#characters that make me want to shoot myself into space

[tiptapricot]

Thinking ab Liu Kang… thinking about a god who thinks he has lived this new life well, has learned the rises and falls of divine existence and knows what to expect, only to remember he is just a boy given too much power when he reaches a present he cannot control. Faces he used to laugh with, people he has seen grown old, different and changed, but so much the same. Events he thought he had avoided repeating themselves, his timeline slipping from underneath him for the first time possibly in millennia. What is a god meant to do when he cannot escape his own mortality, cannot escape the ghosts yet to come, the blood he must prepare to have spilled at his feet? What is a god meant to do when he cannot fathom his own power? When he is still just a boy so scared to be champion, but must now hold the weight of the universe on his shoulders?

[lovetei]

Hi i just read the current fic you wrote about the brothers seeing sheep mc turn into human in front of everyone and was wondering if i could request a fic/headcannon where sheep mc turn into human when they are alone with the brothers.

Thanks for reading 🥰🥰🥰

Eyy, I knew someone would request this sometime. So as the poll result, I'll make this request first. I actually do requests in a "first come, first serve" manner before but I guess I'll do what you guys want to see first :b

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Their reaction to Sheep!MC turning into their human form, naked, in front of them

Warnings: Suggestive, Vulgar words, might not reach your expectations, your gender is not specified, wrong use of tail, wrong use of desk, wrong use of car hood, wrong use of library, wrong spelling, wrong grammar

Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters

Links: Masterlist

Tags: @commets-space @ikevampharem

Parts: Their reaction to Sheep MC changing into their human form at the end of the exchange program

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LUCIFER

You were on your small form

Sitting on top of Lucifer's desk, discussing some things about school

"I'm sorry, Luci. Can you give me a break..? Somethings wrong with me-" Is what you said before your small hands touched your forehead.

He asked you what's wrong but you just remained silent

Then you started glowing

And there you are

Sitting on top of his desk, naked, with both of your legs on each of his sides

He looked at you in shock, his hands trembling, having a hard time trying to stop them from pulling you close to himself "Well, well, well..." He stood up from his seat and pinned you on his desk.

He climbed on top of you with his knees in between your legs "I guess I'll be opening my christmas gift earlier than everyone else." Is the last thing he said before the doors of his office remained locked for the rest of the night.

MAMMON

You're out with, in a cliff, looking at the stars late at night

Sitting on the hood of his car as you two looked up at the sky and point out the beautiful constellations visible

When suddenly a shooting star passed by

Mammon kept on giggling and told you to make a wish and so you did

"I wish I can have my real body back..." Is what you said.

And after mere seconds, you're glowing, brighter than the stars.

Mammon looked at you, shocked, not believing the view in front of him "MC..?" He asked and you looked at him flustered, knowing that you're fully exposed "Are you okay?!" He asked panicking.

You just assured him that you are but then he smirked "You are?" He asked his voice deeper than before as he got on top of you "Then... How about if I do this?~" He teased as his hand hiked up your inner thigh.

LEVIATHAN

You and Levi are in his room, exploring the new event that appeared in your favorite game.

Sitting on his lap, you started to feel something wrong, like your blood is rushing and you're starting to feel hot even if you're close to Leviathan.

"Levi... I don't feel good... Can you hand me that water?" You asked.

Before he can even think about doing so, you started glowing which caught him off guard.

Right after the light dimmed down, your naked figure that is slumped on his desk while sitting on his lap appeared right before him like some reward.

"I'm so sorry, Levi let me just..." You tried to get off his lap but he held you down, his nails digging on your waist.

You tried to look back at him but his tail appeared out of nowhere and kept your head in place, he then stood up "What are you doing..?" You asked. It's not weird that he stood up, I mean he could be uncomfortable.

But what's weird is that he brought your hips together, his grinding behind yours "H-How could I stop myself..?!" His voice is whiny, even sounds like he's the one getting bent over.

"How can I stop myself when y-you're already in the position..?" He asked as you felt his fingers slowly entering you earning a loud gasp "Urgh!-" You chocked as soon as you gasped as his tail forced it self down your throat "Be good please... Just be g-good..!" He begged.

SATAN

Studying inside the Library with Satan will always be one of the best times

But this session will sure be one of the most memorable

In one of the hidden corners of the library, Satan is teaching you about the books only HOL can have.

When suddenly, a light lit up, brightening the dark corner of the library

But that wasn't a light

It was just you

Satan panicked as he thought that maybe he accidentally activated a spell while reading the book titles but... It seems that he's panicking for nothing.

He asked you a few times if you were okay and when you reassured him that you were, he can't help but smile as he watch you jump up and down out of pure happiness, seeming unaware that you're naked in front of him.

Just when he thought everything is perfect, someone just has to barge in 'I'm not letting anyone else see them like this.' is what he thought before he pinned you on one of the shelves with one of his hands covering your mouth and the other one caging you.

You asked "T-This is a good news... Why are you s-shutting me up?" like his good little slut, not even talking about how your legs is starting to quiver after he put one his in between yours, grinding them against you just right.

"Hmm... Do you want them to see you like this?" He leaned in closer to your ear as he licked your neck. He kept his hand on your mouth as he humped you up and down his leg, muffling all the sounds you're making.

"Shh... Control yourself and don't make a mess. You don't want to mess up all these books just because you're being a slut now do you?" He teased before you heard him unbuckle his belt.

ASMODEUS

Being a sheep sure is hard...

You can't wear anything else other than the clothes Asmo makes you.

And by most of the time the only thing you need to wear is some white collar with a tie to look presentable.

And so that's what you had Asmo make you for your formal presentation next week.

"Wow, Darling. Your skin is really... Glowing..?"

You looked at him shock, not knowing what to do after you saw yourself naked with only the white shirt collar and the black tie "Asmo-" "Stand up." He ordered.

He look stressed... His hand is covering his eyes as he he slowly turned around while you stand up. He then stand behind you, looking at your body through your reflection.

"I can't look at you face to face dear..." He explained as he plays with your hair from behind, and that's when you noticed how the pink of his eyes glow brighter than ever.

"But I can't let you go too..." He whined as his hands dropped to your waist "So what should we do..?" He asked as he went down to suck on your neck.

"Ah... And I'm not asking you to go out or anything..." He added "I just want to know what position you want to start to with~"

BEELZEBUB

You're on top of the kitchen counter as Beel eat the dessert you created

He's clearly enjoying it too, smiling so bright as he eats

"Beel can you check if I turn off the oven..?" You ordered as you started to feel hot

Beel looked at you in shock as you started to glow thinking you got caught in fire.

You looked at him in shock as you remained still "MC?" He called out and you just nervously said yes.

He remained silent as he looked at up and down "Is there something wrong..?" You asked while smiling nervously and he shook his head.

"No, I just... Got hungry." He commented making you confused, earlier he told you that your dessert made him feel full for once and now he's hungry again?

"Yes, yes... I feel full after eating those desserts but I'm hungry..." He repeated "For the one that cooked them." He added which caught you off guard.

BELPHEGOR

It was late at night and you're cuddling with Belphie

It's usually cold during night time in the Devildom but you're feeling unusually hot for some reason

You looked to your side and saw that Belphie is not even sweating

The room suddenly brightened so you thought that someone opened the room and turned on the lights

But Belphie is here and Beel is out for night work out

Oh... It's coming from you...

You looked around and realized that Belphegor is still asleep, you also realized that you're naked, completely, and so you tried to get off the bed to at least put some clothes on and get back to cuddling him.

Wanting to surprise him as soon as he wakes up, the thought makes you giggle constantly but when you're about to get off the bed someone grabbed your wrist.

"Fuck..." He groaned out, his head thrown back and his eyes glowing purple "I want to elt you do what you want and wait until the morning so that your little surprise plan will work but..." He explained.

"But you just have to make me so damn hard." He teased, even chuckling a little before he picked you up and put you on top of him, slightly grinding you against the obvious tent in his pants.

"Move." He ordered "And maybe if you satisfied me enough I'll let you get off this bed and pretend that I don't know about your plan the next morning." He mocked.

"That is if you can still walk after this." He grinned.

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[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Otherverse

Summary: After stepping through the rift, Dean and the reader find themselves in an entirely different universe altogether. Monsters don’t exist, everyone they’ve ever lost is alive and there is some strange dynamic going on with everyone. Luckily they’ve run into themselves to help them out...

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader

Word Count: 4,700ish

Warnings: language, mentions of sex

A/N: This fic is such a hot mess and has been hiding in my drafts for oh, five years? Time for it to see the light of day! Please enjoy!

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Dean was shrugging his shoulders at you from the other side of the kitchen table. The fact his twin was setting a cup of coffee down in front of him wasn’t the strangest thing you’d ever ran into but it was certainly up there.

“So...this is fucking weird,” said the other Dean, a few less bags under his eyes than yours. 

“Yeah, you’re telling us,” said your Dean, the other one nodding his head.

“Well, Y/N should be home from the store soon,” said the other Dean, chuckling when he saw you shake your head. “You can call me something else if it makes it easier for you to keep it all straight.”

“We could call him Red,” said Dean, smirking over at you.

“Oh come on,” you said, blushing as you looked at your lap. “Not in front of...”

“Red shirt of sex?” asked the other Dean, Red you figured you were going with.

“Yours does it too!” said Dean, the pair laughing to themselves. “Some things even time and space can’t contain.”

“It is a pretty lucky shirt,” said Red with a smile, grabbing your cup of coffee when the machine buzzed off. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” you said, Red taking a deep breath. “What?”

“You guys smell weird is all,” he said, both your and Dean’s heads cocking. “I’ll uh, explain once Y/N gets home. She’s better at words and crap.”

“So...” said Dean, tapping his fingers on the nice kitchen table. “Nice house.”

“Built it myself,” said Red, stretching in his seat. “Took nearly a year. Y/N has the patience of a saint. I mean, it helped I had my crew of guys working on it but still, a track home would have been much easier to go with. You don’t get character when you go that route though.”

Dean just hummed, sipping from his cup as he gave you a look. You and Dean had never once thought about building a house or living in the suburbs or anything remotely close to that. Two childhoods worth of motel rooms were what you had, the bunker your home but even that was nothing like the place you were sat in.

“Thanks again for not shooting us when we popped up in your backyard,” you said with a smile, Red nodding.

“I really didn’t want to mow the lawn today anyways,” he said, eyes drawn to the back window where the rift had been. Something screwed up though. It shut almost immediately, trapping you and Dean in this other world until you could figure out how to hitch a ride back home. “What’s your guys world like again?”

“Looks just like this,” you said.

“Except we hunt monsters,” said Dean. Red raised an eyebrow but only took a long sip of coffee. “You’re not freaking out over that?”

“The freak out moment has passed for me,” he said. “Monsters...that’s intense.”

“Yup,” you and Dean said, thankful when you heard a sound come from the next room over. 

“Excuse me,” said Red, standing up quickly, returning a moment later with a baby on his hip. “Hey pup, this is me and your mom from another universe. They hunt monsters...this is so totally going to sound insane to her when she gets back.”

“He’s so cute,” you said, standing up and taking a look at him. 

“They have kids,” said Dean, running a hand through his hair.

“You guys don’t?” asked Red.

“Our lives aren’t what I’d call safe,” said Dean, Red nodding his head. 

“I get you,” said Red, the front door opening somewhere else in the house.

“Alpha, I’m home! Can you get the heavy stuff out of the trunk?” you heard a voice eerily similar to your own shout.

“Coming Omega,” said Red, putting the baby in your arms. “Could you watch the pup for a minute?”

“Is it just me or do these guys have some weird names for stuff?” you asked, holding the smiling baby on your hip.

“He keeps calling his kid a pup. Like a puppy?” asked Dean, his eyes wide when you heard the floor creak behind you.

“Well, he did say there was some epically weird shit happening in the kitchen,” said another you, scratching her head with her free hand. 

“Hi,” you said, the other you reaching for her baby. “I’m Y/N.”

“Yeah. Me too but I’m guessing you already knew that,” she said. “Is handsome over there, Dean?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” said Dean.

“Oh, good,” she said, setting a bag on the counter. “This is completely normal.”

An hour later you were sat in the Winchester’s living room, Red and Lila, at least that was the name you’d decided on calling the other you for now, sitting down on another couch.

“Okay, so I have a question,” said Lila, Red tsking her. “We can’t smell you guys. What are you?”

“Huh?” you and Dean said, looking at one another.

“Well if you’re like us, Dean should be Alpha and Y/N Omega but you two smell flat, like nothing. It’s weird,” said Lila.

“I don’t think our dynamic exists where they come from, Omega,” said Red. Lila stared at you for a good long while before she stood up and threw her hair up in a bun, revealing a bite mark on her neck.

“This...” she said, pointing at the spot, “Is a claiming bite. Dean, er Red, gave it to me when we mated and he claimed me. You guys are saying you have none of that?”

“Dude, I know she likes a little nibble but don’t actually bite her,” said Dean, scrunching up his face at Red. “Don’t tell me you’re some kind of asshole.”

“Red’s being very patient with you right now so I’d back off,” said Lila.

“Relax,” said Red, wrapping his arms around Lila’s shoulders. “She’s getting close to heat. She gets a little protective during that time.”

“You should see this one on her period,” said Dean, pointing at you.

“Speaking of which, if we don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to need to borrow some stuff,” you said, Lila glancing up at Red. “Supplies?”

“Well...we might need to run to the store for you. I think...you guys are like Beta’s right now, even if you don’t smell like it. We can get you whatever you need,” said Red, Dean cocking his head.

“Explain this dynamic thing to us again cause right now, you two sound like a basket full of crazy,” said Dean.

“Says the guy that came through an inter-dimensional rift in my backyard?” asked Lila.

“Dammit, she really is like you,” muttered Dean, Lila smiling to herself. 

“It’s pretty simple. We have six genders. A male and female version of the three dynamics, Alpha, Beta and Omega. Beta’s normally pair off together, leaving the Alpha’s and Omega’s to get together,” said Red.

“Yeah but...you bit her,” said Dean.

“Things are a bit more...animalistic here,” said Red, Dean’s face scrunching up. “Come here dude.”

Red got up from the couch, waving Dean to follow. They ducked around the corner, Dean back with wide eyes about ten seconds later.

“Okay, animalistic, got it,” said Dean, staring at his lap. “You’ve got a...fuck.”

“It’s a knot,” said Lila. “A lot of mammals have them actually.”

“Oh, that’s why the baby’s a pup,” you said, Lila smiling that it was starting to make sense to you...in a way.

“It used to be different and it’s still possible for life to be very dangerous for unclaimed Omega’s but Red’s an amazing Alpha to me,” said Lila.

“The Alpha protects it’s pack members or in this case, it’s family?” you asked, Red giving you a thumbs up. 

“See? You got a smart one too. It’s not that difficult. The only truly dangerous part is when you’re unmated. But even then they have stuff to hide your scent and very few Alphas are actually bad. Our world is probably safer than yours from what you’ve told us,” said Red.

“I don’t understand the biting thing though,” you said, Dean nodding beside you.

“It’s a bond,” said Lila. “A permanent one. It’s like getting married but you can’t get divorced.”

“That seems...unethical,” you said, both Red and Lila scrunching up their faces.

“If you grew up in this world, you would understand it’s completely natural and safe. We’re partners, no matter what,” said Red. “Like how she was scared when she saw you two in the kitchen but because I knew it was safe, she knew it was safe. It’s a physiological bond down to your core.”

“You love her,” said Dean.

“Yes,” said Red. “She loves me and we’re very happy.”

“We should go,” you said, Dean already on his feet.

“You guys don’t-”

“Lila,” you said with a smile. “Our problem isn’t yours. We’ll find a way back to where we belong without interfering with your lives anymore. Thank you for explaining things to us but we’ll get out of your hair. It’s safer that way.”

“You guys know where we live if you change your mind,” said Red.

“Thanks,” said Dean, spinning back around. “Where do we get those supplies again?”

“A pharmacy, big box store, anywhere really,” said Red.

“Last question...do they have pie here?” asked Dean.

“Dude, the diner on Main...best pie ever,” said Red, already licking his lips.

“We’ll be sure to check it out. Thanks again.”

You and Dean got a few strange looks around the store, Dean standing closer than normal.

“What is wrong with you? Personal space, Dean,” you said, grabbing a box of tampons and pads, tossing them in a basket along with the few other things you’d picked out. You were used to living on the road so this wasn’t that big of a deal...if only Dean would back off of you.

“I don’t know, I just want to be close,” said Dean, snatching the basket from you and quickly paying.

You were halfway down the block to the diner Red had mentioned when Dean put a hand on his forehead.

“Dean? What’s wrong?” you asked, grabbing the bag as he leaned up against the wall. “Dean.”

“Talk about a late bloomer,” said a passerbyer, your glare making him shrug. “He’s starting to present. I never heard of someone that old going through it though.”

“Go away,” you said, Dean throwing his arm over your shoulders, half walking with you as you made your way out of town and back to the Winchesters place.

“Well I didn’t expect...” said Red, scrunching up his nose. “Oh shit. Y/N! We got a problem!”

Red grabbed Dean and started to drag him upstairs, tossing him on a bed as Dean groaned.

“Y/N, you need to go to the pharmacy. I need you to get a first time Alpha pack and Rut medicine. Tell the pharmacist and they will get it for you. Understand?” said Red, shoving his wallet in your hands. “My Y/N, can you get up here please?”

“First time Alpha pack and Rut medicine,” you said, eyes wide as Lila brushed past you and into Dean’s room. “What’s wrong with him?”

“His body is taking on a dynamic. It’s puberty for us basically. I didn’t think...just go and we’ll figure the rest out later,” he said. “Get the medicine and he’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” you said, Red tossing you his car keys. 

“Make it fast.”

“Here,” you said twenty minutes later, Dean shouting into a pillow when you got back, Red standing by the door.

“Dean, Y/N got your medicine so...” said Red, Dean huffing and puffing when he saw you. “Dean...”

“She’s gonna turn too isn’t she,” said Dean, clutching at the pillow before it tore in half. “What the fuck?”

“You’re getting stronger, even stronger than you were. It’s an Alpha thing. Y/N, go down the street, dark green house. My Y/N and the pup are there,” said Red.

“I want to stay with Dean,” you said, an arm instantly slapped over the doorway.

“He’s going into his first rut with no idea how to control any of this. If he’s right and you start turning too, he’s gonna claim you without even thinking about it,” said Red. “Go now.”

“I don’t wanna go,” you growled, Dean shaking his head.

“Y/N,” said Dean, wrapping his arms around himself. “Do what he said. I can’t...I’m scared I’ll hurt you. Just go someplace safe for now.”

“He is trying his best not to come over here and take you so leave, now,” said Red. 

“You better take care of him,” you said, heading down the stairs.

“I’ll get him through it. Trust me,” said Red.

You jogged outside and spotted a dark green house about a quarter mile down the road, a very pretty ranch with a front porch and two expensive cars in the driveway.

“Hey, Y/N,” said Lila, opening the front door for you. “Red called, he’s going to be dealing with Dean for a while so we’re going to keep an eye on you just in case.”

“Thanks,” you said, stepping inside the warm house, smelling fresh cookies in the air. 

“Prepare yourselves for the weirdness,” said Lila, trotting along ahead of you. 

“Oh it can’t be that weird,” said Sam as you turned the corner, watching him try to steal a cookie off the sheet, a woman you’d only ever seen in pictures swatting his hand away. “Jess, come on.”

“Wait until they’ve cooled off,” she chided, Sam rolling his eyes as he glanced in your direction.

“Wow. You weren’t kidding with the weird,” he said, walking over with a smile. “I’m-”

“Hi Sammy,” you said, wrapping your arms around him in a way too hard hug but not caring in the slightest.

“Hello other Y/N,” he teased, trying to break free, taking a breath when you finally pulled away. “You alright?”

“Yes. No,” you said, looking him up and down. “You look good, Sam. Sorry, I know you’re not...it’s just been a really hard few months.”

“Okay...” said Sam, Jess pouting beside him when she caught your face.

“Your Sam...” she said. “Oh shit. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, Lila sighing.

“Her Sam’s gone, Sam,” she said, Sam making an odd noise. 

“I’m sorry. This is probably pretty traumatizing then,” he said.

“I’ve seen weirder,” you said. “Dean and I...like I said, it’s been hard. We’ve lost a lot of friends and family recently. But Jess is alive so that’s awesome and did you seriously buy a house down the street from your brother?”

“Uh, he’s sort of pack leader,” said Sam.

“Oldest child is normally the pack leader,” said Lila. “We have our own houses but it’s normal for the family to live close to each other. Plus these guys have a pool.”

“How you feeling, hun?” asked Jess, putting a hand on your forehead. “She’s a little warm.”

“When was your period supposed to start?” asked Lila.

“Tomorrow,” you said, all three sharing a look. “Why...”

“I think Y/N’s going to start presenting soon,” said Jess. “Sammy, go help your brother with our new Alpha. It might take two of you to keep him there.”

“Keep him there? What the hell is Red doing to Dean?” you asked.

“He’s sort of stuck in that room until his rut passes. But if he’s in rut and you’re in heat, he’ll do anything he can to get here and claim you,” said Lila. “It’s best to keep you separated for the moment.”

“Lovely.”

It was close to midnight, Lila poking her head in the room you were staying in with a cranky baby in her arms.

“How you feeling?” she asked.

“Spectacular,” you groaned, Lila taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “I’m changing. I can feel it. I can smell it. I can smell you and that little guy and Jess and...I can even smell Dean down the street.”

“You’re Omega,” said Lila, patting your leg. “You and Dean need to be careful not to mate. I don’t know if whatever’s happening to you will become permanent.”

“Let me ask you a question,” you said, sitting up in bed, the pup turning his head towards you.

“You’re confused, aren’t you Drew? Mommy’s got a twin apparently,” she said, Drew tilting his head and reaching for you.

“How’d you convince your Dean to have one?” you asked, the baby grabbing a piece of your hair and pulling it in his mouth.

“He’s always wanted them,” she said with a smile. “Yours doesn’t?”

“We do but we can’t, not with our lives. We work in a high fatality industry if you want to call it that,” you said. “We wouldn’t do that to them.”

“Well you’re out of a job until we can get you back,” she said, taking Drew off of you. “Take the medicine I gave you again in the morning. It’ll help.”

“Why are you guys helping us?” you asked.

“We might not kick monsters asses on the regular but we do help people out when we can,” said Lila. “Get some rest. You need it, especially during your first heat.”

Three Days Later

“Hey,” you said, following Lila into her house, Dean sitting with Red and Sam in their family room.

“Damn, you smell good,” said Dean, taking a deep breath. “They said you turned too.”

“Yeah. Nothing’s too much different,” you said, Dean nodding his head. “You?”

“Plumbing’s got a new feature,” said Red with a smirk, Lila slapping him on the arm. “He’s an Alpha. He’s got a knot now.”

“What’s that like?” you said, Dean shifting in his seat. You could feel how nervous he was, trying to cover his lap with his hands. “You think I’ll reject you.”

“What the...” said Dean, your own eyes blinking fast at saying that aloud. “How could she...”

“It’s a mate thing,” said Red. “Y/N, Sammy’s been doing some research with Jess and they have a kind of crazy idea.”

“Crazy’s in our wheelhouse,” you said, walking over to sit next to Dean, taking one of his hands in yours.

You felt warmth spread throughout you, filling you up, nostrils inhaling what had been explained to you as Dean’s scent. Only he smelled like the best thing on earth and all you wanted were his teeth sinking into your neck. Sam picked you up and pulled you over to the other couch, Dean swallowing hard as you moved away.

“No touching,” said Sam in your ear, relaxing his hold on you as you realized you’d been squirming to get free. “The research we found was odd but we’re pretty sure that your rift thing will pop back open again. It’s been four days. You guys just need to last another three and then hopefully when you go home, you go back to normal.”

“I looked it over and it’s not exactly what I’d call reliable,” said Dean, crossing his arms. “As far as I can tell, magic, monsters, it doesn’t exist here. It’s an old wives tale Sam’s reading from about what’s probably not the rift.”

“But if magic doesn’t exist here, we can’t get back home,” you said.

“I know. I guess we have to wait and see if it was true.”

Three Days Later

“I can’t believe we’re back again,” you said, glancing around at the quiet bunker, Dean sighing beside you. “What?”

“I’m never going to see Sam again,” he said. “That wasn’t Sam back in there but it was and him and everyone else is gone again. Meanwhile, it’s me and you here, scraping by, giving up everything for nothing.”

“We hunt Dean. It’s what we do,” you said, wrapping your hand around his.

“I want to have a family with you. I want to have kids and a house and we will never, ever have those things here. We’re gonna sit in this bunker, working cases until one of us dies and that’s it. I know I will do this job until the day I die but I wanted a choice dammit and we will never get one,” said Dean. “Never.”

“I think we do have a choice, Dean,” you said, glancing back over your shoulder at the rift. “But we can’t undo it once we make it.”

“Go live there?” asked Dean, nodding behind himself. “What, we gonna play house? Pretend we aren’t screwed up?”

“Beats one of us dying and the other one drinking themselves to death,” you said. “We have saved so many people Dean. The world. This family has given up everything. I don’t want to leave either but we barely have anything left to fight in this place. A monster here or there. Other hunters can handle it. All of our friends and family are in that world and they aren’t ours but think of how they treated us the past week.”

“Like we were family,” said Dean quietly, rubbing his hands over his face. 

“I think our friends, our family, they’d want us to be happy again,” you said.

“Say we go back though, I’m stuck as an Alpha and you’re Omega,” said Dean.

“Even in this world, you smell amazing,” you said. “We don’t know if we’ll go back to normal.”

“I still feel like an Alpha,” said Dean, taking a deep breath. “All I want to do is be somewhere safe with you.”

“What do you want to do then?” you asked.

“I say we pack our bags.”

You were blinking furiously a few hours later, Dean panting hard as his hands gripped the steering wheel.

“Fuck!” you heard outside the car, your head whipping to the right to see Red dropping a hose and storming over.

“Hi Red,” you said, slipping out of the car, Red shaking his head.

“Did you bring a freaking car through your magic rift thingy? Why are you even back here? I thought we fixed it,” said Red.

“We uh,” said Dean, looking over to watch the rift close up once and for all. “We sort of moved universes.”

“Okay...” said Red, Dean climbing back in to pull the Impala around to the front of the house and in the street. “You realize saying both Y/N and I had long lost identical twins we never knew about is never going to fly, right?”

“Just say we were out of town, traveling the world,” you said. “Dean and I just wanted to stop by and say hi before we take off. We can find our own quiet corner to hide away in.”

“As pack members, you’re supposed to live close by,” said Red, crossing his arms.

“But we’re not in your pack,” you said.

“Not yet. You will be though,” said Red, kicking at the ground. “Unless you think we’re too weird for you guys with the dynamic thing.”

“I’m pretty sure Dean and I are the freaks around here,” you said, Red nodding his head. 

“Well, come inside. We should go over the dynamic crap in a bit more detail now that you’ll be living it.”

“You know what,” said Dean, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck later that night. Red and Lila had taken Drew over to his parent’s house to spend the night, having their own date night and saying they’d catch up in the morning.

“What,” you sighed, running your hand up and down his back, his new scent coming off his bare back in strong waves, making you warm and calm.

“I’d like to claim you if that’s alright with you,” said Dean. 

“You can,” you said, turning your head so Dean lifted his own to look at you.

“Are you sure? Brand new universe, plenty of Alphas in the sea,” he teased.

“I want this one,” you said, putting a hand on his chest. “Red explained it to you?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s pretty much sex up until the claiming part and instinct will take over,” said Dean. “If you’re ready for that.”

“I’m ready for it. Alpha,” you said, Dean taking a deep breath. “Why doesn’t that sound as corny as it did a week ago?”

“I don’t know, Omega,” said Dean, a smile spreading across your face. “But it damn sure feels right.”

“Oh,” you said, a blush on your cheeks at the sudden wetness between your legs. “Lila mentioned that might happen.”

“Get out of those underwear, Omega. We’re doing this.”

Two Months Later

“You didn’t tell me your Dean was a handyman,” said Lila, sitting on a lawn chair, watching Drew play on his mat in the grass as the boys walked around the freshly dried foundation of your new house. 

“He’s good at a lot of things. He knows more about cars than houses but he’ll put in as much manual labor as he can,” you said, Drew crawling over to tug on your leg. “It’s Aunt Y/N, handsome. Here’s your mommy.”

“I think the twins want you,” said Lila, laughing as Dean and Red cocked their heads over at you. At a quick glance, most people assumed they were twins but it was easy for you to spot the differences. Red wasn’t quite as bowlegged and had no tattoo on his chest. Dean had more freckles and his shoulders looked broader, at least to you. 

“Boys,” you said, Dean walking on the subfloor to somewhere around the middle of the house. “Yes?”

“We have a disagreement on the layout,” said Red. “Dean wants a little library room which is cool and Lila will be super jealous that I didn’t think of one for her but why’s it got to go in the middle? Wouldn’t you prefer it to be on the edge of the house with a window seat? Or a nice big cubby to put a day bed in?”

“Library, huh?” you asked, Dean smirking to himself. “Make it a large hall way, double sided bookcases on each side, maybe some big comfy chairs in the middle, a coffee table. It’s more of a pass through that way and you’ll still get the light from the back windows.”

“That’s actually a really good idea,” said Red. “Any other tidbits of wisdom you want to spout off?”

“Make it feel like home,” you said, Dean smiling. 

“We will. We definitely will.”

_____________

[cadavercrafts]

I hate to start drama so please forgive me, but why would you create a figure of a character (Valentino) that is a rapist? Even if they're fictional, I think it sends a really bad message.

No offense taken at all, anon, but this will be a long one! I heard of other people who like villains getting similar messages but i've never gotten one myself despite all the things i've made fanart for in the past. So i'm almost happy to talk about this?

It's 100% fine to hate certain fictional characters and just not wanting to see them at all. I think many people (especially with trauma) can relate to seeing a character in media that just makes them feel sick, i sure know some! But you're also talking to a dedicated horror nerd here. I have an expensive action figure of a monster-pregnant half skinned man in my shelf, anon. Rape doesn't even BEGIN to cover what some of the characters i like have been doing in their little fake freakworlds.

I love to explore horror and dark themes because fiction gives you a space to do this in a secure controlled environment and that's why it's so wonderful. We all have different levels of hard topics we can handle but if something is too much for you you can step away, shut it off and you are free and safe. No, i would not enjoy to be skinned alive for real and i don't think it's a very nice thing to do to others either, i have zero sympathy or interest in real life criminals. But Hellraiser is still a neat book!

I'm an adult and I'm able to freely chose what kind of themes and media i want to interact with and so are you. I mean, i don't know if you're an adult, but you have the power to chose regardless. My nickname is CADAVERcrafts and i made so so so so much fanart for awful villains before, ones who did way worse things than Valentino. Ripping heads off, killing kids, eating people- you know, the usual! I'm afraid you're not gonna like many things i'll make in the future but i always tag everything so you can absolutely avoid it by putting it on your blacklist. No Valentino jumpscares on your dash from me!

To be quite honest i thought of a lot of kinda funny dismissive replies at first but i don't want to shit on people who are genuinly upset. If you want something trigger tagged in the future just shoot me a message, i like to claim i'm not nearly as much of an asshole as the characters i make in clay. And if you just can't stand it then unfollow me, throw me in the bin! I'm just some online weirdo, you don't need me in your life if my works make you sad. Toss it, it's cool, this is your playzone and you get to decide who gets in!

[glossglamour]

Full Robert Sean Leonard 'House'-a-palooza Interview: "As we know, I’m straight, but yeah, it’s like, homina homina homina."

May 01 2006 | By Maureen Ryan

Do you watch the show much?

"I can't watch it. I mean, Hugh doesn't watch it because he's anal and … eight years old. [laughs] And by the way, I don’t buy it, I think he does watch it.

“I watched in the first year. We live in New York and [my fiancé] was in California] and she likes it because I’m on it. But then she left, she had to come back to New York, and what are you going to do? The idea of me watching myself on TV, alone in Santa Monica, was just about... just short of, like, a bottle of Maker’s Mark and a shotgun away from shooting myself. [much laughter]  So I haven’t watched it all season. But when I have watched it, I’ve been mildly confused and Hugh is appropriately grumpy."

I have this theory that a lot of my favorite shows aren’t even about what they’re supposed to be about -- they have to be set in a hospital or police station or outer space or whatever because the network can market that, but they’re secretly not even about that. Like, ��House” is really about ethics and morality.

“Yeah, sure, I think that’s true.”

But you can’t pitch that show to the network. “Hey, we have this great show that examines personal morality!"

“‘It’s based on “A View from the Bridge.”’

Right! They’re really going to for that.

“Yeah. [laughs] I think it’s good, and when it’s right, when the show works, the mystery works. It has a Sherlock Holmes-ian feel to it, and you do kind of want to know what’s wrong with [the patients]. And it is interesting, the turns and twists that get you there. And there’s always a little bit of character-driven fun stuff in between, of who these people are and how they affect each other. And that’s it at its best. And I guess that could be true of any show.

“It’s tricky, you’ve got a lead character [who’s different from the TV norm] and you’ve got to be careful because those characters can be one-note. He’s the cranky guy, he’s the Australian guy, I’m the friend in one or two scenes a week. You just have to be careful, and I think we are, we have a really great team of writers. And the numbers are building, people are watching.”

So this two-parter on May 2 and 3, I think the unofficial subtitle is the “Festival of Foreman.” I guess they’re his Emmy episodes, and that’s fine. But you’re hardly in them, what’s up with that?

“Honestly, I’m okay. I don’t want an Emmy. This is what I want -- I know exactly what I want. I did play with a guy named Skip Sudduth, ‘The Iceman Cometh,’ seven years ago. I saw him five years later, and I said, ‘Geez, Skip, where have you been? I don’t see you at readings anymore.’ He said, ‘I’ve been on “Third Watch.”’ It sounded familiar but I’d never seen it. He said, ‘I’ve been doing it for five years.’ I said, ‘Holy crap!’ And he was back doing theater. That’s my dream.

“And it’s happening. I walk down the street and people say, ‘Where are you?’ and I say, ‘I’m on this show called “House.”’ My friend Lewis Black [from 'The Daily Show'] said, ‘What is it called? “Head”?’

“I’m okay. I’ve never been happier than where my career is now. And I don’t want it to change necessarily. Money’s good, and I’m glad I’m getting that, and I’m putting it away for later in life when I do more Tom Stoppard plays at Lincoln Center and make no money. But really, I’m great. I don’t mind working two days a week.

“Because those other guys, the Scooby gang, or the Mod Squad -- they are at that studio for 16 hours a day saying ‘tachycardia, lupus, blablahdeblah.’ Honestly, I’d kill myself if  had to do those scenes for that long. I’m very happy with the size of my role, I don’t want it to get any bigger. I’m happy.”

So we won’t see the very special “House” episode where Dr. Wilson almost dies?

“That might be how I get off the show.” [laughs]

Well, you could die and come back as a ghost. Then it would be the “House Whisperer.”

“Yeah [laughs]. The hair makeup people were saying one day, ‘Oh, I love those scenes with you and Hugh, there should be more of that.’ And I’m like, ‘Shhh! Don’t say that!’ I’m the luckiest man in Hollywood. I work only with Hugh, pretty much, who’s great. And I work two days a week.”

Do you fly back and forth to New York then?

"No, not really. They don’t let me because they need me around, the schedule changes so much. I’m going to try to get away with that a little more [in the upcoming season]. Now that [my fiancé] is here, I really will kill myself if I’m out there as much as I was last year, without her.”

So five days a week you’re doing what – Botox injections? Going to the mall? Watching “Maury”?

“Rob Lowe once said the secret to being an actor in L.A. is sleeping as late as you possibly can and going to be as early as possible. I remember him saying, ‘I recommend pajamas by 4:30 p.m.’”

What’s interesting about this show is that they’re taken something that could be a very formulaic procedural and quite often turn it on its head.

“I didn’t know anything about TV, I’d never done [a TV show], but I now know very well that there are procedurals and character-driven shows. ‘Law & Order’ is a procedural and ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ is a character-driven show. The test [as to which category a show is in], someone once said to me, which I thought was hysterical, is this question: Did Sam Waterston sleep with [the assistant DA] on ‘Law & Order’? If the answer is ‘I don’t give a [hoot], I want to know the next element of the case,’ then it’s a procedural.

“Our show is weirdly, and there must be precedent for this, but it’s weirdly equally both. I think it’s very much a procedural, and without that sick patient every week, we wouldn’t work. And without the character stuff it wouldn’t work. And weirdly, people do care if House sleeps with one of our characters, and also care equally what’s wrong with this person and how they’re going to solve the case.”

I guess I like the character stuff better, but you’re right, it probably wouldn’t work without the suspense of the weekly case and somebody being critically ill.

“No, I think you need that. I think the echoes of Sherlock Holmes are too strong. The original idea of the show was House and Wilson, like Holmes and Watson. But it got away from that, and his team is Watson, if you want to be technical about it.

“I’m more like … the only way I’ve found to define it, and it’s so pretentious that it makes me want to jump out a window, is like King Lear’s fool. I’m like the only one who tells him the truth. And [Wilson] has nothing to lose. I don’t work for him and he doesn’t work for me. I’m the only character who chooses to be with him as opposed to being there because of a job. And because of that I have the freedom to tell him what I think. Not that Cuddy holds back much.”

I think her role is to say, "No! Bad House!"

“Have you talked to Lisa Edelstein [who plays Cuddy]? She’s so great. This Japanese woman once said to her, ‘You on “ER”!’ And she said, ‘I have been on “ER,” but now I’m on “House.”’ And [the woman says] ‘Oh yes, “House.” You say, “No, you don’t!”’ Every time we do the table read, I burst into laughter at some point, because there is the voice of that woman in my head, ‘You say “No, you don’t!”’ That’s the entire definition of Lisa’s character. Not completely, but we laugh [about it]. We have the same dilemma. We’re on this show that we’re … kind of on. Crew members say, ‘How long have you been on the show?’ ‘Uh, since the pilot.’ They really don’t know what we’re doing there.”

So in terms of the other stuff going on in your career, that’s going well, all the theater stuff?

“I’ve achieved everything I wanted to do. When I was growing up, I wanted to be Kevin Kline, Sam Waterston. I grew up watching the Public Theater and Shakespeare in the park and Marion Seldes. I mean, I may as well be gay.”

I’m not entirely sure you’re not.

[laughs] “But the thing is, I got it [i.e. his goals]. I’ve done 14 Broadway shows and got a Tony award, and now I’m making money and no one even really knows. I’m getting away with murder. If I come back to New York in two years and nothing’s changed, I’ll be thrilled. All I really want to do is [act in] plays, play with my dog, have kids. My desires are pretty simple. I don’t really want to do movies anymore. I’m pretty tired of camera acting.”

Why are you tired of camera acting? Is it the repetition of it?

“No, no, quite the opposite. We don’t rehearse enough. We do scenes where people barely know their lines, where people just about know their lines. In theater, you do it so many times and you get so familiar that then you can actually start having fun with it. And I really miss that feeling.

“It’s true of films too. I don’t know. I think I’m fine on film, but … I have walked offstage and thought, ‘Wow, no one has done that better. People may have done it as well, but not better.' I’ve actually had that feeling after ‘Long Day’s Journey Into Night,’ or a Shaw play or whatever. I’ve never felt that way with film. I always feel like, ‘Boy, Donald Sutherland would have done that a lot better.’ [laughs] I just don’t think it’s what I do best. I think I’m fine, but there are people who are eerily good at it. In all humility, of which I have none [laughs], that’s how I feel about my work on stage. I really do feel that I’m gifted at it.”

Just to change gears completely, what happens in the finale?

“Well, I think the finale is a bit of a cliffhanger. Something very exciting happens. It’s extremely exciting and freaky and I think it’s great. I can’t say what it is. You end this season very curious about how the next season is going to start. It’s a great final show and a big cliffhanger.”

So it seems like Hugh Laurie is so disparaging of his own talents. But he’s so good as House.

“Some people ask me, ‘Oh, why does Wilson want to hang out with House so much?’ and I’m like, ‘You idiot.’ [laughs] House is designed to be attractive! He’s brilliant, he’s self-deprecating, he has a limp. But yeah, Hugh hates himself and he’s very funny about it.  There’s no better combination in my book. Like Lewis Black.”

But as an acting partner, he’s good to work with?

“Oh yeah. The thing is, with this part, Hugh has a huge obstacle he has to deal with, having an American accent. His problem isn’t our problem. We as the audience don’t have that problem, because what he doesn’t know is that he does it perfectly. But of course he doesn’t hear that. That’s why he can’t watch the show.

“When you’re doing an accent, you don’t feel like you’re interesting in the role. Even if everyone around is telling you that you are. And to be in a play is one thing, but to be on TV show that runs for years, I don’t know how he’s going to do it. To be that hard on yourself and be that disappointed in your own work. But as I said, and underline this four times, he’s wrong.”

And then he obviously hates when anyone calls him a sex symbol. You read his quotes when people ask him about that stuff and you can feel the embarrassment rising off the page.

“Yeah, he hates that stuff. And even more than the ‘sexy’ stuff, he hates the ‘you’re brilliant’ stuff. Of course there’s a part of him that likes him, there’s a part of all of us that likes that. [But him being hard on his performance], it’s not false vanity.

“I think Hugh does work he’s proud of and does work he thinks is good, I’m just not sure it’ll ever be this [show]. Having an accent… acting is letting go and forgetting yourself, it’s the opposite of ego. It’s flying away and getting away from yourself and forgetting. And when you’re doing an accent, it’s virtually impossible to do that.

“It’s hard when you're in a play, doing the same lines, the same way for eight months. Hugh learns 72 new lines a day and has to put an American accent on them. It really is an actor’s nightmare. I’ve done [with accents] Brian Friel plays, Martin Sherman plays, Tom Stoppard plays, and maybe five months into it you have a night where you kind of feel OK and kind of forget the accent and let go and let the scene happen. To have a strange accent in your mouth while playing a role, and then be judged for it, that’s hard stuff.

“And can I tell you, when you have dinner with Hugh Laurie [speaking in his real accent]… I miss that voice.”

Yeah. He called me once directly for an interview. I was expecting the publicist to put him through, but it was just that voice on the phone. I was sort of thrown for a minute.

“As we know, I’m straight, but yeah, it’s like, homina homina homina.” [laughs]

---- [source (part 2)] | part 1 | part 3 ---

it took me two hours to track this interview down. it might be the longest one he's ever done. first i tracked it down to tumblr pages posting about it with no source please stop doing that. then i found a short youtube video of laurie saying "homina homina" on an snl skit i think and someone in the comments mentioned the site where the rsl interview was posted. however the site wouldn't let me in, i guess they took it down so i headed to archive dot org. i didn't have a specific link though so that didn't really work out either. then for nearly an hour i tried a wide range of word combinations on google until i stumbled upon a livejournal page of rpf hugh laurie/rsl fanfic. SOMEONE tysm karaokegal posted the exact link i was looking for in the comments. quick trip to the wayback machine and here you go!

i should be on those ethical hacking competition things

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Baby

❥Yandere Park Seonghwa x fem reader

SPOOKTOBER SPECIAL

➯a/n: this is a work of fiction and does NOT represent a healthy little and caregiver relationship, or a healthy relationship of any kind. this is messed up but i wanted to experiment with my writing and i think i succeeded. let me know what you think of this cause i would love love looooove to write more

✃ "You're my baby, say it to me." - Mitski, I Bet on Losing Dogs

✫彡wordcount: 4k

♡'･ᴗ･'♡(ಡ‸ಡ)genre: yandere, HEAVY angst

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: stockholm syndrome, mind breaking, spanking, mentions of bribery, mommy hwa (i cannot help myself)

⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

✩index: little space; a regressed state of mind where one feels like a child. hyung; a name for an older male friend or sibling, used by other males.

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

    "I'm home, sorry I'm late!" Seonghwa called out as he entered the apartment, looking around the empty rooms. "Baby?" He peeked into the kitchen, dinner untouched on the stove. "San?" The living room, the news channel on mute. "Mingi?" Both of his roommates rooms, desolate.

"No!" Your shout calls him to his room at the end of the hall, followed by a clanging and a yell of pain from his friend.

"Baby?! Baby!?" He turns into his room in a panic, eyes wide as he witnesses the scene infront of him.

You're curled up in a ball in the corner of his bed- head in your knees- with San holding Mingis arm as he curses under his breath, one of your bottles on the floor at their feet. "Hyung," He turns quickly and picks up the bottle, pointing it at you accusingly, "she threw this at Mingi!"

"Baby, why would you do that?" He takes the bottle from San and slowly kneels on the edge of the bed, reaching for you.

You say nothing, only whining and kicking his hand away. So he turns his attention back to the younger members. "What happened?" He wants to scream at them, really. How could they make his Baby cry when they know everything he went through and continues to go through to have you as his own? But that would only make you more upset. You don't like when he raises his voice, so he keeps it calm. "Is she hurt?"

"Hyung... We really didn't mean to, we tried to-" Mingi is almost in tears, he truly feels for you. But it's been months. If he could have helped he'd of found a way by now. But they need Seonghwa. And some of the members wouldn't even dream of turning him in- even after what he's done. For selfish reasons maybe. But it doesn't matter why or why not. You've been stuck in their apartments for half a year. They'd thought all of your deficiency had passed. That they could pretend it was okay.

"What happened, Baby?" He turns back to you, gently touching your knee.

That little touch seems to make you snap. Screaming obscenities in his face as you go on and on about how you are not, in fact, his baby. You aren't his at all. You want to go home. You don't love him. You don't like San. You don't like Mingi. You don't like any of the members, actually. You don't like living here. You wish you'd never even met him.

All three of them watch aghast, jaws dropped as you yell insult after insult at them. Hot in the face and tears streaming down like a waterfall so harshly that they wet the collar of your baby blue dress and pool as a drop on your chin. You grab the little plushie that Jongho made with you and hurl it at Seonghwas face, hitting him on the nose.

He watches it fall to the floor and his eyes don't seem to move after that. He's forced to listen as you insult his character directly now. He's a insane person. He's a pervert. He's sick in the head. He's annoyingly overbearing. You loathe his guts. You wouldn't spit on him if he were on fire. You'd shoot him twice if you were in a room with him and a hungry tiger with only two bullets. You loathe his entire being. You aren't his Baby. You aren't even his girlfriend. He's delusional.

The words ring around his head hauntingly. You can't possibly mean those things. He takes care of you so well. He gives you the world and all he asks for in return is your love. And he's gotten it. At least he thought he had. He woke up with you by his side and went back to bed the same way. You gave him kisses on the cheek. You let him play with all of your favorite toys that no one else can touch. You let him bathe you and dress you. You let him do everything.

"Do you hear me?" You scream, throwing his neatly fluffed pillow at his already lowered head. "I hate you!"

The world stops in that moment, the millisecond that word slips from your mouth.

    It's silent in the room. In the apartment. Not only could you hear a pin drop—

    You can hear the single tear fall from Seonghwas eye and collide with the hardwood.

Both of them look at him. You look at him. He looks at the floor. There's a visible shift in his aura. He goes from unreadable to pissed in the blink of an eye. His shoulders tense up and his breathing gets shallow.

He stands up, almost robotically. He picks up his pillow and dusts it off, placing in back on the bed where it belongs. His gaze doesn't even bother to meet yours as you watch him with wide, fearful eyes. He grabs the plushie and sets it down as well. "...Get up. Bend over, Baby."

"Hwa, wait, pl-"

"Before I get the paddle."

He doesn't say anything else, glaring down at you as you move tentatively. After an incident with an unlocked window and some sheets resulting in you being dragged to Hongjoongs room by the ear, you don't even want to see the paddle. You had to sit on their laps or a pillow for two weeks straight, if memory serves you right.

    He doesn't reach to move you faster. He stands at the edge of the bed, deadly silent. He only intervenes when you look to Mingi and San beggingly. "You're not allowed to look at them anymore."

That was a rule when you first arrived. You only got that privilege a few weeks ago. You figured it was probably to make you feel distance to the fact that these were people, who could potentially help you leave him, and not just disembodied voices and lower bodies. A way to make you feel even more lonely. Even when they were so close that you could here their breathing.

Like now, Mingi lets out a few small sniffles here and there. Sans breaths sounds anxious. Like if he moves an inch that he will be next on his Hyungs list.

As you bend your body over the edge, they avert their eyes. They may be complacent with Seonghwas actions, but they will never cross that line. They, all seven of the younger members, promised it. Never touch you. Never take advantage of you. Never directly help Seonghwa control you in any way. In fact, most of them decided it would be best to help you however possible, without ruining all of their lives in the process. Getting you small gifts that Seonghwa pre-approved. Stealing you away to the other dorms for a movie night. Sneaking you an extra sweet or episode of cartoons when you were deep in little-space.

But there was nothing they could do when Seonghwa told you to do something. To go to bed early. To let him wash your hair. To give him a kiss. To suck on his thumb. To bend over.

So they could only look away with heavy hearts as he flips up your skirt and rips -quite literally- your underwear away. The sound makes Mingi cringe, your crying pleas for him make him want to disappear forever. "Ming, please, don't let him! I'm sor-"

Seonghwa doesn't even start easy on you, he smacks your bottom harshly, over and over again until your cheek is sore and aching all the way through to your hip. And then, for the briefest moment, you all think it's over when the loud echo of the smacks finally ceases. But that was only him moving to get a better angle on your other side.

    You cry loudly, and the sound officially makes Mingi cry. He lowers his head and turns his body away completely to try and distance himself from the abuse. San gently takes ahold of his pink in his own. It does little to comfort either of them, but it reminds them both of the pact that they made.

     All of their pinkies interlocked, a promise that they would do their best for their obviously challenged Hyung.

        Both of your cheeks bruising and hot to the touch, Seonghwa finally backs up. He moves his knees from their place on either side of you and lets you crumble to the floor in a pile of sobs. He stops briefly to pull your skirt over you half-hazardly before leaving you completely alone as you blubber into your arms.

     His palm is red, as angry as he was. He takes a deep breath as he takes a pump of lotion, rubbing it into his hands as he turns to the other men.

      "Tell me what happened."

    Mingi wipes his face roughly, straightening up as San speaks lowly, "we turned on the TV. We were going to watch a movie, but... but she saw it on the news before we could even change it."

    "What did she see?"

   "Her missing persons photo..."

✿

The door was locked behind them and there was no noise in the apartment. If you hadn't known better, you'd say they all left. But Seonghwa refused to ever leave you alone. Even when all of the members were busy. You either went with them or had a staff member watching you, one who'd coincidentally received a raise moments before.

You stayed right there on the floor for the longest time, sobbing and snotting all over the floor as you tried to calm yourself.

Oh, you really outdid yourself this time.

Even at his angriest, Seonghwa never left your side when there was a tear in your eye.

You knew he had no tolerance for that word. Hate. Ironically, you could say he hated it. Especially when it came out of your lips. You once said you hated the show he put on. He gave you a fourty minute lecture and three smacks to the behind.

And you just aimed it right at him. You meant to make him angry. And you succeeded.

Now, into the night, when he still hasn't returned, you start to wonder wether you snapped his last string of humanity. If he hated you just as much as you claimed you hated him. If he's out in the kitchen planning how to get rid of you.

Your body aches as you sit up, screaming at you as you crawl into the small pink tent in the corner of the room. It's placed on top of soft play mats and filled with baby-ish things that he insisted you needed every time he saw them. The softest blankets. The cutesy, most hug-able plushies. A small box of your favorite pacifiers and toys.

You untie the ribbon keeping the sheer fabric open and let it drape closed, as if it will shield you. Perhaps, in your fragile mind, it will. He never comes in here, only ever reaches in to grab the blankets to wash every other week.

You let yourself flop onto your side into the pile and find yourself sobbing all over again. Maybe, just maybe, in a fucked up, delusional way... Seonghwa does care for you. Maybe, just maybe, in his mind, he does all of these things because he believes it best for you.

You can still see Seonghwa in his room when he's not there. Maybe that's why you hate being cooped up in here. Always begging members to let you hang out in their rooms instead.

It's so neat. Even after the chaos of earlier. So color coordinated. Grey and white and warm lights.

You're the only exception. Toys and clothes and books strewn about in your little corner, just out of sight of his cam-corder.

   Maybe that's why you get so mad when you slip out of the little space he's built for you. You know you don't fit into his life seamlessly. You know the truth of your situation. So you may as well start making the best of it.

    With a groan of effort, you sit back up.

✿

   It's well past midnight when he turns the lock on the outside of his door. Which also means its well past your bedtime. You've become so well accustomed to it over your time together, he figures you've probably fallen asleep.  

       And he's right. He immediately spots you on his side do the bed, holding his pillow tight to your chest with your swollen eyes closed.

    A pant of regret hits him right where it hurts as he realizes just how much he made you cry. How much he made you hurt. His anger got the best of him, and it hurts his heart that deep down, he knows it won't be the last time.

     He's done it to everyone. His family. His members. Himself...

    His darkest thoughts reach out in the corners of his mind, saying that his Baby is better of without him. But he is quick to slap them away as he tip toes into the room.

    Somethings off, somethings different. Everything is in place.

    All of your toys and coloring books and short stories. All of your pacifiers and stuffed animals. They're on the shelf exactly how he puts them during his Sunday reset cleanings. All of your favorites are on the wall, your side of the bed. The multitude of blankets and throw pillows in your tent are folded and organized neatly. Your tears and snot have been wiped up. Your ripped panties in the bin.

    "Oh, my Baby," he whispers, immediately crawling into bed behind you and holding your back close to his chest, careful to avoid your bottom. He doesn't even want to fathom what he did to you... "My Baby..."

      He can't help but cry, though he tries to do so silently. He wants you to rest, you need it. But the smallest movement of the bed wakes you in your fragile state.

    When you stir, he expects you to crawl away. But you don't. Instead, you roll over to face him and shimmy into his arms. "Hey, sweet girl," he coos hoarsely.

     You were right, earlier. You weren't left alone in the apartment. San was sitting in the living room comforting Mingi as Seonghwa stormed off and went upstairs to Hongjoong. While they sat in silence, he screamed and screamed and screamed until he couldn't breathe.

     Eventually, Hongjoong and Yunho got him to calm down, and they talked and talked and talked. Yunho suggested, lightly, that you should stay the night with them. And then Seonghwa screamed some more.

     In all this time, your nighttime routine had never been interrupted. He had a very specific way the two of you did things before bed and he would have it no other way. In all this time, he's never let you out of his arms as he slept. Even that first night, you kicked and screamed and punched until you passed out. But you did so in his arms.

    "Mommy." It's a simple acknowledgment, but it calms him ever so slightly. He takes pride in that name. And it makes him happy you can still call him that after what he's done to you.

     "Are you okay, Baby?" He knows that the answer is no. But he'll give you the opportunity to speak for yourself. To tell him how to help.

     "Hurts," you sniffle as you press your face into his chest, " 'm hungry..."

     "Come on, Sweetpea, I'll take care of you."

    You koala hug onto him, arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he stands.

    And the nighttime routine starts now, a pattern of familiarity to calm both of your shot nerves.

    He gently sets you in your seat at the table, but not before pacing down a pillow he grabbed while passing the couch. It still burns even with the soft cushioning below you.

You eat in silence. Usually you would speak about your days, and the next one's plans. But there doesn't seem to be any words that either of you can find at the moment.

He rinses the dishes before picking you back up. No matter how many times you insist you can walk- he insists right back that his Baby must be carried. You pass Mingi on the way to the bathroom, and he gives you a small wave, his eyes bloodshot and his posture slumped. But he can't help the small smile that tugs at his lips as you wave back over Seonghwas shoulder.

The pillow goes down on the counter before you, and he starts your meticulous skin care. Your face wash, then his. Your toner, then his. Moisturizer, eye cream, spot treatment, the list goes on until your both brushing your teeth.

You will admit Seonghwa takes exceptionally good care of not only himself, but you as well.

He likes to massage your face after all is said and done. He says it's good for blood flow, which is true. But he does it for a few simpler reasons.

Your face in his hands. And a chance to admire you at the end of the day.

No matter how rough of a day it was. He could always count on this.

He cups your cheeks as he stands between your legs, massaging them gently. "My Baby." He whispers. So quiet you actually miss it. You're too busy melting into his affection. "You're my Baby." He speaks, however lowly.

"Mhm," you moan quietly, blinking up at him, not knowing what exactly he's meaning.

"Say it to me," he says. He pleads. His forehead rests on yours. Eyes growing wet as he uses your eyes as a window into your soul. "Please."

"I'm your baby," you whisper just as gently as he. Nodding against his head lightly. "I'm your baby, Mommy."

He nearly collapses as his shoulders finally relax. His mind flooding with happiness as he hears those words. You're all he's ever wanted. You're all he feels he truly has.

He knew it since the moment he saw you. So delicate, so beautiful and kind. He was overcome with an urge that he can only describe as a mix of pure love and anxiety. He loves you so deeply, how can he ever rest if he doesn't know for certain that your safe and taken care of? So he took matters into his own hands.

He's never felt it before. He knows he'll never feel it again. He will never. Never. Love someone as much as you. As much as his Baby.

You reach up and wipe his tears gently, the tiniest of smiles playing at your lips, "you gonna wash away all the stuff you jus' put on."

He can't help the chuckle that leaves him, leaning into your touch as it leaves a tingle on his skin, "you're right, Baby."

He gently, oh so gently, places a kiss on your lips before your routine resumes.

He leaves you to do your business as he goes to the living room and gathers your pajamas, and when he comes back he finds you all done, rubbing your bottom with a pout. "Oh, Baby, I'm so sorry! I forgot, it must have hurt on the toilet," a pout of his own forms as he crouches and rummages through the cabinet.

"Yeahm," you whine, watching him closely as he grabs a tube.

"Bend over, Baby." That simply sentence almost has you spiraling again before he reaches and rubs your head ever so gently. "It's okay, it's okay. It's numbing cream. Let Mommy put on you and it'll feel better, promise."

You hesitantly bend over the counter slightly, and are relieved to find he's telling the truth. He's barely touching your behind enough spread the cream, his touch is so light. But he manages to apply the treatment without causing you any more harm.

You know that this will be part of your nightly routine again when he sets the tube down with the rest of his products. It mocks you as you look at it. Knowing you'll have to hear those words over and over again until you're healed.

He helps you rid your dress and redresses you in one of his t-shirts before changing into his own pajamas.

As he carries you back to bed, you speak up while fiddling with the buttons on his shirt, "Mommy?"

"Yes, Baby?"

"Can sleep in my tent tonigh'?"

"Oh, Baby, you know I have to hold you to fall asleep. Baby can have a nap in there tomorrow, how about that?"

"No, Mommy too," you look to him with a pout as he closes the bedroom door behind you, "Mommy in the tent." You point to it as if he doesn't know what tent you're referring to, and it makes him laugh how adorable you are when you're so deep in little-space.

"Okay, Baby," he sets you down first and lets you crawl in, watching you with stars in his eyes as you curl up under the blankets and move to make room for him.

His feet poke out of the side even as he's curled spooning you, and he knows the sight is probably ridiculous. But it's very possibly the coziest he's been with you. The tent and the plushies inside of it smell like you. All of the soft blankets have accumulated into a weighted blanket of sorts and keeps you both warm in the cold October air. His chest pressed to your back and your numbed bottom snuggling back into his hips. Your soft, calm breaths luring him into a state of tranquility. He stays just like that, for a long time, it feels like. It almost feels like he's meditating. His soul being cleansed. He can see why you like it here-

Oh. Oh, he's really in here.

It dawns on him as he looks up. What is usually a white ceiling is a pink fabric just a few inches away from his face.

You invited him in.

Ever since he set it up three months ago, you made a strict 'BABY ONLY' policy. And you stuck to that. Not even Jongho, who was admittedly your favorite of his members, was allowed in. They were all confined to the play mat just outside.

But not anymore.

He thought after the pain he had caused, after the outside world had reminded you what he'd done, that your progress would be set back. That he'd back back to square one with a brat. But, you went ahead and proved him opposite.

You proved him that you are and will continue to be,

His Baby.

✿

[shellbilee]

Hey There Darlin' - Chapter 4

A Glen Powell RPF Series

Comment if you'd like to be tagged! x

Glen feels like he's buzzing.

Like the kind of buzzing you feel when you've had one too many cups of coffee, or a hit of pre workout just before a big gym session.

Except this time, he knows it has nothing to do with caffeine.

It's Billie.

He’s known her for less than twenty-four hours, but already he feels like he can’t get enough of her. Of her voice, her eyes, her lips, of her smile. Her fucking gorgeous smile.

Glen looks over when he sees a black Ford pick up pulling up a few spaces away, his eyes widening in surprise when he sees Billie step out of the car. He sucks in a breath as he looks her over, feeling his muscles clench as his eyes run over her body. Her thick legs, her round ass, her toned abdomen peeking out from beneath the cropped shirt she’s wearing. It’s enough to send him spinning.

Fuck.

He looks back at his reflection in his rearview mirror, running his fingers through his hair and putting his cap back on. He bares his teeth, checking for any missed pieces of food, before letting out a heavy breath and getting out of his car.

“Billie!”

Glen sees her look up at his call, a happy smile parting her lips when she sees him. He jogs the short distance over to her, watching as she puts her phone away and reaches up to shield her face from the afternoon sun. 

“Nice wheels” he says, gesturing to her pick up behind her, Billie’s smile widening.

“Thanks. I like yours too”.

Glen grins, glancing back over at his own Chevy Silverado, his big silver truck standing out like a shining beacon in the Ikea parking lot.

“Can I ask you a question?” Billie asks as they start walking towards the entrance, Glen watching the way her long ponytail bobs as she walks. 

The colour reminds him of roasted espresso beans, with ribbons of warm chocolate rippling through.

“Shoot”.

“It must be really hard for you to just, go out shopping? I mean everywhere you go, you kind of risk being stampeded by fans” Billie says, looking at the building entrance and back at Glen, “It didn’t even occur to me what this might be like for you, and now I feel a bit stupid that I asked you to come along. To Ikea of all places”.

Glen laughs and shakes his head. “Billie, I’d have said yes to anything you said if it meant that I got to spend more time with you”.

Glen loves the way her smile grows then, the soft blush that creeps into her golden skin from his words.

She has no idea how fucking gorgeous she is.

“But to answer your question, yes, it can be hard. It’s not something I really thought about though, at least until Top Gun. That kind of changed everything”.

Billie laughs, and Glen immediately decides that her laugh is one of his new favourite sounds.

“I mean, not to go all fan girl on you, but I can see why that happened. You were pretty memorable in that movie” Billie says, offering a soft, sheepish smile and pulling her ponytail forward so that it tumbles down her shoulder.

“Yeah, as the asshole character” Glen replies, teasing another chuckle from Billie that makes his stomach flip.

“Well you did sort of save the day at the end, so perhaps that’s more the reason?” Billie reasons, her shoulders lifting in an adorable shrug, “Or you know, there’s the whole beach scene too, you were kind of gorg---, I mean, hard to forget in that”.

Glen turns to Billie with a raised eyebrow, willing her to continue talking. Instead he sees her mash her lips together, her eyes squeezing shut and her brow furrowing for a moment. She looks up at Glen a second later, her eyes big and beautiful, flashing with what Glen can only describe as embarrassment. 

“I’m going to shut up now, because I’ve said too much and I’m making an idiot of myself”.

Glen drops his head back and laughs, clapping his hands together.

“You know, I’d be quite happy to recreate that scene for you if you really wanted to see it again. Private screening, just for you”

Billie laughs and shoves him playfully. 

“You’re trouble, you know that?”

Glen doesn’t answer, instead flashing Billie his most charming grin.

“Alright so tell me, what kind of couch are we looking for?” Glen asks when they reach the entrance, cold, air-conditioned air blasting them as they walk through, “How many seats? Fold out? Material? Where is it going in your house?”

Billie bites her bottom lip again, and Glen has to put his hands on his hips to stop himself from grabbing her face and kissing her.

“I can’t answer any of those questions except that it’s going in my living room” Billie says, lifting her hands up in an I-don't-know-gesture’, the two walking through to the first of the showrooms.

“Okay so do you have any ideas of what you’re after then?” he asks, pausing when Billie leans over to run her hand over a navy throw blanket.

“A colour that Nugget’s fur won’t be so noticeable on. That’s about it so far”.

Glen laughs. 

“Okay so no dark colours then” he says as they browse the concept bedroom, the theme an earthy mix of whites, browns and deep greens. 

They move onto the next room - another bedroom, this one decorated in an urban, industrial theme. It’s all exposed brick walls and black fixtures, the bed linen a tangle of moody greys and dark navy. It reminds Glen of his own style at home, making him think of the dark charcoal sheets that are currently on his bed.

Sheets, he thinks, that would look great under Billie’s naked body.

Fuck.

His mind wanders for the tenth time since he’s been here, looking over to find Billie bending over to pick up and inspect a large terracotta coloured cushion. All of a sudden, his eyes are glued to her ass, her round, peachy ass in her bright blue, skin tight shorts. 

He imagines it in just a pair of panties and nothing else, a deep wine colour, a tiny, lace and silk number that covers next to nothing. He imagines her bent over in front of him, a cheek in each of his hands, her skin soft and buttery smooth as he kneads her supple flesh.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Glen exhales deeply, squeezing his eyes shut and forcing himself to get his thoughts in check. He looks up a moment later to see Billie taking a photo of the tag on the cushion she's holding, before dropping it back onto the bed and making her way into the next room.

“Maybe suede?” Billie asks, running her hand over the back of a grey suede loveseat she's just stopped in front of, Glen following close behind. 

“Probably not the best for fur though” Glen counters, Billie nodding in agreement and leaning her hip against the couch as she looks around the new room.

Glen hears laughter up ahead and he turns to see a group of girls walking towards the room they're in. There's four of them, all eighteen or so, laughing and chatting away at each other as they walk. 

He exhales heavily through his nose. Young girls were always tough to deal with when he was out - they made the most noise. They also posted everything on social media. 

The last thing he wants is fan attention when he's out with Billie, or worse, paparazzi following him in Ikea of all places. He knows from past experience it’s one of the quickest ways to freak out a girl he likes, particularly one that isn’t in the spotlight like Billie. 

He has a split second to make a decision. 

And so, he does.

“I think I like grey or ta--”

Billie’s words are abruptly cut short when Glen grabs her hand, pulling her into a nearby alcove behind the bedroom's wardrobe.

“Are we hiding?” Billie whispers after a moment, confusion evident on her face as she looks up at Glen in front of her.

He nods.

For a second he can’t think of anything except Billie, about how fucking gorgeous she is, about how right at this current moment she’s pressed up against him against a wardrobe, her fingers still wrapped in his.

Billie frowns, an amused, but confused expression on her face, Glen watching as she leans back to poke her head out of the alcove.

Glen sees her face transform with understanding when she sees what Glen is hiding from, the sound of the girls laughing and talking now evident inside the room. She leans back in towards Glen, a soft smile on her face, and it takes everything Glen has not to lean in and kiss her right there and then.

They both still when they hear the voices come closer, Glen's grip on Billie's hand tightening. He feels a momentary sting of alarm, all manner of potential scenarios now playing out in his head.

His chest tightens as he sucks in a deep breath, panic suddenly taking over his brain.

Fuck. Here we go.

He hears footsteps walk into the alcove and Glen isn't sure what to do, his thoughts immediately silenced when Billie reaches for his jaw and pulls his mouth to hers.

Oh, Billie.

In an instant every part of him relaxes, concerns from just a moment ago seemingly forgotten. Her lips are soft against his, moving against his in a tender kiss, her free hand cupping his jaw and holding his face to hers. He releases her other hand and searches for her waist, his fingers finding the bare skin beneath her short shirt and gripping at her warm flesh.

She's everywhere, all at once, the sweet taste of her mouth, the softness of her lips, the intoxicating scent of her skin, every single one of his senses suddenly drowning in her. Glen's heart races in his chest, his brain unable to think of anything else except Billie.

He hears the awkward stammering of the intruding girl, but it's barely audible above his heart beat in his ears. Just when Glen thinks he could die right here and now, Billie breaks away and turns her head, her hand still holding his face to her neck. He realises she’s shielding him, hiding his face from the unknown girl, his chest all but heaving as his mouth hangs less than an inch from her neck.

“Oh um, sorry” Billie says with a mischievous exaggerated giggle, the other girl muttering her own apology.

Glen barely listens as the girl backs away out of the alcove, unable to concentrate on anything except Billie's neck. He breathes in her scent, delicious and warm, forcing himself to stay still. It takes everything he has not to close that one inch gap and press his lips to Billie’s throat, every single fibre in his body screaming at him to drag his tongue along her skin.

Some part of him hears the girl return to her friends, the group giggling and quickly scurrying out of the showroom moments later. Reluctantly he pulls away when Billie releases his face, a heavy breath leaving his mouth as he does. Billie looks back at him with bright, wide eyes, Glen hyper aware that her chest is still pressed to his and his fingers are still gripping the warm skin of her waist. His thoughts are all but blank, except for how much he wants to do that all over again. 

He's buzzing again, stronger now, the feel of Billie's lips against his seemingly burnt into his brain. He drops his head back against the wall behind him and looks down at her with an incredulous smile, words struggling to form in his mind.

“Th---that was---”.

“Some quick thinking?” Billie interrupts, finishing his sentence for him and flashing a gentle grin.

He opens his mouth to speak but no words come out, Billie laughing and grabbing his hand from her waist. He says nothing as she wraps her fingers in his and steps away from him, pulling on his hand so that his body peels away from the wall and follows her back out into the bedroom.

“C'mon you, we've gotta find me a couch”.

---

Billie

“Are you sure you’re okay with those? I can carry one if you need”.

Glen looks down at her and shakes his head, two furniture flat packs nestled firmly under each of his arms. Billie forces herself to keep her eyes trained on his face, fighting the urge to stare at his thick biceps.

“No need darlin’, I got this”.

Billie exhales silently. 

How is his voice so damn attractive?

How does he make that ONE WORD sound so damn attractive?

How is ALL of him so damn attractive?

She swallows thickly.

She still can’t believe how bold she’d been earlier, still not quite believing that she’d kissed Glen. It was a split second idea that needed a split second decision. And she’d done it without a second thought.

She’d kissed Glen Powell.

The look on his face when she’d pulled away had made it all worth it though, and it had taken everything she had not to lean back in and kiss him up against the wall of the Ikea wardrobe. 

God.

To say she was attracted to him was an understatement, now even more so if that was even possible. To his gorgeous green eyes, his devastatingly sexy smile, his broad, muscled chest. If she were a cartoon, she was pretty certain she’d be drawn with permanent heart shaped eyes every time she looked at him. 

Billie pulls out her keys when they reach her car, unlocking the tailgate and stepping back to allow Glen to unload the flat packs into her tray. 

After much searching she’d ended up finding a couch she liked - an ‘L’ shaped three seater with a chaise extension, in a rich caramel coloured leather. There hadn’t been any left in stock though, so she’d instead ordered it, with delivery expected early next week.

She’d also found a new wooden end table and a small oak bookshelf that she loved, both of which Glen was currently hauling into her car.

Billie opens the front door of her pick up and throws the bag of assorted cream and grey cushions she'd also bought onto the passenger seat, closing the door and turning around in time to see Glen shutting her tailgate. He reaches up to readjust his hat, his sandy blonde hair peaking out from beneath it, an effortlessly handsome smile on his chiselled face. 

Billie wonders idly if he has any idea of the effect he has on her. Or on women in general for that matter.

“So I know we’ve spent the better part of the afternoon together, and at the risk of sounding needy, can I ask what you’re doing for dinner?”.

Billie can’t help the smile that tugs at her lips then, her face falling a second later when she remembers she actually does have plans.

“I've actually got a dinner to go to, a house-warming barbecue up in the hills”.

She feels her heart fall when his face drops, and in an instant she wishes she hadn't RSVP'd to her Saturday night plans.

“My boss just bought a new place” Billie explains looking down at her hands and then back up at Glen again, “but---, I’m free all day tomorrow?”.

His face instantly lights up at her words and suddenly her heart is soaring again, his gorgeous grin returning.

“It’s a date”.

Billie laughs and tilts her head, raising an eyebrow. “Does that mean today counts as our first date then?”.

Glen shrugs adorably. “That depends”.

“On?”

“Whether or not you liked it. If you didn’t, then no, it doesn’t count and tomorrow can be our real first date”.

Billie laughs out loud, shaking her head so that her ponytail swishes along her shoulder.

“I like unconventional dates” she says lifting up her hands in a shrug, “There isn’t so much pressure”.

Glen nods in agreement.

“Unconventional” he says repeating her word as if he’s thinking of ideas, his grin suddenly growing even wider.

Billie laughs again, but she can't help the frown that suddenly bends her brow.

“All of a sudden I’m scared to ask about what you’ve now got planned for tomorrow”.

Glen winks conspiratorially. 

“I’ll message you with the time”.

“Can I at least have a hint?”

Glen shakes his head.  

“Nope” he says, making the ‘p’ sound pop, “You said you like surprises”.

Bille laughs and rolls her eyes, immediately cursing herself for telling him that earlier.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” Glen says, pushing himself off her car and stepping towards her.

Billie only nods, a school-girl smile threatening to split her face.

She sucks in a breath when he leans in towards her, his lips grazing her cheek with a gentle kiss. She closes her eyes momentarily, opening them back up when he steps away, seeing him look down at her with a smile that makes her knees weak.

“Have a good night Billie”

Billie lets out a shaky, silent breath and smiles.

“You too Glen”.

He winks at her and suddenly Billie seriously considers cancelling her dinner plans, watching as he walks off towards his truck. He turns to look back at her when he reaches his car, that same damn gorgeous smile etched on his face as he waves at her. She stays frozen by her car, her mind reeling as she mentally goes over the afternoon she's just had, reaching up to wave back at him.

Moments later he's in his truck and driving away, leaving Billie standing alone in the Ikea parking lot with nothing but a stomach full of nerves and a mind full of excitement for tomorrow.

---

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[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire: The Epilogue

biker!Eddie x artist!Reader

biker!Steve x Astrid (fem!OC)

masterlist playlist

wc: 14.6k

18+ONLY as always, adult themes, allusions to smut, backyard union/wedding, violence, auto theft, hustling, fist fight, mention of blood, mention of guns and shooting, relationship issues, Eddie is a cat dad, tw: Charlene, alcohol consumption, healing, lots of love.

Summary: If you're one of my ride or dies who have read this far, you know what to expect, but I do mention pregnancy and kids more than a few times, for good reason. We get to check in with what the gang has been up to, and how the families have grown. A little bit of drama, of course, and Coffin Kings mayhem. For the sake of this story, the character Bones is meant to be Tom Hardy from the yet to be released movie The Bikeriders.

A/N: This is reallyyy more of another chapter more and an Epilogue, lmaoo. I love all of these characters so much that I keep wanting to spin off in different directions and write a bunch of niche stories; I can see myself living in this world for a long while. I know I say it all the time, but my IoF readers mean so much to me, and I really hope you enjoy this. Please see a second author's note at the end.

--------

Highway 22 had once been the only main road out of town, but since the freeway came to Hawkins in the 60’s, very few ever took the country road lined with cornfields and alfalfa crops.  There were several homesteads scattered about, mostly farmers, and all of them spaced out by several acres; but for the home of the Whittiers—Bob and Helen—who just happened to live across the street from the place once owned by the Fergusons.

The first time they heard the rumble of motorcycles approaching, Helen screamed through the living room that it must be an airplane flying too low, about to crash into them.  She nudged Bob awake from his nap in the recliner and then ran out onto the porch, wringing her hands.

What she found was a motorcycle gang, clad in leather and covered in tattoos, crawling twenty deep into the driveway of their newest neighbors.

It was rare for Eddie to invite the entire local Coffin Kings MC and a few of the Hells Belles over, but the ceremony for Steve and Astrid’s union was an exception.  She was 8 months pregnant with the twins at the time, bursting at the seams, but Steve had this bug up his ass that he needed them to be official before the babies came, and Bones was happy to officiate.

Under an arbor in the neatly manicured lawn of your front yard, flanked in willow trees and cherry blossoms, Robin stood as Steve’s best man, and pretended like she’d lost the ring during the ceremony when he asked for it.  The panic in his face made everyone in attendance snicker when she pulled it from the tiny pocket of her vest with a wink.  Steve wore black suit pants with a collared white shirt, rolled up to the elbows, under his Coffin Kings leather.  Astrid looked stunning in a hunter green, off-the-shoulder dress with a few pieces of simple, gold jewelry, and a baby’s breath flower crown in her hair. 

Astrid didn’t need a ring, or any traditional symbols, and the material stuff meant nothing to her, but Steve insisted.  He took the extra step of getting her name tattooed on his ring finger, which made her roll her eyes and fall more in love with him all at once.  

You stood at Astrid’s side, making eyes at your boyfriend Eddie who was extremely handsome in his leather and a suit in the front row.  You were still reeling at the idea that this was your life, as fear kept trying to creep in and tell you it was all a dream, or that something would happen at any second to take it all away at any moment.  

You’d barely had the keys to the farmhouse for two months before the wedding, and so things were still stacked in boxes on the main floor, and the plumbing was a mess, but every morning, Eddie kissed you goodbye before work, and then you padded over in bare feet to the empty space with south facing windows that would soon be your studio. 

Wayne gave Astrid away, and there were tears streaming down Steve’s cheeks.  Once the official “I do’s” were said, everyone, including the bikers and their families in attendance, started to hoot and whistle for the kiss.  Steve held her face in his hands, and it was deep and sweet and made the obnoxious howling from the crowd melt into a collective swoon before erupting in applause.

Eddie’s heart swelled with love, not only for his friends who were finally getting the happy ending they deserved, but for you, and the promise of the life you were building together.  Neither one of you held the matrimonial traditions of society in high regard and didn’t need a piece of paper to prove that you were devoted to each other, but right then, watching you stand with Astrid, he thought about dropping to one knee and begging you to be his wife.

Neither one of you had a family history of marriage keeping people together, in fact, it had mostly only succeeded in fucking everything up.  In his heart, it was till death do you part, and that was all that mattered.  In fact, he planned on finding you in the afterlife as well.

Steve had Oliver on his shoulders while they cut the cake, but what everyone didn’t know was that Astrid was fighting some stomach cramping.  She figured it was the two babies kicking from all of the excitement, but the second the music started for the reception, her water broke.  

“This can’t be happening right now,” Steve was flabbergasted, holding up his wife so that she didn’t sink to the ground.  “They’re not due for another month?”

“Oh it’s happening,” Astrid gushed, framing her belly with her hands. “They are coming.”

“Take my car,” Katie offered, digging around in her purse for her keys.  The driveway was full of vehicles, pinning in Astrid’s truck, but Katie’s car was further out, near the highway.  

“We’ll be right behind you,” Eddie shouted, reaching for your hand.

Dustin was the voice of reason, stepping in front of him while the others headed for the vehicle.

“She could be in labor for hours, and you’ve got guests,” Henderson reminded his friend.  He was there with his wife Suzie and their daughter Stevie. “I say stay here, man.  Robin can call you from the hospital with an update.”

For a second, it had slipped both of your minds that you even had guests; approximately 87 of them.  

The big speakers Eddie had hooked up to a sound system were playing Hold onto Me by Cowboy Junkies, and the two of you turned to stare at each other, wondering what to do.  

“Dustin’s right,” you looked around, eyes settling on your ex-coworker Jeff who was drinking red wine straight from the bottle. “I don’t want anyone to puke in our bedroom or something.”

Suzie handed you a glass of champagne, ring finger heavy with a Princess cut diamond.  “I promise you, those babies probably won’t poke their heads out until morning.”

You just hoped nothing went wrong, since Astrid confided in you that labor had been notoriously hard on the women in her family; there had even been a few mothers who didn’t make it.  What if they needed to do an emergency C-section? What if one of them started to come out sideways?  

You were about to take a sip of the sweet bubbles when you saw Steve jogging back in your direction.

“Katie’s car is dead,” he huffed, headed for the back patio where his Harley was parked.

Craning your neck down the long row of cars, you saw Astrid sitting on the front bumper of the dark blue sedan with Oliver holding onto her arm while Robin and Katie appeared to be having an argument.  You were sure it was nothing personal, but tensions were high.

“Hold tight, let me grab the jumper cables,” Eddie jogged alongside Steve, aiming for the garage.

“Nah, it’ll take too long, we need to get out of here,” Steve was throwing a leg over his bike and revving the engine before Eddie could offer another suggestion.

You ran up beside Eddie. “He’s driving her to the hospital on that?”

“It appears that way,” Eddie stepped back so that Steve could roll by the two of you, fishtailing through the lawn before jumping a rock bed and weaving between the vehicles to pick up Astrid.

A lot of pregnant women might have hesitated to go by motorcycle, but Astrid did not.  She didn’t hesitate to get on behind him, knowing that the sooner they got to the hospital, the less likely things would go wrong.  Making room for her ample stomach took a moment of adjusting, but she strapped her helmet on before tapping his shoulder to let him know she was ready.

“You’re insane!” Robin shouted at him, and then she covered her face in frustration.  

Bones, Devlin, Van, Ratchet, and a few others went along as escorts, clearing the highway with their own bikes so that Steve could have the road. 

Across the street, Helen was on her porch with a pair of binoculars.  “Bob? Where are they taking that pregnant woman?”

Bob was in the living room with the TV on, and he pretended not to hear her.  

“The music is loud enough,” she scoffed.  “The whole thing better quiet down by 10 or I’m calling the police.”

If so, that wouldn’t be the first time she’d called the cops about her across-the-way neighbors.  The first time was during the week they’d moved in, and a couple of the Kings came over to help unload furniture.  Helen reported that there was a gang breaking into the Ferguson place to steal things.

“Let me get this straight,” Hopper twirled a pencil between two fingers while he spoke into the phone.  “They’re stealing things by putting them back inside the house?”

He very politely talked her down from a ledge, and then drove by on the highway to give her a wave so that she felt safe.  

The Velvet Hammer was closed the day of the wedding, as most of the employees were guests.  But the next day, Shana opened up the bar at 10, harboring one of the worst hangovers of her adult life.  

The shrill ringing of the phone made it feel like a buzzsaw was cutting through her skull, and Jackie leaned over the bar counter to snatch the receiver.

It was you, letting them know that Astrid had given birth to two healthy baby girls named Gracie and Rue early that morning, and that labor had been horrific, but their mother was on the mend.

Poor Steve.  When the doctor came out and said there were “complications”, he nearly tore down the wall trying to get in there to his wife.  The first baby, Rue, started to come out feet first, and he had this terrifying thought of the umbilical cord getting stuck around her neck or something, but once they got her turned around, the rest went smoothly.  He did the best he could to coach her through the breathing techniques they’d learned in the Lamaze classes, but at one point, she politely, yet abruptly, asked him to shut up.  

Not even three months later, Astrid was pregnant again.

They were certain that the procreation of the twins had been a fluke, a miracle; something that would only happen once in their lifetime.  

But they’d been gravely mistaken.  

They’d just transported the whole family to the ranch style home Astrid had inherited from her grandmother.  Everyone had their own room, including another living area in the basement, and a vintage Landshark Airstream trailer in the back yard where Steve and Astrid slept when they needed alone time.  It was the communal living, and the constant support from Robin and Katie, that kept them from mental collapse when they found out there was another baby on the way.

“What is wrong with you?” Eddie chuckled at Steve when he gave the two of you the news one morning over coffee at your kitchen table. “Couldn’t keep it in your pants for a few weeks?”

“I told you,” Steve shrugged.  “I have a magic dick.”

At that, you and Eddie shared an affectionate eye roll.  All joking aside, Steve was ecstatic about the news, bouncing on the balls of his feet everywhere he went at the idea of having a fourth child.  Astrid, on the other hand, was trying not to have a panic attack as she breastfed two infants at once.  If it happened to be another set of twins, she said she’d have to give one to you and Eddie.

You were testing paint swatches on the wall when Eddie snuck up from behind on the hardwood floor and put his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your hair.  He had on a pair of his “holiest” jeans that were so ripped and worn, they were about to be shorts, along with his Slayer shirt that now had wide, cut out arm holes, exposing his ribs.  

“Which one do you like more?” You asked, slipping your arms over his.

He hummed, kissing your earlobe.  “They all look yellow to me.”

“Close, but one is Summer Sunset, one is Lemon Cream, and one is—-”

“What about black?” He asked in all seriousness.  “Or gray?”

“Or we could just keep all of the wallpaper as it is,” you giggled at the tickle of his beard scruff on your neck.

The country rose wallpaper was lovely, but heavy pink floral themes in every room was a bit much for both of you.  “You’re right, I love Lemon Yogurt or whatever.”

“I figured as much,” You turned to search his face.  He’d been growing his bangs out, so they were just long enough to tuck behind his ears.  “How does tofu curry sound for tonight?”

Your lips met, and you could taste that familiar mix of wintermint and Camel Lights that you’d come to love.  He’d cut back to only a couple smokes a day, but he went through a pack of gum in an hour.  

“Mhhmm tofu,” he closed his eyes dreamily. “Is there meat in that?”

Just before the twins turned one, you and Eddie had your first big fight.  

Big enough that you threw some clothes in a bag and said you were going to stay with Katie and Robin right before you slammed the door so hard, a vase full of daisies he’d bought for you crashed to the ground and shattered.  

It was over something so stupid, really. The way he left hair in the sink after he shaved bugged the shit out of you, and when you rolled as far away as you could from him in bed, he took it personally.  You’d felt restless and out of your mind that week, and then you started your car to realize the gas tank was empty, even though he said he’d fill it up.  You promised Eddie you’d have some quality time with him one night, but then Steve needed you at the Hammer and…all of these things started to pile up until the dam burst.

You sat in your car with the engine on for a while, swallowing back hot gasps, unable to pull the trigger and drive away.  It wasn’t long before you felt his shadow, and a few soft knuckle taps on the window.

“Please don’t go,” he said.  

“I don’t want to go,” you shivered and finally broke out in a sob, tears streaming down your face.  “I love you so much.”

Next thing you knew, you were in his arms, and then you were back in the bed you shared, begging him to be so deep inside, until it made you see stars.  

—-----

“An inch to the left,” Robin coached you from the ground as you were up on a ladder at the Velvet Hammer, hanging a piece of artwork along the brick red wall opposite the bar while Mother Love Bone played from the jukebox.  “Ah, right there. Perfect.”

You’d brought a few paintings over weeks earlier, at Robin’s request, and they all sold almost immediately, so she begged you to bring in a few more.  Still an employee at the Hammer, Steve offered you something more of an assistant manager position, but you were honest with him and confessed you didn’t want the extra responsibility, but that you’d help as much as you could.  Plus, the tips you earned waitressing mostly surpassed what they could offer you as an assistant, and you were under the gun to get a collection of work together for the upcoming show in Marysville.

The same Marysville shows at the airplane hangar where you’d bumped into Eddie and Charlene that one night three years ago. The memory felt surreal to you, as if it were something that had happened in another lifetime.  

The bar didn’t open for another hour, and Steve was hunched over a cup of coffee, popping energy pills he’d bought at the gas station.  

“Get any sleep last night?” You asked, on your way to return the ladder to the storage room.  

Steve grumbled something unintelligible, and his head bounced, nodding himself awake as if he’d been drifting off right where he sat. 

“Mae has some serious pipes on her,”  Robin quipped, speaking of Steve and Astrid’s newest baby girl, Mae, who was barely 16 weeks old.  “The only one of us she seems to want to be around is Oliver.”

The twins were over 2 years old by then, and just as much of a handful as you’d imagine toddlers would be.  Now with another baby, the family was running on empty.  You and Eddie volunteered to babysit Rue and Gracie for a weekend after Mae was born, and even though you loved the girls dearly and cherished the time with them, you found yourselves counting down the minutes until their dad came to pick them up on the last day.  “I’m glad we decided not to have kids.  Steve’s brood is more than enough,” Eddie whispered to you at the window watching Steve drive off.  He even considered getting “snipped” around the time Steve had the procedure, just as a precautionary measure.

“Why are you here so early anyway?” Robin asked around a yawn, adjusting the clasp on her denim overalls.  “Go home and get some rest.  I’ll stay until Shana gets here at noon.”

Steve yawned too, stretching his arms above his head as he stood.  He wore a nice pair of blue denim jeans and a sage green pearl snap shirt that was buttoned wrong.  “Can’t. Interviewing for a new apprentice over at the shop.”

Construction on the tattoo parlor next door took longer than anticipated.  So long, that Eddie got frustrated enough to go ahead and do a bunch of the work himself.  They’d just passed inspection the week before and were anxious to get some bodies in there working.  They’d decided on the name Velvet Ink, and Wayne found some vintage barber chairs at auction for the reception area aesthetic Steve was looking for.

As of then, Wayne was fully in remission and getting his strength back. He’d even been well enough to take his 1948 Harley-Davidson Panhead out on a few Sunday cruises with the boys.  Rue, one of the twins, took to him like glue, and Eddie remarked that he’d never seen the old man smile as big as he did when she called him “gan-pa”. 

Taking the last big gulp of his coffee, Steve made his way out, letting in blinding beams of sunlight when he pushed open the front door of the Hammer. He paused for a moment to look at the padded leather stool that was there, the one he’d parked his butt on for many a night.  Even though he helped to keep the peace if necessary, most of the past two years had been spent behind the scenes.  A weird, secret part of him missed it; missed the simplicity of being a bouncer, versus being the owner of two businesses.  Before he knew it, reminiscing on his old life brought his thoughts back to Charlene.

He was sure that she kept tabs on him, and he hoped she never decided to drop in and wreak havoc on his life again, but he was grateful for the fresh start she’d given him.  He hoped that she was enjoying herself with Billy…or whoever the hell she was fucking those days.  

—-----

It was Eddie’s night to make dinner, and you spotted him fussing in the kitchen through the side window of the farmhouse when you drove up that night.  It looked like he touched something that was too hot and was snapping his hand in the air to cool it off.  

You saw his motorcycle parked in the red barn, and wondered if he was planning to do some repairs on it.  The Chevelle was no longer around, as he’d sold it to a collector up north so he could get a pickup that would be more useful to your new lives.  You’d begged him not to, as  you knew how hard he’d worked on it over the years with Wayne, but he couldn’t be swayed otherwise.  .

Turns out, your man was extremely stubborn.

“Hey there, Dungeon Master,” you greeted him, shutting the back door to take your coat off.  He’d been teaching you to play DnD now that he had a new head mechanic at the shop, giving him a bit more time to lean into his hobbies. Max and Lucas moved back to town, and Eddie was happy to teach Lucas how to operate the tow truck when he voiced that he needed a job.  

In a black Hanes tank and jeans, your man was barefoot with his hair tied back.  Looking down at the pot of sauce he was stirring, he smiled so big his dimples popped.  “You really like calling me that, don’t you?”

Calling him Dungeon Master was a new kink unlocked for you.

You set your bag on one of the kitchen chairs and wrapped your arms around him from behind to sink your teeth into his shoulder.  “I love finding out what a nerd you truly are.  It’s hot.”  

He lifted up a wooden spoon full of marinara, cupping his other hand underneath, and turned to blow on it before putting it to your lips.  

“Smells yummy,”  you said before taking a taste.  He watched  your mouth, but then eagerly found your eyes for the verdict.

“Mhmm baby it’s delicious.”

Satisfied, he went back to stirring. “Astrid gave me her recipe.  I’ve never made it from scratch before,” he took a lick off the spoon for himself. “I think I used too much garlic.”

Another facet of Edward Munson you’d never realized before was that he was a natural in the kitchen, and found a lot of joy in cooking.  One of the first things he made when you first moved in was chickpea patties for burgers, and whenever the two of you went into a bookstore and you found him browning the vegetarian cookbook section.  

If  you weren’t working at the Hammer, nights at home were very low key.  There was the occasional concert or dinner on the town, but mostly nothing sounded better than curling up on the couch with him, or on the porch swing with a cocktail.  Charlie was strictly an inside cat, but you found a stray living in the barn.   All black with green eyes, a recent visit to the vet let you know that she was pregnant, and a litter of kittens was on the way, one of which had already been claimed by Oliver.  So, you brought her inside and made her comfortable in the guest bedroom, until just yesterday when  you found her curled up for a nap in Eddie’s lap.

He named her Scully because of his love of The X-Files, and you wondered if he’d be able to give the rest of the kittens up for adoption with the way he fawned over his new companion.  He bought her a fancy collar with a bell, as well as catnip and special treats that she was forced to share with Charlie.

Later that night, sprawled on the couch with your head on his chest, you were having a hard time keeping your eyes open during an episode of Saturday Night Live when the phone in the kitchen rang.  You almost jumped out of your skin, and both of the cats sprang from their perch on top of the couch.

“What the shit,” Eddie grumbled, gently sliding out from underneath you just as a second ring shattered the once peaceful evening.  

“Who would be calling this late?” You said groggily, pulling the blanket up to your chin to turn and watch Eddie disappear down the hall.  

“I don’t know, but this better not be Steve wanting to rant about one of his late night epiphanies.”

Phone calls at midnight were rarely ever a good thing.  You sat straight, waiting to hear Eddie pick up the receiver. Had someone been hurt? Were the girls okay? Had something gone wrong at the Velvet Hammer? Maybe it was Bones needing Eddie for something to do with the Kings, and if so, you didn’t want him to answer it.

Eddie jerked the white, cordless phone to his ear, frowning.  “Yeah? This is Eddie.”

You shifted to the edge of your seat, muting the TV so that you could hear him.

“How did you get this number?” He mumbled gruffly.

That made you get to your feet.

“...what makes you think I had anything to do with it?”

You took a few steps and froze.

You had a very bad feeling that you knew exactly who it was at the other end.  

Eddie locked eyes with you when you came to pause at the stove. 

“You have to be mistaken, there’s no way he was one of ours—-,” Eddie said to whoever it was, shaking his head.

You reached out and motioned for him to hand you the phone.

He swallowed, hesitating at first, but then you took it from him and put it to your ear.

“Charlene?” Your tone was patient. “What’s going on?”

—----

Earlier that evening at the Harrington residence, Astrid was breastfeeding Mae in the rocking chair while Katie helped the twins get dressed after their bath, and Robin washed dishes with Oliver.  The TV was on, but no one was paying any attention to it, and Mae nestled against her mother like she was finally ready for sleep.

God, Astrid was tired.

Exhausted to the marrow of her bones and beyond.

Absolutely in love with her daughters and in awe of the beautiful family they’d created, but wishing she could have a few hours away from it all, just the same.

The twins were being loud, giggling as their Auntie Katie ushered them across the hall to their bedroom, and Astrid held her breath, worried they’d wake the baby up.

She let Robin know she was putting Mae in her crib, and then went to take the first shower she’d had in a while, feeling her stretch marks and all the ways her body had changed after carrying three babies. She never doubted Steve’s attraction to her, but he tattooed gorgeous women every day, not to mention the ones who waited tables in fishnet stockings and danced at the Hammer.  She was sure a handful of those young beauties had a crush on their boss and would offer him comfort any time he wanted it.

She hated when her mind went there, when she could feel the walls of insecurity and depression closing in.  She wanted to be nothing but grateful for every waking moment, but sometimes she was way too tired to think clearly.  She needed to cry or scream or fuck… or something.

Between the kids, Steve’s schedule, and having zero energy at night, she couldn’t remember the last time the two of them had been intimate.  A few kisses and touches in passing was really all it had been.  Considering the insatiable hunger they’d had for each other over the years, it made her worry that he just wasn’t attracted to her anymore.  But also, she knew that was bullshit—-but the whispers kept nagging at her.  

On her way back down the hall to her bedroom, she could hear Oliver reading the girls a bedtime story and she paused to listen, emotions catching in her throat.  Rue and Gracie loved him so much, and he was such a wonderful big brother, slipping into the role like he was born for it. Born to be a nurturing, caring soul just like his father.  She often wondered if Ollie would grow up to be who Steve would’ve been, if he had been surrounded with love as a kid.  Before Wayne took over his care, he hadn’t known much comfort or safety.  

Steve came home smelling like a distillery, and when he tried to kiss her on his way in, she moved her head away.

“Where have you been?” She didn’t have to ask, it was obvious he’d tattooed late and stayed to have a few drinks. She missed the guy who would spend hours rubbing her belly and talking to the babies inside of it.  It was the closeness she missed, not the sex itself. 

Alarms went off in Steve when he caught the way she didn’t want to look at him, the way she shrugged away from his touch.  “Hey, baby, I’m sorry.  Jake paid extra to have his back piece finished tonight and so I—”

Robin and Katie had adjourned to the basement, and Astrid was folding laundry at the couch. “You just thought you’d booze it up with your buddies while I took care of our girls?”

He lowered his arms to hook his thumbs into his belt loops.  “I thought about calling but I didn’t want to wake the—”

“Your daughters are all asleep.  Gracie was asking for her daddy,” she pinned a towel to her check with her chin and folded the ends together.

Steve’s heart tightened, thinking of how he’d missed his baby girl asking about him.  Thinking of how he was already letting her down.  “I’m gonna sneak in and say goodnight,” he mumbled, heading that way.

“Please don’t,” Astrid snapped. “It took a long time to get them to calm down, but you’re rarely here at night so you wouldn’t know.”

Okay, something was definitely wrong.  He’d fucked up, but he wasn’t exactly sure how.  Astrid knew that he’d have some long nights, this was something they’d talked about.  There had to be something else going on.  

He sat down on the edge of the recliner, facing her, and laced his fingers together.  “Is there anything…you want to talk about?”

Astrid scoffed, keeping her eyes on the TV.  “Where do I even start?”

“I’m sorry if I—”

“Just say it, Steve,” she bit, stacking folded towels on top of each other.  “Just say you’d rather get drunk with the dancers at the Velvet Hammer rather than come home and be with me.”

At that, he was dumbfounded. Gobsmacked, even.  

“How could you…what? That’s crazy. Shit, you know other women don’t even exist for me, Astrid,” he kept trying to catch her gaze, but she’d avoid it.  “No one has ever meant more to me than you.  You're the love of my life.”

“I can tell you’re not attracted to me anymore, Steve. Just say it, I don’t float your boat.”

“Float my boat?” He almost chuckled at that, but immediately caught himself, realizing that it wasn’t a good time for humor.  

There were tears welling in her eyes and Astrid bit her cheek in an effort to keep them at bay; her shoulders were shaking.

“Hey, listen, baby, c’mere,” he stood and reached for her hand.  She let him have it, dropping the t-shirt she’d been holding.  “Tell me you love me? Please?”

“Have you fucked anyone else since we’ve been together?’ She stared at him that time, eyes wet.

Steve didn’t hesitate. “Never even crossed my mind.”

She swallowed thickly, lowering her gaze.

“Wait,” Steve’s mind raced, realizing that it had probably been months since they’d had sex.  “Have you? Fucked another dude?”

That one pissed her off, and it showed in the look she shot him. “When the hell would I have time for that, Steve? I barely have time to pee.”

He let go of her hand.  “Oh, so, you’ve wanted to, with other people…you just don’t have time?”

“Steve, I’m going to punch you in the throat.”

He pulled her over so that she was in his lap, and she only fought him a little because then she was crying into his neck, overcome with exhaustion.

“Tell me,” he said softly, brushing her hair away to kiss her forehead.  “Tell me you love me.”

“You know I do,” she sniffed, letting the tears roll hot down her cheeks, pulling her knees up so that she was snug in his lap. 

“Say it,” he was pushing it now, tipping her chin up to find her mouth with his.  

She mumbled her devotion as the tip of his tongue dragged along her bottom lip.

She clung to him as she cried it out for a minute, letting him hold her close and stoke her hair.

“Is she okay?” It was Oliver.

He’d snuck in from the other room and was watching the scene with a creased, worried brow.

“I’m fine, honey,” Astrid sat up, wiping her eyes.  “It’s just been a long day.”

Oliver stared at his dad, almost defiantly.  “I don’t like to see her sad.”

Steve saw his own tender perception mirrored back to him in his son's eyes.  “I don’t like it either, come over here,” he motioned for Ollie to get close enough so he could put his arm around his son.  “Why aren’t you in bed?”

“I didn’t want to miss you again,” Oliver admitted, sending another pang into Steve’s heart.

He’d gone from working all the time to…working even more, and something had to change.  He hated being away from his family so often that he missed bedtime several days a week; they needed to hire more full-time help like Robin suggested, but Steve and Eddie were trying to pinch every penny.

After he talked to Oliver about his day, Steve realized he needed a goddamn smoke.  Since the twins were born, he’d tried several times to cut back, but decided to quit cold turkey two days ago, and it wasn’t working.  He needed to get some of those nicotine patches or something because being irritable with a throbbing head was no way to live in tandem with everything else on his plate.

Two hours later, after he’d tucked Ollie in and everyone else in the house was asleep, Steve made love to his wife. 

He was about to try for a second round when his beeper on the nightstand started buzzing.

The alert was from Eddie.

Steve frowned at the number and excused himself to use the phone while Astrid pulled her robe on to go and check on Mae.  

Come to find out, the past was indeed back to haunt him, yet again.

—--------

Hawkins was the last place Charlene ever expected to be on her birthday weekend.  She’d said goodbye to that place forever, or so she thought, as there was nothing for her there.  Her relationship with Billy lasted the better part of a year, but when she found out he’d been cheating on her with their neighbor, it didn’t even phase her.  Normally, she would’ve been furious and exacted some elaborate revenge on the two, but at the time, she only shrugged and told him good luck.  She was never in love with him, he’d been just another way to pass the time; a way to distract from her deep, soul-sucking loneliness. 

Just before the separation from John, she’d purchased a storage unit for sentimental items she didn’t want to look at, but also didn’t have the heart to throw away.  She’d considered letting someone from Storage Wars buy it just so they could be disappointed, but there were private letters and photos in there that she never wanted anyone to see, especially not strangers.  So, she was back to clean it out and burn whatever she no longer wanted to hold on to.  

She was in disguise, so to speak, with a new cropped brunette hairdo, and oversized sunglasses.  The divorce and the bankruptcy of one of John’s businesses made headlines in the paper for weeks, as there was clearly not much to talk about in Hawkins, and for the first time since marrying into money, she didn't want to be recognized.  

She promised she wouldn’t punish herself by driving along the street in front of the Velvet Hammer, but she did it anyway.  She picked up her white 1970 Jaguar XKE from the secure garage it’d been stored in, and parked across the street to watch you carry a huge painting in while Robin held the door for you.  The neon sign for Velvet Ink was clever, and she sat there for over an hour, until Steve finally stepped out of the main building.  He squinted up at the daylight, shaking his fist like he wanted to punch the sun, and went next door to shake hands with a woman who was tattooed neck to foot, before unlocking the door to the parlor.  

She had plenty of phone numbers for young men who would love to get paid to be her escort, but she was tired of paying people.  She wanted someone to want to be with her, and be protective of her, without the money or the status, and she was realizing she didn’t know how to act normal when it came to earning someone’s genuine affection.  

So, that night, she was alone at a swanky rooftop bar drinking a dirty martini and listening to someone playing a Christopher Cross instrumental on the piano.  

Eating the last olive, she was thinking she’d make her way to her hotel when she felt a body sink down for a seat just one stool over.  She smelled him first; a familiar mix of leather and nicotine, but this one had superior taste in cologne as she recognized a hint of cedar and honeysuckle from Dior’s Fahrenheit.  

He ordered a beer and a shot of Jameson and then, to her surprise, he leaned over and pointed at her empty glass.  “Can I buy you another?”

Her first instinct was to flat out ignore him or say, “no, I can buy my own drinks, thanks,” but then she turned to see who the voice belonged to, and her tongue got stuck on the roof of your mouth.  

Maybe ten years her junior, he wore his jet-black hair slicked back, while his full lips and hazel eyes reminded her of someone.  She could tell he was tall with broad shoulders, and a couple tattoos exposed where his shirt was pushed up to the elbows.  A few chunky metal rings similar to the ones Eddie always wore, and from the insignias on his leather vest, she could see that he was also a member of the Coffin Kings MC.  

Charlene notoriously had a thing for outlaws, especially pretty ones, and so she let him buy her that second drink, and then a third.  

He said his name was Nick, and she was relieved to find out he appeared to have no clue who she was.  She said her name was Rita, and after that third drink, she invited him back to her room to continue the party there.  

Inviting a stranger back to her suite was not how she’d expected the evening to go, but the need to feel the weight of him on top of her overrode any common sense that might’ve tried to dissuade her. He was sexy and he made her laugh, and those were the only qualifications she needed at that moment.

After a few hours of getting to know each other in the biblical sense, and enjoying the mini bar, Charlene excused herself to the bathroom.

“I think I need a shower,” she hummed, lifting an eyebrow.  “You want to join me?”

He was stretched out on the bed naked with his hands behind his head watching an episode rerun of ER.  

“You go ahead, babe,” he seemed to nestle further into the pillows after that term of endearment, shooting her a wink.  His Coffin Kings leather was neatly folded over the back of the nearby chair.  “I’m gonna make us a couple more drinks.”

She left the bathroom door open a crack, just in case he changed his mind, but then she got fully absorbed in how heavenly the steaming hot water felt.  She thought she heard him come into the bathroom at one point, so she peeled the curtain back a few inches, but only found her reflection in the mirror.  

By the time she turned the water off, the steam from the hot shower was as thick as soup, and she realized that at one point, he’d shut the door all the way for whatever reason.  Perhaps for her modesty? Him being such a gentleman felt almost too good to be true.  

“You could order some food from the late-night menu if you’re hungry,” she said from behind the closed door while brushing her hair out.  “Pie sounds good for some reason.”

Either he wasn’t responding, or he did, and she just couldn’t hear him over the audience laughter on the TV.  She rubbed in some expensive body butter and then checked herself in the mirror a few times while putting the fluffy, white hotel robe on.  

“But if you need to go home I’d understand, as long as I can have one more—-”

She opened the door as she spoke, but then stopped dead in her tracks.

Nick was no longer sprawled on the bed, and all of his clothes were gone, even his kutte.

Nothing wrong with that, maybe he went to get ice or to take a phone call.

The suite was large, with a separate sitting room, and so she checked around for a bit before realizing he had, in fact, vanished.

Anxiety rose in her chest but she pushed it down, taking a seat on the edge of the bed to reach for her lipstick on the nightstand.

But the lipstick was in her purse and there was no purse to be found, just a few condom wrappers and tiny, empty bottles of booze.

She’d taken her purse into the bathroom with her, she was sure of it.

After a few sweeps of the place, mumbling to herself in disbelief and horror, Charlene realized that her purse, her money, and her car keys were all gone.

She’d been hustled by a member of the Coffin Kings, and the truth of it made her scream into the palms of her hands.  

She sprinted for the window to yank the curtains back.  It was the middle of the night, and they were on one of the highest floors, and she couldn’t see the Jaguar from there even with binoculars.

She didn’t even bother to change out of her robe or put shoes on as she bolted from the room.  She was pissed, sure, but there were sobs catching in her throat, and that old loneliness dropped like a lead weight, threatening to bring her to her knees.  

By the time she rushed breathless into the lobby, Nick and her car were long gone.  

—------

For whatever reason, Charlene asked Eddie specifically not to tell Steve; she didn’t want to face him under such lame circumstances.  But the two men made an agreement a while back that one would tell the other if they ever heard from her, just to keep miscommunication to a minimum when dealing with someone who had a track record for manipulation.  

“She thinks one of you put this Nick guy up to it,” you said, standing at the door watching Eddie get dressed.  “As payback or something.”

Eddie frowned, adjusting the strap on his watch.  “If I felt like I needed to get back at Charlene, I sure as hell wouldn’t trust someone else with the task.  Plus, I didn’t even know she was back in town.”

“Did Steve know?” 

The last person you ever wanted to feel bad for was the rich white woman who tried to ruin your life, but still, you didn’t like the idea of any woman getting hustled and used in that way.  

Okay, maybe Charlene deserved some payback, but you hated to think that someone from the Coffin Kings was out there making a habit of taking advantage of women in such a spineless way.

Eddie was rummaging through the top dresser drawer.  “We don’t even have a member named Nick, so that’s another whole fucking problem.”

“Another charter, maybe?” You followed him into the kitchen.

“Maybe,” he put his leather jacket on while Scully wound herself around his legs. He bent down to pet her and spoke to her in a baby voice before finishing his thought. “Or maybe it’s something worse.”

You didn’t have to ask to know that impersonating a member of the MC was a big problem. 

Under any other circumstances, Eddie would wait until the next day to deal with whatever happened to Charlene, but the chop shops worked fast, and if they didn’t hurry, they’d never get her car back.

Why did Eddie even care? He asked himself that on the way to meet Steve at the hotel, rumbling along in his midnight blue, square box Chevy.  She could’ve just called the cops and let them sort it out. But Eddie knew that, aside from Hopper, the police force was a joke, and there would be days of paperwork and questioning before anything attempted to get solved.  By then, whoever the guy was would be long gone, and the Jaguar on a cargo ship to its next owner.  

Steve was already in the parking lot, leaning against his bike with a smoke in his mouth when Eddie rolled up.

“How the hell did you get here so fast?” He asked, slamming the door of his truck.

“Left a message for Miser down at the chop shop,” Steve exhaled, ignoring his friend’s question.  “He said he’ll keep an eye out for the car.”

Eddie had already sucked down his ration of cigarettes for the day, so he shoved another piece of gum in his mouth as they made their way to her floor.

There was a crystal chandelier in the lobby and mirrored elevators that gave Eddie the creeps.  

“You think it’s some sort of trap?” Steve had his hands in his pockets, leaning in the corner while they traveled up with a Beach Boys instrumental played from a speaker in the ceiling.  “Like she’s trying to trick us or something?”

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Eddie muttered.  “I’m not gonna mention it to Bones and the rest until we know what we’re dealing with.”

Still in her robe, Charlene would’ve touched up her makeup to look presentable, but her Estee Lauder compact, and mascara were both in the stolen purse.  Also, she was too upset to care. She’d called to cancel the credit cards in her wallet, but there was a bunch of cash that she’d surely never see again. She’d have to contact her bank in the morning, but until then, she was basically squatting in that expensive hotel room.

Eddie did not look happy to see her when she opened the door, but she’d expected as much, tucking her bob of hair behind her ears. 

What she hadn’t expected, and what made her breath catch, was that Steve rolled in right behind him, scowling.  He had what appeared to be baby spit up on the front of his Santa Cruz skate shirt and dark indents under his eyes.  

Steve didn’t acknowledge her, he just breezed into the room and started looking around like he was a seasoned detective at the scene of a murder.  

Charlene gave Eddie a look, whispering, “I asked you not to tell him?”

All Eddie could do was shrug, as he was still weary of her intentions, and for good reason. 

Steve couldn’t help it, ever since the birth of his daughters, every injustice done to a woman in the world was something that could potentially happen to his girls, and he wasn’t having it.  

“What did he look like?” Eddie asked the question just as Steve spun on his heel at the other side of the bed.  

Hands on hips, she gave the description as best she could, and it sounded like half the guys in the club.

“He said his name was Nick?” Steve picked up the remote to turn the TV up a notch.  Unsolved Mysteries was on and he was suddenly interested, forever distracted.  “Do you think he was telling the truth?”

Charlene scoffed. “I had no reason to think he was lying? I didn’t ask to check his driver’s license.”

“Maybe you should from now on,” Steve kept his eyes on the screen, sitting down at the end of the bed.  “The way you go through men like a meat grinder.”

“Look who’s talking, Romeo,” she spit back.  

Charlene turned to complain to Eddie, but instead he held his hand up, palm out to silence her.  “Are you sure he was with the Coffin Kings?” 

Charlene tightened the sash on her robe. “Okay, you two can feel however you want about me, but you know I’m nothing if not observant.”

The two were silent in agreement.

“His leather vest looked just like the ones you have on now.  Black, tooled leather with the reaper holding a coffin on the back.  Embroidered insignias on the front as well.”

“Did it have a nickname or rank?” Eddie stuffed a third piece of wintermint gum in his mouth while Steve lit another smoke.  The smell of the nicotine made Eddie’s hand twitch and his muscles ache.

Charlene shook her head after a moment of contemplation.  “He didn’t have a name on his cut, but Hawkins was the charter, I’m positive.”

Both men shared a look before Steve got to his feet.  “So you had your car stolen, what’s the big deal? Don’t you have like a hundred of them?”

Charlene shot him a look, reminding herself not to be a bitch. “That car belonged to my dad.  It was special. He’s the only person in this world who ever gave a shit about me.” She went to the bedside table to grab a half empty travel size bottle of Jameson and drank the rest.  “That’s why I kept it in storage. I couldn't take it with me, and I didn’t want to sell it.”

Eddie scratched the stubble on his chin, thinking about how he couldn’t wait to go home to crawl in bed with you and the cats. 

“How much is it worth?” Steve asked out of curiosity.

Charlene shrugged, leaning against the wall to cross her feet at the ankles. “Dunno what it would go for today.  Easily 300K.”

Eddie almost choked on his wad of gum thinking of what he could do with that much dough.  

Steve raised an eyebrow.  “You better hope this Nicky is stupid and greedy enough to sell it locally, or we might be shit out of luck.”

—-----

You felt Eddie slink in under the covers to spoon you early in the morning before dawn, but you were too tired to look at the clock or ask him how it went.  Charlie was curled up at your feet and Scully took her pregnant belly over to nestle behind Eddie’s knees and purr.  

He wasn’t in bed with you at quarter to 8 when you finally rose from sleep, and for a second, you thought maybe you’d only dreamed about him coming home, until you saw the note he’d left on the nightstand.  

Had to run again

Tell you everything later

Left the coffee on

Love you infinity, Eddie

The way he always signed his notes made you chuckle, as if anyone else would be leaving notes for you at the house.  You folded it up and tucked it into the shoebox in the closet where you stashed all of his notes to you.

After a half hour of letting yourself rejoin the living on a much-needed day off, you went up to the studio to stare at the two paintings you were working on, but your reverie was shattered when the phone rang.

Breathless, you answered to find that it was Robin.  The shrill wail of a screaming child sounded from somewhere in the background.  

“Is Steve there at your place?” She sounded rightfully flustered.

“No, um,” you looked around the kitchen as if maybe he was there, you just didn’t know it.  “Eddie was here but then he left again. They might be together?”

A thoughtful silence and then, “Steve never came home last night. We assumed he stayed at your place.”

You were shaking your head but then realized Steve could have slept in the living room and you wouldn’t have been the wiser.  You walked through the house to see if there was a blanket on the couch, but it was as tidy as you’d left it before bed.  

“Are you busy right now?” Robin continued, making the executive decision to worry about Steve’s whereabouts later.

That was a loaded question, and even though you had plenty to do, you knew that was Robin’s way of saying she needed help.  “Not…right this minute.”

“I hate to ask,” it was true, she really did hate to ask for help, but sometimes it was necessary.  “Could you come over here for an hour or so? Katie has teacher conferences, I have to go to the Hammer, and as you know, Steve is MIA…”

“Sure,” Mae let out another earth-cracking wail that made you fear for your life. “Be there in ten minutes.”

—------

Miser’s underground chop shop operated behind one of the oldest buildings in Hawkins; solid brick, using a mom-and-pop place to get an oil change as a front during the day, but at night, stolen cars were stripped for parts and/or sold on the black market.  The building was huge, and had once been a busy hotel and saloon, as it was near the train station.

Miser himself was short and muscular with a gray, handlebar mustache, a rodeo buckle from his old bareback days, and a cowboy hat.  He’d been a pillar of the community for decades, and one of the last few anyone would suspect of illegal activity.  

That morning, Eddie, Steve, Van, and Devlin rolled into the alley, passed the No Trespassing signs, and settled at the locked garage door. Miser’s Old Lady was one of the head Hells Belles named Jackal, and she came out of the back door with him.  A long ponytail of silver hair, she lit a smoke and gave the guys a tip of her chin.  

“That car you said to look out for? The white Jaguar?”

Eddie and Steve still had their sunglasses on, nodding once in unison his question. 

“The guy showed up an hour ago,” Jackal inclined her head, whispering. “He’s been here before. He’s with another crew that likes to scam older women and take their shit.”

Steve and Eddie exchanged a look with the other two members, palms itching to get their hands on him.

“I asked him about the Kings flash,” Jackal continued.  “He said he was from another charter, but he didn’t know who Bones was.”

Bones, President of the Coffin Kings Hawkins charter, was one of the first original 9 members of the MC when they first banded in the 60’s.  Every CK member from Indiana to California knew exactly who Bones was.

So, this guy Nick just made it to the top of their shit list.  

“This might get messy,” Eddie said to Miser.

“We got you,” Jackal confirmed, waving for them to follow her.  

At the far end of the building, a door opened, and a guy with slick black hair, wearing a Coffin Kings kutte stepped out.

“Shit, that’s him—” Miser hissed, reaching for the Ruger at his hip.

But it was too late, the guy saw them and bolted.

Steve cursed, letting out after him on foot alongside Jackal, while Eddie and the others pursued on their bikes.  

Around the next building, there was a car waiting for Nick—a plain white sedan—and even after Steve summoned his high school athlete days, he still couldn’t catch up.  Nick jumped in the passenger seat and the vehicle peeled out, throwing dust up into Steve’s face as his arms windmilled to a halt.   

“Fuck,” Steve took his sunglasses off and threw them to the gravel, nostrils flaring as he watched the vehicle flee.  

Miser sent a gunshot, aiming for the front tire, but missed as the car picked up speed.  

Eddie and the others continued on in hot pursuit, and Jackal motioned for Steve to get into her truck that was nearby: a lifted navy Bronco with monster tires.  Steve had to grip onto the side bar to heft himself up into it, and then she gunned it, skidding out of the parking lot.

The sedan led them on a wild chase over the railroad tracks, skirting the center of town to avoid the cops.  Eddie and Van made their way to the side of the vehicle and Van cracked the driver’s side window with the hilt of his knife, making them swerve.  The car dove into the nearby alfalfa field, going where they knew the motorcycles couldn’t follow.

But, Jackal’s Bronco was made for the mud.

“Hold on—” she warned Steve.

“I’m holding,” Steve said through gritted teeth, eyes narrowed on the target in front of them, his fist tight on the grab handle above his head.  

The sedan almost got its back tire stuck in the ditch, but the Bronco bounced right through the muck like it was a paved road, tractor tread crawling along like a tank.  

While Steve and Jackal took a diagonal course through farmland, Eddie and the rest took the next side road, aiming to cut them off before they could hit the highway.

—-----

You were on your way to Robin’s when you caught sight of a white car being chased through a field by what looked like a monster truck from one of rallies at the coliseum.  

“What…the—-”

It was far enough away that you didn’t feel in danger, but you slowed down to see if you could understand what was happening.

But then three riders on motorcycles were headed in your direction at full tilt, so you pulled off to the side of the road to get out of their way, wondering if you knew any of them—-

“Eddie?” You squinted, wanting to be mistaken.

Indeed that was your boyfriend leading the pack.  

He saw you as they passed at lightning speed and picked up his hand in a wave.

You sat there for a while, watching the three of them disappear in your rearview mirror, clearly angling to beat whoever was driving their car through the crop rows.  

After a heavy sigh, you dropped your shoulders and kept on in the direction you were headed.

Three years ago, you would’ve freaked out and followed them.  But at that point in the relationship, such a scene was par for the course, and you knew it was best to stay out of it. 

—----

Up ahead was a sharp turn in the bend, and Devlin sped up to angle the sedan away from the street.  His approach clipped the bumper of the car, making it lose control, forcing it back into the ditch, but it also made his own bike go flying.  Thankfully he was thrown free before the hunk of metal landed on his leg, skidding across the gravel.

Jackal rode her tire up onto the back of the sedan, pinning it there as the two men inside fled.

Steve was on the ground so fast, he could barely find his feet.  His legs felt like that of a roadrunner in one of the cartoons, flying in circles.  

Eddie snagged the driver, throwing him into the dirt with a grunt, followed with a punch of his fist.  The driver was gangly, with a prison spider web tat on his elbow and dishwater blonde hair styled in a mullet.  

Nick climbed up onto the main road and bolted, until Jackal aimed and shot a bullet so close to his head, the heat grazed his ear.

That made him stutter to a halt, just in time for Steve to tackle him at the waist, putting him down hard on the pavement.  Van took Eddie’s place, putting his knee into the driver’s back, pinning him there while the rest went to deal with the Coffin Kings imposter.

No words were exchanged for a while, just Nick sputtering in pain while Eddie rolled him over to check his pockets.  

He found a wad of bills and waved it in Nick’s bloody face.

“C’mon man, that’s like 2 grand—-” Nick protested through a busted lip before Steve punched him again.

“Yeah, it’s real nice,” Eddie flashed a grin, standing to tuck the money in the top pocket of his leather.  “Take that thing off of him.”

Steve and Devlin got the leather vest off, making sure they hurt him in the process, and then Devlin put his boot on the guys belly to keep him there.

Eddie inspected the insignia’s, noticing there were no rank or name placards, and the material wasn’t even real leather.

Eddie gripped it in his fist.  “Where the fuck did you get this?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear,” Nick wiggled, grimacing at the weight of Devlin’s foot.  “Just let me go, okay?”

Steve bent down to lap the guys face with the back of his hand.  “He asked you a question.”

Nick looked like he’d rather vomit than tell the truth, but then Jackal stepped up and pointed her gun at him.

“Okay okay!” He squirmed.  “M-my mom made it for me, alright? For my birthday a few weeks ago.”

None of them had been expecting that, but they all made eye contact and snickered in disbelief; Eddie’s grin nearly split his face open right before his expression turned dark again.

“Tell your mom to come see us sometime, we’ll put her to work,” he joked.  “But you? You’re fucking done, do you understand—?”

Steve pulled Nick to his feet by his shirt and got in his face, jaw tense.  “I should kill you for what  you did to her.”

Eddie gave a sideway look, not expecting Steve to still have so much heat under his protectiveness for that woman.  Maybe that’s part of what having daughters did to a man.  

“B-b-but you’re not going to, right?”  Nick blubbered. “We’re cool?”

“We’re far from cool,” Steve pulled him close to whisper in his ear.  “I’ll be coming for you.”

And then Steve shoved him so that he tripped over his feet backwards and fell again.  

“You better run, cowboy,” Jackal shot a bullet into the ground at his feet, and he let out a high-pitched scream before taking off down the road on foot.  

“I see either of you again, you’re dead. Understand?” Eddie shouted after both of them as Van let go of his death grip on the driver.

The two were too scared to look back; too busy scurrying away as fast along the corn field to care about how stupid they looked.  

“Hey, War Machine,” Van brushed blonde hair away from his beard stubble. “Was that your girl we passed back there?”

Eddie checked over his shoulder in the direction of the farmhouse, wondering where you’d been headed, exhaling a long breath. “Yeah, it was.”

—-----

You only saw Robin in passing once you arrived at the house and parked behind the Airstream.  Oliver was at school, so it would be the three young girls with you and Astrid. 

The twins were on the floor in the living room, coloring, and you couldn’t get over how much Gracie looked like Steve.  Since they were fraternal, Rue resembled her sibling, but was also very different.  She had Astrid’s wild hair and a face that didn’t quite resemble either of their parents; Astrid said she was the spitting image of their grandmother, Evelyn.  

Astrid came around the corner cradling Mae in her arms with her mane of black hair back in a clip, and her eyes were puffy. 

“Please take her,” she groaned, handing over Mae into your arms with a sigh of relief.  “I can’t do this anymore.”

Mae had a pacifier in her mouth, but you could tell she was smiling up at you, lids droopy.  You began that automatic movement of rocking her in your arms.  You’d never been around many babies in your life, but the soothing gesture seemed to be ingrained in your dna.  

Astrid flopped heavily into the kitchen chair with a groan. “Did Robin tell you Steve never came home last night?”

“She did,” you bent to kiss Mae’s soft forehead. “Eddie came home late and left early, so Steve might’ve been with him, and I just didn’t know it.”

“It’s not like Steve to not leave a note or let me know somehow,” she started picking at an invisible thread on her peach dress that buttoned down the front. “Do you think he did anything with Charlene?”

You were shocked at the question, but your friend looked like she hadn’t slept in days and perhaps wasn’t processing thoughts at peak capacity.  

“Oh god no, Astrid,” Mae squirmed, kicking her strong little legs a few times in her Big Bird onesie, and you sat down in the chair next to Astrid. “Steve would never, and I think you know that. He’d cut his own hand off before he did anything as stupid as cheat on you.”

“Maybe,” she swallowed hard like she was trying to push down a sob. “We just…can’t seem to connect like we used to, and I’m just…just…”

She covered her face with both hands and cursed into her palms.  

“Hey,” you leaned forward with a free arm to rub soothing circles on her back.  “I’ll stay out here with the girls if you want to take a nap or something?  Slam some beers in the bathroom, whatever.”

Astrid chuckled a bit at that, sliding her hands down her face and into her lap. “Maybe I do need some sleep.”

From where you sat, you could see the twins on the floor in the next room with papers and crayons scattered about.  Just then, you noticed that Rue was headed in your direction, curls bouncing around her face.  

There was a tiny frown on her face, like she’d been concentrating, and she handed each of you a piece of lined notebook paper that had been ripped in half.

Apparently, she’d made some drawings, but before you could say anything, she was off again, determined to get back to her work.

“Thank you Rue, I love you,” you called after her.

“One is from meeee!” Gracie shouted.

“I love you too, Gracie,” you laughed, staring fondly down at the mess of colorful scribbles.

“They want to be like their big brother so bad,” Astrid had tears in her eyes, but for a different reason this time; she was so proud of her little family, so grateful to be a mother.

When you held the paper up to the light, you noticed that there was some writing on the back of it, so you turned it over.

My hot wife —

Slept in trailer, didn’t want to wake the girls

Can’t wait to kiss you again

I love you

S.

“Um, I think you should see this—” you passed the note to Astrid, and enjoyed watching the relief spread across her face as she read it.  

—------

A few hours later, Steve rolled up to Munson’s Garage in the Jaguar, after giving it a test run around the hills to enjoy how smooth it took corners.  He found Charlene already waiting there on a bench in the shade, talking with Wayne who wore a pair of light blue coveralls.

Wayne got to his feet while Steve pulled the sportscar up to the closest parking spot.

“Took you long enough,” Uncle barked at him, crossing his arms.  “Cab dropped her off an hour ago.”

He’d left the top down, so his hair was a mess, and he pushed his sunglasses up, eyeing the two.

“No, it’s fine,” Charlene shrugged, looking relaxed.  “I had good company.”  She had on a teal, halter top pant suit with matching heels, and she stuck out like a sore thumb.   

Steve put one booted foot up on the bench seat next to her.  “Yeahm, so, that guy Nick, he wasn’t—”

“I know,” Charlene reluctantly held her hand out to take the keys he was offering. “Eddie told me. I’d like to say I’ve learned my lesson, but probably not.”

“No woman deserves that,” Wayne said, giving Steve a pointed look. “I hope you boys took care of it.”

“We did,” Steve met his gaze, letting him know without words that the dude wouldn’t be hanging around Hawkins if he had a lick of sense.  

Wayne said a polite goodbye to Charlene before heading back to the shop. 

“You never mentioned how charming your uncle is,” she said, running a hand through her hair.

“Stay away from Wayne,” Steve grumbled, sitting down across from her.

“I didn’t mean—” she got flustered and then straightened.  “He reminds me of my dad, that’s all I meant.  Nothing nefarious.”

“Never can tell with you,” he muttered, fumbling to rip the wrapper off a soft pack of Camels with his teeth. He told himself he wouldn’t buy another pack, but he lied.

There was silence while Steve lit his smoke, all but for the sound of faint rock music and an electric drill from one of the garages.

“So,” she chanced. “I hear you have a big family now.”

“Yeah, what about ‘em?” He scowled at her after a hearty inhale.  

Charlene lifted both palms out as a sign of surrender.  “Forget it, I was going to say I’m happy for you.”

Steve snorted.  “You expect me to believe that, after all the shit you pulled, that you actually give a shit about anyone?”

She’d expected that, and she knew she deserved it.  

“I give a shit about you,” she muttered.  “I would’ve done anything for you.”

The sincerity confused him but then he pushed his shoulders back.  “I’ve got everything I ever wanted, and I won’t let anyone fuck with that. ‘Specially not you.”

“Understood,” she said, rubbing her magenta lips together with a nod. 

“I want you to be happy, though,” he softened his tone.  “I cared about you once, and that means I always will, no matter how much I wish that weren’t true.  I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“That’s probably the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she scoffed a self-deprecating laugh.

“That sucks,” Steve exhaled through his nostrils. “You’ve got a good heart, Charlene.  It’s just too bad you don’t know how to use it.”

A car pulled into the compound and at first, Steve didn’t pay much attention until he saw over his shoulder that it was you.

With Astrid and the girls.  

—-----

Eddie turned the radio up in the garage when Come and Get It by Judas Priest came on, and then wiped his hands on a red rag as he made his way to the office.  Although the finances at the Hammer and the garage were handled separately, he’d hired one accountant he trusted to take care of it all, and she’d just left a stack of paperwork for him to sign. 

On the wall behind the desk was a framed photo of the two of you together, hugging in the front doorway of the farmhouse the first day you’d moved in.  The flashback made his mouth twitch in a smile, as he had so many fond memories of those first couple weeks, back when there was nothing but a mattress on the floor and several leaks in the roof he had to control with various buckets.  It was just the two of you, making love and whispering about lifetimes of devotion.

He had a secret place in the metal file cabinet where he kept all of the notes you’d left in his lunch over the months, and he had this tugging need to look through them again just before he caught sight of your car coming through the open gate and into the compound.  Wayne was gone, but there on the picnic table sat Charlene and Steve, and before he could think too much about it, his feet were moving, wrenching the door open to make his way across the lot.

Steve jumped up when he saw you angling for a parking spot nearby.  Oh shit, Eddie realized you had Astrid and the girls with you, too.  The fact that they’d helped Charlene was no secret, but still, it made him feel uneasy with everyone about to converge in one spot. 

—------

“Please tell me that is not Charlene,” Astrid whispered, eyeing the profile of the woman sitting across from her husband.

“I’m afraid that is exactly who it is,” you muttered, suddenly feeling like maybe it wasn’t a great idea to bring the girls by to visit daddy at work. It had been a while, and you assumed she’d be gone by then.

But it was too late now.  You recognized the Jaguar parked nearby; it was the same one she brought in for Eddie to fix that first day you met.

All three girls were safely in car seats in the back, and when Astrid went to step out, Steve was right there, blocking her exit.

Funny enough, Eddie did the same, but on your side.  He was there so fast, you accidentally hit his leg with the door.

“What a sight for sore eyes,” he grinned, pulling you flush to him while tipping your chin up for a kiss.  

With lips still brushing together, you mumbled: “What the hell is she still doing here?”

And then through gritted teeth, Eddie responded: “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Steve went to grab for Astrid right away, hands at her hips, and she let him, but her attention was over his shoulder.  

“To what do I owe this pleasure, gorgeous?” He murmured, noticing that she’d put on some mascara and deep burgundy lipstick after not wearing makeup for months.  

Steve only shuffled back a few steps to allow her to shut the door, but then he continued to act as a barrier to keep her from going any further.  He bent down to knock on the back window, waving to the twins as Mae slept in the car seat between them.  Gracie shouted “daddy!” and held her hand out as if he could grab it through the glass. 

Steve glanced sideways at Eddie.  “So, should we all go get pizza or something? At that one place with the bouncy balls that the girls like? My treat.  If you head over there, we’ll meet you—-”

Eddie was close to telling his friend to shut the hell up, as it felt like his babbling was only making things worse. 

Astrid kissed his cheek.  “Please move out of my way, Steven.”

—----

Charlene stood up and took hold of the keys to head for the Jaguar.  She could tell by the looks you and Astrid were sharing that she’d managed to make things awkward, and more than anything, she felt embarrassed.  

But, she took a step away from the picnic bench just in time to see Steve’s twin daughters come bouncing out of the vehicle in matching Oshkosh overalls and her chest tightened—-oh god, one of them was the spitting image of Steve.

And why were the two tiny girls headed that way on their little wobbly legs as if they knew her?  

“Slow down, Rue!” Astrid called after them as Steve fumbled at getting the car seat out that had Mae inside.  

“She’s, um, she was just leaving,” Steve grunted, trying to move the apparatus out without waking the baby.  Astrid was already rushing to catch up with the girls, making each of them hold one of her hands.  

For some reason, Charlene was frozen.  Locking eyes with Gracie, knowing they were Steve’s hazel eyes, accumulated with the rest of her regrets like a punch to the gut.

Her deep dark secret was that she’d always wanted children of her own, but John refused.  

You and Eddie followed them over, albeit reluctantly.  If there were ever some serious conversation that needed to be had with Charlene, it certainly wouldn’t be done with the kids there, and so you weren’t at all sure what could possibly unfold.  

Although Charlene and Astrid had spent a very tense few moments together the night Craig was shot, they’d never shared more than a few words with each other.  Last night, when Steve got the page from Eddie, she’d known it was about Charlene before he even said a thing; she could feel her arriving in her bones like some might feel the impending threat of cold weather.  

Steve hurried to get between the two women and set the baby carrier on the picnic table.  Gracie was on her tiptoes with her arms up, begging him to put her on his shoulders, and so he did, and she took hold of his hair like a saddle horn.

“Glad we could meet under better circumstances,” Astrid said to Charlene, sincerely.

Eddie put his arm around your shoulder and you sank into him, wrapping both arms around his middle. You wished you could hide under his blue and black flannel so no one could see you.  

“You have a really beautiful family,” was all Charlene could think to say as she caught sight of Steve’s third daughter.

“Thank you,” Astrid replied, maintaining steady eye contact.

There were a few strained silences, and you could feel Eddie wanting to fill them, but suddenly he burst out with:

“Did you want to come by the Hammer and see what we’ve done with the place?” He chirped, rubbing your arm almost violently. 

Your whole body tensed at that, and you could see that it was the same physical response for Steve.  

“No, that’s…I’m good,” Charlene removed the Gucci sunglasses from the top of her head and put them over her eyes.  “There are several cargo crates of my things being sent to Hawaii right now, and I have a flight to catch.  But I’m sure you’ve done well with it.”

But it was Rue who broke the next silence.

She’d wandered a few yards over to the fence and back, carrying two bright yellow dandelions pinched between her fingers.

She was right there, blocking Charlene’s path to her car, arm outstretched to offer her one.

“For me?” Charlene was genuinely confused, and not accustomed to the wholesome kindness often displayed by children.  

Rue just nodded, tucking the other one behind her ear so that the bloom was at her cheek.

The rest of you exchanged a few baffled looks—all but Astrid, because she knew what was happening.  She knew then that her daughter carried the same gift she’d been born with; the gift of intuitive sight.  Even at her young age, Rue could read people and their intentions, and she knew that Charlene was no longer a threat to them.  She knew that everyone in that parking lot deserved healing and forgiveness. 

“Like this?” Charlene put the flower in her hair the same way with tentative fingers, and Rue nodded again, moving around the woman to walk back over to her family.

Astrid scooped Rue up into her arms.

Charlene took one last look over at the group as she drove out of the compound, seeing the way you all smiled at each other, continuing on with conversation as if she’d never been there. You were all visibly relieved to no longer be sharing space with her, but Rue had been able to see her with fresh eyes, without all of the pain and suffering she’d inflicted on others and on herself.  There’d been no judgment or weariness in that child’s eyes; just curiosity and love. It gave her a bit of hope that maybe she could…start over.  Maybe she’d fall in love again with a guy who wasn’t Steve, maybe she’d adopt a child of her own one day, or maybe…she’d get a dog and call it a day.  

—------

A few days later, you couldn’t find Scully, and the two of you fell into panic mode.

“Did you let her out?” Eddie snapped.  “You know we need to keep her inside this close to the due date.”

Eddie was a mess. Granted, you were upset too, but he was ready to tear the whole house apart looking for her, and then some.  You couldn’t help but smile to yourself seeing how devoted he was to this once stray cat.  Some nights he even made room between the two of you so that Scully could sleep in the middle.

But finally, a soft mewing from the closet alerted you to the fact that she’d tucked herself away in the dark to have her babies.  

“Honey, come look,” you whispered down the hall to him.

There she was, snuggled back in the corner in a box of old sweatshirts, nursing four tiny baby kittens.  She had one more a half hour later to make the final count five.  Two black, one gray, one black and white, and one orange striper.

“Daddy must’ve been an orange guy, hey my darling?” He hummed a conversation to Scully as you picked them all up to put down some fresh blankets, making sure she had food and water nearby.  

“What should we name them?” Eddie asked as you both sat in the doorway, watching them nuzzle together for sleep.

“I think we should let Oliver name the orange little girl, since I know that’s the one he’ll pick,” you whispered, to which Eddie agreed.  “Maybe I’ll name the gray one Keanu,” you said, mostly joking, but Eddie didn’t seem bothered.  As soon as it was possible, Scully would be back at the vet to get fixed, but you were grateful to have this experience with him.

“Can I name the black ones Dio and Vecna?”  He asked, hopefully.

“What kind of a name is Vecna?” You wrinkled your nose.  “Should we call him Vicky for short?”

“The black and white looks like a Leia,” he continued, eyes sparkling.  

“Leia is a good name,” you hummed, putting your cheek on his shoulder. 

You moved Scully and her box of babies into your bedroom so that she would be closer if she needed anything, but then in the middle of the night, she moved the kittens back to the same spot in the guest bedroom closet, so then that is where you let her stay.  

Later that night, you were in the kitchen cleaning up before bed, when you heard Eddie singing a song under his breath in the next room:

“Hey little girl is your daddy home, did he go and leave you all alone…”

You thought you recognized it as you scrubbed a dish, eyes darting to the window to watch two motorcycles zoom by on the dark highway in the distance.

“I got a bad desire…”

On the refrigerator behind you, secured by magnets, were photo snapshots of the two of you with Steve and Astrid, Robin and Katie, Gracie, Rue and one of Mae when she was first born.  There was one of Wayne twenty years ago, standing with Taz and War Machine as two gangly teenagers.  There was a long strip from a photo booth at the fair with you, Eddie, and Oliver all making faces for the camera.  

“Tell me now, baby, is he good to you

Can he do to you the things that I do? I can take you higher…”

He’d been folding the blanket on the couch and blowing out candles, but then he was on his way to  you as the mumbled lyrics got clearer:

“Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull

And cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my skull…”

You finished what you were doing, but then you stayed still, feeling him come up behind.  

“At night, I wake up with the sheets soaking wet

And a freight train running through the middle of my head…”

You leaned back, letting yourself be caged in his embrace; his head dipping to kiss your neck.  You thought about that day on the side of the road when he picked you up in the tow truck, and how it didn’t feel like you were meeting for the first time but more, coming back together after a lifetime apart.  

His lips ghosted the shell of your ear.  “Only you can cool my desire…”

After that first kiss years ago,  you knew there would never be another option for you; Eddie Munson was endgame.  Having tasted true love once in your life, you felt like you could die happy.

But not until you rode the highway of life for a long, long time.  Even at the end, you’d still be holding on tight.

“...Oh oh oh I’m on Fire…”

—------

The Epilogue of an Epilogue

“Yo, Steve. Package for you.”

It was Thumper, working the door at the Velvet Hammer for what promised to be a wild Friday night. Max ended up showing interest in the Assistant Manager position, after deciding that long haul trucking was taking a toll on her need to start a family, and Robin couldn’t hire her fast enough. Jeff also came on as a part-time bartender, leaving you pleasantly surprised and wondering what other skill sets he had up his sleeve.  

Steve had just come through the door to ask Shana for a cup of coffee when the crumpled brown piece of mail flew at his chest.  He caught it, but took the time to throw Thumper a dirty look.  

“Ease up, boss,” the burly biker grumbled through a huge grin.  “Since when do you have a penpal in Hawaii?”

He stopped in his tracks at that, afraid to look down.  Afraid to open it, even.  Steve’s newest ink—-Mae’s name on the back of his hand—-glistened from the recent layer of Aquaphor.

He asked for his coffee with a pound of sugar and sat at the end of the bar, frowning.

The return address was a P.O. box in Honolulu without a name, but he didn’t even have to wonder.  He was sure he could smell the Chanel through the packaging.

Inside was a ring of keys.

Car keys, clearly, but it took him a second to understand what they belonged to and why they looked so familiar in his hand.

There was also a note:

These are the keys to the Jaguar.  It’s parked in a secure garage at the airport, instructions also enclosed.

Every time I drive it, I get myself in trouble. Hopefully you will have better luck, or maybe Rue can have it when she gets older. 

The dandelion was a fair trade.  

C.

—----

I have so much to say, so much love to give to you all, and I hope you can feel it through the words. I'm so deeply grateful for each one of you and this experience. Whether you have left comments, reblogs, thoughtful asks, or edits, I remember you and you are special to me. I would give anything to meet up at the Velvet Hammer for cocktails (and/or tea, of course) but here are a few in particular I'd like to thank:

Huge thank you to @cryptidcurio for being the initial inspiration for this fic in the first place, and for always feeding me the best ideas. Some of the most popular scenes in this series are from her. Our biker Eddie and biker Steve talks seem to have somehow gotten us through the past hellish year, I love you. I'm so grateful for @texasblues and all of our chats about Steve, Astrid, Wayne, and the girls. Truly, the only reason Astrid and Steve are so perfect is because of Jennie and our brainstorming. We chat a lot about what Rue, Gracie, and Mae will be like when they are older, and hopefully we'll have a few blurbs about that someday. Also, I highly recommend her Steve & Astrid writings HERE My beautiful friend @dandelionnfluff decided to do a bind of I'm on Fire for their personal use and I am still choked up about how much work they put in and how gorgeous it is. You can see their amazing work here: book bind

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Taglist: @notsobubblybaby @unfocused81 @aysheashea @etherealglimmer@manicmagicmayhem @dream-a-little-nightmare@chaoticgood-munson @emxcast @rhirojo @bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975 @falling-solar-system@secretdryrose

@whatwedontdointheshadows @miarosso @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @goldyghoul @chloe-6123 @kelsiegrin @chelebelletx @stylesxmunson @kurdtbean@dandelionnfluff @hideoutside @truffleshuffle12 @tenthmoon @texasblues@emilyslutface@mmunson86@onegirlmanytales@laylaloves-ed@dashingdeb16@eddiiiieeee @ick90 @dashingdeb16 @polyestermonster @trixyvixx @atomickaratel8dy @kiyastrf94 @allthingsjoeq @eddiesxangel @razzieth @corrodeddeadlydoll @erinekc @angietherose @sllooney @writinginthetwilight @moonbeamsandmayhem @brianamunson92 @joannamuns9n @bellalillyrose @alba8688 @chevelle724

[mkeyztrm]

K.

- cigarettes after sex

“ and I’m kissing you, lying in my room. holding you until you fall asleep, and it’s just as good as I knew it would be. Stay with me, I don’t want you to leave. ”

Warnings(?): Toxic parents, 🍃 (barely)

nick sturniolo x m!reader(?)

I’ve never really written something like this before, so please keep that in mind 😭

Idk if this would be considered an m!reader thingy, but the character in first person is a male! I hope that makes sense 😞

——————————————————————————

All it took was the contact we made between our eyes, which ironically enough are also polar opposites.

Outside of my apartment complex stands a statue probably about a billion years old, it’s completely abandoned but it works as a perfect escape for when the world comes crashing down. I go there nearly every day, it’s really the only physical place I can go when shit gets rough at home. I can’t help but feel trapped in my own house whenever my parents have their little arguments, it’s like they forget they even have a kid. Today they started arguing because the dishes weren’t done, and somehow that just set off all of the missles in my mother’s heart, she snapped. So that’s why I’ve decided to go to the statue today, it’s my safe space when I don’t have one.

The area around me is swollen with plants, dark green vines wrapped around the chipped stone i sit on. As I’m walking down and pass the grassy corner I come to a sudden stop when I hear familiar footsteps around my spot. I slowly step forward and peek around to see a beautiful boy, around my age. His pretty brown hair is emphasized by the sunlight, and his heartstopping eyes are as well. I recognize him as the boy who lives down the hall, I’ve seen him a few times when I’ve had to leave the house. We’ve never spoke other than a simple “hey” or “hi”

“Hello? Hi sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

I quickly apologized before turning around. As I take my first step forward I hear his soothing voice.

“No, no you’re okay. I’m just taking pictures of the area. Do you want to join me?”

“If that wouldn’t be an issue, then yeah. I just need to get out of the house for a minute, you know?”

He watches me as I sit down, then he sits down next to me while he lowers his camera to his side. I can tell he’s as awkward as me, he’s just better at hiding it than I am.

“My name’s Nick, Nick sturniolo. What’s yours?”

“Oh, uh. My name is Jakson. Spelt J-A-K. You can just call me Jak though if you’d prefer.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jak.”

“Nice to meet you too, Nick”

with a smile across my face i look over to my right jacket pocket and pull out a lighter. I looked at him and gestured towards it, offering him a hit. He nods his head and says “Sure, why not. I’m not doing anything later anyway.” I hand him my lighter, then I hand him a joint that I pulled out of my pocket along with the lighter.

“But I could tell that something had changed how you looked at me then.”

Minutes turn into hours, hours turn into four more. Throughout our sesh we shared our reasoning for hanging out here so often. His surprised me, I didn’t expect him to be a triplet, let alone the oldest. He explained to me in full depth that he comes out here whenever his brothers get to be too obnoxious, or whenever he doesn’t want to participate in one of their stupid joke arguments. He told me that he loves them very much, he just needs some time for him self as well. I didn’t know somebody could understand me that well.

“And I’m taking pictures of you with flowers on the wall.”

As time goes by, my head ends up on his thighs. My head resting on him while we watch the stars together. He let out a soft giggle whenever I’d point out a constellation or a shooting star, and for some reason that made both myself and my heart happy. Being with him made my heart skip a beat everytime he spoke. I never knew it was possible to become so close to someone in only a day. I looked back up at him, and he looked down at me. He let out a smile, so I did too.

God, my heart was racing so fast. You guys just met, and you’re already each other’s only friend. Is it shameful to have these thoughts about some boy you’ve only seen in a hallway before this? Before I could continue thinking, he placed his hand on my head and gently stroked my head with that grin on his face. He kept eye contact with me, and put his other hand on my head as well.

I think I’ve finally fallen for somebody.

“Think I like you best when you’re just with me, and no one else.”

After a long while the sun starts to come up, but I’m still rested on his lap. He looked down at me, I looked back up at him.

nick holds my face tight and gently presses his soft lips against mine, leaving me no time to react. Not that I needed to react, he’s so heavenly. He grabs my hand and stands up so I stood up with him. I can tell he wants to say something, but his face shows his thoughts are jumbled.

“Could I get your number? I think we should come out here again and hangout. Next time I’ll bring a blanket and snacks if we’re out here for that long again.”

“Oh definitely. My number is (xxx)xxx-xxxx. Feel free to text me anytime you want, boy. I’ll always be available for you.”

we walked up to the apartment building together, he made sure I got home safe. Before i walked inside of my house I made sure to smile and wave. I waited until he had walked away to shut the door.

I made my way back to my bedroom and passed out asleep the moment I hit my mattresses. I love this boy.

——————————————————————————

HIII thanks for reading 🫶

I’m so sorry if this is bad, I really only write poems and I’m dyslexic as hell. I just wanted to write something for the first time and see how it went.

Please do not criticize this in the replies, I’m overly sensitive and will take it to heart 😭. /gen

————

@inlovewithmattstur lord how do you write so fast.

[givethemsmut]

The Pack | Chapter One

Characters: Dylan O’Brien, fem!reader

Pairing: Dylan O’Brien, Dylan x You

Every female on the planet wanted a reason to be close to the actors on the hit TV show, Teen Wolf, except me.

I don’t dig wolves. Now some hot vampires? All day.

My dad loves producing so much that he was constantly trying to get me to join him on set in any shape of form. He wanted me to love his vice just as much as him so I would understand abandoning his entire life it. But I didn’t want to act or produce, I wanted to throw myself into college so I could figure it out.

The easiest choice would be the medical field… for so many reasons… but that felt like salt in my very much open wounds.

Twenty-three, living at home with my dad, while trying to forgive him should have been a course I signed up for in college. Instead I got to feel awkward being the light of his life. It wasn’t all bad - he was barely home and I got free rein over my life.

Sleeping in was the best part of not having class. It was just past noon when I dragged myself downstairs at the allure of the coffee pot. I had it set for noon just so I wouldn’t sleep my life away. I didn’t even notice my dad in the corner of the room, at the large dinning room table we never used, busy on his iPad.

“Sleeping in again? Another finger pointing to you coming to work for me.” He didn’t even look up at me when he talked, neck deep in his night shoot edits.

This was a constant battle we waged. “Dad, I have school full time. I don’t have time to come play on set with you.”

He sighed almost defeated for the day on the topic, “only girl in the world who doesn’t want to be on the Teen Wolf set.”

Laughing to myself I didn’t relish being some kind of gatekeeper. Every one of my friends had asked every question you could think of about the show’s star: Tyler Posey but I had no answers. My dad hit the nail on the head.

“That’s because I’m a beautiful, unique snowflake. Who knows? Maybe you’ll get lucky and I’ll surprise you for your birthday next week.”

We both knew I wouldn’t crack so easy. So happens that fate had other plans for me and my boundaries.

The following week my dad left his wallet and house keys at home which honestly wasn’t strange. He was constantly forgetting the essentials. He would buy conditioner without buying shampoo. He would invite you to lunch just to forget his wallet. He would blame being on set when part of me believe he was just that absent minded.

I was casted to the forgot parts of his brain the same way.

He texted me go bring them to set for him which was fine because my lecture was over early and I had zero weekend plans.

Being on the lot reminded me a lot of my mom. We had a bond because of this lot that kept her King and my keeper from us. We would make our own adventures, explore and pretend to be other people all day while he worked tirelessly.

Until she couldn’t pretend anymore. That was when she decided my dad loved his work more than her. That betrayal extended to me when she moved us into another house, quietly divorcing him and securing half of everything just to make sure we survived.

Everyone called her the gold digging failed artist. Everyone called me a spoiled brat.

I snapped out of my thoughts when the guard handed me my ID back through the car window printing the gate to lifted to let me in. With a big inhale I could almost smell her perfume again, earthy and seductive. Pulling through the stages I found him in the same place he always was, back of the lot, taking up the most space.

I breezed in like I, in fact, owned it. Snatching my sunglasses off my face I found my dad coaching the star through the scene with too much passion. “You love her! I need to see that protective side, Ty. That need. That sacrifice. This isn’t some crush but the mate you’ll have forever.”

She needed that side of my dad when she was dying of cancer alone in a big house without her husband.

“Dad. Keys and wallet?” Turning around he took his belongings from my hands and attempted to awkwardly hug me when it failed.

Shifting my eyes I could feel Tyler digging his gaze into me even deeper. He was wondering why he hadn’t seen me until now, if I was some hostage, if I was absent for a reason. I could see the gears shifting behind his eyes.

Beaming my dad’s hand hovered along my spine as he introduced me, “Tyler, this is my daughter. And a hero. Now I can order sushi.”

Tyler laughed and went back to rehearsal with a couple girls whom I can only assume are in the show too. I told my dad, “Well. I’m gonna get going. I’m gonna see if Alex wants to hang. Maybe a frat party is happening.”

My dad pulled over the chair that was already near him, “We’re about to start. You can’t leave yet.”

So that’s how he was going to force me to be here, cool.

I dropped my head as let my bag drop on the floor loudly, purposely, and I watched the cast hit their marks before a clear action was shouted. I couldn’t deny a shirtless Tyler Posey was easy on the eyes for sure. The scene was dark, emotional and ended with a kiss. Even someone who didn’t watch the show, like me, could feel the impact of the episode. After the director yelled cut my dad started speaking again, “I’ll be home late okay? I have a date right after this. That’s why I really needed my wallet and keys.”

I was shocked. I had a million questions. “Wait, excuse me? You’re dating now? How did you meet? Who is she? Where are you going?”

He laughed, “I downloaded a dating app. Okay? I’m going go to Don Antonio’s with her. She’s a nurse. Busy like me so she should understand how it is.”

Being excited for my dad was one thing, finally he wouldn’t be alone yet I couldn’t help but hate him for it. A part of me expected him to pin for my mother his whole life.

I gave him a giant hug before I told him I was taking off but he held me tighter while saying, “You may be over 18 but I sure as shit will ground you, take your phone and car if I found out you went to a frat party with Alex. Have a great night at home with Netflix’s!”

We both laughed, he trusted me and for good reason.

I was still a virgin. Which was rare for a kid in LA let alone an industry parent.

I grabbed my bag and headed for my car before they locked me in silence with another take or scene. On my way out I crashed into a hard body who apologized immediately, “Shit. I’m sorry. I was rushing. I’m late.”

I nodded signaling it was okay but that didn’t stop him from shouting after me when I walked away. “Hey! Are you new? Do I know?”

I stopped walking backwards while answering, “Nah. Just stopping by. Visiting someone.” With that being all I said I opened my door and smiled before getting in.

.

I knew I wanted to make myself invisible incase my dad came home with his date. It’s not the cool thing to do when you have to introduce your adult age kid after a good meal and before making out.

After I got home from the lot I texted Brody to come over for while. I don’t know how to describe that relationship at all. I’ve known him since we were 5 years old and we were always friends but when we started dating - everything changed.

He was very cute and accessible. All innocent until high school when hormones came into play. We had done everything but go all the way. Lately that wasn’t enough for him…

He came through the door without knocking carrying some beer while I stood at the counter pouring my wine. I felt him push against me, kissing my neck while I pushed the cork in the mouth again.

“Hey beautiful. How was class?”

Brody graduated two years before me and already had a job as a business consultant for a popular firm who advises people on how to be successful, handling money and recruiting for them.

He was stable. He was hot. He was older.

I was feeling frustrated as I took my very full cup of wine and dragged him upstairs behind me by the hand to my bedroom. Every time we were alone with alcohol I always contemplated that I would have the courage to go all the way with him.

Being a virgin still shows anyone how well that went. We got comfortable on my bed fitting like puzzle pieces as I scrolled through Netflix for over 10 minuets searching for the perfect movie.

I felt his hand on my thigh, slightly rubbing as his lips crashed against the side of my face. He felt comfortable so I don’t know why I wouldn’t give in.

I felt his familiar lips against mine and our warm tongues touch. He pulled off his shirt and his husky voice crashed into me, “Take this off baby.”

It was déjà vu all over again. Every time we were alone it was a replay of the same events. There wasn’t any feelings, not the way the movies shaped my expectations.

As he kissed my neck he whispered, “Come on baby. You’re dad isn’t home. Just take off your panties.”

His kisses felt good but not convincing. I whispered his name when I felt his fingers lace inside my panties as he tugged them down my legs.

We fooled around before, he had seen every inch. We kept kissing with our tongues and I felt his body settle between my legs. Reaching for his wallet and he pulled out a condom before his mouth collided with mine again. Pressing my palms again his chest, gently giving myself space, enough to decide on no.

I whispered again, “Brody. I’m not ready. I’m sorry.”

I felt his felt him tense at the rejection, “Why are you being a fucking bitch? How long are we gonna keep playing this game? I’ve seen you naked, I’ve licked your pussy, we’ve showered together.”

His warmth on top of me left as he sat as it came when he pushed his legs off the edge of my bed to put his shoes on. I didn’t even walk him out.

D Y L A N P O V

She smelt like butter and home. She felt safe. She was the most beautiful, sarcastic, tiny firecracker I’ve ever met.

We met on the set of a movie called The First Time back in 2011 and been together ever since. She just got back from Canada filming a TV show Girl Boss for the last 3 months and I couldn’t wait to have her myself.

We both had our own places with our own roommates but we wanted as much time together so she was crashing in my room. And let’s be real, I hadn’t had sex since she left months ago.

She was straddling my legs in her panties and nothing else as I coaxed her out of them. Her hips were rocking over my crotch as she leaned down to kiss me.

Sex was never our problem. We met and practically fell into bed together. Pushing her down onto the bed below me as I pushed myself further between her legs. She felt every inch of my excitement caress her thigh.

I kissed her chest and neck, every exposed inch when my head flicked up at the sound of her phone loudly alerting her she had a text. We both ignored it as I pulled my shirt off.

Another ping. We ignored it again.

I saw her look over almost like she expected a text but couldn’t get to it. Her face went from ecstasy to disappointment. Looking down at her, “We good babe?”

She shook her head, “Yeah, yeah, we’re good. Okay I’m ready, Dylan.”

On my knees, my hands smoothed up her legs until my fingers laced into the straps of her panties. Pulling them down was too easy when I got a glimpse of her wet pussy.

Ping. Ping.

Exhaling loudly, stopping to grab her phone off the night stand I had lost focus enough times to get annoyed. I was going to put it on do not disturb but the texts content was right there on the lock screen.

“Did your flight land? Can’t wait to see you ;)” “He can wait until after I see you first.” “Meet me at my place. I miss that little body.” “Ditch Dylan.”

I felt my heart stop.

Pushing myself to the edge of the bed I contemplated if I was dreaming. Did I fall asleep and have some kind nightmare? Britt, my girlfriend of 6 years was cheating and me. I had proof. I threw her phone across the room in her silence letting it crash against the wall.

She tried to touch my shoulders from behind, on her knees, forcing me to jump up. Pacing I pointed towards my bedroom door. “Get the fuck out. Get out.” She tried to touch me again but I pulled myself away quickly. “Go! Get out of my face!”

All she could say, “Dyl. Baby. Don’t be mad. I can explain. It was a mistake. Just one mistake.”

I was pacing, arms not able to stay by my side and I couldn’t even look at her. “How can you explain that? It’s pretty fucking clear!” She started getting dressed giving up explaining.

As she got dressed she said, “It was one mistake, Dyl. We were apart so long. We were just friends I swear! Please forgive me.” She picked up her phone and jacket to leave. She stood against me best she could at her short height, kissing my chest and still apologizing before exiting my room.

A party couldn’t have came at a better time. I was ready to get wasted. My only hope was that Posey heard everything and would be there as she walked out. His disappointment was damning when he wanted it to be.

[nistley]

An Isekai anime that doesn't use only stereotyping is refreshing!

(as a woman it’s nice to not roll my eyes or sigh for every panty shot or normalized sexual harassment behavior from the male hero)

Suzune and Ryusen relantionship

One of my favorite : Yes, Woman and man can spend time together and being friends. It is nice to enjoy time with a colleague.

(well, we don’t know for sure if their relantionship will evolve. Ship them if you want. For now my ace heart was pleased).

Multidimensional characters are what I crave !

Within 5 minutes of the episode we have three stereotypes :

- Genious student council president : smart, team leadar, sportive … : Suzune

- Smart, capable and composed student council vice-president : Ryusen

- normal guy : Usato

Don't get me wrong, clichés and stereotypes are useful. They give you a sense of knowledge and help you get into the story more easily.

Although when someone is only the "funny guy/girl" who is a cute and silly cinnamon roll for 10 episodes. Then, say an inspirational quote for the last episode, it is a frustrating and quite boring experience.

That’s why, when the magic circle appeared I was happily surprised.

Ryusen is freaking out. Usato is surprised but almost chill and Suzune is really excited about the event

That’s the moment, I said to myself, it might be interesting.

Usato has empathy and is attentive to his surrondings (I link it to the bird scene). Before saying Ryusen as to calm down, Usato acknowlegdes his anger and makes him understand that it is not a good option for them.

Like in real life, only shooting to someone to stop is often not effective, but if you add emotion (by example : « you seem hurt let’s discuss about it » or « you are right to be angry but it’s not my fault » …) you create a space for both your emotion to connect (at least in my real life experience maybe their is an on/off bouton I haven’t discovered yet).

THIS, THIS !

Am I too old ? Is the world a better place now for teenagers ? (calm down. I am not your mom, I am only in my late-twenties) ,or I have watched too many crappy or clichéd anime.

Simply, two guys checking how they are feeling. « Like, are you alright dude ? I am pretty angry to be here. How about you ? ».

No stupid joke, nothing pervy about the magician « nun outfit » (I don’t mak judgmenys, she is rocking this outfit).It feels realistic. Amazing.

To sum up, I enjoyed being surprised. I have watched countless anime for years and more often than not you can predict what will happen or what characters will say. I know I am not the only one. Sadly we are not super human, it is the source material which is poor.

Suzune is not the « Damsel in distress » or the nurse / the one caring for the guys . In fact she is the main character in spirit. Usato and Ryusen are bonding over their insecurities about being

thrown out into another world (in opposition to Suzune who is living her best life).

Additionally, I am sick and tired of genre stereotypes. . Woman as to be gentle, elegant, weak … Man have to be strong, fearless, insensitve …

It doesn’t seem like it in this anime, I have hope 

[srhunt]

Resident Evil 4: Who is the Merchant?

One of my favorite characters in Resident Evil 4 is the Merchant. From his shady design to him asking “what’re ya buyin?”, he’s just a fun and interesting character. He’s not very fleshed out, we hardly know anything about him. But seeing that blue/purple flame is always a comfort knowing that the Merchant will offer me a safe space to catch my breath.

As with any character shrouded in mystery, lots of people like to theorize about who the Merchant is. Some of these theories are better than others, so I wanna do a quick speed run of a few I’ve heard and then offer my own.

He’s Luis’ Grandfather: Probably the most outlandish one I’ve heard. No matter which version of RE4 you look at, both state that Luis’ grandfather is dead. Unless y’all are suggesting that he’s the ghost of Luis’ grandfather which would explain how he moves so quickly from spot to spot.

He’s a Ganado: This one I sort of believe a bit more than the first one. Evidence that he might be a Ganado is that at different points of OG RE4, his eyes randomly start glowing red. It’s really creepy if you don’t expect it. At night, the Ganados eyes also glow red. But I feel like the remake disproves this idea with the use of the blue flames. The blue flames have the power to freeze plaga, as seen with the Armadura (the Knights). The Merchant has always had a blue flame near him. The remake changes his main flames to purple, but he still has a blue flame lantern on his table. I feel like he uses that as protection from las Plagas.

Now onto my own theory;

The Merchant is a rebel against Los Illuminados.

Not in the sense that he’s gonna sneak in to kill Saddler himself, but in the sense that he only deals weapons to people who are also against the Illuminados.

The Merchant, though very knowledgeable on weapons, is not much of a fighter. If you bring any enemies near him, he will throw his hands up in a defensive position and won’t talk to you until they’re gone. Why doesn’t he pull out one of his various guns to help Leon? Because that’s not how he rolls. He’s more like the Q to Leon’s Bond.

The remake doesn’t offer a ton of new info on the Merchant, but it does give us some insight on how he feels about the Illuminados through his requests.

In his request fliers, he describes Los Illuminados as “religious lunatics”, an “evil” and “blasted cult”. He calls the blue medallions “wretched things” and wants them gone. He deems anyone who joins the cult as “traitors”.

More evidence that he’s against the Illuminados comes from something he says right before you fight the final boss.

“I can hardly contain myself! You're really gonna do it, stranger!”

He’s giddy over the fact you’re about to go kill Saddler and destroy the cult once and for all.

Even going back to the original, his shooting gallery featured Ganados as targets. It’s not that strong of evidence, but it’s worth noting.

He specifically has a hatred for Ramón, the one who single handedly ruined the efforts of generations of Salazars to keep las Plagas sealed underground. In his request called “The Disgrace of the Salazar Family”, he calls Ramón “detestable” and wants the portrait of him in the throne room defaced. You can’t damage this portrait with any weapons, so you chuck an egg at it. It’s a very small act of petty revenge, but it’s one that hits Ramón where it hurts. Ramón has a very fragile ego, getting violent towards anyone who mocks him. So someone coming in and smashing an egg onto his portrait is bound to make him furious. This hatred is even present in the original game as the Merchant has a target of Ramón in his shooting gallery, and you get the most points for destroying it.

Some people say that the Merchant is only looking out for himself and will sell to anyone, hinting that he might’ve sold the Illuminados RPGs and other weapons towards the end of the game. But I think it’s safe to say that based on how he talks about them in his requests that he would not do business with anyone associated with the Illuminados. (It’s probably why we never see him do business with Luis. Even though he no longer works for the Illuminados, he did at one point and the Merchant can’t trust him.)

In fact, I believe that they didn’t get the weapons from him, but that he got the weapons from them. What better way to fight the Illuminados than to steal their weapons and sell them to people willing to use those weapons against them?

“Why doesn’t he just give you the weapons for free then?” He’s still a merchant. Man’s gotta make a living. When 99% of the folks around you work for the enemy, it doesn’t leave a ton of people to do business with. Leon and Ada are probably the only sane customers he’s seen in a long time.

Another thing we can pick up on is that the Merchant might not be working alone. A few of his lines include the words, “we” and “our”.

"We've been saving that one for the right customer!"

"We're starting to get an idea of your tastes, friend."

“You've exhausted our normal range of services for this weapon.”

I don’t believe he’s using it in the royal way, because he uses those words sparingly. He still uses “I” and “me” when talking about himself. So it’s possible that he does have other people working with him. Maybe they’re the ones who take the weapons from the Illuminados. If the Merchant isn’t much of a fighter, he’d be the wrong person to send into the lion’s den to steal weapons. What if he got caught? So it’s possible that he has a network of spies who confiscate weapons from the Illuminados and bring them back to the Merchant to sell to other rebels.

In the Grave Robber request, the Merchant calls the twins “traitors” for joining the cult. Is it possible that these twins were once part of the Merchant’s network of rebels but then either got caught and infected with the plaga or converted of their own free will?

Another piece of evidence that the Merchant isn’t working alone comes from Resident Evil Village. The Duke, the merchant of that game, quotes the RE4 Merchant;

“What're ya buyin?—Haha, just something an old friend of mine used to say."

An “old friend”, he says. Could it be that the Duke and the Merchant worked together to undermine the Illuminados, eventually parting ways after Saddler’s defeat?

So the TL;DR is that I believe the Merchant is a part of a resistance against Los Illuminados. He has a burning hatred for the cult and anyone associated with it. He is not much of a fighter, so he does what he’s best at; BUSINESS!! He gets his wares from allies who steal from the Illuminados’ supply, which is how he met the Duke. Once he has the merchandise, he sells them to people who are also against the Illuminados. He even sets up a free shooting gallery so that his customers can practice their aim. What good is it to sell guns to folks with terrible aim, right? After Saddler’s defeat, the resistance disbanded, and the Merchant returns home.

But hey, that’s just a theory. 😉

[whamgram]

It needs to be said Under My Skin is the best Radiobelle fanfic I have read so far! Everything in it is a 10 for 10 the characterization the plot, the slow burning romance it’s just so good the latest chapter had me somewhere between cackling, with giddy enjoyment and incoherently squealing at everything that happened.

Firstly, let me just say, Alastor’s mini shadow minions cuddling, and loving on Charlie was pure genius. It’s like he can’t be honest with himself so his powers find another way to release those feelings, and once again, it is thrust into his face how he really feels. Then the ending with the delivery with the flowers and him destroying the delivery man’s truck quite possibly killing the delivery man. Clearly, he’s never heard the term don’t shoot the messenger shoot the sender. His jealousy is definitely believable. We see it as clear as day because we’re getting a glimpse into his feelings, but he reacts to it subtly when other characters are around so they don’t take notice.

Now, for Vox’s scheming I like how you didn’t make Charlie, so naive as to believe that they wanted to sponsor the hotel without something in it for the vee’s. It was definitely a nice touch and refreshing to see Charlie being kind but not stupid. I feel like a lot of people don’t understand that just because a person is naïve does not mean that they’re stupid. Meanwhile Vox is trying to be cunning, but he can’t hide his physical reactions towards his animosity with Alastor but at the same time he subtly invades Charlie’s personal space not enough send her running for the hills but enough to give off a false sense of charming not that Charlie is fooled by it she’s obviously weirded out by his attempts. It’s clear that he wants to achieve something, but as what it is at the moment, I’m not entirely too sure he could be planning to put a false story out there of himself charming hell’s princess, in order to get under Alastor’s skin. But that’s just a guess. I feel like that’s not it though because it’s too obvious. I can’t wait to see Lucifer‘s reaction to all this because it seems like he knows something is brewing. He’s just not clear on what it is yet. And I’m all too eager to see Alastor lose his temper again

The sparring oh my God, the sporing was everything I hoped for and more it was just delicious just everything about it the mood, the tone, the teasing the banter that was just right and the the unintentional striptease!!! I had to be revived while reading the striptease! How did Alistair not realize that Charlie bit her lip so hard that she cut it? Alastor I understand you’re a massive emotion and you’re sweating through your feelings but you’ve got to pay attention. Your woman is literally thirsting over you. I also love that he’s training Charlie, because I feel like it adds to him saying what he said before about her having potential that he can guide.

My theory is on the awkward Boner tag is that it’s gonna happen if/ when Charlie loses her shit over something because he already checked her out before when she went into her full demon form over, losing her temper about the whole Gloryhole situation. But that was just her losing her temper for a quick second, if she were to actually harness that anger towards a person I think Alastor will be like Oh. Oh deer I need to excuse myself for a quick moment. All in all the chapter was fantastic. The whole story I could read four times and read it again it’s just so good may you continue to write I can’t wait to see what chapter 13 holds.

Oh my gosh, thank you so much! 🥰 This message has made my entire week!

I’m so glad you liked the cuddly shadowy minions! I just loved the idea of Alastor losing control over parts of himself because of his growing feelings for Charlie. He’s a guy who’s always in control of his emotions but he’s never had to deal with these types of emotions before. And he’s very ill-equipped to do so. That also causes these bouts of anger and jealousy that he also can’t control. It’s all he can manage to at least have these outbursts in private.

I agree about Charlie’s naivety! She’s kind and overly trusting but she’s not stupid. She’s willing to give Vox a chance because she’s willing to give everyone a chance. But she definitely went into the meeting feeling cautious and also picked up on his bad vibes. Plus Vox was very much trying to charm her in the same way Alastor does and she was like “Mmm no, that only works on me when Alastor does it.” 😉

I love the “training together” trope and couldn’t wait to write it for Charlie and Alastor! So much delicious potential for banter and sexual tension. 😏 And Alastor was too busy fuming over the insinuation that he lost to Adam because of his fancy clothes (which of course Charlie doesn’t actually think), that he totally didn’t notice her undressing the rest of him with her eyes.

You are very close about the awkward boner tag. 😉 I’ll just say it’s coming up soon.

[bnha-imagines-only]

Could you do Headcanons for

Sero

Midoriya

Bakugou

When they get into an argument with their s/o? (+ apologizing)?

A/N: Thank you for requesting! :)

CW: General Light Angst, Arguments, Cursing (Bakugou); spoilers for the sports festival arc and slight spoilers for an interaction Izuku has with Mei.

Characters x GN!Reader: Hanta Sero, Izuku Midoriya, and Katsuki Bakugou

• The argument takes place after Sero’s—what he would call “embarrassingly fast”—loss against Todoroki in the school sports festival.

• He practically rushes past you as he exits the locker room, face in a deep scowl, his cheeks red and his eyes downcast to the floor.

• You call his name, jogging to catch up, and as you do he whirls on you. “Can’t you see I want to be left alone?” Sero snips, angrily shoving his hands in his pockets.

• You falter, knowing he’s in a bad spot right now, considering his match. “I just came to check on you,” you say, tone still soft. Sero scrunches his face, “I’ll get over it myself, I don’t need you always underfoot.”

• “Always underfoot?” That starts it. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Soon you’re snapping at each other in the fortunately deserted hallway, about how he doesn’t always need your help and he’s not some helpless baby—and about how he’s being a giant jerk when you’d only tried to come comfort him like any significant other would do. Things are said, accusations made: you’re suffocating him, he never gets any space.

• It doesn’t get much more heated than that before the pair of you mutually storm off, angry and frustrated.

• You watch the rest of the sports festival, tears brimming in your eyes, angry with your boyfriend. He wants space? Fine, you’ll give him space.

…

• Sero has tried to catch you after classes let out twice already before he finally manages to catch you leaving, shooting tape across one of the doors to slow you down (to several protests of annoyance from other students, who then had to pivot and use a different doorway).

• You stay put, narrowing your eyes at Sero in a petulant glare. “Now look who’s underfoot.”

• Sero winces, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way. I didn’t mean it. I was so mad at myself for looking stupid in front of everyone—in front of you—that I said really nasty stuff that I don’t even believe. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you to apologize, but you keep dodging me and avoiding my calls.”

• You weren’t letting him off that easy. “You said you wanted space, so I gave you space!”

• “I don’t,” Sero moves forward to take your hand. “I was too caught up in my hurt ego. I wanted you to be proud of me and I was a huge buffoon out there. I didn’t want you to see me like that and I lashed out. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

• You two go on a park date and have a heartfelt talk about his insecurities and how as his partner, you want to be there for him when he’s having a hard time. If he needs time or some space to think about things and process on his own that’s fine, but he can’t lash out at you.

• All in all, arguments with Sero are uncommon. He is still sometimes insecure about his quirk and capabilities in comparison to his peers, but he grows to lean on your support more, and it’s a blip in an otherwise well balanced relationship.

• “You can’t seriously think that as your partner, I’m fine with all these girls fawning all over you!” Midoriya might not have started this argument on purpose, but it’s been a long while coming.

• Your boyfriend has a keen eye for detail—the keenest—so at some point, his denial that all these girls are into him becomes infuriating. And it’s not that he can help the fact that other girls find him cute or charming, it’s the way he makes you think you’re overreacting or imagining things.

• Maybe it’s the whole reasonable, doting boyfriend way he goes about it that makes you more mad than anything he actually did—like you’re out of control angry and he’s so put together and polite.

• “I really think you’re blowing this out of proportion,” Midoriya says. “She fell on me. It wasn’t on purpose. And you know I only have eyes for you anyway.”

• Referencing Mei Hatsume, your face goes red, “Her hands were all over you when fitting you for attachments! Even if you don’t think she was flirting, can’t you tell someone else shouldn’t so casually be all over you! It should bother you when people are overly familiar and touchy-feely, and I’m not blowing things out of proportion just because it bothers me!”

• Frustrated, you depart, your flustered and upset boyfriend left behind in your wake.

…

• Izuku seeks you out to apologize. When you open your door to see him, you let out a gruff sigh, still annoyed.

• He comes bearing gifts. He conferred with a panel of the people in his life—not the girls, because in part he’s afraid of hurting your feelings any further. He has a small bouquet of flowers and a gift bag intended to make you feel better.

• He’s looking particularly disheveled, because he has been worrying over this apology since the moment you’d left.

• “I’ll do a better job of setting boundaries with people, of making sure they know that I’m in a relationship and off the market, of validating your feelings if someone crosses the line,” he blurts as soon as you open the door. “I’m so, so sorry!”

• You’re a little stunned, but he seems genuine, so you let him in to further discuss the problem. You reiterate that while he can’t help if people develop crushes on him, it hurts your feelings when he is nonchalant about people touching all over him, and it hurts your feelings further when you’re treated like you’re overreacting about it when you get mad.

• He keeps apologizing to the point you have to have mercy on the poor boy and tell him you forgive him, and then you settle in to watch a movie and cuddle. It’s a marvel movie, his favorite.

• He does get better at the boundaries thing with practice! Especially as he goes on to become a pro, making you feel valued and secure in your relationship goes a long way.

• You aren’t so much arguing with Bakugou as you are caught in the crossfire of his temper. While he had never been mean to you, even prior to him asking you out, you had heard about his infamous temperament.

• You’re spending time together in his home—His parents love you, the only person that their son seems to more or less censor himself around.

• Secretly, your classmates wonder what you see in him as a partner. Everyone finds him difficult to work with (especially in his early time in UA) but he’s absolutely in control of himself when he wants to be, and he doesn’t see you as a threat for the number one hero spot. He likes that you tolerate his reputation, and he can stand your company, so aside from being boisterous and a bit of a brat, you wouldn’t consider him mean.

• It’s early in the relationship, and you ask what you thought was an innocent enough question. “How come we never, like, hold hands in the hallway?”

• You meant it innocently enough; some people are just funny about PDA. Unfortunately, you stumbled onto a large insecurity of his, and on top of that he’d already had a stressful/irritating week.

• He blows up at you literally. Shouting about you and your damn stupid, embarrassing questions and don’t you know he’s too busy for this shit. His hands set off small explosions balled in fists at his side, he flares his nostrils, red eyes glaring—the whole shebang.

• For a second, you stand there in shock, and then the tears start and you’re racing out of his room and headed home.

…

• While the other boys hunt you down at their next reasonable opportunity, Bakugou is literally sprinting after you down the street afterward. It’s borderline comical, and were he not in his own neighborhood where people know and fear him, it lowkey looks like an attempted kidnapping.

• “Wait!” Bakugou calls out after you, sneakers thudding swiftly along the pavement as your pace quickens, angry and hurt by his behavior. “Wait, fuck, fuck!” So you were angrily speed-walking home and all of a sudden he’s got you by the waist, spinning you around and holding you by the hips.

• “I didn’t mean it like that!” He is the worst at apologizing. One day he’ll get the hang of it, but early on he is so terrible at saying the actual word sorry. “Come back, let’s talk, let me try again.”

• It’s convincing enough that you go back, sitting on his bed while he admits that he was having a bad day and popped off on something that generally concerned him—whether you would like holding his hand, because he thinks that you’ll think he’s too sweaty or that he won’t do it well.

• Meanwhile you, still teary-eyed, try to address his obvious insecurities: you think his quirk is amazing, everyone is nervous to try new couple stuff in the beginning, you can practice in private first where the pressure is off if he’d like. But most importantly, you know sometimes he expresses himself by yelling and cursing, but he doesn’t get to yell and curse at you.

• He agrees. He thanks you for letting him try again.

• Throughout your relationship, he definitely still yells and curses at other things—classmates, traffic, this damn video game level he can’t beat—but he’s good on his word. ‘Trying again’ becomes a pretty good system for you, if his temper flares—before he can say something stupid or shout about it—he’ll ask for a minute to redirect that impulse and try again.

…

Thank you so much for the request! 🥰

[jgroffdaily]

Excerpts:

It’s a personal story for Groff, who relates to Frank’s interior life and how others (don’t) respond to his struggles. For example, his showbiz peers suggest he take a vacation in response to a tearful breakdown. “No one wants to really make space for Frank’s darkness or his pain…that feels so familiar to me,” Groff says. “It feels very gay. And then there’s also something about it that feels quite American of like, just…take a little trip, and then you’ll come back, and you work, and everything will be fine. But there’s not a real investigation of sadness or despair.”

Merrily is personal by design — for actors and audience members alike. Groff quotes the musical’s producer, Sonia Friedman (and sister to Merrily’s director, Maria Friedman): “There are certain shows that are beyond theater, and this is one of them where you want the audience to follow the characters’ stories. But you want them to also reflect on their own lives as well as this, because [the show] keeps saying, how did you get to be here?”

It’s a question that Groff contemplates as he journeys backward in time each night at the Hudson Theatre. Like Frank, the 39-year-old has two decades of career and adulthood to reflect upon. He marvels how the teen reading a Sondheim biography in front of his high school science fair project went on to garner three Tony nominations (for Merrily this year, Melchior in Spring Awakening in 2007, and King George III in Hamilton in 2016), voice Kristoff and Sven in Disney’s hit Frozen films, and lead the groundbreaking HBO dramedy Looking as Patrick.

Outside the spheres of musical films and theater, Groff has broken ground as a gay actor by starring in the Netflix crime thriller Mindhunter as Holden Ford and in The Matrix Resurrections as Smith. He was also a lead in M. Night Shyamalan’s Knock at the Cabin last year and will appear in the new season of Doctor Who — starring Ncuti Gatwa as the first Black queer star of the long-running British sci-fi series. “He’s a supernova of talent,” Groff sings of Gatwa; an It’s a Sin fan, he also jumped at the chance to work with Russell T Davies after the showrunner personally invited him to join the season.

This enviable acting career is not what Groff envisioned when he came out publicly in 2009 in an interview with Broadway.com. “I would rather be myself and be in a relationship and not have that compromised by this career thing,” he recalls reasoning at the time — effectively choosing to be himself openly over the possibility of becoming a leading man.

“I felt like I was opting out of that [star] trajectory because of coming out,” he says. “And so everything that’s happened to me with the success of film and television has been a complete surprise to me because I thought…by coming out that that was impossible.”

Groff credits his coming out with saving him from becoming a Frank, who makes a devil’s bargain for material gain. In fact, by appearances, Groff is an anti-Frank. To wit, he arrives via bicycle to his Out photo shoot at the Duplex gay bar in the West Village. He says he even favors riding a bike to the theater each day over an offered car service. Later at Julius’ around the corner, he takes a bite (and then finishes) a burger prepared for a photo op, and then thanks the owner and chef by name. So not the stereotypical fame monster.

“Being gay has allowed me to forge my own path,” he attests. “I don’t feel at the mercy of the traditional Hollywood machine because I never really felt like I fit in there. That equation wasn’t where I lived. And so I’ve just been sort of over here following my artistic heart, which was a choice I made long, long ago. I sort of credit that for not buying into the stuff that Frank in the show kind of buys into.”

Groff calls his success in the entertainment industry “a lucky gift of timing,” noting how he came of age at a turning point for gay acceptance in America — and after the worst of the AIDS crisis in NYC. His speech following each Merrily performance helps raise funds for Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS, and it “means so much” to him because he is mindful of “all of the gays that came from small towns to move to New York to do theater and how many of them died.” Groff was born in Lancaster, Pa., and was raised amid Amish communities before pursuing his Broadway dreams in the Big Apple.

As a working out actor, “I feel so lucky and I feel some sense of responsibility, of really breathing it in and taking it in,” he confesses. “Even 10 years ago, I don’t know if I would have been cast in this role of Frank, ’cause even in theater, it’s such a straight character.… There’s also something that feels like a shift in the times that’s allowing me to play this role right now as well.”

His casting in such a diversity of roles on stage and screen “feels a part of this wave of progress of people being not only accepting of actors being out, but of actors being able to play multiple different things and not get so pigeonholed…. I’m so grateful to be living in this time.”

Like Patrick, Groff feels like he’s ready for love, in part because Merrily sparks “reflection and embracing an ownership of the past to cross through into the future.” By chance, the same night this writer saw Merrily in April, Groff’s first boyfriend, celebrating a birthday, was also in the audience.

Groff recalls how, at 3.5 years, this relationship remains his longest to date — and one that occurred at a crucial period in his career. Groff dated him from ages 19 to 23 when they were still closeted yet lived as roommates in midtown Manhattan. His ex, who he did not name, is a dancer who helped teach him the choreography for Fame at Crunch Fitness; Groff played Nick Piazza in a regional production at North Shore Music Theatre in Massachusetts. “I was so slow at picking up choreography,” he confesses. But the fancy footwork made a lasting impact. Fame led to Groff being signed by an agent, his membership in the Actors’ Equity Association, and his Broadway debut as an understudy for the lead role in 2005’s In My Life. A year later, he was appearing in Spring Awakening.

“There was something about having him at the show last night,” says Groff, calling it a “full-circle moment.” He adds, “I’ve been single now for a couple of years and I’m feeling…ready and open for anything. If that’s continuing with that, if that’s a relationship, I’m cool with that.”

In addition to the occurrence of a rare NYC earthquake, the day of this Out interview marked another fateful event: the 63rd anniversary of Barbra Streisand making her TV debut on The Tonight Show. Groff appeared on The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon to commemorate the occasion. But his Barbra standom doesn’t end there. The actor wants to one day buy a Village restaurant called & Son Steakeasy, which used to be the site of the Lion, a gay bar where Streisand first sang publicly during a singing contest (according to a plaque there, at least). His goal is “turning it back into a gay bar and calling it BARbra.” A neon “BARbra” sign even hangs in his Merrily dressing room as a reminder of this dream.

Other dreams are poised to come true as well. Merrily’s revival is one of the biggest hits on Broadway right now, boasting sold-out shows and one of the Great White Way’s highest ticket prices. It also received seven Tony nominations this year, among them nods for Groff, Radcliffe, and Mendez.

Groff has been Tony-nominated twice before, but the theater world’s highest honor has lost some of its luster from the days when, post-high school, he taught a class on the Tony Awards at a theater camp. (He’d show clips to his pupils and have them vote for Best Actress. Wicked and Avenue Q were contenders that year.)

“When I was a kid, the marker of success was like an Oscar or a Tony or like whatever the award was,” he says. “Now I understand 20 years later that that’s a fun part of the game of it all. But it’s not what makes your artistic heart sing.”

The eschewing of awards recognition is also very anti-Frank. However, Groff also recognizes the importance of a good speech, like the “beautiful and touching and inspirational” words for the LGBTQ+ community that Hamilton’s Lin-Manuel Miranda gave at the Tonys after the Pulse nightclub shooting. If he has the opportunity to give his own remarks onstage, “I’ll attempt to honor whatever is happening in that moment,” he promises.

For now, Groff feels like his character at the end of Merrily, as three starry-eyed young friends look to the skies and imagine what dreams may come. “We gotta be the luckiest people who ever lived,” he quotes.

“I feel that. I really like to be living in this time and working in this way,” he says. “It’s more than I ever could have dreamt of. And so I just wanna soak it in, take it in, and keep going.”

[moralesmilesanhour]

Show Me Ur Gen Fics! (please...)

Hey spiderverse enjoyers - both I and a few others as of recent have noticed that it's really difficult to find general (meaning non-ship) content for the spiderverse characters.

Aside from the fact that this genre just isn't as popular among readers (or writers for that matter), it's also difficult to search for. There's no specific tag for this sort of thing in the way that you can just search the name of a ship and easily come across what you're looking for.

Sooo...my suggestion is that we try to make this easier by creating a tag for it! Idk if this will work but I want to try 😭

If you see this and write spiderverse gen fics, feel free to put your work (new or pre-existing) under #spiderversegen (you can choose to put a space or not) or #atsvgen ! I will read it, and try to reblog as many as I can! If you don't want to do that you can also shoot me an ask with a link to ur fic and I'll reblog it with the tag myself :)

(Pls reblog so that this can circulate 🫶🏾)