#drawing what I want because I’m not a coward

[madbunnyarts]

Nothing to see here, just a man in the ocean-

Finished Version is Up!

[ddarker-dreams]

Redamancy.

Yan Scaramouche x F Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes and unhealthy relationships. Word count: 1k.

“You scowl too much.” 

If anyone else were to speak to Scaramouche, Sixth of the Eleven Fatui Harbinger in this way, they’d certainly be reduced to a pitiful pile of ash on the ground. Perhaps he’s thought about subjecting you to this fate, once or twice. That number could very well have been bumped up to three times if the indignant air he currently regards you with is to be considered. 

Then again, no one aside from you would get to experience this deceptively domestic scene. You sit beneath a canopy, branches free from winter’s thaw hastily preparing buds to herald in spring. Scaramouche holds your thighs captive, the soft flesh serving as his pillow. Indigo locks splay out against and tickle your skin. 

“There’s a lot to scowl about,” he replies, though he makes an effort to relax his tense facial muscles. The contemptuous smile he gives makes his previous expression look benevolent in comparison. “I’m stuck dealing with a fool of a woman who’d probably wander off a cliff because she was too busy admiring the clouds.” 

“Clouds are meant to be admired.” 

“Case in point.” 

“You make it sound like I’m chained to you with iron shackles, though,” you raise your ankle (notably shackle free, imagine that), drawing his attention and ire. Your sarcasm never fails to rile him up. He never seriously tries to put a stop to it, however. Such is his capricious nature. “If I’m such a bother, why not let me wander off the cliff?” 

Scaramouche grits his teeth. “Because…” 

There’s a pause, then, weighty and tangible. You know what he both wants and fears to say. If he were any less of a coward, he’d fill the aromatic air with truth, rather than engaging in his usual sidestepping. He’s so proficient at the act you swear he could moonlight as a crab. This mental image earns a barely contained giggle from you, one that further sours his mood, if such a thing were possible. 

Knowing you as intimately as he does, he correctly assumes that he’s the unwitting source of your amusement. 

“I can’t stand you,” he grumbles. Whether it’s to you or himself, you can’t decide. “Truly, I can't.” 

“Then hand me over to someone who can.” 

There’s a flash in his eyes then — otherworldly, malicious — he disregards composure like a snake abandons shed skin. He rises in a flash. Inhumanly cold fingers take your chin captive, bringing you closer to him, his delight in the ease with which he can manhandle you evident. Always the type to go for grand gestures, this one. His theatrical outbursts befit his moniker. 

Scaramouche grins, beset with an onslaught of bitterness akin to a black hole. It draws in and swallows anything unfortunate enough to be nearby. 

“You just love testing my patience, don’t you?” 

If you feared him, maybe you’d tremble, but you don’t, so you are still. It’s likely that you should fear him. He is volatile, a mess of contradictions too complicated to untangle, a vessel who fills himself with acrimony, the same way humans must with air. He delights in it and considers it his birthright. 

Your smile is not without kindness and that’s what bothers him most. 

“Come, don’t pout. I have no intentions of being complicit in whatever havoc you'd wreak if I was with another.” 

His eye twitches at the pesky word ‘another’. The mere thought of this faceless, nonexistent being having the audacity to lay claim to you, even in the land of fantasy, has his nostrils flaring and jaw tightening. You can see the ripple of muscles beneath his synthetic skin. He’s a wonder, this proprietorial doll, who can exalt and condemn you in the same breath. 

You are mine, and mine alone, his eyes seem to scream, and I’d sooner end the world than exist in it without having you for myself. 

“You really do scowl too much,” you reiterate your opinion from earlier, gently, almost sweetly. Whatever spell Scaramouche was under temporarily breaks, or perhaps he’s held prisoner to a new one, far more agreeable if not equally dangerous. “Your face is too pretty to always be frowning.” 

You enchant him by running your finger over his lower lip. It trembles by your command. His eyes go lidded, a lovelorn haze obscuring the former tempest. He can never decide if he wants to destroy or devour you. For someone like him, he can’t do one without the other. His love for you is a death sentence, despite the immortality that should’ve never belonged to your mortal body. 

It’s you who kisses him. 

He temporarily forgets himself. The arrogance, the hurt, the fear that you might slip between his fingers should he ever relax his hold. You find him foolish in that regard. He can have you in the palm of his hand if he likes, and you know he’d like that very much. There’s nowhere else for you to be. Not when he’s seen to the fact himself. 

Scaramouche melts into your person, returning your kiss with rapture, drunk on the way you offer yourself to him. He makes a deep, breathy noise, willing you closer, demanding total subservience. You let him have his way. Civilizations could rise and fall in the seconds that follow, and he’d pay them no mind, too absorbed with savoring your temporary connection. 

It is what he lives for; what he'd kill for.

His fair skin is flushed when you part. From the apple of his cheeks to the tip of his ears, he’s painted in a color from your palette. The pigmentation suits him. Red is the color around his eyes, of his longing for you, and of what would spill across the land should you ever part. 

“There,” you whisper, as if it were a secret meant for him alone, “That look suits you far better.” 

He wants to deny it — you can tell by how his grip tightens — but he remains uncharacteristically quiet. If he gets to delight in you, it’s only fair that you can occasionally delight in him, he supposes. 

Such is your capricious nature. 

[flowercrowngods]

hello i’m attempting something for steddie week too, but it'll be one large thing probably @steddie-week

day 01: pining

2 new messages

eddie The Problem munson: —steeb —esteban —stefano  —stevie —love of my life apple of my eye pls pls tell me i can call you  —i am very chill etc etc —no i’m not  —let me call youuuu  —😠🥺🙏

Steve snorts as he picks up his phone and reads Eddie’s messages that keep coming in his usual spam of consciousness, a giddy feeling spreading in his chest as he snorts and goes to answer. 

— Call me then, coward 

Not a second later, his phone rings. Steve picks up immediately, even though he considers making Eddie wait; just to be difficult. Just to calm his racing heart that is always so lively around Eddie. 

“What,” he says, attempting to sound bored and annoyed — in vain, because even he can hear the smile on his face. Traitor, he thinks to himself. 

“Steve,” Eddie sing-songs, drawing out Steve’s name like he does every time he’s happy. “Steve, Steve, Stevie.” 

“Ed, Ed, Eddie,” he sings back, relaxing into his couch and shutting the laptop. Lesson planning can wait, he decides, shuffling all the loose pages into the text book and placing his laptop on the pile, trusting that physics won’t betray him. “What’s got you so happy, hm?” 

“Why do you think I’m happy?” Damn idiot has a smile on his face as he asks that, Steve can hear it. It makes his own grin widen and he huffs into the phone. 

“I literally know you, babe.” 

Babe. His heart flutters every time he says it — and he tries not to, because it’s meaningless, it’ll never happen. But Eddie picks it back up every time, and Steve is weak. God, he is so, so weak. 

On the other end, Eddie hums and Steve basks in the sound for a moment. It’s always so contagious, Eddie’s happiness, and he wants to soak it all up. Wants to be the reason for it. Wants, wants, wants. 

“You do,” Eddie says, his voice so light and fond it makes Steve’s whole body tingle. And his heart flutter. And it fills him with such happiness that he feels like he could take on the entire world right now, just with the way Eddie’s voice went all soft on him. 

God, he’s hopeless. So, so hopeless. But he’s also weak. An addict, leeching off Eddie’s attention, getting a kick out of the smallest dose, and absolutely certain he couldn’t survive if it were taken from him. He needs it. Even if it kills him a little bit, because— 

“She said yes.” 

Steve blinks. “Huh?” 

“Chrissy. She said— She said yes, Stevie. We’re getting married.” 

He says it and he sounds so happy. So, so happy. And Steve is the world’s worst best friend for the way he freezes, the way he almost drops his phone if it weren’t for the vice grip he has on it, frozen in time and space because his heart has stopped beating. It has stopped, surely, because no beating heart can hurt this much. No beating heart can crack open and still work the way it used to three, five, seven seconds ago. 

Eddie, bless his entire soul, laughs to fill the silence, and it’s the happiest sound. A boyish one, like there is no pain in the world and not a worry on his mind. A bit hysterical, too. Like he can’t believe it himself yet. Like this is the best day of his life and saying it again has reminded him of it. At least that’s what Steve imagines it feels like when someone wants to be married to you. He wouldn’t know, of course, as the only person he would ever ask is already engaged to someone else. Apparently. 

Eddie is engaged. 

Engaged and laughing and so, so happy. 

And Steve feels nauseous. Dizzy. Breathless. His eyes begin to sting and the hand that’s holding his phone begins to tremble, his grip so tight it hurts. 

Steve feels… too much. His hands tremble and he tries hard not to cry. 

“You’re getting married.” 

“We’re getting married.” 

They’re getting married. 

Fuck. 

Someone has to tell Robin. Because in true Platonic Soulmate manner, Steve and Robin fell in love with the two people who are in love with each other. Like the chaotic mess they are. 

“Sorry I didn’t tell you about it sooner,” Eddie continues, a bit more sober now. Sounding genuine and sufficiently awkward about it, in true Eddie-manner. Like the big old softie he secretly is. “I would have, but…” 

But I know you’re in love with me and didn’t want to burden you with the love I carry for someone who isn’t you, Steve’s brain auto-fills helpfully. But you keep flirting with me and there was never room for someone else when I was with you. 

But, but, but— 

He swallows and drags in a deep breath past the pain in his throat where all the words he can never say are forming a massive lump. 

“Hey man, don’t worry about that, we all know I suck at keeping secrets,” he offers. And it’s a lie, because he has kept this one thing secret for years and years. This one thing, this huge and all-encompassing thing that he can feel in the tips of his fingers when he is texting Eddie, and on his tongue when they are talking, and in his heart even when he is sleeping. 

This one thing, this one secret, is his never-ending love for Eddie. 

And he will add another one to that, a lovely little friend for it. To keep it company. That other secret, of course, will be the way his heart has shattered into a million little pieces and will remain that way until he can’t even look at Eddie anymore. And even then will he look at Eddie and smile at him, and Eddie will smile back and the pain will flare up again.

Again and again and again, for the rest of their lives. Possibly even beyond that. 

“You do suck at that,” Eddie chuckles, though it is quieter this time, almost private. Fond. Gentle. Always, always like that. It used to mean something once. And if Steve closes his eyes, he can imagine that Eddie smiles his secret smile, the one Steve has only seen directed at himself. It almost breaks him. 

Eddie’s I have known you for a whole eternity and love you beyond words, silly, but you also make my life so much harder-smile. That’s what he has dubbed it because that is what Eddie had said the first time he smiled like that when Steve was drunk off his ass. 

But. But, but, but— 

It’s no use to think of that now, to reminisce and imagine what might have been if… Well. If Steve weren’t Steve. 

And that sure is a dark path he doesn’t want to trudge now, not in the face of the even darker path of Eddie getting married that he sure as hell will have to walk down for the rest of his life. 

He sighs and tries to think of something to say. Something good. Something that is not Please don’t marry Chrissy. Please don’t take yourself away from me. Please. Please don’t get married to anyone who isn’t me. Please open your eyes and see me, please listen to me, please understand what I say when I say I love you. Please.  

He kind of spaces out for the rest of the conversation, not really listening to Eddie’s words over the ringing in his ears and the pumping beat of his shattered heart. 

Eddie speaks softly to him, the undercurrent of happiness and contentment still in his voice, and it would give Steve life, it would be contagious, it would be so very precious if it didn’t also drive the knife of pain ever deeper into Steve’s entire soul, slicing him apart with no one around to put him back together again.  

Splitting him in half. One half that just wants Eddie to be happy, to sound like he does right now for ever and ever. And the other half, loathing that Eddie’s happiness is not inspired by him, not because of him, not in any sort of relation to him. 

It’s not fair. And Steve is torn. So he shuts himself off and lets Eddie ramble, tells him that he is tired after pulling an all-nighter again and wrangling the his difficult seventh graders that were particularly hard on him today when the other man asks him if he is all right. 

“Steve,” Eddie sighs, and a traitorous tear rolls down Steve’s cheek at the caring exasperation he hears there. “How often do I need to tell you that sleep is important? You’re gonna wear yourself out at this rate. And the kids just suck.”  

“I know,” he says, and sniffs, willing the tears to not fall. Not until Eddie has hung up on him. 

“Aww. That emotional, huh?” 

At that, Steve sobs out a laugh and gladly accepts the way out. “Well, excuse me, my bestest friend whom I love very much is getting married soon! Or, well, I hope it’s soon, nobody has time for all that suspense. Anyway, I am allowed to be emotional about this!” 

Eddie chuckles again and sighs gently. “Yes, you are. I’m glad you are. Thank you, Stevie.” 

Don’t thank me. Not for this. Not over this, please, don’t thank me. 

“Don’t thank me,” he says with a grin, and it hurts his cheeks from how forced it is. “Thank yourself for being brave enough to actually go through with the proposal! We both know you’re chicken shit.” 

Just like me, he thinks. Just like me. 

They laugh and it sounds hollow to Steve’s ears. He just wants the phone call to end, wants this to be over with. Wants them to not get married. Never, ever, in this life or the next. 

He wants… he wants Robin. No, he needs his best friend, his soulmate. He can’t cry alone, not about this. 

Eventually, Eddie hangs up, that smile still so audibly his lips, and that painful happiness still very clear in his voice. Steve wants to share it. But he can’t.

All he can do is stare at the phone in his trembling hand before he closes his eyes and lets himself cry, his head falling back against the couch until he slumps over to one side. He stares and he cries until he can’t anymore. 

Eddie. The love of his life. Is getting married. To Chrissy, the other, platonic love of his life, who is like a sister to him. Who, coincidentally, is the love of his real platonic soulmate’s life.

Fucking hell, the mess they find themselves in!

After a while of pitifully staring at the wall, all cried out and feeling thoroughly pathetic, he lifts his phone and speed-dials Robin. 

“Stevie?” 

He sniffs, and it must sound as awful as he feels, for her next words are, “I’ll be right there. Alcohol or ice cream?” 

“Both?” he whimpers after a moment, and Robin hums right back. 

“I’ve got you. I’ll be there in ten.” 

She hangs up before he can say anything more, and he is overcome with all the love he holds for her. 

As he waits for her to come over, he does not move from the awkwardly half curled-up position on his couch, the lesson plans for tomorrow forgotten completely. This is his life now. His Eddie-less life. His engaged-Eddie life. His loveless, hopeless, endlessly pitiful life. 

come back tomorrow for: bittersweet & angst | read here

[taintedcigs]

eddie w tattoo artist reader..... trying SO hard to seem like he's not dying from pain while she tattoos his chest, bc he's trying to impress her. she's the coolest girl he's ever seen and the fact that her art is on him forever makes him so giddy and happy, almost as happy as getting her number

call me if you need a groupie — e.m.

yes yes yes yes yes. a thousand times yes to this. thank u for this request omg i looooove lovesick cutie eddie soooooo much. this was meant to be a blurb but now its a 2.8k+ fic oops. idk if there were exclusive shirts ok i tried to do my research but this is the best i could get and idk how tattoo processes are so take everything i wrote w a grain of salt !! not proofread as always so ignore any mistakes and also idk why but i looved writing for this dynamic and if anyone would be interested i could write a pt.2 for some smut !! (maybe sub!eddie or switch!eddie? 👀)

pairing: eddie munson x fem!tattoo artist!reader (wc: 2.8k+)

warnings: MINORS DNI w any of my works!!. just pure fluff!! maybe the teeniest tiniest angst, eddie is kinda insecure <3, eddie is a lovesick cutie honey pie !! and swearing? oh also tattooing ofc (needles n stuff)

He doesn't mean to flinch, he doesn't mean to show you how stressed he is, but you can sense it.

Each time the needle presses against his skin, he hisses, mouth biting onto his lips, harsh enough to draw blood.

But Eddie doesn’t care, you—the hottest and coolest girl—that has ever graced the hellhole that was Hawkins was tattooing him, and Eddie couldn’t afford to look like a coward.

So with everything in him, he shut his lips, biting on them, becoming accustomed to the metallic taste because it didn’t matter, not when you looked so fucking pretty when cooing him and your free hand squeezed his biceps for reassurance.

He didn’t know what to admire first, the way your lips quirked sweetly when you answered his dumb questions, the way you looked so focused with your lip between your teeth, trying to tattoo him, or the fact that you were wearing an Anthrax shirt, and not just any regular Anthrax shirt that you could find at those regular shops, it was an exclusive shirt that was only sold at the concerts, and he had to gulp physically at that.

You were a tattoo artist… and a metal fan? How perfect could you get?

Before his questions were answered, the needle pricked at his skin again, he cursed out, and instead of screaming in his mind, he whimpered out loud this time.

Your head perked up quickly and Eddie was now cursing himself, for being a fucking idiot, for looking like a coward in front of you.

“I can slow down if you want to,” You said with a smile, a sweet smile that adorned your perfectly red lips, they looked so fucking kissable.

“N–no!” He stuttered, but you gave him a huff. “C’mon Eds, you’re doing good… better than anyone I’ve ever tattooed has, we can slow down a bit.” You reassured.

His eyes lit up like a child, Eds? His new acquired nickname rolled off your tongue so sweetly, your words dripped in honey. And Eddie decided he would do anything to hear you call him that again.

Not only did you call him Eds, but you also said he was better than the others, and the childish grin on Eddie’s lips was quick to grow again, his entire body relaxing as he almost melted into you.

“You think so?” He asked, tone giddy and all sweet, causing a pretty giggle to escape your lips.

“I know so!” You hummed. “Tattooed a guy yesterday. He was tall. Like really fucking tall, and he had this long beard and tattoos everywhere!” You exaggerated, watching Eddie’s eyes widen. “He cried like a baby the second that needle prickled his skin!”

“And look at you, taking everything I’m giving you like a champ,” You winked.

If only you knew the affect you had on him, Eddie’s entire face grew red at that, he would, without hesitation take anything you gave him.

He tried, so fucking hard not to think about it, but now his mind was filled with the images of you, sitting on his faze, your pretty cunt glistening as he lapped away at your juices.

He imagined those pretty manicured fingers discarding his hair, ruffling while those pretty little lips were hung open, chanting his name. Your whines and whimpers would fill the room as he begged for you to cum in his mouth. He wouldn’t stop until you smothered him.

Until all he could taste was you.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, because the blood was quick to rush to his cock, and he didn’t want to have his bulge hardening against his tight pants anymore than he needed to, you were inches away from him and he wanted to seem cool–so fucking badly.

“Really?” He asked, and you nodded swiftly. “So brave for me.” You coo, lips lightly brushing against his cheek, as you plant a little kiss.

And Eddie was sure this was heaven now, he blinked quickly to make sure he wasn't dreaming, the light kiss you left on his cheeks lingered, and he could feel it burn.

His cheeks were purely crimson red now, he couldn't fucking help it. He ached for you, ached to have you close to him, ached to feel your touch, and everything you did was enough to drive him crazy, make him feel out of his fucking mind.

He was putty in your hands and you had no fucking idea.

His mouth stood agape, a dumbfounded look overtaking his features for too fucking long until the soft buzz of the machine brought him back again, the needle quick to puncture the skin's surface again, causing Eddie to squeeze his eyes shut as he tried his best not to fucking scream.

Be cool, be cool, be fucking cool Edward Munson.

He repeated it like a mantra in his head, and he was glad you were focusing on tattooing the cute sketch you made for him, and not his actual face that probably looked straight out of a horror movie.

“So—uh... c—cool shirt,” Eddie muttered, voice so low that he was surprised when you hummed back at him.

“Oh, yeah,” You muttered.

“You listen to Anthrax?” You asked with a beaming smile, gaze still focused on Eddie's arm.

Eddie huffed painfully but realized quickly that the nervousness of talking to you was overpowering the pain of the tattoo gun drilling into his skin.

“Are you kidding? Anthrax, Judas Priest, Black Sabbath... Megadeth! You name it I probably listen to it,” He hummed, and your eyes glimmered, causing Eddie's breath to hitch and his wavering nervousness to appear again. “Metal is my jam, baby!” He exclaimed, not too loud to disturb your tattooing process but loud enough to cause a giggle out of you.

Metal is my jam? Baby? Who the fuck says that?

Eddie was afraid to look into your eyes now, afraid to see the gaze everyone gives him.

Like he's an outsider like he's a freak.

But when he hears that pretty giggle of yours again, comfort takes over him, nervousness dissipating quickly when he sees the gentle look you give him.

Almost as if to let him know that you also love those bands. Almost as if to let him know that he wasn't an outsider because you were just like him.

“Dio?” You asked with a curious gaze, face beaming up when Eddie nodded furiously.

“Fuckin' love Dio,” He muttered, barely realizing the needle on his skin now, all thanks to you.

“Uhh—how did you even get that shirt?” Eddie asked, almost shyly, admiring the way you were neatly tattooing him.

“I wanted to go to that concert so badly but the tickets were sold out so quickly.” He added.

“Oh! I was Belladonna's groupie,” You muttered mindlessly, the pain as you prickled the needle was an afterthought to Eddie now, almost forgetting how to breathe, he coughed, quite loudly, causing you to look up at him and see the bewildered look on his face.

You stopped the machine when you chuckled lightly, "Oh, Eds!"

There it was, that nickname again, god you were dizzying his mind.

“I was just joking,” You smiled at him, and he wanted to melt, right then and there. "Needed to go a little bit deeper so I thought I'd distract you," You shrugged, and Eddie returned the smile.

He liked the feeling of having someone care about him, he liked talking to you, and he sure as hell enjoyed being with someone so similar to him—someone so fucking cool.

“Though I did go to that concert in 1987.” You could feel Eddie’s curious gaze on you

“My friend knew their manager,” You murmured again.

"Really?!? How was it?" He asked, face beaming again.

“So fucking cool.” You gushed as you started talking about their set list, how the first punch you ever threw was at that concert, and you enthusiastically animated Donais' guitar riff, earning a hearty chuckle from Eddie. He loved every bit of your story, listening attentively as your exaggerations enticed him more and more.

The longer you tattooed him, the more comfortable Eddie got, pain was no longer his main concern when all he wanted to do was make you laugh, hear that sweet giggle escaping from your lips, admire the way your eyes crinkle when you smile at him so sugary.

Minutes stretched into hours as you focused on his tattoo, each pass of the needle causing a smile on your face as the sketch you made became more intricate and alluring on his bare skin.

“All done!” You exclaimed with a smile when you finally finished tattooing him, a sigh of relief escaping your lips when the buzz of the machine was finally replaced with silence.

You couldn't help but trace every part of his face now, you wanted to see if he liked it, anxiety bubbling up in your stomach as you couldn't read Eddie's expressions.

“Oh my god,” Was all that left Eddie's lips, and your lips almost started to tremble.

Jesus fucking Christ, how bad did you fuck up?

“Oh my fucking god,” He repeated again, this time his head tilted upward to your direction, almost snapping as you looked at him with scared eyes.

But your gaze eased the second you saw the admiration in Eddie's gaze. “This is a fucking masterpiece!” He beamed, causing a smile on your lips, so fucking big and pretty that he wished he could have that tattooed instead.

“It's fucking perfect,” He muttered again, shaking his head in disbelief when he looked at the tattoo on his forearm.

“I mean when I saw that sketch, I knew you were good to , but holy shit,” He praised again, causing heat to grow in your cheeks, he had no idea how much it meant to you, to have someone appreciating your art, to have people walk around in the sketches you did, indelible on their skin. It felt so fucking good.

“It's...perfect.”

“Really?”

“Of fucking course,” He gushed. “You're so fuckin' talented it's crazy,” He muttered, fingertips gentle as they avoided glazing through the tattoo, but around it.

You were so fucking perfect it was killing him, and he couldn't help the giddy feeling inside of him knowing that your art would be etched into his skin, forever.

You couldn't shake off the thoughts in your head, swirling when Eddie uttered those compliments to you.

Your cheeks grew hot so quickly that you felt the need to turn around, trying to think of something to say to him so that you wouldn't look like a fucking idiot.

Eddie turned around to face you, the smile that brought out his dimples apparent in his face as he watched you scrabble something on a business card.

“Thank you,” You muttered when you turned around, hands almost shaking as you extended your arm to give Eddie the card.

He scrambled it into his back pocket, not caring when you were this close to him, but you frowned at that. “No, thank you, for this masterpiece” He winked, pointing toward his forearm.

He didn't even know where he got the confidence to even be able to wink at you, and his coolness wore off the second he exited the shop, a silent shrieking scream exited his mouth as he freaked out.

Your sketch. On his arm.

You. Tattoo artist. Metal fan.

You, kissing him on the cheek, talking to him for hours, laughing at his idiotic jokes.

You.

Eddie was sure he lost his mind, hands shaking as he reached for the card in his back pocket.

The card was black and the title on it was dripping with blood. He whined.

How much cooler were you going to get?

He gulped when he looked back, seeing you toward the clear glass door, and he knew.

He knew that if he didn't do it now, he could never do it, this was his only fucking chance, and he couldn't be a coward, not now, not when you were this close to him.

Eddie entered back into the shop in a frenzy, causing your head to pop up swiftly as you looked at him dumbfounded.

God, you were so gorgeous he could feel his heart skip a beat.

“C—can I ask you something?” He cleared his throat to not appear nervous, and you nodded, furiously.

“Look, I know this is weird and all... but... uhm, I really feel like we connected,” He muttered, fingers tapping against the glass counter that you were standing behind in.

“And I thought maybe... uhhh... I could like—get your number or somethin'?” He uttered anxiously, tilting his head slightly to the side, and you couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips.

And even though why you laughed was reasonable, it was the worst fucking thing you could have done to Eddie.

Especially when your laugh seemed so mocking, almost different than the ones you gave him earlier before. Jogging deep into this memory of the countless times when Eddie tried to pluck up the courage to ask girls in his class out, only to be laughed in his face, or to have them insult him.

But this was more than that, it pained him.

It pained him to think that you thought of him like the others did. Like you saw him as an outsider, too.

His bubble of confidence that was already wavering was even quicker to fizzle out, he could feel that familiar lump in his throat, shoulders slumping as his gaze was quick to show his emotions.

He was hurt. And he was sure this hurt much more than a thousand needles breaking the barriers of his skin, “Uhhh,” He gave you a bitter chuckle. “Just.... never mind” He added, defeatedly turning back around to exit the shop once again as he ignored you calling out for him.

“Wait!” You yelled out after him, but Eddie started walking faster.

“Shit shit shit!” You cursed yourself for your little joke.

“Eds, please!” You called out again, this time effective enough to make Eddie stop in his tracks.

Eds. Oh you knew how to get him hooked, how to get him right where you wanted him.

And he hated himself for being this weak for you, someone he met, just recently.

“What?” He answered coldly, glaring at you with bitterness that made you want to hide out, that gentle soul in him disappearing in mere seconds.

And you sighed, hating that he could ever see you as someone that would make fun of him.

“Flip the card,” Your gaze on him was intense, cheeks growing hot again knowing that you were going to see his reaction to your stupid note.

“I don't have time for your bullshit” He spat, almost on his feet to leave.

You sighed. “Eds, just... will you just please flip the card?” You asked, all prettily that Eddie couldn't help but oblige, but be gentle with you again because he couldn't resist it. He couldn't resist you.

He huffed as he plucked the card out of the back pocket of his jeans, turning it over in one swift motion.

'CALL ME IF U NEED A GROUPIE' and your digits were attached right below it.

His gaze softened immediately, head drooping further as he huffed at himself.

He felt stupid, so fucking stupid.

Why did he ever think you would treat him like the others?

His chest expanded with hope when he looked back up at you, a soft smile graced his lips.

“Oh,” He muttered, not able to help the childish grin that was now stuck to his lips.

“Shut up,” You giggled, nudging him slightly.

“You owe me,” You narrowed your eyes sarcastically, causing his brows to quip.

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” He asked, a newfound confidence washing him over when you were so easy to talk to.

“A date,” You beamed, scrunching your nose.

“Okay.” The words left his lips quickly, too quickly that it had you feeling giddy inside.

“How about tomorrow?” He didn't even know how he managed to get those words out without stuttering.

“Uhm—sure.” You were the one stuttering now, cheeks burning up as you could barely look at him. His grin was sickly inviting.

“I'll pick you up at 8?” You nodded so quickly that you were sure your head was about to fall off.

“See you tomorrow,” His voice was sultry as he winked again, making you almost melt, looking cool on the surface when all he wanted to do was go home, freak the fuck out, tell Wayne all about the cool girl who tattooed him, and not be able to sleep until your date tomorrow.

[writingwithcolor]

Judaism, Angels, and Monstrosity

@neapolitangirl asked:

I'm writing a story about the angel Muriel traveling through a world inspired by American folklore (Ex. The Bell Witch, Fearsome Critters, etc) while hunting demons. I wanted to draw inspiration from the legend that says Muriel and Abaddon are one and the same because I thought it was interesting. However, I also know that Abaddon is important to Jewish cosmology and wanted to avoid any unfortunate implications. Muriel is very skittish and kind of a coward, but turns into the more violent and vengeful Abaddon in the presence of demons. Appearance-wise both Muriel and Abaddon are tall and skinny, but Muriel is more like an owly-human while Abaddon is a spiky skeletal being. Would this be connecting Judaism to monstrosity? Also, is there anything else I should try to avoid?

So…angelology, the whole idea of angels with names and personalities and individual jobs, is just…not something the average Jewish person thinks or cares about, even the ones who know a little about it. Not that it’s bad, it’s just not something that is prominent enough that it would have tropes attached that we might be able to warn you against.

That said, we’re posting on the Niche Scholarship and Special Interest website, so if there’s a reader who happens to have a lot of knowledge and feelings about Jewish angelology we would welcome the contribution and specialized expertise.

As it stands, my instinct is to give these more general considerations:

Balancing Jewish and Christian Elements

To what degree are you trying to tell a Jewish story, a Christian story that does not harm Jewish readers, or a story strongly influenced by Christian ideas about the heavens in a way that does not harm Jewish readers? How does deciding where you fall among those distinctions affect how you construct your story, and how you portray your angels?

Jewish Concept of God and Angelic Appearances

To Jews, God Godself does not have a physical body or visible appearance. If you’re describing the appearance of God as you’re navigating your angel-centering narrative, you’re squarely outside the territory of inclusivity toward Jewish readers. That’s okay, if you’re clear with readers that you’re not telling a Jewish story. It’s not okay if you’re trying to conflate Jewish and Christian ideas into a single narrative when they are often incompatible.

Angelic Appearances and Jewish Scripture

Angels might have appearances, and some descriptions of some types of angels in some Jewish scriptures have body parts of various animals. I haven’t the foggiest clue if it matters to anyone what appearances belong to which angels, so if it matters to someone reading this I hope they will speak up.

Are angels Jewish? This is a subject that could make for a fun discussion among Jewish people as a way of exploring the nature of Jewishness, but in your narrative you will have to think this through in your own way. If your angels engage in Jewish practices, then what does that look like and why, and if they don’t, why don’t they? The answer to that may of course be “Because I’m not actually telling a Jewish story.”

Christian Themes and Sensitivity to Jewish Culture

It’s okay to not be telling a Jewish story. But in that case keep in mind what demonstrations of Jewishness you include in a Christian story.

Especially, if you’re depicting a divine Jesus, or a Jesus character with any type of more-than-human powers or ancestry, or you are including any reference to the idea that Christianity might be in any way objectively correct, then you must tread EXTREMELY CAREFULLY with including any depiction of Jewish practice in your work, as the line where depiction turns to appropriation is in that case extremely near.

In all things, try and avoid depicting Jewish humans and any character who might be Jewish or be seen as Jewish in ways that are otherwise harmful: we’ve often talked about tropes around greed, sneakiness, power-grabbing, gender and sexual dynamics, and other tropes that apply to portrayals of Jewish characters. If your angels are Jewish, or Jew-ish in flavor, that goes for them as well.

Again, I know absolutely zero about Muriel and Abbadon and am not very interested in learning more as their lore has zero bearing on my Jewish practice in any way, and that’s a somewhat important point to me to be making because…2J3O. Two Jews, three opinions. So again, if a reader does in fact have knowledge and opinions about the specific angels themselves, please speak up.

–Meir

[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories /five/ Azriel X reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

They came not an hour later. You hid in your rooms like the coward you accused Tamlin of being. They didn’t put up a fight as Amerantha’s men, Rhys included, hauled them off towards the mountain. It left you in a state of dismay. Because with Tamlin gone, and the Faebane slowly leaving your system, there was no reason for you to stay here in Spring. You could easily run back to the night court and hide in one of the cabins your family owned. You could easily hide in the mountains and pray that one day Amerantha would meet her match. 

Only you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. One day you tried, only to turn and vomit in the rose bushes. You then turned around and went back to your rooms and crawled under your covers. You stayed there and didn’t move for the rest of the day. 

On the third day, Feyre showed back up. Much to your surprise, claiming to love Tamlin and willing to go under the mountain to save him. You rolled your eyes, but knew that love well. Because you would have given your wings if it meant seeing Az again. 

“She’ll kill you,” You say from your spot at the kitchen doors, “The second she realizes you’re there, she’ll kill you. But she’ll draw it out, make it slow and painful.”

“Not helping,” Alis hissed at you. 

“Who are you?” Feyre whips to face you. 

You only smirk, “A friend. That’s all you need to know. Rhys might be your only hope.” 

“Rhysand is a brute.”

“Perhaps,” You shrug, “But he wants out from under Amerantha as much as the next, only he has the power to make it happen.”

“What are you saying?” She questions. 

“If he comes to you with a bargain, take it,” You tell her, “It could just save your life. Play his games, it might just save you from hers.” 

“Don’t be a fool,” Alis said, “Don’t make any bargains.”

“Fine then, die and damn us all.”

“Why are you trying to help me?” Feyre asks. 

“Because, dear human, I want to go home,” you said almost wistfully, “And I can’t as long as that bitch is in power.” 

“Where is home for you?” 

“The Night Court. But I’ve been held here for hundreds of years.” 

“How old are you?” Her voice shook as she asked. 

You only laughed and shook your head, “My age is of no concern to you. I’m not even sure I know it anymore anyway.”

Alis sighs from behind Feyre and gathers some supplies. you  watch her carefully, wondering if she’s eager to send the poor human to her death, or if she hates the idea as much as you do. But you can only hope that Rhys will help her in any way that he can. You can only hope that he wants out as much as you think he does. 

“If you ever feel alone, look towards the shadows,” You explain, “I’m not promising I’ll be there. But if I feel I can risk it-” 

“Now that would be foolish,” Alis adds. 

“Thank you, Alis,” I hiss back, “You should go, now. Mother knows what that Bitch has done to your precious Tamlin.”

The idea of him getting his happy ending made you sick again. The idea of him being able to be happy when he’s caused so much suffering….you almost couldn’t handle it. But if this meant Rhys and the other members of the Night Court could be free then you had to allow it to happen. You had to try to aid the young girl in any way that you could. 

“Stick to the shadows,” You tell her, “You won’t get far once you enter, but always listen. And keep your wits about you.”

“Thank you,” She said in earnest. 

You watched from the broken front door as Alis led her away. You weren’t sure you’d ever see the human again, but you weren’t sad to see her go. It felt like leading a lamb to the slaughter, but it had to be done. There wasn’t another choice. Not if you wanted to survive, not if you wanted everyone to be free again. 

Each day you flung your powers out further and further, urging your shadows just a little further. They whispered back to you, telling you of what was happening under the mountain. How Feyre was dying, sick with fever and how Rhys came forth with a bargain. She headed your advice and took the bargain, marking her with a tattoo and a bond with Rhys. 

Each day you tried to find a way to contact your brother, but you knew you couldn’t risk it. There was no way you could reach his mind from so far away, not with the lingering effects of years of Faebane still in your system. 

You prayed that maybe Feyre would tell him about you and he would figure it out for himself and come for you once all of this was over. You prayed and prayed. There was nothing but silence. No news came. Your shadows were skittish, growing restless waiting for Amerantha to do something. 

You lost weight from not eating. The lack of food would kill you eventually, and maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. If Valaris parished and there was nothing left of the people you called family- no one left but Rhys who thought you were dead anyway…would death be so bad? It could all be over finally, and maybe the Mother would be so kind as to bring you back to Az in the next life. 

Three months. A mere blip in your young life, but feeling like a lifetime nonetheless. It took three long months before you saw three figures coming up the road. They were moving fast, all three of them. Feyre, it seemed, was no longer human. Your shadows neglected to tell you that when they said she’d survived and Amerantha did not. 

You made your way downstairs, towards the door which you’d managed to somewhat fix. None of them looked worse for wear, but you knew whatever Feyre had been through would stay with her for a long time. And Tamlin had the ornate ability to simply sweep things under the rug and forget about them. He would do the same with her. 

She looked High Fae, smelled like it too. With traces of my brother. So small, almost undetectable, but there. Shimmering like the bond you knew they had. You wondered when he would call in his bargain, when he would take her away from this place and show her the splendor of the Night Court, the beauty of it. 

“You’re still here,” Tamlin stopped, a scowl forming, “I set you free.”

“You set me free, perhaps, but I would have died before I made it back to my own Court. Safer to stay here until I could contact my brother.”

“That won’t be happening,” Tamlin said slyly, “Feyre, darling, why don’t you go inside with Lucien. I’ll be inside in a moment.”

Your eyes narrowed as she did as she was told. Lucien spared you a glance, pity swirling in his eye. It made a pit form in your stomach. You wouldn’t be leaving the Spring Court, you realized. You would be forced to stay here until the day you died, or until Tamlin finally decided to kill you. 

Maybe you would make it your mission to push him as far as you could so he would kill you. Maybe then you could finally know peace, and not whatever it was that you knew now. 

“I thought I was going to free you,” Tamlin took a step towards you, “But then your brother made that Bargain with Feyre, and made me look like a fool under the mountain.” 

“So once again, I’m to become your bargaining chip?” I question, “What? Me for Feyre?” 

“Perhaps.”

“I could mist you,” You hiss. 

“Ah, but you can’t,” Tamlin laughs, “Because even after all this time, the Faebane is still in your system. You can’t even winnow, because if you could, you would’ve left by now.” 

He surges forward and grips your cheeks in his hand. You yelp in pain before going completely still. You won’t let him have the satisfaction of seeing you in pain, or anything. He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of it. 

“You, little one, are going to be here for a very long time,” He squeezed your face harder, “And I’m going to enjoy finally breaking you.”

Little did he know, you were already broken. 

“Go to hell,” You spit out. 

“I was already there,” He smirked, “It didn’t take.” 

“He’ll kill you once he finds out,” You force out, “And I’ll watch and laugh.” 

“I’m counting on him trying.”

Tag List

@historygeekqueen @queerqueenlynn @wallacewillow0773638 @sstrohma @saltedcoffeescotch @hnyclover @thelov3lybookworm @maddybraps @minnieoo @witchymomfrien @mariahoedt @one-big-fangirl @amara-moonlight @st0rmyt @annamariereads16 @hunterksmith

[marie-swriting]

The Slut Of Hawkins - Steve Harrington [1/2]

Emails I Can't Send Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

Part two

Part one - two (French version)

Summary : You're paying for the consequences of dating Steve Harrington.

Warnings : italics are for flashbacks, Slutshaming, school bullying (reader getting bullied) (talk to someone if you're being bullied!), implied sex, Steve is a bit of a coward, bad relationship with parents, angst, sad ending, fighting.

Word count : 3.5k

Song inspiration : Because I Liked A Boy by Sabrina Carpenter

The laughs were filling the fresh air of the early night. Laying on your backyard trampoline, you were cuddling against Steve. You had been getting closer recently and you had to admit, it made you feel good to have someone to talk to, especially when your parents weren’t there - which was pretty often, that night was another proof.

Steve held you a bit tighter in his arms while you were talking about your favourite singers. You had said some names like Madonna, Bowie though, it was the mention of The Beatles that caught his attention.

“The album Help! is definitely my favourite.” Steve informed you.

“Same for me, I love all of the songs but You’re Going To Lose That Girl and It’s Only Love have a special place in my heart.” you said whilst Steve looked away. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, it’s just that It’s Only Love was our song, to me and Nancy.”

“You really loved her, didn’t you?”

“She was my first love. Unfortunately, it ended pretty badly. It became complicated after her best friend Barbara disappeared. Besides, I have to admit, I was at fault, too but I’m trying to be better.”

“I’m sure you will.” you affirmed hugging him a bit more against you. “You’re not the same Steve you used to be. We wouldn’t be here, otherwise. You’re a good person, Steve, don’t doubt it for a second.” 

“Thanks for what you just said.” Steve smiled at you.

“Anyway, what do you think of I Need You?”

“Not really my favourite.”

“Steve Harrington, I am appalled! How dare you say this kind of stuff?” you exclaim, faking shock.

“You asked for my opinion.”

“And you were supposed to agree with me.”

“I don’t like it, it’s not my fault.”

“You just don’t get this song. You’ll see, you’ll be a fan of it one day, I’ll make sure of it.” you stated looking at him right in the eyes.

“I’m dying to see that.”

Your lips were only a few inches away. You didn’t dare to make the first step, even if you were dying to, you were too afraid to have read too much in between the lines. You liked Steve a lot, but you weren’t sure he wanted the same thing. Steve looked at you with stars and tenderness in his eyes, yours were quite similar. You both were waiting to see which one would bend first. Steve was the one who ended up breaking the inches by pressing his lips against yours. Your lips were moving slowly, taking in this innocent moment of the beginning of your relationship.

Now, the innocence is gone. Once you close your locker door, the word “slut” is written in big letters, reminding you of the price you had to pay for this moment. Who knew cuddling on trampolines could be so reckless? 

Far away, Steve is watching you. However, the second you turn your head toward him, he looks down and goes in the opposite direction. It’s been the same thing for a month. You are called names and Steve turns a blind eye. You are accused of being a homewrecker and Steve receives sympathy for the pain you supposedly caused him.

During the day, you keep your head low, not wanting to draw more attention to you. Unfortunately, the insults just like the degrading pieces of paper keep coming your way. The only moment of peace you have is during lunchtime. 

At first, you hid in the bathroom then you ended up running into some girls who made you understand they weren’t on your side so you went to find a safe place in the janitor closet. At least, no one can bother you there. You don’t like the way you accepted the bullying however every time you tried to explain the situation, no one listened to you. So, now, you don’t say anything and you let people tell you who you are, hoping this story will end soon. 

In the afternoon, you have chemistry. As you got used to the past month, you sit at the end of the class, wanting to be far away from your classmates' judging look. You do your best to stay focused on the lesson but you have to admit since the beginning of the rumours, your grades have been falling. You keep your energy to survive the comments so you don’t have enough of it to keep your grades high.

While you finish writing what Mr. Kaminski just said, he announces you’ll work in pairs. Right away, your stomach twists and you want to throw up. You can’t work in pairs. You’ve never been a fan of group projects however now you hate it; it’s an open door to being called names nonstop for a whole hour. The teacher informs he’s already made the groups before saying them out loud. Like a convicted person, you wait for him to say your name. You’re part of the last group and you’re with Tucker Walker. At the mention of his name, you want to die. He’s part of the basketball team and he’s entitled. You don’t like him. You try to negotiate with your teacher to work alone but he insists.

“Come here, Y/L/N, I’m not gonna eat you.” Tucker laughs.

Reluctantly, you gather your stuff and go to his desk. You put as much distance as possible, wanting to avoid new rumours.

“I’m going to do the whole exercise and I’ll put your name on the sheet like this, you’ll have nothing to do.” you announce while starting to read what you have to do.

“Who said I didn’t want to work with you?”

“I don’t want to work with you.” you specify. “Now, do something else and let me work.”

“On the contrary, I’m sure I can be useful.” he contradicts, putting his hand on your knee.

“Take your hand off.” you say through gritting teeth.

“What?”

“Your hand. I don’t like you and if I’m not mistaken, you’re with someone.”

“It didn’t stop you with Harrington.” he says before leaning in. “You can meet me behind school later.”

“No.”

“You don’t have to play hard-to-get because we’re in class.”

“I’m not playing hard-to-get, I just don’t like you.” you repeat, trying to stay calm.

“That's what you say now.”

By some luck, Tucker takes his hand off and lets you work. You’re surprised to see him give up so easily. You know it’s hiding something else, from now on, you have to avoid him.

You finish the work sheet the same second the bell rings at the end of the class. You pack your stuff quickly and give the sheet to your teacher before leaving the room. Tucker doesn’t follow, allowing you to sigh in relief.

Walking by your locker, you discover the insult is gone. It’s one of the positive things with the janitor, he always erases the insults right away. Though, no matter how many times he erases them, he’s never reported it to the principal, leaving you on your own with the high schooler venom.

The moment you leave school, you walk to your car when you get stopped in your tracks. In front of you, there are four girls, Jessica - Tucker’s girlfriend - included. You try to not show anything, mentally preparing yourself for what she’s going to tell you.

“What makes you think you can hit on Tucker, my boyfriend?” she asks drily, “Being his chemistry partner and telling him to meet you behind school? That’s where you were going, weren’t you? He’s not coming. Unlike Steve, he won’t let the slut of Hawkins destroy our relationship.” Jessica affirms, you’re about to answer when she beats you to it. “Don’t even try to deny it, Tucker told me and Sarah heard you!”

“Well, she can’t hear correctly then and your boyfriend is lying. Tucker is the one who hit on me and I stopped him. He put his hand on my knee and told me to meet him behind school.” you retort, annoyed.

“You think I’m gonna believe you over my boyfriend and my best friend?”

“I know you’re not going to believe me. It’s so much easier to believe your boyfriend who tells you what you want to hear rather than the girl who shows you the true colour of your boyfriend. Don’t be too disappointed the day you’ll discover he’s cheated on you, if he hasn’t done it already.” you state with a fake smile.

“Take that back.”

“Why ? Everyone knows he’s a cheater.”

“He’s different with me.” Jessica insists and you shake your head.

“That's what he wants you to believe but the truth is, he’s sleeping around while keeping you under his hat.”

The sound of the slap resonates in the school parking lot. You look at Jessica with eyes wide open whilst you’re touching your cheek. For you, that’s your last straw, you answer to her attack by pulling at her hair. Jessica’s scream alerts the adults around while her friends try to separate you two. You keep giving her a piece of your mind when two arms wrap themselves around your body and gets you away from Jessica. Being separated doesn’t stop both of you from insulting one another and trying to go for the throat again until Mister Jenkins arrives.

“That’s enough! What is going on here?”

“She attacked me!” Jessica lies, pointing at you.

“What? You’re the one who slapped me first.”

“She’s lying, we saw her, sir!” a friend of Jessica adds.

“They’re lying, Jessica did hit her first.”

Looking behind you, you discover the one who is holding you back and who is defending you is none other than Eddie Munson. You didn’t even see he was around and you certainly didn’t expect him to defend you.

“Are you seriously going to believe what Munson is saying?” Jessica questions, faking tears. “He’s always against us! He’d say anything to get us in trouble. I’m the victim here-”

“You’re talking nonsense, you-” you cut her off before Jenkins gets your attention back.

“Enough! I have enough. Go to the principal, now!”

And that’s how you end up in Mister Higgins’ office for the first time. You can’t believe the situation got this bad. The worst part isn’t listening to the disapproving speech of the headmaster, it’s actually witnessing your mom’s disappointment beside you as he speaks.

While the principal is explaining to your mom and Jessica’s mom what happened, you look at your feet, holding back tears of anger. Once he’s done talking, Higgins catches your and Jessica’s attention.

“Do you have anything to add?”

“I didn’t attack her first.” you insist.

“Everybody saw you!” Jessica retorts.

“You’re the one who accused me of stealing your boyfriend. I did nothing wrong.”

“Yeah, just like you didn’t break Nancy and Steve’s relationship.”

“Sir,” you start, trying to keep a calm voice, “I’ve been receiving insults for more than a month now from everyone including Jessica. She called me a slut then she slapped me when I told her her boyfriend was cheating on her. Eddie Munson saw it, he told Mister Jenkins.”

“Munson,  the one leading a cult? What a reliable source!” Jessica’s mother states, rolling her eyes.

“Madam, please.” Mr. Higgins reprimands. “One witness against Jessica’s three friends doesn’t bring a lot to the table.”

“So you’re not even going to do something about the harassment I’ve been receiving?”

“Y/N.” your mom says drily.

“I’ve never heard anything about people being mean to you. However, your grades haven’t been going down for some reason.”

“If you cared a bit more about your student, maybe you’d know why.”

“Y/N, enough!” your mom orders you before turning to Mister Higgins. “I apologise. I guess Y/N will be punished?”

“Indeed, we can’t tolerate this kind of behaviour. Technically, this kind of situation can lead to expulsion though considering Y/N has always been a good student - until now -, we’ll just say she’s going through a bad phase. Y/N will have a month of detention and you will be doing an assignment on bullying.”

Before you can protest, your mom glares at you. You stay silent while your mom apologies once again for your behaviour. Your mom’s grip on your arm forces you to stand up and to leave the office. She doesn’t say anything until you arrive at your car where she orders you to get home right away.

Once you’re home, your mom informs you you’re not allowed to drive your car therefore, you have to take the bus to go to school before informing you to stay in your room until your father arrives.

The second you close the door, you finally let your tears of anger stream down your face. You’re frustrated by the whole situation and you have never felt this alone before. You lay down on your bed rolled up in a ball, searching for some comfort. As you search for that much-needed comfort, your mind takes you back to a time in your life when you had it without needing to make any effort.

At one point, you had this comfort with you. When everything was still going great, it wasn’t rare for Steve to come to your place and put on a smile on your face.

You had been a couple for three months and no one knew about your relationship. You preferred to not say anything, wanting to protect what you had. Thanks to your relationship, you both felt less alone, you finally felt like someone cared about you, that was why you felt so good with him. Therefore, you would see each other when your parents weren’t home. As you didn’t want to stay alone for another night, you had invited Steve to come. Knowing he was in the same situation, Steve had rang at your door thirty minutes later.

Laying on your bed, you were enjoying each other’s presence after your first intimate moment you had just shared. Steve had his arms wrapped around your hips, pressing your back against his torso.

“You know,” Steve started, whispering in your ear, “maybe you’re too late to be my first love, but you’ll always be my favourite. I like what we have.”

“Me too. I like you, Steve, a lot.” you told him, turning around to look at him.

“I like you a lot, too.” he replied, tenderly kissing you.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the harsh voice of your father ordering you to come downstairs. You fastly wipe the tears away from your cheeks and prepare yourself for what your parents are about to tell you. While you’re walking down the stairs, your father makes a sign to go to the kitchen. You sit whilst your parents stay on their feet on the other side of the table, a severe expression on their faces.

“Is it true what your mother told me? You’re getting into fights now?” your dad says, angry.

“I was only defending myself, Jessica attacked me first.”

“Why would she attack you? I know her dad, she’s a nice girl.”

“She called me a slut and she accused me of stealing her boyfriend when I didn’t do anything.”

“Why does she say you did then?” your mom questions, annoyed.

“Because she’s against me like everyone else in this school!”

“Lower your tone, young lady.” your father orders.

“It’s about what she said about Steve and Nancy, isn’t it?” your mother wants to know with accusing eyes.

“Yes, they accuse me of breaking their relationship when it’s not the truth.”

“Because you never did anything with Steve, didn’t you?”

“How do-” you start, shocked to discover she knows.

“It’s a small town and you really thought the neighbours wouldn’t see you sneaking in a boy in our own house?”

“You sneaked in a boy?” your father angers.

“And according to Miss Johnson, it went on for several months,” your mom specifies, “aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”

At this sentence, the tiny bit of hope you still had about your parents disappears. You can’t believe your own mother is against you. You’re getting used to the reputation people gave you but hearing your own mother implying you’re less than good because of your relationship is the final blow. You can’t understand how liking a boy could destroy everything.

“Steve and I got together after he broke up with Nancy, I almost wasn’t talking to him when he was still dating her. Steve was my boyfriend and we did nothing wrong!” you defend yourself, feeling the tears coming.

“Of course and you did nothing wrong when you attacked this poor Jessica.”

“Poor Jessica? She insulted me and hit me. I did nothing. Why don’t you want to believe me? I’m your own daughter and yet, you’d rather believe Jessica than me.”

“The facts are here!” Your father yells. “Besides, we should have reacted a long time ago, have you seen your grades? Do you really think you’re going to pass your year like this?”

“My grades are getting worse because I’m going through a living hell at school.”

“Stop playing the victim! We have enough of your behaviour. You have to do better and quickly. Go to your room right now! And don’t forget to apologise to Jessica.”

Tired of screaming in the void, you don’t answer your mother’s order and run to your room. Mad, you slam the door behind you. Normally, you’d be scared to hear more reproaches however at this moment, it’s the least of your concerns.

You throw yourself on your bed and you hold back a scream of frustration. You can’t understand why your own parents don’t have your back. They didn’t even try to listen to you, they only blame you some more. You know it’s stupid yet a part of you was hoping they would understand. You were wrong, no one is on your side; you didn’t think it possible, yet, you feel even more alone.

If you thought you already were the public enemy, the second you get back to school the following day, you realise it’s worse. Everyone is staring at you, you’re called even more names just like the whisperings got worse. You’re being even more discreet than usual - if it’s possible - wanting to keep to yourself.

In hindsight, you tell yourself you wouldn’t recommend dating boys with exes, it’s not worth all the pain and all the bullying that comes with it, in particular if the boy in question ignores you.

When you go to your last class of the day, you wish you could say you’re finally about to breathe but you still have detention. You have to stay at school a few more hours.

Sitting at your usual seat in your history class, you put your notebook on your desk. Your eyes land on the last page you wrote until they fall on the inscription carved on the desk: “the slut of Hawkins = Y/N.” It’s not the first time you see those words, it’s actually on this very table you discovered your life was about to change before you could do something about it. Despite the time, those words still feel like a knife in your chest. You distinctly remember the moment where everything fell apart.

You were behind the school building with Steve. You had been together for four months but contrary to the first three, it wasn’t going on so well between you two. You didn’t get along anymore. No matter your effort to hold him close, it was always ending in an argument. The main reason for it was that you were more invested in this relationship than Steve. You had noticed this the moment you had tried to get closer to him at school.

“I’m not asking for a lot, Steve! I’m not asking to make out with you in front of everyone, I just want to, at least, be able to talk with you without you ignoring me. I’m your girlfriend and yet, it looks like you don’t know me.”  you pleaded, mad and desperate.

“You said you wanted to keep our relationship for us.” Steve retorted, avoiding your eyes.

“That was before it became more serious between us. I like you and I want to say you’re my boyfriend.”

“I know but you know that with Nancy-”

“What are you bringing her into this? She moved on, unlike you! She’s with Jonathan, I don’t think she cares if you’re dating again. Why are you searching for an excuse? I thought you liked me, too.”

“It’s true.”

“Really? It doesn’t look like it!” you said, outraged. “I feel like I’m alone in this relationship. Everytime I take a step towards you, you push me away. I’m getting tired of it. I don’t even know why I even try to save our relationship when it’s clear you don’t care.” you finished, going inside the building.

“Y/N, wait-” he tried to hold you back.

“No, we’re done, Steve!”

That day, you ended your relationship with Steve, signing at the same time the end of your peaceful life in high school. While you were arguing, someone had heard you and had twisted the whole story. Before you could react, the rumours had started to fly a few days later at school that you had ruined the relationship with Nancy and Steve by seducing him. There was nothing you could do to correct the rumours. Just because you liked a boy, you got judged as a homewrecked and you had to accept your sentence.

Emails I Can't Send Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

[elisysd]

8. Need you more than I want to

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack : Shameless - Camila Cabello

He was the last person you expected to be in front of your door, but here he was. Seeing him there, a little disheveled, his hair a mess, had the effect of sobering you up. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked. “How did you get my room number?”

He didn’t answer, only arched an eyebrow and it made you sighed. You were annoyed, frustrated, in total disbelief. You couldn’t understand why he was there. You couldn’t find a justification that would be important enough for him to find you there. 

“I have my ways to get what I want.”

“Of course… little prince of Monaco. It comes with perks. One of them being to disturb the privacy of people, I assume.” you bitterly commented. 

“I want an explanation”

“You want an explanation?” you repeated. 

“Your behavior, your questions! I don’t understand them! I don’t understand you! I thought we were friends, that we built something and you are still the annoying girl I’ve met the first time in Bahrain! What did I do? I deserve to know.”

“You deserve? Deserve? Who do you think you are? It’s not because we have a good relationship outside of the tracks that I have to change the ways I do my job. I’m not here to please you, I’m not here to praise you, I’m not here to pat you on the back. It’s not what is asked from me. If you don’t like it, that is your problem not mine. I’m staying professional out there.”

You were harsh, you knew it and saying you were enjoying drawing a line between your personal relationship with Charles and the one you had on the tracks, was a big fat lie. 

“And where was your professionalism when you were dancing and flirting with Mick?” he asked, furious.

You took a step back, as if his bitter question had physically hurt you. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes. You briefly closed them and proceeded to ignore him as you made your way to your door, not hesitating to push him a little. You wouldn’t make him the pleasure to see you hurt. You fumbled with your key until you managed to open your door and entered the room. You were not quick enough to prevent Charles from following you inside. 

“Mick is my friend.”

“So you do make friends with some drivers, nice to know. Make you even more hypocrite than I thought.”

“Mick and I understand each other. Not that I should justify myself to you.”

“I understand you too! I try to! I’m trying here, can’t you see? But you prefer to push me away  because you know what? You are scared. You are scared of the bond we could have. So you’re fleeing, like a coward.”

It made you snap.

“You have no right to stand here and judge me. When did I give you the permission to do so? We are friends. I let you in, despite everything I let you in. I told you about my brother, I let you see me be vulnerable, I’ve done more things with you than with any other drivers and here you are, asking for what? More? I give you enough, Charles! And maybe I could give you even more but I need time! I need to find the right balance between professional and personal and yeah, fine, maybe it was not right of me to be like that with you. But I’m trying! I will make mistakes but I don’t want you to throw them in my face every damn time. And if you can’t handle that, then maybe it’s best if you leave and if we stop being friends.”

You swore you had seen a flash in his eyes and before you even had time to register what was happening, you felt his hands around your waist and his lips on yours, kissing you like his life depended on it. Before you could even process it, you kissed him back as his teeth bit your lower lip. And that’s when you finally fully understood what was going on. You let go of him, took a step back and before you even knew it, you felt your hand moving on its own to slap his face, getting him out of the trance he was in. 

“Y/N… I… I’m sorry, I just…  I don’t know where that comes from, I…” he stuttered. 

“Leave, Charles. I think it’s best.” you calmly answered, opening the door as you saw him rushing out, without a second glance to you. 

You were a coward. He was right. Because if you had just an ounce of bravery you wouldn't seriously consider not attending Barcelona. How could you face him? How would you be able to do your job properly? Your thoughts were all over the place. You were thinking about his lips on yours, about his hands around your waist and how good it felt. He was even haunting you in your dreams. Very sweet dreams that were making you blush whenever you were thinking about them.  As the race was approaching you were feeling more and more anxious to the point your work was starting to pay the price, something Marion ended up noticing. When she confronted you, you simply said that you were not feeling good lately.

“If you want to skip Barcelona, you can. I can cover for you. I know how tiring traveling can get. If you need to sit this one out, don’t worry, okay?” she reassured you and never you had felt so relieved. 

“I want to come, I just don’t feel good enough for the interviews.”

“So you can be in the pitlane at the start, if it is more convenient for you.”

“I would like that.”

“Did something happen? You loved the interviews.” she asked. 

“No!” you answered a little too fast for your liking. “It’s just the perspective of staying in a crowded place, with little space to move… And I want to experiment something new.”

“Then it is settled! The pitlane will be waiting for you.”

Hell on earth. That’s what Barcelona felt like to Charles. He was not happy at all about his performance, nor was he of the team’s. He was pissed off. About everything but as much as he was trying to convince himself otherwise, he knew the underlying issue. An issue that could be summed up in five letters. A kiss. A stupid kiss. It was a mistake and he couldn’t believe how stupid he could have been?  His multiple texts, sent as apologies, had stayed unanswered. But he understood. He messed up, probably scared you off and he was the only one to blame. 

“Charles, you have to leave the room, I don’t want an aggressive driver during our meetings.” Fred had firmly said when he had blown up in anger.

He couldn’t let his private life influence his driving and his relationship with the team. And he couldn’t keep lying to himself. He had to act on his feelings properly or he had to forget about you. There was no in between. But in any case, he had to talk to you and you had to listen. He knew you were around and he was determined to make you listen. 

Y/N

Can we talk? 

We have to. 

We NEED to.

He saw his texts immediately opened and it gave him hope. 

Please. It won’t be long. 

When he noticed the three dots indicating you were typing he almost let out a sigh of relief. 

You’re right. We have to. 

You sent him your address and the time she would be there. An hour. It was a lot of time to think about what he was going to tell you and at the same time it was not enough. He felt like a high school teenager about to confess to his crush and he felt so stupid. It had never happened to him before. He usually was confident around women, he knew how good looking he was and how charming he could be. But with you, he was a mess. You were making him so nervous. A mix of good kind and bad kind. He didn’t know how you would react, if you would slap him again or kiss him until you both would be out of breath. He liked an option better than the other.

He had bought tulips on his way to your door. And when he was in front of it, he suddenly found the idea very stupid. It’s not like you would be able to keep them. But it was reassuring for him, maybe it would make you smile. The door finally opened, revealing you, still in your work clothes. You were so pretty. He had always noticed it but today you were pretty in a candid way. It made him gulp, especially since you were still very silent as you sat down on your bed looking at him, waiting for his next move. Move he had no idea what it would be. So he started pacing the room, hoping to find the right words, the flowers still in hands. He finally stopped, ran a hand in his hair and looked at you. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. Especially because of the reasons that led me to kiss you. I admit, I was jealous of Mick. A real and fat feeling of jealousy like I’ve never experienced before. Seeing you laugh with him and be your carefree self with someone other than me made me feel things I didn’t expect to feel. It was stupid and selfish to hope that the side of you that you've shown me in New York would be for me only. You told me about your brother, you gave me access to your life in New York, the way you acted around me and then the friendly texts… I think I got confused. Maybe I misread the entire situation. For that I’m sorry. Bur gosh, I’m not sorry to have kissed you. It made me realize that my feelings were everything but friendly. I have a crush on you. I like you a whole lot. It’s stupid, I know. But it is there. It exists. And I can’t help it.” he said in one breath.

You sighed and stood up, moving next to him and taking his free hand in yours. 

“I can’t reciprocate it, Charles. I’m so sorry.”

“You can’t or you don’t, because these are two different things? he asked, slightly hurt but expecting your answer and when he saw you hesitating he knew not everything was lost. That he was right to hope. 

“You’re nice and caring and you did it, you know. You showed me that there were not only assholes out there. Your presence in my life is a breath of fresh air and the companionship I didn't know I needed. I value our friendship. A lot more than what you can imagine. But I don’t want to sacrifice my career. It’s my dream and my little brother’s. He wanted to see me there and I won’t jeopardize it. I can’t. I would never forgive myself if I was messing it up. For Luc, I can’t do that.” you explained, tears in your eyes.

Charles slowly got closer, caressed your cheek and put two fingers under your chin in order to make you look at him. He could read the dilemma you were going through and it hurt him more than a rejection would have. 

“I understand. But you don’t have to choose. You can have your career and you can have me.”

You shook your head. 

“As much as I would like it, it doesn’t work like that, Charles. I don’t think it’s possible.”

“And I think you’re wrong. Let me show you that you can have the best of both worlds.”

You let out a small laugh. He would not give up. 

And his promise started the next day as you were checking in at the airport. 

“You’ve been upgraded to first class, Miss.”

“Wait, what?” you asked, as Marion and Jean let out an impressed sigh. 

“Well, you’re registered as a first class passenger in our online base.”

“But how?” you insisted. 

“I don’t know, miss, and it’s not really my problem now if you can move out of the way, you’re not the only passenger.”

You reluctantly moved to let Marion and Jean check in. As they were doing so, you took you phone out to find a text from Charles and suddenly, it was all clearer. 

Would you be with me, that would become your daily life.

Those few words messed with your head during the whole flight and when you finally got back to your flat. You were exhausted. Your best friend was supposed to arrive soon and you hoped that she would be able to make you forget about Charles. You took a quick shower and soon the doorbell rang, telling you that she had arrived. She jumped into your arms, begging you to tell her everything. 

“I don’t have much to tell. It was work, you know.” you avoided her look on you, preparing water to boil. 

She sneaked next to you and moved her head to the side, her eyes staring at you, making you uncomfortable. 

“There’s something you are not saying.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You can never shut up about your job when I ask you questions and I find you very quiet right now. Spill.”

And you spilled. In details, from the moment you met Charles to Miami, to New York and the kiss in Monaco, ending your story to his confession in your hotel room. You were out of breath when you finished talking and you could feel your cheeks burning. 

“Atta girl. You have an F1 driver at your feet and you don’t jump on the occasion? What is wrong with you? “

“Why can’t anyone understand that it might cause conflicts with my job? Like bias, conflicts of interests… I can’t!” you sighed, annoyed. 

“Okay, fine, I get it. Now let me ask you something different. Imagine you’re not a journalist. In another world, you and Charles work a very tedious 9 to 5 job. You both end up in a bar, for an after work event. He sees you across the room, you do too and you think that damn, he is good looking. And he finds you pretty too. So he comes and buys you a drink that you accept, because who says no to free alcohol? Anyway, you have a chat and it lasts until the bar has to close. You were so deep into your conversation that you both didn’t notice the crowd leaving and the hour approaching the early hours of the next day. And then, he asks you out for a real date, because he finds in you everything he is searching for. What are you saying?”

You closed your eyes, imagined the scene and let a warm and comforting feeling settle in your chest. A smile escaped you. It felt nice. Peaceful. For the first time in a very long time, you felt excited about the perspective of something new, no matter how scary that could be. 

“I would have said yes.” you replied, opening your eyes.

“Then maybe you should hold onto that and give the poor guy a chance. You never know what could happen.” she smiled. 

And when she finally left your flat, after hours of talking, you took your phone and sent a text to Charles. A bold and thrilling feeling running through your body when you press send. 

Do you still want to prove to me that I can have the best of both worlds?

Author's note: Happy Easter everyone! Here's a little gift from me to you to celebrate! I knew you were waiting for that kiss... hehe

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

If you wanna be part of the taglist, let me know.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @thirstylion @cmleitora @charizznorizz @sltwins @boherahpsody @herondalism @roseamongthorns13 @aundercover @snowflakesfluff @fictional-l0v3r

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[hihiitscai]

Dimension 20 moments that have hit me right where it hurts (spoilers ahoy):

Fantasy High

"My parents just left and I don't know where they are"

"Having panic attacks? That is not a character flaw, you understand?"

"I do not know why I was so easy to discard"

"Will you be my big sister? I'd really like for you to be my big sister"

"In the same way that your heart feels and your mind thinks, you, mortal beings, are the instrument by which the universe cares. If you choose to care, it cares. If you don't, it doesn't"

"It's Gorgug, keep going"

Unsleeping City

"You can't take other peoples' reality away to be real

"You come for my family, you come for my friends, I will drop you"

"I am faithful! I was faithful! I would have continued to be faithful!"

"You know, just kind of when you're already in a shame spiral and then people are good to you, it almost stings a little bit worse"

"I owe you an explanation, and an apology"

"You're not done yet, kid"

"Hey, I want you all to meet Langston Brown"

“My love—for you are my love, my one true love: you don’t need to enter, because you are already here. You do not need to become real, because you already are”

“American dreams change”

Crown of Candy

"Don't let them kill me" "I will die before they kill you"

"My last wish is for you to come home"

"Bring her back!"

"Hello, Liam"

"You can be my sister or you can be my queen but I cannot give you both"

"Even something as primal as a dragon can be changed by the wish for a better world"

“I misjudged you, chancellor.” “Oh, shut up”

Misfits and Magic

"I have the best friends...nothing I'm ever gonna do is worth endangering any of that"

"You're not GOING anywhere!"

A Court of Fey and Flowers

“You’re more than just a goblin”

“They’re good things to me”

“Thank you for allowing me to see you. It is an honor that I will never disgrace”

“He turns to join the goblins, and in that moment, knows himself a coward”

“Thank you for seeing me”

“You guys are alive, and there’s nothing wrong with that”

“If you are orphaned then so am I, and you will never know a lonely day again, not while I draw breath”

Mice and Murder

“You being duped is the only lie I can’t believe”

“I forgive you”

“I’ve never truly been in love”

“I will not change for you so you may as well just give me up”

The Seven

“Thanks for showing up”

Neverafter

“I don’t know what I might do to try to get in”

"If I was so dead, where was my funeral?! Where’s my headstone?"

“But when you’re gone, I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be fighting for”

“It’s only gotten harder to make friends, now”

“It is as painful to lose as it is wonderful to have”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Soft Eddie Munson moments cuz I’m soft for him.

This lanky bastard likes cuddles, this has been reiterated constantly but I couldn’t help but agree with the majority on this one. I firmly believe that Eddie enjoys the cuddles where he could lay his head on your chest and indulge himself in your existence, tugging you closer to him based off of the fact that Munson couldn’t get enough of you whilst letting out a sigh of relief that he’d been holding back for awhile.

Though I also feel like you’d have clothes that you could both comfortable get yourselves under without much struggle because Eddie thought it’d be a good idea for you two to bond whist you only went along with it because it meant getting more cuddly affection time out of him. So it was a win/win for everyone included which was only you and Eddie.

He’s not afraid of PDA but I’d like to think that even he has limitations of how much public affection he could take before it became too much. So naturally it became common to find Eddie smothering you with affection before you were forced to part ways for prolonged periods of time that only made you both eagerly await your reunion like the dramatic dumbasses you were. Hugs, forehead touches, kisses, you name it Eddie has smothered you in them but there would be times where Eddie preferred linking pinkies with you as you walked through town together as to not draw attention to yourselves.

He acts like he doesn’t give a shit about what anybody thinks of him when we all know that’s been proven to be a pile of horseshit when it’s blatantly apparent that Eddie infect does care about public opinion, a lot so that you would walk in on him during an moment of insecurity whenever he got emotional. He’d try to hide it from you in fear that your perspective of him would change if he did shed a tear in your presence and that you’d laugh at him but would be prove wrong when you only sat by him.

Allowing yourself to become the shoulder he cries on as he bears his soul out to you about everything he’s let weighed upon his shoulders thus far and it brought s tear to your eyes just hearing the raw and painful emotions he emitted from his throat that you wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve let s tear or two slip past your cheeks. It’s a moment of vulnerability between you two but that’s what ultimately made your bond even stronger then before because to see one’s self in a vulnerable state was something that shouldn’t be taken for granted as humans weren’t known to be the most open with one another due to our complexities. Needless to say it would act as a blessing in disguise for the two of you.

You could read him like a book and admittedly Eddie hated it at first but overtime grew fond of it as it meant that he didn’t have to put on a facade with you and respected you whenever you called his bluff before stating otherwise. You didn’t treat him like everyone and their pretentious parents/relatives/guardians did and he held mad respect for you when you had the guts to defend Eddie from anyone spewing shit behind his back like a coward or saying it to his face whilst getting up close and personal. It made him melt at the fact that he wasn’t the only one protecting himself anymore almost as though you were a team of two instead of a lonely team of one. A dream team if you will. It was exciting.

You’d spend most of your time adventuring together, exploring the woods like little kids would, imagining it to be the enchanted forest of a mystical kingdom and that your characters were the brave and vigilant co-protagonists that ventured into it’s depths in search of awesome stories whether they’d be your own or others to share, knowing you had one another to fall back on when things got rough.

With Eddie there was never a wrong time to let your inner child play. To run wild while you still had the chance. With Eddie your imagination could go anywhere you wanted it to go and he would be there to encourage you with his one fascinating imaginations which has less to many a collaborations in the past as you’d each give a plot of land a name, a history, it’s culture, it’s traditions, it’s people to such an insane level of detail.

Given how easily it was to flow ideas between the two of you it’s less many to speculate that you and Eddie had an almost psychic link which would only be then added to your characters in yours and Eddie’s fantasies for plot convenience. It’s cute.

I’d feel as though Eddie likes domestic, slow moments where it’s just you and him sat on top of somewhere with some snacks between the pair of you with drinks a plenty to share and spare as he’d tell you about practically everything since he’d have a incredibly hard time trying to hide things for you seeing as how he values your respect and trust above anything else. You’d be the first to know about a lot of things actually that when you return the sentiment by telling him things before telling anyone else showed him that you held him in just as high regard as he did you.

You’d could even just be sitting in absolute silence and Eddie would find some way to make it sound as though you’ve done a thousand things. He’s a puppy dog when it comes down to it and no I will not elaborate on that you’ll just have to trust my judgment.

He even loves seeing you wear his denim jacket or his T-shirts but not in the ‘they’re my property’ kind of way but more of a ‘oh my god, holy shit their wearing my clothes?! This beautiful and or handsome person likes me enough to feel comfortable to be seen in my clothes that’ll probably smell like them by the end of the day. I’m a lucky bastard, I’m jealous of myself.’ Kind of way as he’d watch you shrug his clothing on from the doorway, sheepishly smiling as he cast his eyes downwards so that you wouldn’t see his flustered stare but it would already be too late as you’ve already seen his lingering gaze and softened eyes gaze at your being with a sense of euphoria you haven’t seen before that left you feeling more confident then before.

Eddie is awkward when it comes to love. There I said it but he’d be so certain that you were the one for him that he didn’t even bother hiding it because to him it was bound to happen eventually, seeing how happy you made one another with just the mere thought of being within each others presence that overtime everyone, even Eddie himself, would fully believe that you were already a thing and hilarity would ensue when you tried to correct them as Eddie only looked at you weirdly.

Person: how long have you been together?

Reader: we’re not together actually.

Eddie: we’re not?

Reader: no, you haven’t even asked me out Eddie.

Eddie: I haven’t? Are you sure? I’m not being pranked right now am I?

Reader: yeah because if you did I would’ve remembered it, which I don’t.

Eddie: …so what you’re telling me is that one time at the cinema didn’t count as a date?

Reader: I thought it was just an excuse for you to use so that we could hang out.

Yeah you’d learn to communicate better soon after because for you Eddie was entirely worth the effort and for Eddie you were entirely worth the effort.

[daughterofcain-67]

𝒞𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 (𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁)

(Dean Winchester x Artist/Bartender! Female Reader)

(𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 1) (𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 2)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: An argument leads Dean into finally confessing the truth of his career but before you can make the choice on whether or not you believe Dean you find out some disturbing news which awakens you to a harsh reality.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: character death (oc) i think that’s it

Things were about as tense as you thought they would be,. You had never felt this uncomfortable in your own home until this very moment as you stood here with Dean. But you supposed for the sake of your own sanity, you knew you would have to break the ice somehow.

“Make yourself at home I guess, agent.” You spoke and motioned for him to have a seat on the couch.

Dean walked further into your home and he straightened up the jacket from his suit, uncertain if he should bother with taking it off or not. But then something caught his eye. Dean started walking towards wine of your bookshelves, the one that had several sketchbooks you had from over the years.

“You mind if I have a look at one of these?” Dean asked.

You glanced over and saw he was looked it through your bookshelves. “Sure, have at it.”

Then you sat down on your windowsill and picked up your current sketchbook once more so you could get back to work on the cover art you were asked to do. Meanwhile, Dean pulled out a random book and he was slowly going through the pages.

As Dean looked at your work, he was amazed at the detail you put into it. You’ve definitely improved your skills over the years, though back in the day he didn’t know how you could have possibly gotten better. Obviously he was wrong.He continued to look through different sketchbooks but then there was one that he hadn’t expected to find.

This one had a photograph of the two of you glued to the first page. Then as Dean flipped through the pages he realized you had drawn pictures of him, each of them were dated and from what he could tell you often wondered what he would look like over the years or even what he did for a living, judging from the different uniforms you drew him in.

“I didn’t think you’re talents could get any better. You were already really good back then.” Dean finally spoke, but you ignored him.

Dean looked up at you and saw you were focused on your artwork. He closed the book he had in his palm before he put it back on the bookshelf and he walked over.

“What are you working on now?” He asked and started looking over your shoulder. He watched as you were drawing some sort of steampunk looking piece, as if it were some sort of Cinderella alternate reality.

“Cover ideas.” Your shortness didn’t surprise him but it still stung nonetheless. He let out a sigh before he tried to speak again.

“Look, at the bar I didn’t mean for you to misunderstand anything. I was really happy to see you there.”

“Dean, what was there to misunderstand? You’re an agent here to do a job and walk right out of my life all over again, leaving me with no clue as to where you’re going or if you even care to see me ever again. Danielle was right. And I should have forgotten about you decades ago.”

“It’s not as heartless as it sounds. I can’t afford to just catch up with anyone i want to, I can’t afford any kind of closeness with anybody. You have no idea how many enemies I’ve made with this job, how many innocent lives have been ruined, how many people have gotten hurt or worse just because they knew me.” Dean tried to explain but you scoffed and tossed your sketchbook to the side.

“That’s a coward’s answer. Lots of FBI agents have families. That means they’re brave enough to take the risk. But I get it, a simple conversation that isn’t work related isn’t worth the risk. I’m not worth the risk, I get it.”

“Y/N, that’s not what I’m saying!”

“Isn’t it though? It may not be your exact words but that’s the implication.” You got up from your spot and started walking to the kitchen.

Dean’s jaw tightened and his brows narrowed before he started to follow you into the kitchen.

“Alright, you want the truth?! This job sucks and I’ve gotten attached to people like you and the moment I let my guard down, ninety percent of the time those people die. Knowing me is a death sentence. My brother and I have lost too many people because of it. I can’t let you die like that because some monster takes it upon itself to break in and gut you up just because you know me.”

You, under the impression Dean was using the word ‘monster’ as some term for a serial killer or some sick sort of human being, scoffed. “Please, I’m plenty capable of protecting myself against some killer. You make it sound like the Boogyman’s after you.”

“The thing that killed your friend could easily kill you too and you can’t protect yourself from any of them, Y/N! You don’t know the kind of shit that’s out there. I didn’t expect you to be a part of this job and trust me if you weren’t involved I wouldn’t even be here.”

“Thanks, Dean. That makes me feel a thousand times better. And what kind of thing do you think will come after me, huh? Nothing could be that bad. Bad people do eventually get caught.” You said and you opened the refrigerator door to grab something to drink.

Dean rubbed a hand over the lower half of his face, wondering if he really needed to risk telling you the truth after all. You were being so difficult but you didn’t even understand the shit he’s ever seen.

“The think that’s killing your coworkers and your boss’ wife isn’t just any bad guy. You have no idea what we’re going up against.” Dean’s voice was a little calmer, yet still deadly serious. You turned around to see if he’d elaborate or if he’d keep you in the dark just as he always has.

“The business that I told you I was in with my brother and my dad… it’s sort of um.. a traveling extermination business. Sam isn’t my partner in the FBI. Neither of us are agents. He’s my brother, and we hunt monsters. Vampires, werewolves, demons, doppelgängers… every ugly ass creature you can think of, we’ve probably killed before.” Dean finally confessed.

Your brows arched upward with shock. This was the excuse Dean decided to give you? This was why he avoided you all these years and he really expected you to believe he was hunting monsters like Van Helsing? Yeah right.

“Monsters? Really? Dean if you aren’t going to tell me the truth I think you should just leave. I don’t want to see you around here anymore.” You said, growing angrier the more you saw him, hurting even more knowing he would lie to your face like this.

“Y/N, name someone in this town that would gut innocent people and steal their hearts. That’s something a werewolf has been known to do in my field and they are stronger than you can handle.” He was still insisting you believe these lies?!

“Dean, I’m serious. I’m not buying this story of yours, okay? Why don’t you just go with Sam to make sure Danielle and her boyfriend are alright.” You said and when you went to brush past him, you felt his strong grip on your upper arm and you looked up at him.

“This isn’t just a story, Y/N. It’s the ugly reality.” He told you and you searched his eyes.

What the hell had Dean seen over the years that made him so sincere about this? You swore he had to be crazy if he expected you to believe this whole monster thing like he believed it. But before you could ask any questions about it, Dean’s phone started ringing.

Dean sighed a little before he let go of your arm just to answer the phone, figuring it must’ve been Sam.

“Sam? What’s happening?”

“Dean, it was Danielle’s boyfriend. He was one of them. Danielle and I were safe and I took care of Chris but maybe one of his guys broke in and knocked me out or something. I can’t find Danielle anywhere. They took her belongings too. I don’t know where they could have taken her.” Sam said on the other line.

You must’ve heard bits and pieces of what Sam was saying because when Dean looked at you, he saw the stunned expression on your face and he watched as you started looking around to find your shoes to put on.

“Are you sure they took her? What if she had something to do with it? Did you do the test on her?” Dean asked.

“Test? What test? Dean what the hell is going on?!” You asked, wanting to know if your friend was alright. What test could they have possibly been talking about? None of this made any sense.

“I’ll explain in a second just hang on, alright? Sam, how fast can you get here?” Dan asked, turning his attention back to his brother.

“I couldn’t tell you. You and I may have to meet somewhere on foot. They took the car.” Sam said and Dean’s eyes went wide.

“You let them take the car?! What happened to you being the responsible brother, huh?” Dean asked and he ran a hand through his hair.

“Wait wait.. I found something. Dean it’s a notebook with all the workers’ addresses on them. Y/N’s name is circled. She’s bound to be next and I don’t see Danielle’s name anywhere on this list.” Sam explained and that was when Dean heard the familiar roar of the impala from outside.

“I think she’s here. Sam, You need to find Nelson and find out what the hell happened on that hunt.” Dean said sternly and your brows narrowed with confusion.

“Nelson? How can he be a part of this? What hunt are you talking about? He’s not a hunting kind of guy.” You said, thinking Dean meant hunting wildlife and you still refused to believe this whole monster killing story.

Dean hung up the phone before he looked over at you while shoving the phone in his pocket, “You need to go in your room. Lock the door and don’t you dare come out until I tell you it’s safe.”

“Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on, Winchester! What happened to my friend?”

Dean shook his head, “She stopped being your friend a long time ago. I need you to just trust me and stay out of the way until I tell you it’s safe. I promise I’ll explain everything when this is over.”

As much as you desperately wanted to argue with Dean, you could tell from the look on his face that he wasn’t going to argue because this was no longer up for any debate, let alone discussion. You bit your tongue to keep from saying anything else and you walked towards your bedroom and shut the door behind you. But you didn’t lock the door as Dean advised. If what Dean was saying was really true, then you had to see it for yourself.

Dean took the gun he had from behind his back and he made sure there was plenty of ammunition. Once he found he had plenty of silver bullets on him, he made sure to keep it on him so he’d be prepared for when Danielle would come in. No wonder she seemed hesitant to leave with Sam. She had a job to do and he was willing to bet she was the one that killed Callie. Some actress.

Before Dean could even think about anything else, the door was suddenly kicked down and not only was it Danielle that walked through the door but there were two guys that were about Sam’s height dressed in leather like they were a couple of bikers from the bar or something. Sort of matched the charisma, or lack of, that Callie’s former boyfriend was talking about.

“Well well… You were just gonna spend the night with your friend and when she least expected it, you’d kill her like you killed Callie, huh?” Dean said as he lifted the gun to aim at their direction.

“Oh what would you know. Nelson deserves what he’s got coming. But it serves him right to watch everything he worked for fall apart, just like he did with my father’s pack.” Danielle seethed.

You could faintly hear the conversation from behind your bedroom door and your heart sank. Danielle was going to kill you? That was why she asked if she could spend the night? Why would she do that? She was one of your good friends, or at least that’s what you hoped. Clearly you were wrong, but what was this talk about a pack?

You reached up and carefully turned the knob, doing your best to keep quiet and you slowly started to open the door so you could hear things a little bit better. You simply cracked it open, not wanting to give your location away completely.

“Come on, you know Y/N better than anyone and you knew Callie better than anyone. You know damned well neither of them deserve what you’re doing to them. They’re good people and you know it.” You could hear Dean say but Danielle scoffed.

“My father was a good man before your kind took it upon yourselves to massacre my family! We never hunted anyone, strictly animals because my father wanted to be civilized. Live under the radar and stay clear of hunters. But Nelson… Nelson decided all of us are the same ugly things that keep you up at night. When he killed my family there was anarchy. I took the lead and said to Hell with it, we’re going after Nelson in the most.. traditional.. way possible. Show him the monsters he wanted us to be.” You could hear Danielle say, but your heart sank down to your feet.

Dean was right, she must’ve never been your friend if this was her plan all along. You felt so naive, gullible and stupid.

“Come on, Danielle, don’t make me pull this trigger on you and your friends. You think this is what your family would have wanted you to become?” Dean retorted.

“Who cares how I avenge them. This is how I’m getting my payback against Nelson and I’m not letting you, Sam, or any other hunter stand in my way.” Danielle said and from what you heard a fight broke out after that.

You heard furniture get moved around, you flinched at the sound of a vase shattering to the floor. Slowly, you moved to where you could look through the crack in the door. You finally saw the truth of what was out there. Your friend and her two companions had fangs, their fingernails turned to claws, their eyes changed color. You couldn’t believe what you saw, and you didn’t think werewolves could possibly be real. All of it felt so unbelievable.

Your eyes widened when you saw Dean get knocked to the ground. You didn’t know what to do but you could tell that Dean was starting to lose the fight. Everything in your was screaming to help him but you didn’t know how to fight these things. What if you did something wrong and Dean died because of you?

Still, as Dean was wrestling with one of the werewolves on the floor you saw him drop the gun and the weapon slid on the ground towards your door. This was your chance to do something. You just hoped that things wouldn’t go wrong.

You took in a deep breath before you opened the door wider and stepped out of the room.

Dean heard the door creaking open and he saw you standing there. Were you nuts?! What the hell were you doing?!

“Y/N! Get back inside!” He called out but he watched as you ignored him and rushed to get to the gun and you picked it up.

You could feel your heart beating fast and before you could think, you realized one of the wolves was coming after you and you aired the gun and you closed your eyes before you took a shot. When you opened one of your eyes, you saw that the werewolf was on the ground with a gunshot wound to the chest.

The werewolf above Dean was distracted by the gunshot and when the creature looked over at you, Dean took the opportunity take a shot and kick the werewolf off of him. Then, Dean rushed over to you while you were stunned about what you’ve done.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You did what you needed to, now go back to the room and I’ll finish up.” Dean said and you hesitantly nodded as you backed away and stayed in your room but you couldn’t help but to keep watching everything unfold in front of you.

You watched as Dean was fighting both Danielle and the other man she came with and Dean managed to shoot the man Danielle was with and she knocked out your former friend. The next thing you knew, Dean stood over the unconscious creature and shot her in the heart so she’d never wake up again.

You didn’t know what you should be feeling in that moment. Should you be angry that Danielle was never your friend, but a monster? Should you be angry that Dean had knocked out the person you thought was your ally?

When you slowly walked out of your bedroom again you walked over to your friend. You saw the claws on her fingers and her fangs still showed. You wondered if this was just some sort of never-ending nightmare. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do and it felt like you had been blind to so many things your entire life. Your world was turning upside down.

Dean saw the look on your face as you looked down at the corpse. He could tell you were questioning so many things right now and he never wanted things to be this way. He never wanted you to get wrapped up in this horrific bullshit of a hunting life and he never wanted you to know what was out there.

“Do you believe me now?” He asked softly, but you gave him no response.

“Y/N… I never wanted you to find out about any of this. That’s why I never told you much about my family or what we did.” He said in a gentler tone and you ran your fingers though your hair.

“Well now I know, Dean. I can’t just unsee everything that just happened.” You said softly and you felt a soft hand on your shoulder. You looked up and saw Dean looking up at you.

“Is it at least over now?” You asked.

“I’m not sure. It should be over if Danielle was the leader of this new pack, but I have to check with Sam if there were any indications of any other members of the pack and if he got in contact with Nelson again.” Dean replied and you looked back down at the body.

“She was the sweet one out of the three of us. She seemed so concerned about Callie when we hadn’t heard from her for several days… I never would’ve seen the attack coming.”

Dean frowned a little when you spoke, knowing all of this had to be a lot to take in for you.

“Let me call Sam and see if he’s got everything squared away on his end, if he was able to talk to Nelson and everything.” He said and you nodded as you walked away from the bodies and went to your bedroom again.

Dean watched you walking away, knowing your life was forever altered at this point. He pulled out his phone again and he dialed up Sam’s number. Luckily he didn’t need to wait long for an answer.

“Dean? Are you guys okay?”

“Yeah… turns out Danielle wasn’t as innocent as she lead on. She and two other wolves are dead.”

“How did Y/N take all of it? She alright?”

“Honestly I don’t know, Sammy… It might take her a little time with Danielle specifically. You get in contact with Nelson?”

“Well… yes and no.” Sam replied and Dean lifted a brow.

“What do you mean?”

“Well when I tried calling him there was no answer. So I took a taxi to his house and when I walked in, it looked like another attack. I guess someone caught word that you were facing the new leader and they wanted to make sure the main goal was accomplished so it looks like they killed Nelson before I had the chance to talk to him.”

“Shit… so what does that mean? Do you think they’ll still go after people working in the bar?” Dean asked.

“I’m not so sure… I think we may need to stay a few days and lie low to see what happens. It’s better to be safe than sorry.” Sam insisted and Dean looked over at your bedroom and saw you sitting on the corner of your bed, disassociating because of everything that transpired.

“Yeah… That might the best option. You think you can swing by to help me take care of these bodies and get Y/N somewhere safe? You said the werewolves had addresses in that notebook right? I think she may need to stay with us for a few days just incase anyone tries to go after her again.” Dean insisted.

“Yeah, just give me about fifteen minutes and I’ll be there.”

When Sam and Dean hung up, Dean walked over to the bedroom and towards you. He knelt in front of you and saw you were just spacing out and thinking of so many different things, he could practically see it on your face how lost you were.

“Hey, you’re gonna be okay. I promise.” He said and he placed a hand on one of your knees, which broke your trance and you looked down at his hand then back at him.

“Dean… I’ve never even shot a gun at a person before… I just killed someone.” You said in such a timid little tone.

“Y/N, you’ve got to realize that wasn’t a person. None of them were. Not anymore. They would have killed you, your coworkers, and who knows who else they would have killed if you hadn’t helped stop them.”

“Danielle… was a person to me. I can’t believe she lied to me like that. Then again what the hell do I know about anything anymore. You must think I’m so stupid for not listening to you before.” You scoffed and your eyes started welling up with tears, one slipping from your face and you swiftly wiped it away.

“It’s natural to have doubts. I know what I was telling you is hard for a lot of people to believe. I wasn’t expecting you to believe me instantly. Stuff like this isn’t easy to take in.” he continued and you looked back at Dean again.

“What am I supposed to do now? Where do I go from here? Am I going to get in trouble with the police? Surely my neighbors heard the gunshots.” You started to ramble.

“The cops are bound to show, but they still think Sammy and I are FBI agents. We claim self defense which unfortunately ended in fatalities.” Dean answered.

“You make it sound so simple.”

“This isn’t my first rodeo, Sweetheart.” Dean said before he moved his hand from your knee and he held one of your hands.

“But as far as beyond the police are concerned… We don’t know if there are more werewolves. So after Sam and I handle the police when they come, I think it would be better if you stayed with me and Sam. Just for a few days until we know there won’t be anymore attacks against you or any of your other coworkers. They have your address so we don’t think you’ll be safe here right now.” He continued.

You bit down on your bottom lip before you nodded a little, deciding to go with Dean after all. You didn’t exactly want to be alone after tonight, but maybe you’d be alright after a few days.

“Okay… Let me pack some clothes before I go with you.”

A few days went by and things seemed to settle down. You had found out Nelson passed away and the cops connected Danielle to the murders so they believed Dean’s claim of self defense. Not that you were really surprised. Dean seemed to be a pretty good liar when it came to the cops.

There weren’t anymore threats against you at least that you knew of, and now that it’s been a week of silence, Dean said it was safe for you to go back home and now you were riding with him in the impala.

The car ride was quiet, as if the both of you knew this week long journey was coming to a close and you weren’t sure if you would ever see him again. You wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t see him again, knowing he’d more than likely say the same things as he did in the argument before the attack. It was disheartening to know that Dean didn’t want to take a chance.

When the two of you made it to your apartment, it was like nothing had ever happened. Only because Sam and Dean went out of their way to clean up the bodies. Naturally some things did need some replacing like the vase, or the living room couch that had been splattered with blood, but you would get those things on your own since you had been looking into buying a new couch anyway. But it was sweet that Sam and Dean took it upon themselves to help as much as they could.

“Well… I guess this is the part where I take off.” Dean said and you looked over at him.

“Why don’t you stay for dinner? I’m a crummy cook but I can order something. My treat. It’s really the least I can do after you saved me and helped clean the place up after everything.” You insisted.

Lucky for you, Dean didn’t really put up much of a fight so he followed you into your home. Dean sat at one of the love seats since you no longer had a couch at the moment and you sat down on the recliner as you pulled out your laptop to see what you should order.

“Chinese sound alright to you?” You asked and Dean smiled a little.

“Whatever you want to order’s fine.” He replied and you pouted a little.

“Dean, this is supposed to be for you as a thank you. I need a little help here since I’m not exactly a mind reader.” You said and Dean let out a little chuckle before he tried to think.

“What about a burger and some fries?” He said then it was your turn to smirk.

“Diner food again? Sure.” You snickered, “Want anything else with that?”

“Maybe some pie.” Dean said and somehow you knew that was a must, considering he just went through a whole pie in three days during the week you stayed with them.

“Sure thing.” You insisted and you started placing the order online for delivery and a couple of minutes later, the order was completed.

“It should be here in thirty minutes or so.” You said, shutting your computer and you set it down on the coffee table.

“You know you didn’t have to order anything.” Dean replied and you smiled.

“Again, it’s the least I could do.” You insisted

You and Dean were watching a show just to think of how to kill some time but the two of you settled on some sort of cartoon. You and Dean couldn’t find anything decent so the Boomerang channel seemed to be a better option at least for the time being.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“You don’t… have to hit the road after today, do you?” You asked and Dean looked at you.

“Well… I mean that’s what I normally do with cases. I never really stay in the same place for a long time. There’s a lot more than just werewolves to worry about and… and well it’s better if Sam and I kept on moving.” He said, looking away from you even though he could still feel your gaze on him.

“Don’t you ever just slow down? Catch a break? Surely there are other hunters out there that can handle the stuff you do.” You said and Dean shook his head.

“Not really… the stuff Sam and I see… they’re pretty much apocalyptic and we can’t put that on anyone else. It’s our responsibility, our burden to bare and it’s a death sentence to bring anyone else into it.” He said and you scoffed a little, causing him to look at you again.

“What?”

“You and your liking for the coward’s way out.” You said, recalling the argument again when he gave a shitty excuse as to why he didn’t get close to people.

“It’s not a coward’s way, Y/N. It’s reality. You saw yourself what’s out there. And I’m risking a lot just being here right now.” He said and you rolled your eyes before you got up and went to your room.

Dean lifted a brow before he got up and followed you. When he did he noticed you were looking for something and he couldn’t help but tilt his head as he leaned against the doorframe.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Looking for something.”

“I can see that.” He said and watched you pull out a box. He didn’t see a whole lot inside until you pushed it towards the end of the bed. That’s when he saw a few shirts and cassettes, mementos of that summer.

“You don’t realize how many lives you affect when you travel, Dean. I know I can’t possibly be the only girl you’ve come across just to leave behind. And from what I can tell, I’m not the only one that could have died but survived. But when you just leave people behind you take a piece of them with you and it’s like you don’t even realize it. You’re too blind with the whole idea of keeping your distance that you don’t realize the people you hurt along the way by not giving them a chance.”You began and Dean lifted a brow.

“Y/N, I’ve gave people chances and they still lose their lives. You’re right, you aren’t the only woman I’ve come across. But once I get too close they get killed. The last one got hurt severely so I had a friend erase her memory to forget everything about me. It’s to keep her safe and I can’t lose anyone else.” He told you.

“Do you realize how you’re making yourself sound, Dean?”

“What do you mean?”

“As far as hunting, you’re bound to be one of the strongest men that I know. Not that I know many- obviously. But what makes you a coward and what makes you selfish is the fact that you can’t allow yourself to be close to someone long enough to know if they’re willing to stay with you even if this life is tough. Hunting is scary shit, I know that now. But you don’t deserve to go through it alone. It’s unfair to you.” You said.

“I don’t deserve that sort of fairness. If you knew half the things I’ve done-“

“Do you think any of that matters to me, Dean?” You set the box down on the floor again before you walked towards him.

“I don’t know much of what you’ve done all these years, and I don’t know the pain you’ve gone through. But I know that no one should ever have to be alone like that. I can tell just by looking at you that you’ve been through a lot. You deserve to have someone by your side to at least give you some sort of relief from this life every once in a while, give you a break from your ‘apocalyptic’ stressors.” You said and took a bold move by taking one of his hands.

Dean looked down at your hand with his before lifting his gaze to meet your own.

“But what happens if you get hurt, or worse? I can’t stand that risk, not with someone like you.” He said gently and you sighed a little before you gave his hand a little squeeze.

“Didn’t you ever think about me accepting that risk? You can teach me a lot and I’m willing to learn. Obviously I won’t have as much experience as you and I never will, but you can teach me enough to defend myself so you won’t have to worry about me so much.” You were trying so hard to compromise and Dean could tell.

What seemed to surprise Dean the most was that you were actually willing to learn how to hunt. You were actually willing to be a part of this much shittier side of life. It was amazing that out of the choices you had, this was the one you were willing to make.

“What about your art? Or the bar?” He asked and you shrugged.

“I can still work on art. The bar was just to keep my lights on. And now that both my friends are dead… I don’t really have anything keeping me bartending.” You explained.

“But what if-“

“Stop with the what ifs and the hypotheticals. Please?” You said, practically begging him to stop trying to make excuses for you to not join him. You didn’t have anything left going for you here.

Dean looked down at the floor between both of you as he tried to think of his best options. So many things swirling through his head about how things could go wrong. How would be able to protect you? How quickly would you be able to learn everything he’d have to teach you? If anything they could always use the help with research while he and Sam were on the field. But what happens if you were researching while he and Sam were out on the field working and something happened to you while he wasn’t there?

You could practically see the gears turning in his mind with how so many things could go wrong and you reached up, touching his face gently.

“This is the kind of thing I’m talking about. You’re thinking about so much already. You have so much on your shoulders, I can see it.” You said softly and he started looking at you, gaze softening as he started to relax against your touch.

“You don’t deserve to carry that stress…” You whispered and leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek, close to his mouth.

“Let me be at least some sort of distraction.” He listened to your voice barely above a whisper and he could barely feel your lips against his cheek.

Dean carefully moved his head and your faces were so close to each other. One small movement and he’d have his lips over yours if either of you simply leaned forward.

“Do you think you could handle everything you’d distract me from?” He asked, his mind slowly starting to open up to the idea of you coming along even if he still had an overwhelming reluctance within himself. Still, he felt your thumb lightly graze his cheekbone.

“I wouldn’t be asking to go with you if I wasn’t willing to try. I could never fathom everything. You’ve been through, but I can try to make it easier even if it’s for a moment.”

Dean tucked his bottom lip between his teeth as if he were still thinking about it before he lifted a hand and brought it to the back of your neck. He felt the way you seemed to melt into him but all he could think of was how he let Jo and Lisa down.

“Please… just give me a chance.” Your voice broke him from his thoughts, or at least a strand of them. Only to start a new strand.

Dean started to think of the two weeks he spent with you. Those two weeks he had never felt so normal, even happy because of you. It was like the hunting world hadn’t even existed for that amount of time when he was with you even if he was supposed to be working on a job. Seeing you happy and realizing he could make the world safe, make sure you were safe, that’s what gave him the reason to hunt that summer. He thought back to the drawing you had given him, knowing he had never forgotten you over the years and knew he never could. He remembered the way you made him feel and a part of him now was screaming not to let you go like that again. John wasn’t in the picture anymore to lecture him like a child about who he told about hunting. He was a grown man and you were a grown woman, and you were begging him to take you along. He knew you were capable after watching you kill one of the werewolves when you were attacked. So why shouldn’t you come along?

He remembered just how Jo passed, how so many others have passed and who he’s lost and his jaw tightened for a moment.

“You have to promise me that you’ll listen to everything I tell you on a hunt, swear that you’ll listen to every precaution Sam and I tell you. When there is a plan, you stick to the plan so you don’t get hurt.” He said, tone stern with a certain gentleness about it.

You softened, realizing that he’d likely be so cautious with you and you wondered just how many people he’s lost with this life. But you knew that’s something you might never know. You could tell it was taking a lot for him to even think about you coming along.

“Promise.” You swore.

Dean then leaned down and he was so close to pressing his lips on yours. Your noses barely brushed against each other with how close he was and eat somehow he was already at ease. He didn’t know exactly what made it so easy, but it had felt like ages since he was able to feel this calm, decades since his mind finally slowed down just because of a small action like this.

The abrupt sound of someone knocking on the door interrupted the moment and the both of you pulled away before you had the chance to kiss. The voice on the other side of the door alerted you that it was just the delivery guy. He heard the way you sighed with a little irritation and he cracked a small smile at the reaction.

He let go of you so you could tend to the guy at the door. After you paid the guy you set the food on the coffee table just as he was walking out of your bedroom. You were in the process of pulling everything out of the plastic bags but Dean kept his gaze on you.

“I’m not kidding, though.” Dean said, his mind going back to the roller coaster it always was, but you gazed up at him.

“I know you’re serious. I’m not a child, Dean. I’ll be careful, but you and Sam will still need to teach me a few things. Plans have to change sometimes and we have to adapt. Nothing in life is cut and dry so you’ll have to trust me to take care of myself too.” You said, and that was the part Dean may have the issue with at least for a while.

“That… may take me a little time to do.” He warned and you walked over and handed him the bag with his burger in it.

“Naturally.” You replied and he was surprised you were taking this so well.

“I’m not expecting things to be smooth right away and for you to be so nonchalant with me on a hunt. So long as you’ll eventually be able to trust me on these things, then it’ll be fine. I’m a bit of a fast learner so we’ll get there eventually.” You promised before you sat down.

Dean listened and smiled slightly. He knew you’d need that determination. It’d be a good thing to have especially when he and Sam were both so close to having enough when it came to facing demons and angels. But trust.. he knew that would be the biggest thing he’d need to work on.

Dean knew he could trust you with certain things. He could trust your willingness to learn, trust your ability to adapt to a changed plan quickly, but he didn’t trust other factors of a case and when things would inevitably go wrong. Maybe the more you’d be around, the more he’d get better at that.

Either way… it would be nice to have you around, at least to let him forget about his own personal hell once in a while.

“You gonna join me or am I going to have to eat and watch Scooby Doo by myself?” You asked, breaking Dean away again. He smiled before he walked over to join you in the living room where you moved the seats closer to the coffee table.

One day it will be easier to let his worries go, easier to let the weight on his shoulders get a little lighter, and Dean hoped that maybe, just maybe, you’d be the one that could help him along that journey.

Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @nancymcl @jackles010378 @hobby27 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @blackcherrywhiskey @prettyinplaid94 @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @leigh70 @nk1023

[sleepanonymous]

In light of recent events (that I fully missed and only caught the resolution of), I figured maybe I should drag this post out of my drafts instead of sitting on it like a coward.

TLDR: It’s important to respect the band, but it’s equally as important to respect your fellow fan’s wishes to not know Sleep Token’s identities.

(These two asks are from the previous drama, not what happened yesterday.)

I’ve had those 2 anon asks sitting in my inbox from that drama last month with a Tumblr user revealing Sleep Token’s names in a rant post because the guys did not unmask during/after the Wembley ritual. I hate to bring this back up but I feel guilty because I pretty much tossed a barrel of toxic waste onto that existing dumpster fire and walked away as everything exploded. I’d gotten back to everyone who DMd me and sent non-anon asks, but couldn’t answer these two. I didn’t want to publicly put that tumblr blog on blast because I did not want it to look like I was trying to instigate a witch hunt.

I had planned on ignoring these two asks since I had no way to DM the anon users, but figured I may as well use this as an opportunity to talk about something else: Sleep Token’s identities and respecting the band member’s wishes to stay anonymous.

Nowadays it’s nearly impossible to simply look up “Sleep Token” and not have the guy’s names and/or faces spoiled. It’s not your fault if this has happened to you, and you aren’t a bad person or disrespecting the band. Even if you looked up the information on purpose, that doesn’t make you disrespectful. It’s human nature to be curious, especially in regards to things that you love.

It’s okay if you know the names and faces of the member’s of Sleep Token. It is not okay to pass this information along in Sleep Token fan spaces, even if you disagree with the anonymity aspect or believe it’s just a gimmick. It is okay to be curious about the members and search for information about them online (such as old projects, public accounts, etc). It is not okay to harass them or their friends/family online (and yes, commenting “Worship” is harassment outside of Sleep Token’s official accounts). It is okay if you don’t find Sleep Token attractive after seeing their faces. It is not okay to hate on them or bodyshame them, especially in Sleep Token fan spaces. It is okay if you recognize the guys out in public, such as outside a venue. It is not okay to draw attention to them, take unsolicited photos of them, or approach them with anything other than respect.

The point I’m trying to make is that you can only be responsible for yourself. I am in a space where I regularly use Sleep Token’s first names, and relentlessly censor myself outside of that space to make sure I don’t accidentally namedrop. If I, an adult with ADHD and a 50 second attention span, can do this, so can you. Know that if you are refraining from openly sharing/spreading information about the band’s identities, you are not only respecting the Sleep Token’s wishes to remain anonymous, but you are also respecting countless other fans that are trying to avoid that same information for their own reasons.

It’s also important to remember there are people on the other side of the screen before sending hate. It’s easy to forget that a living, thinking, feeling, human reading what you’re saying. The best way to deal with people online who give you strong negative emotions is to block them and forget they exist.

If you’ve read this far then I just want to say that you’re amazing and I love you (especially if you’re my mutual or follower). You’re all truly the best community in this fandom. I hope you’re having/had a fantastic day. Forehead kisses and Large Mug Morning Espressos™ for all of you.

[miintsprigz]

Hello!! What would Spy, Scout, and Engie be like with a s/o who is startlingly good at voice impressions?

Dang, Anon, kept ya waitin’ long enough?

Thank you for your patience! I hope that this brightens your day.

Gonna do bullet points for this one just because I think it’ll work better. Apologies that this one isn’t as long, this is a really creative prompt! I just didn’t want to keep you waiting any longer. 💚

Mercs With A S/O Who Does Voice Impressions

Characters: Spy, Scout, Engineer (Team Fortress 2)

Warnings: none come to mind

Spy 🥖

•Spy discovered your hidden talent one day when you were asking him if he wanted to accompany you out for a quick grocery store run…on what happened to be a rather rainy day.

• “(Y/N), mon bijou, as much as I love being around you, the rain will—”

• “… ‘ruin the new shoes I just got, and I can’t have this suit getting wet either’.” You’d been working on that one for a while. Spy stared at you, actually slightly slack-jawed.

• “…pardon?” “Didn’t know I could do that, did you?” “…no, no I did not.”

•Honestly? He’s just a little jealous. That was kind of his thing? I dunno, man just wants to be a bit special.

•That being said, as you start implementing this into your talks with him more and more, he finds it to be yet another quality that makes you lovely.

•He’ll tease you at times. “How can I be sure you aren’t an enemy spy?” You laughed at this, resting your hands on his shoulders. “I dunno, do these feel like the hands of an enemy spy?”

•Biting back a laugh, he shakes his head and pulls you closer, dipping you into a kiss. As he draws back, he smirks. “And those feel like the lips of my love…very well. You must be the real one.”

Scout ⚾️

•You actually first utilized this ability of yours as a hail-mary during a fight. Scout was close to bringing the briefcase to safety when the enemy Scout suddenly charged.

•Seeing this, you looked over at Heavy, hoping he would be okay with this. “‘GOOD TIME TO RUN, COWARD!’”, you mimicked. Instinctually, the enemy Scout flinched in terror. Giving yourself just enough time…

• “Heavy! Thanks for the help, man.” “Scout, I was not over there…” “But I heard you right behind me…” The gears in his head visibly turned.

• “Oh! That would be (Y/N). They are very good at that.” Jeremy’s mouth dropped open, only to immediately curve into a huge grin. “(Y/N)…for real??? Do it again!”

• With a proud grin, you obliged. “‘(Y/N) can sound like giant man!’ See?” Scout howled with delighted laughter.

• “Whoa-ho-ho, that’s freakin’ SICK, (Y/N)! Why didn’t you ever show me you could do dat?” “I dunno, it never really came up in conversation.”

•From that point on, he’d ask if you could “do the thing” all the time. You almost always agreed, his reactions were the cutest. He’d actively show it off, with your permission.

• “Yo, my baby here, watch ‘em. …ain’t that cool?!”

•Scout was actually pretty decent at impressions himself (you already know where he got that from), and sometimes the two of you would go back and forth for a while, cracking yourselves up.

•There came a time where you rolled your eyes at one of his requests. That seemed to make him a little nervous.

• “Hey uh…(Y/N)…do you want me to stop askin’ you to do the voices?” “Huh? Oh…I mean, if I’m tired, maybe.” “Arright…I know you’re probably sick of doin’ it, but I just think it’s so cool.”

•You giggled. He looked all lovestruck even now. “I’m glad you think so~” “You really are the coolest, babe, you know that? All around. I’m the luckiest guy in this whole place.” “Awww~”

Engineer ⚙️

•The first time you did this, it was to try and mess with Dell just a little.

• “‘Needa dispenser here!’” “Scout? Where’d you need that dispenser?” “I have no idea whatcha talkin’ about.” “What? But I just heard ya!” “Hardhat, I wasn’t even over there!”

•You only got away with this a few more times before he caught you midway through. His head turned quick enough to see your mouth moving.

•With the way his goggles and hardhat covered up some of the more expressive parts of his face, you couldn’t tell if he was genuinely mad or not. “(Y/N), that’s you doin’ that, ain’t it?”

• “Yeah…” Your face flushed slightly with embarrassment. “…sorry. Got carried away.” Shaking his head, the serious expression began to break somewhat, chuckling. “Ah, no harm no foul, I s’pose. Just uh…not while I’m workin’, maybe?”

•With a smirk, you mimicked him perfectly. “‘Alrighty, partner.’” “Hoo, that really is uncanny, ain’t it? How do you do that?” Holding a finger to your lips, you snickered, and you could tell he was rolling his eyes at you.

•A week or two later, while you were on break, you heard him calling you. “Engie?” Following his voice to his workshop, you looked for him. He was nowhere to be seen in here…but you’d sworn his voice had come from here.

•Looking down, you saw a new machine on his desk. Looking closer, you saw a speaker.

• “Checkmate, darlin’!” With a hearty laugh, Engie leaned in through the doorway. “Okay, you got me…” It was your turn to roll your eyes, but you couldn’t help but laugh.

•The two of you actually would utilize this on the battlefield if you had the energy for it, getting the other team mixed up. Both of you got quite the laugh out of it.

•He never really asked you to do any of that on your own time though.

•One night, he even took you on the side after using that technique. “Hey, (Y/N)…you know I love hearin’ you as yourself more than any of your impressions, right?” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

•Laughing, you rested your head against him. “Yeah, don’t worry, I know.”

• “Alright. Just wanted to make sure.”

[artdivadej]

Survivor's Remorse (III)

Part Three

18+ | NSFW |

Trigger warnings: PTSD, Gore, Death, Sexual Trauma mentioned

Part 4| Part 5| Part 6| Part 7

When I woke up, I was back in Peeta’s bed and not alone. Haymitch must have fetched him once I gave in to my exhaustion. He sat beside me in the bed, propped against the headboard trapped in place by my arms locked around his thighs, my head lying in his lap. Once again keeping him in anchored in place. His fingers ran through my hair tenderly, twirling within the curls and rolling them around his fingers. His right hand just above my forehead, the thumb stroking my temple as he hummed The Willow lullaby in his throat lowly.

Oh, my sweet Peeta.

I couldn’t help it when I nuzzled into his hand as his left thumb began to stroke at my cheek, shifting his hips so he could be closer to me. I wiggled a little as my eyelids fluttered and while Peeta’s humming stopped, his fingers hadn’t. My heart thudded wildly in my chest with the fear of having to face him. Ugh I am such a coward.

“Love”, Peeta called in that honey sweet deep hum of his

Biting my lip, I took a steadying breath and rolled to face him, grateful the curtains of my hair mostly hid my eyes as I peeked through my lashes at him. I relinquish my hold around his thighs and slowly draw myself from his lap in a sitting position beside him, my head still lowered.

How was I supposed to just talk about this?

Biting my lip harder, it took Peeta’s gentle hand on my cheek to snap me out of my inner turmoil. As I nuzzled into his warmth, his thumb slid under my chin tilting it up with ease so that I was now forced to stay trapped in the deep honey filled depths. His eyes saddened just the slightest in the pained blink he gave when he saw that mine were still red and terrified. His index finger slid back and forth across my plump bottom lip and I knew that even red and puffy he wanted to kiss me.

It felt criminal to wish that he would.

“We need to talk” “About?” “Us”

A sharp intake of air was the only answer I gave him. I was ok to talk about this.

“And our first games”

This I was not.

“What about it?” I snap defensively pulling out of his touch.

I don’t want him touching me when the grime of that time still coated my skin. Not those hands.

“I...I don’t want to upset you” “A little late for that” “I’m sorry about that. But, I want to be with you too much to let this be what’s keeping you from me” “Peeta please” “Not this time sweetness”, he shook his head as his blonde curls moved like waves against his forehead.

Mmm. His hair only looked like that when he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly in frustration. He did it a lot when he was stuck on a design of something those strong fingers created. I loved when it was tousled like that.

“First of all, you’ve always had permission to touch me however you wanted to since our first games. I don’t know if you remember but, I’m pretty sure I gave you explicit permission in that cave and again on stage in front of millions of people”

I searched my memory.

The interview.

I told Caesar about how I felt that I could keep Peeta and it gave me hope. I hadn’t wanted to elaborate on what I meant because I wasn’t quite sure myself. Peeta had lit up beside me, his body weight shifting so that he was domineering now dwarfing me with his body and energy on that loveseat. He had whispered it so huskily in my ear, his warm breath fanning against my neck in a way that made me grateful my thighs were pulled up tight on the couch firmly pressed together.

“So, now that you’ve got me, what are you going to do with me?”

When I’d answered him, he’d kissed me with such passion I had the distinct feeling that he would have made love to me right there if there weren’t other people in that room.

“That was not an invitation” “I’m the one who sent it love. I’m pretty sure it was” he chuckled pulling me closer so that he could rest his forehead against mine “Oh sweet girl...I want to kiss you. Really kiss you”

When I didn’t move away his eyes widen a little before his right arm snakes around my waist and pulls me so that my leg is thrown over his, my left tucked on the bed between us. His hand is back on my cheek, my neck arching to meet his eyes. When had he gotten so much taller than me? I didn’t realize I’d licked my lips or been staring at his until his tongue flicked out and copied the action. A small pant of anticipation leaves my lips bringing a small smirk to his lips.

“We have to talk first”, he breathed. “Oh Peeta please” I gasp wanting to stay in this dreamworld he had me trapped in “I promise I’ll have my mouth on every single inch of you tonight” “Oh yes please” “After love”

With a huff I tucked my face into his neck for a minute attempting to calm down. Why was I giving in to my normally easy to stifle urges like this?

I took care of these thoughts I had about Peeta at home.

Alone.

I wasn’t vocal about this. I never admitted my craving for him like this aloud to anyone. What the hell was going on with me? My body still felt heavy, a small thrum like a hummingbird's wing going through my veins.

Morphling. That fucking Haymitch. Traitor.

Peeta turns me in his hold so that my back is to his chest, his large thighs like tree trunks on the outer of mine, fluffy and plump in comparison. When had he gotten so damned hunky?

Well...he was kind of always this way, wasn’t he? When he’d turned 17 and we went to those games I saw a completely different Peeta than I had 2 years before at 15 tossing flour in his parents bakery. Peeta was stocky and cut.

It made sense that every girl but me had noticed and wanted him, not being big on anything outside of survival. Not until I'd volunteered, slamming my hand over Katniss' lips as I violently yank her backwards into line. She had a family and honestly, most of our district to provide for. We hunted together but I had no one that needed me.

I was alone. I always had been. If I could save her then I could help the district stay fed. Even with me dead Gale and Katniss would still be alive to provide the meat for our people. A necessary sacrifice.

“Do you want me to touch you?” “Sometimes”, I admit before I can stop myself and just sigh in defeat knowing the morphling and alcohol has given me a loose tongue regardless. “I’d never thought about any of that until you’d kissed me in the cave. Something just different about that one. I could feel you really didn’t want me to go. I laid up that night going over every good memory I’d ever had. You, your blonde hair, the dandelions that always seemed to grow around you...were always in the background. It was in that cave I realized I’d always been watching you too”

His arms tighten around me and I wish I could see his face. He inclines his head and I can feel his wide grin against my cheek.

“Do you like me?”

I don’t know why but I start gasping for air, tears streaming down my cheeks in resigned guilt, his arms tightening nervously.

“Yes” “Do you love me?” he husks as his breath catches in his throat

I begin to struggle against his stronghold now. If I admit it to him, I can never stay with him. I need to run.

“This is what we need to talk about. Why are you running?” “I can’t. We can’t” “Because of what you think Marvel did to you?”

Now I’m hissing like an angry cat trying to get out of his hold. He barely had to use any effort to keep me still and I was still already almost out of breath. Marvel, the fucking Capitol. The list was growing of thing I didn't want to think about and tried to force myself to forget.

“He didn’t hurt you the way you think he did love” Peeta whispers in that honey sweet drop tone again

I begin to settle but he knows this is a façade and his grip does not slacken in the slightest. He knows me too well.

“Tell me what you remember about that night”

I am now totally still in his arms fighting against the vicious memories. ‘Even if you were just friends, you don’t think you owe him a conversation about what happened?’. I know Haymitch is right so, with a shaky breath that steadies with the tightening of his arms around me, I begin to talk to Peeta about that night.

***

I’d killed 2 tributes who’d been on my tail that day and was bleeding pretty badly from one of them. A career. He’d had a curved blade that sliced me across my stomach from ribcage to ribcage.

I’d fashioned a needle out of my fishhook and used some of my own hair to stitch what I could up to staunch the bleeding, at least until I got to a bag with a real first aid kit in it. I bit down on some tree bark to staunch my screams and give myself something to focus while I stitched myself together.

My sponsors must have liked this.

I was done and washing the blood off by the river, delirious from blood loss (thankfully my was body in shock) when I heard the familiar beeping of a parachute. There was a note from Haymitch. It contained a syringe to give me a boost of some blood supplement to keep me going and a 3 oz jar.

HIDE & APPLY –H.

Whatever it was, he knew it would leave me open to attack. I’d need recovery time.

Injecting the needle directly into my neck I look around the bank hoping it has some rock caverns like the one further upstream does.

It doesn’t.

Shit.

Maybe I can make it there before the adrenaline wears off? I’d been looking for Peeta for most of the day when the Careers had caught up to me and I was exhausted. As I stumbled along, I found a nice one that was perfect for daytime sleeping too. Covering the entrance with twigs and leaves I dipped inside of the camouflage.

Once tucked neatly inside I lay my back against the left side of the entrance’s wall. Pulling my shirt off I unwrapped the bandages I’d hastily wrapped around myself and began to slather the blue ointment on generously. It had an instant numbing sensation before it felt like a cool jelly was rolling over the sutured skin. With a sigh of relief, I tucked the jar away, pulling my knife to sit on my thigh as the numbing sensation began to spread throughout my entire upper body.

This is what Haymitch was warning me about. I had to get away from the lip of the cave if I was going to be practically immobile for a few hours. Just as I’d begun to drag myself backwards to the heart of the place, I heard the sadistic cackle.

“Found you” Marvel smirked climbing in.

Adrenaline was always my saving grace at the worst of times and I was depending on it heavily right now. My hand was still around my knife so I slashed it at him with a roar of defiance, refusing to be killed this way. I’d nicked his cheek because he was a bit too tall for the cave but he was still stronger and I was weak from blood loss and medication. He’d knocked my hand aside, slamming my wrist against a stone to let it go, before pinning it above my head.

“Glad to see Clint didn’t get the tits. They’re hot” he panted

As I kicked and bucked beneath him his panting only grew louder, fumbling with my pants as he yanked them down my legs. Oh no!

If there was going to be any boy I’d ever let touch me, it would be....

“Peeta!”, I screech like a wild animal biting at the arm that held my hands pinned

I can hear his buckle going and my heart is practically pounding in my ears. They wouldn’t let him would they? Of course they would. They sold us to sponsors. The Capitol would love this. Star-crossed lovers ripped apart by Captiol favorites and tainted beyond repair before death. This was primetime tv. Oh but this would only air in the Capitol. A secret from the Districts about their taboo guilty pleasures.

I wanted to cry until my throat was raw but I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. He was pushing and yanking against me so roughly but, so much of me was numb and my consciousness was fading, it was hard to tell when I couldn’t even lift my head. With the very last ounce of strength left in my body I screamed loud enough to hopefully scar every single pair of ears watching for all eternity,

“I only want Peeta!”

As my eyes roll in the back of my head I see a flash of gold before I’m out cold.

***

“That’s what I remember” I breath still shaking in his secure embrace “Can you promise to listen to what I remember now? Please sweetness?”, Peeta coos softly in my ear

I hear Haymitch’s condescending yet honest voice in my ear, ‘Grow up.’ and the alcohol/morphling cocktail was helping ease my stubborn attitude.

“Yes”

It’s all I offer.

I don’t expect what he does next and it makes me understand why he’d yet to slacken his hold on me. He’s playing our games on a small screen at the end of the bed.

“No!” “You promised” “But I-” “It’s only about 5 minutes I promise. I even had Beetee help piece it together with me. Luckily, he was awake”

I trust Beetee. Beetee was always a friend. He’s one of the reasons I recovered so well from the trackerjacker torture with so much of my mind in tact. I’m still tense in his arms but I don’t try to run now. The assurance that an ally has helped him soothes my distrust.

Peeta continues the video.

It’s that night and Peeta is clearly tracking me. Had to have been the way I was him to find me once they made the announcement.

“I knew I was close but you move so quietly in the forest. I mainly had to track you through your snares and the wildlife I know you’d recognize”, he explains.

I watch him track me pretty well for someone who’d only been learning it for a week. It’s clear he only can because he knows me. Then his head snaps up. It’s clear Beetee made sure none of the Capitol commentary is on it, just the sounds from the games. I appreciate that. Then clear as a bell, I can hear my scream from the northeast.

He really wasn’t very far from me.

“That was my name”, Peeta breaths his hands shaking

Peeta’s wide body tears through the brush, towards the sounds of the scuffling where he heard the scream come from, unforgiving of anything in his path.

“Come on. One more time. One more time love!”, he was whispering under his breath.

He was at the river now, looking around wildly for any sign of me. It was clear to see his whole body was shaking as he fought his fear of the worst.

“I only want Peeta!”

It wasn’t more than 50 feet in front of him. That cave! He’d have never noticed it if he hadn’t heard me.

He bolted for it and I closed my eyes.

My breath hitched in my throat, not wanting to really see this from his point of view. I’d been in denial about this too long to have to face it like this.

“Open your eyes. Please. You need to see this” “I know what happened” “No, you don’t. I said I got to you in time. I wouldn’t lie to you about that” “Peeta...you have no idea how sore I was” “I didn’t say it wasn’t for lack of trying. He was trying but he was too excited. Scared. Inexperienced. I’m not really sure. I didn’t really give him time to explain himself”

Now I tilt my head up and nudge his chin with my temple forcing his attention off of the paused screen back down to my face. When his eyes meet mine, I search them for a while, seeing that honest gentility I’d always come to know from him.

“Prove it”

Peeta kisses my forehead before turning my face back to the screen. Now he’s threaded his fingers through mine as he holds his arms wrapped tight around me. I like this position.

“Ready?” “Ready”

Peeta bursts into the cave, looking around wildly before he looks down. Marvel isn’t aware he’s there yet as he’s cursing in annoyance and shifting his hips. Peeta crept closer picking up the knife I’d been forced to drop.

As he slunk to the left with deadly silence, he realized just what was happening. Marvel was struggling to try and penetrate me, his hands shaking as he kept just trying to shove himself in, his left arm on the wall behind my head to try and keep his balance while his right hand raked at my skin.

Peeta’s eyes go feral, his lips pulled back in a snarl and he drops the knife. The sound startles Marvel but it’s too late now. Peeta’s hands are around his slim throat and lifting him from my naked body as if he weighed nothing, slamming his temple into the side of the cave over and over, a wild fire in his eyes. Each time his head met the stone it making a sickening wet, crack.

Peeta picked the knife back up when Marvel slumped to the floor with a moan, part of his skull crushed. But Peeta was not finished. Peeta forced him to his knees, hands gripped tightly in his hair, yanking them by the root. He held him there before me, so he could stare directly at me through the streams of blood running down his face.

“Mine!”, he rumbles loudly in Marvel’s ear in a deep cadence I’d never heard from him, his honey eyes dark as night.

Before Marvel can blink Peeta slits his throat, letting his blood run over and at my feet.

It was as if he'd sacrificed him before me for the disrespect. Was it wrong to love watching him become such a force? To love that he'd do such a thing for me.

The games really have made me a monster, haven't they?

“You are nothing”, he sneers in his ear waiting for all the life to leave his body before dragging him out of the cave and kicking him into the river for the Gamemaker's to find.

Rushing back inside to find me Peeta quickly checks if I have a pulse first. He lets out a sigh of relief before taking the water jug Marvel had. He used it to wash the blood from my reopening wounds of my upper body.

“I’m sorry love. I promise I’ll cover you soon”, he apologizes as he cleans my body.

He rewraps my stomach wound and uses the rest of the bindings to fashion me a makeshift bra, for modesty's sake I suppose.

“I’ll make this part quick I swear. I’m sorry”, Peeta apologizes again softly looking into my sleeping face.

I know what he’s going to do. He has to double check, and get all traces of Marvel off of me. It’s clear he’s trying to figure out where the cameras would be placed, as he looks suspiciously around the cave, before giving up and just doing his best to shield me as much as he can. He’s on his knees, mine propped up over his and resting atop his thighs so that even if he could see all of me no one else could. He grabs the jug and a piece of his shirt he’d ripped to begin cleaning between my legs. He’s so gentle and serious as he inspects to make sure Marvel hadn’t actually penetrated me. He hangs his head for a second before mumbling to himself.

“She’s gonna smack me when she sees this”, he groans before taking his middle finger, gently and slowly slipping it within me.

My eyes narrow and I’m sure he feels my back stiffen, because his arms tighten slightly around me, to stop me from actually smacking him if I were so inclined.

Video Peeta lets out a deep sigh of relief before planting a kiss to my bent knee.

“You’re all good love. Impotence must be a Careers thing” Peeta chuckles to himself in a private joke.

Once I’d been fully cleaned by him, Peeta quickly dressed me in my pants and tucked me deep into the sleeping bag. That only lasts for a few hours because I’d begun to flail in my sleep calling for Peeta, threatening to open my wounds again. He never left my side after that.

I hadn’t realized I’d been hyperventilating until Peeta’s voice is calling out to me softly. Marvel didn’t. He couldn’t. Peeta really had gotten to me in time. I wasn’t a complete monster.

I wailed and slumped against his chest feeling boneless. Peeta turned me in his arms and began to lay kisses over my forehead and tear-filled eyes over and over before making me look into his again.

“I need you to understand something sweetness. Whether he had or hadn’t, it wouldn’t have changed a thing for me about you. I love you. Do you hear me? Someone hurting you wounds me; it could never disgust me. I kept my distance because I didn’t want to pressure you when I knew what he tried to do to you. I need you to want to give me all of you. To have you watch me drown in all of your pleasure as you let go and trust me with all of you. But that had to be on your time. To find out that you’ve been pushing me away all this time because of him...” Peeta’s voice cracks as his forehead lays against mine “I killed almost as many tributes as the Careers did in that arena Peeta. All I wanted was to keep you safe. I didn’t care how much a monster that made me. Then we got back...and the Capitol changed my eyes, my mouth and even tried my breasts before Haymitch took me from the surgical table in a rage. I’d become the monster they wanted. Marvel was under orders to take the last remaining shred of my humanity left. And I thought he had Peeta. Do you understand what that meant?” “Tell me” “My world was now darkness. You are light. You are air. All the good things in the world. Even having been cast into the darkness, you still outshined it. I feel like I’m standing in the sun when I’m with you. I couldn’t bring myself to taint the one thing in my life I’d swore to live and die for. Even when they were breaking my bones and trying to force me to forget the real you, I held onto that light. I knew no matter how dark my world got, as long as you were close enough to shine some light, I could breathe. But I couldn’t drag you into the darkness with me” “I would follow you to the pits of hell if it meant I could spend eternity with you”, he rumbled

Something in me snapped.

I didn’t give him time to move out of reach again. I pulled his bottom lip into my mouth and threw my left leg over his so I was straddling his lap. Peeta responds eagerly, taking me into his arms and slipping his tongue under my top lip taking control of my passion as he hungrily explored my mouth.

He even tasted of honey and nutmeg.

Both of his warm hands slid up my back beneath my shirt, bunching it up higher and higher as he caresses my skin. It’s easy since it’s one of his and quite loose on my small frame but his hands are leaving trails of goosebumps all over my skin and I tremble against him unwittingly.

When he nips my plump bottom lip I gasp, my hips jerking so that I ground against him. That...that felt good. Capturing my lips in a heated kiss Peeta’s hips roll against mine and I see just why it feels so good. I can feel his length against the seat of my underwear. I whine in his mouth as a shuddering breath escapes his lips.

Leaning back to press my hips further into his I throw my head back and begin to roll in a steady rhythm with him. Just as I’m about to lean back up for another kiss I feel his lips enclose around my right nipple, his mouth so wet and needy.

“Peeta!” I croon with a jerk of the hips

His left hand cupped my breast to get a better angle and yes, he did. He laid wet, suckling kisses to my hardened nipple. With each suckling kiss he increased the pressure and extended the time he spent between them.

“I promised I would have my mouth all over you tonight baby. I intend to keep that promise”

Oh I had so many plans for that mouth tonight.

(Had to cut this one in half cuz it's LONG. Next chapter is straight smut I swear 😈😏😹)

[hanzidanzi]

Draw whoever you think fits perfectly in the rolls!!!!

(If you want. No pressure!)

Hello Val, hope you’re doing good💕 I’m assuming you mean to the boys!

These are my placements!^^ (click for better quality)

Just the placements I thought worked best considering the boys and their s/o, I go into detail below:

1. Red and Dust;

Red being the flirtatious jackass he is, flirts with everyone and is known to do so... Sooo! When he finally gets a crush, the person he flirts with finds it difficult to take him serious. You might find he has changed his flirting slightly however, making less "dirty" jokes towards you and he might try more romantic advances...

Dust is so far removed from anything and everything, being caught in a circle of kill or be killed has really fucked with him sadly. It's been such a long time since someone flirted with him too... He definitely wouldn't take the hint if you did.

2. Blue and Classic;

Blue is such a sweetheart! He is definitely your biggest fan if you let him, if not he'll be your biggest fan in secret... He'll support whatever you like, whatever sort of hobby you have... and generally he'll be your number one cheerleader whenever he can!

Classic is a huge nerd, which is really no secret! He can ramble on on about anything in particular, can you blame him? He doesn't feel comfortable with just anyone, so when he meets someone like you?? He just can't help himself from gushing with all the exciting new information he just learnt.

3. Black and Edge;

Black loves a challenge!! Please, please challenge him! He won't admit how much he likes that you are better than him in certain areas, but he sure will admire you from afar. And the way you snap at him when he's being a jackass towards you? It lights something in him, what can I say!

Edge is a tsundere! Really he is! He takes some time to warm up to/takes a while for him to warm up to you. But he admires your passion and spirit! The way you don't take shit, the way you talk back. In his world it means you can survive without him being too worried about you, and that is a HUGE pluss for him! This man seriously worries 24/7.

4. Buns and Cream;

Buns my baby!!!;; On a serious note, don't mess with him. He is baby, but he'll fuck you up if he has to! Sadly your little Bun has been through hell and back and knows how to protect you if he has to. But please, he is so so tired of all the violence and inconsistencies! All he wants is a calm and safe life with you, where he doesn't have to worry about food and enemies.

Cream is tough! Like tough tough. Sure he hasn't been through hell necessarily, but he has been through tons of hard training to become a royal guard! Don't think Undyne goes easy on him, only because she has a soft spot for him. He also has such positive energy, whatever you go through he'll have your back! And he'll make sure you get through it unscratched!

5. Mutt and Stretch

Mutt is chaotic... but like in a chill way? He'll bring you along on the stranges of adventures: bring you with him to his shop, to the lab, to the store and so on. And pretty much each and every time you come out of it with the strangest of stories? Like you were going to the store and now you're in a completely different AU saving the world? He can't help it either, like these huge changes happens to his plans and he just goes with it?

Stretch is such a meme, man doesn't take anything seriously. He had to be a grown up from a really young age, so he could properly take care of Blue. Honestly, he's just so tired and he want to makeup for all the time he lost. It has taken a toll on him, so he's basically making it his life mission to just mess around with everything and everyone! Beware you'll be his number one target you know...

6. Dust!Paps and Axe;

Dust!Paps is really just a little coward, now it is a little difficult to place him! Since he is basically made up by Dusts imagination and insane guilt for killing his brother. But if we were to say he was his own body and soul for a second, this man is spiteful af. Tired of being killed because of Dusts complete obsession to kill the human and gain LOVE. So he is spiteful, but still the sweet and kind Papyrus deep inside. Something you will get to see if you're patient enough with him.

Axe is a dom daddy for sure... He probably wouldn't say it like that, but this man has literally no shame. And I'm not just talking with sexual encounters, but in general! He is the boss and he will let you know. Taking care of you the way you should, making sure you've eaten, gotten enough water, gotten enough sleep. Did I mention he is basically just pure instinct? Like sure, he is just a funny more morbid version of Classic. But at the end of the day, this man is also the most animalistic out of the bunch.

Now I'm so so late answering this!! I've been busy with college and barely gotten to draw for several months, but thats life. I'm happy I've gotten to this one at last💕

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unsolicited 5

Warnings: bad self-thought/talk, bullying, insults, low self-esteem, money problems, cheating, more dark elements to come.

This one is a bit longer.

Wouldn’t mind some feedback! Lloyd was driving me nuts so I had to do it. Thank you in advance 💜

Colin leaves for the conference. Things are fragile. You sleep in the bed but feel a world away from the man next to you. Even when he tries, even when he holds you, you feel the rent between you. The fears you’re too afraid to say. What you know you should but can’t. Because you’re a coward, because you’re weak.

You kiss him goodbye and get ready for work. The house feels emptier than ever, the day longer, everything ahead of you bleaker. You lock up and go about your usual route. The prospect of coming home to a lonely night makes the day stretch on.

Work slogs by. You drop your bucket of supplies in the trunk and yawn at the gray sky. There’s a bottle of wine buried somewhere under the sink. You could take that out and choke it down. It’s not even three but who cares? You don’t want to think of Colin and his ‘business’ with his ex.

As you open the driver’s door, you stop. A shape resting against the wiper draws you to the hood. The white watch box sits against your windshield. You look around at the pedestrians passing by and the line of cars parked ahead and behind your car. You take it and retreat to the steering wheel.

You pull shut the door and flick the locks. Your hands shake and you swallow as you open the box. Nothing. The watch is gone. Another trick. Another taunt. There’s only a piece of paper folded up against the lid. You slide it out and unfold in with a grimace at the tight, slanted letters.

‘Garneau’s, Daddy’s treat.’

You roll your eyes and throw the box and letter into the passenger’s side to bounce against your purse. This fucking jerk. It’s your watch! Why wouldn’t he just give it back? He boasted how he could afford half the shop so why wouldn’t he give you your low-grade luxury?

You start the car and edge out of the spot into traffic. You impatiently putter along with the snailish flow and idle at the light. You flip your blinker and redirect. You’re getting the watch back. If this asshole wants to play, you’ll play. You’re done with it.

You veer off and get lost up town. You pull over to search Google maps and head back down the way you came. Garneau’s. Some upscale organic cafe that doesn’t seem to serve anything but juiced bullshit. You feed the meter and growl up at the marquee, your eyes falling to the wall of windows beneath.

You see him. He’s at one of the tall tables, perched sideways as he leans against the wall. White pants, blue polo patterned with gold, and high collar jacket over his ridiculous Ivy league pretense. You resign yourself to the confrontation and go to the door. Or what you think is the door.

You hit the window and cringe. You back away and grab the handle along the next pane. You’ve got his attention now. You enter and push your shoulders back as you march up to him. He smooths his mustache with his index and thumb and he hooks his leather boots in the crossbar, his knees wide as he watches you.

“Ah, come to daddy,” he calls to you.

“Shut up and give me the watch,” you demand, “now.”

“Well, I can’t say I expected class but you could at least say hello.”

“Watch, now,” you snap your fingers.

He chuckles and bites the tip of his thumb as he plants his elbow on the edge of the table. He sits straight and shakes his head.

“That’s not the deal.”

“It’s mine. I paid for it–”

“Finders keepers,” he smirks.

“Please, just–”

“'Please, Lloyd, be a good daddy and give it to me',” he says in a high pitch, “Oh, I’m sure I’ll be hearing lots of that, baby.”

“Ew,” you scrunch your nose, “what the fuck is wrong with you? Who even are you–”

“Why don’t you sit and have a juice and we can… explore that further?”

“I’m not interested in watered asparagus. Or you.” You push your hand in his face, “I’m married and I have better things–”

“Ah, yes, I’m sure going home to that empty house as your husband fucks off with his boss is quite the event for you,” he mocks as he rubs his thigh. You bite down and sneer at him, how would he know that? “Let’s just say, I know people in high places. So sit down and smile.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“Oh, I am,” he nods as his grin curves deeper, “I won’t deny that but it doesn’t mean I don’t know every fucking thing about you, sweetie. And that deadbeat you can’t get hard.”

“Shut the fuck up–”

“Watch that mouth,” he points at you, “I was planning on being nice so don’t push it.”

“If it gets me the watch back, what’s mine, fine,” you huff and climb up onto the stool. It wobbles beneath you and you grasp the table for balance.

He turns on his seat and watches you. You stare at the transparent table and wiggle your foot as you cross it behind your other. He takes the slim white table propped up in an equally modern stand. He drags his fingers across the screen.

“Place is pretty nice, just gotta put in your order,” he looks up over the iPad, “you like dragonfruit? Hmm, wait, that’s quite a bit of sugar…”

“Stop,” you look up at him beneath your lashes, “I get it.”

“Kale and apple, bit of sweetness…”

“I’ll take water.”

“Hey, I’m tryna generous and I think you should appreciate that. I can be pretty damn generous if you give me a chance,” he warns as he lets the tablet sit flat in his hands, “you just gotta loosen up but I can help with that too.”

You look at the wall and shake your head. You cross your arms and wait as he continues to poke through the electronic menu. Finally, he returns the tablet to its place and the table shifts as he readjusts his posture.

“So, do you know about the ex or–”

“How the fuck do you know?” You challenge.

“Oh, dolly, that mouth. You were so quiet when we met, what happened? You not getting any? I wouldn’t be surprised, he’s got that skinny blonde thing hanging around. I’m sure he has her leaning over his desk, her blouse cute just white that he gets a good eyeful of those pert tits,” his gaze falls to the front of your stained uniform, exposed between the open zipper of your jacket, “personally, I like a bit of extra… jiggle.”

You inhale, holding your words with your breath. You rub your cheek in exasperation.

“He’s not cheating.”

“You sure?”

You seal your lips. It doesn’t matter. You’re not arguing with him about your husband. What are you even doing there with another man? A man who openly despises you.

“Hard day?”

You squint and shrug. Your hands smell like rubber gloves and your sweat dampens the hair at the nape of your neck. You pick your nail as you refuse to encourage him further.

A waitress arrives with two tall glasses with metal straws and places them on the ceramic coasters. He thanks her with a wink and you bite your tongue.

“Look, I might be an asshole but I’m honest about it. That husband of yours, he’s the worst kind. He can never admit the kinda sleaze he is. And what does he have to show for it? Not damn much. But me, I got a whole fucking empire–”

“So why are you here? Why are you bugging me? Just gimme the damn–

“Drink the fucking juice,” he interjects harshly, “I don’t like my kindness thrown back in my face.”

You ball your fists until your fingers crack. Cautiously, you slid the glass towards you and sip the tangy juice. It’s nothing special but you can tell it has a hint of tomato and it leaves an earthy aftertaste. You try not to show your disgust.

“Thanks for the juice,” you say dryly “you’re so kind. How could I ever repay you?”

He laughs and slaps his leg, “you really are fun.”

Your leg shakes the stool as your anxiety has you twitching. You sit in stalemate, waiting. You want this to be over with. You want to get the watch and go home and wallow in your pathetic existence. To hide behind your denial.

“Stubborn, though,” he remarks and takes a loud slurp, “what if I tell you I have proof?”

You frown.

“About the cuck, Connor or whatever?”

“Colin,” you correct him.

“Yeah, him.”

“What does it matter to you?”

“So, you don’t care? You’re okay with it? You do seem the type. You’re ass is wide enough to turn the other cheek–”

“Christ, you are so fucking annoying.”

“Here,” he reaches into his pants pocket as he leans forward on the stool, “look. I wouldn’t trust what I say either, in fact, sometimes I lose track of the truth but pictures don’t lie.”

He presses his thumb to the screen and swipes through before turning the cell to face you. He lays it down and sits back to suck on his straw. He watches you as you look at the screen. The image is taken between a set of blinds, the same from the office building.

Long blond hair falls in waves as large hands bury in the soft strands. Colin’s chin is tilted to the ceiling as he stands between Ali’s splayed legs, he ass bare beneath the crumpled skirt as she sits on his desk. There’s no mistaking what’s going on.

You touch your throat as your eyes sting. You wiggle your nose and dip your chin down. This man will not see you cry. You blink, lashes glossy.

“Well, now I know,” you utter, “can I please have the watch?”

He’s quiet. You keep your eyes down, staring through the table at his boots. You sense his movement as he reaches into his jacket. He sets down the silver watch.

“Thanks,” you scoop it up and hop off the stool, “go fucking rot.”

You spin on your heel and storm out. You don’t wait to see if he follows. You know he isn’t going to leave you alone. But you don’t care. You’re not worried about that moron.