#i know not all families work this way but we can play with ideals a bit here

[pancake-breakfast]

Between the bottle of Bride whiskey and the ticker tape and all, there's definitely a lot of wedding imagery going on near the end of Volume 10. But there's one other bit I'm not really seeing people mention.

Before Vash and Wolfwood head out to the infamous couch, Brad and crew take Miss Melanie and all the orphans onboard their ship to get them the hell out of there before the ark shows up. Presumably, Brad's not gonna just dump all these children in some random location in the desert when Knives is tooling around devastating population centers. I could be wrong since this is my first read-through, but I'm guessing he's at least going to try to take them to Home where they can integrate with the rest of the population.

Which will have the effect of uniting the group that's closest to family for Vash with the group that's closest to family for Wolfwood. The bond between the two has allowed the two groups to become one.

[auroralwriting]

your beauty never scared me

spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

you’re scared no one will ever love and understand you, but spencer always has.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: a bit of unrequited love, comfort/angst/fluff, negative self thought, spencer is always a sweetheart, reader has a darker aesthetic

Maybe it was the fact that you came from a broken family from a young age. No, you didn't have a bad childhood, but it wasn't ideal for a young girl growing up.

It could have been the bad high school relationships, full of boys who didn't understand how to treat a young woman. Stuck at their stupid baseball games or waiting for them to finish their video game, sitting alone on their bed waiting for them to finish.

The most likely cause for your fear of love was simply the fear that no one would ever truly understand you, and therefore, never be able to love you right.

If you looked deeper, though, much further past the surface level, deep into the core, you would've realized that Spencer Reid had been there all along.

When you first joined the BAU, Spencer Reid was a typical little nerd, the glasses he wore even fulfilling the stereotype. His rambles about anything and everything were endearing, and lead you to begin your friendship with the man after he told you the history of your favorite movies.

"...its distinctive style with his signature blend of dark humor and whimsy. His imaginative vision, influenced by German Expressionism, is evident in the film’s surreal sets and exaggerated character designs. Burton’s decision to cast Michael Keaton as the chaotic title character and his encouragement of Keaton’s improvisation contributed to the film’s memorable, unpredictable energy. The innovative special effects and makeup, along with the creative set design by Bo Welch, further showcased Burton's unique approach."

By the end of his rant, Spencer had expected you to have been completely focused on anything else, but your eyes were trained on him, a small sparkle flickering in them.

"Spence, how do you know do much about Beetlejuice? You haven't even seen it before." you'd chuckled.

"I think Tim Burton is an interesting director. Maybe we could, uh, see it together sometime? If you want, of course." Spencer awkwardly fiddled with his fingers, the suggestion of the two of you hanging out outside of the work settle rattling his nerves.

You had given him a big smile, beneath your dark clothes and makeup was a heart of white and gold, a truly captivating soul. "I'd love to, Spencer! I own it, so you can come over whenever."

"Whenever sounds good," Spencer paused, thinking about what he had just said. "I mean, Thursday?"

"Thursday it is, boy genius." That name was usually reserved for making fun of Spencer, but the way you said it actually made his heart flutter.

Spencer would've never guessed that the girl, clad in dark clothing, the complete opposite of his own aesthetic, would be interested in hanging out with him. Then, it happened. And it happened again, and again, until you became friends.

Your friendship with the doctor grew. As you got closer, Spencer began to identify your fears and your tells. You played with your hair when you were nervous, bit the skin of your fingernails when you were anxious, tapped your foot or bounced your leg when you were impatient. He began to understand you on a deeper level.

It began to be the same for you. You knew his likes, dislikes, fears and worries. You understood his struggles with his mother and father, how sometimes this job didn't feel like enough until he made a true difference in someone's life.

Spencer Reid and you had connected in nearly a cosmic level, and that began to scare you.

It was two and a half years after Spencer had met you when he realized he had been falling in love with you for nearly a year. His small crush had grown exponentially. After Haley Hotchner's death, you'd taken in Jack for several days while Hotch planned the funeral and began to clean the house from the murders. Jack had taken to you quickly; he'd gone as far as to call you his favorite aunt.

Seeing the level of compassion and helpfulness you had displayed for Hotch made Spencer begin to realize that your friendship was beginning to move to the next level for him.

He began to think of you night and day, wondering what you were doing, how you were doing, what your plans were. He wanted to be with you, to feel your skin, linger in your existence. It wasn't until JJ had explained to him that that feeling he felt was love that he began to understand that you were in no place for him to admit his feelings.

Spencer never meant to profile anyone unless he was working, but he found it hard to not with you. He noticed your lack of dating, how even when you had the chance, you evaded it. He noticed your disdain to the notion of true love, or love at first sight, or even soulmates. It didn't take him long to piece together that it wasn't a hatred of love, no, it was a fear of it. However, he could never understand the why of the fear.

Now, you and Spencer had met five years ago. You'd both physically changed in looks over the time, but your friendship only remained and grew passionately stronger.

After the death of Emily, and finding out she didn't really die, Spencer had you as his rock. You grieved together, to the point that for three weeks, you lived with Spencer in his apartment. After you'd left, Spencer realized that he couldn't live without you anymore.

Spencer and you sat on his couch, the cold September month made you crave an early Halloween movie. So, Spencer put on his own copy of Beetlejuice he bought a few years back. The soft glow of the lamp cast warm shadows across the room, and the faint scent of popcorn lingered in the air. You could hear the distant hum of the city outside, blending with the soft rustling of the movie’s soundtrack.

"I like Adam and Barbara," Spencer hummed as he watched the screen. "They make a really good couple."

You nodded, "I guess they do,"

Spencer's brows furrowed at your words. "You don't sound convinced."

"I don't know," You shrugged, sitting up and crossing your legs. "He's sort of controlling over her. It's just too much, she's a strong woman."

"You mean he's protective over her in the afterlife filled with dead people they didn't even knew existed?" Spencer raised a brow, turning to you. "I'm pretty sure that's relatively normal."

Turning your attention back to the screen, you replied, "I guess so,"

Spencer sighed, finally deciding to ask you the question he'd been avoiding for too many years now. "Why are you so scared of love?"

His question made you turn back to him, a confused look on your face. "What?"

"You're so pessimistic about it. You always avoid dating, talking about it, anything to even do with love." Spencer explained. "I'm just curious, why?"

"Because, there is no way love that strong exists." You concluded, folding your arms over your chest. "That's why it's all in the movies. It's fake for a reason."

Spencer nearly chuckled at your words, finding himself in disbelief. Sure, he didn't really believe in soulmates, but he definitely believed in love. "Sure love exists," Spencer said. "True love has to come from somewhere to be spoken about. It's why its so deeply rooted into art and literature. Plus, with the psychological evidence of--"

"Okay, okay," You put your hands up in mock surrender. "I believe you, Spence." You'd never cut off one of his rants before.

"This bothers you," Spencer noted, his arms mocking your previous stance as they folded over his chest. "Why does this bother you so much, what aren't you telling me?"

You let out a huff of air in reply, your defences kicking into full gear. "Why do you care so much?"

Spencer stuttered over his words, “Uh- because it clearly affects you! It’s not hard to notice your dislike of it, and I want to know.” Spencer defended. He could see it in your eyes, though. You were too good of a profiler to not know he was lying through his teeth.

“The real reason?” You sharply replied, hating that Spencer was lying.

“Because I’m in love with you,” Spencer’s voice was filled with desperation. “Here you are, constantly belittling the idea of love when that’s all I want to give to you, and I don’t understand why.”

His words cut you like a knife. You hadn’t expected him to say that, let alone feel it. It almost made you feel guilty. “No one has ever understood me, Spencer. I don’t want to settle for just anyone who will pretend for their whole life that they know me when deep down they will never be able to understand who I am, what I need.”

“You think I don’t?” Spencer challenged. He tried not to feel offended at your words, truly. Yet they hit him like a slap to the face. He felt like he understood you.

“Okay, prove it then.”

Spencer was ready for this, “Your least favorite cases involve those with divorced parents. Not because of the affect on their children, but the affect it takes on them. You hate to see when it hurts one of them, or both.” Spencer’s first claim was true, and it caught you off guard. “You hate anything with a pumpkin scent, however, you enjoy real pumpkins because of their look rather than their scent. You bite your lip, tap your foot, shake your leg, all when you feel negatively.”

“Anyone could profile that,” You weakly replied, feeling thrown off at Spencer’s careful acknowledgment of your little tells.

“Are you afraid of love because no one will ever understand you, or because you’re scared you’ll never find someone who will.” Spencer finished. He watched as your mouth opened and closed, the words not quite making it out. “I see you, I hear you. My favorite thing is when you tell me things about yourself, your day, your feelings. Any day without you is a bad day and any day with you is a good one.”

Spencer’s words left your heart beating faster in your chest as you began to realize this is what you were looking for all along, but your own fear that you would never find it blind sighted you to the truth. The truth that Spencer Walter Reid was in love with you.

Spencer often recalled his own struggles with relationships, remembering the long hours he spent studying while his peers socialized. With him being so much younger, he had no way to truly connect with them. The sense of isolation he felt growing up made him cherish the connections he built later in life, driving him to seek genuine understanding and affection. On the other hand, your own problems with family and bad relationships drove you to hold a near-resentful feeling to love. It made you feel like it was something you could never have. That was something Spencer was beginning to see from your perspective.

"Please," Spencer's voice was softer, more vulnerable as his eyes pleaded with you. "say something."

"I'm sorry," you breathed. For a moment, Spencer thought you were about to reject him, until he saw the glistening tears form in your eyes. "I-I should've known sooner."

Spencer nearly chuckled, "I didn't want to make it too obvious."

"Spencer?" you asked.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Why do you love me?"

Your question made his heart nearly crack at the raw fragility your tone held. All he wanted to do was to take you into his arms and sing you sweet nothings until you believed him, but right now that wasn't an option. "I love you because you're unapologetically you," Spencer's reply made you finally lock eyes with him. "You're so sweet and kind, you never try to hide the things you like and dislike. You're so bold and brave. You make me feel so alive, so wanted. Every moment with you is a reminder of how extraordinary it is to be around someone who radiates such genuine warmth and enthusiasm."

"You really love me?" Your voice felt meek in comparison to how your normal assertiveness and bravato sounded. Your heart felt three times bigger in your chest as a tear dared to slip down your cheek.

Before it could even leave your eye, Spencer brought his sleeve over his hand and soaked it up gently with the cuff. "I love you with every part of me."

"I think I want to love you, too." you admitted. It felt hard to say those words, to finally give into your darkest, most vulnerable desire of unwavering love.

"Even with your fears, you're beautiful." Spencer softly reached to graze your cheek. "This, your fears, nothing could ever scare me. I'll teach you to let me love you if I need to."

"That better be a promise," you slightly chuckled, holding your pinky out to the man.

Spencer smiled, locking his pinky with your own, "It's a promise."

As you held Spencer’s pinky in your own, a sense of peace settled over you. The weight of your fears began to lift, replaced by a tentative hope. "Maybe love isn’t as impossible for me as I thought," You whispered, reaching out to hold his hand. Spencer’s smile was both a promise and a comfort, signaling the beginning of a new chapter in your lives.

[vanillawurld]

༊*·˚A Glimpse

✧.* Request- Anonymous

"Fuck it write anything with like joost angst idk have it be like “glimpse of us by joji” type of vibe"

✧.* Pair - Joost Klein x Fem! Reader

✧.* Tags & Warnings - Angst, cheating, making out, kind of a hot moment(?), cussing.

✧.* Summary - Joost finally being able to talk to (Y/N), 'the one who got away', his 'lover' at a small house party but forgets he has his girl with him.

✧.* Extra- I love writing angst yall. The reader is implied to be Latina with a tanner/browner/darker complexion along with dark hair. I needed her to connect to something specificallyLOL

✧.* Word Count - 3,016

From the outside, Joost and his girlfriend, Andrea, appeared to be the happiest couple in the solar system. She is always treated like a princess by him. Takes her wherever she pleases, buys her whatever she wants, and treats her like she's the only girl in the world. They treat each other in a way that makes them seem like the ideal couple. All of that can only be seen from the outside from people who don't know Joost at all.

What really takes a turn is Joost's intentions. The intentions his friends are aware about and the fact that they know more about his relationship. They know the messed up reasoning on why Joost was with Andrea in the first place. They always implied to Joost about what he was doing was fucked, but Joost just pretended he didn't know what they were talking about. He was avoiding his pain and sadness with delusions and manipulations to himself.

The only reason Joost was with Andrea was because she resembled someone from his past that he couldn't let go of. She was like a carbon copy of a woman named (Y/N). (Y/N) was the woman who Joost was convinced he was going to marry. He wanted a life with her and actually envisioned himself having a family with her. He was a sucker for her. It was all perfect until his focus on work and music drifted him apart. He walked away from her and that was his biggest mistake ever.

When he realized (Y/N) was gone, Andrea entered his life. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. He was allured by her beauty. She had beautiful dark hair, soft skin that went along with gold, plush lips that complimented her brown lipliner, and a smile he could recognize from a mile away. All beautiful features, just like the ones (Y/N) had.

The day Joost introduced Andrea to his friends, the atmosphere got thick and uncomfortable. They all looked at each other and immediately got the same thought in their head. Some even thought Joost and (Y/N) got back together because of how similar Andrea and (Y/N) looked. When Joost got confronted about dating Andrea, Joost pretended like his friend was speaking gibberish and to never say Andrea was similar to his ex. They all knew Joost was living a lie.

Joost always lied to himself about Andrea, but deep down, he knew what he was doing. He knew why he got with her in the first place and he hated it. Andre treated him like he was royalty. She was hitting all the right spots for Joost, except for one particular spot; she wasn't her. Andrea wasn't (Y/N) and will never be. There would be moments he would look at Andrea in a mirror and for a split second, see (Y/N). Every time he would look into her eyes, he would see (Y/N). Joost hated the fact he was living a lie but he was already too deep into his internal mess. Andrea had already fallen for him, the way he fell for (Y/N).

Joost and his girl were invited to a house party hosted by his cousin's friends. It was just a regular party, with the typical items that involved parties. Booze, music, people. Joost went to purely have fun with his girl by his side. It had been a while since he went out to party. As soon as Joost walked in, everything he had to worry about was tossed out the window.

Joost was laughing up a storm with his friends. Drinking weak shots, and singing along to whatever Dutch songs they were playing. But they weren't just playing Dutch music, they were playing a whole genre of different types of music. American Western music like hip-hop, blues, r&B. Latin-American music like bachata, reggaeton, merengue. But for some reason, Joost felt like they were playing more Latin-American songs, the genre (Y/N) always loved to play. Joost always listened to different Latino genres with (Y/N) because she loved it. He didn't understand what they were saying in the songs, but he loved watching her sing them.

The intro key to a bachata song started playing, pulling Joost out of his thoughts and pulling him into nostalgia. He heard the creator of the song sing his notes and bring in more nostalgic emotions. It was one of the songs (Y/N) would always play. As the man sang the song, Joost swore he heard (Y/N)'s voice sing along. His heart's rate started slowly growing faster. He looked around to see if he could catch her but had no luck.

He heard the woman next to him break him away from his thoughts and 'search', "Babe, are you okay?" Joost looked to his right and saw Andrea casually looking at him. He gave her a nod and decided to take another shot. The alcohol in the shots were weak, but since Joost felt like he was slowly losing his mind, the shots felt like they were getting to him. He felt like he needed to splash his face to fully pull him away from his lingering thoughts.

He got up from his seat, "I- uh, have to go to the bathroom." He quickly walked away without even letting Andrea say a quick 'okay.' Part of him was hoping to see (Y/N) and was even looking around while he was walking towards the restroom. The other part of him prayed he didn't run into (Y/N) in fear of breaking down in front of her. In his head, he wanted her to see he was doing "better" so she could develop strong feelings and try to win him back. He was delusional.

When he made it to the bathroom, he splashed water on his face and looked at himself in the mirror. His blue ocean-like eyes stared right back at him, trying to send him a message. He kept still for a few seconds until he heard a muffled voice from outside, "(Y/N), where are you going?" his heart started to increase again. A small voice in his head prayed that someone said another name instead of hers. He turned to the door and prepared himself to walk back outside, praying to not bump into (Y/N) but hoping he does.

When he opened the door, he was immediately hit by (Y/N)'s signature scent. That made his heart go even faster. His brain told him to ignore it and go back to Andrea, but his heart, his poor desperate heart, told him to find her. His constant battles between his heart and brain, but at the end of the day, he always followed his heart.

The house was a two-bedroom home, so he had quite a few rooms to check. Some had people making out, some giving blow jobs, some crying over an ex. It was a lot. It was like his heart knew where she was since it was beating faster each door he approached. Finally, one of the last rooms contained the woman he secretly yearned for months, almost years. He peeked inside to see her sitting, legs crossed, on the phone, talking to someone. His heart and brain were still fighting. His brain kept telling him to close the door, leave her alone, and go back to his girlfriend, but his heart told him to talk to her. His heart always won.

He slowly opened the door, to reveal himself. (Y/N) looked up and froze. They both stared at each other, (Y/N) with wide eyes and Joost with desperate eyes. "I- uhh... I have to call you back," she said while putting down the phone.

(Y/N) took a deep breath and looked up. She wanted to cry, but didn't want to in front of Joost. She didn't want to show her weak side in front of a well known stranger. She looked back at Joost and gave him a weak smile. She hadn't seen his face in a while. She missed his handsome structure, blue eyes, stylish mustache she always loved.

Joost was on the verge of falling to his knees. He needed to leave but he didn't want to. He wanted to hear her voice again, but he knew if he did, he would fall back into her eternal love that he never wanted to leave. "I'm sorry, wrong room. I was looking for.. a friend," he weakly said.

As he turned around, he heard her voice, "You're lying." That was one thing (Y/N) was good at, looking through people. It was both a blessing and a curse. He turned back around and looked her back in the eyes.

"You're still good at detecting lies," He said. He watched as (Y/N) giggled at his comment. His heart smiled, he missed her little laughs.

"Hi," she said.

"Hey," he said back.

There was a moment of silence between them. They kept staring at each other, smiling. (Y/N) looked at the spot next to her and scooched over, patting the spot next to her, indicating him to sit next to her. He happily obliged, closing the door behind him, and sat next to her. There he finally smelled her scent, he missed her. They continued looking at each other in silence, until Joost broke the silence, "So, how have you been?"

"I've been good, been building my life back up," she replied. That made Joost want to ask her more, but didn't want to invade her privacy. "What about you? You got a girlfriend?" she jokingly asked, but Joost thought she was being serious.

"I... I don't" he lied and (Y/N) knew this.

She frowned at his answer, "Don't lie to me. You do have a girlfriend," she passive-aggressively said.

"Then why did you ask me if you knew?"

"I asked that as a joke... and to see if you were going to answer honestly,"

There was a hard silence between them before (Y/N) broke it, "Why did you lie?"

Joost looked her in the eyes and started tearing up, "Because I miss you." That was his heart talking. He knew what he was doing was wrong. Emotionally cheating on Andrea with the love of his life. He felt a bit of guilt but at the same time it felt right.

(Y/N) would be lying if she said she didn't miss him at all. (Y/N) yearned to be in Joost's arms again, but not if he was with another girl. It wasn't right to her or the other woman. "Honestly, I've miss you too," she said, making Joost light up, "But, it's wrong to miss you. You have a new life with another woman and I'm working on getting my life back together."

That made Joost eternally sigh. It's like his chances went back to an all-time low again. He wanted to tell her that he didn't want Andrea and that he wanted her, but he knew (Y/N) was going to clock him on doing that. He started tearing up. The tear build-up got too heavy for his eyes so they started rolling down his face. His emotions got the best of him. He started letting out tiny sobs because he couldn't keep them in.

(Y/N)'s heart started to feel extremely heavy. She hated seeing Joost cry and it was even worse seeing him cry and not being able to comfort him like she used to. She couldn't kiss his beautiful face, she couldn't kiss his lips, she couldn't hold him intimately, but she wanted to so badly. Sometimes a person's wants could be stronger than a person's inner morals.

"Hey, hey it's okay," she placed both hands on the sides of his face and looked at him with sad eyes. "Everything will be okay. Everything will go in place when the time is right, but right now the time doesn't seem right for us," she whispered.

"Yes, it does. The time is right for us, I can make it right for us. I'll leave Andrea for you because we belong together," Joost said with heavy tears running down his face. His emotions truly got the best of him. Joost felt his heart become even more sorrow-filled when he felt her touch. He melted in her hands.

(Y/N) shook her head at his statement, "That's not right, Joost. You can't break a girl's heart for another girl, that's never right." She started wiping his tears away with her fingers, "We will have our time again if the universe permits it. And when we have our time, I promise it'll be ten times better than before."

That made Joost cry even more, He didn't want time, he wanted her now. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I made a mistake leaving you. I'm so sorry," His eyes kept the tears coming.

"Don't apologize to me Joost, I'm very much over it. I don't hate you. I still love you, but just right now, it isn't-" (Y/N) was cut off by Joost hugging her. Their bodies close together like they used to be, made Joost sob. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his neck, making their touch feel closer. After a few minutes of Joost and (Y/N) holding each other, they pulled away to look at each other in the eyes. Joost's now blood-shot red eyes staring back at (Y/N) mesmerizing eyes.

"You've always been handsome to me," (Y/N) said, making Joost chuckle. He raised his hand to rest it on (Y/N)'s cheek. She closed her eyes and started melting in his touch, just like he did. She re-opened her eyes to see Joost watching her like she was a trophy. It was a bitter-sweet moment.

"You were always like a goddess to me," he replied. (Y/N) gave him a shy smile. This felt like a good moment for Joost to send his message to her heart and brain. He started closing the gap between them, making the moment more intimate.

(Y/N) watched Joost get closer, she started feeling guilty but felt like it was right. She wanted to say something, but her heart kept telling her to shut up. "Joost-" she was cut off by his lips. She started to eternally panic but quickly calmed down when she realized this was what she wanted all along. She closed her eyes and wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. They were finally feeling each other after a long time. It felt right, but wrong at the same time. They wanted this moment to last but knew it wouldn't.

It wasn't long before they used their tongues. From lips to lips, to tongue and lips. The moment was getting hot for them, their hands started to drop to each other's body. Joost was starting to feel her chest and her hips while (Y/N) started feeling the tent in his pants. They both started moaning from the sensation of their touch. They were touch starved for each other. The moment was ruined when Joost's phone started blowing up with text messages. Joost broke away and checked his phone to see Andrea's contact photo. (Y/N) peaked over and saw her contact name and felt her heart drop. Her contact name was "Princess" with a heart and bow emoji, the same contact name Joost had for (Y/N).

She realized what they did was a mistake. Joost was still a taken man and she had no right to ruin that. (Y/N) got up from her spot and started walking towards the door. "Wha- where are you going?" she heard Joost ask.

She shut her eyes and sighed deeply. She turned around to face him and started tearing up, "I'm sorry, but I think what was did was a mistake."

"How? It felt right for me,"

"Yes, for you, but is it right for Andrea? My friends have told me that she treats you like an absolute prince. This isn't fair for her. I'm sorry Joost but the time isn't right for us. I'm not going to sit here and make you feel good while that poor girl is asking people about your whereabouts. I won't do it," (Y/N) was starting to get angry and Joost sensed it. "You can try and make things right between us, but there's still going to be a girl out there with a broken heart because of you... I want you to go out there and tell her what you were doing with me in this room. If I find out that you didn't tell her, I will personally tell her myself because I don't want her to look stupid, telling people that you two are in love meanwhile you still love me," and with that, (Y/N) left the room.

Joost sat in silence and thought about what (Y/N) said. He knew she was right. It was better if he came clean than for her to find out by (Y/N). He stared at the wall in front of him and started imagining hundreds of scenarios of how the interaction between him and Andrea would go if he told her. A habit he always had when he had to make a hard decision. He fucked up badly and had to pay the price.

(Y/N) started speed walking down the stairs and through the hall. She was trying hard not to let her tears run down her face. She had mixed emotions about what happened and what she said to Joost. As she was walking, she made eye contact with a woman who looked exactly like her. It was Andrea. It was like time turned into slow-motion, they both stared at each other with different expressions. (Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows in guilt, while Andrea's confused expression turned to sadness. They both knew what happened without even needing to say words to each other.

˖◛. *. ⋆ Vanilla Speaks

is my writing good, be honest

im too lazy to check for grammar or spelling LOL

[lost-on-an-ocean-of-books]

Calling all fanfiction Readers it's time to have your say.

Hi Fanfiction Readers

My name is Tamsin and I am a PhD student, fellow lurker and fanfiction reader. I am conducting a study into the role that fanfiction plays in the lives of those fans who read fanfiction as part of their everyday lives. Does your search history include the tags related to found family, irondad or batbad for example, then I am interested in talking to you. If you would like to take part in discussions around these tags with a fellow reader and lurkers of these tags within A03 please message me. 

Taking part in this research is a chance for you to share your own experience of fanfiction and what it means to you, while also highlighting that lurkers do still have a voice and an important part to play within fandom research. 

Below the cut is more information about this study and what it involves. Please read this if you would like more information before getting in touch. If you are unable to take part please can you reblog this post or share it to anyone you feel might wish to take part. 

Why have I been chosen?

I have deliberately chosen lurkers within fanfiction communities as the messages they take from and their reasons for reading fanfiction are under researched. Although you may not be a lurker in all fandoms you are involved in, the fact that you are a lurker within any fanfiction spaces make you the ideal candidate from this exploration into lurkers and their relationships with fanfiction, fanfictions online spaces and fandom communities. 

I would also like to emphasise that I require all participants to be over the age of 18 to take part in this study. If you are under 18 please let me know now. 

What does taking part mean?

By agreeing to take part in this study you are agreeing to record a diary of your fanfiction use and reasons for this usage within a discord chat. There is no limit for entries and I ask that the minimum response is once every two weeks. However, this project is aiming to work around your life and commitments and if you do miss a couple of weeks do not panic. Just start sending entries or replying to prompts again when you are able to. If I have not heard from you in a month I will send a message which will read:

Hi. I hope you are doing well. I am just sending a message to check in and to double check if you wish to continue taking part in the study. If you are happy to still take part please send any form of response to this message. 

It is important to note that this response can be as limited as simply sending an emoji. If I do not receive a response after two weeks I will stop attempting to contact you. However this is not seen as a full withdrawal from the study and you are able to return at any time. I will also still use the discussions we have already had as part of my thesis. If you would like to withdraw fully from the study please let me or my supervisors know, with the process of how to do this explained below. 

These entries can take the form of voice notes, written responses and memes or tiktoks. Every two weeks I shall send a prompt to the chat that hosts the diary entries, these are intended to get you thinking about certain topics and do not have to be answered directly or even at all if the questions make you uncomfortable or touch on something you are unwilling to share. At the end of every month I will arrange a touch base interview (over google meet) which will last about an hour. This will be a chance to discuss anything that you find easier to discuss face to face, to review some of your diary entries and for me to answer any question you may have. While I will aim to have these interviews a month apart I do understand that life may get in the way. I am more than happy to be flexible and move interviews around or push them back/bring them forward depending on your schedules. 

[pearlywritings]

"Bring your kid to work" day

synopsis: but sometimes it's very much unplanned.

pairing and characters: Zhongli x fem!reader, Xiao. Your family name is Rex-Lapis. Childe plays part in it too.

tw: modern AU, University AU, established relationship, fluff

word count: 2.8k+ words

a/n: Also a part of my University modern AU with history professor Zhongli

The day started perfectly. Your older daughter was already at school with your permission to stay at her friend's house for a sleepover later, you had your day off, lounging in the living room with your son cuddling to you with his most favorite dragon shaped toy pressed between your bodies, listening to your husband walking around the bedroom, getting ready for the lectures at the University, being blessed with afternoon classes.

The day was perfect indeed. Until it absolutely isn't.

Sometimes you really want to kill your boss. It must be today that you are called to work to help with an emergency, that no one knows how to deal with except for you. And the fact that your boss does not consider any possibility of you having trouble with doing what's required, makes you fume harder.

"Li, I don't know what to do!" You cry in frustration, buttoning your shirt. "We can't find a babysitter in ten minutes! You have to go to work, I have to now too, we can't just ask Ganyu to cancel her plans, she's been waiting for this sleepover for weeks, and I can't take Xiao with me - by the sound of it I won't have a single moment to look after him."

It's been no longer than five minutes since you received that call, but you are already as stressed as after a week of non-stop work. Why must've the stars aligned this way!?

Your husband - bless his soul - is fully dressed and is holding your little son perched on his arm, supporting his back with a hand, watching your frantic movements with sympathy.

"I don't think I'll have many spare moments either, my love. Only breaks between lessons. Let me think," the man hums, leaning Xiao’s body more onto his shoulder and reaching for his phone with a free hand. The boy wraps arms around his neck, watching you brush your hair with a pout. The plan was to spend the whole day together with mama, watching cartoons, playing, maybe going for a walk or, ideally, taking a nap, finishing it all with making dinner and welcoming papa home. Now, it seems to him, all these plans are thrown out of the window.

However, Xiao was always a very perceptive and patient kid - he sensed somehow when the situation couldn’t be helped and him throwing a fit - not like he would - would only cause more trouble. That is why he is quietly waiting for what comes next.

And finally Zhongli finds a solution.

“I’m calling Ajax. He mostly spends time at the teacher’s lounge. As far as I know he really loves kids and has several younger siblings, he should be able to handle our son. And during breaks I’ll be taking over” “Oh,” as good as it all sounds, there is an instant hesitation in your mind. “‘Li, you sure you can ask him that? It’s a big deal after all…” “I know, dear, I know. That’s why I am calling him now in advance to make sure it’s alright,” your husband dials the number of his department’s secretary and puts the phone to the ear. “I don’t even mind paying him if he agrees.”

In reality you had nothing to worry about. The gingerhead was more than willing to watch your five-year old son. Maybe willing isn’t the right word even - the young man is excited.

Zhongli is lucky to arrive before the current class ends - the less attention is drawn, the better. He collected everything he could think of to occupy Xiao during his time at the lounge in a bag, which he passes to Ajax the moment his son and him are introduced. However while the secretary is wearing a wide and kind smile, the boy is glaring up at him from under the brown bangs, boring his strikingly golden eyes in the tall figure.

“Dad, I don’t like him,” the little boy pouts, hugging his plushie even tighter and throwing daggers at the gingerhead from behind the dragon’s mane.

“Ouch, little guy,” with a dramatic gasp, the young man clutches the shirt on his chest and presses the back of his hand to the forehead. “How will I live? Hated by Mr Rex-Lapis’ son…”

“Now, now, Xiao,” Zhongli gently pats his head, bending down to look into his eyes and finding displeasure there. “It’s only for today, baby. Me and mom are really sorry for not spending time with you today. I promise that soon I’ll be home for two whole weeks.”

To that the boy’s eyes widen.

“Two weeks… That’s fourteen days?”

“That’s right, sweety.”

“That’s a lot!” He jumps, elated by the news, no trace of dissatisfaction written over his cute smiling face.

“Haha, it is, dear.”

“Wow, Mr Rex-Lapis, your son is really smart!” The secretary stopped playing hurt, instead clapping his hands together in praise and nodding his head in approval. “How old is he?”

“He is five. Yes, he learns really fast.”

“No wonder, he has you and your wife as parents.”

The remaining 20 minutes before his first lecture Zhongli spends in attempts to make his son comfortable not only around Ajax, but also at the new place as well. All that time Xiao doesn’t let go of his ever-present companion - a toy dragon, which he is hugging close to his chest. He politely greets every professor that comes to the lounge, which makes the secretary’s jaw drop since he is the only one who’s been initially rejected and, Zhongli can swear, he saw his boy smirking in the toy’s fluffy mane.

Other professors can’t help but mention how much the son resembles the father, even making small talk with the boy, whom they’ve only heard about before or seen in the framed picture of your family on Zhongli’s desk. By how polite (sorry, Ajax) and shyly sweet he is Xiao quickly becomes everyone’s favorite, pockets currently full with all kinds of treats.

When it’s time to go, the man kisses Xiao’s forehead goodbye, promising to be back in an hour and a half for a break, and grabs the materials. Once he leaves alongside his colleagues, Xiao sighs and, ignoring his temporary caretaker, moves to the bag his dad left, starting to dig out all the candies to put them into its side pocket.

“Whatcha doin’, little guy?” The young man is at his side in two long strides, curiously watching the boy’s actions. Xiao gives him a side eye, before deeming the question plausible and turning back to his task.

“I don’t want them right now. I’ll bring them home and share with mom and dad.”

“I am sure they’ll like that,” Ajax hums, busying himself with the contents of the main section. “Oh, would you look at that! It seems that your dad packed some coloring books, toys and… oh, puzzles! You like puzzles?”

The boy quietly nods. Tiptoeing, he tries to see the two boxes his temporary caretaker is holding, and the young man immediately crouches down to let him look.

“This one is new,” Xiao finally points to the box in his left hand. Ocean blue eyes skim over the picture of a phoenix, drawn in a simple yet elegant style. Yes, that definitely looks like something Mr Rex-Lapis would’ve bought for his child’s entertainment.

“Alright, let's get you behind your dad's desk,” golden eyes sparkle and a glimpse of wonder appears on the boy’s face. Dad showed him his own space at the lounge; it's tidy and organized, with all the necessities sorted inside the drawers and some notes and pictures pinned to the corkboard on the wall to the left. He wants to see them closer!

His caretaker drags the chair back, but climbing on it Xiao performs himself. As Ajax is humming something while tearing off the tape on the puzzle box, the boy turns to look at the photos Mr Rex-Lapis has on display. It’s so funny, really - not so long ago this little fella’s father was an image of reserve to students, no one knew who his wife was or the fact he had two kids. The secretary remembers how just half a year ago he used to be among those only ones who knew of the professor’s secret (which, in reality, wasn’t a secret at all). Why hasn't he ever spilled any info to the students who adore him?

Well, what fun would’ve been in it?

“Is that your big sister?” Xiao quickly glances up, taking notice of how the tall (but not as tall as dad) man hovers over where he is sitting and points at one of the pictures. The boy looks at it again.

“...yes. It’s Ganyu.”

“I have a sister too,” the fond expression on that freckle-covered face and a seemingly lightened color of those ocean-blue eyes disarms the five-year old a little. He blinks, waiting for what more he can tell. “Not one actually. Oh, and I have brothers too. One is your age, by the way!”

“Doesn’t it get too… loud?” Small hands reach for the carton box, lifting the lid.

“It does, in a good way though. But when our two huskies join in on the fun… Let’s just say it’s a good thing we have our own house.”

“You have dogs? That’s so cool! I want to have a pet too,” Xiao unceremoniously empties the contents onto the table, yet carefully places the lid with the picture against the monitor of the computer. “Mom promised that when I get older, they’ll buy me a bird.”

“Oh? You love those?”

“Mhm… Maybe we’ll buy something as pretty as…” he pauses, looking at the fiery bird. Ajax quickly realizes the struggle.

“A fo-nuhks,” Xiao prompts.

“Yeah… A fee-niks.”

As the minutes tick by, the boy’s initial hostility seems to evaporate. He still doesn’t talk unnecessarily much, but he does talk to Ajax, so that's progress. He is quite quick to finish the puzzles, and his temporary caretaker makes sure to praise the child. They talk a bit more about their respective families, Xiao even introduces him to his dragon companion. And the gingerhead picks the small fox-shaped keychain his elder sister knitted for him to play toy pals.

For another half an hour it manages to entertain the boy, but as the end of the class is nearing, he grows more and more distracted, glancing either at the door or the clock hanging high on the wall. It’s not hard to guess he is missing his father and is anticipating his return, but both Zhongli and Ajax can do nothing to just speed the time.

What professor can do though, is excusing his class ten minutes earlier, quite happy they got to get through all the material he prepared for this lecture. Bidding the students goodbye, he locks the door of the auditorium with his suitcase inside and puts the key in the pocket of his fancy vest to come back in twenty minutes.

When Zhongli enters the teacher’s lounge, he finds the secretary showing his son something on his own laptop. However, once Xiao’s eyes spot his dad’s figure in the doorframe, the little guy is down from his chair and running all the way to the man.

“Dad!” Mr Rex-Lapis barely has time to close the door and scoot down to catch his son, who nearly bumps into his legs, threatening the man’s balance. Finally in his arms, with his own tiny ones tightly wrapped around strong neck, the carbon copy of Zhongli happily smiles and Ajax has to rub his eyes to make sure he is not hallucinating. Wow, this boy can smile like that (sorry, my guy, you are just not his favorite, though now tolerable at least).

“Hello, Xiao,” Zhongli plants an affectionate kiss on his son’s cheek. “I see you’ve missed me,” the words are answered with eager nods. “Did you have fun with Ajax?” At least some of it.

The gingerhead lifts his eyebrow when the boy looks back at him, holds the gaze of ocean blue eyes for a moment, and then turns to his father once more.

“I suppose.”

The older man has to clear his throat with a polite cough so as not to break into a smile at the image of the assistant's slack jaw.

“That’s good, my dear.”

“Are we coming home now?” His son wonders, fingers playing with the longer locks of dark brown. Unfortunately, the answer is a dejected sigh.

“I am afraid we are not yet, sweety. But mommy texted me recently that she’ll be able to come get you after my second lecture. And then I’ll have one more.”

At the promise of you soon arriving to take him home, Xiao’s just building pout quickly disappeared. It’s okay, he can wait for a little bit longer. And that fox-like man isn’t bad, his company is quite nice. He even showed him some pictures of his family - almost all of them are ginger. Oh, and he promised to download some simple games onto his dad’s computer so he could play. And he still has his coloring books back there and he believes he saw you packing a small book - there is plenty to entertain him with.

Only for all these thoughts and motivation to be shuttered when someone knocked on the door and a second later some student’s head pushed through the gap. None of the three people currently present in the room could’ve anticipated what a black hole is about to be opened.

“Good afternoon, is Mr Rex-La- Oh, professor, you are here! We were wondering if we could take the key to leave our bags inside? As always? Oh, hey kiddo- Wait, a kid???”

“Dad, who is it?”

“DAD!?”

Before anyone could do anything, loud gasps break their way into the lounge. It appeared that almost the whole group was standing in the hall and heard everything crystally clear. Of course students are curious. Of course, they know about professor Rex-Lapis’ kid - the news and that cute picture from an online lecture were still the talk of the whole faculty just a couple of months ago. Of course, they want to see those sweet cheeks for crying out loud!

Ajax is the one who has to get everyone who does not belong in the room out and calm them all down as more than a dozen youngsters beg and plead with Zhongli to bring his baby boy to the lecture. And the said baby boy doesn’t help the situation either, looking at his father with those striking eyes, silently asking to stay with him. “I’m gonna sit very-very quiet,” he even promises.

Is it really a surprise that Xiao ends up sitting at his dad’s desk with his coloring books while the man is reading a lecture? (Students almost crumbled when their tall, handsome, enigmatic history professor walked into the auditorium with his son’s tiny hand clasped in his? Look, he even had to bend his body a little to do so!)

And, as much as students want to gush all over their favorite professor’s small-sized carbon copy, they keep their best behavior, because the situation gives the “once in a century” vibes and they’d be damned to destroy the magic of the moment.

Well, maybe a little, because the smallest interactions between Zhongli and his son as the man lets his students finish writing down information from the current slide are mind-blowing. Groupchat-blowing too.

Even cuter the whole occurrence becomes when the boy stops drawing and lifts his head, curious of what his dad is speaking about. He turns slightly in order to see the presentation, golden eyes skimming over the pictures and words, though he does not understand most of it. But it’s alright though - he can listen to his father instead.

Zhongli is pleasantly surprised when no one can answer one of his revision questions and Xiao lifts his hand, giving him the answer he wanted (he misspells the word a little, sure, but he knew the right response nonetheless). Aaaand that’s probably when the students finally lose it.

By the time the lesson is over and Zhongli meets with you in the teacher’s lounge to pass your very happy and very proud son to you so you two could be on your merry way home, the man feels a little drained. Nothing that can’t be fixed by your tender cheek kiss and soft rubbing on his back, but he still exhales heavily and swears that when he comes home, you are in for a new story.

And by what Ajax had time to tell while you’ve been waiting, you're sure it’s going to be a hilarious one.

taglist: @meimeimeirin Cause I remember how you once said you'd love to see more of this AU

[transform4u]

I just want to listen to music, but the only song on my phone is "traditionalfather.mp3". Is this some kind of virus?

You pop your headphones into your phone with a satisfying snapppp—a sound like a promise of sonic adventure. The familiar connection is made, and you swipe open Spotify, eager to dive into your music library. But as you scroll through your playlists, a perplexing situation unfolds: the only track available is ominously titled “traditionalfather.mp3.” Your curiosity is piqued. What could this mysterious file hold?

You hit play, and the initial burst of static is like a digital storm—crackling, buzzing, and threatening to drown out any semblance of melody. You’re about to pull the plug when, through the static haze, a clear voice begins to emerge. It’s a voice that commands attention, soothing and authoritative. Scripture starts to flow from the speakers, each verse imbued with a quiet, powerful resonance.

The static gradually fades into a structured podcast, shifting from the sacred words of scripture to a more grounded conversation. The host speaks with conviction:

“Welcome to our podcast on traditional Christian family values. Today, we’re exploring the importance of instilling respect, love, and faith within our families. It’s crucial that we embody these values ourselves—children learn not just from what we say, but from what we do. Our actions should reflect our commitment to these principles, creating a nurturing environment where faith and values can thrive…”

As you listen, something incredible begins to happen. You start to feel a tingling sensation as if the podcast’s message is manifesting itself physically. You grow taller, your height stretching in a way that feels both natural and empowering. Your clothes, once casual and relaxed, gradually shift into more conservative attire—each piece becoming more fitted and refined, mirroring your evolving sense of purpose.

Your body undergoes a dramatic transformation. Muscles begin to swell and firm up, each muscle expanding with a newfound vigor. Your biceps swell with solid strength, your chest broadens into a powerful shield, and your abs tighten into a defined six-pack. The fat that once clung to your frame evaporates, replaced by lean, sculpted muscle. Each muscle’s expansion is accompanied by a rush of energy, transforming you into a picture of strength and capability.

The heat in your body intensifies, radiating like an internal furnace. It’s not uncomfortable but invigorating, filling you with a potent sense of vitality. As the transformation continues, your skin develops a rich, golden tan, enhancing your muscular definition and overall presence.

With these physical changes come a surge in your work ethic. The drive to embody traditional Christian values translates into a newfound determination and discipline. You feel a powerful connection to the ideals you’re embracing, ready to lead with both strength and purpose. You hear the breathy moans from the beautiful woman next to you, her voice dripping with desire. "Oh, Michael. Let's make another kid," she whispers, her eyes locked on yours with primal lust. You feel a rush of hetroseuxality coursing through your veins as you gaze at her, your cross necklace sliding against your chest. All thoughts of ethics and morality fade away, replaced only by the overwhelming urge to claim your wife as your own.

You run your hands over her curves, feeling the soft fabric of her lacy bra and panties. She's your property, your possession, and you intend to use her for your pleasure. You flip her onto her back, pinning her wrists above her head as you hover over her. She looks up at you with a mix of fear and excitement, knowing that she's at your mercy.

"Daddy's going to breed you now," you growl, your voice low and commanding. She whimpers in response, her body trembling with anticipation. You rip off her flimsy undergarments, exposing her most intimate areas to your hungry gaze. She's wet and ready for you, her body aching to be filled by your manhood.

Without warning, you thrust into her, burying yourself to the hilt in her tight, wet heat. She cries out in pleasure, her walls clenching around you as you begin to move. You set a brutal pace, pounding into her with animalistic fervor. She's just a vessel for your seed, a receptacle for your pleasure.

"Take it, you little slut," you snarl, your hips slamming against hers with each powerful thrust. She moans and writhes beneath you, lost in a haze of ecstasy. You feel like a king, a conqueror, as you use your wife for your own gratification. This is what it means to be a man, to take what you want without hesitation or remorse.

As you near your climax, you flip her over, forcing her onto her hands and knees. You mount her from behind like a beast in heat, grunting and growling as you rut into her. She pushes back against you, desperate for your seed, craving the feeling of being bred like an animal.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum," you groan, your balls tightening as your orgasm approaches. With a final, brutal thrust, you bury yourself deep inside her, flooding her womb with your potent seed. She screams in ecstasy, her body shaking with the force of her own climax. You collapse on top of her, both of you panting and sweating in the aftermath of your primal coupling.

You feel a sense of satisfaction, of power, as you lie there with your wife. You've claimed her, marked her, made her yours in the most primal way possible. This is what it means to be a man, to take what you want and to use it for your own pleasure. And you'll do it again and again, until she's swollen with your child, a living testament to your virility and dominance.

[toocabaret]

I’ve been having some Thoughts™️ about the weird meta paradox of gerri kellman’s sexuality. as basically The Older Woman on the executive floor she’s trying as much as is possible to blend in with her male colleagues while also not being perceived to be doing so. muted colours and understated makeup. a competent filing cabinet. her husband is dead and her daughters are nameless. she was sexual once but that’s out of sight out of mind and now it’s just the work. it must be a relief in some ways to become finally unfuckable because you’re over 40. she can finally be taken seriously, but only if she toes the line between being too female and not female enough. trying but not too hard. desirable in the past tense only. an honorary man but still in a skirt. and while the men around her can fuck their much younger assistants and get sports massages and run a sex trafficking ring on a cruise ship, she is the job and only the job and that keeps her safe. for a bit anyway.

the irony of gerri saving the company from the full legal extent of a sex scandal by dating someone from the DOJ??? like i’ll never be over it. even filing cabinets have to flatter and please and fuck when called upon. i genuinely don’t believe any of the other execs could have swung it because they’re not women. she dated laurie (generally unseen unless framed from another man’s possessive perspective) to save the men from going to jail for covering up rape allegations. the irony is delicious. and even though she did that, she’s discarded once she’s framed sexually. Dick Pic Gate was out of her control and yet when confronted with any element of gerri’s sexuality (even her PASSIVE sexuality, even after using it to save his company), logan dismisses her as weak or impractical or failing or whatever other excuse he uses to justify his disgust.

i would argue that roman’s interest in gerri is not in spite of but BECAUSE of her asexual framing. it’s a challenge that he’s never going to win which is ideal for his impotency issues; he can push and push and get the thrill out of it, out of the fucked up power dynamic, but he knows he’ll never have to actually fuck her. it’s all hypothetical: down a phone, through a door, half-joking, covered in sensible skirt suits. gerri’s deliberate lack of sexualizing is counterintuitively a turn-on for roman. and i bet the game of chicken they play is freeing for her too because the fact that she has to be professional and cannot be sensual is part of the fun of it. “roman is weird about gerri”. “it’s fucking disgusting”. not because of their family history, or their professional positions, but because she’s old. because the absence of her sexuality is enough of a presence to be off-putting. shiv patronising her about it as a power play is so weird because she’s talking to her simultaneously like a child and like an old woman, and gerri, agency-less, just has to keep reassuring her “i can cope”.

BUT it’s worse than that because it’s so meta. Because gerri is hot. her actor is attractive and like roman, many people watching find her sexless, no-nonsense framing to be titillating. me included. what if roman likes gerri not because of oedipal issues but just because she’s hot and god forbid we find a woman over 50 hot? but whether or not gerri is hot in the context of the show shouldn’t be a big deal, she should have been able to escape this by now!!! she’s in her 60s she’s a widow she’s tired stop sexualizing her!!! but don’t NOT sexualize her either because that’s problematic too and old women can be hot and old women shouldn’t have to be hot and suddenly i’m making gerri do what waystar does and exist as something sexual and non-sexual at the same time. she has a huge plotline in which she’s essentially a sex object. whether or not gerri is fuckable is talked about as much in the show with mildly-disgusted fascination as it is in the real world!!! she can’t win she’s hot she’s old she’s sexually framed she’s deliberately trying not to be she wants sex she doesn’t want sex she’s covering sex with sex and she’s telling roman to leave her alone so she can just do her damn job because she knows that this is what will bring her down!!! sex scandals historically don’t get men fired but an unsolicited dick pic knocks gerri off her podium in logan’s head forever. even now i’m talking about it at such length because i’ve given it so much thought!!! she’s the only woman in the old guard and she’s one of the most sexualized characters in succession. but only as a joke. in the abstract. never actually. because that would be weird. right?

[ellaa-writes]

Do you mind making a fanfic where König slowly falls in love with the reader that's the team medic. And can it be smut towards the end that's more vanilla than rough?

Hiii! Thank you for the request. Also sent back in November. I always get carried away with these. CW; alcohol consumption but over all its very tame and a little fluffy :)

Working for Kortac wasn't always easy but it sure was awarding. Being the team medic/doctor had its perks. You mostly worked on base, or different outposts. You rarely experienced field work, but you weren't completely useless. The rest of the team wouldn't allow it, specially the Colonel.

You train with them, eat with them, shower with them, cause you are one of them.

As well as going out after a successful mission, when everyone is preparing for there leave. A nice hooray before a break.

You've been with Kortac for little over a year now, you made friendships with almost everyone. The Lifesaver they call you, out of respect and also taking the piss. Getting a nickname meant you were really family.

You don't talk about your personal life, no one does and no one asks questions. But it's not like you want to talk about your failures and joining the military was you lose ditch effort to pursue your dreams. Working in the hospital wasn't ideal anymore, the mundane day after day was draining you. And your tremors destroyed your opportunity to your goal as a board certified surgeon.

Wearing your civvy clothes, nothing special. Your favorite pair of jeans, a simple top and chunky boots. It's a tad chilly so you threw a warm leather jacket over it to tie it all in. Taking a cab with Roze to the local bar. Chatting about plans and wants. Roze using her leave to go climb a mountain. Telling her you wish you had her ambition and discipline. And her telling you that she could teach you some time.

The cab stopped in front of the bar, a fairly busy night. A small group of people were gathered around chatting and smoking cigarettes. Some of them you recognize as your teammates, and the Colonel. He made you dizzy, every time your eyes find him every cell in your body buzzes. Like flies to a street lamp.

Like a million butterflies in your tummy, beating against the inside tying to break out. You waving back to the ones that waved to you, making your way into the bustling bar. Leading the way to the bar, Roze close behind.

"We should find a both, I'm not being stuck at a fucking table." Roze gritted into your ear, remembering the last time you two went out with the boys. "Go find one I'll order our drinks. The usual?" you offered. She gave you a big smile and squeeze to your upper arm. "You are a doll, do you know that?" she yelled as she made her way through the crowd.

You finally flagged down the busy bartender, ordering Roze her vodka soda and your old fashion. Looking out into the crowd trying to find the others. Spotting them at a big booth in the back, a big screen rght above playing some sort of football game.

With a loud clink the bartender dropped the drinks in front, snatching the change out of your hand before turning away to help another. Carefully making your way through the crowd to the others, watching has Roze and Hutch lively convo. Setting the drink down before sliding it over to Roze who mouthed a silent thank you to you.

You slid into the other end of the both the faced out towards the bar, right up to a very tired looking Oni who looked unintereseted in whatever Horangi was saying. "What's up cool cat." he cooed to you, his big arm snaking around to give you a tight hug. "Getting drunk." you cheered raising your drink, the two cheering in agreement as they clinked their glass against eachother.

"Room for one more?" his thick deep accent purred for behind you. Colonel König sliding in beside you, taking up the rest of the both. Causing you to shift over to Oni to your right. "You smell like shit." Horangi exclaimed, raising his glass towards König. Causing the giant to bark with laughter, raising his pint towards the Korean. Causing some to slosh to the side and drip in front of you.

Indistinctively making you jump back to not get any of the stinky lager to get on you. "Sorry about the doll." his rumbling voice reached your ears. Making you blush and say "It's all good sir." taking a big gulp of your drink. Shrinking back as the others talked, stopping once in a while to include you.

König's leg brushing up against yours every now and than. If you were any the wiser you'd think he was doing it on purpose. Downing the last of your drink you plopped it on the solid table with a clank. König eyeing the empty glass while he finished his own. Kindly taking it with him as he went to get another fill.

Roze gave you an odd look from across the table, you just shrugged it off. She's been trying to convince you that the Austrian has been pinning for you. You brush it off as him being kind, but he's never that kind. Small things like bringing you things he found that reminded you of him. Small like trinkets and tchotchkes, either hand delivering them himself or leaving at your door.

Always being the first on the team, even before the muscle. Having first pick over any new recruits, a small luxury. Like you said, he's just kind. And very straight forward and to the point. A confident and cocky man, that knows what he wants and always gets it. And it's definitely not you.

It wasn't long until the Colonel returned with his drink and yours, setting down a colorful fruity drink in front of you. Causing a laugh from the others, but you just blinked at it. "I think this is yours." as you shifted it across the table to Hutch. Who gladly took the free drink cause booze is booze baby. "Aw Koni pal, you shouldn't have." he nearly had it to his lips before König thick hand grabbing Hutch's wrist, giving it a light squeeze before saying "It's not yours." in his husky accent. Bringing it back to you, holding it out. "Do you not like?" he asked curiously.

You weren't sure what was happening, was this some joke that you just didn't understand. "No." you said flatly, eyeing Roze for some help but she just eagerly gulped down her own ignoring you. "Can you excuse me." as you brushed passed the giant now looking at the drink in confusion.

Going to the bar you ordered two shots of the strongest liquor they had. Taking them down like a champ you asked for another old fashion. Feeling a warm hard body brush up next to you, seeing the Colonel standing beside you with that stupid drink still in his hand.

"I'm sorry Katze, I thought you would like." he started to explain. The bartender interrupting to give you your whiskey, taking a quick sip before König moved the drink so it was next to you. "It reminds me of you, that's all." he finished. You snorted into your glass and nearly choked on the smooth amber. Huffing out a coughing laugh.

"I'm sorry sir, but how does that remind you of me?" you giggled, finally feeling the alcohol settle into your worn bones.

"It's colorful like you." he said confidently and also confused at how you dont see it. "I'm colorful?" you asked, taking the drink from his hand. Your fingers lightly brushing against his, bringing the liquid to your nose before downing the whole thing in one try. And setting it back into his hand that remained in place.

König eyes widened at your bold display, a fire burning into them as he watched you lips grip the rim of the curved glass. The way your necked bobbed as you swallowed the sweet liquid. The fire burning a path straight to his pants. Feeling himself grow to life and strain against the front zipper.

"It's nice to see you like this sir." you blurted out and immediately regretting it. Ok, last drink and your leaving, you scolded yourself. "What do you mean?" his curosity peeked. You waved his answer away, getting embarssed by your loose lips. "Dont get shy on me now." he pushed. Moving hs big body into yours more, pining you to the bar stool.

"It's just, your so human." you whispered. A little nervous to his reacton, but instead he leaned his head back and barked out a laugh. Causing people around to jump at the sudden loud sound. A few moving away from the big man.

"That was a good one Katze." he leaned further down to your face. "I like seeing you like this." his hand slowly running from your wrist to your neck, holding it in place. "Like what sir?" you mummured, eyeing his lips as they moved closer to your own. "Flustered." he breathed into your mouth, closing the gap and kissing you deeply. His hand moving to the back of your head to keep you in place. Your lungs seizing to produce air as you felt his soft lips move against yours.

He pulled away slowly, moving his hand to your face, running his thumb over your bottom lip. Your lungs screamed, finally sucking in a deep breath. You could feel the heat rise to your face, you must look like a tomato right now.

"So damn cute." he continued, looking away from you to your abandoned drink at the bar. "Are you done?" he questioned. You were buzzing, almost right out of your skin. So light headed all you could do his shake your head yes. König took that as his sign to make a move, so he lead you out of the bar into the cold night.

"This way doll." as he pulled you to the direction of the quiet street, you could spot the bmw shining under the moon light. "I'll drive us back." he reached the passenger door, holding it open for you as you climbed in. Closing it softly as he jogged to the drivers side, climbing in and the car roared to life.

The drive back to the base passed in a flash, König nearly dragging you through the building towards his own room. His high status warrants his own private quarters. A small living and dining area, followed by his bedroom and attached bathroom. He unlocked the door with haste and pulled you in. Spinning you around so you were pushed against the back of the door.

His strong body on yours, you heard the click of the lock slide into place. König lips once again on yours, nipping and sucking. Making a trail down your neck, pulling the zipper of your jacket down and off your arms. Tossing it towards his table, his hands finding your ass and hauling you up. You legs mindlessly wrapping around his waist, tugging him into your core more. Earning a low moan, vibrating from his chest.

He yanked at the collar of your shirt, a clean tear running down the front exposing your breast to his mouth. Pulling a yelp from you as he nipped at the sensitive skin. He turned you both around and towards his room, kicking the door open and dropping you on the bed.

"Sir-" you tried to let out but König's lips swallowed your words. "Shhh, baby. Let me make you feel good. Ja." he whispered into your mouth, making you melt into the bed. All you could do was shake your head has you fully leaned back, closing your eyes.

König made good with your clothes, leaving you only in your panties. You watched has he removed his shirt and shoved his jean and brief's to the floor, kicking them away as he climbed back on and slotted himself between your thighs.

Pining your spread knees to your stomach, rubbing his face against your clothed core. His big nose carding its self along your slit, building pressure against your clit. Pulling moans from you, throwing your head back.

König took his time, running his face up and down your thighs. Kissing from your ankle to your inner thigh, over your soaking core, and down the other leg. Licking path across your skin and blowing on the wetness, goosebumps spreading across your body.

Pulling your hard buds into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and sucking. His teeth grazing on the sensitive nipple and lightly nipping. Relishing in the noises hes drawing from you. Humming in approval, slowly pulling down your panties and letting them get lost on the bed.

His fingers find your center, the thick heavy digits ghosting up and down. Gathering the wetness that pushed through, pressing his wide thumb right against your clit. Making you buck into his hand more, König's mouth still on your tits.

He worked his thick middle finger into you, slowly opening you for him. Working knuckle by knuckle, whispering praises into your ear. Pushing another finger into you, making you whimper at the stretch.

"Ko, please." you pleaded with him, feeling his low chuckle. His hot mouth against your ear, cooing "Patience love." as his fingers pump in and out of you. Feeling your slick slide down your ass and onto the sheets.

Whining at the loss of his fingers, but feeling the head of his dick running up and down. Collecting your wetness and spreading it over him before the tip catches you needy hole. Snapping his hips fowards ripped a cry from your throat. Your legs clamping around him and tightening.

"Shh, shhh. Quiet now pretty girl. I'm sorry, I'll be more carefully." and he kept true to his word. His cock slowly stretching you open, your warm folds inviting him in. Squeezing and pulsing around him, König cherished every moment.

Sensually thrusting in and out, lazily rolling his hips. Making sure he pulls orgasm after orgasm from your body.

Not stopping until your begging and pleading with him. Incoherently going on about it being too much, too sensitive.

König could lose himself in you, deeper and deeper. Holding back to not scare you. Wanting to make it all about his sweet little medic. The moment he laid eyes on you he was hooked. Those sweet eyes and kind smile, how quick and smart you were. Such a soft thing, you shouldn't be in this line of field.

Finally letting himself go, he buried himself deeper. Releasing pressed right up against your cervix, shoveling as much as he could to your core. Letting out one last guttural moan as he collapsed onto you, only rolling over when you started banging against his back. Taking you with you, you settled on his chest.

König laid out completely satisfied, head back and eyes closed. He could feel you staring at him.

"Sleep" he commanded. Hearing your giggle as you continued to stare.

[thesuperiorrobin]

Potential love troups? With a twist?

Friends to lovers ~

A classic love between two best friends as they try to hide their feelings for one another afraid it might ruin their friendship. Damian is brutal when he tries to hide his feelings—and sometimes wonder why you’re still friends with him. He falls in love with you because you understand him and aren’t friends with him because of who his father is. You fall in love because he’s a kind person despite being ruthless to everyone else. But to you he won’t return the feelings, will he?

Enemies to lovers~

Another classic expects it’s between the love of two sidekicks. You two fight around the city in the middle of the night while he’s on patrol. He hates how you’re always involved in everything and you hate how he stops you from everything. Won’t be a dull moment between the two when you aren’t throwing punches at each other. Until one day something bad happens and Damian dressed as Robin gets himself into trouble that leaves him bloody and bruised. You saved and cared for him—still keeping his identity a secret. He appreciated it.

Fake relationship~

Rumors going around about Damian dating this woman whom he does not like— so to steer clear from the news headlines he asked you, his long-term friend, to be in a fake relationship to get out of it. It works, but now the headlines are about you two, so you two play along for a few more months. Everything was fake. The dates that you purposely planned to get caught. But we’re the kisses fake too?

Forced marriage~

A marriage planned by your parents and his mother. Damian’s older now and now leads the League of Assassins with the burden on his back. You aren’t important to the league — and your only purpose is to give the Al Ghuls another heir after Damian. So you stand in the shadows, behind your husband everywhere he goes. Damian Al Ghul is a brutal man outside those doors, yelling at the people below him to work harder, a brutal man on missions he’s assigned. But behind closed doors, he’s a gentleman, towards you that is. A part of him pitty’s you. You didn’t ask to be married to a man like him. But you reassured him countless times you don’t mind it. A heavyweight leaves your shoulders when he promises to keep you safe. Maybe this forced marriage won’t be bad after all.

Soulmates/Best friends to lovers

An AU of mine where both you and Damian were married 100 years ago, so in love it made everyone jealous. You two were soulmates in another life, but that life was cut short after your lives were taken away from you. Now your souls are reincarnation to today's world. The world where you too are not a couple but rather best friends. There was some sort of connection when you two met and you instantly clicked. But you both have a small feeling you two should be something more than friends. “You think we were best friends in our past lives?” “I highly doubt that…”

Secret dating!

Can go both ways! You’re dating Robin, the vigilant sidekick that rides alongside the Dark night of Gotham. Ideally, you keep it a secret. For everyone—that includes Batman himself (but he knows) for many reasons the main one being He’s afraid of losing you. Some so many people want him and Batman dead and if they found out about you, you were as good as dead too.

Or

You’re dating Damian. You two agreed on keeping it private. Paparazzi doesn’t know what boundaries are in the world and Damian wanted to protect you from them. That was his main goal—that and keeping you a secret from his family. They’re embarrassing, to say the least, and if they found out about you he would never hear the end of it. Although Alfred already knows who you are.

[fumifooms]

"Marchil? I guess I can see it on Chilchuck’s end, but what about Marcille’s? What makes you think she could develop feelings for him?" I’m glad you asked!

The first thing to note is that she does think highly of him

In the page on the right, literally defending his virtues and literally comparing him to Dalclan. And oh…

She does love a brooding mysterious guy who closes himself to love. But surely, Chilchuck isn’t her type at all, right? He’s not princely or knightly at all. In apperances certainly not, both looks wise and demeanor wise, but then that’s why she seeks to know him on a deeper level, to not only look shallowly.

And hmm. Chilchuck really is quite selfless isn’t he? Always looking out for others, and saving specifically her often, always making sure himself and, staying in or even running towards danger for her sometimes. Modesty is often considered heroic…

And can we talk about that drowning one… You can definitely frame the special attention as him knowing she tends to hesitate or be clumsy, and then his insistance on pulling her out of danger that she’s the healer aka the most important to keep alive, but. From the one who says that he just keeps his ass out of fights and won’t help this is a lot of risk to take, and he does die trying to pull her to safety in the dungeon rabbits chapter. And the drowning bit??? That’s when the dungeon collapses. The only reason they DON’T die of drowning here is that the water then gives way to outside. There was NO hope of pulling her to safety here and resurrections would likely not work either, he truly preferred to die with her than try to survive himself.

Sit your ass back DOWN you are in no state, self-sacrifical hero much damn

And Marcille definitely noticed this imo, after all she loves learning all she can about him, remembering things like how he hates waiting on people too. She pays attention to him and what he does and what he says. This to say that it’s notable, whatever reason for it you may think (though we know by this point at least she was already aware he was an adult though it wasn’t internalized), out of everyone it’s Chilchuck’s bed that she wants to sleep in during the Golden Kingdom stay. He’s safe and comforting to her: dependable, the defining trait in her view of him as is shown by the relationship chart in the Adventurer’s Bible.

^ Lending handkerchiefs is a romance trope btw and handkerchiefs have irl history of being used for courting. Especially in old English literature and plays like Shakespeare’s Othello, and personally I do see a lot of Shakespeare in Dalclan (nobility political drama with some romance). There’s how his cowl is a dearly beloved souvenir from his family too, there’s a lot of aesthetic tropes you can apply to him.

All this to say you can 100% romanticize Chilchuck into a princely noble guy if you try and that’s exactly what Marcille does with the wife roleplay. She doesn’t need much in the first place, she latches onto crumbs and makes aesthetic narratives out of details, give her an inch she’ll take a mile.

But what’s interesting about the shift throughout the arc of her and his relationship is that she starts out idealizing him into a little angel of a kid (shapeshifter), and she ends it idealizing him as a virtuous husband and family man instead.

And what’s doubly interesting is that in the former, she’s actively warping who he is personality and demeanor wise to fit the aesthetic, he doesn’t have that bitter pride of not asking for help and the edges have been smoothened. But what she does during the wife roleplay is something else, she acknowledges the flaws and just… Accepts them, rolls with them. She’s aware of his flaws and implements them into the narrative, but the reason why his wife left doesn’t capitalize on them even, rather Chil is chilblivious and his wife loves him very much still, she’s just testing him after having had a night of feeling out of place at his side.

And this is what separates the idealization vs romanticization, she’s not twisting him into someone else she’s just uplifting what he is and focusing on the good sides.

Marcille: "he has a shitty personality sometimes but if he was my husband I’d still cherish him" "If I were your wife I’d be overjoyed to go out with you and would get myself prettied up while you complain about me taking a long time, your friends would tell me that I’m nice and that’d make me happy, but I’d also be sad because you wouldn’t tell me that you love me enough"

He’s angry and his wife left him, he’s *flawed*, but he’s still worth hyping up, still worth having his own romance story, still has a shot of winning back his beloved. She sees him for what he is, human and real and not a carefully scripted character that fits an aesthetic, and she thinks it’s still worthy of love and admiration and fighting for

And what’s funny too is that you might expect her to cool down on him once she learns more about him but actually she only gets increasingly into his business. You tell her your age and next thing you know you promise to introduce her to your family. Give her an inch she takes a mile. And too the thing is, Senshi is equally mysterious but she doesn’t pester him like at all, asks him ONCE about his succubus and he doesn’t even answer and that’s like… It. With Chilchuck it starts off innocently enough with her wanting to know his age, hometown, the stuff she mentions having asked pre-canon. But it just keeps and keeps going and escalating. Think she’ll be satisfied now knowing you have a wife and kids, maybe she’s disillusioned now? Wrong! She wants to know their names and ages and occupations and hey how did you propose to your wife? Do you think she’ll stop after meeting them? What’s next? What will she want to know next????

She’s… Like it’s not a reach that Marcille is all over him. Like it doesn’t mean it’s romantic but she just is. She is not normal about him idk. Can you not ask him about what tongue technique he used when first kissing his wife, give the man breathing room

Marcille could literally go "if I was Chilchuck’s wife" having deeply pondered and thought out the hypothetical and people would still ask where anyone sees any romantic potential between them. Oh wait

There’s a platonic explanation for everything (almost?) in Dungeon Meshi don’t say I’m saying otherwise, but it’s definitely not like there’s nothing here to read into lol

Going off a bit more under read bc it’s my fave topic

Marcille has a whole theme with the charming prince trope with her idealization and storybook motif and Chil is kinda the "Well someone perfect like that isn’t very realistic and romance is usually more complex and that’s ok and good and flawed people can still be ✨virtuous✨" catalyst

Do you see do you see she starts canon thinking the most romantic thing is a prince charming but her arc in the end has her romanticizing an average, flawed, real and realistic family man, who’s on the poorer side and is on the verge of divorce. And that’s what he needed, too, seeing the positive of himself and the situation instead of focusing on the negative is explicitly what inspires him to hope that he might be able to reconcile with his wife, gives him the courage and self-esteem to shoot his shot.

He IS a prince figure instead that now it’s not about idealizing the grand and overt it’s about romanticizing the small things in real life!! About finding joy and beauty in things that seem normal or mundane and uplifting them to make the world feel kinder!!!!

He’s the devoted virtuous man that she wantsss not the storybook prince that’s unrealistic and could crumble like a script at any time. He’s the perfect example of a flawed realistic but virtuous & devoted & loving man. Far from a prince charming, but not fully detached from it either. Something worth fighting for despite the flawed cracks. Like literally, flawed romance being worth fighting for is literally the finale of Chilchuck and Marcille’s arc on the matter, where their separate arcs and issues intersect at the most crucial moment.

Marcille is important to Chil’s arc not only because of her optimism, but also because of her interest and knowledge in romance & matters of the heart, and that’s what he needs to both open his heart up to hope and to try to reconcile with his wife, like idk sounds gay

Their arc together is literally learning to 1) see each other for how they are and not undermining their qualities capacities etc etc while still not leaving flaws unchecked either and 2) opening up to people. Marcille LITERALLY makes Chil open his heart up to hope like idk man. What do you want from me. He’s literally the guy helping her through deconstructing novels and fantasy and rose tinted glasses and like. Deconstructing the prince charming figure into something more real but still romantically beautiful like KUI KUI STOOOOP STOP I’M ALREADY HOOKED I’M ALREADY-

 Ok fine that’s me reading into the tropes too much forgive me for being storybook brained but like. Speaking his heart out to a lone woman on a balcony, Romeo and Juliette shit, asking if she, too, doesn’t want to meet his family, madly blushing. And like she’s learned with Chilchuck it’s all in the little things, all the implications he cannot speak aloud. She does reciprocate, does blush madly back, and the first thing she does is shower him in flowers and jewelry and what in her heart is coded as romantic gifts

A lady, stashed away in a high tower by her lonesome, waiting for someone to call out to her from below… Romeo courting type shit with an offer, a heartfelt spiel, implicit confession from underneath her balcony. Offering him flowers because he succeeded in calling out to her heart…….. And they have to climb to her too…. Crazy

Doesn’t it sound like a proposal. One that’s both so storybook-like and not, contrastedly real and grounded, all about the implications rather than in your face grand gestures, "Don’t you want to meet my family?". They literally have an arc about the topic of romance and this is the climax/pinnacle of it like god?? This is @ the woman who said "Chilchuck is a shy/bashful man so I know he wouldn’t tell me he loves me, but…" btw

To quote a friend, truly the shiny secret unlockable dating sim capture target : THE DUNGEON LORD BIT WAS SO FUNNY BECAUSE HE KNEW SHE'D TAKE IT HOOK LINE AND SINKER HES THE ONE WHO GOT HER TO TURN AROUND COMPLETELY SHES LIKE. WIDE EYED FLAG RAISED???? FLAG RAISED WITH CHILCHUCK 👀👀👀‼️👀👀‼️👀

And the way that this is the culmination of their arc together… Like people are not ready for the ‘Chil calling out to dunlord Marcille on the balcony has Romeo and Juliette romance novels imagery’ take. Or the ‘their arc is about growing to see beauty even in the non-idealized, in the flawed and in the real’ take which makes it so so perfect if she were to lower her ideal from a charming elven prince to a virtuous halfling man (which she does end up romanticizing)

So there, you got to witness in real time what happens when I think about marchil for longer than 2 minutes, there are so many layers it’s a deranged rabbithole. I saw the necronomicon of subtext and it’s driving me to madness with forbidden knowledge that no one else sees

……. Like what if I told you she implicitly picked Chilchuck over a "unrealistic prince charming who’s actually disingenuous" much earlier in the story already. If she was given the choice to think through going with a guy that seems perfect and chivalrous like her succubus she’d pick Chilchuck over the other actually. If I sound insane rn tune in for my full analysis on them coming this month hopefully thank youu. Interwoven arcs of fantasy vs reality and idealization vs pessimism I love youuu

So now you know the general thesis of my planned analysis about the importance of the prince charming figure in Marcille and Chilchuck’s arc, where she romanticizes things to a sometimes worrying degree or idealize people into something easy and digestible and poetic (like Chil being a kid, and then him being a virtuous ✨✨✨husband), and how she needs to value aesthetics less and actual acts and facts more, be more grounded (like seeing people for what they are flaws and all, and accepting that people need money and not pulling through on principles of honor or unity shouldn’t get Namari shamed) and a part of that is accepting that Chilchuck is BOTH flawed and virtuous, a loving husband that still has shitty moods and fumbled his marriage so bad etc etc. So it’s like, her image of perfect prince charming that will whisk you away on an ethereal romance -> realistic flawed middle aged dad with personality issues and a failing marriage but he still is worthy of love and having his cute grand romance story and his happy ending. Ik I keep repeating the same point through this but I need it to be burned into everyone’s brains it has its grip on me I can’t do this. They are so special……

[stevie-petey]

episode one: the vanishing of will byers

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you.  “So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?” Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead.

summary: jonathan smuggles you free food in exchange for friendship, will goes missing the one time you listen to jonathan, hopper doesn't really like you, and steve harrington almost hits you with his car as you're sobbing like a damn baby (in a cool way).

rating: general, although there's plenty of cursing and slight innuendos, so fair warning.

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.

words: 7k

before you swing in: hello ! this is the first chapter of my come home series, where i plan on rewriting the entirety of stranger things because i really love a good rewrite fic and this is me just indulging in my ideal fic fantasies tbh. before we start: this is a steve x reader fic, however there will be some slight feelings between the reader and jonathan, but it doesn't at all get in the way of steve and honestly just adds to the angst because i love a good tragedy. also, reader is dustin's older sister, but i tried to write her as neutral as possible in terms of physical features, so let's all just play along. that is all ! i'm very excited for this series and i hope y'all enjoy her as much as i do :)

-

November 6th, 1983

Your shift at Bookstrordinary ends at 8:30 tonight, so as soon as you’ve organized all the books within the store and cashed out the last customer, you say goodnight to your boss, Mrs. Waters, and clock out. Today had been a longer shift, and it didn’t help that you had to deal with a particularly eager bookclub mother who insisted that you had the latest copy of some obscure novel that she needed for her club. After several attempts to inform her that no, you really didn’t have some novel about a cowboy falling in love with a rodeo girl from Michigan, nor would you ever want to read that, the mother angrily walked away. 

You’re happy to finally be free from work though, excited to see Jonathan to tell him about the book club mom because you know he gets a kick out of those suburban middle class mothers that terrorize Hawkins. He works across from you, at The Hawk theater, and it’s one of your favorite things about the bookstore. Besides getting to be surrounded by books all day and reading Spider-Man, you get to be across the street from your best friend and share frequent breaks together. 

A bell signifies your arrival at the theater, alerting Jonathan to look up from the concession stand and smile at you. He looks tired, which you can understand. It’s been a particularly long school year so far with Jonathan having to work more shifts than usual to support his family. 

“Welcome to The Hawk, can I interest you in our specialty popcorn and candy corn mixture?”

You make a face, “No, thanks. Candy corn freaks me out.” 

Jonathan laughs, knowing you’d say that. It’s been a running joke between the two of you for as long as you can remember. You’re not picky with most foods, but candy corn? The bane of your existence. “Tough crowd, then.” 

You laugh as well, now standing in front of the counter, and you learn against it so that you’re in Jonathan’s space. After being friends for so long, personal space doesn’t exist between the two of you. You’re the only person that Jonathan lets get this close to him on a regular basis, which you’re secretly proud of. 

“So, you almost done so we can pick up our idiotic brothers?” Tonight, as usual, Will and Dustin are at Mike’s house playing DnD. They’d biked over as soon as school let out, while Jonathan drove you to work, so he was your ride back for the night. 

He shakes his head at you, wincing, “I picked up an extra shift tonight. Stacy called out sick, and it’s good money…”

You nod in understanding. He doesn’t have to explain himself to you, which he’s always relieved by. 

“It’s okay. Is my bike still in your trunk?” 

“Yeah, I can get it out for you since I’m kind of ditching you tonight.” 

You wave him off, already reaching across the counter to grab his keys from his coat pocket. “No need, I’ll get it out myself so you don’t get in trouble with your boss.” Jonathan’s boss is an older guy, extra scary. “I’m assuming that I’m taking Will home tonight?” 

“It’ll be late by the time you get the boys, and you’ll have Dustin. We only live a couple blocks apart, you can just bike with Will until you get to your street.”

“Are you sure? I know he’s scared of the dark.” 

“It’s fine, Y/N. You’re already doing enough being there for most of the ride; I’m sure Will can survive the last five minutes alone.” 

You give Jonathan an unsure look, but you don’t argue with him. He’s his brother, he knows Will’s capabilities, and it’s an unspoken fact that you baby Will a bit too much. He’s just so much tinier than the other boys, softer in a way that you want to protect. He’s special. 

Jonathan sneaks you a large peach lemonade and hot dog from the concession stand when you return with his keys. You’ve parked your bike up front, and you accept the food gratefully. You hadn’t had time to eat your usual dinner during your break due to the bookclub mother fiasco, so you inhale the food quickly and give his hair a ruffle. 

“You’re a lifesaver, bee.” 

Jonathan lightly hits your hand away from his hair. “Consider it your payment for dealing with Will and Dustin on your own tonight, bug.” 

Bee and bug were the names the two of you had given each other years ago. Jonathan had started it with bug, stemming from the fact that you love Spider-Man so much, and you had struggled to come up with your own nickname for him. Then it came to you: bee, or B, for Byers. It was perfect, and you’re still incredibly proud of yourself for the creativity, honestly. 

After your quick dinner, you say goodbye to your friend and head off. It’s late now, nearing 9, and you hope that Mrs. Wheeler and your own mom won’t be too upset with you for being late for pick up. You know they prefer to have the boys in bed by a decent hour, but in your defense, Jonathan did skip out on you.

You arrive at the Wheeler’s in a short amount of time and knock on the door. Your cheeks are flushed from the early November cold, and you’re regretting that you only put on a thin sweater and jeans this morning.

Mike answers the door, giving you a dirty look. “Did you have to come early?”

“I’m actually later than usual,” you sidestep him, making your way into his house; you’ve become used to Mike’s attitude. “I take it the campaign is still ongoing?”

“See, mom? Even Y/N understands how long a good campaign can go on for!” Mike waves his arms at you, as if to signify to his mother the importance of your understanding. 

Mrs. Wheeler ignores her son to greet you kindly, albeit a bit exasperated. “Hello, Y/N, please come in.” Then she turns to Mike, giving him a stern look. “Mike, why don’t you tell Y/N how you boys have been playing for ten hours? I’m sure she’ll be understanding then.” 

“You guys have been playing for ten hours?”

Mike looks down in embarrassment for a second before turning to his father for help. You laugh a bit at his enthusiasm and see a faint smile on his mom’s face as well. Quietly you excuse yourself to go downstairs to find the other boys, and Mrs. Wheeler wishes you luck. 

Everyone always acts like the boys are some giant pain; truthfully, you enjoy them. Sure, they can be a handful, but they’re just kids; it’s hard for you to ever stay mad at them. Plus they like you, so it makes dealing with them easier. 

Lucas, Dustin, and Will are running around the basement when you get down there, frantically searching for something. You hear Lucas inform Will that if Mike doesn’t see something, then it doesn’t count. The urgence in his voice amuses you; you’ll never fully wrap your head around why they take DnD so seriously, but you love that they can enjoy it with each other. 

Dustin is the first to see you. “Y/N!”

The other boy’s heads turn to you and they greet you with enthusiasm as well. Will rushes towards you for a hug, which you gladly accept. When you break apart, Lucas gives you a high five and asks about a comic you’ve put on hold for him at the store. 

“Any luck?”

“Sorry, Sinclair. It’s still sold out, but the second it’s restocked I’ll smuggle one for you.” 

“Sick!” 

Dustin walks over, now in his coat and holding a pizza box. “Want a slice?” 

You decline, informing him that Jonathan snuck some food for you. At the mention of his brother’s name, Will asks where he is. You tell him that Jonathan had to cover a shift and that you’ll be taking him most of the way home tonight. 

As you all make your way upstairs, you notice that Dustin continues up to the second floor. Lucas notices too, and the two of you share a knowing look. 

“Still have a crush on Nancy?” You ask, already knowing the answer. 

“Yup.” Lucas responds, smiling in disappointment. 

You wait for your brother outside, helping Will with his coat and listen to Mike’s rambling about the campaign. Lucas is already on his bike, ready to go. 

“There’s something wrong with your sister.” Dustin declares when he finally returns.

Mike looks at you, then at your brother, confused. “What are you talking about?” 

“She’s got a stick up her butt.” 

“Dustin!” You berate. Nancy isn’t your favorite person, but she’s always been nice to you the few times you’ve interacted. You guys used to be closer when you were younger, but high school has a way of distancing people.

“Yeah,” Lucas now speaks up. “It’s because she’s been dating that douchebag, Steve Harrington.” How the hell does Lucas even know about that? You didn’t even know about that until just now. 

“Lucas! Language!” 

“Yeah, she’s been turning into a real jerk.”

“Dustin, I swear to God-” 

The boys ignore you, which you’re honestly not surprised by. While they may like you, that doesn't mean that they listen to you. On a good day they maybe listen to you 25% of the time, but tonight was clearly not a good night. 

Mike finally cuts in, “She’s always been a real jerk.”

“Hey, she’s your sister. Give her some credit-”

Dustin is now the one who cuts you off. “Nuh-uh, only you get the sister leniency, Y/N. Nancy used to be cool, now she isn’t.” 

“Remember that time she dressed up as an elf for our Elder tree campaign?” Lucas asks, almost reminiscent. 

You shudder at the way he says it, and you shudder more when you see the dreamy look in your brother’s eyes. “Yeah, I remember…” 

“Gross,” you huff at your brother, now hopping on your own bike. 

Lucas and Dustin begin to pedal away, and you call after them to wait up. Will is still with Mike, and you promised Jonathan you’d get him home. You give the boys a bit of space, waiting a few paces ahead. Will has always been shy around Mike, something that you’ve tried not looking into too much, but to be safe you give them some privacy. 

Faintly, you hear Will say, “The Demogorgon, it got me.” 

Lights flicker a bit, but you’re too focused on the slight unease you feel by Will’s words. Before you can think too much about them, he joins you. “Race you up to Lucas and Dustin?”

“You’re on,” you tell him. 

Will beats you to the boys (which you let him do), and you’re out of breath. The four of you bike in silence for a bit until you reach Lucas’s turn into his neighborhood. 

“Good night, ladies.” He says, and you don’t need to be a psychic to know what your brother’s response is going to be.

“Kiss your mom ‘night for me.” Bless him.

You and Will giggle together, and Dustin smirks at the two of you, proud. He sits in the praise for a few moments before challenging you and Will to race home with the promise of a comic for whoever wins. 

“I call last year’s Black Cat issue of Spider-man!” You call out, already biking away from the boys. 

“We didn’t say go!”

Dustin and Will call after you as they try to catch up, and within a few seconds the three of you are speeding down the hill towards your home. You laugh gleefully, enjoying the way the wind whips through your hair and the way Dustin, though annoyed by your early start, laughs alongside you with Will. 

Somehow Will is the one who wins the race, which you’re impressed by. He may be small, but he’s surprisingly good at winning when it comes to a competition. Dustin shouts at Will that he’ll kill him, which makes you send a warning look at him. 

“I’ll take your X-Men 134!” Will retaliates, still flying through the street. 

You and Dustin are now stopped at your mailbox and you take a moment to catch your breath before shouting at Will, “Be careful, please! Stay safe!”

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night. Dustin has already gone inside but you wait to follow, only going inside when you can no longer see Will, hopefully home safe and sound. You feel fear creep upon you, but you chalk it up to your usual worry when it comes to the boy. 

He’ll be okay, Jonathan should be home within the hour. 

– 

The next morning you’re frantically biking to school, pissed off at Jonathan. He’s your ride every morning, or everywhere, really, and for the second time in 24 hours he’s bailed on you. Dustin left for school ages ago on his bike, so you’re thankful he doesn’t see you embarrassingly sweaty and gross as you race to school. 

It’s not that you’re pissed that Jonathan bailed again, you’re pissed because he didn��t even have the nerve to call you ahead of time to warn you. Now you have only ten minutes before the first bell rings, and your sweater clings to you uncomfortably as you sweat. 

You make it to school with a few minutes to spare, so you quickly make your way over to your locker to grab the necessary books for the day. You’re still sweaty, and you don’t want to even think about what your hair looks like right now. You look down the hall towards Jonathan’s locker, still not seeing him, and you begin to worry a bit. Maybe he overslept after last night’s shift? 

A body crashes into yours, sending your notebooks spiraling to the ground. Steve Harrington looks at you sheepishly, only saying a small “whoops!” before continuing his fast pace towards the girl’s bathroom. You scoff, now even more annoyed with your entire morning, picking up your stuff as you see Nancy enter the same bathroom a few moments later. 

“In a public school bathroom?” You mutter in disgust, collecting the last of your things and heading to class. 

You decide to give Jonathan until second period, sophomore English which the two of you share, before you freak out. You know you have a problem with over worrying about the people you love, so you try to calm yourself down. While Jonathan has never been the type to cancel without at least calling first, you reason with yourself that everyone has a bad morning. He simply slept in too late. When he wakes up, he’ll come to school and he’ll be sitting in the seat next to you in English. 

Except Jonathan isn’t in the seat next to yours when you enter the classroom an hour later. Now you officially let yourself begin to worry. Something about this doesn’t feel right. 

You’ve never skipped class before, school has always been important to you. You’re the top of your class with hopes of running away from Hawkins with Jonathan to a big city with an even bigger university. However, you don’t even hesitate to flee the classroom and find the nearest phone in the school to call the Byers’ residence. 

Jonathan answers after a few rings, and the words that leave his lips change your life forever. “Will is missing.”

You feel all the air in your lungs be knocked out of you. You can’t breathe and you sway a bit as your knees threaten to give out. This isn’t real, this can’t be happening. 

“What?”

“Will, he-he’s gone, Y/N. We can’t find him and-” 

You don’t hear whatever else Jonathan says. You struggle to get air back in your lungs. Will isn’t missing, you just saw him last night. Mere hours ago Will laughed next to you, face alive with joy, he hugged you and joked along with you. 

“He didn’t come home last night-”

“He didn’t come home?” Jonathan’s words catch your attention and you feel bile rise in your throat. Will didn’t make it home last night. You were the last one to see him, and the realization crushes you; it’s all your fault. 

“Mom and I just searched the woods, and there’s no sign of him and-” Jonathan is rambling now, his own fear and despair clear in his voice. 

“Jonathan,” you force his name out, now needing to be there for your best friend. You can worry for Will in your own time, right now Jonathan needs you. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” 

“Y/N, you don’t-”

You hang up before Jonathan can argue with you and stumble towards the exit. Your limbs feel heavier than normal, and your ears are ringing. Will is missing. He’s so small, he’s scared of the dark… You left him alone in the dark. 

The bike ride to the Byers home is a blur. You don’t remember much, your body going on autopilot the second you hopped on your bike. You’re running on pure fear and adrenaline right now, too worried for your boys to focus on anything else. 

You don’t bother to knock when you arrive, instead you let yourself in. Joyce is on the phone, arguing with some woman named Cynthia. Your eyes find Jonathan’s, who is sitting on the couch hunched over something. You walk over to him and sit down beside him and your stomach lurches when you see the words “have you seen me?” he’s so neatly printed out on a piece of paper.

“Bee…” you exhale, voice cracking a bit. 

Jonathan doesn’t say anything, but you know him as well as you know yourself. He doesn’t want comforting words right now. You take his hand into yours and lean your head against his shoulder. Worry has made his muscles tense, but you feel him relax into you a bit as he rests his own head against yours. The two of you sit like that for a moment, taking in the comfort you bring each other. 

“Bitch!” Joyce slams the phone down, causing you and Jonathan to jump apart. 

“Mom,”

“What?” Joyce is a mixture of both rage and anxiety, and you feel awful looking at her. Her son is missing, you can’t imagine what she must be feeling right now.

“You have to stay calm.” Jonathan tells her, his voice firm but kind. You know it’s taking everything in him to be as stable as he is right now; he’s putting on a front for his worried mother. You squeeze his hand, hoping it conveys the support and love that you need it to.

He squeezes back, and you see Joyce finally recognize that you’re there as well. She sends you a weak wave, which you return, before she goes back to dialing and trying to reach Lonnie. Jonathan gives your hand one last squeeze and lets go, now returning back to the posters. You immediately understand that he’s doing this to distract himself, so you do the same and wordlessly help him.

You begin writing your own “have you seen me?” when Joyce once again slams her phone down. The sound makes you flinch, inadvertently messing up your writing, which you sigh at. Before you can ask Jonathan for another piece of paper, you hear a car pull up. 

Jonathan stands up to investigate, alerting his mom that the cops are here. You follow after them outside, your heart dropping when you see Will’s bike in the Chief’s hand. He ushers everyone inside, informing Joyce that he found the bike lying in the road.

“How far was it from the house?” You ask, your voice frail. 

The Chief looks at you, his nametag informs you that his name is Hopper, and raises his eyebrows. “And can I know who is asking?” 

You clear your throat, nervous under his scrutinizing gaze. “I’m Y/N Henderson. I’m close with the Byers, I biked with Will home,” your voice catches in your throat, snagging onto the guilt that has been clawing at you ever since you found out Will was missing. You clear your throat again, determined to continue. “I was with him last night. My brother and I live right off Mirkwood, a few blocks from here. He only had a few more minutes before he would’ve been home.” 

Hopper stares at you. “Mirkwood?”

“It’s where-”

“Yeah, those moron kids explained it to me. I just didn’t think someone your age would call the street that, too.” Then, as an afterthought, Hopper adds, “The bike was found a block from here.”

His words sting, but you ignore it. If the bike was found only a block from the Byers’ home, then that means that something had to have happened to Will only minutes after you last saw him. You feel the familiar churning in your stomach, wracked with guilt. 

“Did it have any blood on it?” Joyce now asks, and you’re thankful she’s taken the attention off of you. 

Jonathan sees your distress and grabs your sweater so that you fall back a bit from the cops and Joyce. “Do you need a minute?”

You can only nod, afraid that if you open your mouth you’ll either cry or throw up. He gently guides you to his room, closing the door. Once you’re alone, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight. You’re shaking harder than ever now, Will’s happy and shining face from last night keeps flashing through your mind. 

You were the last one who ever saw him.

You’re the one who was last responsible for him. 

You.

“It’s not your fault,” Jonathan whispers, his voice muffled by your hair. You’ve always loved how you fit perfectly in his arms, your height difference being just enough that he always rests his chin against your head when he hugs you. 

“I’m the last person who saw him.”

“Y/N, I was the one who asked you to only bike him halfway-”

“No,” your voice comes out louder than you intend it to, and you push Jonathan away. He lets out a confused noise as you grapple at him, forcing him to look directly at you. “I should’ve been with him, Jonathan. It’s your job to support your family, and it’s my job to help you. I have to… I have to be the one who helps you.” 

You’ve always been fascinated by psychology, and you remember reading in one of the journals about codependency; the term was used in relation to addiction, specifically alcoholism, but it had caught your interest. To love someone to the extent that their actions make you feel responsible for them, to selflessly take on their burdens to a debilitating extent, well, it reminded you of your relationship with Jonathan. 

You’ve always taken on whatever Jonathan has had to deal with, ever since you were kids, and it’s always come so naturally to you. He’s never asked you to, and sometimes the extent to which you carry his weight angers him, but it’s how you love.

It’s who you are. You’re always the one who helps, it’s what you need to be able to do. If you can’t help the ones you love the most, then what good is your love for them?

Jonathan may not know about codependency, but he knows how hard you love those closest to you. “Bug, listen to me.” He grabs your face, almost aggressively, in order to cut off your rambling. “My mom, she-she’s already spiraling and I can’t… I need you. I need you to be here, with me, right now. If I lose you too, then I-I don’t know what I’ll do.”

His words cut through you like glass. He’s right, you know he’s right, and you feel another wave of guilt wash over you. This guilt is different from the guilt surrounding Will. This is mixed with shame for allowing yourself to spiral so far and forcing Jonathan to take care of you. Joyce is clearly unwell, you can’t fathom how much he’s had to deal with today. 

You gently remove Jonathan’s hands from your face and take a step back. If you’re going to help him, you need to collect yourself. From here on out, you have to be a wall for him to lean on, a shoulder to cry on, someone who will listen to him. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Jonathan shrugs at you, now allowing a hesitant smile to cross his face. “If it makes you feel any better, it took a lot less pleading to get through to you. I’m still working on my mom.” 

The joke is foul, one that should make you feel even worse than you already do, because what sixteen year old has to plead with their mother to remind her that he’s there, too? The joke is horrible, and it’s exactly what you need to find yourself laughing, and Jonathan joins. 

Codependency can be a bitch, but Jonathan understands you in ways that no one else can. 

“You think the cops are gone?” You ask, wiping away the remaining tears. 

Jonathan listens for any sign of them and shakes his head. “No, I think we’re all clear.”

He walks out the room first and you follow after him. Joyce is standing in the kitchen, staring at the counter with a far off look in her eyes. You and Jonathan look at each other and you motion for him to go talk to her. He nods, and then you motion to the living room to indicate that you’ll continue working on the missing posters. 

Carefully writing on the posters soothes you, in a way. It’s rhythmic, providing a sense of lull that you readily embrace. You faintly hear Jonathan talking with his mother, then you watch as he leads her to her bedroom and shuts the door. When he returns he sits next to you on the couch and begins to work on the posters as well. No words are needed. 

You work on the posters in silence for a few hours until it nears 3pm. Dustin will be getting out of school soon, and you have to be there for him when he’s home. While Will may be Jonathan’s brother, he’s also your brother’s best friend. You get up and head into the kitchen, long familiar now with its layout and usual contents within the fridge, and quickly prepare the ingredients for spaghetti. It’s a simple meal, but Jonathan and Joyce need to eat. Once it’s all laid out, you return to the living room and tap on your friend’s shoulder. 

“Hey, I have to head out now to check on Dustin, but I just put a pot of water on the stove along with some noodles on the counter. I also cut up some vegetables and put them in the fridge for the sauce. Start the meal whenever, I laid everything out for you.”

“Thank you, really,” Jonathan exhales, relief evident on his face. He hadn’t even thought about dinner, which you figured he wouldn’t. 

You bend down to kiss the top of his head. “Anytime, bee. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” 

“Just…” you linger at the door, not fully wanting to leave him all by himself. “Be careful, please.” 

“Go, Y/N. I’ll be fine, I promise.” Jonathan reassures you.

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night.

It’s brief, but the flashback punches you in the gut. You close your eyes, holding onto the image of Will’s face in the moonlight last night, and when it fades you take a deep breath and force yourself to leave. 

The second you’re on your bike, pedaling away from the house, you let the sobs that have wracked against your throat all day out. It’s messy, the tears coming down your face faster than you can wipe them away. All the fear you’ve felt is now able to freely come out. It’s not the safest way to bike home, but you know that if you hold the tears in any longer you’ll collapse. You do your best to still be alert, but apparently you fail because a BMW honks at you to avoid you hitting it. 

“Fuck!” You yank your bike to the right, having no idea that you had been on the left side of the road, and topple over. The fall isn’t anything bad, but it definitely is your final straw for the day. You lay in the ditch you’ve landed in, staring at the November sky, and let the pain from your skinned knee serve as something to ground you to reality. 

“Holy shit, did I hit you?” 

Steve Harrington stands over you, a horrified look in his eyes. 

“Unfortunately not, otherwise I’d be able to sue you and get money out of it.” 

“Uh… okay?” He offers you his hand, although still very confused. “You didn’t like, happen to hit your head or anything, right?” 

You accept his help, albeit mostly because you have to, and brush yourself off when you’re up. “I’m fine. I just wasn’t paying attention, sorry.” 

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you. 

“So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?”

Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead. 

“No,” you say, now repositioning your backpack so that you can get back on your bike. “Thanks anyways, Harrington.” 

Steve continues to follow you, even after you’ve started to pedal away. “You’re welcome, random girl I almost hit!”

You’re a bit further now, and you still feel like utter shit, but his words somehow make you laugh a bit. For a brief moment, you forget about everything, so you call behind, “It’s Henderson!” 

“That’s an odd first name!” The boy shouts after you, still following from a distance. 

“Y/N Henderson!” You’re fully yelling now, a good yard away, but you can tell that Steve hears you based on the way he begins to wave eagerly, finally stopping next to his car. Faintly you understand the boyish charm that makes him so loved by all the girls in the school; you understand why Nancy Wheeler has fallen for him.

“Bye, Y/N!” It’s faint, but you swear you can hear a smile in his voice.  

The good mood that Steve Harrington inexplicably puts you in vanishes when you near your house. Nothing has changed, yet it feels as if something has shifted. Will had been here only hours ago. You spot Dustin’s bike laying on the grass, haphazardly thrown as usual. 

Dustin is just taking off his coat when you enter, immediately running over to him to pull him into a bone crushing hug. 

“Y/N!” he squeaks in surprise. 

“Are you okay?” You know you’re squeezing your brother harder than you need to, but God. He’s safe, in your arms, and you’ve now learned that not everyone can say the same about their own loved ones. 

Dustin wiggles a bit, trying to break away from the hug, but you only pull him in tighter. “Geesh, no one died.” 

Normally you’d berate him, but you embrace his snarky comments. They’re what make Dustin so unique, his humor one of your favorite parts of him

When you don’t respond, Dustin stops wiggling around and finally accepts the situation. “I love ya too, sis.” 

You giggle a bit, now pulling away. “At least mom isn’t home right now. The minute she hears about what’s happened, we’ll be on lockdown.”

Dustin’s eyes widen. “Shit, you’re right.” 

“Lan-”

“Language, I know.”

You ruffle his hair, now feeling a bit better. Dustin is still Dustin, so maybe everything will be okay. You and your brother go into the kitchen for your post school snack, and you call your boss to inform her that you can’t make it to your shift. The words “family emergency” catch in your throat a bit, and Mrs. Waters is kind enough not to push it.

Dustin catches you up on his day, informing you about Hopper questioning him and the other boys. 

You scrunch your nose at that. “Is that even legal?”

“Unsure, but it was awesome.”

“Will went missing, Dustin. It isn’t ‘awesome’.”

Dustin tilts his head at you. “Well, I bet Will is going to have a blast hearing everything when we find him.” 

His words are so matter of fact, as if he already knows that Will will be found after all. His naivety worries you a bit, but you also can’t help but indulge in his hope as well. Then you think about what he’s just said. “Wait, who’s ‘we’?”

Your brother pretends he can't hear you, miming at his ears. “Dustin-”

“What?”

“Dustin, you and the boys can’t just-”

“I can’t hear you!” He’s running to his room now with you quick behind his heels. 

“Dustin, I swear to God-”

“I gotta do homework, Y/N, bye!” He slams the door in your face. 

You sigh. There’s no getting through to him, years of being Dustin’s older sister has taught you that, so you go into your room instead. You might as well get started on the assignments you missed today, and you have a huge chem test tomorrow, so you’ll focus on that and keep an ear out for Dustin. Whatever he’s planning with the boys, you won’t let them do it alone. 

After a couple hours of silence from Dustin’s room, you decide to call Jonathan. The line rings for a while with no answer, and eventually you give up. It makes sense that he’s not answering, he’s had a long day. You hope he’s asleep, but you know him better than that. He’s probably holed up in his room, trying to distract himself like you are right now. 

A loud thud from Dustin’s room breaks you from your thoughts. Then you hear a quiet “shhh!” that sounds suspiciously like Lucas, and you immediately throw on your shoes and a jacket and march outside. 

Dustin is halfway out of his window when you arrive, and Mike and Lucas stare at you, caught red handed. 

“Guys, I think she can hear us.” Your brother says, breaking the silence. Mike scoffs at him and Lucas groans. 

You eye the three of them, unamused. “Your best friend just went missing, what the hell are you guys doing out here so late and alone?”

Dustin awkwardly finishes his descent down, finally landing on his feet with a thud. He secures his hat back on his head and goes to grab his bike. You block his path. 

“I’m serious, one of you needs to start talking, now.” 

Lucas and Dustin look at Mike, who is their unofficial leader of the gang, and he huffs. “Look, Y/N, I like you-”

“How thrilling.” You say, voice monotone. 

The boy ignores you and continues to talk. “But Will is missing, and we aren’t just going to sit around and wait. He’s our friend, we have to do something.” 

You open your mouth to speak, but Lucas interrupts you. “You’re definitely our favorite sister in the group, so you’d be even cooler if you let us go.” 

Again, you try to respond, but this time Dustin beats you to it. “Yeah, you’re like, totally cool already. If you pretend that you never saw us, that’d be great.” 

“Guys-”

“And don’t give us a whole lecture about safety. That’s all bull.” Mike says. 

“Boys!” You scream. They all fall silent, not used to you ever raising your voice at them. You’ve only ever yelled at them once or twice, preferring to be the “cool” sister whenever you can, but right now they’re seriously pissing you off. 

“Let me speak.” When no one says anything, you continue. “I’m not going to stop you guys from looking for Will. In fact, I support it-”

“You do?”

You shoot Mike a death glare, which promptly shuts him up. “Yes, I do. However, I’m not letting you guys go alone.” 

The boys all groan at this, acting as if it’s the worst thing in the world to have you tag along with them. You ignore their complaining and head over to where your bike sits against the porch. You zip up your coat, the chill from the night making you shiver a bit. 

“No arguing, or I’ll call all your moms. Ours included, Dustin.”

“Why me?”

“Look, guys. I’m proud of you for stepping up, but I’m coming with. The last time I let one of you boys go off into the woods alone…” 

The boys shift uncomfortably now, realizing how heavy the guilt weighs upon you. After a few beats of silence, Mike finally gives in. 

“Fine,” he says, pointing a finger at you. “But the second you start to freak out, you’re gone.” 

You salute Mike, hopping on your bike as you all begin to bike away. The ride doesn’t take long, since you live just off of where Will was last seen. Thunder rumbles when you all approach the crime scene, and you shudder a bit. 

“It’s going to rain, guys.” You inform them. 

Dustin looks up at the sky with uncertainty. “I think maybe we should go back.”

Mike is quick to shut down the idea, urging the others to keep going. You admire his loyalty to Will, and you figure it’s why the two of you butt heads so often. Out of the entire group, you’re the most similar to him. 

Lucas and Mike go under the caution tape first, and Dustin hangs back. You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We can go back, you know.” 

He clenches his jaw, jutting his chin out a bit. “No, Will needs us.”

Your brother puffs out his chest and follows after his friends, leaving you to take up the rear. More thunder rumbles and the rain begins to come down. You flip your hood up, thankful you remembered to grab a hoodie when leaving. 

Mike guides the way with his flashlight, then Lucas, then Dustin, then you in the back. You make sure to keep your eyes on the three boys, scared that the second you look away they’ll be gone. The woods have always creeped you out, but you push your fear down to keep them safe. 

“Will!” Mike calls out, the rain now pouring down on you guys. 

“Byers!” 

“Will, little bee!” You call out as well. He never liked when you called him that in front of the others, but tonight was an exception. 

“I’ve got your X-Men 134!” Your brother bribes, unintentionally making you laugh a bit. If Will is nearby, he’ll surely come out to claim his prize. 

Your foot catches on a tree log, and you slip in the mud before just barely managing to catch yourself. It’s getting hard to see given how dark it is and the rain surrounding you. Dustin voices his concerns, only to be called a baby, and you bite your tongue. If you defend him, he’ll only look more like a baby to his friends. 

“I’m just being realistic!” He retaliates, which you commend him for. 

“Dustin’s right, guys. It’s getting really bad out here. We’re surrounded by a ton of trees, don’t they attract lightning?” You ask, now paranoid that you’ll be struck down any second. 

“You guys are being sissies.” Lucas taunts, annoyed as well. 

You try to argue, but Dustin voices a thought that’s been at the back of your mind. “Did you ever think Will went missing because he ran into something bad?”

You think back to how Hopper seemed worried when he investigated the Byers home. From what you can recall, he suspected that Will had been running away from something, explaining why he’d abandon his bike.

“And now we’re going to the exact same spot where he was last seen, and we have no weapons or anything?”

Maybe Dustin’s right. This definitely wasn’t your best idea, and you’re regretting letting them follow through with their plan. For someone who claims to want to keep their loved ones safe, you really suck at it. 

“Dustin, shut up.” Mike voices, though he now looks a bit concerned as well. 

“He’s right, Mike.” You speak up, stumbling a bit in more mud. Your shoes are definitely ruined, now. “I was at Jonathan’s when Hopper showed up, he thinks Will was running from something.” 

The boys go quiet now, and when you’re about to suggest going home, you hear rustling in the bushes. 

“Did you guys hear that?” Mike asks. 

Your heart stops as the rustling continues and you all start to twist and turn, looking for the source of the sound. The rustling gets louder, almost as if it’s getting closer, and you tighten your hand around your flashlight, ready to use it as a weapon just in case. 

Then, the light flashes upon a little girl, drenched in an oversized yellow shirt, shivering. Her head is shaved, but her small stature suggests to you that she is indeed a girl. You all stare at her, no one saying a thing. She stares back, a terrified look on her face that breaks your heart. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper. 

Her eyes land on you; something about her reminds you of Will, and  you know that nothing will be the same again.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

[stardustprompts]

vengeful  -  v.e. schwab  sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying  tw :  death , violence , language , mental health

‘what a fucking cliche.’

‘envy really doesn’t suit you.’

‘don’t you turn that knife on me unless you plan to use it…’

‘you should have let it go.’

‘you can’t just do that to me!’

‘you’ve been gone for hours.’

‘you never said I had to play fair.’

‘that’s a risk I’m willing to take.’

‘you look like a narc.’

‘it feels like dying.’

‘people have an idea of pain. they think they know what it is, how it feels, but that’s just an idea. it’s a very different thing when it becomes concrete.’

‘I did this. I did this to you.’

‘I am alive because of you.’

‘you think I’m playing god? fine, you play, (name). you decide, right now, who should live. us, or them?’

‘it’s a big world. you’re not the only one with talents.’

‘isn’t it silly to lie when we both know the truth?’

‘I think sometimes you make the easiest choice instead of the right one.’

‘make me the villain of that night, (name). wash you hands of any blame.’

‘a promise you can’t keep is just another lie.’

‘I don’t want you to save me. I want to save myself.’

‘I warned you when we met, I wasn’t a good person.’

‘killing me won’t bring her back either.’

‘think hard. we all have to live with our choices.’

‘the next time you point a gun at someone, make sure you’re ready to pull the trigger.’

‘we survived. that's what makes us so powerful.’

‘blood is always family, but family doesn’t always have to be blood.’

‘not all family is blood, right? sometimes we have to find a new one. sometimes we get lucky, and they find us.’

‘this isn’t a stupid game. it’s my life.’

‘are you used to getting what you want?’

‘hasn’t it occurred to you that I can protect myself?’

‘in this world, in my world, people get hurt. they die.’

‘people die in every world. I’m not going anywhere.’

‘you want to be more, (name)? prove it.’

‘they may think they’re kings but we’re the power behind the throne.’

‘i’m not a fucking coat, (name). you don’t get to check me at the door.’

‘where I go, you go. we’re in this together. step for step.’

‘did you always know that you had what it took to end a life?’

‘I thought it would be hard, but in that moment, nothing was easier.’

‘you were never one to dwell on the past. I loved that about you, the way things always just rolled off.’

‘every end is a new beginning.’

‘I underestimated you once. I don’t intend to do so again.’

‘the only difference between us is that you naively insist on preserving what I know should be destroyed.’

‘I played god once and it did not end well.’

‘oh no, it will never work between us.’

‘sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt, you just looked sad.’

‘while I admire how far you’ve come, the fact is, you’re tracking mud into my home.’

‘we can’t shape our past. only our future.’

‘don’t you ever wonder if it’s our fault?’

‘life is more than an equation. a person is more than the sum of their parts.’

‘normal is overrated.’

‘A\a magician doesn’t reveal his secrets.’

‘every power has its limits.’

‘we don’t decide who lives and who dies.’

‘now who’s letting their ideals cloud their judgement?’

‘how quickly we devolve. people become animals the moment they are caged.’

‘if you were superhuman, what would your power be?’

‘ignorance is only bliss if you want to get caught.’

‘i’m still here, still doing what I can, because I want to keep people safe.’

‘never underestimate a woman.’

‘I thought I could save him. I tried. but it didn’t work.’

‘power belongs to those who take it.’

‘sharks come swimming when you make a splash.’

‘that’s quite a talent you have there.’

‘I only hope you’re ready to do the right thing,’

‘you help me, and I’ll help you.’

‘everything’s got a limit. you should find yours.’

‘I don’t feel anything.’

‘oh, sorry, if you thought this was a girl’s-night-out kind of thing where we get drunk and bond, I’ll have to pass.’

‘why settle for one weapon when you can have an arsenal?’

‘the life I had is gone. there’s no getting it back.’

‘the life I had is gone. there’s no getting it back. i’d rather make a new one. a better one.’

‘I thought you were done with hiding.’

‘people can see an awful lot, and believe none of it.’

‘why sit around sulking when you could hurt the people who hurt you?’

‘let’s talk about revenge.’

‘there are limits. I can’t stop nature. can't change it’s course.’

‘whatever’s happened to you, however you’re hurt, you’ve done it to yourself.’

‘oh, I like to think I have a great deal of nerve.’

‘if you had a damn bit of sense you would have run.’

'knowledge may be power, but money buys both.’

‘sometimes subtlety is overrated.’

‘when people stay in the dark, it’s easier to make them disappear.’

‘I don’t want to survive, I want to thrive.’

‘what now? you gonna throw yourself a fucking party?’

‘if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had something against me.’

‘if I wanted you dead, you would be.’

‘whatever you’ve heard, it’s probably true.’

‘is there anyone who doesn’t want to kill you?’

‘how many excuses will you find to vindicate your own stubbornness?’

‘careful is a calculated risk. and I’m very good at making those.’

‘the truth is, there will always be someone stronger than you.’

‘you do what you can. you fight, and you win, until you don’t.’

‘once upon a time, power was determined by linage—- the age of blood. then it was determined by money—- the age of gold. but I think it’s time for a new age. the age of power itself.’

‘let me guess, I’m either with you or against you?’

‘you always preferred being predator to prey.’

‘we just have to lie low until it’s over, and then—’

‘when this is over, you and I are going to have words.’

‘it appears that we are evenly matched.’

‘it always comes down to this, doesn’t it? to us.’

[mochinomnoms]

Who do you think would be the kind of dad to take their daughter on daddy daughter dates?

My dad used to do this for me and I loved it sm, imo I think everyone should experience that kind of love from their father <3

Ideally, I think all of them, cause that's just how a father should be. Who makes it a bigger deal, though? I think it's the following:

Deuce: He has such fond memories of going out with just him and his mom that I think he'd want to recreate that. He's taking his daughter out to a cute café near the house to spend some time with her and learn about her week at school. Afterwards he'll take her to play at the park and push her on the swings, blissfully listening to her happy squeals and laughter.

Riddle: His mother caused some permanent damage to his ability to make health relationships, this is just a matter of fact. Perhaps now that he's an adult, the relationship between them as improved, but Riddle is terrified of being like his mother. So, while still firm, Riddle indulges his daughter with several daddy-daughter dates, specifically once a week on Sunday from noon to 2pm. They go out to a lovely café that serves the Clover Bakery pastries and have lunch, tea, and strawberry tarts as he listens to her talk about school, friends, and her favorite books. It's his favorite event alongside your dinner dates.

Leona: Okay, so hear me out, if he were to ever have a kid, he'd spoil the shit of them to make sure that they'd never grow up they way he did. So daddy daughter dates are totally a regular thing. He orders all their favorite foods and drinks as he reserves the game room in the royal library, where he teaches her to play chess. His daughter growing up with confidence and assurance in herself is important, so he doesn't go easy on her. But he does offer very helpful tricks and advice til the day he's proud to admit she's locked him into a checkmate.

Floyd: It's less “dates” and more of “let's fuck up as much shit as we can before your other parent gets us in trouble.” Floyd thinks it's important that his daughter toughens up, so he rough houses with her when they go out, much to her delight. They've gotten kicked out of a few establishments under the sea. Azul begrudgingly lets them in his and his mother's restaurants, where they delight in tormenting him as they eat their takoyaki. They like to have fun.

Jamil: He wants to make sure that his kids know that he loves them and cherishes them no matter what, status or no status. It's hard, feeling like your parents are more concerned about the care and emotions of your charge instead of you. So he regularly takes his daughter on little dates where she can buy little treats for just herself, vent about her duties as a servant (though she gets along surprisingly well with Kalim's oldest), and offer her cuddles in the porch swing. The last one they went on, she got a pair of snake keychains, one for her and one for him. Jamil has it on his key ring when he's working.

Vil: He's thriving, actually. Daddy-daughter dates? No. Daddy-daughter outings! He has fond memories of going out with his father, even as a busy child actor. So, he takes his own daughter to the spa and shopping, instilling expensive taste much to your disapproval. Vil thinks he's simply setting her up with successful self care habits, which you can't deny. He won't mention that she allows him to use silly kid makeup on him in the privacy of their home after their shopping sprees, though. He scrubs his face clean, but always allows you to take pictures, as long as they don't get out to the press. He has an image to uphold.

Rook: The embodiment of a simp and a girl dad, Rook is so in love with his mini-him. Cause let's be real, no matter how much she might look like you, she is a Hunt through and through. Rook reserves one of his family's more remote cabins where he can take her out hunting. He's teaching her the basics of animal tracking, wildness survival, and even shooting. They do briefly turn into family trips instead of daddy-date trips after Rook has to go to the emergency room after accidentally getting shot in his shoulder. He's very proud that his daughter has figured out the basics, but she's crying, and you're frantic. Just in case of an emergency, you tag along with first aid supplies for a little while until your daughter is more confident with her bow.

Malleus: He is SO in love with being a father. He gives no shit about what's on his calendar, if it's daddy-daughter date night, then it's daddy-daughter date night! He will take her scrolling around the gardens as he holds her in his arms and tells her about all the grotesques and gargoyles on the castle. He was so lonely as a child, so he's determined to make sure his own children never feel the same. Between him and her, they have their own Gargoyle Club that meets weekly to visit other castles and admire their architecture. He's yet to convince Leona to let them visit Pride Rock Palace to look at their versions of gargoyles.

[thorias]

So I've been thinking about how the "Saving Gambit" story is going to play out in season 2. Not much else to do right now but speculate since it doesn't look like we'll be getting any new information for a while; hell, at this rate, they probably won't even let AJ acknowledge that mid-credit scene in the finale until we've at least got a trailer to sink our teeth into.

Anyway... ideally, I'd like there to be more to it than just Rogue telling Deathbit that she loves him and then he's back to normal like magic. That's okay for Rogue, I guess, but Remy needs an arc too. And it would feel anticlimactic if it's that easy, especially after we got so gipped with the lack of Romy content in season 1.

I'd like them to build a real story around this, with the X-men trying a bunch of different ways to get through to Remy, but none of them work. I want to see Rogue try to drain the evil out of him like she did with Archangel in XTAS, only for her touch to have no effect because Apocalypse has accounted for that this time. I want to see Jean try to shut down the Deathbit persona telepathically, only for it to force her out of his mind.

I want to see them try everything they can think of to bring Remy back and fail every time until it all seems hopeless... and then hope arrives from an unexpected place.

We're getting into fanfic territory here, but we don't have much to go on for the time being, so screw it. Here's how I'd write the thing...

Archangel shows up to help the X-men with Apocalypse/Deathbit, giving them some new insight to go on. He explains how Apocalypse turns mutants into Horsemen; what it feels like and whatnot. Maybe it's a psychological thing where Apocalypse burrows his way into a person's subconscious and plants a seed that grows into something dark and twisted, which warps how that person thinks and perceives the rest of the world.

I see Archangel describing it as Apocalypse sifting through every memory and experience a mutant has ever had, looking for their absolute lowest, most vulnerable moment, when they feel utterly alone, hopeless and are most in need... and in that moment, Apocalypse appears to them (in their subconscious) like a savior and offers them a hand.

Them taking his hand symbolizes them surrendering to his influence and allows him to set up shop in their head, so the Horseman persona can take over. So if the X-men want to save Remy, they're going to have to deprogram him by getting inside his mind and finding that moment, so they can stop him from accepting Apocalypse's offer.

So maybe the X-men have to fight Deathbit to immobilize him. This gives Xavier an opening where he'd use Cerebro to boost his telepathy enough to get through Apocalypse's mental defenses, so he can take Rogue, go inside Deathbit's mind and start poking around in Remy's memories.

This is where Remy's arc can come in because they can do a lot of cool character stuff here. They start by looking at his childhood. Maybe they see him as a little kid in an orphanage (pre-thieves guild) with the nuns who run the place calling him "le diable blanc" and trying to beat the devil out of him. Then, after the beating, Apocalypse appears to child Remy and offers his hand... but Remy turns away.

They see teenage Remy having just run away from Belladonna and the thieves guild, having to leave his home, his first love and the only family he ever had. He's alone, miserable, heartbroken... again Apocalypse appears and offers his hand... and again Remy turns away.

They see Remy in Paris with Genevieve Darceneaux and her winding up dead simply because Remy Lebeau entered her life. As he stands over her grave, feeling guilt-stricken and heartsick, once more Apocalypse appears, offering him salvation, to free him from his self-loathing... and once more Remy turns away.

You know where I'm going with this, right?

Finally, they end up at the Genoshan gala on the night of the attack. A heartbroken Remy watches Rogue dance with Magneto, but can't stomach it and walks out. He sits alone outside, feeling utterly desolate, wondering if everything he thought him and Rogue had meant to each other was all for nothing.

One final time, Apocalypse reaches out... extends his hand... and in his despair... Remy takes it. That's the moment they have to stop.

The rest pretty much writes itself. Rogue jumps in between Remy and Apocalypse. Maybe there's a psychic battle with Xavier keeping Apocalypse at bay while Rogue tries to get through to Remy, finally telling him what really happened, that she'd actually rejected Magneto, realizing that Remy was right about what they have being "deeper than skin," but his self-loathing rears its' ugly head and he refuses to listen to her.

So finally, Rogue does what fans have been waiting for for 6 seasons, across 2 different cartoon series and 3 freaking decades: She finally tells him that she loves him... and she kisses him (they're on the psychic plane, so they don't have to worry about her powers hurting him here).

Maybe Rogue has gotten through to Remy and maybe she hasn't. His reaction is ambiguous, he still seems confused...

Xavier can't hold Apocalypse back anymore. Apocalypse confronts Remy and offers his hand again. It looks like Remy is reaching out to take it... but instead, he hands Apocalypse the Queen of Hearts card, which explodes in his face.

Apocalypse's hold over Remy is broken, the Deathbit persona is gone.

If they wrote something like that, I'd be pretty happy. But given how season 1 turned out, I'll probably have to lower my expectations.

[lemotmo]

To the Nonny who posted an ask about...

... how they think that Buddie shouldn't happen in season 8, but rather in season 9.

Okay, look. I read your ask and I understand where you are coming from. I get your frustration. I do.

None of us really expect Eddie to jump out of the closet in episode 1 and shack up with Buck in episode 2? You know? Sure, we joke about it, but we all know it's going to take some time.

I understand that you, as a writer, want to see everything developed and treated with caution. I get why you don't want the Buddie narrative to be rushed. I do. In an ideal world, I would happily sit down and watch two seasons of a very obvious Buddie build-up. I think most of us would, because the 'Will they? Won't they?' of it all? Delicious.

But we also need to be serious here. This is 911. This show is filled with underdeveloped narratives and very flawed character arcs. Realism isn't very high on their priority list. It never was.

This is the show that had Buck realise he was bisexual in one single episode and he didn't even flinch.

This is the show that had Eddie on the path to healing, but then decided he should meet his dead wife's doppelgänger so they could take away his son in the end.

This is the show that has Athena running around playing Robocop, threatening people as she, and she alone, solves all the crimes and murders in LA. Yet she gets to keep her job without any problems.

This is the show that had Bobby dead for 14 minutes, but two weeks later he was walking into the 118, smiling and hugging the others, as if he had had a minor cold and he was coming back from a week off sick.

And yes, Eddie (and all of the other characters really) has a lot of issues and realistically this would take years of therapy and working on himself, but we all know it'll only take a few episodes for him to feel better again. Cue Christopher returns home and all is well again in the Diaz household. Happy times.

It is all far from realistic, but fundamentally that's the nature of this show. It's a silly, wholesome, found-family, sometimes nerve-wracking, highly unrealistic fire fighter procedural.

And that's the whole point of it. The audience love this show because it is so ridiculously over the top. The episodes with the disasters are so iconic! These characters go through the craziest shit and always end up being okay again. It's a big old dose of the found-family trope that everybody loves to watch.

So ultimately, I don't fully disagree with you. You have a great point. And for some other more realistic procedurals? I might even have fully agreed.

But for 911? Knowing this show and how they do things? I'm fully convinced that, if they wanted to pull off queer Eddie and canon Buddie in one single season? They could and they would.

They wouldn't go there right away, because they would need to build the tension. 18 episodes is enough for them to take that tension and use it to elevate the hype. And then in episode 18? BOOM! They drop the 'fully canon' Buddie bomb for real. This way people will go into the hiatus all hyped up, which is always a good thing for a TV-show.

If they decide to not drop the 'fully canon' Buddie bomb in season 8, I do fully expect them to make it canonically absolutely clear that Eddie and Buck are in love. Again, all to create hype during hiatus.

In the end, does it really matter how and when it happens? Whatever the showrunners and writers decide upon? All we, as an audience and as a fandom, can do is accept it and go with it.

And you know what? I'll be seated and transfixed in front of my TV-screen for all of it.

What can I say? I love this flawed, but awesome TV-show so much. ❤️

[cybercl0ne]

Mine. // Stalker Shigaraki x f!reader // Part: 1

Summary: shigaraki has you in his arms and doesn’t plan on letting you go.

TW: 18+, stalking, non-con (rape), knife play, mentions of breeding, size kink

You wake up hazy and not in tune with much of anything. It’s pitch black and the atmosphere feels cold and thin. You frantically tried to remember the events that led you to this predicament but came up short when you blanked.

“Finally, you’re awake. I started to think I gave you to big of a dose.” A voice echos. You move your head in an attempt to identify the scratchy par-asocial voice. When you head the small chuckle the mystery man let out your mind glazed through the horrors that you forgot. You tried to move your arms and legs but quickly found out that they were bound. You mustered up your pride and opened your lips to beg.

“please just let me go. I won’t tell anyone anything. I’m begging you-“ you plead, rambling unknowing what the intention of this man was. Your face felt sweaty with fear as you felt the man’s hand graze your body. His hand tracing your collar bone, slowly traveling down your sly, clothed breast and down to your sleek calves. You shivered unintentionally under his touch, his slim cold fingers still feeling present on your skin.

“I’ve waited so long to have you. 2 years darling…~” the man says, lowering his fingers to uncover the blindfold that was attached to your face. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness you say clearly of the man’s features. His blue and frizzy hair that looked unkempt, his slim appearance with an ounce of lean muscle, defined enough. “W-why are you doing this?” You cry out, looking for sympathy in the situation. But when you say the way his eyes were shielded by hearts and sinister thoughts you knew there was no sympathy to be given.

“To be honest I’m not so sure myself. I saw you one day and knew you were different from everyone else. You had a spark that ignited something in my dim world. I’d only been in your presence for a second but it felt as if I’d known you my entire life.” He rambled, his tent in his pants growing as you squirm to get away from this all to creepy confession. You swear you saw him drool as he confessed, his face locked on yours.

“I know this isn’t ideal but it’s something that we’ll work on together, and maybe soon you’ll even warm up to your new life, then we can start our family. Oh I can’t wait to stuff you full of my cock and breed your cunt.~”

you shiver on the last part, your eyes growing but as you realize your situation. You looked around for any sign of life. You screamed as loud as you could, tugging and fighting against the hard restraints. Shigaraki rushed to close your mouth, wrapping the blindfold over your mouth.

“Darling I know this is a hard adjustment but trust me when I say screaming is not in your favor. If you wanna make it through our first time together without losing your tongue I strongly suggest keeping that voice down.” He warns, flashing his knife to your face. Your wide eyes trace it, mewling and whimpering as it drew closer to your cheek. you tried to protest as best you could, only gurgling nonsense through the gag in your mouth. “I’ve wanted to touch your precious body while you were awake for so long baby.~ I promise we’ll have lots of fun.” He says as he traces your chest with his lips. You whimper under the weird sensation of skin to skin, as you try to wriggle away. For the moment you completely ignore the fact that this man is responsible for all the weird and unexplained events that happen in your life that you always quickly dismissed. You squirmed harder, yelling muffled curses at him as tears fell down your face. “I wouldn’t be so quick to move.” He warns, bringing his knife with his lips as he moves to your supple breast, kneeding your nipple through the cheap thin fabric. You continue to whimper and fuss under the gag, it getting darker as it collects stray spit.

“it’s so lovely to hear you sing whimpers for me~ I want to take your gag off? Can I do that darling? Can I trust you’ll be a good girl and not scream?” You don’t respond as you continue to mewl under his touch, feeling and watching as he closes in on your pussy. Shigaraki unwraps your gag off your mouth, his face leaning into yours as his fingers glide to your wet panties.

you shake your head, closing your eyes in embarrassment, not wanting to see the man’s face as he smirked. “All for me baby? Your all soaked for me? I’m flattered.” He snickered as he took off your clothes, your bottom half coming off first, your upper half growing goosebumps as he shook it off of you. He slipped your homemade gag off in the process.

“p-please don’t I-I’ve never done anything like this before…” you whisper, your face feeling heated as you admit it. If Shigaraki could he would cum right now, the only stopping him is that he was saving it for you. So much of his cum wasted on his hand when it could be inside your body, a piece of him with you no matter where you are. Not that you’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.

“don’t worry we’ll go nice and slow~ at least I’ll try.” He added, whisking his fingers over your unprotected pussy, your slick coating his finger as he pushes it past your barrier. You arch your back instinctively, his long fingers reaching places you wouldn’t have thought they could go.

“I knew you’d like my fingers darling, I’ve seen the way you masterbated. Never being truly fulfilled by rubbing your poor clit. You need someone to satisfy you.” He ranted. Your pussy only grew more wet as he explained while thrusting his fingers in and out of you. “p-please… I-I don’t want it!” You begged, huffing as you pleaded, your body betraying you as a wet spot grew on the bed.

Shigaraki laughed, adding another finger in while thrusting his thumb onto your clit. You screeched, moaning for him to stop. “You know you can’t deny me! It’s what your body wants. You might be spewing no but your body tells me what you really want. What you need.” He monologues, giving your pussy a strong slap. You both listen to how your cunt squirts a small amount. You feel your stomach coiling as his hands speed up, your cunt squeezing around as he hits plush parts of your organs.

“I-I can’t hold it any longer! I-I’m gonna-“ you groan, closing your eyes tightly as you squeeze against his hand feeling yourself lose control. “yes baby, that’s it, cum on my fingers like the happy slut you are.” He says, placing his face close to your cunt to get front row seats to your cum. You rut your hips into his fingers as they ram their way in and out of you. As you arch your back you release, squirting hard over his fingers and face. You stick your tongue out as your mind goes blank. You’d never felt that way in your life, you saw mini sparks flying through your vision as your clit throbbed. Shigaraki happily slurped any parts of you he could catch, cunt hungry as he went into your pussy to suck and prod at your pussy for more of your sacred juices. You moaned, trying to shield them with your hand over your mouth, your cunt hitting his mouth heavily. “It seems like your sweet pussy wants this.” He chuckled under his breath, lapping up the last of your juices. You flinch as he gives your lips a hard smack, your slick bouncing off of your needy cunt as it clenches around nothing. “P-please just let me go… I-I promise I won’t tell anyone if you let me-“ He quickly hushes you by pressing his lips on yours.

“Darling why would you wanna leave now? The fun’s just starting. This is just the beginning of our new life together!~” He rambled, kissing back down your body as he stroked his cock above your pussy, his pre cum dripping down your stomach. You observed his dick, watching as it twitched while you made consistent eye contact. Your eyes grew wide as he leaned his tip into your slit, lining it against you. You felt the small yet tense pressure as he gently pressed it against you. “N-no way! I-it’s not gonna fit!” You shrieked, wriggling around. Shigaraki pressed his hand down on your thigh, gripping you in place. “It’s bigger than it looks. I’ll make it fit baby, don’t worry you just lay down and keep crying tears for me~” he teases, stroking your face with his available hand. You shook your head, groaning at the tight intrusion as Shigaraki starts plowing through your cunt.

You arched your back, feeling your body set on fire as he kept going. Your eyes could shed tears fast enough as shigaraki finally bottomed out, finally inside you. You panted hard as Shigaraki paused for a quick intermission, taking the time and to kiss up and down your face, peppering you in praise. “You’re doing so damn good, taking my cock like a good girl. I told you it would fit baby, don’t you see my cock bulging your stomach, twitching just for you? Isn’t it beautiful?” He questions, staring at you smiling as brightly as possible while you closed your eyes and begged for this all to be some really fucked lucid dream. The searing pain went slightly down, your wincing slowly turning into neediness. Shigaraki took note on your reaction and took it as a sign to continue. “Is my cock hungry whore desperate for more? I guess all that begging was for foreplay.” He adds, coming close to your ear, rutting gently in and out of you, your stomach squeezing at every vein that hits past your walls. Shigaraki bends down to your face, kissing you passionately, also taking the advantage to thrust. You moan into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue as he locks his lips with yours. “Does it feel good honey? Do you like your lovers fat cock ramming inside you?” He playfully teases, pulling all the way out before slamming back in with a speedy pace. You cry out, for what you can’t be sure anymore. At first it was about being let go but now your mind was blank and the only thing stopping you from passing out from the rough pace was shigaraki’s soft yet menacing voice, scratching at your ears in the right place. You nod hesitantly, tears blinding you from clearly seeing his face. He grunts, his cock twitching as if he’s about to explode. “I said…” he winded up, pulling out of you and rubbing his tip on your clit, his twitching rose colored tip glazing your bruised hole. “Do you like my cock ramming inside you?” You wriggle to purposely pop his cock where it belongs, only to look desperate. You whine, feeling your close climax winding down, your cunt clenching around nothing. “Say it baby so I can stuff your pretty cunt~” “Say it so you can cum with me…” He glares, waiting for your words to fall from your lips, his red eyes blazing down on you. “Y-yes! Yes I love your big fat cock ramming into my little cunt!” You give in, swallowing your shame for sweet release that awaited you. Shigaraki made no attempts to hide how pleased he was with your lewd confession, slowly yet happily sliding his cock deep in your cunt, easily gliding to your cervix. You arch your back, the tense shock of intimacy driving you mad. Shigaraki loses control, feeling your neediness for him drove him over the edge as he grips your thighs, taking a bite of them as he pounds you crazily. Your tits bounce around so hard you get fearful they might come off. Shigaraki kisses praises into your collarbone, biting and licking it, leaving his mark as he feels himself drawing close. “g-gonna cum…g-gonna cum again!” You scream, clenching onto his shoulders, looking down at your pussy getting demolished by the fuck machine above you. “Shigaraki! D-don’t stop! God so good!” You say, your nerves sensitive as Shigaraki grunts, his eyes filled with desire as he dives for your perked breast, biting the hyper sensitive nipple.

“gonna cum to baby, cum on my cock. Go on, cum for your man!” He shouts, feeling himself drive over the edge. You cum, closing your eyes as they spark. He follows close behind, slamming on last time as deep as he can inside you, unloading his cum. You touch your stomach, tired and fucked out, you feel the warmth that burrows inside you as shigaraki slowly pulls out, his cock still twitching. He lays beside you, wrapping his arm around your naked body, his other hand holding your waist tight. “So fucking good, you’re such a good girl…” he whispers, kissing your hair, falling asleep.

As you come down from your high, your heart goes back to sinking, your pussy inflated with cum that’s still dripping out, and your mind a jumbled mess. You stare into the darkness, deciding that you’d wait a couple of minutes, hell, hours for him to fall asleep before you try and get up and move.

The clock shined bright, 6:00 A.M, the only thing in the room with light. You slowly got up, plucking his hand from your body carefully. Shigaraki rustles, grunting as he tightens for a second. His face growing into a scowl before he transitions back into a peaceful rest. You sigh a short lived breath of relief, not wanting to think about the consequences if he found you doing this. You got up, walking. You didn’t know where you were walking to. You didn’t even know if you were in an apartment anymore, you did know you needed to keep moving. So that’s what you did. “If I can just find anything…” you whispered to yourself, a sad attempt to soothe your fears. You felt like you were walking on pins, taking any wrong step could result in him waking-

“going somewhere?” Shigaraki said blank. His voice was flat and surprising. You jumped and didn’t dare look behind you, knowing whatever face he was making, he wasn’t gonna be any happier to see yours like this. He doesn’t wait for your reply, instead gripping your hair rough and clicking his tongue, disappointed. “Y/n I’m not new to this. I’ve stalked you for a long time now, you don’t think I wouldn’t notice that you weren’t sleeping? I’m almost hurt more by the fact you’d try that on me more than I am about your little “attempt” to leave me.” You kick and scream, shouting every curse in the book but he doesn’t respond, only gripping your hair tighter and dragging you down the hall. “I was just getting a drink! I-I wasn’t leaving! I-I needed to pee really bad I-“ He cuts you off, throwing you in a room. It’s almost as dark as the one you were just in, the only light that sourced you was the natural light of the sun that beamed through a very small window. “When you’re ready to behave and come out with a changed attitude we’ll try again. Until then, I’d recommend getting better at tricking me, don’t worry you’ve got a few days to practice.” He says, closing and locking the door quickly before his quiet footsteps leave you alone.

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