn't stop him, and with Dylla's help, he's getting a job at White Rabbit Home Delivery!!

He almost crashed the car 3 times but he got the hang of it soon enough.

They live like this for a few years but to a lot of people's surprise (mostly people at work) these two aren't married, despite acting like a married couple.

I feel like, despite being comfortable and sure about their relationship, they wouldn't legally speaking get married, it's not something that for them felt necessary (mentally speaking they said their vows years ago lmao).

What they do instead is a small ceremony with their friends and family. Nothing super fancy, all they wanted was to have fun and enjoy themselves.

They DO call each other husband and wife though, the lack of papers doesn't change the way they feel about each other and the commitment they share, so nothing is stopping them from using those terms.

So yes they are STILL "the bride and her ugly ass grom" 🙏

To finish off this post, Lilia grows his hair again!

I love the idea that he cut it to signal the start of something new when he became a father. I like thinking that when he moved in with Dylla he began growing it again, to show his start with this new chapter of his life.

HASHDHSSKAJEISD If I get more asks I could go more in-depth with them or their families, I could also maybe include my oc Jess and their relationship with these two hehe

#twisted wonderland #twst #lilia vanrouge #dylla spade #dila spade #dilla spade #deuce spade #silver vanrouge #twst silver #malleus draconia #sebek zigvolt #dylia #jovie's writing #jovie's art

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

So uh...I know the odds of this happening is slim to none, but I figure I'll shoot my shot: the Creator having a little one, who is sporting a small diamond marking on their forehead? (Xiao, it's Xiao as the dad.) And for fun: Venti somehow gets blamed for this! :D

Tsarita: The Yaksha has an Anemo Vision. Of course someone who uses the element of Barbatos would be so forward as to try something with the Creator!

Venti: I DID NOTHING, WHY AM I BEING BLAMED?!

A forever diamond

WC: ~600

Cw: Raiden is alloyist 😔

Imagine if this happened close to cloud retainer and she just side eyes Xiao like "this one is impressed the conqueror of demons has, what the younger generations call, rizz"

Xuezhui’s birthdays are a whole event for liyue, somewhat of an unofficial holiday, people are often given half day or the whole day to roam the streets, different vendors setting stalls with food and trinkets.

A room would get rented in the xinyue salon and the seven stars and the archons would accompany for lunch and a small dessert for the toddler.

As you finish eating and leave Xuezhui on the floor she starts running to a small group of children, zhongli trailing behind her so you could finish your conversation with keqing.

Regal as when he was an archon zhongli stands a few meters away from the little group of children playing tag. Sometimes he can't help but let himself drift in his thoughts, Xuezhui is so similar to Xiao when he rescued him, even when only a handful of people remember that day he can see it as clear as day. Could Xiao have spent his younger life as carefree as this little girl?

Suddenly he is snapped from his daydream by a scream and sobbing.

“What is it, little one?” zhongli leans forward where xuezhui was seated crying, some of her friends surrounding her. He saw her fall while chasing each other but it didn't seem hard enough for her to not keep playing.

“It hurrrttss” her hands clasped on her forehead, tear clouding her eyes.

“Let me see” softly he pries her hands away, expecting to see some flushed skin, maybe a bruise or some blood but it was neither of those, rather it was a small purple diamond “...interesting”

“What happened over here?” Quickly you walk towards them, worried about the soft sniffles and suddenly falling to the floor. She makes grabby hands so you perch her on your hip, smoothing her hair.

“Someone can't refuse her inheritance for too long” he taps between his brows, letting you know. Swiftly you move her bangs, showing a small diamond just under her hairline.

“I thought it was make up”

“it would make sense with his depressive persona but as you already know adepti have no need for vision and merely wear one to comply with human expectations,” he picks something up from the floor, a small golden plate before placing it on the silk in the back of her dress “on the contrary, half adeptus like Ganyu need a vision to canalize elemental energy yet can use adeptal features to hone their abilities”

“I can barely manage her as it's, don't tell me that was a vision”

His hand falls on your shoulder, a stiff smile trying not to laugh at you “I would invest in fire insurance”

Seemingly your defeated face was very visible, even from a few meters away, or you took a fair amount of time, as some archon and Ningguang were approaching you.

“Is anything wrong I could help with?” Ningguang speaks first, wandering what might have happened.

“Xuezhui fell, just a small nick on the forehead” zhongli snickers behind you.

“if she hurt herself I'm sure Dr Baizhu wouldn't mind checking her up quickly” she attempts to check her but you change her to the other side, attempting to hide her mark.

“She is fine, she just got scared and is a bit cuddly”

“oh, what a shame, I wanted to try her beloved almond tofu but if she is so stuck with you we will have to leave it for another occasion”

“Almond tofu! Let's go” she jumps out of your arms and jumps towards Raiden, who notices instantly the soft purple diamond “mmh, what is this?” she swipes her thumb over it but it doesn't smudge, the edges perfectly neat.

“Who does that remind me of?” Venti taps his chin.

“the vigilant yaksha?...” Ningguang mumbles under her breath. She did know he took the role of your bodyguard but never thought your relationship would be so more intimate

“So in the end it WAS your fault…”

“but he is from Liyue! It's Morax’s fault!”

“But he has an anemo vision”

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

“All anemo vision holders are libertine or lazy”

“Hey! That is alloyism!”

“who would have guessed this would work out nicely for me”

#genshin impact #gi #sagau #genshin x reader #self aware genshin impact #sagau x reader #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #genshin xiao

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Overwhelmed

elijah mikaelson x reader | requested

summary: you were warned that the transition would be hard, but words can only prepare you so much. experiencing it for yourself is way different, and harder than you could’ve ever imagined. you’re just glad your boyfriend’s got your back through it all, otherwise things would be going even worse than they already are.

tags: neurodiverse reader / sensory processing disorder, overstimulation, mild panic attack, comfort, some fluff

word count: 2.2k

a/n: requested to be like my other work, One of These Days, but just for Elijah! I tried making this one just a little different from the other, just for some variation, so I hope it's okay! <3

Every emotion you’ve ever felt is ten times stronger. Every bit of anger, sadness, joy, or pleasure. Your body seems to burn with discomfort, or melt with adoration, as your heightened senses take on a personality of their own. Your mind races. Your thinking is quicker, your reflexes are faster, and your feet can move you across a room almost at the speed of sound. It’s strange. Anxiety bubbles in your chest as you try to adapt to each new scenario. Every room in the mansion feels like a new challenge. The bright lights seem to burn into your retinas. Their faint buzzing is like a gunshot close to your ear. 

As a human, your senses were already sharp. You could hear someone’s footsteps from the third floor from your top floor room, and you could smell even the faintest scent of chocolate, or coffee, and you could notice the tiny details about someone’s speech, or pick out a lie from a monologue of rambling. Now, you can do all those things still, but they seem to yell at you. The whole world is yelling and you can’t avoid it. Everything is begging for attention - to be seen, to be heard, to be smelled - and there’s no shutting it off. You’re trapped inside your own body, your own mind, and there’s no escape. The yelling of the voices, the buzzing of the lights, the smell of the cologne that lingers in the air, and the feel of the denim clinging to your hips. Everything’s so strong now. Everything’s so-

“Y/N!” A sharp summon yanks you back to reality. A gentle hand rests on your shoulder, squeezing slightly. “Take a deep breath.”

Your dissociated eyes focus on the man in front of you. It takes you a second to recognize him, but his presence soon makes you calm. You look at him, then breathe, before giving a slight nod. He takes his hand off your shoulder. “Hi.”

“Are you okay?”

You blink a couple times, taking in your surroundings. You’re in the mansion, in Mystic Falls, in the middle of the day. The sun peeks through the windows, but your ring keeps you safe from the rays. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Are you sure? You looked startled.”

“Startled?”

“Panicked. Zoned out, even.”

“I’m okay, ‘Lijah. Just a little… yeah, zoned out.”

“If you want me to find you some herbs to settle your nerves, the Bennett witch might still feel bad about getting you turned,” he starts.

You shrug your shoulders. “No, I think I’m okay. I don’t really want to talk to her right now. Have you gotten any news about your brother?”

Elijah sighs. “Nothing of any use. But don’t you worry about that, okay? I have many contacts who I’ve promised protection as long as they tell me everything they find about him. He won’t be able to sneak up on us, nor will I let him hurt you. Rest your little head.” He kisses your forehead sweetly, cupping your chin. Elijah strides towards the kitchen and fills a cup of water. “Is there anything else I can get you? Something to eat, perhaps?”

The thought of blood kicks up your senses again. The buzzing light occupies its usual space in your mind. 

“Um…”

“Y/N?”

“Can you turn off that light?”

Without question, Elijah flicks it off. He smiles softly before handing you the water. “Hungry at all?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Positive? I don’t want you passing out on me from hunger again, love. I know it’s odd, at first, but you’ll get used to it.”

You hesitate. You don’t want to admit that it was overstimulation, not hunger, that caused your first episode. Yes, drinking human blood is something you’ll have to adapt to, but the real struggle is the sensory overload brought on by your transition. It’s worse than you ever thought it would be. And while Elijah warned you, it seems your previous human sensitivities have only multiplied. 

“I’m not really hungry. I think I might be tired, actually.”

The man looks at you as if willing the truth out of your sealed lips. He wants to prod, you can tell by the way he purses his lips, but he respects your response. If you don’t want to share, that’s okay. 

“Will you be here? Or do you have something to do in town?” You ask, partly changing the subject. 

He glances towards the window, but then back at you. “I have one thing for which I have to go into town, but I will be back shortly. Nothing dangerous. Rest easy.”

“You don’t mind if I take a nap?”

“Not at all. All I ask is that you stay here, stay safe, just while I’m gone.”

You nod, before carrying your tired legs up to your room. There, you finally strip yourself of your jeans and t-shirt, then turn off the lights and curl under a mount of comfortable blankets. Your noise canceling headphones block out what the four walls don’t, and sleep comes easy once you shut off the world. 

You sleep half the day away and wake up foggy-eyed around eight. Only a bit of sunlight still peeks through your curtains; much of the townspeople should have retired to their homes by now. Slowly, you rise from your bed for a more comfortable set of clothes. Your original plans to go out for one of your first days as a newly transitioned vampire were ruined by your overstimulation and rather long nap, but that’s okay. It’s not something you were looking forward to doing, if you’re being honest. 

When you make your way downstairs, Elijah’s in the kitchen. He’s busy with a task, but looks up to acknowledge your presence. A glass of blood rests beside him, but you’re not craving it right now. Instead, a peculiar smell catches in your nose, upsetting your stomach. You cough and try to ignore it.

“Did you get done what you needed to do?”

“I did, mostly, until the students and townspeople decided to gather in the square and distract me from my errand. I’ll just have to finish it tomorrow,” he says with a slight roll of his eyes. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, actually. But do you know what that putrid smell is? Nothing like waking up to that. It feels like it’s burning a hole in my head.”

“That, my dear, is the bonfire that interrupted my conversation. I tell you, I have never seen a town with more social events than this one. It’s a wonder those alone haven’t attracted my brother here.”

“Ugh! And I used to have to go to all those before my friends all turned on me,” you muse. Ever since falling for the original and helping him in his quest to locate Klaus, they haven’t talked to you much. Their disapproval of your relationship is half the reason you were turned in the first place. “I didn’t enjoy them then, up close, and I still don’t like them now.”

“I can imagine it is quite the headache. The smell alone, coupled with the noise.” He pauses. “I sealed the windows to try and block some of it out, but it seems to have managed its way in anyway.”

“So it has,” you reply bitterly. “God, I was finally feeling better, but the minute I came out of my room, it all comes back.”

Just before Elijah can answer, an overexcited “woohoo!” from a local student carries from somewhere outside. You slump your head to the counter with an utterance of disgust. The simple shout is like a dagger between the eyes. 

“Y/N…” Elijah begins, hesitantly, “it’s important to feed when you’re this early in your transition. It’ll help with the senses.”

“Are you suggesting I go eat him?”

The man smiles. “No, but I have bags in the fridge. I can pour you a glass.”

Drinking from the rowdy man outside seems much more appetizing than getting a meal from a cold, three day old bag. Your stomach curtles at the thought. “No, I’m fine.”

“Love, your cravings are half of the problem. You can curb your senses when you feed properly. It does you no good to go hungry. What do they call it in this day and age?” He snaps his fingers. “Hangry.”

You glare up at him for a moment, then drop your gaze. “I’m not hangry, ‘Lijah, I just don’t feel like eating.” His pushiness is now adding to your uncomfortable state. You know he does it out of love, but right now, his love is rather suffocating. 

“Y/N… I really would feel better if you ate something. It’s been nearly ten hours since your last meal, and-”

“I’m not hungry!” You snap. “I told you already! I ate this morning, and I don’t want anything more. I just want everything to stop! I want the sounds to stop, the feelings - I feel everything, inside and out. I want the stupid smell of the wafting bonfire to get out of my nose. And I want this off me, because it’s touching me, and I don’t want it!” In a rage, you rip off your daylight ring and send it flying across the room. 

Elijah startles, fear shooting through him, but then he remembers it’s nighttime. He settles his anxious bones through a few deep breaths and waits for you to calm. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says softly, “I hope you accept my apology.”

The dam breaks at that and tears flood your eyes. You cover your face with your hands and try to fight them off. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just… stressed. There’s so much going on and so little I feel I can do about it. Everything is different, and loud, and overwhelming, and I’m taking it out on you.”

“None of that is your fault. You didn’t ask to be turned.”

“No, but I could be handling it better.”

“Y/N… you struggled with such things when you were human. How could you be expected to adapt quickly as a vampire? Your senses are heightened regardless of what you faced as a mortal; yours are even more sensitive than most. That makes you stronger than you even believe yourself to be. You should give yourself more credit.”

“I don’t feel stronger. I feel like an already weak person dumbed down.”

“Well I see the exact opposite. Your transition isn’t easy, but it’ll make you better in the long run. You’ll learn how to master your strengths and adapt to your weaknesses. You’ll make weapons out of them, and they’ll save your life. And, probably at times, mine, too. It’s a rare thing that you have, but you can make a disability into an advantage.”

“Maybe. If I ever manage to cope with it.”

“You will. I know you will. And I will be here to help you through it.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” He smiles. “So, if you’re up for it, put the ring back on? Give this thing another chance?”

You sigh. “Tomorrow? When the sun comes out? I can’t wear rings for too long at a time; I don’t like the feeling, it’s like it suffocates my skin.”

“Let’s make a deal. You can take it off when the sun goes down, but at night, you have to wear it or keep your blinds tightly shut. And don’t misplace or lose it, because witches can be hard to find.”

Smiling, you agree. “Okay. I’ll keep it close.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“Thank you, too.”

“Now… when you say that the ring is suffocating your skin, is that just the ring, or everything?”

The question goes a bit over your head at first. You miss the way he’s looking at you and focus on answering honestly. “Sometimes, it’s everything, but other times, I can tolerate certain things. Right now, everything is overwhelming. Even my hair touching my head right now is stressful.”

“Okay.” 

“Wait… were you asking something else?”

He shakes his head. “I was just wondering if you’d like to sit with me, but I understand if you need some space.”

You think about it, wanting desperately to have some time with him, and willing away your discomfort. “What if we… what if we sit, and in a little bit, I might feel better?”

“As long as you’re up for it.”

“Okay. I can do that.”

For about twenty minutes, you sit in your respective chairs and laugh along to a sitcom that’s airing reruns on the tv. Elijah turned off all the lights and shut the curtains beforehand, creating a soft atmosphere in which you could relax. Your ring sits on the table in between you both, but the pressure to wear it is absent. You’ll put it on when it’s necessary. 

At the next commercial break, you silently slide out of your own chair and catch his attention. He gives you a quizzical look, about to ask where you’re going, but then you crawl into his lap in three quick movements, and his hands automatically reach out to support you. Your feet hang over the armchair, but your head is against his chest. Wanting to feel a bit more cozy, you grab a nearby blanket and drape it over the both of you. Elijah kisses your hair, then rests his lips on the side of your head. His contented breathing slows your own. 

“Comfortable?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Thank you. I love you.”

He kisses you again, a response of his own, and smiles. “I love you, too.”

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