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#and when the author gets sad about their own writing... oh boy
freezethebeez · 2 years
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yo ive spent the past few days binging everything in your ao3 and bro. bro oh my god. youre insanely good at what you do, i love your writing so much. like i read all of catalyst yesterday and it was so good omg. that fic did things to me. also its so very funny at parts its so well written and you super nail the dynamic of both of them thinking theyre in the wrong, its one of the best fanfics ive read ever i think
[insert aimsey spinning gif here] THIS IS THE NICEST THING I'VE EVER READ AAAAAAAAA
i've spent the past 24 hours trying to figure out how to type out a response that'll show my gratitude, but after said 24 hours i've decided to go 'fuck it we ball' THIS IS SO SWEET I'M GONNA EXPLODE
getting to hear about how everyone's perceived catalyst and how it's inflicted so many strong emotions has been such an interesting and wonderful experience to me. i'm glad i've managed to take some of my brainrot about these silly little guys and pass it along to you :]
and yes, catalyst is meant to be the best of all worlds– fluff, angst, and comedy. gotta ease the agony somehow :,D
the entirety of The Catalyst Experience has been just as wild to me as it has to all of you, trust me. i'm glad we get to share this experience together :)
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dudeitiskarev · 1 month
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If You Only Knew | Aaron Hotchner
My One and Only prequel
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau female reader
Summary: Broken hearts find each other and in the process, they mend each other.
Word count: 10.7k
Tags/warnings: season 10 Hotch <3; cheating (on reader); food and alcohol consumption; Hotch has a soft spot for reader<3; lazy case talk whoops; canon typical violence; one bed trope; smut: unprotected and dirty office sex (p in v); secret relationship; stolen glances and kisses in forbidden places!!1!
Author’s note: I don’t usually do second parts mostly because I wrap up the story in a single one shot, but while writing the first fic I had this prequel in mind because oh boy, they have HISTORY (which is why it ended up being longer than My One and Only). Both can be read as a stand alone. First fic was based on Dress by miss T. Swift, and this one is like a mash up of every Taylor’s ovulation songs (I listened to this playlist a lot while writing this) 🙂‍↔️ Call It What You Want x I Can See You being the main inspo. Or were the songs inspired by them???🧐 it’s just so sexy sexy. Anyway, hope you enjoy!!!!
MASTERLIST
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There used to be an engagement ring on your right hand. 
A bright but simple ring that from the moment it was given to you, had you hopeful about your future. That future had always been uncertain. You rarely pictured yourself more than two years ahead, to begin with—for many reasons, neither worth mentioning—but no matter how long your future was, you were sure it was going to be just as bright as your ring. 
And how wrong you were…
It hadn’t been more than two months since your fiancé promised you the world when you caught him in a lie. You’d let it slip away, fidgeting your ring as a reminder that he was the one. 
If you hadn’t ignored the signs, you would’ve saved yourself from getting your heart ripped out. 
He cheated, and even worse, you caught him in the act, with another woman in your own bed. You stormed out leaving every door open. Zac came running behind you, yelling your name, but you didn’t stop. You ripped the engagement ring off your finger and threw it at him without looking back. That clink of the band bouncing on the pavement was so faint compared to the sound of your castle crumbling, and your prince kept yelling at you to come back.
You didn’t. You got in your car and drove off aimlessly. 
You’d been driving around the city blasting music since then, and yelling the lyrics hoping you’d go numb. You didn’t, but at least you had some clarity. 
You had nowhere to be. There was no home anymore, no bed to sleep on, and no arms to run to. The place you used to call home now was stained with lies and haunted by another woman. 
The only place that could shelter you for the night was the BAU. At the end of the day, that was your home. You spent most of your days there with the people you worked with. People who would take a bullet for you. They were your family—Derek being the one you loved the most—but you couldn’t run to him or any of them right now. The wound was too fresh and letting them see you like this would be disappointing and just… sad. They’ve always known you as a tough and reasonable woman. How were you supposed to tell them you weren’t that smart now that your entire relationship crumbled?
You parked at your usual spot and searched for your emergency go bag in the backseat. It was always stocked with everything you needed for at least a week. You weren’t planning on staying at the BAU for an entire week, of course, but also, you never knew. Your ex was capable of lighting your house on fire just to get rid of any evidence of his betrayal so for now, that bag was all you had. 
You took a deep breath and made your way inside the building. You walked through security as you always did and smiled at the night guard. It was Rick, the oldest of them all but you felt the safest when he was at the door.
“What brings you here at this hour, young lady?” Rick adjusted his ivy cap. 
It was past three in the morning. 
“Piled up paperwork,” you merely said. 
And he didn’t question you. “Oh, sure,” he answered politely with his old, raspy voice.  
You smiled at him and made your way to the elevator, pushing the number six as you always did. You kicked the bag with your knee until the doors dinged open. 
Not a single soul received you.
You walked past the glass doors and reached your desk, looking up at Hotch’s office that was right across. He had a couch there that you could use as your bed for a few hours. Everyone has slept there at least once— for whatever reason—and now it was your turn. You marched up the short stairs and paused. You knew his office remained unlocked (he once said that he’d lost the key, but deep down you knew he left it open in case anyone needed somewhere to crash for the night). 
You knocked, just in case, and once there was no answer, you twisted the knob. His perfume was faint in the air—soft and woody—so it was easy to assume he’d left not long ago. You closed the door behind you and walked to the couch, leaving your bag there and turning the lamp on. 
The dim light triggered the memories of the moment that tore you apart hours earlier: Another woman riding your fiancé. They even dared to light up romantic candles. 
Your fucking candles.
“Son of a bitch,” you muttered.
You couldn’t help but laugh a little. You wasted three years of your life and now with a cool head, you realized it was in your hands how you handled it. It could either be the best thing that's happened to you or you could let it drag you down. 
Right then, you decided the first option was the only one. You stood there, both hands on your hips, your chin up and took a deep breath, filling your lungs with air until your chest swelled. 
This was going to be the only night you’d let yourself mourn your relationship. No tears. Just you and a glass of scotch. It wasn’t your drink of choice but it was all Hotch kept in his office and you knew exactly where he kept the bottle (right under his espresso machine García had gotten him for his birthday a couple of years ago). You crouched down and opened the little cabinet. The bottle was almost full and you wondered if it was brand new or if he rarely drank. You shrugged it off. You poured yourself some and began pacing around his office.
You’ve been here a million times and you’d never paid much attention to all the things he had. There were quite a few awards granted by the bureau displayed on the wall behind his desk; a bunch of books, too. You ran your fingers through them as you walked from end to end. He had a picture of Jack and Haley over his desk and you looked around, searching for a picture of Beth. Your eye landed on her contagious smile, over the little table by his couch. You walked there to get a better look at the picture. She was looking at the camera and he was looking at her. You’d met her a few times and it was nice seeing Hotch in love again. After Haley, everyone thought he’d refuse to let someone in again, but when love knocks on your door there’s not much you can do. 
You sighed deeply and placed your empty glass in front of the picture. The alcohol was making you sleepy so you made yourself comfortable. You went to brush your teeth, put on your pajamas and fuzzy socks, made a blanket out of your blazer, and used your folded pants as a pillow.
You rubbed your feet together. It wasn’t a cold night, but you wished you didn’t have to spend it alone. 
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The constant sound of a pen scraping on paper gradually woke you up.
Shit. 
You meant to sleep only a few hours and have Hotch’s office as it was before he got here; pretend you’d gotten there earlier than everyone. You must’ve slept through your alarm. 
You slowly squinted your eyes open and caught Hotch sitting at his desk, brows low in deep thought.
How long has he been there?
“Hotch.” You rubbed your eyes and sat upright. “Hi. Sorry, I— What time is it?”
“Eight-thirty,” he answered, never taking his eyes off the file.
So you didn’t sleep through your alarm. 
“When did you get here? I didn’t hear you.”
“A few minutes ago.” He put the pen down and lifted his head to look at you. His face softened. 
He didn’t seem upset about you invading his office but you still felt the need to explain yourself. “I, uh, stayed until late last night and I was too sleepy to drive and—” You realized mid-sentence how bad you were lying.
But he let you. 
“It’s not a problem, you can always sleep here. As long as it’s not already taken.” He stared at you for a moment, rubbing his thumb with the rest of his fingers. You wondered how bad you looked. How bad everything seemed. “It has a foldable seat,” was all he said, gesturing at the couch. “There’s a blanket under it.”
“Oh, thanks. It wasn’t that cold.” You braced yourself. 
It was cold now.
“You can sleep for another hour,” he added. 
“We don’t have a case?” 
“No.” He glanced at the open door and then back at you. “Not yet anyway.”
Then why was he here so early?
You smiled at him and began to gather your things anyway. “Thank you, but I still should go. I’m… invading your space.”
“Oh, please. Don’t worry about it,” he said before going back to work on his paper. 
Even if he didn’t mind you sleeping there while he worked, you did. You stood up, stretched your neck a bit, and began to fold all of your clothes, putting them back in your bag. 
You felt his eyes on you every once in a while and just when you grabbed the evidence of your late night—the empty glass of scotch—he asked, “Is everything alright?”
You looked at him. There was that soft look again.
“Yeah, I just…” you trailed off, fidgeting with your now invisible ring. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
He didn’t have to say anything. He knew. You knew he knew just by that look he gave you. Wise. Emphatic. The ‘I’ve been there before’ look. 
He opened his mouth to add something, but his phone buzzed on the table, making him tear his eyes off you. He sighed as his brows lowered.
“Now we have a case?” You asked and he nodded. “I’ll put on some work-appropriate clothes, then.” You looked down at your pajamas.
“Take your time. We’ll meet in thirty.”
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The jet took off and the clouds were never-ending. 
Two women had been abducted (and murdered) already in Fort Myers before you were invited to investigate. Victimology and M.O. were discussed and you barely said a thing. Your mind kept wandering off to the night before and how miserable you felt. The phantom of betrayal was still heavy on your shoulders. 
Hotch sat next to you during the three-hour flight, and the only thing he said to you that wasn’t work-related was: ‘Would you like some coffee’, to which you gladly accepted. His eyes, though, kept asking if you were okay. 
Minutes before the jet touched the ground, your phone caught some signal and began to buzz uncontrollably against the table. You already knew who it was so you didn’t bother to glance at the screen, you just sighed in annoyance and put your phone in your pocket. You felt Hotch’s eyes on you again and you tried your best to ignore him.
Right now, he was your boss, not your friend. 
The moment the jet doors opened, the dense, humid air stuck to your skin. Everyone groaned in annoyance.
“Ugh, I hate Florida,” Emily commented. 
You didn’t mind it. You needed a bit of heat and sun, hoping they’d woosh away the gray cloud over your head.
Hotch assigned everyone’s tasks for the day and partnered you up with Morgan to interview the victims’ families. Smart move. It was known that Morgan was your person inside the team, and even if he didn’t know about your heartbreak right now, he’d surely find out soon after spending the day with you. That’s what Hotch wanted. For you to have someone to talk to if you wanted.
You would’ve preferred to be out in the field instead of inside an office, that way you’d have more distractions. Right now, as you talked to one of the victim’s husbands, your only distraction was your phone. Your ex started to call you again and spam-texting you. He was getting on your nerves and you couldn’t quite focus on your job. The one that you considered was your forte—when it came to good people. 
These men weren’t good people. They were exactly like your ex. 
And they got on your nerves. 
Morgan shot you a frown as he walked the last person out of the office, “What’s going on with you? You almost punched the guy.” He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb.
“I would’ve if you hadn’t caught me.” You rolled your eyes. 
“I’m being dead serious, what’s going on with you?”
“He called his dead wife a whore, Morgan.”
“I’m not just talking about this. All morning you’ve been acting weird.”
There was his big brother attitude.
You sighed, shaking your head. You couldn’t not tell him. So you told him. Some of it. “Zac and I are fighting. He keeps calling but I’m not gonna answer yet. He’s gonna have to wait until I’m back.”
“What did he do?” He asked, brows shooting up with concern. 
You walked to the small coffee station the sheriff had set up for the team. “We’re just fighting.” You poured yourself some coffee. You couldn’t tell him everything. He was friends with Zac—and a really good one. 
“I don’t buy that,” Morgan insisted. “I know what your fights look like. This isn’t a fight over how he didn’t do the dishes.”
You hated how well he knew you. You and Zac. It was sad to think there wouldn’t be any more double dates with him and Savannah. 
“I don’t want to talk about it yet,” you merely said.
Morgan let out a huff and glared at you in silence. “Alright.” 
He respected you and didn’t bug you any more about it. And neither did Zac, thankfully. The messages and phone calls stopped but even then, you couldn’t get your mind off whatever he wanted to say. 
The day went by painfully slowly. Not many leads were found and the unsub seemed to have gone dormant, which meant the investigation was done for the day. 
Hotch, JJ, and Rossi were still finishing up a few things with the sheriff, and you decided to wait for them outside, sitting on the sidewalk. There was a dinner reservation at the hotel at nine. It was thirteen past nine and you’d been running on five cups of coffee. 
Your stomach rumbled. 
Steps came from behind. Morgan silently sat next to you and handed you a protein bar. He sat close, his arm touching yours. “Zac called me.” 
“Good for him.” You didn’t bother to look at him. Instead, you began to pick your nails. You weren’t hungry anymore. 
“And he told me.” Derek placed one hand over yours, stopping you from destroying your nails. 
You shot him a look. “What did he tell you?” You asked because you didn’t think Zac would rat himself out to Morgan. 
“I’m on your side,” he said. “He’s my friend, but you’re my sister. He’s dead to me now.” He quirked his brows. 
“What did he tell you, Morgan?”
“That you caught him cheating.” 
The disappointment on his face was as clear as the night sky.  
You tore your eyes off him and sighed.
“I was so stupid.” You rubbed your forehead. “I caught him in lies multiple times and I brushed them all off. Like a part of me wanted that to happen,” you confessed. 
“What do you mean? That you didn’t want to marry him?”
“I… I don’t know.” You looked back at Derek. Now that the truth was out you needed to talk about it. Maybe that way you could realize it was all your fault. “I loved him, and he was a great guy but at some point, after the engagement and before the lies, I stopped seeing a future with him. So I guess it’s my fau—”
“Nuh-uh.” Derek interrupted you, placing a finger over your lips. “He did this,” then booped your nose. 
You couldn't help but smile. “Yeah but I stopped being… a girlfriend to him,” you explained, moving your hands around to make your point. “I came home late, he’d wait for me with dinner but I just… stopped seeing him.” You sighed. It really was your fault to some extent now that you talked about it. “He sought the attention I stopped giving him on someone else. I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want… to be the person who just works and can’t balance it with personal life.”
“It’s tough.” 
“Yeah, but you seem to make it work with Savannah.” You nudged his arm.
They had the kind of love you aspired to have one day.
“It took us a while, but we made it work. Still do. It’s a good thing she also has a time-consuming job. She just gets it. But it takes a lot of effort from both parties.”
You nodded in agreement. “Zac and I are over. This isn’t something we can talk about and get through and forget or forgive. He betrayed me.” 
Derek hung one arm over your shoulder and kissed your temple. “I know.”
“At least I don’t have to plan a wedding anymore. It seems exhausting.”
“Oh, believe me, it is.”
You gasped and pulled away to look at him. He had a grin on his face now. That’s what you needed. A smile from him even if it made you forget for just a moment. “What? What does that mean? Did you propose?!” 
“Whoa, whoa.” Emily came from behind and joined the conversation right away, standing in front of you. “Who’s proposing?”
“Morgan,” you were quick to respond. Anything to avoid anyone else knowing you’d been cheated on.
“Shhh!” He stood up, signaling you both to shut up with a finger over his lips and looking around to make sure no one else heard. “I’m planning to, alright. Don't…. Freak out. She can say no.”
“She’d be silly to say no,” Emily laughed a little. “Are you kidding?”
“You’re already planning the wedding,” you laughed too while standing up. “Don’t pretend you expect her to say no.”
“Of course, she’s gonna say yes.” Derek grinned. “I’m just playin’.”
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On the way to the hotel, the team split into two SUVs and Hotch kept glancing at you through the rearview mirror at every red light and stop sign, with that know-it-all look, a pinch of concern. He was worried about you (and soon to be pissed for the stunt you pulled earlier). 
You got a triple room with Emily and JJ and you didn’t give them a chance to make any conversation with them since dinner was canceled.  You threw your bag over your bed and headed to the rooftop. You figured it’d be the only place none of the team would be. You needed fresh air, and you felt ready to talk to Zac. You reached the rooftop and pulled out your phone. Just the thought of hearing his voice tightened your throat. But you had to. You needed to know what he had to say.
You dialed his number and some agonizing butterflies still managed to flap their wings at the pit of your stomach with that first ‘hey’ on the other line. Tears welled up in your eyes. Your only witness was the moon hanging above and she wouldn’t judge you, so you finally allowed yourself to feel it.
His voice was a stab to your heart and a soft sob got caged in your throat. He said he was sorry, that he missed you, that he loved you. That you will always be the love of his life and that he knew he’d lost you. You muffled your sobs against your hand and once he was done talking, all you could reply was ‘okay’. 
Then you hung up.
“Damn it.” You let your phone slip through your fingers to cover your eyes with one hand while you braced yourself with the other arm. 
You stood there—for who knows how long—until a pair of unfamiliar arms enveloped you from the front. Their scent, though, was like home—faint and woody bathing you whole. You nestled against their chest and it only made you cry even more. 
“Shh. It’s okay.” 
Hotch’s voice snapped the knife out of your chest and he wasn’t about to let you bleed out. With one hand he caressed the back of your head, giving you soft scratches. The other rubbed your upper back with short and tender strokes. You weren’t planning on crumbling and you surely didn’t expect Hotch to be the one comforting you, but it felt right. You needed a hug and a gentle voice telling you it was okay to feel like this. 
Your entire relationship flashed before your eyes. You were mourning its death, after all., and there was no going back from it. You wouldn’t do that to yourself and had to accept that his laugh would eventually fade away from your memory and his eyes would no longer shine because of you—they haven’t for a while.
You peeled yourself from Hotch’s chest and noticed how his shirt was damp with your tears.
“Sorry, I—” you sniffed; looked up at him.
His soft eyes scanned your face for a moment. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ they asked, a sweet frown taking over his face. 
“You look like you need a drink,” he said instead.
You chuckled, nodding, even when the after-crying headache was creeping up on you. You would’ve taken the elevator to the first floor, but Hotch guided you through the staircase. 
“Were you up there when I got there?” you asked him. 
“No, I went there to clear my head and… found you standing there.”
After all these years working with him, he was still the hardest to read. “Is something bugging you?” you asked him. 
“No.”
Okay, then. You understood it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about (with you). 
You reached the first floor and headed to the bar. It wasn’t crowded, and Rossi was already there. You two joined him, each at either side of him.
“Ah, FBI agents,” Rossi told the bartender, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re not gonna interrogate me, are you?” he then asked you two.
“I don’t know. Should we?” Hotch asked with a tint of humor.
“You should interrogate her.” He gestured at you by twitching his mouth in your direction. “I heard she almost punched one of the victim’s husbands.”
“Thanks, Rossi.” You glared at him, and he couldn’t have cared less. 
“Is that true?” Hotch asked you, leaning a bit forward to glance at you over Rossi, even when the wall in front of you was a whole mirror. 
“Goodnight, kid.” Rossi slid off his stool. “Night Hotch. Keep an eye on her.”
“Great.” You glared at him again. “Just throw the grenade and run away.” He just laughed and waved a dismissive hand. He had clearly had quite a few drinks so you couldn’t blame him much.
“Is that true?” Hotch asked again.
“He was a jerk,” you responded, sipping on your drink. 
“That has nothing to do with it. Jerk or not, you can’t be acting like that.” His frown grew strong but his voice remained as soft as when he was comforting you moments earlier. 
“He cheated on her, Hotch.” You shot him a look through the mirror. “That’s why she went out and got abducted. Murdered.”
“I understand that, but we push our feelings aside, you know that.”
“I know.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Just… let it go, please. You know I won’t do it again.”
“Of course you won’t.” He took a short sip of his drink and looked forward, making eye contact with you through the mirror. “You’d be off the case if you pull something like that again.” 
A light bulb lit up over your head right then. 
“Do you think that’s why the unsub is targeting the victims?” You grabbed his forearm with excitement. “Because they got cheated on?”
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You were right and your tragedy helped save the last woman the unsub had abducted. You wrapped up the case with a bittersweet taste. 
On the flight home, Morgan sat next to you, and for some reason, you wished Hotch had sat there.
You searched for him on the jet and he’d chosen to sit farther back. You wanted to thank him for comforting you when he didn’t have to, and as if he’d read your mind—
Good job today—He texted—I know this was a particularly difficult case for you.
You lifted your head and caught him looking at you. You smiled at him as a response.
It was difficult, but it also helped you heal a little. 
Morgan nudged your arm gently, gesturing for you to take your headphones off. 
“Hm?” you raised your brows.
“Are you planning on going home now?” 
You sighed. “I have to.”
“You can stay with me for a few days. Savannah would be thrilled to have you over.”
“Thank you but I think that’d make me feel… small? I have to see him eventually. And I’d rather get it over with soon.” You smiled at him. “After that conversation, though, I’m not sure if I’ll have a place to stay so I’ll let you know if I need a place to crash for the night.”
“I’ll be there, then.”
When you made it to your place, Zac was waiting for you with dinner. You would’ve laughed, but you were too exhausted to even smile at him. 
“I’m just here to get my things,” you said, walking past him to your room.
You smelled fresh paint on your way there, and you really laughed then. He’d repainted the whole thing. Did he think changing the wall color would make you forget what happened there? 
“It’s your favorite color.” Zac stood at the door.
“You’re unbelievable.” You scoffed.
You threw all your belongings in two suitcases and left. 
To never come back.
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“You’re getting discharged.” Hotch drew open the curtain of your cubicle.
“What? What about Morgan?” You sat upright, keeping the ice close to the bump on your head. You’d been in a car crash in the middle of a prosecution. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. He just dislocated his shoulder.”
“Well, the doctor said I can’t fly, let alone drive.” You rolled your eyes. “So who’s driving me back to Quantico?”
“I am.” You couldn’t help but let out a huff. “Yeah, I’m not excited about it either.”
“It’s seventeen hours, Hotch. You don’t have to. I’m sure I can take an overnight bus or something.”
“You’re not taking any bus. You got a brain bleed. Someone’s gotta be there if something happens.” He glared at you. “Gather your things. I’ll bring the car. A nurse will walk you out.”
Your things were only your badge and gun. Everything else was still at the hotel, so you assumed you were going to make a stop there before hitting the road back to Quantico.  
You were officially discharged by your doctor minutes later and you’d underestimated Hotch’s efficiency. He’d already gone to the hotel to get your things. He even bought snacks—your favorite snacks. 
You reclined your seat and threw a blanket over you. Your head was much better but it still hurt despite you being high on painkillers.
“Are you cold? Do you want me to turn the heater on?”
“Not cold.” You assured him. You just wanted to make yourself cozy. “Hotch, I don’t know if I’m gonna handle a seventeen-hour drive.”
“I know.” He gave you a quick glance. “I don’t think I will either. We’ll make a stop if you need to. Just let me know.”
You dozed off and on during the first two hours—your eyes darting to Hotch’s firm hands on the steering wheel—until it started raining. Normally, you would’ve been on high alert since you weren’t a fan of driving when it rained, but it was Hotch who was driving. And he was a great driver. 
The sound of the thick drops hitting the windshield turned out to be a perfect lullaby and helped you fall into a deep and cozy slumber. A dream began to take over your mind at some point but it didn’t become one entirely. 
Loud noises dragged you out of it.
You blinked your eyes open. You were parked on the side road, and the rain wasn’t normal rain anymore. It was loud, hitting the rooftop like daggers. You feared it might fall through. 
“Are those hailstones?” You adjusted the seat back straight.
“Not yet,” Hotch responded. “But we can’t keep driving like this. I can barely see past the hood. It’s too dangerous.”
“I’m no weather expert but I’m sure there’s a storm coming.”
Hotch nodded in agreement. “We’ll have to make an emergency stop.” He pulled out his phone and typed something. “There’s a motel 3 miles away. We can spend a few hours there until the storm passes.”
“You just said it’s dangerous to keep driving.”
“It’s more dangerous to stay here or on the side of the road. Plus you need to rest. It’s been a long drive already.” 
Long? You glanced at the clock on the radio. 
“It’s been six hours already?!” Your eyes widened.
It didn’t feel like it, though.
“You snored half of it.” He teased, his soft dimples making their first appearance of the night.
“I did not,” you laughed a little. 
You knew he was just kidding, but you clearly needed those hours of deep sleep. Your headache was much better now.
Hotch kept the blinkers on as he started driving again, slowly until the map on his phone signaled him to turn right. 
There was a blue-light vacancy sign glitching. 
“This is it?” you asked. The place looked straight out of a horror film and the dark sky didn’t help.
“You stay here,” Hotch ordered. “I’ll check if they have any rooms.”
You didn’t disagree and locked the doors once he stepped out. Just in case. 
Minutes later, your phone buzzed.
There’s only one room available, Hotch texted you. 
Two beds? you texted back right away.
King, he replied.
Great. It was either sharing a bed with Hotch or staying in the car.
I don’t mind if you don’t, you texted. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal. Then you added, we’ll only be here a few hours until the rain stops, right?
Yes. Don’t move. I’ll come get you, he replied.
You gathered your things within reach, as gently as possible so your brain wouldn’t get all scrambled by sudden movements and unlocked the doors for Hotch.
He opened the door and ducked his head inside. “It’s the farthest room,” he raised his voice over the loud rain.
“That’s fine,” you matched his tone. “Let’s make one trip. I can carry my things.”
“You sure?” he frowned in an attempt to keep the rain out of his eyes.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” You nodded and stepped out of the car. 
Once you had your things and Hotch had his, he took the lead with you walking fast behind him with your head low. You both were already drenched so there was no point in running. 
The room was better than what you expected. It welcomed you with warm air, one bed, a small desk facing the window, an old TV, and a bathroom. They even had a small station with a kettle and tea/coffee, and the heater was on
You stripped out some of your clothes right next to the heater and changed your muddy shoes for your slippers. 
“Do you mind if I take the bathroom first?” You asked him.
“Not at all,” Hotch replied, ridding himself of some damp clothes.
You walked past him with your bag and locked yourself in the bathroom. You unlocked it right away. What if you passed out? It was going to be a quick shower to regulate your body temperature, but with a brain injury, you never knew. 
You were in and out of it in less than ten minutes and Hotch had already changed his clothes to sweatpants and a white t-shirt. It was always so strange seeing him out of his suits.
“Are you hungry?” He asked, hanging his clothes on the improvised drying rack he made out of the single chair and desk and placing it close to the heater. 
“A little.” You sat on the left side of the bed.
Hotch grabbed the snack bag and displayed what he’d bought over the bed. Along with your favorite snacks were some fruits and two instant noodle soups. The first time you pulled out one of those, Reid told you all about them and how they were some of the most cancerous foods there could be, but they were a guilty pleasure and you didn’t eat them often. 
“Take your pick,” he said. “I’ll take a shower now.”
He was being a good caretaker to you and you trusted him so all you had to do today and tomorrow was obey him. You could shut your brain down when Hotch was around.  
You turned the TV on to have some background noise and put on the news. The weather had been catastrophic already in some parts and they said it was going to last at least eight more hours. It was 8 pm so you didn’t mind waiting all night for it to pass. It was a cozy room, after all.
You prepared yourself the instant soup and sat cross-legged on the bed. Your phone buzzed against the mattress.
How’s your head? Morgan texted.
Better. Your shoulder?
I have a good doctor at home so I’ll be alright. How’s the trip going? 
The sky is falling here. We had to make a stop for the night. 
Sharing a room with the boss? ;) 
You didn’t know why he would say that or why you would lie about your answer, but you lied. 
Of course not! We’re gonna wait for the rain to pass before hitting the road again.
You hit send right when Hotch came out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. 
You put the phone down. “There’s still hot water in the kettle.”
You rarely saw him eat, and since all he bought were things you liked, you assumed he liked them too. He prepared his soup as well and sat on the other side of the bed.
“It looks pretty bad.” He glanced at the TV.
“They said it’s gonna last all night.”
Something was odd about him now. Maybe it was the fatigue of the trip that hit him after the shower. But he kept looking at his phone and putting it down. You saw him clench his jaw more than once. 
“Everything okay?” You had to ask.
He gave you a look. 
Everything was not okay.
He hesitated a moment, twisting the noodles with his fork but never taking a bite. 
“Beth got a job offer in Hong Kong.” Oh. “And she’s boarding the flight now.” Oh, no. “She asked my opinion before taking the job offer.” He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course, I encouraged her to take it. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
You didn’t want him to regret his choice about encouraging her—she put him between a rock and a hard place—but you had a string of questions about it. What if she asked for his opinion because she wanted to stay and settle, but needed him to say it?  
“So you let her go,” you said instead and he nodded. “How’s Jack handling it?”
“She talked to him, we took him to Orlando for the weekend and he understood it but”—he sighed—“I know it’s been hard on him, too.” You couldn’t imagine how his son was feeling. He was a kid and he’d lost someone, too. “But we ended it on good terms.” He raised his brows. 
“Why did you offer to drive me home?” You asked. “You could be there with her by now. At the airport.”
“We said our goodbyes.” He shook his head and looked down. “It would’ve made it more painful.” 
You hummed in agreement. “They say if you love someone, you let them go. If they come back, it means they’re truly yours.” He looked at you. “She could come back.”
His eyes were glassy. For some reason, you felt he was thinking about Haley, too. He was once again losing someone he loved—by choice this time but losing her nonetheless.
“Sorry,” he sort of laughed. “I’m talking about my heartbreak when…”
When you were recently heartbroken too. 
“Don’t worry about me. I’m—”
“Fine,” he finished your sentence. “Of course you are.” 
“I’m over it and I laugh about it now. I wasted three years of my life. My good years.” You chucked. “It's funny now.”
“It’s not. And you still have a few more good years ahead of you?” He commented, confused.
You talked as if your youth was already over but you had a good reason. “Yeah, but I’m not gonna be as hot as I was when I met him.” He smirked. “He went for a younger woman.” You then added. 
“Younger?” He raised his brows. 
“I know. I think that’s why I feel old. But she was a 25-year-old trainee.”
“That’s not much younger than you.” 
“You flatter me.” You let out a small laugh. “I just… Why do men always go for the younger woman?”
He took a subtle deep breath. “I—“
“Generally speaking,” you added. “Men who cheat go for a younger woman.”
“I don’t know but I’m sure Reid can give you all the statistics about it.”
“Yeah,” you scoffed. “I don’t wanna hear them.” 
You let out a yawn, and soon Hotch did too. You two agreed in silence it was time for bed already.
“It’s not cold in here so I’ll sleep over the bed covers,” he commented.
“Hotch, you don’t have to. I don’t mind, honestly. I’ve shared beds with most of our team.”
“Alright,” he let out a small laugh, raising his brows. 
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The rain stopped around 5 am and within thirty minutes you both were up and ready to hit the road again. There were ten hours ahead of you and this time you didn’t feel the need to sleep through it. You slept like a baby last night and also, talking to Hotch was really nice, and he seemed well-rested too. 
You stopped for a quick breakfast two hours in and had it in the car to optimize time. Throughout the drive, there were talks about the landscapes and weather and he’d throw in some random stories about his brother, or Haley and Jack when something reminded him of them.  
Your favorite was how he and Jack had a tradition whenever it rained: chocolate chip cookies. And how Jack had already decided that he was going to do the same with his kids one day. 
And the more the clock ticked, the more you wished he’d slow down his speed (even when he was going just below the limit). You didn’t want the trip to end, but it had to eventually.
Around 3 pm. Hotch was dropping you off at your place.
“It’s a nice neighborhood,” he commented. Only Derek had had the chance to visit your new place.
“It is. It’s mostly old people that live here so it’s very quiet all the time.” You smiled. Silence filled the air for a moment. You missed him already. “Hey, I know we’re both exhausted but… would you like to come in? We can make some decent lunch.”
Hotch took a subtle deep breath. “I would. I’d love to but… Jack’s waiting for me. I was supposed to arrive yesterday and he was excited to see me. I… I’m picking him up at school after this.”
“Oh, yeah, of course.” You gulped. Stupid.
Why did you feel nervous around him all of a sudden?
“Maybe some other time?” He asked.
Your stomach fluttered. 
“Definitely.”
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Spencer was turning 33, and Penelope thought throwing him a surprise birthday party was a good idea. She asked everyone to show up earlier than usual to decorate a conference room. You were the first one to show, then one by one everyone arrived. 
The only one you wanted to see walking through the door, though, wasn’t the birthday boy. It was Hotch. 
After the gloomy night at the motel, Hotch became a permanent thought. You didn’t know if it was because he took such good care of you, or because he trusted you to tell you a personal thing—or both—but since that night, something changed.
You’d always admired him, but this was more than that. Your cheeks grew warm whenever he looked at you. You started to feel like a schoolgirl with a crush. And you felt ridiculous. He was your boss, he’d been your boss for five years so why had your feelings changed? 
The truth was, you’d always had certain feelings for him. Nothing ever happened before because you met him as a divorced man, who only had time for his kid and his job, so at the time, besides your boss, he was a nice face to look at (a very nice face). Then Haley's death came and he shut himself down, drowning himself in work. You started dating Zac soon after, then you didn’t have eyes for Hotch anymore. He became who he was: your boss. 
Now, that both were single, your true feelings for him were coming afloat. Of course, you didn’t let them show; how your stomach fluttered at his sudden presence and constant glances. You insisted those were in your head, that he’d always looked at you the same amount or the same way, but when the attraction is reciprocated, there’s a spark. 
That spark almost lit up a fire in your chest when he finally showed up. The lights were off, but you’d recognize his silhouette anywhere, and he was walking up to you.
“Hey,” he whispered, standing next to you.
“You’re late,” you whispered back.
“Is Reid here?”
“No, but we did all the work.”
“I’m… the boss for a reason.”
You held back a laugh. Thank god it was dark.
“Shhh, there he comes!” Penelope whispered loudly. 
Everyone moved to their assigned spot and your hand accidentally brushed his in the process. “Sorry.”
It’s okay, he whispered. 
That accidental touch was the first of many not-so-accidental.
You tried to convince yourself it was all in your head, but he looked at you, paid attention, listened to every word you had to say. He saw right through you. 
There weren’t many moments outside work, though, and that confused you even more. You couldn't ask him to see each other casually. It wasn’t something you or he did, and it made you wonder. You wondered. Always. Every day. Every hour. Every time you looked at him you wondered what was going through his mind. 
Weeks went by where unspoken words were said. Your feet itched to go to his office every time you knew he was going to stay until late. To offer him some coffee, or ask him if he needed help with something but all you always ever did was turn in your reports and linger there for a second or two, hoping he’d ask you to stay. 
And tonight was no exception. You had your excuse to stay late this time, though. A doctor's appointment forced you to clock in late, and for that, you had to stay to meet your weekly worked hours. 
Everyone had left, even the janitors. 
Everyone except for Hotch, of course. 
You glanced at your watch when you finally finished your last report. It wasn’t even an appropriate time to have dinner. You were dreaming of your bathtub and a glass of wine with some cheese.
You stacked your folders and adjusted your skirt before going to Hotch's office to hand them in. You knocked three times and waited for his Come in! to enter the room. 
You walked in and he wasn’t at his desk as he usually was. He was on his couch, with only the lamp lights on; he’d removed his jacket and had his sleeves rolled up right below his elbows. 
“Hey, I… I finished my reports.”
He looked at you—stared. You swore a faint smile was curling the corner of his lips. “Toss them on my desk.”
You slowly walked in and did as he said. “Are you… leaving soon?” you clasped your hands behind you.
“I don’t think so.”
“Is there… something I can help you with?” You gestured at the folder he was holding.
He paused for a second before replying, “Yes, actually.” He scooted to give you space on the couch. “Close the door.”
You did as he said and sat next to him, but not quite close. He put the folder on the coffee table and spread all the documents, filling in every gap.
“Choose,” he said. 
You laughed. “What?” 
“Our next case.”
“Oh, I’m not… I don’t think I’m qualified to do that, am I?”
“There’s a reason I’m asking you to choose.” He raised his brows to make his point. 
Your eyes flickered between pictures and reports. Neither was worse than the other. “Well, it’s not like I can choose, right? You have to… study each one of these murders to decide which one has more priority. Which is… a bit twisted. As if one is less important than the other.”
“It’s hard.” 
“And you do it every time.”
Hotch nodded. “JJ used to do it when she was the liaison. Now she still does when I can’t or ask her to since she has the right criteria, but it’s on me now.” He raised his brows as he spoke. 
Your eyes were stuck on his lips, a sudden urge to kiss him brewing in your chest. 
“I don’t know how you do your job without breaking down sometimes,” you said. He smiled, scanning your face up and down. God, you really wanted to kiss him. “I mean your unit chief job.” You tore your eyes off him and adjusted yourself a bit farther on the couch. You had the perfect view of the side of his head.  
Hotch leaned forward resting his elbows over his knees and lowered his head. “It’s… the one thing I’m good at.”
“Not the only thing,” you let out a breathy laugh. He turned to you, raising his brows as if he were waiting for you to mention another thing he was good at. “You’re a great dad, Hotch,” you said without hesitation. 
“I,” he licked his lips. “I could be better.”
“We all could be better at everything, doesn’t mean we’re bad at it.”
Hotch sighed. “You’re right.”
“You’re also… good at sports?”
“Stop.” He chuckled, lowering his head once again. 
You rubbed his back by impulse, and you withdrew it right away as you felt him tense up. Your hand tingled at that brief contact and it burnt when he reached for it and enveloped it with his large hand. Your heart rate skyrocketed and all you could hear was your pulse in your ears (not that any of you was saying anything anymore).
He turned his head to you, adjusting farther back so his back would rest on the couch. Your shoulders touched now, and his hand was still on yours and this time, his thumb caressed your knuckles, and his eyes were stuck on your face. 
The urge to kiss him was flush against your skin. 
“You should go home,” he said, swallowing thickly. “It’s late.”
“Yeah,” you licked your lips. “I really should.”
He let go of your hand and with the same one, you caressed the side of his head where a few satly strands of hair were gloriously shining. You put the short pieces behind his ear and cradled his face. You held your breath. What the hell were you doing? 
A pained frown took over his face and he shut his eyes for a second. You wanted to kiss the frown away so you leaned, kissing his cheek. He tilted his face until the tip of your nose was touching his. 
His shaky breath ghosted your lips. 
Would a kiss on the lips be so bad?
You were closing the gap before you thought about the answer. Your lips touched—a soft peck—and there was barely a sound when you pulled away.
“I’m sorry I”— You placed your fingers over your lips right away.
Hotch wasn’t giving you any signs of anything at all and panic began to take over you. 
God, what have you done?
Your name came out of his mouth in a whisper filled with longing. He was leaning closer. He studied your face from up close as he paused. His nostrils flared and he licked his bottom lip before going for a kiss. Just as tender as yours. 
At first.
One of his hands found a spot on the side of your thigh while the other went to the back of your neck, bringing you closer and allowing the kiss to intensify. His chin scraped yours with his barely noticeable beard and his lips were gentle despite his sudden urge. 
Nothing could’ve prepared you for this—him kissing you back or reciprocating any sign of affection. But he was, and he was getting so into it his tongue was already teasing yours. 
A small moan escaped you when he opened his mouth a bit more. Your breathing quickened with each kiss and when your tongues finally tangled together, you lost it. 
“C’mere.” He murmured against your lips.
You hopped on his lap and gave yourself in. You wrapped your arms around his neck tight and pressed your hips down. It became sloppy with each kiss already and only heavy breathing filled the room. His heavy breathing. 
He was so needy for you.
This wasn’t how you expected your night to go, but you were ecstatic. No matter how far this went, it already was much better than your bathtub. 
You let go of his lips for a second. You needed to catch some air. 
“Aaron.” 
You’d never called him by his first name. Never, and right then you wished you’d done it sooner. It seemed to have awakened something in him. He groaned into another kiss and grabbed your hips tightly, encouraging you to move them. 
He liked it. He loved it. 
You obeyed, grinding him and going back for another kiss. His hands were still shy, hesitantly resting at the curves of your hips. You pressed your hips down. His hard bulge was right there. You couldn’t help but bite his bottom lip, cupping his face harshly with both hands as if he could go anywhere. He was a prisoner of your body; you had him caged with your legs and arms and he didn’t seem to mind at all. 
His hands raked down your curves, lower on either side of your hips and slowly traveled down, cupping your ass and guiding you back and forth. 
Hotch’s lap was heaven on earth. 
You moaned into a wetter kiss, tongues gliding together. You were embarrassingly loud now. He smiled against your lips. 
“Sorry.” You let out a small, embarrassed laugh, pressing your foreheads together.
His chest was heaving in and out as he tried to regulate his breathing. His hands went up to your lower back and he pulled you close into a tight and tender hug. 
A sudden clarity hit you. This shouldn’t have happened. He was your boss for fucks sake. You were sure, that once you came out of his office, you would lose your job. The one you fought so hard for. 
“I… I have to go.” You slid off his lap and stood in front of him, adjusting your skirt. 
He was staring up at you through his dark lashes and you couldn’t look at him without feeling embarrassed. You wiped your lips clean and took a few steps back. 
“I am so sorry this—” You took a few more steps backward on your way to the door and turned all the way, giving him your back.
Hotch stood up, his broad silhouette taking a few steps towards you. He said your name with his deep, deep, oh-so-deep voice as your hand touched the knob. He was right behind you now, his torso glued to your back and his arms wrapped around your waist. 
You shut your eyes as he inhaled your hair.
You locked the door.  
“Are you sure?” he murmured next to your ear. 
All you could do was nod. 
He flipped you around by your hips, capturing your mouth, body, and soul. This time he groaned like an animal, hungry for you. God, he was desperate and your entire body fluttered. Your knees when weak right when he scooped you by your thighs and walked with you towards his desk, plopping you there while knocking everything down with one hand. 
No words were necessary. His hands talked for him and the kiss was never-ending. You were a fucking mess already. You were at his will, so open to let him do anything he wanted with you. 
To you. 
The air was getting hotter and the layers of clothes began to bother you. His body heat and breath were to blame. He was everywhere. 
He sneaked one hand in between your legs and gripped your inner thigh, his thick fingers sinking into your flesh. You squirmed over the wood, encouraging him to go a little higher. He did, the tip of his fingers ghosting your panties. They were damp with your arousal already (you’d felt it leak through you when you were kissing on the couch), and by the way he smiled, he could feel it. He lifted your skirt up to your waist and pressed himself onto you, his erection finding your cunt like a magnet. He cursed under his breath, looking down at where your bodies touched the most. But not quite. 
You wanted to touch him, feel how hard he was. You palmed his thick bulge and gulped. Your mouth went dry as you began to massage the outline of his erection while making eye contact, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth. 
“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered. 
There were so many clothes in the way, making it hard to focus but then he grabbed your jaw and looked into your eyes and whatever was about to come, was the best thing that would ever happen to you.
He sneaked his fingers from the side of your panties, the wet sound of your arousal against his fingers was embarrassing. But it made him drop his head to your shoulder. He cursed again and began to massage you, spreading your arousal all over with his thick fingers. Your cunt clenched, desperate to have him inside you. You cursed under your breath with pleasure as his fingers found your wet entrance. He made circular motions without entering, teasing you. 
He was driving you insane, too.  
“Hotch,” you murmured, I need you, you wanted to say, but he shushed you. Gently. Tenderly. Shushed you with an open-mouth kiss. 
You whimpered against his mouth and with clumsy hands, undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants, sneaking your hand inside to touch his length. Finally. You whined again at that first touch. His skin was burning.
“Would you fuck me?” you whispered, wrapping your fingers around his length. They barely covered him. 
“Of course, sweetheart. Just give me a minute. Let me feel you.”
He moved his fingers up and down between your wet folds, feeling you as he’d said. He knew exactly what he was doing, he was skilled, gentle and put the perfect amount of pressure.
But you were growing desperate. 
“Please, Hotch.”
He didn’t give you any warning and in one fell swoop, he had his length out. Fuck. His cock stood on its own—thick and long—so close to your cunt. The tip glistened with his arousal. 
“Scoot to the edge,” he ordered. 
You did as he said and he lined himself at your entrance and barely pushed the head inside. You both let out a quiet moan at the same time.
God, it felt good. He felt good. You both looked down and watched as he slowly entered, inch by inch until he was all the way inside. He looked at you then and you lost it. 
Aaron Hotchner was fucking you. Aaron Hotchner, whom you admired and respected. Aaron Hotchner, the man who has been messing with your head these past few months. 
This was an eye-opening experience. Paradise on earth. How have you gone so many years without him? New feelings were brewing in your chest with each thrust, each stare, and each kiss. 
You gripped the back of his head and pulled him closer as he began to move, rocking his hips back and forth. You’d milked his dark and thick curls with your arousal already, making each slam sticky to your skin. 
His cock was exquisite, spreading you open and reaching every right spot. 
“You feel so good, fuck, fuck, fuck.” You couldn’t resist. 
He kept fucking you until your butt went numb, you needed to finish but you didn’t want this to end. Ever
You showed your discomfort by adjusting over the desk.
Bend over, he whispered on your lips. 
He kissed you one last time before you hopped off the desk and obeyed, bending over his desk and glancing at him over your shoulder, ready to take him. He squeezed your ass with both hands and lined himself again. He teased you, pulling it out and moving it up and down. You let out a needy hum, wiggling your ass, begging for his cock.
He entered again and this time, he was ruthless. He slammed into you, hard. Then again. And again. Over and over until the only sound in the room was the clash of skin against skin. You had to muffle your moans—and smile—by biting your forearm. 
Fuck, fuck, fuck. God, Aaron Hotchener fucked good. So good you were seeing stars already and so close to grazing the sky. 
He bent down too for a moment just to bring you up close into a hug. “Come here.” You already knew he liked having you close.
He sneaked one hand from the front and massaged your clit as his thrust became sloppy. You threw your head back to his shoulder, and he captured the underside of your chin between his teeth. 
This was it. The beginning of an addiction you never wanted to rid yourself of.
There were a few more slams before he came. Hard. He was a vocal man. Grunting and groaning and cursing quietly as his cock twitched inside you. 
Your legs were shaking, and if it wasn’t because he was holding you, you were sure you would’ve fallen to your knees. And he didn’t let go of you for a moment, his cock still inside you. 
You needed to know what he was thinking, see his face. 
You took a sharp breath to speak, but he slipped his cock out and you gasped. His cum dripped down.
“Sorry,” he murmured and was quick to clean you with a tissue. 
You finally turned around and caught a look on his face you hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t guilt. It wasn’t disappointment. But it wasn’t a positive thing. 
“This“—he began, buttoning his pants—“changes everything.” He glared at you. 
You adjusted your skirt and pressed your lips together. “I know.” 
“And it can’t happen ever again.” Your heart dropped to your stomach for a second as he added, “Not here.” A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lip
You pressed your lips together, hiding a smile.  
“Yes, sir. Won’t happen again.” You walked up to him, placing your palm flat over his chest. His heart was still racing. “Not here.”
You kissed him, and he kissed you back.
“Should we, uh, leave together?” you asked, licking your lips.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He caressed your cheek with his thumb. “You can leave first.”
“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” 
“See you tomorrow.” He nodded and stole another kiss before you left.
You walked out of the building so put together as if nothing had happened, and kept a straight face until you were inside your car.
“Holy fuck,” you laughed; squealed, almost.
That really happened. You covered your face with both hands trying to come back to earth. 
You decided to drive off before Hotch appeared in the parking lot, or else you wouldn’t resist taking him right there all over again. You replayed what had happened in your head the entire drive and as soon as you made it home, he texted you. 
I hope you know this isn’t something casual or unimportant to me. 
You smiled. You loved that he couldn’t hide his professionalism when texting. 
I know, you texted back, for me either. Believe me
Good, he replied.
Goodnight, Hotch. I’ll see you tomorrow.
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Tomorrow came and from the moment you laid eyes on each other, you agreed: no one could know about it. 
He explained to you, when no one was around, how relationships within the bureau had a reputation. It would’ve been different if he was at the same level as you, but since he was your superior, it wouldn’t be well seen. 
So this being a secret was more for him than for you, but you didn’t mind. It was such a rush. The whole forbidden thing did something to you, which caused you to be horny at work more than once. 
But he made up for it when you saw each other at his place or yours. 
There, it was different. You allowed yourself to be softer and he didn’t hold back any kiss or touch. His affection confused you, though, since the talk hadn’t come up yet. The ‘what are we?’ talk, and you didn’t want to be the girl who asked that after the second date.
There was sex—lots of it—, there were dinners, movie nights, and everything couples did, so it made sense if you asked, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to spoil the magic. 
Because it was magical, your lives took an awful turn when you got your hearts broken and you both were right at the curve to meet each other. He’d been there, in front of you this whole time and a fragment of you glued back together every time he stared into your eyes while nothing was said. While he caressed your face and kissed you just because he wanted to. He managed to heal you between the lines, with subtle words that’d get stuck at the back of your mind. 
And the more you two met outside work—whether it was at his place or yours, his bed, or a fancy hotel room—your feelings for him intensified. 
They were worse on nights like these, when you found yourself tangled between sheets with him after sex, talking about anything and everything. 
He often had an expression of everlasting love. 
At least, you liked to think that way. 
“What are you thinking?” He asked you with that glimmer in his eyes.
You sucked in a breath and brushed the front pieces of his hair with your fingers. “Did you get Morgan’s wedding invitation?”
You don’t know why, but he laughed. “I did, yes.”
“I think we should bring a date.”
“Why?”
“We have a plus one and… I don’t know. I’m gonna be wearing a dress so for your sake, I should have a date. That isn’t you.”
“Oh, really?” He teased, placing a kiss on your ear. 
“This is inappropriate, Agent Hotchner, I’m your subordinate.” You laughed. You were ticklish there.
���Not when you’re in my bed.” He adjusted himself on top of you, lowering to kiss you. “And don’t pretend you don’t love it.”
You laughed again. 
You loved it.
Loved him. 
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I hope you liked it!!! I’d love to hear your thoughts about it too!🤭❤️‍🔥
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sheisjoeschateau · 2 months
Text
"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | Part X
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⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+
CHAPTER X WARNINGS/NOTES: t.w.'s - strong language, more angst, mention of dr*g abuse during childhood trauma, mentions of death and injuries, Max in a coma, fearful tears, shared sadness, major end-of-the-world terror talk. 18+
AUTHOR'S NOTE: As we dive deeper into just how in love Steve and Bauman continue to fall...we also dive deeper into darkness.
We get a glimpse into the childhood past of Bauman Squared.
Steve finally gets to laugh again with his kids -- and with the girl he wants to have his own kids with one day.
Dr. Owens comes back, but it's not why they expected. Erica is given the hardest burden of all. Robin & Eddie are the whacky aunt and uncle that everyone needed and basically get shit back on track while being thrown hard news. Argyle is actually just a kind dude. Nancy is pulling away, while Jonathan finally feels the gut-punching gravity of what he is losing. Jopper is still carrying the weight of both worlds.
And surprise, b*tches: DIMITRI IS BACK AND BOY IS HE SOOO BACK.
Lastly: chicken nuggets. That is all.
WHILE THIS IS A FANFICTION STORY: IT IS STILL MY WRITING. PLEASE RIGHTFULLY CREDIT ME WHEN REPOSTING OR SHARING. I DO NOT GRANT YOU PERMISSION TO POST MY WRITING AS YOUR OWN. - MISHA @sheisjoeschateau PROOFREAD UNTIL MY EYES BLED. IF THERE ARE STILL TYPOS, SORRY BOUT IT. 18+
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OH SO WE DO LOVE STEVE | Chapter X
“Why do I feel like this is some sort of twisted intervention?”
Erica Sinclair stood in the kitchen next to Murray as he cooked up something to share with a table of adults and teens — plus her.
“In a way, it is,” Murray responded to her as he stirred his ingredients. 
“...okayyyy,” Erica sassed, suspiciously.  “...then why do you want me here but not my brother or my other friends?”
Murray rolled his eyes.  Erica’s attitude was truly the one thing that could bring Murray’s entire mental empire crumbling down like a tower of cards being blown over by a gust of wind.  He pointed his spatula in her direction.
“Think of it this way, kiddo,” he said through a wry, condescending smirk.  “It’s like getting invited to sit at the adults’ table instead of the kids’ table for thanksgiving.  And you’re the only one we’re inviting before you get to go up there and hang out with your little friends.  Alright?”
Erica narrowed her eyes.  “What do I need to know that they don’t?”
Sauce dripped from the spatula as he stared at her.  Christ, she was relentless.  Then again…at least she seemed somewhat perturbed by the idea of knowing things before her brother and their friends.  That was pretty damn selfless for Erica Sinclair.  She cocked an eyebrow at Murray — who squinted back at her.
“Okay, why are you not as willing about this as I thought you’d be…”
“Look,” Erica said, crossing her arms.  “If I’m going to be made to keep a secret?  I need to know all the facts first.  Especially if I have to keep it from my brother.  And Steve.  And Bauman.”
Murray sighed through his nose.  She was right.  Mature, and right.
“I don’t want you to keep it a secret for good,” Murray clarified, speaking slowly.  “I just — we just need you to be made aware of some things before we bring it to everyone else’s attention.  And truth be told?  Harrington needs a break.  So does my niece.  And your friends?  They need some time with mom and dad.  You do, too.  But right now?  You’re the party member in charge of taking on some big information before we spread it to the rest of them.  And quite frankly?  I’m counting on you to help me — and the rest of us — help break it to them.  Got it?”
Erica let all of that land, her guarded expression softening into one of civil understanding.  She pursed her lips, considering this.  Finally, she nodded.
“Alright.  Deal.”
Murray shot her a thumbs up, resuming his cooking.
“That’s really lumpy,” Erica pointed to his saucepan with a soured expression.
“Ohforheaven'ssake —”
__________________________
Robin had taken on laundry duty on Steve’s behalf, knowing that Jonathan intended to talk with him.  Which is why she’d asked Nancy to help her with it, and it has turned out to be a good thing.
Nancy was clearly fraying at the seams.  There was a lot going through her mind, and it was all spiraling fast.  She needed someone to talk to, but none of her options seemed safe. 
She had no idea how or when to break everything she had been feeling to Steve. 
Her relationship with Jonathan was so tense and strained, any conversation shared with him had just blown up. 
And her mom would need to know everything about the upside down, in order to give her proper advice…and at this rate, that option seemed to have no place in this world. 
She couldn’t go to Joyce, because that’s Jonathan’s mom. 
Hopper and Murray were out of the question. 
She wasn’t close enough with Eddie to even consider it. 
And Argyle?  Well, he’d said about as much as he could say.  Far more than what she’d expected, if she was being honest.  
Nancy’s only other option was Robin Buckley.
“God, I swear — the air’s a disease at this point.”
Robin had sat next to Nancy on the porch, carrying the laundry basket.  Nancy quickly wiped a few stray tears, which Robin pretended not to notice – even when Nancy shot her a very forced, tight-lipped grin.
“Yeah,” Nancy chuckled wetly.  “It’s uhh, yeah.  Plagued at this point.  Thanks, Vecna.”
Robin nodded with a smirk.  “Yeah.  Thanks a lot, Vecna.  Fuck you, man.”
That made Nancy giggle, which Robin was grateful to see.  She decided to start off slow, not wanting to force anything.  After all, clearly Nancy was clearly going through it.  And the way she and Robin had started off?  Not great.  Buckley was definitely not trying to push her luck.  Sure, the two of them had gotten along super well as time passed, truly becoming friends while living in Steve’s house.  But they weren’t exactly best friends.  Friends for sure.  But not like Nancy and Barb had been.  Not even close.
“You know,” Robin mused.  “Sometimes, I think back to high school and how…I never really had a best friend while I was there.  Not like you did.”
That made Nancy turn to look at her, curiosity radiating for her bright blue eyes.
“You and Barb,” Robin explained.  “You two were thick as thieves.  She always made sure to take extra notes in Click’s class for you.”
Nancy’s eyes shone with melancholy fondness.  “She did…?”
“Yeah,” Robin smiled.  “Always.  Saved them on little flashcards and everything.  She was always like, ‘I gotta make sure I get this for Nance.’  Or whenever something crazy went down in the classroom, I could tell she was just itching to tell you about during lunch or after school.”
Nancy beamed at that.  She shook her head, grinning widely.  “God, I swear… Barb was like — like that little old lady who couldn’t help but wanna gossip.  Even though she hated drama, she loved it at the same time.  As long as it wasn’t hers or ours.”
“That totally tracks,” Robin snorted.  “What an icon, really.”
“Schyeah,” Nancy giggled wholeheartedly.  “Yeah, she…she was the best.”
Robin watched as Nancy gnawed at her lip, feeling the wave of sadness wash over her.  
“I just wish…” Nancy murmured, voice shaky.  “Just wish that I could…talk to her sometimes, you know?  Not just to tell her how sorry I am.  For everything that happened before she…”
Nancy’s voice trailed off.  Robin dared to reach over and touch her shoulder, relieved when Nancy didn’t push her away or tense underneath her touch.
“I just wanna ask her questions,” Nancy’s voice shook.  “So many questions, like…like the way we used to.  As best friends.  About — everything.  Life, family, love…friends…the end of the fucking world…”
Robin nodded.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I know.”
Because Robin did know.  Whenever she had become best friends with Steve, it had made her world significantly brighter.  Her heart was full, and her soul had been lifted out of its constant anxiety-ridden state.  Robin had been so closed off to bonding with anyone, especially the likes of Steve Harrington.  Little did she know, that guy would end up being her truest best friend and confidant.  The one she could lean on, tell anything to and count on for the rest of her life.  However short that might be, given the end of the world… But she had Steve by her side, trusting him with every secret she had and her literal life in his hands.  
Barb had been that for Nancy.  But she was gone.
“I don’t know what to do,” Nancy’s voice cracked.  She looked over at Robin with tear rimmed eyes, fighting them from falling as she bit down on her trembling lip.  “About…anything.”
Robin kept listening, wanting so badly to go on a rant but willing herself not to.  Because right now, it’s Nancy who needs to rant.  She needed to ramble until she couldn’t anymore.
“I’ve been so…God, I’ve been so in love with Jonathan since we met and…got through all of this together.  It just…just...worked.  Clicked, made sense.  Way more sense than Steve, but — but Steve and I, we…what we had was…it was real.  Really real.  Even Barb saw it, she just — just didn’t want me getting hurt, or…losing myself for a guy.  But I didn’t really.  Steve never pushed me to do anything that I didn’t wanna do, or…wasn’t ready for.  Ever.  Not once.  He was kind to me, and…and I feel like…like I just… I think I’m the one who did wrong by him.  Not the other way around.  All because I just felt so…lost, and conflicted, and scared, and unsure, and…and…”
Nancy curled in on herself, tears falling down her cheeks as she ducked her face out of sight.  But Robin scooched closer to her, enveloping her into a comforting embrace as she wept.  And Nancy let her, allowing herself to lean against her.
“I told him what we had was bullshit and it wasn’t,” Nancy cried bitterly.  “It wasn’t, he's not -- I was just…so fucking mad that Barb was gone.  And it was easier to blame Steve, all because he wasn’t hurting the way that I was.  The way that I still am.  But that’s — that’s n-not — b-because he d-doesn’t…c-care…”  
Nancy’s shoulders convulsed, and Robin’s heart broke for her as she held her tighter.
“B-but Jonathan had lost Will, so h-he…he got it.  H-he knew wh-what I was…going through… And I-I j-just felt...so r-right with him.  Because l-looking at him didn’t remind me of…of…”
Nancy choked on a sob.  
Robin knew she meant Barb.  She didn’t have to say it.
“I’m angry.  For me, for Barb, for Steve, for Jonathan…my mom, dad, Mike…everyone.  All the time.  And I just d-don’t know what to do, because…Jonathan shut me o-out, and w-wanted to b-break up with m-me all because he felt like…he was…holding me back, and wouldn’t just t-talk…to me…and then S-Steve… Steve, h-he wanted me back b-but now…h-he…he loves…he loves…”
Nancy ugly cried into her palms, muffling the noise so that it wouldn’t be heard from anyone inside.  Robin clung to her, rocking them back and forth with some gentle, soothing shushes.
“He loves her, Robin,” Nancy cried, heartbreak and anguish lacing her voice.  “He loves her, and s-she loves him back.  S-so much…b-better than I d-did…and I…I should be…so h-happy for him.  And h-her, but I just…I just…wonder if I…did I…did I m-mess up…?  Did I lose the p-person I was s-supposed to b-be with?  I just didn’t…think he’d…move on…and that’s so…fucking SELFISH of me…”
Robin squeezed her.  “It’s not selfish.  It’s human.  Steve is amazing.  But Nancy…it’s okay that you didn’t go back to him.”
“But you thought I should,” Nancy leaned back now.  She looked at Robin dead in the eye with bloodshot, red rimmed eyes.  They swam in regrets, sorrows and bitterness.
“You and Eddie both thought that we should,” she said, voice croaked and upset.  “Y-you both…thought that we…shouldn’t have…broken up, or…”
“You’re right,” Robin admitted, feeling bad but deciding it was best to just own up to it.  “You’re right, I did.  We did.  Me and Eddie.  But Nancy…sometimes we’re just so distracted by what seems right…that we can’t see what’s actually right in front of us.”
Nancy looked at her quizzically.  Robin sighed.
“Look, when you left Steve,” Robin explained, taking her hand into both of hers.  “Back in senior year, and you got with Jonathan…you two had your own journey.  You had each other.  Steve?  Steve had no one during his — except for the kids…and Bauman.  Because back then, he didn’t know yet.  He didn’t know about her and Murray intervening —”
“Yeah, I know,” Nancy said bitterly.  “We all know that now.”
“Just hear me out,” Robin pleaded with her softly.  “I promise, I’m with you, alright?”
Nancy stared at her for a moment, finally softening her tense jaw and nodding once.  Robin picked back up, on cue.
“Steve still had a lot of growing up to do.  On his own.  Dustin was the first to reach out to him.  Well, he basically forced himself on Steve.  And Steve needed that.  He’s an only child.  He needed a little brother to give him grief, and boss him around and pick on him.  You have Mike.  Steve didn’t have that until Dustin wormed his way into his life." Robin added with a smile, " ...and his heart.”
Nany thought about that, expression pensive with realization.
“Then Bauman came along,” Robin continued.  “She was Steve’s age… You and Jonathan were off with the adults.  He got left behind to watch the kids with her.  They went through…a lot of shit that night.  You did, too.  But so did they.  They fought off Billy Hargrove.  They protected the kids, fought off the demodogs in the tunnels.  They survived the night together.  You know what that feels like.  You and Jonathan bonded that way.  Right?”
Nancy hesitates but looks back at her, sniffing.  Eventually, she nods again.
“Right," Robin exhales deeply, proceeding. "So Steve… Steve had someone his age to be around, along with the kids.  And that was great.  Because she’s independent and badass, but also really chill and down to earth.  Like, some sort of femme tomboy.  Which Steve lowkey kind of needed, she really was exactly what --"
“Robin, I get it,” Nancy snapped, not wanting to hear about you in a complimentary way.  At least not at this moment.
“No, hear me out,” Robin insisted, giving her hands another squeeze.  “You need to hear this, Nancy, alright?  You know you’re beautiful.  You know Steve has been helplessly in love with you for years.  That’s not even a question.”  
Robin paused, shifting gears again as she refused to let Nancy look away from her.  
“...but Steve had to move on.  Or…find ways to convince himself that he could.  And Bauman?  She was there for that.  She was around, during all his growth.  And trust me – it was ugly.  You have nothing to envy there.  God, the way that they argued?  The way Steve talked to her, honestly?  Honestly.  You would’ve slapped him.  I sure as hell did a few times.  Mostly verbal slapping.  But I hit him a few times, not gonna lie.  You’ve seen the highlights of Steve’s growth.  You have seen the best parts of him, but…but Bauman was there for all of it.  She got to see it all happen in real time, from the second you and Jonathan met back up with them to right now.  And she owned up to her shit, too.  It wasn’t her fault, by no means was it her fault.  But hey, she took the hits.  Many times.  And she still ended up falling in love with Steve, who she swore was the last person who would ever win her over.  Those two knuckleheads were relentless whenever I came into the picture.  Fighting like lovers in a quarrel with absolutely zero history of affection to show for it.  But still, they got through shit together.  They put their differences aside for the kids, and when it came to fighting off the Russians?  She and Steve honestly kept me so sane.  And they kept us safe, too.  Me, Dustin and Erica.  They didn’t get along in the real world, but in the upside down world?  They did.  They didn’t even think twice.  Steve grew into a way better person because of her.  And she opened up a lot more because of him, and the kids.  She didn’t grow up with siblings either.  That’s another thing they have in common.”
Nancy took all of that in with a solemn expression.  Robin let that sink in before continuing.
“I know this is…a lot.  But really, Nancy…so much happened while you were gone.  Those two fell in love over time without even knowing it.  Shit, we didn’t know it either.  That was a plot twist for all of us — including Murray.  Despite what he says, that guy does not know everything.”
Nancy scoffed.  “I know that.”
“Of course you do.  We all do.  He does, too.  Especially now.  Now that his niece and Steve are clearly so head over heels in love with one another.”
Nancy’s heart sank at that.  She knew that it was true.
“I’m not…” Nancy mumbled, eyes downcast.  “I’m not mad at her for falling in love with him.  Or him.  I just…can’t help but wonder if I messed up.  Missed out on someone that I loved more than I allowed myself to when we were together.”
“You couldn’t have loved him more back then, Nancy,” Robin corrected her.  “Because who he was then, is not who he is now.  And who he is now is someone that Bauman has played a huge role in him becoming.”
Nancy sniffed a few times, bringing her knees to her chest and lost in thought.
“Do you still love Jonathan?”
Nancy looked at her, surprised.  “What?”
“Tell me what you’re feeling there,” Robin pressed gently.  “Why is that going wrong again?”
Nancy got defensive.  “Um, what’s wrong is that he clearly planned on leaving me while I was back here being loyal to him.”
“Right,” Robin mused.  “But…what about after he got back?  What happened then?”
Nancy opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t.  She thought about that for a while.
“We just…” she started.  “...we just…moved past it.  We let it go.”
Robin nodded slowly.  “After all you two have been through…knowing damn well that things need to be talked about…you both really thought that was best?”
“He doesn’t ever tell me how he actually feels,” Nancy snapped.  “I’m so sick of it.  I always have to push him to tell me things.  He just — shuts me out.  Clams up, retreats.  He won’t even tell me when he’s upset about something unless I make him.”
“Well then,” Robin nods.  “That’s definitely on him.  But what about you?”
Nancy scrunches her face in confusion.  
“Why didn’t you tell him how you felt either?” Robin asks, unblinking.
Nancy stares at her, not knowing how to answer that.
“I told him that I love him,” Nancy whispers.  “And that I…that we’re fine.”
Robin’s expression softens.  “Do you wanna be?”
Nancy’s face crumbles.  “I…I want…”
Robin waits, not knowing what to expect but knowing that it’s getting somewhere.  
“I want him to love me again,” Nancy cries in despair.  “I want him to fight for me, and — and love me the way that I thought that he did.  That he would.  That he always would —”
Robin holds Nancy again as she convulses with sobs in her arms.  They stay that way for a little while, allowing the dust to settle.  Nancy has said enough for now.  It would all unravel itself more over time. 
Meanwhile, Eddie had told Jonathan to make his way upstairs and talk with Steve.
“You’re on, buddy boy,” Eddie told him with a hard pat on the back.  
So while Jonathan made peace with Steve, Nancy had finally released some of her emotions and confided in Robin.
And now, all the adults were in the kitchen as Murray made some food for the older teens and Erica.  They’d asked Robin and Eddie to make sure that Argyle, Jonathan and Nancy were all going to be present for it, along with Erica before she could go upstairs and join the kids.
So here they all were now: sitting at the dinner table while Murray and Erica served them up plates and bowls of random foods.  
Jonathan had watched Nancy make her way into the kitchen with Robin, newly fresh faced and eyes puffy from crying.  She wore her pajamas now, having taken a quick shower and washing off the anguish from her meltdown earlier.  Jonathan’s heart cracked in two, and it did even more as Nancy went to sit next to Robin.  He stood up, unable to help himself.
“I got you a seat here,” he said, voice shaky.
Nancy had looked over at him, eyes cold and expression blank.
“That’s alright,” she said, voice level and cool.  “We share a room.”
Nancy sat next to Robin, demeanor cool and calm and collected.  She was stiff, but there was a chilling resilience to her that Jonathan had not seen in a while.  It terrified him, making his anxiety spike.  Had he lost her?  Was he too late?
He swallowed hard, accepting it — given everyone else at the table.  Hopper had awkwardly reached for some pepper as this was happening, working in slow motion as he felt really uncomfortable.  So Jonathan just nodded, and Joyce gave him a sympathetic look as she placed glasses of water and tea in front of everyone.
Eddie made concerned eye contact with Robin as he poured himself some water.  Yikes.
“I’ll sit next to you, my dude,” Argyle said warmly, knowing he needed to step in.  Jonathan was grateful for that, but still dying inside as he kept stealing glances at Nancy — who looked anywhere except his way.
Murray clicked his tongue loudly. “Alrighty then. Shall we?”
With a thud, he set down his plate. Joyce clenched her jaw but took a deep breath.
“Lay it on us,” Eddie said with a deep exhale, sitting down on the other side of Argyle. 
“Yeah, what’s this pow-wow and why is it just this group who's on it?” Erica questioned as she stationed herself on the other side of Robin. 
“Right,” Hopper sighed before shoveling a mouthful of mashed potatoes into his mouth and leaning back to chew, readying himself. Everyone waited patiently.
“Here’s the deal,” he began, leaning forward and eyeing everyone individually as he spoke. “No one here is being made to keep a secret. That’s not what’s going on.”
“So then why is it private?” Robin asked curiously. 
“Because right now…we need to set some things straight. Set in stone.  Before we dive into our group meeting tomorrow. Consider this…a board meeting of sorts.”
Jonathan furrowed his brow. “Don’t we want Bauman and Steve for that?”
Hopper sighed deeply, rubbing at his beard. “This affects them. And the kids.”
Eddie raised his eyebrows at that, feeling nervous. He looked over at Robin, who looked just as worried.
Erica scrunched her face up. “Then why am I here?…”
“Because I need one of you kids to be level headed and vouch for me,” Hopper explained. “And for Joyce and Murray. We’ve spent a lot of time figuring this out. Weighed out our options, talked to El about it.”
“Does she know?” Nancy asked.
“Some,” Hopper nodded. “Most… Not all.”
Erica leaned forward, truly listening and accepting that she was clearly going to need to stick with some sort of plan that her friends were not going to be keen on…
Hopper contemplated his next words carefully.
“Look. Tonight, I need those kids to rest. To laugh, play some card games. Eat too much candy, and just have a good night. Soak up all the fun they can get before this mandate goes into effect soon. And before we have to go forward with a plan.”
Hopper made sure that everyone was with him on that.  Off their nods, he continued.
“There’s two groups. One that’ll stay here, in hiding. Down in the basement, where we’ve already started making up basecamp. They’ll have to stay hidden.  Out of sight.  Quiet.  On high alert.  It’s a gamble.  Just because they’ll be home…it doesn’t guarantee them any safety.”
Hopper took a deep breath, eyes filled with dread.  He rubbed at the gap between his pinched brows.
“…the other group will have to risk getting back out there.  And we won’t be anywhere that’s not swarmed and completely surrounded by the government and — god-knows-who-else, before we can get ourselves back near the largest gate that’s torn itself open and is ready to swallow Hawkins.”
Everyone’s blood ran cold. 
No one was safe. They weren’t before, but now? Nothing was off the table. Everything was high risk, no matter where anyone was stationed.
“If you’re sitting here,” Hopper continued slowly, voice grave, “at this table, listening to this conversation…minus Erica and Murray...you’re in Group 2. ”
Nancy and Jonathan both felt their chests constrict, but they understood. It didn’t surprise them per se. And at this point, nothing should scare them. But it did.
Joyce looked at her eldest son, torn but knowing it had to be done.
Erica looked over at Murray, who gave her a soft nod.
Robin and Eddie looked at each other, along with Argyle, shuddering. 
“Dimitri is going with us,” Hopper added.
“Who’s he?” Jonathan asked.
“Russian soldier,” Joyce told him, holding up a hand to clarify. “He’s on our side.”
Jonathan hesitated but eventually gave her a small nod. He looked over at Nancy, who was staring down at the table with her teeth sunk into her bottom lip.
“He’s got insight,” Hopper continued. “Knows what we’re dealing with, and how to handle what we’re all up against.  We’ll need as many of us as we can get out there.  Those of us who know the risks, and know how to navigate this world.”
Robin processed that, thinking. “So that…where does that leave Steve and Bauman?”
Hopper was quiet. The way he gnawed his cheek made it clear that this was where it got messy.
“Steve is on the frontlines with us,” Hopper explained carefully. “…and Bauman is stationed back here with Murray and the kids, along with Dr. Owens.”
Robin’s heart sank, and so did Eddie’s. They both shared a sad, all-knowing look.  They knew this wasn’t going to go well.  At all. They knew that Steve was going to flip his shit at just the idea of leaving you out of his sight.
“Won’t Dr. Owens have a target on his back?” Eddie asked, concerned. “Won’t that — won’t that draw more danger here…?”
That made Robin look at Hopper, wide-eyed. The retired cop looked pale, eyes full of dread.
“He has to be here in case anything happens to Bauman or Max,” he explains solemnly. “Because if shit goes south here…they’ll need to run.”
Jonathan felt sick.  This also meant leaving Will behind.  “But…how? How can they run?”
“That’s where I come in,” Murray chimes in. “Between me and Erica and Dustin, we’ll be able to keep a close eye out for a signal — which Will can help us navigate.”
“Because he’s still connected to it all,” Joyce explains sadly.  “He still…feels it. He senses when it’s near.”
“Which is why he’ll be able to give us a warning,” Murray nods, adding to Joyce’s input. “Since El has to be out there with you guys, we’ll still have a connected source that's here with us.”
“The kids can’t do this,” Hopper adds, tone firm. “Not this time.  El doesn’t count, as much as I want her to stay back.  She can’t.  I know that.” He looks at Erica with parental eyes.  “But as far as the rest of you kids go?  No more.  It’s already bad enough having to risk you all staying here.  But if this is how it’s gotta go down?  You’re staying where there’s a controlled space, with 2-3 solid abort mission plans — which Murray knows from top to bottom.”
Erica hangs her head, but she nods. She knows this makes sense. 
“As for Bauman,” Hopper continues, eyes sad. “She’s not able to get back out there. Between her heart issues and her bad shoulder and ribs…she has to stay put.”
“No, I agree with that,” Robin says, voice full of gravel before she clears it. “But, umm…I’m just…really worried that…well it’s just — Steve, he’s um, he’s —”
“He’s going to have to do this,” Hopper interjects, but not unkindly. In fact, it’s full of empathy and remorse. “He knows the ways. You’ll all need him. His stamina, his strength. He’s strong, good with a bat and can outrun shit.  He also knows what to keep an eye out for, whatever comes our way.”
Eddie gulps, partially because he’s terrified about facing the underworld again…but also because he knows that Steve will be a wreck the entire time he’s gone with them and not with you. And if Eddie’s being honest, the idea of leaving you and the kids behind is killing him too. He’s especially grown to love you and Dustin over the last year.
“This isn’t open for discussion,” Hopper says, voice firmer and tone low.  “Tomorrow, when we have our living room meeting, I’ll be conveying this to everyone…along with Murray and Joyce.  And I need to know I have each and every one of you on our side.  Those kids are going to raise hell.  All of them are.  And this plan is not changing.  It’s either this…or we all stay hunkered down until we rot.  Am I making myself clear?”
Nancy and Jonathan nodded first, quickly followed by Robin and Eddie.
“Yes sir,” Argyle spoke first, and for the first time he genuinely looked aware of just how heavy all of this stuff really is.  Jonathan gave his shoulder a quick squeeze.
“Erica,” Hopper was looking directly at the youngest person sitting across the table.  “I’m counting on you.  I know that’s not fair, but I am.  You’re tough as nails.  You’re gonna have to be that way with your brother, and his friends.  Your friends.  You'll have to be hard...but gentle enough to get it through to him.  I don’t care what you gotta do, you do it.  Whatever you have to say?  Say it.  And if anybody gives you shit for knowing this before they did…send them to me.  Understood?”
Erica looked back at Hopper with the most somber expression.  But she nodded.
“Understood,” she said, voice low.
Hopper gave her a curt nod before looking over at the older teens.
“As for you guys,” he said.  “We all know the shit that just went down yesterday at the fence.  Bauman’s always been at the frontlines with us.  She can’t be now.  And Steve cannot hang back.  He’s got too much strength that we can’t afford to not have on our side of this battle.  And I don’t care if Bauman insists she can do it.  She can’t, and she won’t.”
“And if she gets stubborn,” Murray interjects, voice fierce.  “Tell me.  If she tries pulling a fast one?  You tell me.  Capiche?”
Eddie and Robin quickly nod up and down.
“I’ll talk to him if it gets bad,” Jonathan says in a weak voice.
Nancy narrows her eyes at him.  Since when do he and Steve talk?
“Good,” Joyce says with a sad, tight-lipped grin and nod at her son.  “He’ll need it.”
"I'll be there for him, too," Robin nodded at Jonathan.
“Will we be able to stay in contact with them at least?” Eddie asks pathetically.  “Via the walkies?”
“When necessary...yes,” Hopper confirms.  “We’ll have to be scarce about it.  Selective.  Nowhere is safe.  It’ll have to be reserved for vital communication only.”
Eddie frowned, but nodded in understanding.  Robin was currently biting her palm, consumed with dread and sickening anxiety.  Leaving you behind?  The kids?  Even Murray, who everyone had come to appreciate in their own weird sort of way — mostly because of how much they all loved you.  He was an extension of you.  The whole situation just felt…fucked.
But wasn’t everything fucked?  Wasn’t this entire world so catostrophically fucked in every single which way, seemingly irreparable?  
Was there actually an end to this nightmare?  A world in which the upside down would cease to exist…monsters would go back to their storybooks and dark, twisted fairy tales…the moon would only ever symbolize light within forgotten darkness...and the sun would never hide behind the ashy debris that currently clung to the air, just outside their windows?
Despite how everything looked grim, with seemingly no end in sight…you all persisted in choosing to believe.  Yes.  Yes, this was going to end.
The end of the world was nearing.  It was inevitable.
But it wouldn’t be your world.
***
You never really put much thought into what having a family would feel like one day.
You’d wondered.  Every little girl does.  In young girlhood, there’s the beauty of innocence that protectively surrounds all grown-up dreams that fuel your wildest imagination.  The dreams of never having to go to school, and being in charge of everything you want.  The dreams of being able to eat whatever you want, whenever you want.  The dreams of meeting your future husband, and getting to wear a big white, sparkly ballgown as you walk down the aisle to your happily ever after.  The dreams of being a princess in a big castle, ruling the land and having cake for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and tea parties everyday with your friends.
Sure, you’d had those dreams as a little girl.  How could you not?  It was inevitable.
But as you grew older, you didn’t really have a chance to fantasize about much.  You’d been made to grow up from a very young age.  Your grandmother had been there for you enough.  She kept a roof over your head.  Food on the table.  A very generous allowance, even though you never asked for one and you’d gotten yourself a job by the age of 13 painting peoples’ houses and doing yard work.  You’d even gotten hired by your uncle to do data entry for him, along with a couple of his contacts who did intense investigative research and needed someone to work remotely.  You earned your own living, and you did upkeep on your grandmother’s house — despite her never asking you to do so.  She was gone a lot.  She wasn’t very old.  Just a smoker who liked casinos and taking trips with her “friend” from time to time.  A woman, who she only ever referred to as her "assistant."  You knew better than to believe that, but you never said anything about it.  She was a closeted lesbian — which is why Robin coming out of the closet for you had been the easiest news to take, let alone support.  Your grandmother was a tough, long-acrylic-nails-donning boss bitch who did whatever the hell she wanted.  You’d gone with her many times to some casino resorts, mostly staying in the hotel room or just walking around the city.  It felt like living with a Mafia Mobwife.  It was cool, for the most part.  But it definitely meant being able to hold your own.  She’d raised herself when she was a kid — and in most ways, you did too.
It’s why you’d spent so much time with your uncle, who didn’t live very far.  He was home a lot.  Given his line of work, he didn’t go out much.  He became even more of a hermit as the years went on, and you liked that.  It meant consistency.  His spare room basically became your room.  It couldn’t exactly be considered a “guest room” when he never had guests over.  You’re the only person he invited over for company, and he loved it.  The two of you got along effortlessly.  His dark humor rubbed off on you early on, which your grandmother shared in but she wasn’t nearly as quick-witted as Murray.  That’s where you got it from.  But your dry, snarky wit was much more selectively timed than his.  He was all over the place.  You had solid social cues, given that you went to school and were around people often.  Your uncle was definitely an oddball.  But you loved him to death, and you got him better than anyone else did.
You weren’t babied.  You weren’t coddled, or sheltered, or given false hope about the world.  It’s why you held your own, and it’s also why you never victimized yourself.  It was to a fault, but you believed it was for the best.
So when Clark broke your heart into a million pieces, you told yourself it had been a risk from the start.  A gamble, just like the poker tables at those casinos that your grandmother frequented all the time.  Love was a dangerous game, and it spared no one.  There were winners and losers — and you’d lost this one.
But right now, in this moment, you felt as though you had just won every single jackpot that there was to win.  
Because right now, you were sitting in Steve’s lap on the floor of Max’s room in his big house, holding cards closely to your chest as Lucas screeched GO FISH at Dustin.  Steve’s hand was in plain sight, and if you were a cheater you’d have him beat in seconds.  But you didn’t need to win a stupid card game…because you had won the greatest game of all: life.
El and Mike were cuddled up close to each other, giggling and being young teens in love.  In a normal world, you would assume it to be puppy love between them.  But this world wasn’t normal, and the shit that they’d been through together wasn’t any different than what you and Steve had been through together.  It was real love, and you let them be that way.
Lucas was seated next to Max in her bed, holding her hand and laughing like a kid again.  Dustin was hoarding all of the candy from his backpack (so much for sharing) and laughing like a buffoon.  He bickered with Steve and the kids as usual, but something about it was just so…bright.  Hearty laughter bounced off the walls, and there were so many times that Steve had belly laughed — along with you and the other kids — that you’d all lost count.
Sometimes, you swore that you saw Max’s lips twitch.  As if she could hear you all in her coma, wanting to laugh along with everybody.  Lucas would talk to her as if she could hear you all just fine, squeezing her hand and kissing her forehead while showing her his hand in cards.  Dustin even gave her a sleeve of her favorite candy — just for her.  He might not have basic manners with the rest of you, but Max?  Always.  
Will was keeping score, seated next to you and Steve with the biggest smile you had ever seen him wear.  He laughed hysterically the entire night, even going as far as verbally expressing adoration for you and Steve.  Dustin would pretend to gag, but Will would just tell him he knew better than to think that the curly-haired smart alec wasn’t completely in love with the two of you being together.  Dustin had grinned all dopey and wide, rolling his eyes but not arguing with him any further.  
At some point, Mike suggested all swapping ghost stories.  
Lucas had barked the loudest laugh.  “How about the one we’re currently living??”
“Hey, hey,” Steve interjected.  “I got a better idea.  Tell your most embarrassing story.  One you’re scared shitless to tell.”
You'd grinned in his arms, snickering.  “Oh I got plenty of those.”
“I mean hey,” Dustin shrugged with a mouthful of candy.  “If we’re gonna die, we might as well get real.”
“Okay chill, we’re not going to die,” Steve scoffed, hiding his internal worry.
“It’s possible,” Mike shrugged, grabbing another bag of M&M’s.
Steve huffed.  “Dammit, Wheeler —”
Mike’s devilish grin was infuriating yet endearing at the same time.
“I wish Max could hear all of this,” El said with a tinkering laugh.
You gave her the warmest of smiles and a wink.  “Trust me.  She does.”
“Hell yeah,” Lucas smiled wide, squeezing Max’s hand.  “I’ll even tell one of her stories, for her.”
“...dude, she’s gonna kill you,” Dustin warned him, but there was a smirk lifting at the corner of his lips.
“I’ll go first,” Will announced, laying on his stomach as he ate some popcorn.  “One time?  I was asleep in bed but I woke up because I heard Jonathan moaning so loudly — like, disturbingly loud —”
“Okay, maybe I needed to lay down some ground rules here —” Steve starts with a very tight voice as you snorted into your palm.
“Just hear me out,” Will laughs, holding a hand.  “I thought it was with a girl —”
“William,” Steve scolded.
“But he was in the bathroom,” Will talked over him.  “Shitting his brains out.”
Dustin cackled while Mike audibly expressed disgust while laughing at the same time.  El looked shocked, giggling hysterically into her hand.
“Damn, that bad?!” Lucas roared.
“He lit every candle in the house,” Will cackled.  “Mom went to use it shortly after him and came barreling into our rooms to ask us in a panic what had died up one of our butts!”
Steve collapsed into you laughing, and you couldn’t even breathe from laughing so hard.  It was that sort of deep laughter that’s so painful because it’s quiet before you’re able to finally erupt with loud laughs that help you come down from a high.  All the kids were a fit of cackles and giggles, too.  Erica made her way into the room finally, jumping right into things and bringing cookies with milk.  All of you exchanged stories, allowing yourselves to only cry tears of joy.  It was exactly what you all needed, long overdue.
And for the first time in ages — none of you thought about the upside down, or the impending doom that awaited you just outside of the Harrington house throughout all of Hawkins.
That night, you and Steve tucked every single of your kids into their assigned sleeping bags and cots.  Lucas stayed with Max in her bed, asking you sheepishly if that was alright.  You’d nodded, along with Steve — more than approving.  And given you both would be chaperoning that night in the same shared room, you also let Mike and El cuddle up together in a sleeping bag.
“Hands outside of the covers, Wheeler,” Steve warned him, but he gave him a wink — adding please at the end.  Even Mike gave him a smile and nod, like a little kid who felt called out but also didn’t have any intention of disobeying.
Dustin and Will joked in high pitched voices about being bunkmates with their sleeping bags next to each other, given they were the two singles of the group.  Technically, Erica was too.  But even if she wasn’t, she would still demand her own space.  She had situated herself on the floor beside Lucas’s side of the bed, not planning to give him a hard time for a good while given what was in store for everyone tomorrow.
As for you and Steve — the two of you had stationed yourselves in the center of the room, closest to the door.  That way, you could see all your kids at any point during the night and also be the first to fight off any harm coming your way, should danger lurk on the other side of the locked bedroom door.
Steve ruffled Dustin’s hair as he dozed off, earning a sleepy little “hmph” from him.  After he made sure all of them were comfortably settled in for the night, he crawled over to you.  His nail bat was propped somewhere nearby — ready to be swung into action if need be.  But the need for it that night never came.
You curled into Steve’s chest, breathing in his clean, masculine scent and allowing it to fill all of your senses.  Sighing contentedly, you felt a rush of warmth wash over you as his lips pressed into the top of your head.
“I love you so much,” he whispered.
“I love you more,” you murmured in the softest of whispers.
You felt him chuckle against you.  “Impossible,” he breathed into your hair, pulling you so close to him you might as well be the same body.
And had you not been so completely relaxed in his arms, you might have fought him on it.  The whole "I love you more" thing. In fact you definitely would have.  But you just hummed, dozing off in his strong arms and allowing sleep to find you.
***
Waking up had been beautiful. The sun was even more hidden than usual, plagued by the new world coming into fruition. But despite the lack of sunshine outdoors, you felt as though it shone through the entire room as all the kids woke up and whispered to each other. You pretended not to hear them when they talked about you and Steve. Because if you were being honest? You’d been dying to hear their uncensored thoughts. If they thought that you weren’t listening, they wouldn’t hold back from saying what was actually on their mind.
Turns out?  All of them wanted this. The two of you together.  They laughed about how some of them thought that Steve was going to end up with Robin at first. 
“No way,” Lucas shook his head in a confident whisper. “Those two? They’re like brother and sister.”
“Yeah, but Bauman’s so out of his league,” Mike whispered back.
“She is not,” Will added in a defensive whisper.
“She so is,” Mike whispered indignantly.
“No way, Steve’s awesome,” Dustin defended in a whisper.
“Yeah but like,” Mike whispered, pondering with a sigh. “I mean yeah. He is. I like him. He’s cool. Way cooler than I thought he was at first. But Bauman’s literally a badass. She doesn't care what people think.”
“Steve doesn’t care anymore,” Erica chimes in, speaking softly. She’s actually pleading Steve’s case and it’s adorable.  “He used to. But when we were down there with the Russians? And he had to wear that stupid sailor outfit for work?…”
“Oh my god,” Dustin snickered. “That shit was so funny.”
“He looked like Shirley Temple from the Good Ship Lollipop,” Lucas snickered back, and Will had to shush them so that they wouldn’t wake you up.
“My point is,” Erica continued with sass. “Steve doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks of him now. I mean…he gave her hell the whole time I was around ‘em.”
“I still don’t get that,” Mike whispered.
“Me either,” El added quietly.
“What do you mean?” Dustin whispered in confusion. “I told you guys the whole story. That once upon a time ramble I had to sit through when Murray basically went on to give us an entire rundown on the two of them?”
“Well duh,” Mike whispered in annoyance. “I know that. But dude…she’s…like, she's...”
“Hot.”
Everyone went quiet, and you stiffened as you held back laughter. Because the person who had called you hot?  It was El.
“Bauman is hot,” El repeated.
Eventually someone snorted. Then, they all did. You bit back laughter, blushing into Steve’s chest with your face kept hidden.
“You’re hot,” Mike added to her in a coy whisper.
“No, you are,” she whispered back sweetly.
“Enough,” Erica whispered definitively. 
“Max thinks that Steve is hot,” Lucas scoffed.
“He is,” Erica and El said at the same time.
“Hey,” Mike whined, and they all shushed him.
“Face it, dude,” Dustin whispered flatly. “He is. I wish I looked like him.”
“You look great, man,” Will assured him. “You got a girl like Suzy. You gotta be a stud to catch someone like her.”
Dustin had blushed at that with a wide, dopey grin. “Think so?”
After listening to them chat some more, eventually Steve started to stir. He’d told them good morning, to which Dustin all too happily responded with a very loud good morning back —- making Steve audibly groan and bite back curse words. The kids all snickered. 
Will started handing out drawings out to everyone. You all had been sketching and drawing together in your assigned room earlier the day before, while Steve had been getting Max’s room ready.  Will had told you all to draw a picture of someone else in the party. He’d even chosen who was drawing who.  
Will and Lucas drew each other.
Mike and Erica drew each other.
El and Dustin drew each other.
And you drew Steve, before he joined you all and eventually drew his original art piece of you while you all played a round of the Game of Life.
Here you were now: holding your drawing close to your chest, and wiggling your eyebrows at Steve. He gave you the most adorable smirk, his cocoa brown eyes still a bit sleepy and his perfect hair the sexiest case of bed head. He stretched, toned arms flexing and his white t-shirt clinging to his muscles in all the right places while being loose enough to wanna rip it off of him…
Not the time, Bauman, you mentally scolded yourself.
Steve had reached underneath his pillow to fetch his drawing of you, holding it to his chest and sitting across from you — crossed-legged and shooting you a wink. All the kids mirrored you both, sitting opposite their assigned art piece subject with throaty giggles and snorts. 
Will looked at everyone excitedly, like a proud art professor, ready for his classroom to partake in show-and-tell.
“Alright,” he smiled. “Everyone ready?”
“Yeah, you go first, Byers,” Steve nodded at him with an encouraging grin.
Will blushed. “Oh…well…I mean…I should go last. You guys first. On the count of 3, everyone turn your photos around to your partner.”
Mike snorted as he stared down Erica. “Howdy, partner,” he drawled in a fake accent. El giggled, and so did Lucas. 
Erica shot Mike a wry smirk. “Easy now, cowboy.”
“Bet you made me look like a total loser,” Mike snickered. 
“I don’t have to draw you to make you look like that,” Eric’s said in the most sugary sweet, sarcastic voice.
“Okay snarkbutts, settle down,” Steve scolded lightly in a groggy voice, no heat behind it. “Will has the floor. William: proceed.”
Will saluted him. “Alright. Count of 3.”
“Please tell me you gave me teeth,” Dustin mumbled lowly to El.
“One…”
El shrugged. “I dunno.”
Dustin narrowed his eyes. 
“Two…”
Steve gave you a coy look, asking in the lowest of mumbles, “How big’s my hair?” 
You grinned like a devil, your voice lower. “Not as big as your other best trait.”
Steve lifted a very cocky eyebrow with a deepening grin.
“Three!”
Everyone turned their papers around, and a soft silence fell over you all minus a few little reactive intakes of breath.
Dustin had drawn El with a million eggo waffles in the sky around her. She looked like the most adorable cartoon character, with anime eyes and full cheeks. Her hair was shorter, the way she’d looked back in ‘83 whenever she’d returned. But it wasn’t slicked back. It was free, curly and a little wild. Her smile was innocent and childlike, and there was a policeman in the back waving. Hopper. 
El had drawn Dustin with his signature cap and his big toothy grin — which made him beam, because she did give him teeth in the drawing after all. And in this drawing, there were bubble boxes above him that read all the quotes she associated with him, like Steve! and She’s our friend and she’s crazy! and Shit shit shit shit shit!
Mike had drawn Erica into a comic strip. He showed her as just a wee tike, then at Scoops Ahoy with an ice cream cone, then playing DND. The last image of the strip showed her with her arms crossed and a triumphant smile, with a banner behind her that read Welcome to the Party.  (…as Erica looked at it, she felt the most unfamiliar warmth seep into her bones and the joyful sting behind her eyes sent her into pure shock.)
Erica had drawn Mike on his bike, riding through the neighbor with his backpack and a flashlight. His dark hair blew in the wind, and there was a thought bubble above him with little heads that resembled all of his best friends.  Above him and the thought was a quote: “Mike Wheeler: nerd, snark machine and superhero to all.”  (…Mike felt so emo, he didn’t know what to do with it.)
You had drawn Steve in a very chic sort of hot anime-like way.  It honestly looked like an actual character that existed in an anime universe.  In the drawing, Steve held his nail bat in one hand and a McDonald’s happy meal in the other.  He didn’t quite understand that part at first — until he spotted behind him, there was a Winnebago.  Six familiar faces, very stick-figure-esque, stood there waving.  You also stood there, with a quote above your head: “six-piece nuggets, coming right up.”  Steve breathed the fondest of chuckles as he took it all in, wanting to laugh and smile and cry and tackle you with his kids all at the same time.
Steve’s drawing of you was more adorable than you ever thought him capable of drawing.  You were the cutest little cartoon, backpack over your shoulder with combat boots — but you were wearing the most beautiful dress.  It was yellow, which complimented the happy blue sky behind you.  Yours and Steve's favorite colors combined.  There was a big house behind you, with seven other stick figures that looked an awful lot like Steve and your six nuggets.  And right next to you, there was a dictionary-esque definition of you:
BAUMAN (Pronounced bow•men)
A professional love-life ruiner; cute but psycho; hardcore but soft; too smart for her own good; humor darker than the dark espresso she drinks straight, because she’s a sociopath; also hotter than said cup of coffee; terrifyingly beautiful from the inside out; my mortal enemy turned favorite person; the girl who makes everything make sense; someone I can’t fathom living without, and can’t believe I ever thought I could; the love of my life, in this one and the next and so on, so long as she’ll have me.
You had never felt so full in your entire life, and neither had Steve. The two of you just stared at each other’s drawings. Grinning, glassy-eyed, chuckling, aching, filled with every ounce of joy and every ounce dread — all at once.  Neither of you could speak, but neither of you had to. Your eyes, along with his, spoke volumes. They said everything there was to say, just as much as your sketches did.
Lucas had drawn Will in a wizard’s outfit.  He held a tall, majestic scepter — with a large hat on top of his head.  Surrounding him was a large swirl of colors, whimsical and light, painting a galaxy of sorts.  And in this galaxy, there were little floating stick figures with all his friends’ names above them.  Will was smiling in the drawing, with his hands in the air and on top of the world.  Literally, because in the picture he was standing on top of a globe.
As for Will...he had drawn Lucas at a basketball game. He was scoring the winning basket, and an entire crowd cheered behind him.  All of you were there.  Will was there, next to all his friends.  You and Steve were next to each other, along with his mom, Jonathan, Nancy, Argyle, Eddie, Robin and Hopper.  Even your Uncle Murray.  
And Max…that’s where Will’s drawing got unique. 
She was piggybacking Lucas, as he jumped and shot the winning score of the game, her laugh radiating through all the pens and crayons and markers that Will had used to sketch her.  She was alive, as were the rest of you.  Very much alive.
Just as you all were right now, inside one of Steve Harrington’s many bedrooms in his big house with no parents.  
No matter what doom was swiftly approaching — no matter what monsters were looming underneath the surface, and already roaming the real world — you all were together.  You had each other.
You always will.
***
Late morning upstairs has been kind to you.  It's been light.  Hopeful. 
There’s something about walking downstairs that makes the energy shift.  It sends an odd sort of chill up your spine, despite Steve’s arm draped securely over your shoulders as you wear one of his large gray hoodies with your bad arm in a sling.  You feel a certain pang in your chest as the kids follow you all down into the kitchen…but this time, it’s not because of your heart arrhythmia.
As Hopper and Joyce smile at you all in the kitchen, greeting you warmly and having prepared a table full of pancakes that had smiley faces decorated with whipped cream and chocolate chips and strawberries on top — something about the scene frowns at you.  A deep frown that you’ve seen on everyone’s faces whenever there is bad news waiting to be shared.
Your uncle is coming over to hand you a hot cup of decaf coffee, winking at you and Steve as he gives him a tight shoulder squeeze.  He’s moving past you both towards the man named Dimitri, who is walking in from the living room.  Murray brings him over to introduce you.
“Dimitri, this is my niece,” Murray grins.
You shake his hand firmly with your good arm, smiling gratefully.  “Heard a lot about you.”
“You as well,” the man says with a genuine smile, kind vibrant eyes and a thick Russian accent.  He’s definitely seen some shit.
“And this is Steve,” Murray gestures, a bit of a coy glint in his eye.  “Her boyfriend.”
Steve blushes, a soft smile gracing his features and shining through his eyes.  He wholeheartedly adores being called that out loud for the very first time: your boyfriend.
Your uneven heart skips several more beats, which typically would raise a lot of concern — but at the moment, you’re too fucking happy to care or pay it any mind.  You watch Steve flash his signature charming smile and reach out to firmly shake hands with Dimitri, who is looking back at your handsome boy with the widest grin.  The masculine exchange of lighthearted friendly words between the two men makes your stomach dance for some reason, especially as your uncle chuckles along with them.  
This is completely uncharted territory for you. Nothing about this moment is familiar.  But you could really get used to it.  It’s new.  And you adore it.
Dimitri meets the kids, who all take to him very well.  Especially El, who seems to already be familiar with him.  Likely because of Hopper.  Jonathan and Argyle are being introduced to him by Joyce, while Eddie is rounding the corner with a big stretch and yawn.  Steve shoots him a smirk as the metalhead makes his way over for a big ole bro hug, whispering something to him that makes Steve snort while Eddie grins like a devil.  Steve swats at him playfully, successfully smacking him as Robin walks in with Nancy close behind.  Steve’s quirky platonic soulmate makes her way over to you with a warm smile, swinging an arm over your shoulders so that she’s nearly headlocking you in a hug.  She’s a bit taller than you, by just a couple inches, so it gives her some upper hand.  You’re chuckling lightly, nose scrunched and tightly winding your good arm around Robin’s waist as you smile back at Nancy.  Her eyes are still sad, a bit lost.  But there’s no animosity there, at least not that you see.  She looks at you shyly, timidly…but with utter kindness.
Unbeknownst to you — Robin had suggested to Nancy that she stay with her last night in Steve’s room.  For Nancy, that had been…hard.  Necessary, but hard.  For multiple reasons.  For one thing — the last time she’d slept in Steve’s room, she had been his girlfriend. Being asleep in there 2 years later without him, now as his ex, brought back a flood of memories — bittersweet and haunting.  Being in his bed, twisted up in his sheets, felt wrong.  But she just couldn’t bring herself to sleep next to Jonathan that night.  Not yet.  Not after everything that had unfolded.  So Robin had stayed up talking with her, having a heavy heart to heart.  But it turned out to be exactly what Nancy needed.  Just what the doctor ordered.  Robin Buckley had unintentionally become a nurse of sorts over the last several months, and maybe even somewhat of a therapist.  Although — Argyle sort of had her beat in that department earlier that afternoon.  But he was the much simpler kind.  Whereas Robin got deep, given her innate gift at rambling until you were given no choice but to cut her off because your most honest thoughts were yanked out of you as you were made to listen to her ranting.  Nancy had cried some more, but she’d also laughed.  A comforting mixture of both smiles and frowns were shared between the two unlikely friends.  Robin wasn’t Barb, nor would any other girl be that kind of friend to Nancy.  Robin was very different from Barb.  However, her heart was just as loving.  She loved hard, and it showed.  She let Nancy pour her heart out, pouring some of her own out in return.  And somehow…somehow…it brought Nancy some newfound peace and understanding.
So as she looked at you now, having seen you come downstairs with Steve and the kids — now introducing yourselves to the new Russian house guest, and sharing a special connection with Eddie and Robin in a way that only settled couples so effortlessly did — Nancy could see something in the two of you that she’d not known Steve capable of being while she in a relationship with him.  And while she selfishly ached for her younger self who’d missed out on having that with him (and sometimes still found herself pining after), she selflessly began to feel happy for Steve.  And she even began to feel some happiness for you.  Not completely.  Not yet.  She couldn’t quite commit to making full peace with it all, given that healing takes time.  A very long time.  But as time continued to pass, which Nancy hoped you all would still be granted given the circumstances of the crumbling world, she knew that she would eventually get there.  
Murray and Dimitri were saying something funny, making Hopper and Joyce share a hearty laugh with the two of them while the kids were asking the new gentleman a million questions.  Steve made his way over to you and Robin, hugging you both — and Eddie threw his arms around all of you, resulting in fond groans and grunts from you all along with big smiles.
Nancy and Jonathan made unintentional eye contact as this happened, but Dustin shouting GROUP HUG! snapped their focus away again. The boys all bear hugged you guys while El and Erica were already pouring syrup onto their pancakes.
Eventually, you all sat down to enjoy a feast.  And while it tasted so deliciously sweet…the bitter aftertaste stemmed from looming doom that creeped just beneath the surface of your feet.  The energy shift was still felt, and despite the warmth of homemade pancakes and Steve’s hand on your thigh…your blood ran cold.
***
It was the early afternoon that finally unveiled the darker energy shift you had all been sensing since that morning, after you left the comforting quarters of your little family sleepover.
Everyone was now seated in the living room now — the way you always were, when it was time for you all to have a group meeting and listen to Hopper go over a plan of sorts or give a rundown to the household.  Except this time, Dimitri was here along with Dr. Owens.  It wasn’t like all the other times.  This was different.  Very different.
This one scared you.
Maybe they all should’ve. All these talks that centered around the end of the world. All these household meetings about the impending doom that came with said end-of-the-world. But somehow, you’d grown accustomed to them.  Comfortable.  It meant you were all still alive and that you all had something worth fighting for. And it had always meant there would be another meeting.
But there was an unsettling sort of feeling of finality to this meeting that set it apart from all the others.  And as Hopper stood with both Joyce and your uncle Murray…you felt goosebumps scatter up and down your arms and legs, regardless of Steve’s warm oversized hoodie and your leggings and socks.  Their faces were somber, a bit grim.  Murray kept his arms tightly crossed while Joyce fiddled nervously with her hands.  Even Hopper, ever the strong and firm type, looked nervous.  Maybe even afraid. 
They spoke all slowly, taking their time with why everyone was there — why Dimitri was now in the picture along with Dr. Owens — and what all needed to be discussed.  And the longer they spoke, the thicker the air got.  Tension spread around the room.  It was especially evident as none of the kids were making a sound.  They hadn’t uttered a single word.  Not one of them.  The adults had the floor, and when they asked Dimitri to stand with them, you all knew this was going to go in a bad direction.
So when they all told you the plan, looping Dr. Owens into the picture and why he not only was here for this talk — but here to stay — the gravity of the current situation landed.
You all felt your souls plummet to the deepest depths of your stomachs with a hard thud, as Hopper revealed two large whiteboards.  They both had entirely different detailed layouts…and beside each one, there were two separate lists of names.
One list of names would be at the frontlines.  The people who would be diving head first into the upside down and all of its perils. 
One list of names would be hiding out here.  The people who would maintain home base, helping operate things from the other side in the real world, while risking the chance of being found, caught and killed.
Both sides were at risk.  Both teams could die.  Both groups might not ever live to see another day, or each other, ever again.
As Steve stares at your name, along with the names of all of his kids aside from El, on the opposite whiteboard from his own name…he feels bile rising in his throat.  His stomach twists into knots, deeply tangled with unbearable anxiety and anguish.  His mind races, but his lips don’t move.  Fear paralyzes him, rendering him speechless as the adults keep talking and gesturing to the boards.  The castle on a cloud that his dreams have just began to build for the two of you, walls high and protecting you both along with his kids — his family — was drifting away from him.  And all he could do was watch it drifting further and further away, into the void, as he stared into space.
You felt his grasp on you instinctively tighten as his muscles stiffened.  Steve was rigid against your back, and you were grateful that he couldn’t see your face right now.  You were sitting between his legs on the longest part of his couch, facing the same direction as you took in the whiteboards while absorbing all the information that was being relayed to the group.  With a harsh swallow, you risked peeking at everyone else’s reactions — quickly scanning the room with your eyes.
Mike’s usually sour expression looked far more sad than it usually did.  He only ever looked like that when El was in danger, or things were spiraling out of control.  He sat on top of the coffee table with his elbows in his lap, crouched forward and staring a hole into one of the whiteboards.  Dustin’s mouth was agape, and his unusual silence was loud.  He hadn’t said a word from where he sat on the couch next to Erica.  Will sat on the other side of Jonathan, brow furrowed and heart blue.  He knew the risks being taken, and it hurt his soul seeing that he would be apart from his mom and brother.  He felt as though he always had been, ever since this all began, and it seemed to be a never ending circumstance.  Lucas was taking it all in from his seat on the leg of the couch, hands wrung and expression reserved — but defeated.  He’d really grown into a young man this past year, and he’d been taking so much in stride.  But even so, he looked conflicted.  Really conflicted.  
After taking in the kids’ reactions, your eyes swept over to Robin and Eddie.  She was seated in the giant loveseat, per usual, with Eddie perched on the arm of it.  You narrowed your eyes as you caught sight of Robin fiddling her thumbs, eyes darting up and down from her fingers to the adults with the whiteboards.  Eddie was bouncing his knee anxiously, nibbling at his fingernails — which were already bitten to stubs.  While the two of them looked to be taking this hard, the way that the rest of you were…they also seemed to be absorbing it a bit differently.  As if maybe they had a hunch about it already…
It wasn’t until Erica stood up to sit by Lucas with zero prompt that you felt slightly suspicious.  Because as she did, Robin shot a very quick tight-lipped smile in Erica’s direction with eyes that radiated sympathy.  Did they know this was coming?  Is that why Erica had come upstairs with the cookies and milk later than the rest of the kids?
You sighed through your nose, focusing back on Hopper as he gestured for Dr. Owens to stand up with them.  The older man made his way to the center of the tense room, hands dug deeply into his pockets and wearing a very sympathetic smile.
“I’m really grateful you all have put a lot of faith in me, despite everything,” he said humbly.  “Truthfully, it’s not owed.  I know that.  Still…I promise you’re in good hands with me.  Not those guys out there.  Hence why I’m here.  And I know you’d have already figured out by now if I was still working for that side of things.  Between El and Will, and all of you crazy smart folks, I’m outnumbered.”
He added a light chuckle at the end that nobody returned.  Dr. Owens sighed, taking no offense.  He knew this was not going to be taken well.
“I’m in this fight with you,” he said, stronger than how he spoke before.  There was conviction in his tone that he never really used, and it only heightened just how severe things currently were.  “If it were up to me?  None of you would be out there.  I’d be out there on the frontlines.  But…given Max’s comatose state, and Bauman’s heart condition, I know I’m needed here.  Which is just as big a risk that’s being taken out on the battlefield, because we’re staying in Hawkins as the evacuation notice and mandate goes into effect.  The city will be swarmed with government officials who are all behind this.  We’ll be surrounded from all angles.  No one is safe.”
You’re pretty sure that Steve had stopped breathing at this point, and the veins that prominently stuck out from his arms tightly wound around you made your throat close up.  
“I’ll be here to monitor Max, along with Bauman.  I’ve got plenty of medication to help steady the heart arrhythmia, and anything vital needed for a medical emergency — on anyone’s behalf, not just Bauman’s and Mayfield’s.”
“But…what happens if…”
A tight voice made everyone’s heads whip in its direction.  It was Dustin speaking, eyes wide with fear.  He wasn't being his usual cocky, overly confident self.  He looked and sounded genuinely fearful.
“…what happens if we’re caught?  What do we do?  Where do we go?”
Murray sighs, stepping forward.  “We’ve thought about that.  Right now, there’s only 2 options.  But they’re solid.  The best we’ve got right now.  One more than the other.  See, look —”
Murray went into detail about an abort-mission plan, but it sounded distorted in your ears as the gravity of the situation weighed down on top of your shoulders: you were all splitting up.  And this time might be the last time.
At some point, Mike had started to finally come to life.  His snark was returning, but even he wavered and the fear in his voice wasn’t concealed.  Hopper and El had to level with him, which only flustered Mike and caused him to stutter.  They had him beat, and he knew it.  He wanted to storm off, but Erica had told him to sit his ass down and listen.  It was so unexpected that he did as she said.  But your own brain was playing it all in slow motion.  As Will began asking questions with Dustin, you could see how Lucas had looked like he wanted to ask Erica if she might have already known something — but he didn’t.  Dr. Owens was saying something about Will being tied to the other side of things and being the assigned “El” of their group opposite of her, which fired up Mike as he demanded to know why the hell that required him to be out of the group heading to the frontlines alongside his girlfriend.  Before Hopper could even respond, Eddie was jumping into action along with Jonathan — coming to the retired cop’s defense.  That only bewildered Mike more, which fueled Dustin’s confusion into high gear as he made arguments alongside Mike.  Lucas had thrown his voice into the mix, but when Erica’s was louder — telling them all to listen, for the love of god listen, and Lucas stared at her in silent bemusement.  Will was weakly pleading with them all to please calm down, along with Joyce, who shot Argyle (of all people) a desperate look, and he made his way over to sit down next to Will and tell him it was going to be alright.
“NOTHING ABOUT THIS IS ALRIGHT,” Mike cried, angry and sad and scared in the way a child made to grow up too soon has every right to be.
“Mike, please,” Nancy’s voice trembled, her blue eyes glassy.
“Nancy, this isn’t okay!!!” Mike wailed.
“M-Mike,” Nancy stammered, her own emotions giving her a shake she couldn’t stop.  “Just l-listen to me…”
“No, you never listen to me!!!” Mike bawled.  “Never!!!”
“Hey hey, Wheeler, hey.”  
Steve finally found his voice as he reluctantly made his way to stand up away from you and approach his kid that was having an absolute breakdown.  Mike was still wailing, but as Steve approached with an unwavering look in his eye — baby Wheeler allowed for the group's assigned babysitter to actually place his hands on his shoulders and try to level with him.  Mike’s face crumbled, his words not making any sense the more he stumbled over them.  All that could be made out was something he was trying to say towards El — something about why and how could you and tell them I’m coming — which made Steve get a firm grip on his shoulders as he told him not to blame her for this.  After all, Steve had all the experience in the world as far as wrongfully placing blame on someone else was concerned…and it made your entire body ache as you watched him soothe Mike, who just bawled and mumbled nonsense in his hold.
El began to cry, too, leaning into Hopper — whose bottom lip trembled.  He bit down on it hard and willed it to stop, his eyes overwhelmed with everything that was unraveling before his eyes. 
Dustin was going back and forth with Erica, but he sounded so pitiful it made your uneven heart crack.  He kept looking over at Steve, begging him to understand.  Please Steve, please, let me go with you.  Eddie moved to immediately hold him, crushing him in more of a death grip than a hug.  The metalhead mumbled into his curly hair — not this time, kiddo, not this time.  Robin had a hand clamped over her mouth, emotions taking over as she barely managed to bite them back.
You stood up instantly, moving to hold Buckley.  She didn’t hesitate to make room for you on the seat, letting you take her in your arms as she shook like a leaf.  You gently swayed her side to side with you, murmuring quiet little words that were meant to be comforting — knowing they weren’t, but offering them anyway.
Your eyes met Jonathan’s across the room as he swayed with Will as well.  His pupils were blown, consumed with dread and drowning in pure misery, and you knew that yours weren’t much different.
Mike had buried his face into Steve’s chest at this point, and it made Nancy cry into her own palms as she curled in on herself.  
“I can’t do this,” she whispered, voice cracking at the end.  She looked at Hopper and your uncle, eyes guilty and full of shame.  “I - I’m sorry.”
Before you could even process what just happened, Nancy was barreling up the stairs.  Jonathan watched her go, panicking.  He looked at Will, then at you — eyes pleading.  You didn’t even let a second pass before you’d squeezed Robin to signal her, standing up to bring her over to where Will was seated.  You took Jonathan’s place as he went after Nancy, holding him tight as Robin leaned against you on your opposite side.  Argyle kept a kind hand on Will’s shoulder, still sitting to the other of him.  
“Steve, please, you die I die, remember?”
Dustin’s whimpered words had to have been the saddest plea you’d ever heard in your life.  Steve almost broke but before he could he flung an arm to sweep Dustin into his hold, as baby Wheeler kept bawling into his chest.  He held them both steady, letting them fall apart in his protective arms and doing everything in his power not to break down with them.  He couldn’t.  If he did, he’d failed them.  But to Steve’s dismay…he did anyway.  He ducked his head down, shaking against the two of his kids, letting himself silently weep with them.  For them. 
Lucas looked utterly heartbroken, which Erica noticed.  The youngest Sinclair cast aside all her pride, looking at her older brother with the most sympathy and love she could have towards anyone in this world, and she threw her arms around him.  He only let it shock him for a second before he held her back, a grateful silence falling over them both.  
You felt tears of your own begin to brim your eyes, but before letting them fall you looked up towards the adults…seeing your uncle first.  Murray looked back at you with every ounce of empathy and solace that could be found inside his dark soul. 
You gave him a soft nod, silently communicating with him.  I understand.  I’m sorry you had to deliver this news, but I’m here and I understand. 
And he returned the soft nod, lips pressed into a thin line but communicating back through eye contact and body language.  I love you and I hate this.  But I’ve got you.
Dimitri stood next to him, eyes somber and downcast.  He was new to the picture, but having seen the other side of things and just how bad a toll this has clearly taken on you all — he mourned for everyone’s pain. 
Dr. Owens had to sit down, unable to speak and wringing his hands.  
Hopper and Joyce held each other, along with El.  They looked at each other, devastated but steadfast.  
This plan was not open for discussion.  
This plan was not open for debate.  
This plan was final.
And so you let the tears crawl over the edges of your eyes, feeling them skate down your cheeks as you clung to Will and Robin and felt the world sit on top of your shoulders.
***
-- so as you can see, shit's getting intense. the gut-wrenching angst approaching has me overwhelmed but I'm so sickeningly happy about it. suffice it to say, Steve & Bauman are my Roman Empire and they are endgame. so if that gives you any sort of hope, given the inevitable doom that is in store for them and everyone else involved...then yay.
<3 this story forever lives on. forever and ever amen. - misha
TAGLIST (ILYSM) If I forgot you or you wanna be added, lmk :)
@aloneinthehellfire @xprloki @erastourvip @get0ut0fmyr00m @Eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00 @poppet05 @wiltedflowersundertowers Originalthingparadise Pleuviors pumpkinonice Ihaveproblemsihaveproblems Brinleighsstuff Definitelynotherr sucker-4-angst bookkeeperlove notlilyyyy @goosy-goose nevillescomslut
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wotw round 1
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propaganda under the cut!
shen qingqiu:
Okay first a quick intro: Shen Qingqiu / Shen Yuan is the main character of SVSSS, and his deal is that he's a guy from the modern world who wakes up in the novel he read, in the body of one of the characters. Shen Yuan is his name in his original world, while Shen Qingqiu is the name of the character he became - that he uses for himself for most of the novel.
Now, what happened to him… The thing is, at the core of his woobification are his actual canon traits, but some fans really crank them up to the point where it becomes a disservice to the character. So you never know when someone saying "oh Shen Qingqiu is so oblivious" means "due to several intersecting factors Shen Qingqiu has some extremely specific blindspots regarding certain topics" (which is just true) or "haha Shen Qingqiu could get kissed by a man and still not realize that man has romantic feelings for him" (just one variation of the sentiment, but one i find particularly bewildering considering. in canon. a man kissing him was exactly what made Shen Qingqiu realize that man was actually in love with him. like my dudes the bar is low but its there!).
Stumbling into this second version in fic was funny a first few times, but now it's like… I genuinely can't tell whether any particular author is overplaying it for comedy, or genuinely believes the character is That dumb.
Also ppl often severely underestimate his power level. Like idk if that's because they compare him to the characters he often hangs out with, who are those genius top-of-the-world experts (despite him outpacing literally everyone else he ever fought against), or because of how he bungled his first-ever case (like, you know, two weeks after waking up in a whole NEW BODY, in a different world), or because he tends to downplay his own strength and also tries to avoid killing people… but like, this man took a technique that in the original was just "aesthetic and interesting" and developed it into something that could be super deadly within weeks, he's just not using it that way. And he also fixed og Shen Qingqiu's broken cultivation within the first few months of being in that body. So he's actually extremely talented and pretty strong, he just spends most of the book either nerfed by external factors (such as poison that disables his spiritual energy at random times) or surrounded by veritable powerhouses.
And this is for Shen Yuan-as-Shen Qingqiu. But the version that drives me completely up the wall is actually the portrayal of just Shen Yuan - in fanworks where he either never gets transported to the world of the novel, or wakes up as a different character. Because suddenly the traits that already get unduly amplified with Shen Qingqiu version become straight up caricature-like. He's not only oblivious to the extreme, he also gets painted as this completely naive soft babyboi (this is about a guy whose most well-known pre-transmigration canon trait is that he writes famously vitriolic rants about novels on the internet); plus, like, on the physical level, super frail and waifish which uh. wow. nice walking right back into the BL tropes the novel itself avoided?…… So yeah I'm super not keen on this portrayal. I know he doesn't appear as not-Shen Qingqiu version of himself in the novel, if we don't count the rant in the beginning, but like. please extrapolate from the character we actually have instead of writing this mega-woobie who shares nothing with the base version?
Terrible little bastard man who has a sad backstory but is actually genuinely a terrible person. Fans like to act like he is just a soft sad boi deep inside and make him lose all of his edge.
So the thing about Shen Jiu / og!Shen Qingqiu in canon is that we first learn of him as an unquestionably, almost cartoonishly villainous character. As in, he is literally a villain in the book our main character has been reading… before dying and waking up in the world of the book, as that very villain (hence the distinction of Shen Jiu being the "original" Shen Qingqiu, as our main character begins to use the name Shen Qingqiu for himself. Shen Jiu, however, is an old name that only the original has used). The original Shen Qingqiu that our main character knows is a serial child abuser in a teaching position, a murderer (killed his colleague, killed his old fiancee's entire family…), and a lecher (visited brothels and had designs on his female disciple).
Then, over the course of the novel, we learn more about Shen Jiu - in particular, that a number of things our MC "knew" about him were not true. He did not kill his colleague, but rather failed to save him, despite trying to; he killed his "fiancee"'s family because her older brother has abused him for years (and also, Shen Jiu was forced into agreeing to marry her), and also he only actually killed half of them (only men); he visited brothels because he only felt safe in the company of women, and he just went there to get a good night's sleep; and he only ever saw that female disciple he was accused of lusting after as a daughter. And in general, he had a horrible childhood, and was himself a victim of abuse.
However, not everything gets disproved. Shen Jiu still turned from a victim to perpetrator, abusing a child (coincidentally the protagonist of the og book) and trying to set him up to die/be killed several times. Canon is very clear on that point. The situation with Shen Jiu and the og book version of the protagonist is very much an illustration of cycles of abuse.
Also at a certain point, we meet the author of the in-world book, the one our MC was reading - who explains he scrapped Shen Jiu's tragic backstory because it would make him too controversial. Quoting from memory, something like: 'if you said he was a villain, he was also tragic; but if you said he was pitiful, he'd also done terrible things. All in all, a character like this was a hotbed for all kinds of fandom discourse.'
Prophetic fucking words.
Somehow, seeing all that, some 'fans' have decided to jump into a completely opposite direction: making Shen Jiu a poor little misunderstood meow meow who did nothing wrong ever and was a soft princess and totally was never mean to the protagonist ("the protagonist just has inflated sense of ego and misunderstood Shen Jiu's normal teaching as singling him out for abuse" was a take I had to see with my own two eyeballs. Theres btw an extra from Shen Jiu's pov where he laments that the fake manual he gave the kid has failed to horrifically kill him yet).
Which puts the rest of us in an awkward position of having to defend his canon assholery. Like, the whole point of this character is that he's complex! That he's both a villain and a victim! Reducing him to just one is doing him a disservice, and either extreme is equally incorrect! And this is something that happens with many similar characters, I know, but what boggles my mind about Shen Jiu's case in particular is that. it's spelled out. The whole deal with his character is spelled out in canon. And some people still go "oh so Shen Jiu was secretly the most morally pure and good character, got it". Like. how?????????????? ??? ?? ?????
noriaki kakyoin:
Uke-fied to the max so he can be shipped with jotaro lol
Ohmygod where do I even start. Kakyoin's the poster boy for twinkification and woobification of a canonically very capable, interesting (and not twinky at all) character who's so many things at once- a loyal friend, really smart, a bit of a weirdo, infodumping trivia at random times, quick-thinking in dangerous situations, reckless, polite and respectful, vengeful towards enemies but always kind to friends, depressed, determined and motivated in the face of mortal danger despite it all - even when he had the chance to leave the Stradust Crusaders and just come back to his normal life, he decided to stick with them. This decision eventually cost him his life since he got killed by Dio, the main villain. The fandom either calls him a cardboard with no personality (which is not true at ALL, where did that take even come from) or they downplay his canon badassery- Jotaro x Kakyoin shippers are often guilty of this along with twinkifying Kakyoin. The ship is fine, but they're way more interesting if you take into account their canon characterisation as huge weirdos who somehow work pretty well together- they're both different flavors of autistic that sometimes just so happen to align on the same wavelength.
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jeongintwenty3 · 1 year
Text
16.25
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pairing: bangchan x fem!reader
genre: angst, fluff
warnings: mentions of tears, sadness
author’s note: hello! how’s everyone doing? decided to write this hurt/comfort imagine of chan cause i just cannot accept the fact theres only one chan in the world. pardon for my poor grammar and mispellings if present, other than that, happy reading! <3 remember, it’s just a bad day, not a bad life; it shall pass to. my dms are open if anyone wants to talk ab anything (:
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nobody said marriage life was easy. the day you said yes, the both of you were expecting the ups and downs, the happiness and sadness.
“i’m home!” chris exclaimed as soon as he stepped into the house, one of the few places the both of you feel comfortable enough to call home.
silence from the other side, he was baffled. confused was an understatement, why isn’t his wife scrambling to his arms? you’d usually greet him in ragged breaths, as if you’ve just completed a marathon.
going up, unsettling thoughts clouded his mind. although he knew deep down it will never happen, everyone’s gotta prepare for the worst, right?
wrong.
opening the bedroom door oh so quietly, he managed to make out your figure huddled under the thick comforter. oh, you’re sleeping.
but it’s just 4 in the afternoon?
deciding to kneel so he could be at eye level with you, he froze upon the sight.
chris felt his heart shatter as the seconds passed by, this is never a sight he wants to come home to. why is his favorite person in the world crying?
you’d be lying if you didn’t notice chris entering the room; you tried to play it off by pretending to sleep. but boy, did chris see through you.
he shook you gently, not wanting to invade any further into your personal space. looking up at his pretty eyes, your tears started to well up for the 3rd time this afternoon.
“oh no,” chris started to panic. “what’s wrong babe, hmm? talk to me,” he tried to coax you into reaching out to him.
you covered your face with your 2 hands, not wanting the man that stood beside you see the woman he married.
if chris had to list the top 10 most heartbreaking sights he’s ever encountered in his life, this will be the first. never in his life, he saw you this vulnerable. you always had this strong facade; but even strong people can crumble too. they just decide to not show it.
sitting on the edge of the bed, he guided you onto his lap; he knew, his woman needed his physical affection to ground her.
while patting your head with a few kisses to your temple peppered here and there, he tried to keep his guard up; as much as he wants to cry too, he needs to be strong for his one and only. silently praying the pain in her heart will subside soon, he continued his loving acts.
“deep breaths baby, you can do it,” chris whispered, ensuring the person cradled in his arms is still getting sufficient oxygen. “i’m here now okay? you can rely on me, you can talk about it, you have me,” chris continued, not wanting to aggravate any painful memories.
“i- i’m sorry,” you managed to blurt out while trying to keep your shit together. you knew he was exhausted, visible from the eyebags and the way his shoulders sag. “i know you’re tired, i’m sorry you had to come home to whatever this is,” you continued. “i’ll be better.”
chris wanted to explode; who the hell made his wife feel like this? she’s everything he’s ever dreamt of; kind-hearted, a little clumsy, very dreamy, independent, smart, adora-
his train of thoughts were cut short when he hears your crying started to worsen.
“no,” chris said firmly while still holding your frame. “you, my love, are the definition of an angel. now, before your thoughts get the best of you, let me explain.”
hearing no response from his woman, he let out a small okay, to make sure you were fine with whatever he said and will say — which you were.
“who isn’t tired? we all have our own problems, some we can fight alone, some we need others to help. whatever you’re thinking now, it’s all the exact opposite of what i think of you. you’re perfect, and before you start with your nobody is perfect speech, to me, you are perfect. heck, i often ponder to myself, what did i do in my past life to deserve such a woman?”
responding to what he said, you simply held him tighter and buried your face in his neck. now only hearing sniffles, chris felt relieved you’ve calmed down.
chris had to get to the bottom of this — “is there something you want to tell me?”
after a good 2 minutes, you lifted your face so you could stare into his face and man, nothing ever prepared chris for what his love was about to say next.
“this morning, i went to my pilates class as usual. there were these group of women, i don’t know them at all since they’re new,” you paused, needing a breathe because you felt your throat closing up again.
with a nudge to your side and a kiss to your forehead, chris encouraged you to continue.
“i heard them talking about how they were able to travel around the world with their partners, having the time of their lives, while i’m rarely at home for lengthy times due to work. it’s not that i want to stay away from you, if i could choose i swear i’d choose spending time with you over anything else in the world. i’m sorry, i’ll be home longer, i’ll make you happier.”
a single tear rolled down your cheek, and at the speed of lightning, chris managed to kiss it away.
looking into her eyes with so much adoration one can ever have, chris replied, “you’re enough for me, baby. we have holidays where we can spend time with each other 24/7 and we communicate with each other pretty well. you make me the happiest man alive and don’t change yourself; you’re perfect just the way you are. i understand your feelings, but please don’t ever underestimate yourself, you’re literally my favorite person in the world and i don’t like the person i love the most get hurt because of her thoughts, okay?”
resorting to a nod to respond to his answer, chris felt his heart swell looking at his wife. someone so selfless, she even let her thoughts get the best of her.
“like we agreed, let’s talk about whatever’s bothering each other yeah? no secrets between us, i know you trust me as much as i trust you,” chris concluded, not wanting another wave of sadness wash over his beloved.
“i love you, chris,” you whispered as to not ruin the comfortable atmosphere blanketing the room.
“i love you most, my beautiful wife,” chris replied, with a kiss to your forehead, cheeks, nose and lips.
nobody said marriage life was easy. but one thing you learned was, it’s always the two of you versus the problem, and with the right person, marriage life can feel comforting, like hot chocolate on a snowy day. with chris, you always felt at home.
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milkibabe · 1 year
Note
okay but like.. craig and tweek both fucking the shit out of you at the same time>>
omg you're so real for that anon. youve inspired me to write a whole ass story :3 hope you like it !!
♥ College Party w/ Craig and Tweek ♥
✢ summary: attending Clyde's big college party, your jealous boyfriends Craig and Tweek can't handle other boys flirting with you.
✢ WC: 3018 (oops)
✢ gender: reader is implied to be female <3
✢ warnings: nsfw!! rough sex, degradation, mentions of alcohol, clyde kinda being a weirdo, threesome (yall are in a poly relationship so yeah), lots and lots of swearinggg
✢ authors note: ummm this came out to be wayyy longer than I thought but once I get started on writing I almost never stop. (also i had an original draft that had like 3000+ words that i wrote fully on tumblr and i pressed ctrl z and lost all of it. sad)
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You and your boyfriends, Tweek and Craig, have been dating for a few months now. Even though you and the boys were head over heels for each other, the relationship had stayed a secret by your request. You were afraid your friends and family would judge your choice to be in a polyamorous relationship. Tweek and Craig respected your choice to keep it a secret but were slowly growing tired of seeing men hitting on you in front of them. When Clyde invited you to a party at his house, you decided to bring your secret lovers along with you. This party was their chance to claim you as theirs in front of everyone, once and for all. 
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It was around 7 pm that you lost track of where your boyfriends went. The music was loud and the crowds of people were a little disorienting. You were about to look for your boyfriends when suddenly Wendy and Bebe invited you over to their little corner to drink. You politely accepted since you thought you should unwind a little with the girls. A few drinks in, Wendy started to talk about her relationship issues with Stan while Bebe just shook her head. 
“Girl, you should just drop him I swear!” Bebe said rolling her eyes. Wendy took another swig and sighed.
“I know, it would be great to be single like Y/N.” Wendy said looking over at you.
You almost spit out your drink. ‘Quite the opposite’ you thought to yourself.
“Yeah, trust me. After I dumped Clyde, my life has been so much better. Sometimes boys are so suffocating and needy.” Bebe said admiring her freshly manicured nails. 
You felt the conversation starting to get a little too serious for your liking, so you excused yourself and went to get some fresh air outside. 
You sat on the back porch, where it was secluded. The air felt cold on your exposed flesh, making you hold your own arms to stay warm. You decided to really dress up, hair and makeup all done up, you wanted to look pretty for your first college party. You felt a little lonely outside, you started to wonder where your two boyfriends went. ‘You have two of them, how did you manage to lose both?’ you thought to yourself. Your thoughts were quickly cut off when you saw two shoes stop right in front of you. 
“What’s up, Y/N?” Clyde asked with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a drink. Clyde was in his usual red varsity jacket, with jeans on. He smelled of alcohol and strong cologne. 
You looked up at him. “Oh, hey Clyde. I’m just getting some fresh air right now.” You replied.
“What’s wrong? Too many people in there for your liking?” He asked sitting next to you. You noticed he was sitting a little too close.
“Y-yeah, I just wanted to get away from all the noise I guess.” You said starting to feel a little nervous. 
“Hm…” Clyde trailed off for a moment. He suddenly put his arm around you, which made you jump a little in shock. 
“We could go up to my room. We’d have plenty of privacy there.” Clyde said with a smug grin.
You gave a nervous giggle in response but were starting to totally panic on the inside. You didn’t know what to do in that situation. 
“Actually, Y/N was just about to hang out with us instead.” You heard a monotone voice behind you. You turned around and saw that it was Craig and he looked pissed. Craig doesn’t normally show emotion, so when he looks even slightly annoyed, you know it's bad. 
“Who the hell invited you two?” Clyde said hesitantly taking his arm off you. 
“Y-your mom!” Tweek spat out in frustration. 
Clyde stood up and walked up to Craig. They exchanged glares for a moment until Clyde looked away. 
“Pshht, whatever. You guys fucking suck.” Clyde said walking away towards the door. Clyde opened the sliding glass and went inside, slamming it behind him. 
You stood up and ran to envelop the two boys in a hug. “Thank you guys, Clyde was being really weird. Please don’t disappear on me again!” You said squishing your face between their arms. 
“S-sorry Y/N, Stan and the others were playing poker and you know that C-Craig is addicted to gambling!” Tweek said starting to fidget a little. 
“Yeah, ‘cos I’m damn good at it.” Craig said matter-of-factly. 
You giggled and backed away. “Well, let's not waste the rest of the night. Let’s go inside and party some more together.” You said starting to walk around them.
“Actually Y/N, we had a different idea.” Craig said putting his hand on your shoulder. His hand was big and had a firm grip on you, so you know he was being serious.
“Oh? What is it?” You asked looking at the two boys in confusion.
“J-Just follow us inside!” Tweek said in excitement, grabbing your hand in his. 
“Ok then!” You said before being dragged off by the two boys. 
You went up the stairs and found yourself in front of a room. It was Clyde’s. Craig opened the door and motioned you to go inside.
“Why are we going into Clyde’s room?” You asked starting to get a little suspicious. 
“Just trust.” Craig said winking at you.
You couldn’t resist Craig when he was being playful, since most of the time he is emotionless. You stepped into Clyde’s room, looking around to find clues as to what you were going to do in it. Tweek walked in after you, with Craig being last inside before they shut the door. You heard the lock click, which prompted you to turn around.
“What’s going on here?” You asked hesitantly. Craig walked up to you slowly, making you back up until you backed into Clyde’s bed. You lost balance and fell backward onto the bed, catching yourself with your elbows. Craig bent down to your level while standing between your legs. 
“Tweek and I are getting a little sick of watching boys hit on you. Right, Tweek?” Craig asked turning his head over to Tweek.
“Y-Yeah! You belong to us, n-not them!” Tweek said in frustration. He started to twitch in anger. 
“I’m thinking we finally make it official huh? Make it known to every guy that you are ours.” Craig said with a subtly grin on his face. He held your chin with his fingers, tilting it to look up at him.
“What do you say, baby?” Craig said awaiting your answer.
You started to feel your whole body warm up from his assertiveness. You couldn’t give a verbal answer, just a nod. Embarrassment started to paint your face and you looked away from his gaze. He was right, you guys weren’t really dating if every boy thought you were still free game. 
“Good.” Craig said in his usual flat tone. He gently pushed your chest, so that you laid down flat. “Everyone will know you’re ours when you’re screaming our names.” Craig said crawling on top of you. His hands parted your nervous legs. 
You haven’t actually had sex with your two boyfriends yet, you were unsure how ready you were for a threesome. But at this moment, your whole body screamed for their touch. 
“G-God, she’s so beautiful.” Tweek said walking around the bed, hovering above you, opposite to Craig. When you looked up at Tweek you could see the tent in his pants already starting to form. Suddenly, you pulled yourself back to reality for just a moment.
“W-wait, isn’t it kind of fucked up to do this in Clyde’s bed?” You asked placing your hand on Craig’s chest.
“Yeah, it is. That’s what makes this even better.” Craig said smirking. He raised his knee to meet your clothed cunt and applied enough pressure to earn a gasp from you.
“B-but if you want us to stop, we can.” Tweek said bending down to kiss your forehead.
You became flushed from the thought of doing something on someone else's bed, but the thought was so thrilling you let the better judgment pass you. You shook your head in response to stopping. Craig pushed his knee a little more, making you squirm. He seemed to get a kick out of teasing you. 
“Already squirming? We haven’t even taken our clothes off yet.” Craig said taking in how you looked, all pathetic and desperate. 
Craig nodded at Tweek, signaling Tweek to move onto the bed, where he sat with his back lying on the headrest. Craig pulled you into his arms (rather effortlessly) and rotated you to where your head was aligned with Tweek’s body. He then flipped you over to your stomach. You were so eager that you didn’t even notice that you got onto your hands and knees already. 
“Y-You look s-so fucking sexy in that dress. M-Me and Craig were talking about how much we wanted to r-rip it off you.” Tweek said moving your hair out of your face. 
Craig became deathly silent behind you, which he normally does when he’s focused. You hadn’t really noticed it though because you were too busy soaking up the praise from Tweek. Craig was admiring the view from behind you, pushing back his urge to just fuck you immediately. No, he wanted to give Tweek a chance to have his fun with you first. 
You smiled at Tweek and dragged your hand seductively down his chest to his pelvis, where you unbuttoned his jeans. Your touch was enough to earn a shutter from him and he started to twitch in anticipation. He helped you pull down his pants, where he tossed them onto the floor amongst the dirty laundry that Clyde had neglected for who knows how long. Your face lit up in shock as you saw how big Tweek’s bulge was. Tweek was painfully hard, obviously being pent up for a long time. He breathed a sigh of relief when you finally pulled his cock out of his underwear. You let it lay against your cheek for a second and smiled. You looked up at Tweek and met with his lustful gaze. Tweek was speechless, he just took his hand to lovingly rub your cheek in response. 
You then took the tip of his cock into your mouth. You closed your eyes and let your tongue do its magic. That was when you felt Craig grind his pelvis against your ass. Your moaned while taking more of Tweek into your mouth, earning a grunt from Tweek. 
“F-Fuck you two are so fucking hot, ah!” Tweek exclaimed while holding onto your head. 
 You started to bob your head up and down, building up the excitement in Tweek’s body. Tweek was trying to be patient, but you were going at a painfully slow pace. 
“Y/N, c-can you go faster?” Tweek asked eagerly. 
You hummed ‘mhm’ as a response and started to go faster. The faster pace was nice and all, but Tweek was hungry for more. He wanted to go all the way down your throat. 
“Mmm n-need more!” He said getting restless. He suddenly gripped your hair and pulled your head so that his cock went further down your throat. You choked in surprise and tried to catch your breath but it was too late. The shy blonde had already started and there was no way he could slow down now. 
“S-Shit so fucking good!” Tweek spat out, gripping your hair on both sides. He was thrusting into your face at this point and even though you were struggling to breathe, it was really fucking hot. Your muffled moans in desperation only urged the blonde to keep going. 
“Careful now Tweek, don’t break her before I get to.” Craig said gripping your ass. 
“I-I’m sorry her throat is so a-addicting.” Tweek said as his head tilted back in ecstasy. 
You broke away from Tweek’s grip for just a moment so that you could catch your breath. Tweek was absolutely covered in your spit, his cock aching from the absence of your mouth. You were about to say something when you were cut off by the sensation of fingers entering your wet pussy. You moaned out in surprise when you realized just how neglected you were down there. You hadn’t noticed how wet you were because you were so focused on Tweek. Craig wanted to remind you he was still there, watching you two have your fun. He curled his fingers to hit you in that perfect spot, making you whine out in pleasure. 
Tweek gripped your hair and pulled you down to his cock again. “Don’t forget to finish what y-you started.” Tweek said rubbing his dick against your lips. 
You took him back into your mouth, letting him control the pace once more. Tweek went back to fucking your throat, making an absolute mess of your hair in the process. You felt Craig’s fingers leave you for a moment, which earned a disappointed moan from you. It didn’t last for long though, as Craig pushed the tip of his cock against your entrance. Startled by it, you wanted to turn around to look but Tweek gripped your head. 
Tweek’s tone was darker than you’re used to hearing and didn’t contain his usual stutter. 
“No, look at me. I want you to look me in the eyes while I cum down your throat.” Tweek said briefly pausing before slamming his cock as far down your throat as it could go. 
Your eyes watered and your throat was starting to feel really sore, but seeing Tweek embrace a more dominant side had you entranced. That was when Craig thought it was a great idea to push his cock inside of you. Your already tired voice let out a muffled moan as he struggled to push deeper. 
“Fuck, you’re really tight.” Craig said gripping your hips. Your legs started to buckle from the feeling in your gut, but Craig held you up. 
“Don’t break on us just yet, I want to use your slutty little hole first.” Craig said bending over you, whispering into your ear.
Craig then started to thrust into you, making you instinctively grip the sheets of the bed. You wanted to bury your head into the mattress while he fucked you, but Tweek was still fucking your throat. You were completely overstimulated, your two boyfriends were ruining you from both ends. 
Tweek’s movements started to become more shaky and sloppy, meaning he was coming close to his release. Your spit was collecting at the base of his cock and it was starting to drip onto Clyde’s sheets. Tweek pulled your head far enough to where your nose was squished against his pelvis. This sensation led him right over the edge where he grunted out, “Fuck, I-I’m cumming!” You whined as you felt his thick fluids slide right down your throat. He held your head all the way down for a few moments while Craig started to quicken his pace. Tweek slid out of your mouth from exhaustion and let go of his tight grip on your hair. 
Craig pulled your ass up so that it was all the way in the air. Your back was arched as he drilled into your cunt. Now that your mouth was free, your moans could now be audible. Tweek let you rest on his lap as you got obliterated from behind. 
“D-Don’t be shy, let everyone know who you belong to.” Tweek said moving the hair off of your sweaty forehead. 
“Yeah slut, I told you to scream for us.” Craig said, voice a little out of breath from his thrusts.
“F-Fuck! Mmm! Fuck me harder Craig ah!” You screamed out, not realizing the loud music that was playing outside was turned off a while ago.
“Who do you belong to?” Craig asked slamming his hips against your ass hard enough to make lewd slapping noises. 
“I belong to y-you guys! I belong to Tweek and Craig, f-fuuck!” You whined out, loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. 
“Good fucking girl.” Craig said pleased. He moved to an angle where he could dip even deeper inside of you. Rewarding your obedience by kissing your cervix with his dick. Your screams and moans of pleasure filled the room. Your lewd sounds were so loud in fact, that you couldn’t hear the banging and yelling outside of the door. You started to feel your release come very close and your body was ready to give in.
“Mmm— close sooo close!” You whined out, your body almost going limp. 
“Me too baby, cum with me.” Craig said quickening his pace. He used his hand to push down on your stomach, which was enough to give you that orgasm you desperately craved. You screamed out and squeezed your legs together. Your pussy clenched around Craig when you came, which in turn helped him reach his release.
“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you!” Craig grunted out while holding your hip against his. You could feel his warm seed fill you as his thrusts slowed down. 
He finally slipped out of you and kissed your back. You collapsed on top of Tweek soon after from exhaustion. Craig laid next to you guys and covered all of you with the blanket that was draped on the corner of the bed. 
The door was finally kicked down by Clyde shortly after. Clyde was infuriated and yelled out, “What the fuck is going on here—” But Clyde cut himself off when his face went pale and his jaw dropped in shock. 
Soon the others shuffled to get a peek out of curiosity and collective gasps could be heard from the sight. 
“Nice.” Kenny said impressed.
“Called it. You lost the bet fatass.” Kyle said holding his hand out.
“Dammit!” Cartman said angrily. 
Clyde was at a loss for words and just gawked at Craig. You were embarrassed as hell and hid behind the covers. 
Craig smirked and flipped off Clyde.
It was pretty obvious that your relationship was no longer a secret. 
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fl3shm4id3n · 1 year
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𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓼
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐨'𝐚𝐤 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐧𝐚'𝐯𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫. 𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʟᴏ'ᴀᴋ x ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ! ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ꜱᴏɴɢ: ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇɪɢʜʙᴏʀʜᴏᴏᴅ - ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴀᴄʜ
Tw: being left out, Jake being a bad father mentioned, human and na’vi relationship, Neytiri doesn’t like Spider and y/n, species discrimination? mentions of puberty
Author’s note: I know I’m a huge Lo’ak and Tsireya shipper, I’ve been thinking about doing a fic with Lo’ak, my boy needs lovin. I saw a scene in mass effect andromeda that I liked, so I decided to write it. 
Mastelist
It was obvious that you were human, you were small, had different colored skin and not to forget five fingers. Just like Spider, you were left behind due to being to young to go back to planet Earth, so you stayed with the rest of the RDA humans who were allowed to stay. Your foster parent was Norm, since your biological parents left. You may not look like him but you loved him dearly since he loved and raised you as his own
Just like your so called brother Spider, you grew up with the Sully kids. You grew close to Lo’ak, you were both like two peas in a pod. You two did everything together, along with getting into trouble together. Though, Neytiri did not like either you and Spider, she saw you both as those human who destroyed her home and killed her father. It was obvious, she didn’t have to tell you how much she despised you. 
You once tried to fit in like Spider wearing na’vi attire, with the help of Kiri and Tuk they dressed you like them. When Neytiri saw you, she nearly had a heart attack, you saw how she looked offended by this, since then you never wore anything na’vi. You just stock with your human tees and pants. Lo’ak had said he liked how you looked, but not even his words made you want to do it again.
As you got older, you began to change, your body began to go through changes, and you began to have other changes. Such as thinking of boys, the boy you had your mind on was Lo’ak. Since you were kids, you always had feelings for the na’vi, even though he was a na’vi, it did not stop you.
That day, Lo’ak and Kiri had come to the lab, mainly because Kiri came to see her mother. In a moment of a distraction, while Kiri and Spider began to have an argument, Lo’ak sneaked away to find you.
You were in your room, you were dressed in an oversize shirt that belonged to Norm and a pair of shorts. As a pass time you were going to your phone that was gifted to you by your dad, you were looking through your pictures you had taken with the Sullys, your dad, max, but the majority of them were of you and Lo’ak. You were distracted looking at the images that you didn’t notice Lo’ak enter your room.
“Hey y/n” he said startling you, almost making you fall from the bed. “Lo’ak! There is a thing called knocking!” You said sitting up on the bed, making Lo’ak laugh. “I did, but you didn’t answer, so I let myself in” he said chuckling and sat on the bed next to you. You chuckled as well, feeling your face heat up by how close he was.
“So, how had your day been?” You asked as Lo’ak responded. “It was alright, I guess” he said looking down a bit sad. “What’s wrong? Was it uncle Jake?” you said as Lo’ak nodded. “Yeah...” he said as you got closer to him and rubbed his back comfortingly. You knew how your Uncle Jake was when it came towards his kids. The favoritism was obvious, that you and everyone around you saw it. You hated how he was hard on Lo’ak, he tried to best to prove himself to his father but Jake just never saw it.
You thought of something “hey, I’ve been making something and I wanted you to see it” you said, this made Lo’ak look at you. “Oh really? What is it?” he asked as you got up from the bed and went to the small area of your desk. “Lie down on the floor while I get it” you said as Lo’ak got up from the bed and laid down on the floor.
You had found what you were looking for, you grabbed sphere shaped lamp and flipped the switch to turn off the light then you turned on the sphere. The light shined the whole room, and it was of blue colored galaxies and constellations. “Wow, that’s cool, how did you make this?” Lo’ak asked as you went to lay next him. “It was easy, I just got pictures of cool looking constellations and galaxies, then just mashed them all together.” 
“It looks awesome” Lo’ak said, turning to look at you. Both of you locked eyes, staring into each other, seeing that it was dark you saw how his freckles glowed. “Your freckles look beautiful” you said with out thinking, making his cheeks go purple. “Oh, thanks, I think they’re cool” he said shyly. You giggled at him, he was adorable when he got shy. 
You then got the courage, and got a hold of his large hand, it fit your hand perfectly. you both interlocked your fingers with one another's and just stayed stayed like that while looking at the blue galaxies on the roof of your room. This felt like a dream, you wish you could stay like this forever. 
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admirxation · 16 days
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˗ˏˋ admirxation's weekly fic recs ´ˎ˗
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!! dark content ahead, material in this post is intended for 18+ viewers, please read the warnings the authors have provided you and continue with your own discretion !!
(3rd week) 19th May '24: I love these weekly fic recs. They're amazing as bookmarks, and I get so warm and happy inside when I see the authors I have tagged happy I recommended them. Once again, here are some more fics, and I am open to people commenting down some recommendations in the comments *mwah mwah*
note: after this week these recommendations will be longer, I've been occupied with exams so my recs aren't as long as I would want them and Tuesday I have my last exam so in summer I will be hella active (hopefully). love y'all (also if I have decided to keep these fics from tumblr, as on my ao3 profile I have a bookmarks thing on my profile so you can see those recommendations on there if you're interested, link in pinned post).
Resident Evil Recommendations
The Devil is Real (part one) [NSFW] [DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT] {las plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader} ~ readers troubled brother disappeared two years ago until reader receives a letter saying he is in Spain, joining Los Illuminados.
this was written by @/gigabyte-flare // oh look another recommendation for the lovely pixel, we’re not shocked because it’s obvious how much i love their writing, like their writing style is so good like not even capping bruh. this is a darker series so please read the warnings they have provided and if it makes you uncomfortable then don’t read it, simple as, her work is appropriately tagged (like all authors i recommend). I love plagas content, and this is such a unique concept, i’ve been craving some more plagas stuff and honestly this is hitting the spot, i can’t wait for more parts, i await patiently when the author has the time and energy to post the second part BECAUSE IN THIS CORNER OF MY BLOG WE DO NOT RUSH PEOPLE. anyways much love, i can’t wait
stepdad chris redfield [NSFW] [DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT] {stepdad!Chris Redfield x fem!reader} ~ step dad punishes reader who shows herself to the internet
this was written by @/angelstargel // i’ve recommended so much leon content and ugh im so glad to have some new chris content cuz he fr underrated in the tumblr fanfic world, i wish there was more content for him (i say when ive left my wips for him in the dust cuz of no motivation lmao). this fic was so hot but also sad i felt rlly bad for chris at the start regarding the readers mother, but later on the scenes were written so well, one of my fav fic writers and one of my fav moots that i rlly need to engage more with but im socially awkward lmao. great fic for the chris lovers !
Hey, you’re playing with my delirium [NSFW] {boy band au!Leon Kennedy x sasaeng!obsessive fan!fem!reader} ~ reader is obsessed with Leon who is part of a boy band.
This was written by @/abadtzmaru // I genuinely can’t stop thinking about Leon in a boy band after this fic haha, this fic did a really god job of describing unhealthy obsession, I loved the writing style and how it emphasised the readers loneliness and clinging onto somebody, well more like the idea of somebody to help them cope and make them have a outlit of happiness. The readers obsessive love for Leon was so relatable lmao but the extent they love was soo soo well written, loads of the fics I recommend honestly make the English lit student come out of me like fuck the books I write essays on I wanna write essays on the language techniques within these recommended fics lmao.
Dad bod Chris Redfield [NSFW] {Chris Redfield x fem!reader} ~ you’re extra needy for your boyfriend to come back home.
this was written by @/dollfacefantasy // OMG I LOVE CHRIS CONTENT SO MUCH I WISH THERE WAS MORE HEHE. I love dad bods, idea of a chubby Chris makes me fr blush. I love the established relationship type of oneshots, domestic characters with their partner are my favourite type of fics, they just have a special place in my heart and this fic has become one of my fav domestic fics but also Chris oneshots. I loved the writing style of how much the reader missed them, it’s so cute, the nsfw works are *chefs kiss* perfection, but I rlly liked the layered bits of their relationship as well.
Buckle Up and Enjoy the Ride [NSFW] {dominant!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader} ~ There are many things Leon uses his belt for, some of which involve the reader.
this was written by @/porcelainseashore // I read this just before I was going to post this weekly fic rec and AHHHHH I'm so glad it came up on my feed before I was going to post this because it was so good. I didn't know I was so into the idea of Leon using a belt until now (defo inspiring me for some fics hehe), also the dirty talk in this fic was *chefs kiss*, this gurl is soooo good, also another one of my fav mooties that I rlly need to talk to more but social awkwardness is a dick to me.
Jujutsu Kaisen Recommendations
to-be ex-husband part two [NSFW] {Satoru Gojo x fem!reader} ~ readers ex boyfriend claims to not be a playboy anymore but she finds it difficult to trust him.
this was written by @/arminsumi // i recommended the first part in my first weekly recs and when i was going to reread it i was S H O O K that it had a second part and omfg i rlly hope the author has the time and energy for a third part cuz i need it so much, i will be waiting patiently for it. i love the dynamic of the reader wanting to be with gojo and enjoying being with him but also being realistic in understanding how much he hurt her in the past. AND OMG SUGURU. suguru entered the chat fr. i was squealing when i read what happened between suguru and reader AHHH. this was too good oh my god
‘It’s a match: Last Friday Night’ [NSFW] {Satoru Gojo x fem!reader} ~ matching with best friend on tinder.
This was written by @/screampied // I love the dynamic of friends having a thing for one another, it’s one of my guilty pleasures, ugh when gojo called the reader hot when she dressed up for the date ugh I was blushing so much. This piece has some very hot nsfw moments but it was also a fun oneshot, I did giggle at the mention of a kfc profile and the ending with geto, it was a really fun experience. I love also this persons user sm haha.
Toji mocking your moans while you ride him [NSFW] {Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader} ~ the title basically.
This was written by @/screampied // as I said before I do put the / before the username because I do repeat certain authors, I have my favs which I like to bookmark and wouldn’t wanna spam them. Ugh I love this blog for their jjk content sm, also their theme is so gorgeous im so jealous. But they write toji so well!!!!!! I love the idea of being teased, and ugh when the reader said she needed him and he was like you don’t need it and he mimicked the way she moaned I AM ON THE FLOOR ROLLING AND NEED TO BE CAGED OMFG. Feeding my Toji addiction fr.
The boy next door [NSFW] [DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT] Choso Kamo x fem!reader} ~ reader is oblivious to his feelings.
This was written by @/bratbby333 // ughhhh this blog always cooks omg. I’m new to the choso girlies club and ooooo this fic rlly fueled my membership into the club THIS WAS SO HOT. I actually rlly love fics with friends having feelings for one another, as seen in a gojo recommendation on this weekly rec. nom nom nom thank you for feeding me some pervy choso being in love with me heheheh.
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chaifootsteps · 2 months
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Oh my god, finally! I've been wanting to post here for a few days.
I'm the author of that infamous fanfic. And I wanted to say, unrelated to Hazbin, that the documentary and Drake's story, coupled with his new music video "I Kinda Relate" is the most heartbreaking and empowering thing I've ever seen. I bawled my eyes out the entire day that I found it.
In the first 28 seconds, Drake heavily implies, but doesn't show, his abuse that he suffered at the hands of his rapist, Brian Peck (who also was penpals with none other than John Wayne Gacy.)
I wanted to do nothing but hug that poor little boy, and to hug the man he is now. I want to tell him that he's beautiful and strong and brave for coming out. Male CSA victims rarely ever do. Could you imagine telling Drake then or now, that he's a *loser*? Could you imagine going about his abuse the way Viv did with Husk and Angel? He literally made his own music video that was much more tactful and empowering than Loser Baby ever will be.
I also have dirt on Dan S and that whole fucking pedo ring (I know a LOT of people in this industry. I also helped take down an ACTUAL ZOO AND PEDOPHILE with a decent amount of power a few years back.) And for anyone still confused about Drake, the girl he messaged lied about her age and he never did anything physical with her. He still acknowledges he's fucked up (please watch his hour long interview and music video) but he's "bound to make it right".
I also just want to say, to a CERTAIN PERSON, that comparing the objectively fetishisized abuse (I'm a CSA victim and into noncon), to fucking SEX ED FOR CHILDREN, is the absolute most fucking garbage and vile take I've ever seen. Poison is NOT educational. It is fetish content for Viv and Raph and others like them. If survivors and fans can turn something objectively negative into something subjectively positive, all the power to them.
Again, into noncon and a CSA victim. I also don't want to see stans taking this and telling me I'm invalid for critiquing Viv and Raph (already dealt with that in my damn fic.) I have been raped/sexually assaulted/groomed/groped/strangled/pinned down/dragged around as a child and NO ONE is ever going to tell me I'm a hypocrite or that I'm wrong for my feelings on this issue. Especially when I also have friends and my own mother as SA and CSA victims as well.
Someone like myself, or like Drake Bell, do NOT need to see how explicitly horrid our abuse was/is to understand how bad it is. I personally had panic attacks watching the episode, and having the knowledge of Raph being an unapologetic rape fetishist, was all I needed to know that that entire episode was fetish content. It's basically an adaptation of Raph's Red Smoke comic. Nearly word for word too. I've written and consumed so many stories over the years to know exactly what's going in their heads.
You know how you actually help a victim? You have friends and family and a therapist help you get out of that situation. Husk "helping" Angel was not the way to go about it.
And I've seen fans argue whether or not Viv is a rape fetishist (she is), but if she wasn't, why is she so adamant on keeping an unapologetic rape fetishist on her staff? He's confirmed to be working on season 2 (God I'm gagging thinking about it) and why does she like so much art (no hate to the artists) of sexy, fetishisized, hot, and sad art of Valentino? If he's supposedly based off HER abusive experience, why does she coddle, woobify, and downplay and sexualize him so much??? I wouldn't base a rapist character or write a rapist character as a fucking "high school Mean girl".
I'm sorry this got so long, but fuck man... it's so fucking disgusting.
Anyways, please watch this. It's got more tact and heart than fucking Poison will ever have. Drake Bell, my heart goes out to you. CSA victim to CSA victim. I hope you get better and can heal. And that goes for all victims as well. 💜🫂 (You too, Chai.)
And Brian Peck, and any and all other rapists, can burn alive in a grease fire. Val included.
https://youtu.be/I5gh8rAVLkI?si=B2eny2U4GZRgDZ7t
https://youtu.be/nSzk-MsVKqA?si=6D4rEihu89Yom7YG
Well said as always, Anon, and thank you for this.
Also, definitely seconding Brian Peck burning up in a grease fire.
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gaslysainz · 9 months
Text
Lost (PG10) pt.1
Summary: The world is utterly unfair. He was her most prized possession, her life, her first ever commitment of love. But to him, she was just a mere person lost in his big world.
warnings: ; unrequited feelings; Pierre is a douche , arrange marriage, angst, heartbreak.
Author's Note~ Heya guys! So I had put out a post about getting motivation to write something up, so thank you to all for commenting and encouraging me! Love You All 😘
Here's my first ever story for you guys. As soon as I finish this one, I'll start taking requests maybe! Till then please show your love and support for "LOST".
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Journal Entry -1
LOVE....It's something that i have always yearned for.
Even if it's fake. A little bit of admiration, a simple compliment can make my day. 
It's been like this ever since my brother, Isaac Conti left the world. I started living with my step mother Annie Conti and my step sister Julia Conti. Yes, Isaac was my step sibling too but he never made me feel like i'm not his own sister.
My brother was the only one who actually loved me and admired me to the fullest in this family. My mother was an Indian and was forced to marry my father after she saved him from an accident when he was travelling in India. I was a part of a mistake. Ever since my maa died everyone except my brother treated me like shit. Even my father. 
But then i met him. My love of my life, the most important person in my life. My husband Pierre Gasly, the playboy of the F1 track!
Once again life played a merciless game with me. The man that i'm committed to, married to , bound by vows is in love with someone else. To be more clear he's in love with my sister Julia Conti.
How pathetic am i to have a life like this huh! We've been married for about 7 months now because that was my brother's last wish before leaving us. Pierre was his friend and he thought that getting me hitched would've been the best thing to do, but to think of it , it was his biggest mistake. He knew i've always had feelings for a certain blue eyed boy, thus, his decision, but what he didn't know was that Pierre has always been in love with my sister and married me only to get close to her. Pierre cleared everything out for me once we came back from the reception right after our wedding.
Now it's been a few days, two months to be exact that they've been dating , oh! and also sleeping around. What's sad is that i've caught them a few times during action in his bedroom. The only thing that i could do is simply go up to the terrace, look up to the sky and cry my eyes out calling out my Maa and my Brother. I don't blame Isaac for anything.  It's all my fate. 
I'm a pathetic excuse of a human as my husband likes to call me, who does not deserve anything in this world except for tears and sadness.
If you're wondering if Pierre had always been like this? Then let me tell you No! 
It all started after 1 month of our marriage when  he started talking to my sister more and giving her more attention. The lies that had been fed to him by my Step Mother and Step Sister about me is what he believed at the end of the day.
Life has always been a mockery for me. I am not allowed to speak to anyone, it's not like i have any friends to talk to. The only thing i am useful for is to tag along with Pierre to a few of his races or a few other important events as his trophy wife just cause it's an obligation.
No one really knows what happens in our life everyday, not even his grid mates. I'm sure it wouldn't have made any difference seeing they are his best friends. I'm not even allowed to talk to them even if i've seen them around at parties and races. I think my attitude has probably led them to think that i'm a snobby little bitch just like my Step sister. Oh yes! I do use bad words sometimes cause why not? I'm supposed to be able to do at least certain things in life right?
It's not like Pierre is going to read what i'm writing here? 
I've given up everything, every little dreams of mine, SO if you ask me if i think that Pierre is ever gonna love me back , then my answer is No!I would never even dream about thinking that he's gonna love me back.
But there's one person who always looks out for me, he's my only friend I suppose, and that's a certain ferrari driver with a charming smile that always lifts up my mood.
Anyways,I'll just sit aside and keep loving Pierre forever, even after he leaves me for my step sister after a year of our marriage. Just 5 more months to go. 5 more months to be with him. 5 more months to stay by his side as trophy wife when he goes out for parties and races. 
His world is a big one. Where he has got his grid mates, his family, his fans, his work people , my step sister even my step mom...... Everyone except for good ol' me....
I, Mrs. Y/n Gasly is just a LOST case in his big world...
Let's see where the upcoming 5 months take us....
PS - Please lemme know what do you think about LOST and also let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list ❤️
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kindestofkings · 6 months
Text
a mastermind [1]
ryan mcmahon x reader
faceclaim:phoebe bridgers
authors note: k so this is kinda an all over the place fic but I had a lot of fun making it so ENJOY! @orangeinecstasy a fellow ryan appreciator, thanks for the brainstorming 🫡
2020
yourusername
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liked by rass75 and others
yourusername oi have you listened to NOACF yet?? theres something special in tracks 8,9,10 and 17 or should I say someone 👀
view all other comments
1975fan1 wow can't believe the 1975 broke their own no collabs rule for matty's girl of the week
yourusername you seeing this ratty? Im your girl of the week 😍😍 trumanblack wait JUST one week?? yourusername yeah so short! better cheat on me quick xxx 1975adam I just dont get you two...
rass75 celebration pints?
yourusername like you need any excuse hahah
trumanblack they're ALL special tracks thank you very much.
1975_fanbase the tumblr gays just overloaded thanks!
trumanblack anything for the cause 👍👍👍
ynfan1 really not a 1975 fan but jesus christ 2005 is so amazing, I just bought the album!
bedfordanes75 studio time was sick can we please do it again
yourusername I do need a producer for my next album...
ryanmcmahon_15 just added to their story!
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replies:
elijahhewson haha man you good? bobbyskeetz new day same crush inhalerfan1 omg you being a yn is everything!
2022
the1975
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liked by yourusername and others
the1975 I'm in love with you. out now.
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rass75 🖤🖤
yourusername its good to be back boys
pollymoney so right I am in love with yourusername
yourusername stop im blushin so hard rn heheh
trumanblack loser
yourusername lover* trumanblack eh alright then
ynhealytruther ahhh I missed you guys so much, such a hot couple
1975fan1 since when have they confirmed they're dating??
ynhealytruther
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liked by ynfan2 and others
ynhealytruther this is confirmation right?? they HAVE to be dating
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ynfan1 ah I really hope not he's kinda old for her no?
1975fan2 yeah tbf it is like 10 years or something...
1975fan1 I hope so they are the definition of bi panic
1975fan2 ew hope not shes kinda ugly
ynhealytruther absolutely no yn slander excepted here! move on with your hate
yourusername
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liked by ryanmcmahon_15 and others
yourusername someone just said stop writing songs about sad things and blowjobs. best joke I've ever heard!
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trumanblack over my dead boy
yourusername pleaseeee dont tempt me with a good time 😍
1975fan1 are you guys dating?? just confirm it already
1975fan2 class music video!!
ynfan1 please date someone else, hes too old for you!!
bobbyskeetz just added to their story!
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man's (celeb) crush is in a relationship (we think) so he's turning to the drink 😔
replies:
inhalerfan1 its yourusername isn't. cause same joshjenkinson_ cause there was defo a chance before hand!
ynfanclub
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liked by ynhealytruther and others
ynfanclub guys I'm at yourusernames's secret session ah! look this is her face when people asked if she was dating matty. adorble!!! and THEN HE CAME OUT AND THEY SANG JESUS CHRIST 2005
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ynhealytruther oh what a day !!!
ynhealytruther my literal parents
ynfan1 hes literal so old ewww
trumanblack
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liked by yourusername and others
trumanblack just friends.
view limited comments
yourusername dw guys he checked my id AND sang robbers beforehand !!
rass75 have you two ever been serious about anything in your lives? yourusername what do you mean I'm taking this job of being matthew healy's controversially young alleged girlfriend VERY SERIOUSLY 😤 trumanblack serious is my middle name mate 😍🔥🤠😎 rass75 why did I even ask....
yourusername
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liked by ryanmcmahon_15 and others
yourusername Ireland I am in you. and loving you as per usual! my (second) favourite Irish artist asked me to stop by at his home gig 😢 so so honoured andrew <3
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ynfan1 I cant believe this, I'M GOING TO HIS SHOW TOMORROW NIGHT!!!
lucydacus parents.
ynfan2 you said it.
inhalerfan1 bestie for research purposes I need to know who's your fav??
yourusername hmmm research purposes you say .... 🤔 inhalerfan1 ahhh hi omgomgomgomg hello
bobbyskeetz huh @ryanmcmahon_15 see this?
yourusername just added to their story!
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replies:
inhalerfan1 OH FUCK YES I KNEW IT I KNEW IT!! inhalerfan1 thank you for answering my question &lt;3 elijahhewson honoured! are you here long? we've a drummer who's a big fan of yours, we could all link up for drinks ? ↳ hi! sounds so fun, I'm here till saturday actually so i've got time! presuming you guys know the best spot for a pint 👀 ↳ elijahhewson sir mcmahon knows the place!
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joshjenkinson_ just added to their story!
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replies:
ryanmcmahon_15 im never coming down from this. and I'll never stop talking about it
elijahhewson still havent recovered from the incredibly girlish scream he let out hahah
bobbyskeetz a king, ill never question him again
yourusername
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liked by trumanblack and others
yourusername psa: offically go ON THE RECORD that I am not dating anyone of these wonderful human beings that are my friends. although they are very beautiful and even hotter, we're all just a homies that are a lil bit fruity 💅
view all other comments
trumanblack wait what?? I thought we were married? what am I telling the kids ???
yourusername tell em their mother is in her hot girl era and their dad's a LOSER
bedfordanes75 you are such a mystery, how does your brain work 🤔
ynhealytruther nooooooo NO say sike rn RIGHT NOW
1975fan1 yay! theres still a chance 😎
inhalerfan1 oh this is really feeding my delusions hehehe
yourusername just added to their story!
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y'all are gonna be so proud I'm off to go SOCIALISE with NEW people ahh 🔥🔥
replies:
trumanblack ooh is this the drinks with bono's sons band? ↳ yourusername you betcha, trading in the nepo baby in my life for a newer model xx rass75 I cannot believe you manifested this. go get that celeb crush ↳ yourusername welll if you insist ! ynfan1 you are soooooo me coded hahahha
AHH how we doing?? Go read part two please 🫶🏼
part 2
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Poppy's Secret Stash
A/N: I never wrote on tumblr before, so I don't know how this works or how formatting works. Also this was written on computer so I don't know if that changes any formatting.
@vacayisland
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Poppy smiled and giggled to herself, pulling out a brand new scrapbook and her supplies. She set out all her fabric, colorful paper, some glitter, and some popcorn to snack on, before getting to work.
In her younger years, back when she was simply Princess Poppy, she LOVED to make stories with her friends about bands and singers they liked, like Violet Wonder, H.E.A.R.T, No Map, and BroZone - especially Brozone - to name a few. They would sit up, late at night, giggling and scrapbooking the stories to their hearts content, and then sharing their stories with the other trolls their age. Before DJ Suki was Dj Suki, she was MAP-LESS. Everyone talked about her scrapbooks, which ranged from midnight getaways from abusive parents to be with Roman Bass, lead singer of No Map, to being being the sixth hidden member of H.E.A.R.T and dating ALL FIVE MEMBERS! Even to being the secret girlfriend of John Dory, leader of BroZone! Poppy was always jealous in awe of her friend's talent, and happy sad that she ended up leaving behind the scrapbooks in exchange for turntables.
Poppy, also known as POPSTAR_X3, was famous for one series as well. She had authored a self insert scrapbook, about her being the "pet" of the BroZone brothers, in a universe where crime ran rampant. The boys, known as the Dory Brothers in her books, kept her safe from all harm as long as she kept them happy. The books were fairly short, about ten chapters each, but she had written about.... Well, she lost track after 15.
See, while most of her friends fell out of the fictional scrapbooking, she would always find time to make these stories about her and her favorite bands. She had an entire bookshelf full to them, that she had successfully hidden away from Branch. If Branch even found one of her books, she'd probably die from embarrassment. Especially since he was one of the people she wrote most about.
Poppy's head jerked up from the page, her eyes wide as she heard some faint voices.
"Are you sure you can just barge in?" That sounded like JD.
"Yeah, Poppy said she was hanging out with Satin and Chenille today. I just need to grab a couple of things." Oh God, that was Branch.
"Well hurry up! I gotta piss so freaking bad!"
"Just go in the bushes!"
Poppy's heart started to beat at a hundred miles a minute as she scrambled to put her supplies away. The lock clicked, the doorknob turned, and Poppy frantically shoved her supplies in a nearby drawer just as-
"Poppy? What are you doing?" Branch asked with a little smile, surprised to see her in her own home. He was supposed to be hanging with his bros right now, and he was, as evidence by the four head peeking through the door.
"Branch! I, uh... Satin and Chenille had to cancel for some, uh, fashion emergency!" She lied with a giggle. "So I just, you know... Decided to have a me day! How are you? How ya doing? How ya been?" She said awkwardly, trying to hide the mess popping out of the drawer. "I'm not hiding anything. What- What- Why did you...come in?"
"I needed to grab my ESK," He said, grabbing a box that said "Emergency Survival Kit". "Are you ok, Poppy?"
"Yeah no I'm fine! Totally fine! Completely fine!" She forced a smile and some giggles before stopping abruptly. "Please leave."
Branch just gave her a weird look before noticing the open book. The one thing she had forgotten to hide. "Oh, I didn't know you write-"
"I don't!" Poppy said, grabbing the book and holding it to her chest. "I'm holding this for a friend!"
Bruce furrowed his brows and tilted his head. "The Dory's Pet-"
Poppy blushed heavily and tossed the book out an open window. She hadn't realized the title was still visible.
"Poppy," Branch said calmly as he closed the distance. "What going on? You know I want judge you." He held her hands and met her nervous eyes. "You can be honest."
Poppy bite her lip and looked at the ground. "I... I write fanfiction..."
"What's that?" The brothers had made their way in the pod now, all staring at Poppy as if she had grown two heads.
"It..." Poppy started and sighed. She pulled away from Branch and grabbed some of her scrapbooks, handing one to him and his brothers to look at. "It's something my friends and I did when we were younger. We would make up stories about ourselves being friends or being in relationships with band members. Sometimes we would make the main character ambiguous so that the reader could be the love interest... I know it's weird, especially now, but... I like it. It's kind of a guilty pleasure..." She smiled gently at the book in her hands, titled "Into the Brozone", which was about Penelope becoming the sixth and only female member of Brozone. Penelope was a fictional version of Poppy, one where she was just an average troll. No royal duties, no kingdom to worry about. Just a troll who wanted to sing and hug and dance (and be Clay's girlfriend.)
"Well..." Floyd said as he thumbed through the pages. "It's well written. And since you're writing about real trolls, then I don't think there's anything wrong as long they're ok with it." He smiled and handed the scrapbook back. "But please, don't write me as straight ever again."
Poppy smiled brightly. "Of course." She took the book back and looked over at Branch. Her heart started to beat faster. She was so nervous about what he would think. I mean, she wrote about falling in love with him and his brothers (among other singers) for years, even if she didn't realize it. There has to be something creepy about that, right?
"Floyd's right," Branch said with a smile. "This is pretty well written."
"Which one is that?" Poppy asked, peeking over his shoulder.
Branch flipped over the book and looked at the cover. "To Hook a Star," he said, going back to where he was. "Apparently, it's about you trying to win my heart." He smiled and handed the book back to her. "We all have our quirks, Poppy. If you like doing this, then do it. Have fun. You should probably ask my brothers or your friends before you write about them."
"You don't think it's weird?" Poppy asked.
"Oh no, it's definitely weird. But as long as you're happy, and no one gets hurt from it, then I think you should keep writing." Branch smiled and cupped her cheek. "Just write about me a little more, ok?"
Poppy chuckled softly. "Of course..." She looked over at the Bros, all looking at the cover of one book. JD looked confused, Bruce looked very concerned, Clay look terrified, and Floyd looked like he was about throw up.
"What?" Poppy asked nervously. "Which one is that?"
They all looked up at her, still looking confused and concerned. JD flipped the cover around so she could see it, before yelling in unison with his brothers. "SOLD TO BROZONE?!?!"
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nadiajustbe · 10 days
Text
A music band HMC AU, but no one actually plays in this band.
See, Howell was put there because of his connection to Suliman, the band's main singer and guitarist (Justin is the second singer and sometimes adds some sparkle, and there are rumors that they are together, but no one can be sure because it's the 80s), with the addition of Megan's screams about how Howell can't find a decent job. Well, he did. And there he's...no, not playing. He's not even a full-fledged member, a he was born an unmusical Welshman and he's terribly upset about it, but still carries that guitar with him, just for it to be. And he tells all the others, especially the girls he's courting, how cool he is and how strong his connection to this cool Suliman's band is, but in reality he's usually just there. He hangs around backstage, gets ready for hours in front of the mirror only to sit at a table eating sandwiches and complaining about his incredible life because yet another woman, whose name he will forget tomorrow, doesn't like him. Oh, and of course, he does some orders, paperwork, sometimes helps with lyrics or costumes, calling himself an expert in everything (but he especially loves costumes, yes).
In general, he lives his best and worst life, sharing Welsh jokes with Suliman™.
Michael got there as a 15-year-old orphan who desperately needed some money. Howl was undoubtedly the author of the idea to invite this unknown sad boy, who had been sitting on the bench for an hour after the concert had ended. He decided to try his hand at mentoring, to elegantly take the boy "under his wing," but it didn't work out well, to put it mildly. Because, although Michael's job is to actually carry things back and forth and be Howl's second assistant, in fact, it is he who is trying to be the voice of reason for this piece of Welshman, because "you can't spend money on another guitar you can't play because Ben bought a new one for himself. No, I don't recommend buying a skull either."
(He complains about this to their local fiery red cat with yellow and blue eyes named Calcifer, who purrs as if he agrees, and then stares at Howl with his eyes burning eyes)
Sophie was miraculously put there by Fanny, because in all universes, Sophie Hatter is destined to be exploited for labor for a pittance because of Fanny. She was personally assigned to the task of sewing costumes, hats, and general decor, and in fact, she was the only one of this team who seemed to have a clear job in this under-troupe. However, over time, she accidentally moves away from hats and becomes (of her own free will) the cleaning lady behind Howl's mess, oops...
At first, she behaves quite quietly, trying not to draw too much attention to herself: she is the eldest of the three, and it is her fate to be stuck somewhere here, behind the scenes and out of the spotlight of the good life and fame, without even thinking about regrets. But over time, seeing how much the crowd really doesn't care about her, and perhaps after breaking a few bones and walking around with a cane, she finally decides to screw it all and goes on all kinds of adventures.
And - oh, yes - she and Howl can't stand each other. So much so that from the moment Sophie arrives, they can't stop arguing about the fit, or the colors, or the look of the performance, or the fact that the little hint of a bathroom they're given was designed for the band members, not for Mr. Howell Jenkins, who has already spent hours in his home shower. And, of course, Sophie continues to involuntarily look at Howell's writing and threaten to remove the spiders he has safely hidden somewhere in the corners, for which she will be called "Ms. Nose" by him (she responds by calling him a slither-outer because, God, man, when are you ever going to face anything but your own reflection?)
Of course, one day she finally finds the moment to go into the bathroom for a second to get something she needs and accidentally mixes the cans of dye Howell left there (it feels as he just leaves his stuff in the bathroom like that on purpose to make Sophie complain, about how his trash shouldn't be there) and OH SURE, the day after that she has to stay up all night cleaning up the scene after Howell throws a horrible tantrum, smashing everything in his path, with good-natured Michael helping her. (And, OF COURSE, this idiot will then say that the color is actually not bad and go on about his business)
And - finally - they can't stand each other so much that they can't spend a second
not to get into a fight with each other (and just be without each other, it seems), so much so that it took Sophie a long time to lose her confidence that all her feelings for him were solely because of the professionally tailored suits she makes, which he always steals from Suliman and Justin, and that stupid damn smile. So much so that they end up kissing somewhere in a secluded corner right before the eyes of the unfortunate spiders.
Obviously, they can't stand each other enough to repeat it more than once.
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peachycrime · 1 year
Text
SLK or Spider/Kiri/Lo'ak Headcanons
idk what these will be about tbh i’m just writing as i think of stuff lmao
Kiri had a phase where she was convinced she was a witch because everywhere she went an animal would just waddle up to her
Spider, Lo’ak and Jake talk to babies like they’re grown people, like no baby talk and it’s hilarious
Lo’ak was once holding a baby, and you know how you hold them high in the air and they’re above you? Yea they were having a moment and then the little creature threw up all over his shirt and started giggling right after
“Dude seriously? we were having a moment wtf” it took everything in him not to just drop the baby
Lo’ak would copy everything Jake did as a kid, his lil mini me fr
Lo’ak’s first words were either dad or Teyam
Spider and Lo’ak both have severe anger issues and lord knows what would happen if they ever turned on eachother abt that anger
Lo'ak is always reprimanded about the things he does, gets yelled at and gets in trouble in situations where he isn't truly at fault. Authority figures never let him explain himself and always assume he's lying or trying to makes excuses and they expect him to just take it and move on. He does, but all that annoyance and anger at a situation he can't help tends to come back up a lot.
With Spider on the other hand, adults can never seem to shut up with their backhanded comments,
"you're nicer than i thought you'd be considering your dad"
"Oh wow you're so smart I didn't think you'd get it'
"You look just like him" (in a bad way)
"Oh you're good at this, who would've thought"
All this stuff and he can't really say anything because he'd be proving them right. So he stays silent, doesn't argue back and boy does he hate it.
One time Neytiri made a comment on the wrong day at the wrong time and he honestly considered violence before he just silently walked out of the room. He definitely punches and breaks stuff but he tries to restrain himself which adds to the pent up anger
They've both used that anger on their bullies, Spider broke the guys nose and dislocated his shoulder by pulling it up his back and making him promise to never show his face again
Lo'ak just went straight to the punches, broke the dudes nose and left him slack jawed
So if you ever catch them in a slightly off mood and you even try to talk to them or act any sort of way, you're getting sent to the nurse. I'm sorry i don't make these rules
Kiri is the mediator, she doesn't want to be but she sometimes ends up being the most rational because when she's upset, anger isn't her default unlike the other two
Lo'ak collects comic books, Jake started the obsession and he went wild. Have a comic or manga you wanna borrow? Vintage or not it's probably in his room somewhere
Spider is a math genius, the formulas are just free balling in his head and it makes it easy for him.
He's also a literature enthusiast but has a hard time expressing his own ideas on paper, great public speaker though
Lo'ak definitely over analyzes his favorite characters, gets sad and cries silently abt it
Kiri is an all around science nerd, she goes to class just because she enjoys helping out w hands on science stuff, most of the content isn't new for her
Kiri despises chemistry, she understands it but finds it uninteresting. Ofc biology and botany are where it’s at
All language nerds
All great at physical education, i mean like the actually science behind the body, they have all the muscle names memorized etc
Kiri is their little jewel, Lo’ak especially, he tries to make it the least obvious but Spider definitely tells her how much Lo’ak cherishes her
Spider is very open with his affections, he just doesn’t feel the need to hide it, they live that loves that about him
Spider and Neteyam know how to cook a mean meal, put them in a kitchen together and you’re literally drooling at the smell
Spider is a spicy food enthusiast right along with Jake and Neytiri
Kiri has had a cat for 4 years, Jake has only known for 2 years because he used to be terrified of them and Kiri didn’t want him to freak out
He now carries said cat like it’s his mini purse
I’m all out
i’ll be delivering some locorro crumbs soon!
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Text
AUTHOR PORTRAIT
Get to know the author behind the blog! Repost, do not reblog
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Basics
NAME: Willow. AGE: 22. PRONOUNS: she/they. YEARS OF WRITING: I've been making up my own stories since I was incredibly small, and I think writing since I was... oh, around 8 years old? In terms of roleplay, I first started out on Tumblr at the poor young age of 14 (yikes, I know), and more or less haven't left aside from a 2-3 year hiatus after the 2018 purge that caused a lot of people to leave, during which I instead wrote on Discord for a spell.
Reflection
WHY DID YOU PICK UP WRITING? Being a 13 yo starved of Mega Man content naturally drew me to Tumblr, I think, where at the time there was a fairly lively roleplay community and a fair amount of fanart being shared. I'd already been familiar with roleplay due to warrior cats LARP and private interactions with people I managed to connect to once I wormed my way into the fandom, so it was only a matter of time before I dipped my toes into the MM RPC after reading the way that people wrote with each other. And then I never left! Many of the friends I made at the time are still really good friends of mine now! I wanted to write because telling stories was something I'd always done, whether it was in my head, or to my younger sister before bedtime, or drawing little comics. It was a logical jump, especially with such an open ended franchise as Mega Man. And now I'm here. DO YOU HAVE ANY WRITING ROUTINES? Yeah, I'd say so. Lately I've found myself kind of picky with the time of day that I write. Maybe I never noticed it before, but I like to block out a good chunk of time while it's bright and sunny to write and find somewhere quiet where I can put on some music and have a nice lil drink. I can write during the night, and regularly have and still do, but something feels better about writing earlier in the day, or even in the morning. Probably because I'm not so drained then. The kind of music I listen to while writing depends largely on the muse and the mood of the thread I need to encompass. For my more sorrowful replies I have several go-tos that I tuck away into the respective muse's playlist, as well as some universal Sad Bops, but I use other songs too! I tend to need to listen to a song on repeat while I'm writing until the reply is done. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE PART ABOUT WRITING? Definitely the click when a muse hits just right. I like to think I'm plenty capable of writing any sort of character if I put my mind to it, but there's only certain muses that really spark a connection that I resonate with, and stumbling upon a muse like that is my favorite because it allows me to really enter a muse's mind. The best examples of that on this blog are definitely Jing Yuan and Ratio, which is why they're my most active muses. When I'm able to feel what my muse feels and truly understand why they work the way they work, that's my favorite moment.
Three things you like about your writing
Oh boy, let's see. Is there anything notable about my writing???? LORE. I definitely put a lot of effort into defining my characters based on the available lore in the game and external research I do on my own. As an academic, especially one in STEM, I have a lot that I have learned and can apply to my muses. The most prominent example of this is probably Ratio and all I've babbled about ecology with him, but I've done it for Jing Yuan too with his electricity. Pulling from mythos and history is also something I find a lot of fun and pride myself on doing. BODY LANGUAGE. With muses that prefer silence and/or subtlety over conversation over the years I've learned to portray a lot of their mental and emotional state through body language and expression rather than speech. It's hard, and certainly something that's been a huge learning curve for me as a yapper who never shuts up, but I like to think I've gotten good at communicating that subtlety! There's always room for improvement though, and I'd definitely love to have more threads and interactions where I can continue to practice. EVOKING EMOTION. I like to think that I'm good at evoking strong feelings with my writing, particularly when it comes to sorrowful and tragic threads or interactions. There's a delicateness to the kind of burden and grief I love to portray, and I imagine I do a fairly good job of dancing along it and pulling others into the state of mind of my muses! (Full disclosure, I hesitated on putting this here because I simply have no awareness of the impact of my writing ever, but after having it affirmed by multiple friends I guess it's cool and definitely not arrogant--)
A question for the next person
DO YOU HAVE A CERTAIN TYPE OF MUSE YOU ENJOY WRITING? Oh gosh, I think looking at the muses I have here on this blog alone kind of answers that! They all follow the theme of compassion and selflessness, though the degree to which and how they apply it differs wildly between the four. I do love writing villains, antiheroes and asshole characters too (and I've written plenty in the past!), but there's something about a noble, pure soul driven by compassion that just hits so good for me. Gestures at Jing Yuan, Ratio, Robin, and Stelle. Honestly I'm impressed I've been able to give them such distinct voices despite their common trope haha. NEW QUESTION: If you were to pick up a muse that would challenge your skills and push you out of your comfort zone the most, what kind of muse would they be and why? Do you have any examples?
TAGGED BY: @duelmarks (ty!!) TAGGING: @etherealguard @celestial-narwhal @celestial-sword-dance @spaced-out-muses and anyone else who wants to do this bc Tumblr limited tags :(
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kayjaydee17 · 9 months
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For the "I wish you would write a fic" prompt, I would love to see more from Norm's pov after Spider and Lo'ak have been saved in your series "daddy's boy (or what big teeth you have)". Or even what he is thinking and doing while they are still kidnapped!
I just love Norm djdkslsldksks
NORM. Norm, my boy, my beloved, oh my gosh, I love him, too. I go absolutely wild when my favourite authors write from Norm's POV.
I think the wonderful, tender thing about Norm is that he's not wrapped up in guilt like Jake is. He feels guilty, yes, but I think he doesn't find his emotions as all-consuming as Jake -- or, if he does, he finds the right time and place to express them. Whereas Jake... I love Jake so much, I adore him, I am a jacket-wearing member of the Jake Sully Defense Squad (also a jacket-wearing member of the Fuck Jake Sully Up Gang, it's fine), but I think Jake's emotions take up so much room. The way I write him reminds me a little of men I've known who cannot talk to you about their emotions without making it about their emotions -- and I think Jake is aware of that and tries so so hard not to be That Guy, but I think he gets so caught up in the guilt of what happened to Spider and Lo'ak, the ways he's let them down, the way it's his clone/twin/batshit-baby-brother hurting them, the way he's the one who uploaded himself to the RDA hard drive, and it turns into him not knowing how to help or relate or get his hands in there and fix things. (I also think Jake is a guy who wants to fix things. Who is bad at sitting there and just letting you be sad because no, he wants to do something, he wants to act, how can he fix this?)
And Norm is -- not that. Norm is not any of that. Norm is emotional, yes, but also a scientist. I imagine that Norm has read so much about trauma. A bit before he came to Pandora and then so much afterwards, when living with the Na'vi and doing his best to help them rebuild. And he loves Lo'ak, and he loves Spider so so much, and he has a deeper understanding of what they're going through -- a clinical understanding, at the very least, and maybe that's more helpful because he's not being triggered the way Jake is, he's not trying to deal with his own related trauma.
And so Norm in these pieces, in these moments of healing and recovery... I love him, I love his presence, I love his kindness. Norm is so fluttery and flighty, but he also feels so steady. And I think Lo'ak and Spider are seeing Jake's steadiness rocked in a way they never have before, and Norm provides a place of, "I've never been seen as a major support system before, I've been someone to laugh with and tease and learn from, but I've never been someone to lean on, and maybe I can be that now." I think he's such a special, lovely, important presence for both boys, but especially for Spider.
The only question is whether they can accept it or reach out for it or ask for it or let themselves have something nice, or if their trauma is just going to keep rearing its ugly head and reaching out with its big blue hands and honeyed abusive words to drag them back under.
(thank you for the chance to ramble about Norm. I love him.)
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