#feels like i forgot something...... oh well

[pathologicalreid]

sweet talker | s.r.

in which french!reader gets caught using a special nickname for a particular genius

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: french. guys i don't speak french. bad french. bad flirting. but wholesome content all around. word count: 639 a/n: i do not speak french but this was a request and i live to serve the people of tumblr. if this offends the french i think that's just a risk i have to take.

Something about it felt like home. Not necessarily like the bullpen compared in the slightest to where you grew up, but the hustle and bustle of the BAU, while they were in the depths of a case, had the same feeling of a home.

As you rushed around the floor, placing files on desks and picking old ones up as you went, dropping soft thank you’s to the people in the office rounding the corner of Morgan’s desk, scooping his files from his desk and placing them in your own collection, “Merci, mon chou,” you thanked quickly.

Your co-worker smiled in response, “Anything for you, sweet talker,” he said, leaning back in his desk chair.

Scoffing, you shook your head. To Derek Morgan, anything said in French counted as sweet talking.

Balancing all of the files against your hip, you prepared to pick up the stack of papers on Spencer’s desk, but he stood up and gathered them in his own arms, “I’ll get them,” he offered. Although, it wasn’t much of an offer, seeing as he was already carrying his files.

It would be worse if you were to attempt to carry all of the files on your lonesome, so you decided to follow his lead to the file room.

Spencer was somewhat of a guiding light for you in the BAU. You considered yourself lucky to have been placed with a team that had two members who spoke French, which came in handy when you forgot certain English words, Emily and Spencer were usually there to save you.

Setting your files down on the spare table in the room, you started to organize them by which cabinet they went in as Spencer went ahead and returned his folders based on memory. “Do you think Morgan knows what you’re saying when you speak to him in French?”

Chuckling, you shook your head, “Non, mon cœur,” the words easily slipped out of your mouth. “I think Derek gave up on comprehending me the first week I joined the team,” you responded, checking the front and back of a file to make sure you were sorting it into the correct drawer.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “His English-to-French dictionary sits pretty untouched.” No one was of the mindset that you shouldn’t speak French at work, and you didn’t ask them to learn for you. Besides, work allowed you to strengthen your English skills.

Frowning at the same folder, you held the folder out to Spencer, “Do you know where this one goes?”

Accepting the folder from you, Spencer flipped through the first couple of pages before deftly slipping it into a drawer, “Sometimes I wish I could just know where things were, I’d never lose my car keys again.”

Spencer hummed in response, “I wish I spoke French like you.”

“Oh,” you said, “I think you speak French very well.”

Sliding another drawer shut, Spencer stepped over to a new one a few feet closer to you, “Thank you, but if I ever go to France, I’m taking you with me.”

You smiled to yourself at his proclamation, biting your tongue as the door swung open and Emily stepped in, “Hey, do you have that file on the Montana killer? I need it back.”

Spinning on your heel, you looked around for it, only to realize that it had already been put away, “Sorry,” you said, forgetting your proximity to Spencer as you stepped to the side.

He closed his drawer, “Pardonne moi, mon ange,” he said, grabbing a folder from your pile on the table and slipping out of the file room, “I still need this one.”

With Emily’s folder in your hand, you turned to look at your shell-shocked co-worker, “Did he...? And you two...?”

Thrusting the file in her direction, you looked at her with equally wide eyes, “Tais-toi.”

[evanbi-ckley]

He feels like he’s being weighed down. Like he’s under water or a heavy blanket. His limbs are heavy, and he can’t get his eyes to open. There’s muffled sound nearby, but he can’t make out anything coherent. He’s also really warm. Uncomfortably so.

Is this what death is like? Is he in Hell? Or something Hell-adjacent? Were all the fire and brimstone idiots he refused to give the time of day actually right about something?

But then the heat is gone and there’s a cool breeze that skims across his skin.

Does he have skin? Do people feel their skin once they’re dead?

He’s still debating with himself as he gets pulled further under.

~***~

What is that annoying, repetitive sound? Did he change his alarm? Why the fuck can’t he turn it off?

~***~

It hurts.

Why does it hurt?

He can’t even tell what hurts, but something fucking hurts.

If he could just open his eyes and get up to take some ibuprofen.

Also his nose itches. Why can’t he fucking scra-

~***~

“Fucking bees.”

~***~

He’s warm again, but it’s not uncomfortable this time. 

He feels safe. And alive. 

He doesn’t feel as weighed down anymore.

It’s difficult, but he cracks his eyes open. He’s - in the hospital? That’s definitely a hospital ceiling and hospital lights and hospital machines beeping.

He turns his head to the left - slowly - and sees his arm is in a giant cast. That explains why he can’t lift it.

He turns his head to the right just as slowly. He’s surprised to see a head of curly hair lying next to his hip, a large hand in his own. 

When he flexes his hand, the curly head pops up immediately.

The man looks at him with bloodshot eyes that clearly haven’t seen sleep in days. He’s young - not alarmingly so but certainly younger than Tommy. The stubble on his jaw has gone far past 5 o’clock shadow and has entered the realm of beard, making him look slightly older. But who -?

“Tommy?” the man asks. His voice is low and raspy, possibly unused.

“Uh,” Tommy says. His own voice sounds even worse.

Without hesitation, the man turns - without letting go of Tommy’s hand - and pours a cup of water from the pitcher on the table next to the bed. Then he brings the cup up to Tommy’s mouth, a bendy straw pointing toward him.

Tommy drinks slowly, his mouth feeling like parchment that’s been left out in the sun too long. 

“Thanks,” he says.

The man sets the cup down and says, “Yeah, so um, h-how do you feel?”

He thinks for a bit, taking stock of himself.

“Sore. Numb in places. I assume they’ve got me on the good stuff?” The man nods, a cute smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “But there’s also the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen sitting next to me, holding my hand. So all told, I’m doing pretty well.”

The tips of the man’s ears turn pink, and a cute blush spreads across his cheeks. Adorable.

“You don’t have to flirt so hard, Tommy. You should know by now, I’m a sure thing.”

Ah, so -

“So we’re,” Tommy gestures vaguely with his head, “together?”

“Uh,” the man laughs uncertainly, “for about six months now, yeah.”

“Oh.” Tommy’s eyebrows shoot up. “But you’re so…” He trails off, not really knowing where he was going with that.

“So…what?” the man prods.

“Take your pick,” Tommy says. “Young? Pretty? Out of my league?”

“Sweetheart.” The man says it like they’ve had this discussion before, but he’s smiling. “Don’t try to amnesia your way out of being with me. I called dibs forever after our second date.”

Tommy smiles lazily. “Dibs forever, huh?”

“Yep. You’re stuck with me.”

Humming as if he’s considering the pros and cons, Tommy finally says, “I guess I can live with that.”

The man’s smile is blinding. “Evan,” he says. “Evan Buckley. In case you forgot.”

It comes back to him then - a cruise ship rescue in the middle of a hurricane, a basketball game, a kiss, a first date that ended terribly, more dates that ended perfectly, slow dancing in the kitchen, long nights together that ended too soon. A call during a bad storm, total engine failure, glass and fear and rain and acceptance and trees and blue eyes and a smile like warm sunshine.

“Evan,” Tommy says, pulling him closer. “Baby.” He kisses him softly. “I love you more than anything. How could I forget?”

Evan has tears in his eyes and leans their foreheads together when he says, “Don’t ever do that again. I thought I lost you.”

“I’m so sorry, baby. I thought so, too. I thought I’d never get to see you again. I’m so sorry.”

The next kiss is wet with tears - Evan’s or his own, it doesn’t matter. They’re here, and they’re both okay, and they’re together. That’s all that matters.

“I love you, too, by the way,” Evan says once they pull apart. “Can’t believe you waited to tell me until after you almost died, but I’ll take it.”

“I’ll say it every day until I actually die, okay?” he says. He gets a smack to his good shoulder for his effort, but they’re smiling too hard for it to have any weight.

There’s a long road ahead with recovery and therapy and stubbornness and frustration, but they’ve got this. They’ll get through it all. 

Together.

part 1

part 2

part 3

also now on ao3!

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Sirius's worst nightmare comes true when both you and Remus get your time of the months together.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Wolfstar x Reader

Sirius paced back and forth in the small living room, his fingers raking through his long hair, muttering under his breath. He could hear you and Remus in the bedroom, murmuring, laughing, then suddenly going quiet—an eerie calm before the next storm. He winced, thinking about the past few days of chaos.

You were on your period, and Remus was nearing the full moon. Mood swings? More like a tsunami of emotions, and Sirius was caught right in the middle.

He glanced at the bedroom door, half-expecting one of you to storm out, shouting at him for some unknown reason, or worse—crying uncontrollably over something he didn’t even understand. It had been like this all week.

"Merlin, what am I supposed to do?" Sirius whispered dramatically to the air. He grabbed his phone and dialed James’s number.

“Pads? What’s going on, mate?” James answered, sounding cheery.

“They're driving me mad!” Sirius whispered harshly. “Y/N’s got her period, and Remus is so close to the full moon he’s practically howling, and they’re both—both insane! I swear, James, they’re like… like pregnant women! And I’m in the middle of it all!”

James chuckled, but Sirius wasn’t amused.

“It’s not funny!” Sirius snapped. “I don’t know whether they’re going to shout at me or cry or smother me in affection! Yesterday, Remus hugged me for ten minutes straight, and then Y/N told me I was the worst person in the world because I didn’t put the dishes away properly!”

James was practically wheezing with laughter on the other end. “Mate, you’re gonna have to deal with this yourself. It’s called being in a relationship!”

“Oh, brilliant, thanks for the help. Maybe I’ll just die here in a storm of emotions while you and Lily live happily ever after,” Sirius grumbled.

“Pads, relax,” James said, still laughing. “Just go check on them. See what they need.”

“Oh no. No, I am not going in there. You don’t know what it’s like! One minute they’re calling for me, all sweet, and the next, I’m getting death glares because I forgot to buy extra chocolate! It's a bloody blood bath!”

As if on cue, your voice floated down the hallway. “Sirius, can you come here for a second?”

Sirius froze, eyes wide with panic. “See?! They’re plotting something!”

“Mate, you’re being dramatic. Just go. You’ll be fine,” James said, completely unbothered.

“I won’t survive this,” Sirius muttered darkly, hanging up. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever awaited him on the other side of the door. With a final prayer to Merlin, he walked into the bedroom.

You and Remus were sitting on the bed, both looking at him with big, pleading eyes. Sirius’s heart clenched. Oh no, here we go again.

“Sirius,” Remus began softly, his voice a little shaky, “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. I didn’t mean it.”

You nodded, looking equally regretful. “Yeah, I’m sorry, too. We’re just… so emotional right now, and everything’s overwhelming.”

Sirius blinked. “Wait, are you… both apologizing?”

Remus smiled, though his eyes were tired. “We are.”

You reached out for Sirius’s hand, and he stepped closer, letting you pull him down between the two of you on the bed. You snuggled into his side, your head resting on his shoulder. Remus followed suit, resting his head against Sirius’s other shoulder.

Sirius could feel the tension slowly melting away as you both wrapped yourselves around him. He let out a deep breath, wrapping his arms around the two of you. “Well… this isn’t so bad,” he mumbled, his lips quirking into a small smile.

“We love you, you know,” you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder.

Remus hummed in agreement. “Yeah, you’re the best, Pads. We don’t deserve you.”

Sirius chuckled softly. “Finally, some appreciation.”

But just as he started to relax, you suddenly lifted your head, your brows furrowing. “Wait… did you eat the last of the ice cream?”

Sirius’s smile froze on his face. “What? No! Why would you—”

Remus sat up too, narrowing his eyes. “Sirius. You know how much we needed that.”

“I didn’t eat it!” Sirius exclaimed, eyes wide. “I swear!”

But you both stared at him suspiciously, and just like that, the storm was back.

“I knew it!” you accused. “You don’t care about us!”

“Oh, Merlin, help me,” Sirius groaned, his head falling back in exasperation. “I’m not gonna survive this.”

You crossed your arms, looking deeply offended, while Remus sighed heavily, clearly upset again.

Sirius pulled out his phone, sending a frantic text to James and Lily.

Sirius: Send help. I’m not making it out of this alive.

“Sirius!” you and Remus shouted at the same time, drawing his attention back to you both.

“Okay, okay!” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll go buy more ice cream. Just… please stop looking at me like that. I feel like I’m in the middle of a war.”

Remus and you exchanged glances before looking back at him. “Hurry,” you both said in unison, and then, as if nothing happened, you both wrapped your arms around him again, squeezing him tight.

Sirius sighed dramatically, feeling your heads resting on his shoulders once more. “I’m doomed,” he whispered under his breath.

James's response came through.

James: You’ll be fine, mate. Just wait till they start crying again.

Sirius groaned, muttering to himself. “Why did I ever think dating both of you was a good idea?”

“Because you love us,” you whispered sleepily.

“And we love you,” Remus added with a small smile.

Sirius smiled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and Remus’s. “Yeah, I do.”

But then, just as the moment turned peaceful, you both tensed up again. Remus sat up abruptly, eyes wide. “Wait. Did you really eat the last of the ice cream?”

Sirius groaned dramatically, falling back onto the bed. "Merlin’s beard, I'm dead."

[tradgedyinwaves]

tw: emotional neglect, military inaccuracies, one sided relationship, sex, cursing, not necessarily unwanted sex, but not encouraged

You told him.

Over and over.

If he didn’t stop treating you like a maid and fuck buddy, you were done.

“Simon, you didn’t do the dishes like I asked and now I have to do them before I can get started on dinner,” you chastise, moving dishes around so you can get them done. His team was coming over for dinner that night, but he’d made no move to help you.

“Ah, I forgot. ‘M sorry,” he called from the couch, eyes still glued to the game flashing across the screen. You huffed and got to work, mentally creating a list of everything that would need done before the guys arrived in…four hours. Great, you had to shower too. 

Only once you’d finished the dinner and were getting into the shower, did Simon finally rise from the couch. He pushed his way in, joining you in the shower. His massive hands found your hips before sliding between your legs, searching for the little bundle of nerves.

Oh, now he wanted to pay attention to you? “Come on, luvie. Let me feel your tight cunt on my cock. I know how much you love my cock,” Simon grunted against your ear, his fingers dancing over the most intimate parts of you. And you let him.

Let him take what he wants because at least, he’s paying attention to you, right? You sigh as he slides into you, feeling the familiar burn and stretch. It’s quick and dirty. He pulls out to shoot his seed between your legs and down the drain. You don’t finish and climb out of the shower to let him finish in peace. 

You stand in front of your closet, opting for a black dress that flaunts your curves but still allows you comfort. Stepping out of the bathroom, fully nude as he uses a towel to dry his hair, he grunts when he glances at you but makes no effort to compliment or even really look at you. 

“I thought I asked you to do the laundry. You know I have that court marshal and Price will have my head if I don’t look presentable,” Simon rants from the bedroom, looking for the ONE button up he owns that he wore earlier in the week to a meeting with some big wigs that the higher ups wanted them to meet. 

The issue was that you were currently bedridden and unable to leave the bed for more than a few minutes to use the restroom or grab food. You’d been laid up with a case of pneumonia that led to bronchitis, making breathing difficult, let alone doing your boyfriend’s laundry. 

You didn’t answer him, rolling away from the closet and curling into yourself. He’d not even been taking care of you, citing that he couldn’t afford to get sick. What if he needed to be deployed, but he was stuck in bed because he was taking care of you? His reasoning was fair, but you were his girlfriend. Shouldn’t he be more worried about getting you well?

It was Simon’s last night home before being sent on a mission. You weren’t privy to where he was going or how long he’d be gone, but that was normal. Something you’d adjusted to when you started dating the man. 

Normally, he’d at least stay home with you the night before. Maybe a movie or something before he’d fuck you into the mattress for three minutes, leaving you unsatisfied. But he tried right? 

This time though, he was throwing his leather jacket on and grabbing the keys to his bike. “You’re seriously going out with the guys you’re shipping out with instead of staying home with me?” you cried, tears slipping down your cheeks as you finally broke from the quiet ways he neglected you. 

“Sorry. They wanted to have a good night of drinking before we’re forced to be sober for weeks on end,” he reasoned, barely even giving you a glance before coming over to kiss the top of your head then disappear out the door. 

The door clicked shut and you heard the key turn in the lock. 

When Simon returned two months later to an empty flat and all of your things missing, he was stunned. Finding the note and your copy of the flat key laying on the coffee table had him collapsing on the couch as he stared at the two sentence note you'd left. He’d taken you for granted for too long, neglected you when you deserved the world. 7 words to shatter his world.

“Don’t come looking for me. I’m done.” 

[runariya]

I am in love with that Jk merman story of yourssss , you are such a talented author !!!! Keep it up with the good work .

Even i want to request a prompt after that story because i believe only you have the capability to bring that prompt to life (only if you want to write ofcourse, no pressure )

I have never read an ABO fic with enemies to lovers troupe in modern era , I mean just imagine them being the high-school academic rival wolves who can't bear standing eachother

but the moment they turn 18 and their wolves will develop some special senses and powers, they both will realise that they both are actually mates . damnnn now image the strong pull their wolves will feel towards eachother making them go crazy ( their wolves will fall in love with eachother the moment they will recognize eachother as mate and start rebelling their human counterparts and start convincing them to love eachother too .)

and how bad they will try to hide it , deny their wolves forbid their animal counterparts from eachother only to fail miserably in the end because yeah that mate bond will win 🥹

You can choose any BTS member you want because I love and enjoy reading all seven of them so go for any member you want .

Borahae 💜 , no pressure if you are not interested in writing this prompt , I will still adore you and your work 💜 😘 so feel free to reject this request if you want .

part of the prompt game pairing: alpha!Jungkook x omega!female reader genre: fantasy!AU, "E"2L, ABO, high school romance warnings: Jungkook's the most pitiful teenager in all of existence, bad handling of emotions/feelings, a lot of cliques, denial, a little bit of physical fighting, mentions of blood, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 2.754

a/n: tysm for all your compliments, I'm so flattered 🫂 I've tweaked your request a tiny bit to fit the character of OC better and left out marking etc. bc they're still so young 🥹 hope that's okay 💕

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

He hates you.

No, he loathes your entire existence.

That Miss Perfect attitude, excelling in everything you do as if it’s the easiest task in the world. You’ve been enemies since high school started—not because either of you declared it so, but because Jungkook simply can’t stand you.

You, on the other hand, are oblivious to this feud, always kind and friendly towards everyone, especially Jungkook. He doesn’t understand how you do it, staying so humble and kind towards him when he takes every opportunity to throw jabs your way, or cause you minor inconveniences, like not holding the door open or letting you trip more times than he can count.

It’s infuriating to watch you be so lovely, especially when you’re not only the smartest but also the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen—something he will never admit. Ever.

“Jungkook?” Your soft, sweet voice startles him. He’s been too busy glaring at the papers scattered before him, his thoughts circling back to you. There's no one else in the lecture hall, and he didn’t even realise you’d entered. You seem to appear out of nowhere, catching him off guard. “I think you dropped this.”

You’re smiling again, that blinding smile of yours, starry eyes sparkling with joy, courteous as ever. He wants to scream. He doesn’t want this treatment from you, not when you’re a little older than him—well, only two months, but still. You’re 18 now, with your wolf, while he’s not, which only deepens his resentment. Once again, you’re ahead, better at something.

The whole school talked about your wolf. Despite your gentle nature, everyone was shocked to learn after your first turn that you’re an omega—one of the very few in the city, the only one known in school. It’s yet another thing Jungkook can’t stand, especially now that everyone, wolf or not, showers you with attention.

“Not mine,” Jungkook lies through his teeth, eyeing the pencil still held out towards him in your small, delicate hand, your nails perfectly manicured.

“Oh…” you murmur, glancing down at the pencil, your brows drawing together in disbelief. Of course, you don’t believe him. “But it’s got your initials, and it’s the one you’re always using.”

Damn you! Of course, you know it’s his favourite. He should’ve seen this coming.

“You think I’d use it after your germs have contaminated it?” Jungkook scoffs.

“That’s not very kind.” You purse your lips, those beautiful lips.

“It’s the truth, ___.”

“Is it okay if I keep it?”

What?! “What?” Jungkook can’t believe his ears. Why would you want to keep it?

“Can I keep your pen? It would be a waste to throw it away, especially when it looks so cool.” You repeat, smiling again.

The pencil is cool, and Jungkook has half a mind to just snatch it back, but he won’t give in. He won’t concede even the smallest defeat.

“I don’t care,” he grumbles. It’s enough to make you burst with joy, your face lighting up as you clutch the pencil to your chest.

“Thanks, Jungkook! You’re so kind!”

“Whatever.”

And ‘whatever’ indeed, because seeing you every day with his pencil, as if it’s the most precious thing in the world, drives him mad. He regrets his decision. He wants it back. It’s his, and what’s his should stay his, but it isn’t—and it makes him livid.

Livid in a way that fuels his pettiness, pushing him to new lengths to make your life difficult. He puts fake spiders in your bag, bumps into you when you’re struggling with your food tray in the canteen. But all of it is in vain, because you’re an omega—everyone’s darling. Every time something inconvenient happens to you, a horde of people rushes to your aid.

This alone is enough to make Jungkook reconsider his actions—or rather, the attention he’s giving you. It’s not like you care. It’s not like you treat him any differently when he’s mean. So what’s the point? At some stage, he’s not even sure why he started all this, why he loathes you so much. If he’s honest, you’ve never actually wronged him. Not once. And now, he’s running out of ways to break you, to show everyone your true colours, because no one can be this perfect, right?

It’s the Friday before his birthday weekend when you approach him again, this time holding a small present. You look up at him as he stands by his locker.

“Hey, Jungkook,” you say softly.

“What do you want?”

“Uhm, I know Sunday’s your 18th birthday and… well, I know you didn’t invite me to your party, which is totally fine! Don’t get me wrong! But I just wanted to give you this because it’s a big birthday, right? So, yeah…”

The tiny gift is wrapped in floral paper with a neatly tied bow, and it looks exactly how he imagined your presents would. It screams 'you', and he’s unsure what to say. He reckons he should just take it and thank you, but the way you’re looking up at him, so small and kind despite knowing you weren’t invited, bothers him like a sock slipping off mid-walk.

Jungkook reluctantly takes the present, ignoring the slight relieved droop of your shoulders and how your warm, soft fingers brushed softly against his.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, his eyes transfixed on the gift.

“Happy birthday, Jungkook. I hope it’ll be everything you wanted and beyond.”

And with that, you turn away, a light spring in your step, your hair moving behind you like a fairy’s wings.

Jungkook doesn’t waste any time after you leave, ripping the gift open in a rush of curiosity, only to freeze, stunned, when a tiny jewellery box is revealed to him. He’s never received any jewellery before, and the fact that it’s a gift from you—a female ‘stranger’, no less—makes his nerve endings prickle with discomfort. The idea of receiving something so personal feels wrong somehow, and yet, despite this strange feeling creeping over him, he still finds himself opening the small red box.

Inside, nestled on an equally red velvet cushion, is a delicate necklace with a pendant that bears his initials. It’s the prettiest necklace he’s ever seen, and the worst part is that he can already picture himself wearing it, the style so perfectly matching his aesthetic that it’s rather unsettling.

He carefully takes the necklace from the box, letting it twist and turn in the sunlight, the metal gleaming ever so mesmerising. But that’s when he notices an engraving on the back of the pendant, and as he peers closer, he fights the urge to rub his eyes.

You’ve had ‘alpha’ engraved onto it. There’s no way anyone could be so bold as to assume another person’s future rank, and yet here you are, making such an assumption about him. Jungkook can’t help but think maybe he was right all along—there’s something strange about you. You’re just a little too perfect, a little too confident in your kindness, a little too bold in your presumptions.

Shaking his head, he lets the necklace fall back into the box, snapping it shut and tossing it carelessly into his locker, fully intending to forget about it sooner or later. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

Saturday night and Sunday come and go in a blur of noise, people, and anticipation. Jungkook has invited practically everyone he knows to his birthday party, hoping that with the arrival of his wolf, his mate might finally be revealed as well. But no one who attends is his mate, and this realisation drags his mood dangerously low. He feels a nagging stab in his chest that he can’t shake, made even heavier by the recurring thought that you, little Miss Perfect, were right all along—Jungkook has become an alpha, just as you predicted. Typical.

What infuriates him even more is that on Monday morning, as you—like always—walk past his locker on your way to the lecture hall, the world seems to slow around him. He watches in disbelief as you suddenly stop, staring at him with wide eyes that shimmer with unshed tears. You look stunned, but more than that, you look happy, as though you’ve just discovered something wonderful. And then, in the midst of his confusion, his inner wolf starts to go wild, barking ‘mate’ over and over again, leaping with excitement inside him.

It should be a moment of joy, a moment where he feels relief and happiness in finally knowing who his mate is. But instead, all Jungkook feels is denial, a desperate refusal to accept the truth, even though, deep down, he knows that you’re everything he ever wanted in a mate.

Still, he turns away from you, ignoring the way your face crumples, the way your bright, hopeful tears turn into ones of sadness, the way you rush past him with your head down, leaving his wolf whimpering in confusion and hurt. Jungkook tries to convince himself that this can’t be real, that it can’t be right, even though every part of him knows it’s exactly what he wanted, what he’s been waiting for.

In the days that follow, he struggles to keep up his usual routine of tormenting you, making snide remarks whenever he gets the chance, but there’s no joy in it anymore. You’re not kind to him the way you used to be, not anymore. You don’t smile at him, don’t even really smile at anyone; instead, you accept his cruelty with a resigned, sad look in your eyes and a forced, brittle smile that never quite reaches your eyes.

Each day, it becomes harder and harder for Jungkook to suppress his wolf, who clearly isn’t on the same page with his cold treatment of you. His wolf growls at him, restless and unhappy, frustrated with the way things are. And Jungkook knows—he understands why—but he feels trapped.

How could he possibly make things right after all he’s done to you? How could he ever redeem himself after letting his bitterness and resentment carry him so far? It doesn’t help that the necklace you gave him is now tucked securely under his shirt, the cool metal pendant resting against his chest, near his heart, multiplying the ache that’s slowly but surely forming there as well. He fiddles with it absentmindedly, the action soothing in a way he can’t explain, though it only makes the guilt grow.

“Jungkook?”

He no longer startles when you appear, his wolf always sensing your presence before you even speak, and your voice has become so quiet, so broken, that it doesn’t have the same effect it once did.

Looking at you now, standing there with your eyes downcast and your voice soft, makes him wish he could take it all back—every harsh word, every petty action. He wishes he could go back and rewrite everything, build something good between you instead of tearing it down. But it’s too late for that, far too late, and he knows it.

When he doesn’t respond, you gather the courage to continue, your voice wavering slightly. “I know it’s random, but I noticed your grades haven’t been as good as they used to be. I know you’re not the kind of person who needs help, but… if there’s anything I can do, just let me know, yeah?”

He wants to snap at you, wants to push you away, but he’s so exhausted—exhausted from pretending he doesn’t care, exhausted from pretending he hates you, and most of all, exhausted from fighting this undeniable bond between you.

Tears prick at his eyes, overwhelming him with guilt, frustration, and something else he can’t quite name. He’s so fed up with himself, so trapped in the mess he’s made that he doesn’t know how to fix it, doesn’t even know where to start.

“Hey… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” you say, your voice tinged with panic now as you shift nervously on the spot, your hands reaching out towards him only to pull back, unsure of what to do. “I’m sorry…”

“Stop!” Jungkook yells, and the sound of his own voice surprises him. You flinch, your entire body recoiling as if he’s physically struck you, your trembling hands clasping tightly in front of you.

“I… I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers, and before Jungkook can say anything else, you turn and run, disappearing down the hall, leaving him standing there with the misery of his guilt pressing down harder than ever.

To think it couldn’t get worse was the stupidest thought Jungkook ever had, because it got worse. Not only did his little outburst suffocate him in guilt, but it also made you avoid him every chance you got. It also didn’t help that most people noticed your changed persona, adding one plus one and recognising Jungkook as the culprit.

He doesn’t fault them, doesn’t really mind the insults coming his way, of being heartless for not wanting a mate like you, when he knows they speak the truth. He doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve someone who he clearly hurts without a true reason.

And the way his inner wolf retreats now from him too, is something he understands as well, because there’s literally nothing he could do to mend what he’s broken.

It’s one afternoon after classes have just finished, and he’s walking out of the school when he notices you cornered against the wall by some other alphas, three in total. Jungkook’s immediately enraged, and it’s then that his wolf rises to full strength, baring his teeth and growling violently.

You’re clearly uncomfortable, clearly scared of what might happen, especially when one of these alphas gets in your face, giving you no way to escape. The last straw for Jungkook is when one runs his filthy finger along your beautiful face.

“Hey!” Jungkook roars, storming towards the alphas who have now turned to laugh in his face. “Back off.”

“What?! She’s fair game.” One mocks, while you’re still pressed against the wall, but your eyes are hopefully locked onto Jungkook.

“I said back off my mate.”

They do, but only to now lunge at Jungkook, thinking that outnumbering him will shoo him away. But it doesn’t—Jungkook won’t let anyone else touch you, his wolf and himself ready to do anything to protect you. And so, Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to take each one of them down.

Driven by adrenaline, he doesn’t notice the sting of the hits he couldn’t block, but it’s nothing compared to the urge to protect you with all he has, all he is.

One after the other falls to the floor, while blood trickles from his split lip, knuckles burning and swollen, his chest still heaving, his wolf still angrily jabbing at the air.

“Jungkook?” His eyes snap up to you when you call for him, and he’s relieved to find no repulsion or fear in them when they lock onto him.

“Are you okay?”

“Thank you,” you nod, and his wolf wags his tail, barking mate, deafening all his other senses.

“Good."

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?”

You hesitate, and it makes him feel powerless all over again, but eventually you whisper, “Because I’m not who you wanted.”

It’s broken, it’s defeated, and it’s everything he never wanted his mate to say, because it’s not the truth. Never was. Never will be.

“But you are.” Jungkook tries to smile, despite knowing it’s not hopeful or kind, but sad in all the ways his decisions led it to be.

“I am?”

Seeing your eyes gradually returning to their lively, sparkly self is more than he ever wished to witness, more than he ever should receive, but everything he ever wanted.

“You are. Always were.”

And with that, he opens his arms, stepping over the still-groaning alphas to get closer to you.

With a push off the wall, you sprint into Jungkook’s arms, tears of relief running down your cheeks as he embraces you like you wished he would from the start. But it doesn’t matter, because no time apart could ruin the feeling of him embracing you and your bond.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook mumbles into your hair, inhaling the magnificent scent of you.

“It’s fine, everything’s fine.”

And as you cling to him, your wolves finally as content as you are, you know that you’d never change a thing, because it’s better to be loved willingly than with no other choice.

[sweet-villain]

Stumble Confessions ~ Steve Harrington

Summary : You confess to Steve how you feel and it doesn't go well.

The air crackled with the smell of burnt popcorn as the flickering light from the TV danced across the room. Laughter erupted from Steve, his head thrown back, as you gathered the courage to speak.

“Steve, I need to tell you something.”

He turned, puzzled.

“Is this about the movie? Because I thought we agreed it was terrible.”

“No, it’s about us.” Your voice trembled, the words stacking up behind a wall of doubt.

“Us?”

“Yeah. I like you.” A sigh escaped as the confession slipped free, a fragile thing in the chaos of his laughter.

“You’re joking.” Steve wiped tears from the corners of his eyes, still chuckling. “You’re serious?”

“Do you think I’d joke about this?” His laughter stung, tiny nails scraping against your heart.

“C’mon,” he said, trying to catch his breath. “You’re like, my best friend. This is…” His words faded into a breathy chuckle, the comedy of it thrumming between you.

You glanced away, the room suddenly drowning in silence. The TV buzzed on, oblivious to the shift.

“Forget it,” you said, barely above a whisper.

As he turned back to the screen, the weight of unsaid things hung heavy in the air, cracking like static.

Steve mumbled something, still fixated on the flickering horror movie, but gave nothing more than a casual shrug. 

“Seriously?” You tightened your fists, your pulse pounding. “You can

“You can't just laugh it off, Steve. You’re not even trying to take me seriously.”

“Okay, okay.” He turned slightly, the humor fading from his eyes. “I just didn’t expect… Well, it kind of blindsided me. "

"Look, you’re like a sister to me,” he said, fidgeting with the popcorn bowl. “This isn’t exactly what I envisioned when I invited you over for movie night.”

“A sister?” The bitterness coated your words like oil, "Oh forgot, you're still hung on Nancy" His expression shifted, a flash of defensiveness replacing the amusement. “It’s not like that.” 

“Then what is it, Steve? You think we fit into pre-worn boxes? Can’t a friendship be something more?”

" You're being childish," Steve mutters. His shoulders squared, the flicker of irritation igniting in his eyes. 

“Childish?” You felt the heat rising to your face. “Having feelings isn’t childish. You just don’t get it, do you?”

" You have a silly crush on me, it will go away" His words clipped through the air, sharp and dismissive. You clenched your jaw, fighting the sting of rising anger mingled with hurt.

"That’s all you see? Just a crush?” The words spilled out, unable to hold back any longer.

“Let’s be real, you and I? We live in different worlds.” He waved his hands, gesturing around the cluttered room. “You’re endless daydreams while I’m just…me. And I’m still figuring it out. You think we could just click like that? It’s complicated.”

“Complicated?” You laughed, but it sounded hollow. “You think love needs a roadmap?”

" Love? Now your in over your head silly girl" Steve rolled his eyes, a defensive mask slipping over his features. “I’m just saying… what we have is solid. Why mess with it?”

“Because what we have isn’t enough for me.” You crossed your arms, feeling the walls close.

" It's always about you, huh?" Steve’s eyes narrowed. “You think I don’t care? You think I enjoy hurting you like this?”

“You’re not hurting me. You just don’t see.” You met his gaze, a fire flickering in the depth of your own.

The conversation stops there and you leave for the night.

The streetlights flickered as you stepped outside, the chill of the night air biting through your jacket. The laughter behind you felt like a ghost, haunting the space where your hope had just dissolved. Shadows danced along the pavement, twisting with your thoughts

You paused at the curb, the chill wrapping around you like a shroud. The moon hung high, casting silver beams onto the empty street. You caught your breath, each inhale heavy with the sharpness of rejection. 

The quiet thrum of the night enveloped you. You pulled your jacket tighter, fighting back the chill both outside and within. 

The night deepened as you paced along the deserted street, each footfall punctuating the silence. A distant echo of Steve’s laughter lingered in the back of your mind, a cruel reminder of what could never be. 

The wind whispered tales

You leaned against the lamppost, the harsh light flickering intermittently. A low rumble of an approaching car disturbed the stillness. The vehicle glided by, its headlights slicing through the darkness, offering a brief glimpse of a world untouched by your turmoil. You stared at its retreating tail lights, warmth fading as it disappeared into the distance.

From the shadows, voices drifted towards you—kids laughing, carefree in their twilight play. It felt like a distant echo. They chased each other down the street, their joy stark against the cold air enveloping you.

You shoved your hands deeper into your pockets, a cold reminder of Steve’s laughter wrapping around your heart like a vice. How could he not see? 

As the echoes of laughter faded, you turned toward home, the pavement underfoot feeling rough and unyielding. Each step drove the reality of your situation deeper into your chest. 

A haunting melody floated through the night air, the sound unfamiliar yet compelling. You paused, straining to pinpoint its origin. It rang in crystalline fragments, echoing off the walls of nearby houses and blending into the wind’s whispers. 

Blood pours down your nose and in confusion you wipe it away. You stared at the crimson smear on your fingers, disbelief mixing with a sudden rush of adrenaline. 

The door creaked as you pushed it open, the familiar scent of stained wood and fading lavender filling the entryway. You stepped inside, the warmth cocooning you, yet the chill of rejection still lingered at the edges. 

"Are you alright?" Grandma’s voice broke through the haze of your thoughts, her figure framed in the soft glow of the hallway. She hovered there, worry etched across her brow.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. The blood turned your fingertipsa dark maroon, a stark contrast to the pale wood of the entryway. 

“Your nose looks bad.” Grandma stepped closer, her concern mounting. 

“Just a little bump,” you said, forcing a smile, but it faltered,as your mind flickered back to the laughter that echoed in the air, sharp as shards of glass. Grandma's hand brushed against your cheek, the warmth of her palm a stark contrast to the chill settling deep in your bones.

“You know, I remembers those days when you used to tell me everything.” Grandma's voice softened, nostalgia dancing in her eyes. “You can talk to me, dear.”

The warmth of her concern mixed with the cold ache in your chest. You wanted to spill everything, but the words caught in your throat, entangled in a web of hurt and confusion. 

“I just… I told Steve how I feel,” you finally managed, your gaze dropping to the floor, avoiding the tender scrutiny of her eyes.

"Did he make fun of you?” Grandma’s voice clipped through the air, sharp with protective instinct.

You swallowed hard, the taste of humiliation bitter on your tongue. “He laughed. Said it was ridiculous. Just a silly crush.”

“Kids can be cruel, especially when they don’t understand,” Grandma said, her voice steadier than you felt.

“Cruel?” You shook your head, your hands curling into fists. “He’s not a kid. He’s just… Steve. And he doesn’t get it. Maybe he never will.”

“People are often blind to what’s right in front of them.” Grandma brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, her gaze softened by years of wisdom. “But that doesn’t diminish your feelings. It takes courage to be honest about what you want.”

“I just wish…” The words hung suspended, heavy with unresolved longing. “I wish he could see me.”

Grandma studied you for a moment, her eyes reflecting a depth of understanding that cut through the pain.

“What do you need him to see?” she asked, her tone gentle but probing.

“He needs to see me as something more. Not just his best friend,” you said, frustration leaking into your voice. “I’m not just a backup plan or someone to laugh at.” 

" Get some rest, dear" your grandma kissed your head. The warmth of your grandmother’s kiss lingered, but the comfort faded with every heartbeat. You turned away, the urge to fight bubbling beneath the surface. 

Heading up the stairs, you walked into your room feeling it cold as you glance at the picture of your mother. " I miss you mom" The photograph stared back, capturing her smile in a moment of sun-drenched joy. You traced your fingertip over its glossy surface, the warmth of memory clashing with the chill in your heart. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in as shadows crept along the edges of your vision. You tossed your jacket onto the bed, frustration igniting a spark in your chest.

You paced back and forth, the wooden floor creaking under your steps. Memories flooded your mind—the laughter you shared, the late-night conversations where secrets spilled like candy wrappers scattered on the floor, the moments when it felt like you were the only two souls in the universe. Yet tonight, it felt tainted by the echo of rejection, the sour taste of his laughter still curling in your ears. 

" You won't be good enough for him" the voice spoke to you. But you don't know who it is as you turned around in your room in fright. The air thickened, heavy with silence, as if the very walls held their breath. You glanced over your shoulder, your pulse quickening. Shadows twisted, melding into each other, forming shapes that felt simultaneously familiar and threatening.

A knot formed inyour stomach, twisting tighter with each fleeting shadow. 

You pressed your back against the door, bracing for something—anything—to leap from the darkness. Your breath quickened as the soft echoes of the night filtered through the window.

Then, likea sudden gust of wind, the shadows receded into drapes of darkness, leaving only stillness in their wake. You dared to breathe, the air thick with the scent of old wood and mothballs, tinged with something unsettling.

Darkness settled over the days like a heavy blanket, smothering thoughts, and breath. Nights blurred together, each one winding tighter around you, a relentless grip that threatened to suffocate all logic. Your mind raced between thoughts of Steve and the eerie whispers that danced around the edges of sleep. Each time you closed your eyes, shadows creeped closer, wrapping themselves around you like tendrils of smoke. You lay wide awake, the memory of Steve’s laughter echoing relentlessly while the air felt thick with something unspoken.

The thin slip of paper landed softly on your desk, its edges curling slightly as it slid into place. You looked at Nancy, her brow furrowed, the concern in her eyes cutting through the fog of confusion.

You unfolded the note, the paper crinkling quietly in your hands.

*Hey, are you okay? I saw your nose…*

It felt like a lifeline thrown into a sea of chaos. You glanced around the classroom, the mundane chatter fading into a muffled backdrop as you focused on Nancy’s note. *I’m fine,* you scribbled back, each stroke of the pen wishing the weight in your heart away. But even as you scrawled the words, you felt he truth press against your ribs, heavy and unyielding. 

Your name was called in a whisper distance. “Hey, you okay?” Nancy leaned closer, her voice a concerned whisper. “You’ve been out of it.” 

You forced a smile, though it felt more like a mask slipping awkwardly in place. 

“I’m fine.” 

Nancy leaned in, her eyes narrowing with determination. “This isn’t like you. The nosebleeds, the days off… Something's off, isn’t it? You can talk to me.”

You shook your head, feeling the pressure build in your chest. 

“It’s just… everything’s fine. Really.” A forced laugh escaped your lips, brittle and unnatural.

“Don’t do that.” Nancy’s gaze drilled into you, unwavering. “You can’t brush this off. I can sense there’s more. You’re not fine, and I know it.” 

“Fine, you want the truth?” You leaned closer, the classroom buzzing around you fading into the background. “I’m just… a little stressed. That’s all of it.” 

Nancy crossed her arms, unwavering. “Stressed? What, over school? That doesn’t explain your nose. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Nancy decides to ask you, " Have you been hearing clock chimes?" The question hung in the air like a whispered secret. You stared at her, blinking against the flood of memories and strange sounds that invaded your nights.

“Clock chimes?” Confusion twisted in your gut. “What do you mean?”

In your head, like your seeing things too?" The world around you faded, leaving only Nancy's voice echoing against the backdrop of your swirling thoughts. You leaned closer, aware of the weight of the moment pressing down. 

“I think…I think I’ve heard them,” you admitted, the admission.

Nancy face paled as she understood what was happening. " We have to tell the others, your in danger." The words hit you like a punch to the gut, the gravity of the situation pooling in your stomach. “Danger? What do you mean by that?” 

“We know what’s been happening in Hawkins,” Nancy said, her voice dropping to a near whisper, urgency threading through her words. “The disappearances, the strange occurrences. They’ve all been linked to Vecna. If he’s after you…” 

Your heart raced, the weight of those words pressing down like a leaden blanket.

Vecna is… well, he’s not just a myth anymore,” Nancy murmured, glancing over her shoulder, as if the name itself might summon shadows. “He’s connected to the disappearances. The kids… They’re victims."

"Am I a victim?" Nancy’s eyes widened, the gravity of your question hanging in the space between you. “I don’t know, but if you’re hearing things... If things are happening to you… It could be a sign.”

" I keep hearing my name called and clock chimes. I heard talking in my head too" Nancy’s gaze sharpened, piecing together the fragments of your fragmented account. “This isn’t good. We need to figure out what's happening and quickly."

“Figure out what?” Panic clawed at your throat. “What do we do?”

We have to tell the others" she closed her books and stood up. " come on, let's go. We don't have much time." With a single glance back at the classroom, you followed Nancy’s lead, your heart pounding against your ribcage. The hustle of students faded as you hurried out into the sun-drenched hallway, where the fluorescent lights flickered above, mir

roring the chaos within you. Each step felt heavier as you navigated through the sea of students, their laughter and chatter blurring into noise that masked your racing thoughts.

“Stay close,” Nancy urged, her tone urgent as she cut through the crowd of students. The halls seemed to stretch endlessly, lockers slamming and feet pounding against the linoleum floor. The buzz of youthful chaos faded into white noise, but your heart drummed relentlessly in your chest.

“Where are we going?” you asked. " Steve's house, everyone will meet us there" Nancy navigated the throng of students, her determination cutting a path through the chaos. You ducked under the fluorescent light fixtures, their flickering reflections dancing in your periphery. The tightening in your chest pushed you forward, though doubt clung.

The lights began to flicker causing you to stop in your tracks, fearing the worst. “Nancy!” Panic strummed through your voice, slicing through the din. “What’s happening?” 

She turned to face you, her brow knotted. “Just keep moving. Don’t stop.” 

They both get into the car as Nancy drives off fearing the worst is to come, looking at you seeing how lost you are in all of this. The car’s engine roared to life, a rumbling counterpoint to the chaos building in your chest. Nancy’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white against the black leather. As she turned the corner, you stole glances at the passing buildings, their familiar shapes blurring into streaks of color. The world outside felt unmoored, each street a stranger as the gravity of your situation sank deeper.

“Do you really think Vecna is after me?” Fear curled in the pit of your stomach, biting and relentless.

“I don’t know for sure, but we can't take any chances,” Nancy said, her voice steady despite the tension in the air. The car accelerated, tires screeching against the asphalt as Nancy navigated the streets with a focus that bordered on frantic, her eyes darting between the road and the rearview mirror, as if expecting something sinister to loom just out of sight.

“I can feel it, Nancy.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, a raw confession tearing from your chest.

The car comes to a stop at Steve's house as she races with you hot on her tail inside where she throws the door open, " Vecna is after Y/N" she steps aside as your eyes land on Steve, Mike, Eddie, Lucas, Max, Steve and the others. The air in the room hung heavy, the ticking of a clock marking your racing heartbeat as you entered. Conversations faded into silence, eyes turning toward you and Nancy, the weight of the moment suffocating. Eddie leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he surveyed the scene, his usually playful demeanor replaced with a sharp attention that cut through the tension.

“What’s going on?” Lucas leaned forward, eyes glinting with concern. 

“We think Vecna might be targeting Y/N,” Nancy leaned back slightly, her voice steady despite the storm brewing around you. “It’s serious. She’s been hearing things, and—”

“Things?” Eddie interrupted, dark eyebrows knit together inquisitively. “What kind of things?”

“I’ve been hearing chimes,” you said, the words spilling out as if they'd been locked away for too long. “And voices. Sometimes my name. It’s like—” You hesitated, the shadows of uncertainty creeping back in, but you forced yourself to continue. “It’s like someone’s calling me. And it happens in the quiet moments, especially at night.”

Steve crossed his arms, a guarded expression settling on his face.

He exchanged a glance with Nancy, tension popping in the air. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice rang flat, eyes locked onto yours, but the weight of his words felt charged, electric.

"Because… I thought it was just stress. I didn’t want to freak anyone out,” you admitted, the confession tasting bitter against your tongue. Every face in the room stared back, a sea of concern and disbelief washing over you.

“Plus it's my parent's death anniversary tomorrow.." The room fell into a heavy silence, each word landing like a stone. Steve’s expression shifted, the lines of amusement from earlier giving way to an unsettling concern. 

“Shit.” Mike’s voice cut through the quiet.

" Language!" Nancy shouts. “Sorry,” Mike muttered, his eyes darting between you and the others as the mood thickened.

“Maybe we should've figured this out earlier,” Lucas said, shifting nervously. “What if it’s already started?”

“It has started,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the truth settling heavily in the room. “I feel it. Every day gets worse.” 

Eddie pushed off the wall, stepping closer, his presence a small comfort against the weight of fear that constricted your chest. “We need to figure out how to stop it,” he said, determination glinting in his eyes. “No way are we letting Vecna get to you.”

“Exactly.” Nancy nodded, her gaze unwavering.

The lights were flickering earlier in school today" you tell them. “Flickering?” Steve’s brows furrowed, tension tightening the lines around his eyes. “Like, just like that night?”

“Exactly,” you replied, the weight of his earlier laughter hanging heavy in the air. “It’s almost as if he's coming." 

Steve ran a hand through his hair, the familiar gesture grounded in confusion and worry. “Look, we can’t wait around for something bad to happen. We need to take control of this.”

You were out of trance as you heard your name being called louder, this time closer and more evil. It was him. Vecna. The shadows thickened, wrapping around you like a shroud, your heart hammering against your ribcage. 

“Y/N!” The call slithered through the air, dripping with malice. 

Guys!" Dustin shouted. " Her eyes!" Your heart lurched, an icy grip tightening around your throat. You blinked, instinctively rubbing your eyes, but that only deepened the horror. A dark haze encroached on your vision, twisting the air around you into something suffocating and oppressive. 

“Y/N!” The voice grew louder, more insistent, invading your mind like an unwelcome guest. The shadows writhed, and with them, dread surged, pulling you deeper and deeper into an abyss. 

Steve began to panic seeing you eyes and you weren't replying back to him as he shook you over and over. “Y/N! Talk to me!” Steve’s grip tightened, shaking you as if trying to rattle sense back into you. His voice cut through the haze, but the darkness coiled tighter, a vice around your thoughts.

Eddie took your one side and yelled in your ear to help. “Y/N! Snap out of it!” Eddie’s voice broke through the haze, frantic and sharp. His hands gripped your shoulders, shaking you slightly, as if trying to jar your consciousness back from the darkness.

" You can't do this, not now. Not ever!" Steve shouted.The room blurred, a whirlpool of colors and shapes narrowing into a single point of darkness. You tried to grasp onto the voices, the echoes wrapping around you like tendrils, pulling you deeper into the abyss.

“Y/N!” 

You snapped back out it but crowed in fear as you saw him in your head. He was close. Your heart raced as the figure loomed in the shadows of your mind, ethereal yet tangible—a grotesque silhouette with hollow eyes boring into you, a void staring back, endlessly deep. You felt cold sweat trickle down your spine, panic pooling.

" I'm going to die.." you mumbled, snapping out of it. "You’re not going to die!" Steve’s voice sliced through the ambient noise, desperation creeping into the edges of his tone. He pulled you closer, his eyes fierce with resolve.

“I swear, I can see him! He’s coming! Vecna is trying to take me!” Your voice trembled, a raw edge of panic seeping through the cracks of your composure.

“Not on my watch!” Steve’s grip tightened. The urgency in his voice cut through the chaos as the gathered friends.

“Y/N, we’re not going to let that happen,” Eddie said, his tone steady but laced with urgency. “We’re a team, remember?” 

" Friends till the end" Eddie bumps your head with his playfully. You cracked a weak smile, the warmth of his jest breaking through the fog, if only for a moment. 

Steve’s intensity didn’t waver. “Alright, we need a plan. Has anyone found something related to Vecna’s pattern?”

All eyes turned to Mike, who fumbled with his notes, the pages crinkling in his anxious grip. “I have some stuff on the disappearances. It’s like he’s targeting people with… unresolved grief or trauma. It’s a-" he stops.

" He wants you to relive how your parents died. That's your truama. You were in the car? " You recoiled, disbelief rushing through you like ice water. “No. No, that can’t be right.” A wave of nausea crashed over you, each heartbeat echoing memories you wished to bury. 

“Y/N…” Steve began, his voice steady yet filled with an urgency that sent shivers down your spine. “It’s not just about them. It’s about you. Vecna is powerful; he feeds on your fears. We can’t let him exploit that.”

" I was only six years old when my parents died. It was horrible. I was found with my leg broken in my mother's hands.. it was in the papers.." you tell them. The silence that enveloped the room pressed down like a heavy blanket, each word echoing in the charged air. You could feel the pity in their stares, the concern etched on their faces, and it only deepened the ache in your chest.

He's going to use my mother isn't he?" The question hung heavily in the air, its weight palpable. Silence filled the room, thick and suffocating, as if the shadows themselves were listening, poised to ensnare you in memory. 

“Y/N…” Nancy stepped forward, eyes wide with compassion. “We can’t let him get into your head. We need you to fight this.”

“Fight what?” The bitterness in your voice surprised you, but the edges of fear curled at your spine. “How am I supposed to, Fight what? How am I supposed to fight something that’s already in my head?”

Nancy stepped closer, her expression fierce, determination shining through her gaze. “You aren’t alone. We’ll help you face him. We’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

“We’ll find something to counter him,” Lucas said, a hint of bravado tinging his voice. “We’ve faced down monsters before. We’ll do it again.”

“Together,” Max chimed in, her voice steady, a fierce light sparking in her eyes. You looked around the room, at the faces of your friends—each one a pillar of strength against the rising tide of dread.

“Together,” you repeated, though the tremor in your

oice betrayed the fear clawing at your insides.

“Alright, let’s get to work.” Steve’s gaze settled on a large whiteboard propped against the wall.

He strode over, markers in hand, determination emanating from him likea blazing fire. He scribbled down notes, brainstorming ideas, while your breaths came in short bursts, the weight of the moment pressing down on your shoulders. 

“Okay, we’ll need to review everything we know about Vecna,” Steve declared his voice steady as he turned back to the group. “We have to figure out his weaknesses and what he feeds on. If he’s targeting unresolved grief and trauma, we can’t let him use that against you.”

You stepped forward, heart thundering in your chest, desperate to contribute despite the hollow feeling that gnawed at your insides. 

“I can think of moments…experiences,” you started, your voice shaky. “Things that might give him power. Memories that I can't run from.” 

The room shuddered with silence, a heavy weight settling upon everyone. Each face turned toward yours, expressions ranging from concern to resolve, a mixture reflecting back all you feared and all you hoped.

“Tell us,” Nancy urged, her voice a steady anchor amidst the storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you.

You took a deep breath, grounding yourself in the unyielding presence of your friends. With each word, the memories clawed their way to the surface like long-buried secrets clawing through the soil. 

“I remember that night. The sound of glass shattering, the way the car felt like it was spinning, the feel of my leg snapping like a twig,” you murmured, voice faltering as the memory cascaded through you. Each fragment felt sharp, cutting into the present with ruthless clarity.

“The smell of burning rubber, the sinking realization that my parents were…” You choked on the words, fighting back the surge of

that had pierced the confines of your memory for so long. “...were gone.”

The room fell quiet, the weight of your confession hanging in the air like a heavy fog.

" Oh god, he's going to really kill me.." The words fell from your lips in a whispered tremor, the truth unfurling like an ancient script long buried in your mind. Panic washed over you, a tidal wave crashing against the fortress of your resolve. Steve’s gaze sharpened, slicing through the tension, his determination coiling tighter around you.

“Y/N, focus,” he commanded, voice steady and unyielding. “We’re going to figure this out. You’re not alone in this.”

You heard his chuckle, " Guys... he's in my head.." The laughter rippled through the room, but it felt empty, reverberating off the walls as if all humor had been sucked from the air. A chill crept up your spine, reminding you of the darkness lurking just beyond the door.

Your memories are powerful,” Eddie said softly, his voice breaking the suffocating silence that held you captive. “But they don't have to dictate what happens next. You can control this.”

“He's talking..." you tell them. “Who’s talking?” Steve’s voice rose, tension tightening the air between you.

“Vecna,” you murmured, both terrified and mesmerized by the sensation that enveloped you. “He’s whispering. He wants to take me.

“Take you? Where?” Steve shot back, urgency lacing his words. Panic thrummed in the air, stretching thin as you wrestled with the grip of their concern.

“To… to that dark place. I can feel him pulling me.”

Panic surged through the room, each heartbeat reverberating against the walls like the thrum of impending dread.

"Listen to me," Steve's voice cut through the chaos, grounding you, though his urgency matched the frantic rhythm of your pulse.

“Y/N, listen to me.” Steve stepped closer, the intensity in his eyes igniting a flicker of determination within you. “You need to fight back. He thrives on fear. Remember that.”

Shadows twisted in the corners of your vision, and the oppressive darkness loomed larger, pulsating like a heartbeat against the chill in the air. You felt Steve's gaze bore into you, a tie to the reality that anchored you amid the encroaching madness. Panic rose in your chest, but Steve’s presence felt like a shield, holding back the waves of shadow that threatened to overwhelm you. 

“Y/N, listen,” he urged, his voice low and steady. “We’re going to come up with a plan.

but you need to stay with us. We can’t afford to lose you to him.”

“I—I’m trying,” you gasped, the weight of the memories threatening to pull you under. Each recollection felt like a hand gripping your throat.

" What if we sleep here, in the same room watching over Y/N and taking turns?" Dustin suggests.

"Sleep here?” Max frowned, crossing her arms. “You think that’ll keep Vecna away?”

“We have to do something,” Dustin insisted. “If he gets into her head while we’re not around… we can’t let that happen.”

The room fell silent again, every face reflecting the urgency of the situation. You could practically feel the undercurrent of dread winding through the air, tightening like a noose around your throat. 

“That might be the best idea we have right now.” Steve nodded, his eyes flicking between you and the group, weighing the impact of his next words. 

“Okay, let’s do it. All of us stay here tonight.” He turned to you, urgency lacing his tone. “We will make sure nothing gets to you.”

Your heart sank at the gravity of the promise resonating in his voice. Doubt nibbled at your resolve. This wasn’t just another movie night; it felt like walking a tightrope over an abyss.

he clock above the mantel ticked ominously, each second a reminder that time was slipping away. Tomorrow marked the day when shadows took everything from you, and it felt like Vecna anticipated your grief like a predator lying in wait.

“Alright"

The kitchen felt like a different world. Dim light filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the tile floor. You scuffed your sneakers against the linoleum, the sound punctuating the heavy silence that settled around you.

“Y/N,” Steve called softly, his voice breaking the stillness like a whisper in an empty room. 

You turned to face him, the weight of everything pooling at the corners of your eyes. The anger and confusion still roiled inside, battling with the empowerment of his unwavering presence. 

“Steve,” you started, but the words caught in your throat, tangled with fear. The emotions churned, a storm brewing just beneath the surface.

“Hey.” He stepped closer, concern pooling in his gaze. “ I know tonight is going to be tough,” he said, his voice low and steady. “But you’re not alone. We have your back, okay? All of us. The memories, the darkness—they don’t have to win.”

You opened your mouth, but the lump in your throat hardened. The floodgates threatened to burst, memories crowding your mind’s eye, invading the sanctuary of your heart. 

“I’m scared,” you breathed, the admission breaking against the tension in the air like a fragile glass.

Steve stepped closer, the warmth of his presence anchoring you. “I get that. It’s okay to be scared. Hell, I’m terrified too, but you have to trust us. Together, we can keep Vecna away from you.” 

The weight of his words wrapped around you, squeezing tight as the truth settled in your chest. You searched his eyes, looking for the assurance you so desperately craved. The flickering kitchen light cast shadows that danced ominously on the walls, echoing the turmoil within. You felt the warmth of his presence, yet beneath it swirled a tempest of insecurity and fear, pulling at the seams of your resolve.

The moon bathed the room in a pale glow, illuminating the familiar chaos of Steve’s living room—crumpled popcorn bags, scattered board games, and remnants of holiday decorations. A circle of sleeping bags hugged the edges, each one a fortress of comfort and safety crafted by your friends. Yet the shadows beyond the window pressed against the glass, encroaching like a tide that threatened to pull you under.

“Hey.” Steve’s voice broke the quiet, gentle but firm. He stood just inside the doorway, framed by the soft glow of the kitchen light behind him. 

“You okay?” He ventured closer, his brows knitted with concern. The shadows danced in the corners of the room, reflections of your unspoken fears.

“I… glanced at the moon, its cold light filtering through the window like a silver blade. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “What if he comes for me tonight? What if I can’t fight him ?” The tremor in your voice resonated through the stillness, a raw thread of fear tugging at the edges of your composure.

Steve stepped closer, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a familiar blanket. “You’re not alone in this,” he said, drawing nearer until he occupied the space beside you on the couch. The shadows stretched, swallowing the edges of the room, but your heart steadied a fraction, anchored by his proximity.

“I just…” You stopped, your voice faltering as the weight of your thoughts crashed down like a tidal wave. “I don’t want to lose anyone else. I can’t go through that again.” 

Steve’s gaze softened, mirroring the swell of sympathy in your chest. “You won’t. I promise we’re going to make it through this. We’ll find a way to defeat him.” 

His confidence wrapped around you, a fragile shield against the darkness clawing at your thoughts. The swell of emotions cracked the surface, threatening to spill over. You turned to face him, searching his eyes for the reassurance you so desperately craved.

“Promise?” The word came out as a whisper, laced with vulnerability. 

“Promise.” He met your gaze with unwavering intensity, the warmth in his eyes igniting something within you—a flicker of hope pushing against the shadows that threatened to suffocate you. 

Just then, a resonating chime echoed through the tranquil hum of the night, slicing through the fragile air like glass shattering. It lingered in the corners of the room, twisting the familiar into something malevolent and dark, a music box tune gone awry. The sound slithered through the air, curling around your senses like smoke as dread tightened its grip on your throat.

“Did you hear that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as the chill of apprehension crept in. 

No" Steve says.“Are you sure?” You leaned closer, straining to listen. The silence that followed felt like a heavy blanket, pressing down, making the air thick and suffocating. 

“ Take a deep breathe" Steve's voice broke through the thickening silence, firm yet soothing. Your heart raced, panic clawing at your throat, but you focused on his words, drawing in a shaky breath.

“Breathe with me,” he instructed, his tone steady.

As he inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with air, the rhythm grounding in the tension-laden room. You mimicked him, the air rushing in and out, pushing away the chilling echoes that threatened to consume you. 

As Steve holds you, he falls asleep and silence fills the room. The clock is after midnight. The silence wrapped around you like a shroud, thick with unspoken fears and lingering echoes, but it felt different now. The shadows still danced ominously in the corners, but they seemed more distant, as if tethered by the warmth radiatingfrom where Steve sat beside you. The slow rise and fall of his breathing became a steady anchor against the chaos swirling in your heart and mind. 

You dared to close your eyes, but the weight of the shadows loomed just beneath your eyelids whispering promises of despair. The darkness pulsed, curling around you like a predator poised to strike.

Then, it was like a nightmare coming alive. You weren't in Steve house but on the gravel seeing flashing light of the car turned over on the road. There is pleading for help coming from a woman who's crawling. Your heart speeds up hearing the familiar voice of your mother.The gravel crunched beneath your feet as you stepped into the nightmarish scene, the acrid scent of smoke clawing at your throat. The world around you warped with familiarity, every detail sharp and vivid—the twisted metal, the shattered glass intensifying the colors surrounding you. Voices echoed, twisted cries slicing through the fog of memory, warping time and space. The world cast in shades of gray suddenly flickered, revealing a gory tapestry of your past.

“Help! Someone, please!” 

A familiar cry twisted through the air, piercing through the haze of confusion. Your heart dropped into your stomach as recognition cut through the nightmare. The sight before you felt almost too surreal, each detail as sharp and unforgiving as the glass shards scattered across the gravel. The memory flooded back—every agonizing second replaying in vivid clarity. You stood frozen, your feet anchored to the ground, awash in the horror of it all.

“Mom?”

As you approached, the flickering lights from the crumpled car illuminated her face—a ghost of your childhood, a visage you had memories etched into the deepest corners of your mind. But this was different; the memory twisted and distorted, trapped in the grip of Vecna's dark influence.

“Mom!” Panic surged through you as you reached the broken silhouette struggling against the wreckage.

"Help me" she pleads seeign you.You faltered, a surge of terror pulsing through you. “Mom, I’m here!” Each word felt shrill, shattering the quiet night as your heart raced. 

But the figure only stared, eyes wide with desperation, the horror of recognition etching itself deeper into your bones. The scene warped around you, shadows weaving through the air like ominous wisps, thickening as they curled against the world you once knew.

You took another hesitant step forward. “Mom!” The word slipped from your lips like a prayer, a plea that echoed through the night. With each step, the ground shifted beneath you, the gravel crunching like brittle bones underfoot, amplifying the chaos around you.

“Help me!” Her voice pierced the darkness, reverberating in your chest like a drumroll of dread. The shadows thickened, swirling around the crumpled wreckage, and you felt the very air constricting, heavy with sorrow and anguish. 

“Mom!” You stumbled forward, desperation clawing at your throat, each step echoing the panic crescendoing in your heart. The shadows wrapped tighter around you like coils of smoke, whispering doubts that gnawed at your sanity.

The twisted wreck of the car creaked in protest, each sound a reminder of the horror that echoed within the confines of memory. You reached out, fingertips brushing against the cool, jagged metal of the vehicle, trying to ground yourself as reality warped around you.

Dustin rubbed his eyes, squinting against the dim light of the room. He shuffled toward the kitchen, but noticed you standing still, your eyes wide and unblinking. 

“Y/N?” he called softly, but you didn’t answer him, the echoes of your mother’s cries drowning out the present. The shadowy figures danced at the edge of your vision, each whisper tightening their grip around your heart. 

“Y/N?” Dustin’s voice trembled, concern lacing through every syllable. He stepped closer, his feet shuffling across the floor as he tried to pierce through the haze enveloping you. 

You stood frozen, heart racing as the familiar figure of your mother began to fade in and out, both a balm and a blade to your heart. 

“Y/N?” Dustin's voice grew urgent, but the world around you twisted and distorted, each pulse of your fear echoing. Eddie’s footsteps thundered across the floor as he darted into the living room, urgency radiating from him like heat. “Y/N! What’s wrong?” His voice broke through the haze, a lifeline thrown amidst the rising tide ofchaos engulfing your senses. The shadows continued to writhe, clawing at the edges of your mind while your mother's cries echoed in your head, a chilling symphony of despair that drowned out.

" Her eyes! Vecna is trying to get her!" Max says in panic. Startled, Steve’s eyes shot open, his breath catching as he took in the scene unfolding before him. 

“Y/N!” He surged to his feet, the urgency in his voice cutting through the chilling fog that wrapped around you.

The figure transformed, twisting grotesquely, every memory tethered to your mother merging into something dark and sinister. The face morphed, features sliding like liquid shadows. What once wore the visage of your childhood hero now stretched into an eerily.

" Vecna?" you called his name out. The name tasted bitter on your tongue, a summons both desperate and defiant. 

“Yes, Y/N. Welcome ,” the figure crooned, its voice rippling with mock affection. The semblance of your mother twisted, her features bending and warping into something grotesquely familiar. “Help me,” it whispered, a twisted echo that sent chills racing down your spine.

“No!” Panic surged through you, raw and unrelenting. You felt the shadows wrapping tighter around your limbs, " your not my mother! She died!" The figure's laughter reverberated through the air, a cruel mockery that echoed in the darkness. "Did she?" The word dripped with malice, a twisted taunt that slithered past the barricades of your mind. " What do you want from me?!" “Feed on your despair,” Vecna hissed, the words curling around you like poisonous vines. “Let your grief awaken the darkness within.” The shadows shifted, swirling around you, blurring the lines between memory and nightmare.

“Get away from me!” You screamed, the raw force of your terror splintering the darkness, pushing back against the echoes of your mother’s voice. “You’re not real!” 

His hand wrapped around your throat pulling you up. A gasp escaped your lips as Vecna’s grip tightened, the pressure squeezing the breath from your chest. The room spun, reality warping around you like a malignant shadow. His face loomed closer, the once-familiar features twisting into a grotes que mask of malice and pain. Every heartbeat felt like a drum echoing the horror circling around you. The chilling emptiness behind his gaze reflected all your fears, the darkness pooling like poison in your veins.

You carry the weight of your pain with you, and I shall feast on it," Vecna whispered, the malignancy lacing his words echoing in your ears. It was an intimate threat, one that drew on the depths of your worst moments and twisted them into a weapon against your very soul. The shadows danced around you, a suffocating cocoon tightening around your chest, making each breath feel like a futile struggle.

“Y/N! Stay with us! Fight him!” Steve’s voice pierced through the chaos, a beacon of clarity amidst the suffocating darkness. 

Eddie and Dustin rummaged through the cluttered mess—old vinyl records, crumpled posters, and forgotten cassette tapes littering the floor like remnants of battles fought in better times.

“Where is it?” Dustin's voice grew frantic as he flipped through the mess, desperation creeping into his tone. “It has to be here! The one album that could break his hold!”

“Keep looking!” Eddie shouted, his fingers dancing across the clutter as he scrambled to find something—anything—that could tether you back.

" Harrington has bad taste in music" Eddie mumbles.

" Did you find it?" Robin asks joining them on the floor. “Not yet!” Dustin’s voice carried urgency, anxiety weaving through his words like a fraying thread. “It has to be here. We’re running out of time!”

" you're taking too much time, bozos" Eric says as she pushes Dustin away and looks herself. “Get back!” Dustin protested, but Eric shrugged off his frustration, her focus fixed on the task at hand. 

“I’ll find it! Just move!” The urgency in her voice sent a jolt through the cluttered room. As she dove headfirst into the heap, tossing aside albums and posters with wild abandon, her determination electrified the air. 

“Come on, come on!” Dustin grunted, shoving a stack of records aside, his fingers skimming over the familiar labels.

“Wait!” Eddie’s eyes widened, realization hitting him like a lightning bolt. “I think I left one in the van!” The words tumbled from his lips, an eruption of hope breaking through the haze of despair. 

"Go! We need it now!” Dustin barked, urgency threading through his tone.

“Right—stay here! I’ll be back!” Eddie bolted out the front door before anyone could protest, the sound of his footsteps fading down the walkway. 

Inside, Vecna talked about how pathetic your life is and mocking how Steve was a waste of time. “It’s amusing, really,” Vecna’s voice coiled through your mind, laced with a sinister glee that sent a shiver down your spine. “Here you are, surrounded by friends, yet so utterly alone. They cannot save you from the darkness that cradles your heart.”

“Shut up!” You felt the bile rising as you summoned every ounce of willpower, squaring your shoulders against the suffocating grip of dread. “You're not real—you’re nothing but a twisted figment of my past!”

“Ah, but your past is a mirror I wield,” Vecna hissed, his voice dripping with mockery as he leaned closer, his malevolent gaze boring into yours. “Every pain you’ve buried with mockery as he leaned closer, his malevolent gaze boring into yours. “Every pain you’ve buried is the key to your downfall. Feed me your memories, and I’ll show you how insignificant you truly are.” 

Steve's voice cut through the oppressive darkness, a luminous thread woven through shadows thick with despair. "Y/N!" he shouted, desperation lacing each syllable, piercing the veil of your panic. The contrast was stark—his voice a beacon, a lifeline anchored in the storm of dread that threatened to pull you under.

“Y/N! I love you!" The words erupted from his mouth with an urgency that stemmed from fear, shooting straight to the core of your despair. "I love you! I always have! I was too stupid to see it before, but I know now! You're not alone in this, I swear!"

The laughter echoed in your mind, a cruel symphony that warped Steve’s desperate confession into mockery. The shadows thickened around you, drowning out the light of his proclamation, shaping it into something dark and cruel. 

“Hear that?” Vecna sneered, his breath cold against your ear. “Even his love won’t save you. It only deepens your despair. All that remains is eventual loss—his love, your hope, and your very life.”

You could feel the darkness tightening its grip, the suffocating shadows wrapping around you like a vice. Each word Vecna uttered echoed through your mind, puncturing the feeble shield of hope that had begun to light the edges of your despair. The shadows skittered closer, chilling tendrils coaxing doubt into your heart like poison spreading through your veins. 

" Where is that album, Munson???! " Max shouts. Eddies comes in putting the cassette and putting headphones over your head while he steps back nibbling on his nails. The moment the headphones nestled around your ears, the world around you shifted. The pulsating shadows flickered for a brief second, the whisper of music lacing through your mind like sunlight breaking through clouds. Eddie's fingers trembled as he described the sound, coaxing a defiance from the depths of your being. “Just listen, Y/N! Breathe with it. Let the music wash over you!”

As the melody swept through the headphones, it felt like a lifeline thrown into turbulent waters, each note reaching deep into the recesses of your heart. The music surged through you like the first breath of fresh air after a long dive underwater, illuminating the shadows that loomed in the corners of your mind.

"Fight back!” Eddie shouts and starts to sing your favorite song joined by Dustin as he knows he words as everyone shouts the lyrics in hope to save you. The familiar chords thrummed through the headphones, a pulse that resonated in your core, cutting through the darkness strangling you. The voices of your friends rose, the lyrics woven with urgency and raw emotion. They flooded the space, the harmonies intertwining like threads of light piercing through the heavy gloom. Each note carried the weight of their support, reverberating against the warping shadows that threatened to consume you whole.

“Feel it, Y/N!” Dustin shouted, his voice a fierce." Feel it, Y/N!” Dustin shouted, determination etching every syllable with unwavering strength. “You’re not alone! We’re right here!”

The portal opens as you see your friends singing their hearts out. Vecna growls as he sees it and turns to you, just as you kick him hard as his grip loosens. You fall to the ground in fear as he stands up. The shadows surged and stretched, flickering with an unholy light as you scrambled backward, heart racing. Your hands dug into the gravel, frantic against the rough surface as you pushed yourself away from Vecna, the weight of dread still pressing down like a heavy stone. Each frantic beat of your heart echoed through the night, matching the relentless tempo of the music flooding your ears. 

You throw whatever you could at him, sliding in between his legs making your escape. 

"Please Y/N" your friends beg. Shadows lunged, tendrils reaching out like claws grasping for your ankles, but the pulsating rhythm of the music propelled you forward. 

“Keep running!” Steve’s voice broke through.

Each step felt harder, the shadows curling around your legs like creeping vines, but the power of your friends’ voices surged around you, wrapping you in warmth and determination.

as you charged forward, a wave of desperation fueling your every movement. Panic clawed at your insides, but the melody resonated through you, sparking the fire of resistance in your chest. 

“Y/N, keep going!” Dustin shouted.

From somewhere within the maelstrom, his voice a beacon in the dark. The rhythm of the music pulsed around you, each note forging an invisible path through the encroaching shadows. 

You pushed harder, your legs pumping as the darkness.

" Come back to me" Steve pleads. wove tighter around the edges of your vision, an oppressive fog that threatened to snuff out your spirit. The music surged within you, the familiar melody pushing back against the encroaching shadows as you fought for clarity, for freedom. 

Your body slowly goes down as your back to your friends, arm engulf you tight. An overwhelming flood of warmth wrapped around you, a cocoon of safety from the chaos that roiled just beyond the edges of consciousness. Your friends' voices resonated in the air, their harmonies intertwining to drown out the whispers of darkness that clung stubbornly to your thoughts. The weight of Vecna’s presence loomed, but the warmth of your friends reached out, pulling you back toward the light.

" Did I really hear Harrington confess his love too?" Eddie asks all of sudden. Laughter erupted, shattering the oppressive weight of fear for a moment, and you found strength within the absurdity of it all.

Was it true?" you asked Steve looking up at him. Steve’s eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and vulnerability etched across his face. The shadows that had engulfed you flickered, their grip momentarily loosened by the absurdity of your questions amidst the chaos.

“Yes,” he breathed, voice thick with emotion. “It’s true. I love you, Y/N. I always have.” 

You blinked, disbelief blending with a torrent of emotions. The shadows around you pulsed, the darkness wavering for a brief moment as if caught in the storm of your shared confessions.

" So it took me to get captured for you to tell me how you feel. Alright understood" The words hung in the air, laced with a mixture of irony and incredulity, but as your eyes locked with Steve's, everything felt charged with urgency.

" Well! Are you going to kiss her?" Robin asked,her voice breaking through the tension like a call to arms. Laughter rippled through the room, a buoy of levity amid the darkness that pressed in on all sides.

“Shut up, Robin!” Steve snapped, his cheeks flushing, eyes wide with embarrassment but glinting with amusement.

“Seriously? You’re on the verge of losing her to Vecna, and *that’s* what you focus on?” Eddie interjected, laughter lighting his features, injecting energy into the somber atmosphere. The absurdity hung between you like a thread, pulling the heaviness of the moment upward.

" Do I smell bad that your not going to kiss me?" you asked. A wry smile tugged at your lips, defiance mingling with the lingering dread swirling in the shadows. Steve blinked, his gaze locking onto yours as a flush of embarrassment raced across his cheeks.

"What?” he stammered, his cheeks flushing deeper, the vulnerability in his eyes opening a small chasm of warmth against the encroaching darkness. 

“Do you really think I’m just going to let Vecna win?” you shot back "I really want that kiss, I needed to win". you winked at him.Steve’s eyes widened as the tension shifted, color flooding his cheeks. The corners of his mouth twitched like they might form a smile, fighting against the shadows that still loomed. 

“Are you serious right now?” he asked, half-playful, half-breathless. But the light in your eyes sparked something within him—a determination melded with hope that pushed back against the tide of darkness. 

“I’ve never been more serious in my life,” you insisted, a flicker f defiance igniting in your chest. The shadows continued to dance at the edges of your vision, but the power of laughter filled the room, wrapping around you like a protective shield.

" If you won't kiss her, then I will " Eddie chimed in. The laughter erupted, breaking the oppressive weight of fear that filled the air. 

“Eddie, you’re not helping!” Steve shot him an incredulous look, but beneath it lay deep embarrassment mingled with something softer—understanding, perhaps.

" So Harrington, your going to leave me hanging or do I have to do it myself?" you asked. The atmosphere in the room shifted, thickening with tension as laughter blended into something electric. Steve's eyes widened, disbelief painting his features, grappling with the absurdity of the situation even amidst the swirling chaos that threatened to engulf you. 

“Wait, are you serious?” Steve stammered, stepping closer, his gaze locked onto yours with a mixture of urgency and disbelief. 

" You talk too much, Steve" Laughter rippled through the room, an unexpected balm against the weight of fear. Steve’s eyes brightened despite the chaos, and that flicker of hope ignited something deep within you.

“Alright, alright.” He raised his hands in amock surrender, but determination sparked in his eyes. “Just hold on for a sec, okay? I’m not letting you go. Not now, not ever.” He stepped closer, each heartbeat resonating with the gravity of his words. The shadows clung to the edges of your vision, but they felt less suffocating in this moment, swallowed by the brightness in his gaze.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice steady yet thick with uncertainty, “if we make it out of this…” His determination wavered, but the sincerity in his eyes shone through, illuminating the shadows that threatened to suffocate you. " I want you to know I’ve admired you for so long. You’re… you’re everything incredible.”

Eddie grew tired of this from Steve as he pushed him into you and Steve lips were inches from yours.The world around you seemed to suspend, time stretching taut as the distance closed between you. Steve’s eyes flickered with uncertainty, a silent question hanging in the air, heavy with hope and trepidation.

The world around you seemed to suspend, time stretching taut as the distance closed between you. 

With his lips merely inches from yours, everything faded into insignificance—the shadows, the darkness of Vecna’s taunts, even the pulsating fear that had gripped your heart just moments before. The world shrank to a single point where nothing mattered but the whispered promise contained in that fleeting moment. 

“Y/N,” Steve breathed softly, his voice barely above the thrum of the music, each syllable laced with vulnerability and an urgency that felt electric. The shadows receded slightly, as if honoring the connection between you. 

You stepped closer, feeling the warmth radiating from him, a lifeline amidst the chaos swirling around you.

"Oh get on with it, already " Erica threw her hands up in the air. As the laughter bubbled through the room like a lifeline, an unexpected surge of courage washed over you. You locked eyes with Steve, a fierce determination igniting within you. 

As you leaned toward him, your heart raced, a pulse of adrenaline mixing with the tender resolve that anchored you. Steve’s arms immediately encircled you, grounding you in the moment, even as the chaos threatened to consume it. 

"finally,” you breathed into the space between you, the weight of laughter and shadows falling away. 

His lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, but then the urgency of the moment ignited a fire between you. The kiss deepened, hearts racing in tandem as the world around you faded into a distant murmur.

" Finally he had some balls to do it" Erica says. The kiss consumed you, an electric jolt of warmth igniting the shadows that surrounded you. Each heartbeat echoed like a drum in your chest, threading through the chaos in a whirlwind of emotion.

As the kiss deepened, time warped and twisted, dissolving the barriers of the moment.

This was far from over. Vecna will be back but he can wait, as this moment was everything between the two of you.

Vecna had another thing coming.

[wasyago]

Your art is such a huge inspiration for me , i was wondering if you had any tips on anatomy ? Your way of doing it is so fluid and fun to look at and i struggle a lot with stiffness .

welp, long post incoming, sorry i really didn't want to write all of this on the canvas, so most of it will be in text + pictures

(also please keep in mind that this is not a 100% correct way to do this, but this is how i do it)

first, a little secret you need to know. none of my drawings are actually anatomically correct-- its more about proportions and lines of motion than it is about anatomy (since you said you struggle with stiffnes). now, of course anatomy is important, especially if you're going for something more realistic, but i'd say its not the first thing you should focus on. for me, anatomy is something i learn slowly and gradually as i go and as i need (and forget soon after).

i think proportions are in a way a lot more helpful than anatomy, because you can easily change them according to the character's needs and it'll still look believable. so like.

arms from wrist to elbow and from elbow to shoulder are roughly the same size, same with legs.

character's open palm is the same size as their face from chin to hairline.

the thickness of the neck depends not on the size of the head but the size of shoulders. so, if the shoulders are broad and muscular the neck will be too. if the shoulders are small then the neck will be thinner, etc.

when hands are pressed to the body, elbows are in line with the waist and the palm is roughly below the hips.

length of legs in relation to the body is directly responsible for how tall the character looks. if they're the same size - character looks average, if the legs are shorter than the body the character looks shorter, and if the legs are longer then the character looks taller.

and then for the face.... i literally forgot everything about face proportions uhhhh. well. the ears sit in the middle of the head and are in the same dimensions as the nose. the spaces from hairline to eyebrows to tip of the nose to chin are all the same size. mouth sits on 2/3 between the nose and the chin, leaving more space for the chin. eyes are the same size and the space between them is equal to the size of one eye. (this is much easier to explain in a drawing)

and then to make your character stand out and look unique you change some of the proportions. make their eyes bigger, ears smaller, arms longer or legs shorter. the difference between knowing the proportions and breaking them on purpose vs not following the proportions at all, is that when you know what you're breaking it looks intentional and it has a meaning and it makes sense to the viewer, instead of you breaking all the rules without knowing what they are. just remember to emphasize it enough for your style, because if you overdo or don't do enough it might look out of place. again, its all about balance.

and now for the lines of motion... i dont exactly know how to explain them, because there's not really a correct way to do them? but basically its a line that follows and sets the motion. yeah. its what makes the characters look less stiff. and its not exactly imaginary lines, but they're not simply visible either. its the lines that the silhouette of the character follows, the direction their limbs or elements of clothing create. you're basically creating those patterns that the pose follows, and you know us humans we sure love our patterns, so the brain subconsciously recognizes that there's a pattern and the image then feels more structured, more real in a sense?

i have no damn idea how to put it into words, but. um. diagonal lines are dynamic, straight lines (in relation to the canvas) are stiff. its like a square looks stiff but a rombos looks flowy even if they're basically the same thing. so to make your characters look more dynamic you need to build the pose on diagonals and not straight lines. and if you want the pose to look stable then you need to balance it out with lines of motion that go in an opposite direction. sort of like you put two rocks on the ends of a plank to balance it out instead of putting no rocks at all because the plank will balance on its own. it creates flavor and weight and intention, sort of like "this plank balances because of the rocks" instead of "the plank balances because there's nothing". sorry i get carried away with the metaphors--

you can use the stiff/dynamic thing however you want for whatever purpose you need. for example making the bottom of the character who is standing still be parallel to the canvas, but keeping their body diagonal and dynamic, helps to make the character feel stable and set in the drawing, like they're standing on firm ground. keeping a background or some element of the drawing stiff but making the character dynamic emphasizes the movement and focuses attention on the character. but making both the background and the character dynamic creates a fully dynamic composition and the feeling like everything is in motion. its an interesting balance but the more you draw the more you understand it.

hope this helps :D

[qalrey]

my fluttershy redesign x3

[frostleni]

Hurry... he has to go play mermaids

[beets]

#foreshadowing

[arttsuka]

Based on somewhat real events

I spent way too much time drawing this...

But yeah, Ford finally saying thank you

A continuation (kinda)

[volivolition]

with kisses like these, who needs magnesium?

[deoidesign]

Hello! I just discovered your blog and I immediately became captivated by your webcomic, but I'm unsure where to read all of it. I know it's on Webtoons, but I can see it hasn't been updated for a while, and you still post about it.

Are your physical novels just prints of the webcomic? Are they a continuation? Is the story complete? Thanks in advance!

Hi there!

Glad you found me and are enjoying my comic!

It's only on webtoons, and the story is not complete yet! We're 2/3 of the way through right now. It's currently on hiatus, and it's scheduled to come back in about 2 months!

I'll explain why it's been so long if you're curious, but also for my followers who might also be wondering about it under the cut. Sorry, it's pretty much just me complaining haha

I took a month off I took 2 months to get the books printed I took a month to prepare my next comic and I took 2 months to write the rest of the series (I knew the character arcs I wanted, but not the time periods or mysteries!!!) I've been working on actual episodes since then

I had to take some time off because of some pretty extreme burnout due to the sheer amount of work it was to draw over 800 pages and write 6 complete stories in a year and a half... I was getting sick almost weekly due to the overwork, it was really really bad honestly. I was having to work 60+ hours every week just to keep up...

The nature of the comic itself is also difficult... Each of the arcs is a complete, self contained story which can be read (ideally) without context, and my arcs need to be about 10-13 episodes each... And since I have an exact number of episodes to work with, it's even harder.

It takes a ton of planning and a ton of refinement, and working week to week with no breaks I was forced to put out second or even first drafts, so I just wasn't happy with the work I was doing... And to do that for the rest of the series? I wouldn't be proud of the work I did.

Plus... To be entirely honest, webtoon has treated me quite badly IN MY OPINION... They deprioritized me before I launched (I had to beg for more promotion, I'm not exaggerating), they outright denied me the opportunity to even ask for a raise, I don't make any money on fast pass and they pay me less than my partner makes working at trader joes. My first editor left me completely hanging, my second editor (who I loved) was fired... And they told me I wouldn't get a third season before my first season even finished. So it was just repeatedly completely demoralizing.

I'm sorry it has taken so long, it'll have been 10 months by the time I come back. But I realized... I won't get promotion either way. I won't get more episodes either way. I won't get more money either way. So to finish everything, to make it feel good, to make it something I'm proud of, I chose to take longer to make it better.

I am fully aware I will lose a significant amount of my readership for this and it might genuinely affect my career moving forward. But it's what I had to do! So I'm sticking to my guns on it, and I'm confident long term it'll be worth it. It never could have been this good if I didn't take this much time.

[quarks-pussy]

[Images description: Twelve pictures of Star Trek actors. The phrase "thank you for being both amazing actors and amazing people" is written across most of the images one word at a time, except for the two images in the middle. The middle images are of William Shatner, reading "not you!" and Robert Beltran, reading "or you for that matter". The actors in the other images are George Takei, René Auberjonois, DeForest Kelley, Gates McFadden, Wil Wheaton, Kate Mulgrew, Patrick Stewart, Siddig El Fadil (aka Alexander Siddig), Nichelle Nichols and Leonard Nimoy. End image description.]

Non exhaustive list of course. Many more such cases, in fact feel free to add

(insp)

[maxwelljacobfriedman]

undefined

Highlights of MJF and Cody’s unhinged relationship

[giftboxxworld]

Bive enjoyers here's your little snack

she may be crazy