#i like the idea of mike getting drunk and asking will about the painting

[stardustmadness]

Will was really beginning to regret the idea of letting Mike convince him to come to this stupid party. It was too loud, there were too many people he didn’t know. He would never have indulged this idea even on his worst days, but after his break up with El, Mike had been brooding for the past few weeks. He wouldn’t listen to Will’s reassurances about how it would be alright, how they would be together again like they always did. Will would begin to start on topic only for Mike to completely shut him out for awhile afterwards.

Will was forcing his way past the swaying bodies. It was late, he had to find Mike and get them both home. Even in the breezy coldness of October the inside of this house was hot, Will could feel sweat trickling down the back of his neck. “Yo Zombie boy”, he heard a random voice call out, he ignored it and moved past the living room still looking for Mike.

He didn’t care about the names much anymore, nowhere as near as five years ago. They have stopped inflicting the pain slowly through time. He didn’t let his thoughts stray too far, it really wasn’t the time to delve into bleak thoughts. He had to find Mike.

He turned to climb the stairs and then he saw him sitting under the staircases mumbling along to some unintelligible version of five years. Shit, he was plastered. Will bent and picked him up by his shoulders trying to get him to stand up. He dragged Mike through the hallway towards the gate. Mike was still singing but now a few muffled sobs interrupted Bowie. A sophomore scoffed, his mouth twitched to say something but Will shot a glare at the boy and his smirk dropped and he turned away.

They finally got out of the clamped house. Will breathed in the cool, sharp autumn air. Will got Mike into the car, strapped in his seatbelt, he was about to turn the key when Mike whispered suddenly “Why did you lie?”, Will turned to find Mike was looking at him, his eyes glinting with something more then the traces of tears. “I don’t know what you are talking about, hey it’s late let’s just get home”, he said softly trying to calm Mike down. This has been a long night Will thought to himself. There was a brief uninterrupted moment when they were looking at each other. “About the painting.”, Mike started. Will caught his breath, his pulse quickening. He couldn’t know that, his mind spiraled back two years back, when he had come as close as he could have to being honest with Mike about his feelings. It was ironic that it was the first time he had lied to him.

“El told me she didn’t commission it; she didn’t even know about it. Why did you lie? You never lie to me Will.”, He said the last part in barely above a whisper looking at him with that look that unnerved Will every time it hit him. He couldn’t lie again, not when Mike was looking at him with those steady, bright eyes and he didn’t want to look away. It was rare to see Mike like these days, it made will think of when they were kids, it was a bittersweet longing for the past.

“Was it just the painting? Was everything about me being the heart you? Did you just make that up to reassure me?”, Will cut him short, “It wasn’t just to reassure you.”

“It was all from you?”, there was a faint trace of hope? Will would never let his heart hope, it was stupid so clearly stupid when they were always going to be friends, best friends. But in that moment Will heard the hope, the longing in Mikes’s voice. He finally tore away from Mike’s enthralled gaze, looking down he mumbled just loud enough for Mike to hear “Yes.”

[stop-talking]

How do you think jhutch characters would handle a baby?

I'm not quite sure if you're asking "what would they do if you handed them a baby" or "what would they do if you told them you're pregnant" but I'm gonna assume you meant the latter. (feel free to send another request if I got it wrong)

Ranking Jhutch characters from worst to best fathers:

Billy

☆ Would play dumb when you hand him the pregnancy test.

☆ "What's this? Oh, you're pregnant? Can't be mine. My pull-out game is too strong." (literally has NO pull-out game, refuses to use condoms because he "can't feel" with them on)

☆ Basically ghosts you until the paternity test proves it's his. Then he actually ghosts you.

☆ Drops off the face of the fucking Earth for years. Doesn't pay a dime in child support.

☆ Maybe he comes back like 3 years later drunk and demanding to see "his" kid idk. Literally the worst.

Derek

☆ Honestly I headcannon he had a vasectomy at like 24-25.

☆ His mom hit him up once she heard about his prostitute scandals and chewed him out. Gave him "the talk" even though he's a grown ass man... finally got him to get snipped when she brought up the possibility of paying income-based child support for 18 years.

☆ Assuming he doesn't have one, though...

☆ He'd initially be mad and blame you. "I thought you were on the pill!!"

☆ Then he'd be like "Is it too late to... you know... get rid of it?" (and kind of dance around the subject because he's too much of a wimp to just say the word abortion)

☆ Wallace and his mom would both force him to get his shit together and apologize. Eventually he'd come to terms with the fact he's gonna be a dad.

☆ He'd be the kind of bastard to throw an over-the-top gender reveal party. The kind that burns down half of California or pollutes a major water channel.

☆ I think he'd be a really good girl dad. He'd let her paint his nails and stuff. Spoil her. <3

☆ He would treat a son completely differently. Teach him to "be a man" or whatever when he's still learning to walk. Force him into random ass sports.

☆ He'd have them mostly taken care of by a nanny. That's probably how he was raised, anyways. Derek Danforth is NOT changing a diaper.

Futturman

☆ Whether we're talking pre-show or post-show, he'd freak the fuck out if you handed him a positive pregnancy test. I'm talking full-on pass out.

☆ Pre-show Josh would be like "Babe we can NOT afford a baby I literally live at home with my parents and work as a janitor."

☆ His parents would be so crazy supportive though. They've been hinting that they want grandkids for YEARS.

☆ They literally clear out a room IMMIDEATELY after hearing the news and offer it to you to use as a nursery.

☆ His mom buys you more baby clothes than you could possibly need. His dad builds a crib from scratch.

☆ Overall Josh is stressed asf but he does his best to be there for you, and his parents are OVERWHELMIGLY supportive.

☆ Post-show Josh, on the other hand, doesn't have that support. But he's survived unspeakable horrors across multiple dimensions, how hard could a baby be?

☆ Extremely hard, apparently. One day he just loses it and makes a huge decision without asking you.

☆ "Josh WTF happened to our savings??"

☆ "TRUST ME BABE we need to invest in Apple!!"

☆ You're pissed but it pays off in a few years and you're both able to live comfortably.

☆ Then in 2015-ish he did the same thing again, pouring all your savings into bitcoin. This time you SWEAR you're going to leave him, but it all pays out in the end. He gets your kid through college with that money.

☆ Overall he's a really good father, too. He had great parents, and even if he's not experienced with kids, he's naturally a very caring and attentive person.

Mike

☆ Cries when he sees the pregnancy test. He's not even sure if it's happy or sad tears.

☆ Gets sick to his stomach overthinking about how he's going to be a terrible father. His dad walked out on him, so he has literally no idea how to act.

☆ Abby, on the other hand, is absolutely delighted. She's always wanted a "little sister". Mike has to remind her that technically it's her niece. Or nephew. There's no guarantee on the gender yet.

☆ Eventually he comes to terms with it all. He's taken care of Abby for ten years, he isn't completely clueless.

☆ Takes you to all of your Dr.'s appointments, checkups, etc. Holds your hand. Makes all of your weird pregnancy cravings and doesn't judge.

☆ After the birth, he lets you rest. Nearly works himself to death trying to take care of the baby all on his own because he wants you to recover.

☆ I'm talking getting up bleary-eyed at 2am every night to microwave some formula and feed the baby. After working a 10 hour shift.

☆ Pulls the "I have a baby on the way" card at work in an attempt to get a raise. It works, thankfully. (In the novel version of the movie; it says he gets a job as a contractor at the end. So hopefully he can afford a kid...)

----------♡----------

[Remember: these are just MY headcannons. If you think differently that's fine. I didn't include Clapton because he's literally in highschool... and we all know Peeta is an amazing father.]

[begginmonty]

being alison's younger sister and seeing the ghosts:

(this is a fem!reader but lmk if you want gender neutral stuff too, also this is rlly long sorry i got so carried away)

(what event that led you to die for a bit and come back alive is up to you - car crash, falling over etc)

seeing ghosts is something that you’ve always dealt with ever since the accident but you've never told anyone, in a fear of being seen as unfit or crazy, y’know? so you’ve always kept it to yourself 

and that is until you move into alison and mike’s big home after some money troubles (which you’re ever so thankful for) and as soon as you get out the car you see a group of people from different ages behind alison in the doorway

you’re trying ever so hard to ignore them when seeing alison again and her welcoming you in, but it kinda slips when you look towards thomas who has made some sort of romantic comment towards you and both alison and you look to him but alison catches you and is like ?!??!?!

“y-you can see them too?” alison asks and you really don't know what to say, there’s a silence before you just nod and you’re like “yeah. yeah i-i can, yeah” and then you explain everything to her and she tells you her story

when mike finds out you can see the ghosts too, man poor guy feels so left out and is like this is so unfair :((

a week or so pasts and now everyone knows each other and you’re all friends :D

alison is now happy and more comfortable as thomas no longer directs his comments to alison but now you, which you really don't mind at all and sometimes you’re honestly quite flattered

the captain quickly becomes one your best friends and he likes to be around you a lot as you listen to him and all his war stories and never shut him out, you enjoy his company and he really loves your company (he will never admit it though) but he feels comfortable around you

you like to go on walks around the grounds with him and just listen to him speak about whatever and such, just enjoying his company. you know he’s got a lot of feelings all bundled up inside and you catch onto his secret quickly, you let him know you’re always there for him if he needs

you always join in on the ghosts meetings or the talks they have set up for everyone - kitty always makes sure you sit next to her

kitty loves you a lot - often when doing your makeup or painting your nails you ask kitty what colour goes best and sometimes you even pretend to paint her nails or do her makeup telling her how beautiful she looks

people dont include humphrey a lot but whenever you do find his head you talk to him for a while and ask if you can do anything for him. sometimes you wish you could pick him up and carry him around, and keep him company more but you can't :( but he always appreciates when you sit with him for a bit

one night you find him on the roof and so you sit with him for a bit, looking at the stars and just telling him about your day and such

there’s one night where you are just having a horrible day feeling horrible about yourself and the way you look, and you’re sat staring into yourself in your vanity mirror. you’re a bit teary and just pulling yourself apart and thomas is suddenly in the doorway, and he’s like “if i may, have i told you how beautiful you are today, my dear y/n?”

and instead of jokingly telling him to go away, you smile at him, speaking softly “thanks thomas” he smiles back at you before walking off again.

but you quickly get out of the seat and rush to the corridor, “thomas” and he stops walking, his hands behind his back and looks at you before you walk closer to him, “i’d…i’d like to hear more from your poetry i-if you don't mind” 

you two spend the next hour or so walking, just listening to thomas speak and the other ghosts just kinda look on at you two and are like aweeee:(( (my heart)

falling in love with ghosts is really a not a good idea

that time where alison and mike host a party and you are all completely drunk out of your mind, and even the ghosts are dancing with everyone, well just beware because julian will be dancing with you - mostly behind you but perhaps you don't hate that.. : )

whenever you come home from work, everyone is always excited to see you and they each wanna tell you about their day etc

alison and mike go on holiday just for a week, as an anniversary gift from you, so you’re basically left to babysit everyone for the week

its an interesting week, robin nearly burns the house down, you all lose humphrey (both his head and body) for a few days and cant find him, pat hosts a song competition,,, and well one ghosts proclaims their love for you and somehow tries to kiss you well yeah we can all guess probably who

fanny often complains about your outfits and how short some your skirts or whatever are and she just follows you around the house and is like, “THAT IS NOT APPROPRIATE! NO ONE SHOULD SEE A LADIES ANKLES!”

and your simply just trying to make a cup of tea, and alison gives you a sympathetic look as fanny is following your every move

the only ghost who doesn't mind you swearing is julian. sometimes his tory-ass will annoy you and you just give him the finger and tell him to f off, and he either laughs at you or is like “what did i do?” 

the ghosts all support you in whatever hobby you have and always end up distracting you and asking you questions about it

and basically these guys are your best friends :))

if u want a part two let me know! or any request ideas for any ghosts i am down!! <3 

[octopusoptimusprime]

fic recs for the new year <3

shamelessly stolen from @bookinit02

in no particular order

a dream always the same - sevensided

i don’t think there’s a single byler left who hasn’t read this fic, but just in case … here you go

“Mike learns more about himself in four months than he has in fourteen years and comes to realise that he's fallen in love with his best friend.

A four part historically accurate coming of age story set between July and October 1985.”

35 chapters, 99k words

i’m tearing you asunder - @smoosnoom

you already know i adore every one of moon’s fics, and this is another classic, but for good reason

“ “Did I do something wrong?” Mike questions, mouth twisted in a frown, eyes less wide than they were a few moments ago, sleepiness gone. His arms stay at his sides, although his fingers fiddle with his sleeves. “What did I do wrong?”

Will frowns back. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Mike doesn’t look like he believes him. Will doesn’t blame him. “Then why do you keep leaving?”

The world ends, and then some. Mike and Will find each other again, amidst the debris and distance.”

1 chapter, 21k words

as the world caves in - @bookinit02

another author i adore. and jealous will is something to behold for sure

“So. Sobriety it is. Just a nice, sober night, all alone, waiting for Mike to get back. If he gets back. Maybe he’ll be… otherwise occupied.

Will groans and flips over, pressing his face angrily into his pillow. Stupid Will. Stupid brain. Stupid jealousy.

He’ll just sleep. He’ll just sleep, and he will not dream, and if he does he’ll forget about it. It’s fine. He’s fine. Everything is fine.

He doesn’t know which he’s more afraid of: the bad dreams, or the good ones.

—

After season 4, Mike comes back from a party drunk. Some things happen. Words are said.”

1 chapter, 5k words

undertow - @byeler

incredibly obsessed with this fic. oh my god. also, platonic madwheeler!

“Will has never had his first kiss. Mike is happy to lend a hand.”

2 chapters, 11k words

there is thunder in our hearts - @smoosnoom

LATE NIGHT BYLER CONFESSIONS EVERYBODY.

“ “Yeah,” Mike nods, but it isn’t the most convincing, and he can’t find it in him to care, in the late hour, “I was just – thinking.”

It’s not the most significant outfit, but still. Will looks nice. He’s always looked good in white.

Mike blinks. That’s – weird. That’s a weird thing to think about his best friend.

He effectively turns off his brain.

Will asks, “About what?”

“You,” Mike replies, and maybe turning his brain off was the worst idea he could’ve possibly had at nearly three a.m., Jesus fucking Christ.

Mike confronts Will about the painting, and lets a few confessions slip.”

1 chapter, 9k words

molten - melancholicslaughter

s4 infill! willel siblings! wholesome byers family!

“Will Byers likes to imagine the end of the world like this: under a red sky splotched with smog and storm clouds, and a barrage of blood-diamond hail, the ground crumbles and splits and opens into a molten sea that swallows up half of Hawkins and leaves the other half screaming, generating heat from the endless friction of their vocal chords, tugged taught by their fear like ropes holding church bells aloft. The end is all heat and stolen agency, all kinetic energy with nowhere to go but the parallel seas of red, above or below. He likes to imagine it as incomprehensible chaos, turmoil in the way the fanatics describe it in Revelations.

He likes to imagine that the end feels like something akin to heartache, disappointment, rejection, and unwanted feelings, because in the scope of his fifteen years, unrequited love is the worst kind of suffering he’s experienced- before monsters and abduction and possession- and therefore, the most apt for apocalyptic comparison.

-

Or, s4 missing scenes: Will Byers is in love w/ Mike (and he's very internally dramatic about it), Eleven does some road-trip introspection, & in Hawkins, Joyce and Will have a heart to heart (one that I've been waiting two seasons for)”

1 chapter, 4k words

i’d love to see me from your point of view - unidentifiedblackthorn

byler getting high. this is probably the fic i’ve reread the most times … ever. i’m genuinely obsessed with mike in this.

“Now that Will’s sitting and Mike’s the one that’s standing, he looks impossibly tall. Tall and lanky, and huge. He should sit back down, Will thinks, lay back down next to Will and stay in their own secluded little bubble.

“I really want to kiss you,” Mike says, and Will’s eyes snap back up to his so violently he thinks he hears his own neck crack with the force of it.

“Don’t,” Will croaks, before his brain has even processed the words. “Don’t say that.”

“Okay,” Mike says easily, still staring. And what the actual fuck is going on? Is Will hallucinating? Is the weed making him hallucinate? “So sausage and pepperoni?”

Will stares dumbly at him. “Um - yeah. Yes.”

“Cool,” Mike replies and then just turns around and leaves Will sitting dumbly in his own room.

or

Mike and Will get high on Jonathan’s weed and Mike has an amazing idea.”

1 chapter, 8k words

the evening speaks - @futureboy-ao3

i’ve talked about this fic before but i just adore it with my whole heart. i’m not usually a big fan of AUs but this is just executed and characterised so flawlessly. also, listen to the songs they play while you’re reading. trust me.

okay unfortunately it has. disappeared from ao3. i am very upset

well, if you’ve read it before, remember it i guess

everything changes, what a shame - @andiwriteordie

sort of another classic in the byler fic world, but another excellent one. s4 rewrite with a one year time gap.

“ “And us?” Will challenges. He looks Mike directly in the eye, nearly taking Mike’s breath away once again. Mike’s heart races inside his chest.

“We’re friends,” Mike says defensively. The implications of Will’s words aren’t lost on him, so for good measure, Mike emphasizes, “We’re friends, Will.”

“Yeah well, we used to be best friends, Mike!” Will shouts, and his voice cracks again.

Or:

In the aftermath of the Battle of Starcourt, Owens immediately sends the Byers and El away from Hawkins with specific instructions to not contact anyone until things have cooled down. Now, nearly two years later, Mike finds himself in California for what will either be the best—or the worst—spring break of his life.

(Aka my season 4, Mike-centric, Byler rewrite)”

11 chapters, 62k words

meet me in the afterglow - delusionaltogether

soft byler amidst the apocalypse. mike doesn’t know how to apologise (he’s so me fr)

“mike and will find their way back to each other while they wait for the world to end.”

1 chapter, 6k words

i’ll find myself in the moonlight - @byeler

any painting-centric fic i am just going to love. no question. but oh, this is incredible and devastating and everything else. also i just love anything that they write

“He looks up at him, eyebrows drawn together. “Do you not love her?"

Mike shrinks back. “What?"

He hadn’t meant to say it. He wouldn’t have, if he’d stopped to think about it for half a second. But it’s too late to take it back, and he can’t breathe until he knows the answer, and he looks at him resolutely and says, “Do you only love her because of what I said?

Something darkens on Mike’s face, twisting it into a shape Will’s never seen. “Get out.”

It’s not a no.

or: Mike and Will share a room, and Mike finds out the truth about the painting.”

1 chapter, 16k words

sealed with a kiss - @astrobei

i am so thoroughly in love with their writing oh my GOD. this fic is hilarious, brilliant, and utterly mike.

“ “Dude,” Dustin says, sounding kind of horrified but also kind of delirious with elation. “Oh my God, you like him. You like Will. Will. As in, our Will. Our best friend Will.”

“I do not–” Mike tries, even though he’d kind of just admitted to accidentally kissing Will Byers, a little, so maybe that’s an entirely fruitless road to go down.

Listen. No one should ever let Mike make decisions right after he wakes up from a nap, okay? Especially not decisions where Will is concerned. This is so not his fault.”

1 chapter, 9k words

let me steal this moment from you - @smoosnoom

i am #1 moon enjoyer it’s True. also what did i say about nighttime byler confessions !?!?!!?!?

“Mike moves in his bed, and Will's eyes stay firmly on the ceiling. "I feel like we barely know each other anymore."

And Will can't argue with that, so he replies, "What do you want to know?"

There’s a long lapse of silence, and then –

“Can you come up here?”

In the wreckage, Mike and Will spend a series of nights together.”

1 chapter, 13k words

i might be hoping about this - @astrobei

very obsessed with them. protective mike x definitely-not-sick will. <3

“Will lets out a small squawk as Mike’s hand— his very cold, very freezing hand— finds its way around the blankets and under his sweater. “I’m sick, you weirdo,” he says, half-laughing into the side of Mike’s head, “I have a fever.”

“I don’t care,” Mike mumbles, “you’re warm and I’m cold. This is nice.”

“You’re going to get sick,” Will tries, for the umpteenth time, but it’s pointless. Mike Wheeler is stubborn and hardheaded and he never does anything halfway— not even this.

Will gets sick. He's dealing with it. Seriously, Mike- he's fine.

(or: a study in intimacy.)”

1 chapter, 15k words

you can hear it in the silence - @astrobei

very VERY obsessed. mike&robin. reunited byler. *screams*

“Will moves back to an upright position, wiping his hair out of his eyes, head and shoulders peeking above the water. “Mike,” he says, pulling Mike up with him, their fingers still intertwined.

“Yeah?” Mike says, tilting his head so the water trickles out of his ears, wincing slightly. “What is it?”

Will’s eyes dart back and forth between his, and then Mike feels his hand squeeze his own. “I don’t want you to, like, think I moved back for you,” he starts, which in and of itself would be enough to get Mike’s soul soaring straight out of his own body, if it weren’t for Will’s thumb pressed against his pulse point like some kind of mortal tether. “Because it’s not like that, I promise. But I think– I think I realized there’s a difference between things you want and things you need, you know?”

mike wheeler on losing people and having them again, the difference between wanting and needing, and finally letting go.

ft. robin buckley, will byers, and the mortifying ordeal of working in the food service industry.”

1 chapter, 36k words

-

that’s it! thank you <3 forever grateful to the authors that feed my hyperfixations :D

have a good 2023 my lovelies

[sarcasticassian]

just kinda dig the idea that all the kids/teens have had a crush on Eddie at some point apart from Dustin and Robin obviously

Mike just feels obvious? My guy is enamoured with Eddie, ‘he’s just so cool, his hair is awesome, his clothes look so good’ my favourite part though is that he fully does not realise it’s a crush and how big it is, everyone else, including Eddie, can see it from a mile away but poor Mike has no idea until he’s like 22 then he wakes up in a cold sweat one day like ‘wait, did I have a crush Eddie’

Will and El meet him after everything and poor Will didn’t stand a chance, this guy plays D&D and the guitar and he doesn’t care what anybody thinks of him and he’s just so pretty, his heart falls out of his ass immediately and he follows Eddie round like a baby duck for a month straight at one point, El also thinks Eddie has pretty hair and he lets her braid it too, he lets her listen to his tapes and he smiles a lot and always gives her a hug if she asks, her and Will get over their little crushes when they go to see Top Gun and the beach scene becomes the only thing talked about in their house until Christmas much to Hopper’s dismay

Max grudgingly admits she once had a baby crush on Eddie, it wasn’t straight after everything but maybe a few months down the line, he would play Kate Bush on his guitar for her and let her paint his nails and they’d just talk about anything and nothing and fine she thought he was cute or whatever but then she tried to teach him how to skateboard and watching him immediately fall off it brought her right out of any infatuation she had

Lucas asks Eddie to teach him how to play guitar and during one of their lessons he looks over at Eddie, who is in his element right now, and briefly wonders what it would be like to kiss him, panics that that’s weird and makes an excuse to leave, he brings up the idea of kissing boys to Steve at their next informal basketball coaching session because Steve recently told them all he likes both, he doesn’t mention that it was Eddie that sparked this thought but after that moment he never really thinks of Eddie in that way again but one time he drunkenly admits that Eddie was his bi awakening and Dustin literally never lets him forget it

Erica will never admit that she thinks that weirdo super senior is cute, it will go with her to the grave but if she got him an ammo belt as an accessory before their showdown with Vecna just because she thought he’d like it, well nobody needs to know

Argyle openly states as soon as he and Eddie meet that he’s hot and that’s that, everyone just rolls with it not knowing that the majority of them silently agree with him

Nancy and Jonathan had a full in depth conversation about how cute and nice Eddie was once when he was high and she was drunk and neither of them remember it

Steve is SEETHING when he realises that he’s competing for Eddie’s time and affection with nearly everyone in their group, like yeah half of them are children but STILL, he watches them all cling to Eddie and silently stews whilst Robin counts down to his inevitable rant about it all, Dustin, blissfully oblivious to it all, doesn’t help matters by constantly talking Eddie up like Steve doesn’t already KNOW how great Eddie is, one day he accidentally lets it slip that he’s thought Eddie was hot for YEARS so why is he having to wait in line to hang out with him and Robin shrieks, what do you mean years Steve? and Steve admits that he’s thought Eddie was cute since he was like 14 and Eddie was a mysterious sophomore that just intrigued him so much but he thought it was wrong to feel like that so he never did anything about it but now he KNOWS and you know what it’s time he goes and gets his man

Eddie is ignorant to all of this (apart from Mike, even he can pick that one up and he did help Will with the whole sexuality thing but Will is just a cutie, right?) and just thinks that everyone is super sweet and chill if you take away the whole fighting monsters thing but he won’t complain if Steve wants to sit in his lap and give him a kiss out of nowhere, he’s cute and Eddie has a little crush, sue him

[the-teddy-bear-butch]

Opinions on Max’s moms being ronance in the same way that Steve and Eddie are/were father figures to Dustin ? And if you like do you have any favorite headcanons of them?

Oh! Oh! I love Ronance being Max’s moms!!! I think about them so much

Robin:

I like to think it probably started with Max going to Robin for advice—and not in the sense of a sexuality crisis like everyone loves with Steve. Rather, Max is an incredibly smart young woman, and I just know she figured out her bisexuality pretty easily on her own, and she saw Robin and immediately went “oh, that’s a homosexual.” I could see her going to Robin, pretending to be chill about it, to get some gay mentoring, like just general survival tips for being queer in Indiana.

They absolutely bond over their shared snarkiness (not that they’d ever admit it) and terrorize Steve on a daily basis. Max takes to calling him dingus with Robin. Steve just goes “oh god there’s two of them”

When Robin and Nancy starts dating, Max shows up and slams her hands down on the counter and basically grills Robin on how the hell she bagged Wheeler. She disguises it as teasing and banter, but Robin knows it’s because Max has a huge crush on El and doesn’t know the first thing about flirting with girls.

Nancy:

Nancy and Max are a little different. Max isn’t one to admit any sort of affection for anyone, but if you think Nancy isn’t her hero, you and I did not watch the same show. She probably thought Nancy was a huge priss at first, but then she watched her immediately take the rifle in season 2, then play chicken with a car in season 3. Before she even sees Nancy saw off the barrel of a shotgun, she decides Nancy is one of her idols.

Max and Nancy probably don’t talk as much to begin with because they’re so different—but I like the idea that maybe Nancy likes Wonder Woman too, so they find a shared interest there. And if they shit talk Mike and how he treats El, well, that’s their business.

After Ronance occurs, and after Max talks to Robin, she goes to Nancy instead. Robin has some game, but we all know who wears the pants in the relationship, and Max figures it out pretty quickly. Nancy probably helps her put together a plan to ask El out, takes her to get flowers, drives her to El’s house, etc.

Ronance:

We all know Max is a skater girl, and that comes with a myriad of injuries. Usually it’s just a skinned knee or a couple of bruises, but once she manages to fully break her arm. Instead of her mom or Steve or whoever else, Max’s first call is to Nancy. She naturally shows up with Robin and they bring her to the hospital. They both sign her cast and Nancy drives her home.

Nancy and Robin get more calls after that, usually involving Max’s mom being drunk again and her not wanting to be home. She never admits this, but Nancy can read people, and she knows. Nancy will pick up Max, and often Robin too, and they’ll spend the night in Nancy’s bedroom, painting each other’s nails and watching movies. El gets invited too, once Max asks her out.

Both Robin and Nancy are so excited for Max when El and her start dating. Nancy drives them to dates occasionally. Max and Robin sit and talk about their girlfriends all the time (but no one else gets to hear it from Max).

They probably help Max to open up a bit, to relax a little. She remains her snarky self, but it’s softer and she’s less afraid to be affectionate with her found family. Nancy especially I think would recognize a little of herself in Max with her issues with saying “I love you.” I think that would be a very interesting conversation for them to have.

And if you ship Elumax (which I do, because why decide between two amazing ships when polyamory exists, plausibility be damned), Nancy probably scolds Max when she’s being mean to Lucas. “That boy loves you, be nice to him,” when she threatens to dump his ass for the third time that month. Nancy is also the only one Max goes to for boy troubles, given that Robin probably immediately went “ew, I’m not talking to you about boys, ask your other mom.”

Max calls one of them mom on accident once. She never lives it down, but she also slips into it a bit more as their relationship grows. She finds that while they’re more like big sisters, they’re more moms to her than Susan (if I’m remembering the name right) has ever been. So she starts to actually refer to them as her moms, but always in a snarky way as an attempt to keep her cool reputation, but Robin visibly melts and Nancy adores it, even if she doesn’t show it.

Monster Hunter au:

Seeing as this is happening soon, I’ll include a little tease

Max is a werewolf, but in the “lore” I’m using (for lack of a better word), werewolves don’t change until their 16th birthday. Naturally this means she already knows Robin, and Robin is there to help her through it.

Robin shows her the ropes, basically how to control certain aspects of their shared lycanthropy (ie; making fangs appear at will), how to make the full moon a little easier, the safest places to go, etc.

She also introduces Max to Chrissy, who helps with a little magic that makes the shift less painful and easier to control.

Nancy actually doesn’t clock her immediately, and Robin protects her from the monster hunters as long as possible. I have a idea for a little reveal where Max is actually the one to protect Robin though 👀

I might have gotten carried away. I love them so much. Thank you so much for the ask, anon!

[survey--s]

394.

When was the last time you did something you didn’t want to do, to please someone else? I honestly don’t remember.

If you wear mascara, what brand is it? Do you have mascara in any colours other than brown or black? I don’t really wear it anymore but the ones I own are black and I think they’re Maybelline.

Do you have a favourite outfit that you like to wear for nights out? I don’t really go on nights out anymore, ha. If we do go out for a meal or something I normally wear skinny jeans and a jumper, and then flats or boots depending on the weather.

When was the last time you painted your nails? What colour(s)? Years ago, lol. Probably purple.

Do you know what you’re going to wear tomorrow? Ugh, the forecast is awful, so probably walking gear plus waterproofs. And I’m supposed to have a riding lesson which will be great fun in the pissing down rain, hahah.

When you have a soft drink, do you prefer it in a bottle or can? Can or glass bottle. I have a weird thing about drinking out of plastic bottles.

What’s your least favourite alcoholic drink? Whisky.

Do your parents get annoyed if you go out and come home drunk? I mean, I live alone so...it’s not really something they’d know about. They wouldn’t have been too impressed if I’d done it as a teenager though.

Do you like iced tea or coffee? I prefer iced coffee.

Who was the last person to embarrass you? What did they do? I have no idea.

When you’re upset, do you tend to comfort eat or lose your appetite? Comfort eat.

Do you have a friend or relative that turns into a complete ninny when they’ve had too much to drink? Most of my close friends and relatives aren’t big drinkers anymore.

Have you ever eaten so much of a favourite food that you got bored of it? Definitely. I mean, not permanently but I go through phases of wanting to eat certain things and then getting sick of them.

What’s the unhealthiest thing you’ve eaten today? A family sized bag of salt and vinegar crisps, lol.

Who was the last person to send you a message on Facebook? Does/did that person go to the same school as you? Debbie, and no, we’re both fully grown adults.

How is your hair looking today? A mess.

What is your favourite brand of haircare products? Lately, it’s been Pantene but I go through phases.

Have you bought any alcoholic drinks in the past week? No.

Has a stranger ever offered to buy you a drink? Yeah, sure.

Do you know anyone that talks constantly about themselves and never even bothers to ask you how you are? Yeah, my old boss was like that. He didn’t like being called out on it either, lol.

When was the last time you used a public toilet? Uh, Friday I think. Or maybe Thursday.

If the last person that hurt you apologized, what would you say to them? I don’t remember who that was.

Did you go shopping today? Nope. I need to go and get milk tomorrow though.

What was the last thing that put a smile on your face? Toby cat being cute.

What is something you’d be happy to receive as a gift, that doesn’t cost a lot? Books, or wax melt vouchers.

You’re given an extra $10 and told to go and treat yourself. What do you buy? I’d probably go to one of the local cafês one day to have coffee and cake or waffles or something after work as a treat.

Has anyone ever asked for your phone number, and you refused to give it to them? Sure.

When was the last time you used someone else’s phone to text or make a call? Whose phone was it? I have absolutely no idea, probably Mike’s.

Do you have a favourite comfort food, that you absolutely must eat whenever you’re ill or upset? Not a specific food, but I always crave carbs/salty foods when I’m upset.

If you were to decide now that you wanted to get drunk, what alcohol is available in your house? Baileys, wine, vodka and probably some other bits.

What kind of music does your significant other/crush like to listen to? Dance, R&B.

When was the last time you ate cake? What type of cake was it? I had apple pie yesterday if that counts? Otherwise I had coffee cake with Susie a few weeks ago. That was good cake, lol.

Who did you have your first kiss with? Do you remember what colour his/her eyes were? A boy named Jimmi and he had dark brown eyes.

What’s the last letter of your surname? R.

In your phone’s contacts, who is the first person listed under ‘M’? What colour is that person’s hair? My husband - he has brown/grey hair.

Whose Facebook timeline did you post on most recently? I have no idea, I pretty much never do that anymore.

Are there any themes from TV shows that you like to sing along to? Friends, The Big Bang Theory, Frasier.

Kinky question time … to turn you on quickly, where is the best place to touch or kiss you? Neck.

Do your grandparents ever ask you about your love life? My grandparents have all passed away, but yes, they did occasionally.

Do you eat dessert after dinner? I tend to have dinner, then something sweet a few hours later.

Does anyone send you messages to say good morning or goodnight? No. Mike did, but we live together now so it would be silly now.

Have you ever had too much to drink and felt embarrassed about your behaviour the next day? Sure, when I was younger.

Have you ever gone into school/work with a hangover? Work, yeah.

What was the last thing your parents gave you money for? Uhhh, I honestly don’t remember. My mum paid for me beach ride for Christmas but that was a gift rather than just giving me money.

Who were the last people you had a group conversation with on Facebook? I don’t remember, I don’t really like group chats.

The last time you were in a car, who was driving? I was driving. I hate being a passenger as I get carsick.

Who was the last person you took a photo of? Uhh, Mike when we were walking the dogs on Friday.

What was the last thing that stressed you out? Mike not working.

Tell me about your last night out. Did anything interesting or amusing happen? I honestly don’t remember when that was.

Who was the last new artist you came across, that you really liked? Bailey Zimmerman.

What was the last video you watched on YouTube? A TV series but I don’t remember which one.

What was the last song you listened to, that reminded you of someone? Falling in Love by Bailey Zimmerman.

Have you ever told anyone that you were never going to speak to them again, but then you did? Sure, I was very melodramatic as a teenager lol.

How old is the last male you texted? 38.

When you go out drinking, what do you prefer to drink? I don’t go out drinking anymore, really.

What was the last thing a friend bought for you? Coffee and cake.

What colour was the last mug you drank out of? White with multi-coloured polka dots.

Do you have a collection of anything? Wax melts.

Is there a food or drink that you haven’t had before, but would like to try? Genuine Canadian poutine, chicken fried steak.

[maeve-writes]

Heroes

Pairing: Stripper!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Stripper!Steve Rogers

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI 

Warnings: Adult situations, alcohol consumption, allusion to mild cheating(??). More to be added later.

Summary: It’s your friend’s birthday and you’re dragged to the Heroes club. You’re not one for that kind of place, but you quickly change your mind after you get to play the damsel in distress for a pair of Brooklyn babes. 

a/n: Unbeta’d, any mistakes are my own and please forgive me. This is the second story I’ve written in a while. Forgive me?

You normally don’t go to these sorts of places but it was your friend’s 30th birthday and it was on her bucket list. Luckily, you weren’t talked into planning any of it, just had to toss in some cash for the fee to get in and the never ending flow of drinks, plus the very special Birthday Girl Dance package.

It took you three years after the second Magic Mike movie came out to watch the first one. The idea of male strippers seemed odd. But, when you really thought about it, so did female strippers. 

Nevertheless, the night ultimately wasn’t about you, it was about your friend and her birthday. You were happy to be there with your friends, enjoying the celebration and drinks, seeing hot guys take off their clothes was a weird added bonus.

Heroes was the club to go if you wanted to see buff dudes bare it all. Tara, the birthday girl, had been raving about it for months. She found videos of it online and shared them in your group chat. That, of course, had your other friends looking for more videos and all of them started to have their favorites.

“Girl, some of them even give private shows,” Sonya, the oldest and who was supposed to be the responsible one of your group, mock-whispered excitedly.

You tried not to roll your eyes as your gang was escorted to the front table near the stage. It was a semicircular booth where small round tables came up from the floor, big enough for drinks, but small and spaced out enough to allow for bodies to move around and in between.

Your host was a slender built guy on the younger side, barely old enough to be allowed in. He had a baby face and a boyish smile, but his muscles were well defined as the club forced him to be shirtless save for the small bow tie around his neck with a spider in the middle, and the tiny pair of shorts that cupped his rear which stayed there by what you guessed was his will or magic. Maybe both.

“Here you are, ladies,” he guided, instructing Tara to take her seat near the middle. “The name’s Peter- uh Spider-Man. I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”

That set off a fit of giggles from your friends which caused a full body flush from your waiter. His embarrassment tugged at your heartstrings. “New at this, Mr. Spider,” you asked.

His flush darkened and he rubbed absently at the back at his neck after he passed out the menus. “It’s Spider-Man,” he corrected you, “but is it that obvious?” You tilted your head and scrunched up your nose, parting your pointer and thumb a small ways apart. He laughed in return, his shoulders relaxing a little. You gave him a wink and a smile before the rest of your friends attacked the poor kid with their drink and food orders.

You felt sorry for the guy, but he seemed to have loosened up a bit since your small, playful banter and your friends ate up his boyish charm. 

While you waited for your turn to order, you looked around the club to find its sleek design, not something you thought a strip club would offer. The walls were painted black, accented by silver framed posters of the dancers. Above each were white neon lights that spelt out their Hero name.

The rest of the booths were like your own, made of soft black cushions, black metal bases which were illuminated underneath by white light. The tables that sprang from the ground were polished silver necks with textured tempered glass tops to keep drink slipping and spilling to a minimum.

Of course, all of the booths surrounded the stage, which was mostly closed off by a thick black curtain, save for the large catwalk that split half of the sitting area in two. It was wide enough to fit three large men comfortably across it, shoulder to shoulder, and from some of the videos your group shared, they had done so before.

When Peter- there was no way you were going to refer to him by his Hero name- got to your order last, you could hear other rowdy groups start to file in. A couple of bachelorette parties, a girl’s 21st birthday, and a Happy Divorce Finalization Day were all joining you. Your friends quickly became friends with everyone in the room, so even if the show sucked, at least all of you could get drunk and have fun.

“Excuse me, ladies,” a voice rang out above you. Cheers burst from the crowd and every light in the room popped out and stayed out until the room fell silent. “Now that I have your attention…” A tall, dark man walked out from the split of the curtains. He wore a wireless microphone over his ear, an eyepatch over his eye which rested just above a self assured smile. Dressed in a fitted pair of leather pants and combat boots, he strode to the center crossroads of the stage and catwalk, “My name is Director Fury. I will be introducing you to your Heroes tonight.” He paused for another round of catcalls. “And hopefully we can save you from the Villains, too.” That drew out louder screams from the crowd.

“Now, what do we do to the bad girls like you,” he paused, looking pointedly to the crowd, “we contain,” he pulled a piece of rope from the back of his pants and tossed it into a group nearby, “detain,” he pulled out cuffs and twirled them around a finger before he threw those out as well, “and entertain.” With that, the bass dropped and the curtain flew open, behind Director Fury were the Heroes (and Villains) in all of their sweat slicked glory. 

Once the Director stepped aside, the seven dancers on stage began their opening routine. Dressed in black vests and tear-away leather pants, the men paraded around the stage and catwalk to the thump of the music, pulling off pieces of their clothing as they went. The women around you went wild, snatching at whatever was tossed their way, fighting playfully for it. While it seemed incredibly silly, Tara was having the time of her life and you absently sipped at your Tequila Sunrise while you scrolled on your phone. 

The dance number finished not two minutes later with a screaming cheer and standing ovation from the rest of the already slightly tipsy crowd. Director Fury came out while the dancers disappeared into the back to get ready, he worked the crowd, mentioning the brides-to-be and promised them a very special wedding gift before the night was over. “But I heard there were a couple of birthdays here,” Fury said, looking between your group and the one behind you. “Now, I’m going to get the young gun back there in a moment, but… a little bird told me that you,” he pointed to your friend, “are a very big fan of our first Hero of the night.” 

Tara squealed and stood up, “Fuck yes, I am. God bless Captain America! ...and dat ass!”

It was obvious that Director Fury was trying to keep his composure, but the corners of his lips twitched like he wanted to join in on the laughter from the crowd. “Well, he is certainly blessed,” he replied, “and ladies, you will be, too, when you see him at full salute.” He winked and started to walk off stage, “Captain? Duty calls…”

Some sort of abomination of the Star Spangled Banner started to play, remixed with drum and bass. You looked up to see what kind of horror show would come from something treasonous as what bled from the speakers around you, you were met with over six feet of muscle covered in a fitted blue suit, fingerless leather gloves on his hands, and a round metal shield on his back painted red, white, and blue. 

The Captain’s background was what looked like a large war ship with painted ski-masked bad guys spread throughout the levels. His stage allowed him ramps and poles to move up and down, which he used freely. He used a mixture of acrobatics and dance to move across the stage, tossing the shield around, “fighting off the bad guys” and losing his clothes in the process. By the end of the song he was left in just the leather gloves and a very tight pair of shorts, much like the ones Peter wore, except the Captains had the same pattern of his shield printed across the backside. 

Tara’s screams knocked you out of your daze and you realized you hadn’t stared down at your phone at all during the Captain’s dance. You watched all five minutes of it and couldn’t tear your eyes away. Heroes wasn’t about getting drunk women horny, they wanted to put on a show, too. You clapped lightly, though it was drowned out by the cheering around you, but unbeknownst to you, it wasn’t unnoticed. 

Fury was out once again and he brought up the first bachelorette of the night. He put her in a chair on the catwalk and gave her a candy-garterbelt. Then he asked her waiter, a guy named “Ant Man”, to remove it with only his tongue, which he happily obliged. 

Peter cut off your view with another drink, one you didn’t order. “On the house,” he said with a lopsided grin and placed the red, white, and blue layered drink next to your nearly empty Sunrise. Before you could ask him who ordered it, the candy garterbelt was being tugged between the bachelorette and her waiter. It ended in a tongue-y kiss and the ladies went wild. 

“Let’s hope her future husband doesn’t mind,” you muttered and turned your attention to your phone once again. Director Fury, thankfully, broke up the awkward scene on stage and began to introduce the next dancers. It was a pair, brothers, apparently, and they worked on the good versus bad troupe. Thor and Loki were opposites in every sense of the word. Thor was a large blond with a commanding presence. He had a bright smile and sun kissed skin that looked great in his red and gold trimmed briefs. But his brother was slender, graceful - almost cat-like, with dark hair and a mischievous grin all wrapped in flawless alabaster skin. They didn’t look like brothers, but they moved around each other like they had been together all of their lives, and knew each other’s moves. 

You only caught half of their story, as you were already halfway done with, what you found out was called the American Glory drink, and half wondered if that was what Captain America tasted like. Fury was up again and had the young lady celebrating her 21st birthday take two shots and lick the salt from Thor and Loki’s still sweaty chests. 

Peter found his way in front of you again and said that someone needed to talk to you about your card being declined. You frowned and excused yourself from your friends to find out what was going on. There shouldn’t have been a problem, you got paid the day before, there was plenty of money in your account.

You were taken to a hall that connected what seemed like offices, the dressing room, and the route to the backstage. “Sorry,” Peter said sheepishly, “they said this was the only way to get you back here. Gotta go.” He waved and jogged back out to the lobby.

Confused, you were about to shout out after him when you felt a tap on your shoulder. When you turned, you faced that wall of American muscle beaming down at you. “Hey there,” he greeted, a smile almost blinding you from its perfection. “Don’t be too mad at the kid, I asked him to get you back here.”

“What,” was all you could get out. He was thankfully dressed, but his muscles were straining against the white tshirt and the gym shorts did not hide the package he carried. Even with all of that, what mesmerized you most was his eyes, sparkling blue and bright with amusement. 

“This next bit requires audience participation and he had someone in mind,” the Captain replied like he explained everything.

“We had someone in mind,” a voice corrected behind the door you two stood near. You tore your eyes away from the blond and eyed the wood barrier suspiciously. 

“Don’t worry,” Captain America laughed, capturing your attention once again, “it’s nothing too dangerous or embarrassing. You just have to sit there, pretend to be tied up, and me and Buck will dance around you.” He put his hands on his hips and tilted his head in thought, “Well, actually, you really will be tied up, but we promise we’ll let you go once we’re done.”

“Or not, if you don’t want us to,” came the voice again, which made the Captain laugh.

You blinked up at him and frowned, “What’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch,” he shook his head. “We might dance on you a little, if you don’t mind, the crowd likes it. But if not, we can work around that.” The thought of Captain America in those tiny shorts grinding on you was a very nice thought.

“‘Sfine,” you shrugged.

He beamed and reached out to squeeze you on the shoulder, his touch lingering and his thumb running along your collarbone. “I’ll let the stage team know.” Reluctantly, he dropped his hand and knocked on the door next to you both, “Five minutes.” When he heard a ‘yeah, got it’, the Captain motioned you to follow him. 

The stage crew took over and the Captain disappeared to get ready. You were told about the chair you’d be sitting in, the rope that would be tied around your chest and if you would be okay with it. There was some hesitation on your part, but ultimately you agreed. They brought you on stage, a winter wonderland of sorts and placed you on a log-like chair. The rope wasn’t tight, but it was obvious you were the damsel in distress. 

“One of you was taken,” Director Fury said from the other side of the curtain in front of you, “by The Winter Soldat. Will she survive? Will she be saved?” All of the lights turn off once again and an industrial heavy beat thrummed through the speakers, rattling your bones. Red stage lights shone down on you when the curtain pulled open and your friends lost their minds.

To your right you saw a figure stalk out of the dark, red light bouncing off a silver metal arm. A mask covered the lower half of his face, but his eyes were trained on you like you were prey. His black muscle shirt clung tightly to his chest, one sleeve missing to show off his arm, and his black tactical pants stretched against his thick thighs. You could feel the shaking of the stage from the stomps of his booted feet.

Eyes wide, you stared at him until he stopped short of your chair on cue with the music. His nostrils flared lightly before he moved again, the music flowing with him. He slung one leg over the side over your chair, straddling you. The metal arm clamped the wooden back rest of the chair and he narrowed his gaze. Lights flash around you, strobing from red to white and back again until they settle on the house lights. 

Soldat began to roll his body with the tempo, blue eyes locked with yours. You could hear the screams behind him as he dancing, but neither of you were paying attention. 

His hips circled until he’s seated on your lap, you’re practically nose to nose. He brought his flesh hand to the side of your face and you could feel it trembling against your skin. With him that close you could hear him mutter in some other language that isn’t English, you’re guessing Russian, but you’re not sure. Either way, you felt crushed by his weight and you liked it. You didn't want him to go. 

But the music changed and the lights started to flash again, red, white, and now blue mixed in. Captain America joined the two of you on stage and Soldat slipped from your lap. Just as Thor and Loki had before, these two moved around each other like they were made from the same mold. 

During the fight, pieces of clothing were tossed aside and at one point you were freed from your bonds. Soldat pulled you up from your chair and up against his chest, your backside pressed so tightly against him you could almost feel his heartbeat. He moved you with him as he continued to fight the Captain.

Until seconds before the song ended and the music swelled, the Captain landed one good blow to Soldat and sandwiched you between them. The Winter Soldier recalibrated and recognized his old friend and you. He pulled the Captain into a big bear hug and then picked you up bridal style, taking you off stage with cheers from the crowd.

Once you’re all off stage, he sat you down with a hearty laugh. “You did a fantastic job, sweetheart,” the Soldier praised, running his metal hand through his chin length brown hair. “Couldn’t have asked for a better dance partner.” Flushed from embarrassment and arousal, you continued to stare at him until you were joined by the Captain. “I told you she’d be great, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, Buck, you know how to pick ‘em,” the blond agreed with a smile.

“Thanks,” you replied breathlessly, finally coming out of your stupor. “That was… fun. I’m just going to go back to my seat now, I guess.”

“Wait,” the one named “Buck” jumped to stop you, “we were wondering if you wanted a private show?” You heard about those from Tara. You knew that they were exclusive and very expensive… and sometimes had happy endings. They seemed to sense your hesitation because they both added in unison as they eyed you up like you were a four course meal, “For free.”

“I never turn down free anything,” you shrugged. The pair turned to look at each other and their smiles turned to wicked grins. You aren’t sure what you got yourself into, but you’re pretty sure you were going to enjoy it.

a/n: Part Two coming soon... with smut!

[quirklessidiot]

title : cigarettes and parfaits [3] pairing : older!nanami kento x younger!reader [13 year age gap, ft toji fushiguro] Genre: romance, fluff, slice of life, josei, angst, comedy, strangers to lovers au

Summary: you’re pretty sure you’d remember marrying a man 13 years older than you, right?

Warnings: alcohol, smoking, mild smut, y/n making stupid decisions, everyones a human-au so yeh non-canon stuff and everyone’s happy (periODT) i keep forgeting to add that this isnt beta-rread..all of my stories arent so yeah shshs Notes: ah, i feel like this story will be lengthen more than 8-10 chapters shshshs i wanted to add a little spice anyways thanks for all the comments uwu ily all!

Masterlist || taglist || [prev ; next] [updates; every saturday!]

“Y/N-chan!!!”

You cringe in embarrassment as soon as you hear that awfully familiar and cheerful voice, you could barely remember this man and the events that transpired the night before but here he was, acting like your new best friend. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to go here but you needed clarity. Surely you didn’t just legally marry a man at an Izakaya out of all places last night?

“Oh, you actually did marry him.” Gojo Satoru proclaims as soon as you take a seat across him, he gestures around his face, “I could tell by your whole, ‘I hope this guy is messing with me’ face. You have it, signed and sealed. Even got the cute matchy rings that I had one of my assistants delivered.”

You pale at the thought of his assistant coming in with a silver ring. Wasn’t he sober? How could he not have stopped you two from doing something as reckless and stupid as this? Weren’t older men supposed to be more responsible than this?

“Why the hell didn’t you stop us?” You groaned, burying your face in your hands, embarrassment painted all over your features.

“I was just as drunk as you two.” He confessed, scratching his head, “probably even more drunk but anyways back to the topic in hand, I only remembered it when the same assistant came in and congratulated me about it. It’s good I had your number on my phone before you two bailed.”

“So you don’t really remember?”

“Bits and pieces.” Gojo grinned, this guy was a maniac, how did the serious man you met just this morning have friends like this? You probably wouldn’t even last long, “I did call Nanami-”

He’s cut off by the rough sound of someone pulling a chair out, you immediately jump on your seat when you realize it’s Nanami Kento, the guy from this morning. The man you had recklessly married!

“This better be some prank you’re pulling, Satoru.” His voice was anything but kind that you almost wanted to hide behind Gojo’s back.

“Hey, hey.” Gojo raises his hands, “Don’t look at me. I didn’t force you into anything and stop scaring your poor little partner.”

Nanami snaps his gaze towards you and you notice how his eyes soften just a bit when he sees your red ears and your eyes looking away from him, “You better call Geto and fucking fix this, I refuse to bother this young-”

“It’s fine.” You cut him off, still shy and red, “It’s...fine...I just…Please don’t think I’m burdened by it. It was technically my fault for even agreeing immediately.”

Nanami clenches his jaw and turns away, “Nevertheless. L/N-san’s young. I hope to not be such an uncouth man like you.” he retorts, voice sharp as he eyes the white-haired businessman up and down. Gojo, seemingly used to it, rolls his eyes behind his dark shades.

“Maybe you guys should try it out.”

The blonde man looks like he’s about to smite the white-haired man out of existence yet Satoru remains oblivious to his friend’s gaze, “Don’t ya think so? It will take a while for those divorce papers to settle in so why don’t you two go out and get to know each other? Who knows…” he sing-songs the last part and Nanami is so close to chunking his briefcase towards the tall businessman, not even caring 

“Ah, he’s not exactly wrong, Nanami-san.” you try to calm him down, placing a small hand on his broad shoulder.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually listening to this idiot’s idea.” Nanami replied, gaze narrowing.

“Not really but you have some problems I can help you out on and I have problems that you can help me out on...Of course, the last say is on you...”

“Told you I actually had a brain.” Satoru piped in.

“Shut up, Satoru.” he quips, then turns to you, “I’m thirteen years older than you, L/N-san. I have two high school kids that could pass off as your siblings, and-”

“Well, I technically did marry you.”

“You were drunk.”

“Doesn’t exactly really excuse it.” You laugh nervously, “The whole divorce process usually lasts up to a few months, some even takes a whole year. I could help you out with the boys and I can use you to ward my family off from moving back home.”

Nanami is quiet for a moment, actually thinking about it. Weighing the pros and the cons, not only would you be able to help him out but you’d also be able to get Gojo and blind-dating out of his back.

There really wasn’t anything he could loose, really.

“Or you two might fall in love.” Satoru teases, making Nanami throw him another side-eye, as if saying ‘I dare you to say another word.’

It’s a Thursday today and Sukuna absolutely loathed Thursdays     apparently because it reminded him of Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays. They all were far from the weekend     Everyone seems to be happier than usual though. Maybe it was because you were there teaching some basic shit at the board or something.

“...and if we transfer this here and change the positive to a negative, you’ll end up having five as your answer.” You smile, placing your chalk down, “Does anyone have any questions?”

Echoes of no’s resonated throughout the room.

“Alright then, let’s end the lesson here so you guys can have an early lunch. I don’t think an assignment is in order since many of you were able to get a perfect score in the activity awhile ago.” You winked. A couple of whoops resonated throughout the whole class right after. 

As the kids shuffle out of the room of the class, Sukuna remains behind. The ojisan had cooked them something delicious this morning and he wanted to eat it in peace without that pesky Nobara grabbing a share from his bento and Yuuji’s annoying babbles about horror movies with his best friend Junpei (the only one who was really bearable was Megumi, really)

“Sukuna-kun?” you called out, snapping him out of his small trance,  “Are you alright?”

He notices a glint of worry in your eyes, he had to admit since his transfer here last Monday, you were the least annoying teacher in the academy     the blue-haired professor in Japanese literature was absolute shit since he loved to tease him a lot and that bald-headed teacher in science who looked a lot like Mike Wazowski was an annoying twerp who loved dawdling in him and Yuuji’s business     and you were kind of good at your job. Not only did his idiot of a brother stop coming to him and their ojisan for help in math but he could actually do the worksheets right and get an actual decent grade at it.

“Yeah.” he roughly replies.

“That’s good.” You smiled, he watched as you bind their worksheets together and clip them in utmost delicacy, “You should head to the cafeteria now, I heard they’re serving milk bread today.”

Without saying anything more, you left the room, leaving him there in the silence.

Well, the Christmas tree idiot was right.

You kind of had a motherly aura on you and it didn’t even look forced.

No wonder, everyone in this room was whipped for you despite your subject being a pain in the ass.

“You look like an idiot.” You mumbled as you slapped Mahito’s hand away in annoyance, your workmate wiggling his eyebrows like the little shit he is.

You completely forgot you did have someone like Gojo Satoru in your life and it was one of your co-workers, Mahito, a Japanese literature teacher who was too nosy for his own good.

“You’ve got a ring on your ring finger and a mailman comes in and gives you an invite for Zen’in Toji’s fortieth birthday.” he whistles, “Even Jogo-sensei gossiped by the water cooler awhile ago, saying that you had eloped with the man. Not that I’m judging you or anything...”

You choke on your saliva, clearly thrown off by the backhanded comment. That darn bald-headed fool that looked like the green eyed monster from the DreamWorks cartoon, he sure needed to lay off the gossip and actually focus on his job as the head of the science department, “You’re not denying it.” Mahito stated, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, “Why aren’t you denying it?”

“I’m not dating Megumi-kun’s father.” You grumbled, finishing up your paperwork, “That man is off limits.”

“Right,” he drawls on sarcastically, “...because you have a strict rule against dating hot older men with money.”

“I also teach his kids and his cousin…” You deadpan.

“We don’t even have a rule against that.” He retorts, rolling his eyes, “If we did, Hanami-sensei would’ve been fired a long time ago.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re so secretive. If it isn’t Toji Zen’in, who’d ask you out?”

“Hey, I do have a man.” You huffed, “and he’s very kind and considerate...”

The image of the tall and lean man sleeping next to you slowly wormed its way back from your memory and you feel your cheeks start to flush. Good god, what were you? twelve? How embarrassing.

You needed to get that image off of your head, it wasn’t right.

It was all temporary, anyways and he doesn’t even see you in that sort of way-

“Yes, I’m Sukuna and Yuuji Itadori’s guardian…” a very familiar stoic voice could be heard from the nearby table, cutting your thoughts short. Wait, were you so head over heels for the man that you started imagining him here? Yuuji and Sukuna’s guardian? Wait a minute.

All color drained from your face as you snap your head behind you to find the same man you were imagining.

Oh no.

Oh no, indeed.

There stood Nanami Kento in all his glory;  crisp suit, stoic face, and eyes laced with mild worry.

“...L/N-sensei is Sukuna-kun’s adviser, by the way. It would be best to discuss this with them.” Akari somberly informed the man, turning to your direction. You don’t miss the shift of expressions when he sees you standing there.

Your mouth parts and you know you look like gawking fish trapped in a small aquarium.

“Akari-sensei’s looking at you with the new hot daddy.” Mahito mumbles next to you, eyeing him up and down, “Definitely wonder where all these old men come from these days.”

You were only half-listening to your co-worker because your head was all over the place, just what were the odds that he was the guardian of the new transferee’s? Just how awkward would everything be? Why did it even have to be at this school out of all places?

Never ending questions pop out of your head as you approached them, “Good afternoon, Nanami-san.” Your smile comes out very stiff and awkward while you hold your hand out for him to shake, clearly there was no memo on how you were suppose to act around your sort-of-fake-husband-whos-kids-you-actually-taught.

Nanami reverts back to his stoic expression as he clears his throat, “Yes, good afternoon to you too, L/N-sensei.” he greets, maintaining a straight-laced tone.

“Akari-sensei says that Sukuna has been quite...rude...in class…” you try to rack your brains up to describe his kid.

“Your son literally pointed out that the history lesson I was teaching was fake and that I should study again so he could get his tuition’s worth.” Akari looks clearly perplexed and ready to throttle the boy if it was legal. You had to admit, Sukuna went overboard with that insult.

You knew how passionate Nitta was about her job and what Sukuna just said to her was like a big ‘fuck you, you suck.’ to her.

“I’ll be sure to talk to him about this,” he sighs, bowing down, “I’d like to ask for forgiveness for that, the boy is a good and smart student-”

“Nanami-san, the school not only cares about grades but character as well.” Akari Nitta sighed, cutting him off, “I’ll let this slide once, if he does that again, it goes on the record.”

You internally bit your cheek, still trying to process everything that was going on.

“I understand. Thank you for that.”

“I’ll walk him out, sensei.” You immediately say soon after, wanting to have some alone time with him, “Let’s go, Nanami-san.”

You walk right next to him silently, some students peerlessly glancing at the tall blonde next to you but you were too immersed in thought to notice the stares, “Nanami-san?” you ask softly as soon as you reach the exit.

Nanami Kento looks at you, his eyes still laced with a bit of worry, “It’s okay.” you silently comforted him, “Just talk to him calmly.”

“That’s not the problem.” he sighed, “I just didn’t expect that the person I married would be the boy’s teacher.”

You sweat drop, “Aren’t you worried about talking to Sukuna? I mean, he literally just disrespected a teacher and you said that he and you weren’t in good-”

“It’s easier to talk to him about that rather than…” he paused, showing his ring, “this.”

You blinked.

Seemed like Nanami knew what to say about the little attitude problem his son had, “So you must be used to this?” you asked, “Him disrespecting the teacher?”

You notice the shift of expressions on his face, you had only known this man for a few days so far but he was starting to get easier to read. His eyes shed more emotion than his face, no wonder he likes wearing those funny sunglasses a lot.

“It’s something I’ve scolded him over a couple of times,” he gruffed, trying to dance around the subject, it seemed like he had such a soft spot to the point where he had a problem with disciplining them, “At times I believe it’s just because he’s way too smart for his age. The boy has read history books for fun when he was a kid and solved quadratic equations to prove that he’s better than me when he was ten.”

“It still doesn’t give him the free pass to say things like that to a teacher”

“I know,” he acknowledged, “I’ll be sure to give him a better scolding-”

“No, you see. This is why he thinks he can get away with it. He isn’t afraid of you. You’ll only probably tell him that you can’t do that.” you frown, crossing your arms, “You do know that not all sensei’s are as nice as Akari-sensei and he could get in trouble for that even more in the future, right?”

Silence lingered between you two for a moment and suddenly you realize that you must’ve said something way off the rails.

“I..” you turn red, embarrassed by the sudden outburst, “That was too much, wasn’t it?”

You look at him directly in the eye, the worry-filled ones are now replaced with a softer gaze. God, he really needed to stop looking at you like a kid. It would only make this set-up more awkward!

“No,” he mumbles, “It...It wasn't too much…”

“Oh.” you cleared your throat, flustered and looking away from his face, “Well, okay then goodbye then Nanami-sa-”

You needed to get out of this conversation quick.

“Kento.”

Your gaze snaps directly towards him, clearly taken aback by the correction.

“What?”

“We’re technically married now, right?” he softly corrected, “Call me Kento.”

“Oh,” You uttered again, this time softly. You looked down on your shoes, it seemed like the floor looked really interesting now, “Then bye-bye, Kento.”

“Bye Y/N.”

He leaves you standing there, cursing yourself because of your erratic heartbeat at the way he says your name in that voice. First name basis? okay, totally normal for sort-of lovers, right?

taglist [if crossed out, i can’t tag u ; - ;]

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@Kurok1717 ;  @hcn421 ;  @shinhiromi ;  @airybnb ; @katshuya ; ​@atsuhaya

[19tozier]

wish you were sober (richie tozier)

warnings: underage drinking, mentions of sex, angst, pining, reader is an unreliable narrator at best

inspired by the song wish you were sober by conan gray

[losers + reader are 16+]

if someone were to ask you when you fell in love with richie, you don’t think you’d be able to answer them.

was it when you met him, thirteen and wild and so magnetic you couldn’t stay away from him? was it when you followed him into a sewer, endlessly terrified but trying to be as brave as he made you think you could be? was it when you looked at him and realized he had grown up right in front of you, and you hadn’t realized? or was it all the little moments in between, the mundane and the electric all in one?

you have no clue. all you know is this: you’re in love with richie tozier, and there’s nothing you can fucking do about it.

you bring your cup to your mouth, the edge of it pressing into your bottom lip. you don’t take a drink from it; you’re already a little buzzed, and you’re reluctant to get any drunker. you don’t want to do anything you’ll regret.

across the room from you, somehow perfectly visible despite the mass of dancing bodies separating you from him, richie leans against the wall, his arm around the waist of his girlfriend, who isn’t you.

you exhale as slowly as you can. inside of your chest, your heart feels like it is poised to shatter.

it shouldn’t shock you anymore. richie has a new girlfriend seemingly every month, a revolving-door of pretty girls that giggle when he kisses them and wear his jean jacket around school but ultimately never stay long. richie never offers explanation as to why they break up and you never ask. you’re afraid of whatever it is he might say. you’re afraid of knowing you’re not good enough for him if all of them weren’t.

you sigh. you’re such a fucking cliche. falling in love with your best friend, silently pining away as if it’ll make him notice you? you’d gag at the thought if it wasn’t your life.

a shoulder brushing against yours distracts you from your thoughts, and you glance over to see stan’s expectant face. he raises an eyebrow at you. “you alright?”

you want to scream. no, you’re not alright. you don’t think you’ve been alright since before you were officially a loser. but you can’t say that to stan, not without being perfectly honest, so you arrange your features into something resembling a smile. “what’s up, buttercup?”

stan scoffs. “you’ve been spending too much time with richie.”

will it ever stop hurting, the constant reminder of how close you are with richie but never close enough? “or he’s been spending too much time with me,” you say, sniffing arrogantly. the facade you put on sometimes is easier than breathing.

stan rolls his eyes. “sure, that’s it.” he pauses, squinting at you. “are you sure you’re okay? you look… upset, i guess.”

you snort, taking a sip of your drink as an excuse not to respond right away. your heart is in your throat at the idea of being caught. “you guess? gee, thanks stan.”

he narrows his eyes at you, his nostrils flaring slightly. behind him, bill is jumping onto mike’s back, laughing loudly. “shut up, you know what i meant. are you alright? seriously.”

you don’t give yourself time to hesitate. stan has a sixth sense for when he’s being lied to and won’t stop pestering you until you tell him the truth, and you’d like to not confess to him tonight. “yeah, stan,” you grin, feeling the lie like sawdust in your mouth. “i’m all good.”

he gives you a skeptical look, searching your face, but eventually he just sighs and nods. “alright, fine. if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

you nod back, glad you managed to escape that. “thanks, dude. hey, i’m gonna go grab a different drink, i’ll be right back.”

you don’t wait for him to say anything, or for anyone else to come with you. you just slip away, using the hordes of drunk teenagers to your advantage until you manage to get to the kitchen.

your shoulders slump, the smile you’d painted onto your face slipping away. slowly, you pour the rest of your shitty beer down the sink, opening the fridge and rifling around until you find a soda, stealing it before you can talk yourself out of it. whoever’s house this is won’t care, and besides, you think you need it.

when you leave the kitchen, your eyes fall to the spot where richie had been leaning. the wall is empty now.

pathetically, your eyes fill with tears. of course you know richie has a lot of sex, considering the self-satisfied smirk he’ll wear after getting fucked combined with the rumors that follow him like the perfume of whatever girl he’s seeing. the worst part is they aren’t even bad rumors; you’d lost count of the amount of times you had heard of how good a lover he is, or how his dick is as big as he’s often bragging, or how he does this thing with his mouth that feels like absolute heaven—

you’d heard enough. too much, probably. and it burrowed into your brain like the most insidious of weeds, sprouting thoughts you never should have let take root.

but of course richie was off fucking his girl. she was gorgeous, after all, easily one of the prettiest girls you’d ever seen, all smooth tanned skin and long blonde hair and hourglass figure. the kind of girl that richie deserved to have on his arm. the kind of girl that you would never be.

you knew this would happen. still, the pain of it takes your breath away.

you manage to stumble your way back over to the losers, greeting them with a smile that feels entirely too wooden. you play the part, laughing with bev and leaning into ben’s shoulder and gossiping quietly with eddie. you stick to your script, even when richie stumbles down the stairs sometime later with the girl tucked under his arm, both of their clothes in disarray and richie’s curls a wild mess. you’re such a seasoned professional that you barely miss a beat with eddie, even when your eyes find the hickey sucked under richie’s jaw and stay there.

for the rest of the night, you do your best to stay away from richie, always at least one loser between you two. you doubt he notices, too wrapped up in his girl. you think her name is sandy. she’s so beautiful it hurts.

eventually, you think it’s probably late enough that you can leave without raising much of a fuss. all of the other losers are still there, but bev’s already dozing against ben’s shoulder and bill is fighting a losing battle with his own drooping eyelids. you can probably slip out now, you figure, before you fall apart.

you manage to say your goodbyes as quickly as possible, waving as you turn to leave. you drove here with the others in stan’s car but it’s not too far of a walk. besides, the cold might do you some good—

a hand wraps around your wrist, jerking you back against a broad chest. when you turn, you come face to face with one richie tozier.

god, years later and he’s still the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. his jawline is sharp and square, his shoulders broad and sturdy, a whisper of the strength he will carry as a man but no less impressive now. gone are the days of the dorky kid you first met; he’d long ago traded in his hawaiian shirts for jean jackets and ripped jeans, silver rings glinting around his fingers and a chain hanging into the open collar of his t-shirt. again, you are reminded of the rumors that constantly follow him. you’re just angry they didn’t think he was hot from the very beginning.

“where are you going?” he asks, his words slurred. he’d been downing the shitty spiked punch earlier like it was his job.

you sigh, tilting your head back to look at him. there’s another hickey just to the left of his adam’s apple. “home,” you say, simply. “i’m tired.”

he frowns, stepping closer to you. the heat radiates off of him. “but i haven’t gotten to talk to you all night,” he whines, pouting ridiculously. “i missed you.”

it shouldn’t affect you. richie flirts like breathing, with anyone who will entertain him. it’s just how close you two are that means his flirting is usually aimed at you. “sorry, rich,” you say, and you find that you mean it. “next time, okay?”

his fingers release your wrist, only to catch on the curve of your waist and pull you close. the heat of his hand burns through the flimsy material of your top. you’re so focused on trying to stay upright just from that simple touch that you almost miss what he says next.

“can i come with you?” his voice is low, rough, more of a growl than anything else.

you blink, stupefied. usually you’re quicker than this, able to keep up a banter with him that’s rivaled only by him and eddie. now, you’re left tongue-tied, the endless wanting inside of you threading around your throat and choking you. “what?”

“can i come with you?” he repeats, looking down at you with his pretty eyes. his glasses slide down his nose. you fight the urge to push them back up. “we can take my truck. this party’s kind of a bore, honestly.”

you swallow, feeling your heart stutter. “what about sandy?” your mouth is so dry your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth.

richie shrugs, casual as all hell and infuriatingly attractive. “she can last without me for a bit. i’d rather hang out with my favorite girl.” he grins at you, his dimples curving into his cheek.

it makes you want to scream. he says things like this all the time, calls you doll and baby and love like he has the fucking right, constantly says you’re the most important person in his life. and yet, he doesn’t feel the same way for you as you do for him. and he never will.

still, you’re a sucker for him. your lips curl into a weak smile. “sure, rich,” you whisper; any louder and your voice will crack. “let’s get out of here.”

he doesn’t even stop to say goodbye to anyone else, just crowding against your back and walking behind you the entire way out the front door. he’s so close that his chest brushes against your shoulder blades, his fingertips grazing over your hip. you focus on not tripping.

once you’re outside, you hold your hand out, not looking at him. “keys,” you command.

he laughs, full and bright as he digs his keys out of his pocket. “yes, nurse ratched,” he teases, dropping them into your hand. “right away, nurse ratched.”

you scowl at him, turning away to stomp your way down the block to where richie parked. it’s not a long walk but the late autumn night is chilly, especially through the thin material of your top and your skirt. you shiver, wrapping your arms around yourself.

before you can really react, richie’s shrugging off his jacket, settling the heavy denim over your shoulders. he’s just wearing a plain black t-shirt underneath, the cotton clinging to his biceps and chest, and you can’t tear your eyes away, even when he murmurs, “should’ve said you were cold, doll.”

the jacket smells like him: the apple of his shampoo, the warmth of his deodorant, the smoke from his cigarettes. it shouldn’t be a pleasant scent but it is, because it means comfort. it means home. it means your best friend and the love of your life.

your shoulders slump, your hand trembling when you finally reach his truck and reach for the driver’s side handle. “thanks, richie,” you breathe, climbing into the car before he can answer.

you don’t really know what he had in mind when he asked to leave with you, but you’re too overwhelmed to handle being alone with him for too long. already, having him this close is fogging your brain. you need to get away from him so you can fall apart in peace.

you decide to just take him home and walk from there. it proves to be the best choice, because not even a minute into your drive his chin is dropping down to his chest, his eyelids closing in longer and longer blinks until finally, he’s dozing in the front seat, big body curled in your direction. it fills you with so much warmth you think you are burning from the inside out.

it should be ridiculous, how much you love him. you should be at your limit for how much you have to give, capped out a long time ago, but everyday you fall for him a little bit more. whenever he does something particularly sweet, or funny, or attractive, you feel a little more of yourself crumble away to lay at his feet. at this point, you’re more fracture than glass, crushed into a fine powder under richie’s foot.

by the time you pull into richie’s driveway, he’s snoring lightly, his glasses knocked askew on his face. part of you wants to let him sleep, but the bigger part of you knows you need to get him into the house. you already slack on your best friend duties by secretly being in love with him, you don’t need to leave him out in the cold too.

sighing, you turn the key and shut the car off, getting out and walking around to the passenger side. you shake his shoulder, gently at first, then rougher when he doesn’t respond. he grumbles, swatting at you. you can’t help but laugh, shaking him again.

“rich,” you croon, shaking him with both hands. he groans, scrunching his face up. you snicker. “c’mon asshole, you’re too heavy for me to carry.”

he pries one eye open, glaring at you. “or you’re too small to even try,” he taunts back, sticking his tongue out.

you roll your eyes, tugging him out of the car. he goes easily enough, stumbling a little bit leaning into your side as you lock the car behind you.

you weren’t kidding when you said he was heavy. he’s just so much bigger than you, tall and broad and undeniably masculine. you try your best to take some of his weight with an arm curved around his waist, but you don’t think you’re really doing anything.

the lights are all off inside, richie’s parents gone for the weekend at some conference for his dad’s work. it makes you feel better about how you two stumble around in the dark, knocking into the walls and tripping over the stairs. finally, without much incident, you make it into richie’s room, depositing him on his bed before he can fall and brain himself on his table. his desk light is on, throwing the room into shadow but just light enough for you to see his face.

his curls spread around him on his pillow, his eyes already closed. he’s on top of his covers but there’s not much you can do about that. the only thing you can do is untie his boots and pluck his glasses from his face, letting him get as comfortable as he can with his clothes still on.

you stop, looking down at him. he’s almost angelic in his sleep, peaceful and quiet for probably the only time in his life. he’s so gorgeous like this, vulnerable, unguarded. it makes you feel like a creep to be looking at this without his knowledge. or his approval.

biting your lip, you turn to the door, only stopping when you realize you still have his jacket. carefully, you shrug it off, going to lay it on his bed when his voice stops you.

“keep it.”

you look up to see his eyes half-open, locked on you. the lamp throws his face into sharp angles and shadow, but the expression on his face is soft. his fingers stretch towards you.

“it looks good on you,” he continues, his voice barely more than a whisper. “you should wear it all the time.”

you don’t know what to say, frozen at the foot of his bed. it feels like everything you’ve ever wanted, before you remember that he’s drunk and out of his mind. he probably thinks you’re sandy. there’s no way he’d ever say that to you.

but he keeps going, his voice rough, smooth velvet over steel. “you look good all the time. makes me feel insane. just wanna touch you but i can’t.”

your heartbeat is pounding in your ears. through trembling lips, you manage to get out, “what about sandy?”

he shrugs, a tiny movement that feels unsure. you’ve never seen him shy like this. the fact that sandy’s likely the reason makes you burn inside. “she’s cool and all, but she’s not you. you’re my best friend, (y/n). i love you.”

you gasp softly, nowhere near loud enough for him to hear. your heart feels like it’s being pulled in two. “i love you too, rich. more than you could ever understand.”

but he shakes his head firmly. “no, you don’t get it. i love you. you’re my—you’re my other half. my partner in crime. i’d be lost without you.” before you can respond, he sighs and whispers, “wish you were my girlfriend. not sandy.”

his eyes slip closed the next instant. as you stand there, simultaneously turned to stone and burning alive, he gives a soft snore, his features relaxing in sleep.

you stare down at him for what feels like centuries, suddenly too old to move. you look down at the jacket in your arms, then back up to him. a loose curl lays against his forehead. your fingers itch to push it behind his ear.

“i wish you were sober,” you whisper. he doesn’t twitch.

you leave the jacket laid at the foot of his bed when you go.

(part two)

[semisgroupie]

Haikyuu & the song they use to turn you on HCs

Warnings: has NSFW themes, there are some timeskip! spoilers

Characters this part contains: Karasuno Team (including: Ennoshita, Kinoshita and Narita. I plan on including Kiyoko, Yachi, Coach Ukai and Takeda in another part)

A/N: all pairings are X GN!Reader! This idea just popped randomly into my head when I was listening to music one night to help me go to sleep and I really enjoyed writing this so I hope you all enjoy it too! This is going to be a little series thing of headcannons!

Sawamura Daichi: Pony — Ginuwine

Have y’all seen magic Mike? Bc magic Mike is nothing compared to magic Daichi

I just imagine that one night y’all were sitting watching Magic Mike and you were drooling over the strippers in the movie and he catches your reaction and goes “well I’m gonna show them” in his head

So one night after work you open the door and find a note telling you to go to the bedroom so you go and sit on the bed and just hear Pony start playing

You’re really confused and then the door to your bedroom opens up again revealing a Daichi in a sexy cop uniform, wearing his police cap and twirling his work handcuffs around in his hand

He does a little strip show for you and let’s just say you’re glad you don’t have to go to work the next day because you spent all night riding his pony

Koushi Sugawara: LIKE I WANT YOU — Givēon

You two would be having a little makeout session and once it starts getting more heated Suga will grab his phone

Of course you’ll be confused bc you’re straddling him and this guy is on his phone

Before you question his actions Like I Want You starts playing

He chose this song bc one night when you two were out clubbing this song played and it just led to a really fun night (if you know what I mean)

Safe to say the song had the same effect on you as it did that night

Azumane Asahi: Love On the Brain — Rihanna

He remembers one day you were playing this song while you were cooking and the way you were swaying your hips just drove him wild

He added the song to his playlist IMMEDIATELY after seeing you dance to it

One day you’re helping him organize his designs and he has his playlist on shuffle

He grabs his phone and looks for the song, once he finds it he grabs you close and plays the song

He puts his hands on your waist and sways with you to the song whispering in your ear how much he enjoyed seeing you dance to it the other day

Yuu Nishinoya: Earned It — The Weeknd

He is beyond prepared for this moment

I mean he actually has a playlist named “Songs to Have Sex to w/ Y/N”

I wish I was joking

He always plays this song when he’s in the mood bc it just reminds him of you

And it reminds him of 50 Shades and he likes that movie

So whenever this song plays he’ll drag you to the bedroom and seduce you there

Ryūnosuke Tanaka: Can’t Get Enough of Your Love — Barry White

This man wanted to spice things up and change things up to turn you on

So he did what any guy in his position would do

He asked his sister

To fuck with him she told him to put on some Barry White or Lou Rawls or any singer with a deep voice

So what does he do? He finds “the perfect song” by Barry White and plans to play it when you come over

You come over and once you open the door to his room and he starts playing the song

You look at him while Barry White is speaking before actually singing in the song and Tanaka’s on the bed in his boxers laying like “paint me like one of your French girls”

You try so hard not to laugh because he really did try but a few giggles slip out

He quickly stops that by throwing you onto the bed and shows you not to laugh at his antics ever again

Afterwards he’s like “you don’t like deep voices like his?”

Chikara Ennoshita: Drunk In Love — Beyoncé

Hisashi Kinoshita: I’ll Make Love To You — Boys II Men

Kinoshita is a passionate lover

He’s used to being put on the back burner so every chance he gets with you he wants to make you feel like you’re the only person in the world

Especially intimately

He refuses to refer to sex as just sex with you it’s “making love”

Since he has this song in his playlist he plays this every time to get you in the mood

Kazuhito Narita: Slow Motion — Trey Songz

One day when you two were driving home you had the AUX and this song started playing

He saw your reaction and how you kept looking at him when this song was playing so he kept it in mind and added it to a special playlist

So every time you get stressed out over assignments or anything he plays this song and helps you destress

Or whenever you two come back from a little dinner date he plays this song and shows his appreciation for you

Tobio Kageyama: You’re The First, The Last, My Everything — Barry White

He has played volleyball highlights thinking it’ll get you in the mood

He texts his sister for help... yes he also tells his sister about your sex life

She sends him this song to mess with him and poor baby believes this will do the trick

When you are getting ready to lay down in your shared bed he plays the song on your speakers and just looks at you

You don’t know how to react so you two are just looking at each other

“Does this turn you on?” “Not really, I don’t want to hear another mans voice when I’m trying to have sex with you”

You two get past this moment and enjoy each other

You make a playlist for him with better music

Shoyo Hinata: Feeling Myself — Beyoncé and Nicki Minaj

Like Kageyama he has also played volleyball highlights thinking it’ll turn you on

He still keeps contact with everyone from Karasuno so he texts Noya for some help

Noya tells him this is the song to help out

When you get the chance you better thank Noya because it helped a lot

But during the middle of sex all you hear is “tired of the ads?”

Like you are a professional volleyball player and you can’t afford Spotify Premium?

Kei Tsukishima: Redbone — Childish Gambino

At first he was gonna let Jurassic Park play in the background

And you’re just like “no, you’re with dinosaurs all the time”

He goes through his playlist and after a while he finds this song

He remembers one day you blatantly said you’d have sex to this song

Once this song starts playing he throws his phone to the side and starts kissing your neck to get down to business

Tadashi Yamaguchi: Ride — SoMo

You two send playlists to each other every once in a while

One day you accidentally sent him your sex playlist

He kept it saved and couldn’t keep the first song on the playlist out of his mind

He texted you one day to meet him in the bedroom

Once you walked in you heard this song and he was laying on the bed in his boxers

Once you two made eye contact he winks at you and says “come on, let’s do what the song says”

A/N pt2: sorry this took forever to make, I had writers block (I blame my haircut for that). I hope you all enjoy the first installment of this series! Thank you for checking this out

— Dee <3

[soulwillower]

secret • stanley uris

(stanley uris x reader)

requested: someone a while back asked for some stan fluff but i can't find it im v sorry <33 but this ones 4 u nonny

warnings: swearing, underage drinking, mentions of it, fluff, laying in roads, super unedited

[losers and reader are 16+ in this.]

2.9k words

♡

"oh, man." mike mumbles as he wiggles himself comfortably in bill's guest bed, making you snort quietly. "it's cold in here."

you nod, sighing. "you're right. i'll go get you a blanket, okay?" you state, hearing but not comprehending the drunken mumbles that leave mike's mouth as you walk to the hallway closet.

you'd spent yet another night out with your friends, this time finding yourselves at a house party thrown by some kid that was in your class; it had been a fun night, but now you and stan were the only sober ones and have to get all the others into bed, which was no easy feat. you're extremely relieved that stan volunteered to get richie into bed, because you know you don't have the patience for him right now, especially after he'd spent all night drunkenly ranting about how bad you had it for stan.

it started at about 3-drinks-in richie, bounding up to you like an excited puppy and asking when the wedding was. you'd rolled your eyes and told him to shut up but it's richie, so he never does. and then there was five-drinks-in richie telling you to confess to stan, shoving you towards the curly haired boy who caught you with ease and grace, rolling his eyes at richie and offering to get you something to drink. then there was six-drinks-in richie telling you that stan had a secret he's kept from you but refusing to elaborate on it and making you want to punch the trashmouth in the face.

you're glad you don't have to deal with him now, because you may explode if you have to hear him try and help you with the whole stan situation one more time. because you're a grown up, and you can handle it all on your own.

yeah.

it's quiet as you lay your eyes on the blanket on the top shelf, straining to reach it as a door shuts down the hall. you huff as you jump up, reaching with your hand stretched and yet still missing the blanket, grasping at air.

then suddenly, a hand is on your waist and you can smell and feel stan as he presses up behind you, reaching up to grab the blanket with ease and pulling it down for you. you roll your eyes and try not to think about how close he is to you as you spin around, his hand slowly falling from its resting point on your hips. "here you go, shortcake." he says with a lopsided smirk, his eyes warm as he grins at the look on your face. "never, ever call me that again. you sound like richie." you say with a little eye roll because he's such a tease.

he huffs a laugh, tilting his head back and clutching his chest like that was a huge blow to the heart and you hide your lovesick smile. "thanks, though." you add on, and stan's smile widens.

"richie's finally down." he says quietly as he follows you into the room where mike's already asleep, curled on his side like a small cat. you laugh a bit as you spread the blanket over his sleeping form, "you say that like he's a toddler."

stan laughs warmly, flipping off the lights as you and him exit the room, making your way down the stairs. "is he not?" stan says through a yawn. you smirk at the floor, shaking your head as the house finally falls completely silent, all five of your drunk friends having been safely put down to bed.

"you ready, y/n/n?" stan asks, holding the door open for you and looking perfect in his sweater and curly hair. you sigh, almost lovesick, as you follow him out into the street.

as the two of you walk towards your house from bill's, you bring up something that richie had imprinted in your mind earlier, after the fifth vodka-soda.

"so richie said you have a secret." you say with a teasing smile. stan looks at you, his trademark stoic look melting into one of alarm. "did he?" stan asks, voice barely shaky.

"yes, but he didn't get around to telling me what it is. is it..." you pretend to think. "a third nipple? a secret sibling we had no idea about?" you gasp, "stan, are you a flat-earther?"

he laughs, his smile brilliant enough to light up the dark night. it makes you warm even in the cold air of october. "no." he says simply, making no other attempt to elaborate.

"well what is it, then?" you ask, smiling at him and feeling your fingertips tingle. his skin is pale in the lamplight, the sharp cold air nipping at his face and leaving his cheeks and nose a bit red, his hair rustling in the breeze. your heart hurts; he looks devastatingly beautiful.

“if i tell you, then it wouldn’t be a secret.” he says, a small grin on his face as his eyes his the dreary skyline, the light breeze catching you off guard and making you shiver. you roll your eyes good-naturedly as you shove him a bit and he stumbles out onto the street. he laughs and your heart does a somersault.

"that's so lame, stan! please, tell me? i promise i won't tell anyone." you insist, grabbing his outstretched hands as he pulls you with him towards the middle of the abandoned, empty street. the night is deadly quiet around you and it makes his sharp laugh even more startling, as if you've just been woken up from a daydream.

"everybody else already knows, y/n/n." stan says, lifting a brow, as if in challenge. his cheeks are slightly pink from the cold air and you huff, a short puff of condensed air pluming out towards him and dissolving moments after.

"how can you lie to your best friend like this, then?" you ask, the joke suddenly slightly offending you, but your smile covering up your stinging heart. stan, though, suddenly looks down at your combined hands with furrowed brows, pulling you slightly towards him. you stumble a bit to catch your balance at your sudden proximity to the boy.

"what?" you ask, turning your palms upwards to see if there was something on them that made him react so oddly. he looks to you, his eyes soft and "your hands are so soft."

you stare at him blankly, lifting a brow. he must think you're dumb. "you're not going to distract me, uris. i'll get it out of you." you say, pulling one hand from his warm grip to point at his chest.

you have to distract yourself from the hurricane of butterflies erupting in your chest because of stan's words, his hands in yours, and the fact that you're alone with him in the middle of the night.

your words make him grin at you, a smile that yet again makes flowers of affection blossom in your chest as he softly grabs the hand you have pointed against his chest. he smirks, confirming your suspicion that he was just trying to distract you.

"whatever, let's go, y/n." he says, tugging you lightly, but your feet stay planted against the damp pavement of the middle of the road as you hold your ground. "no, i'm staying here until you tell me." you grumble, smiling at him innocently as he gapes at you.

"my god. are you five?" he asks in his trademark timbre, a smile giving away his actual amusement. you cross your arms and plop onto the pavement in the middle of the road, the ground slightly cold against your back as you lay down, head falling onto the yellow paint divider. stan looks heavenly even from this angle as he stares down at you, curls swaying as he moves to shake his head at you, biting his lip to hold back what you know would be a small giggle.

"you are five." he mutters. you want to kiss him.

you want to kiss him so bad right now. but instead, knowing it'd destroy your friendship, you cross your arms and stare up at him from the road. "no i'm not, i'm just mad my best friend doesn't trust me enough to tell me his secrets."

of course, you know if it's something he doesn't want you to know, you won't actually push him - you would understand. but he's teasing you; you can tell he'll tell you, but not before a bit of playful prodding. and you really, really want to know.

"the stuff i do for you, y/l/n." he grumbles, and your stomach does flips as he lowers himself to lay on the pavement next to you, staring up at the onyx sky.

it's silent for a few moments as neither of you move or speak, entranced as the night seems to swallow you whole, coating you in a blanket of dark blue and speckles of bright, distant stars as the only person in the universe lies next to you, tapping his fingers in a neat 1, 2, 3 pattern.

"so you're really not going to tell me?" you ask softly, your voice cutting through the silence of the autumn night. you shiver again, and he shifts slightly so that you can feel his body warmth so close to you, yet not touching.

he sighs, "you're not going to like it as much as you think you will."

you frown, looking over at him and propping yourself up on one elbow. "what's that supposed to mean?" he shakes his head but doesn't add anything, prompting you to  lay flat again, eyes up towards the stars.

"you know i don't like saying things before trying them first."

your heart thumps and you shrug, still not looking at him. "then try it first, stan. you know i'll wait until you're ready. but i'll be laying here in the middle of the street until you do."

he chuckles softly but you can hear the anxiety in his voice, "i think that's not the best idea, y/n. it involves you."

your heart beat quickens, and you hope this is going where you wish it is. "stan. there's not much that i can think of that you could do to me that i wouldn't want." you say, immediately stumbling to re-explain those words, embarrassed at how they sounded. "-er, you know. l-like, it'll take a lot for me to dislike you. you're not going to stab me, are you?"

he laughs again and you smile. "of course not, you dumbass." he says. you sigh quietly, "i promise i won't get mad."

"are you sure, y/n?" he sounds so nervous, you turn to look at him with a concerned look. "of course, stan. i trust you with my life. that's why i'm laying in the middle of a road with you at three in the morning." you say honestly. his cheeks dust a pink color and it makes you happy.

"wh - okay, but this situation is your fault and we're here because of you, not me, so that doesn't really make sense because you're trusting yourself because this was your idea-" he stars with an eye roll and you shove his shoulder lightly, making him break off his sentence with a slight chuckle.

"okay, fine. just- close your eyes." he says. faithfully, you close your eyes and wait for further instruction, your heart pounding in your chest.

its a few moments of excruciating nothingness, just you in a dark abyss on the cold hard ground, the boy beside you shifting and breathing shakily. you're about to ask if he left you but then suddenly you're feeling cold lips against yours and your heart is bursting, eyes shutting quickly as you press against him. 

he's pulling away before you even have time to appreciate the taste of stan's lips on yours and he's staring at you, nervous and wide-eyed when you look up at him.

but then you reach to him and pull him to your lips again, this time kissing him deeply and conveying everything that you can’t say. he kisses back with so much passion that you loose your breath, his hand caressing your side and making you sigh lightly.

his lips are soft against yours and his tongue slides into your mouth, making your stomach pool with butterflies and excitement. but then, he breaks the kiss and leans away a bit, causing you to whine, your hand tightening around his neck.

"please don't pull away yet," you whisper against his lips selfishly. he lets out a small puff from his lips and it goes right against your own, reminding you yet again of your proximity and the weight of his body against yours on the cold, hard pavement. 

"we're in the middle of the street." he says, ever the thinker. "and now you know the secret, so you can get up." he adds smugly, making you roll your eyes and pull him back towards your lips.

he falls back against you easily, his lips slotting against yours as if he's been doing it his whole life. his hand slowly moves from where he balances over you to caress your cheek as his tongue swipes against your lips. you open your mouth slightly but he then pulls back again, this time further away and you huff.

you're ripped from your senses as a car engine sputters by at the intersection a few hundred feet away from you and stan jolts back, standing up quickly as he clears his throat. 

he pulls you upright after, and the two of you smile at each other, stan mumbling, "told you, that's not safe."

you smile at the ground. "maybe i should start listening to your advice, huh?" you tease him. he chuckles, reaching his hands out so they fall onto your hips and squeeze gently. you look up at him, cheeks feeling extremely warm, and he bites his lip through his smile. 

“i really, really like you y/n.” he says honestly, and your stomach flips itself in butterflies. you smile hugs as you lay your hands around his neck, stepping closer, “i like you more.” you say gently. 

he shakes his head and kisses you on the nose, making you want to melt with affection. “not possible.” he argues, pulling you against him as he kisses you once more, his mouth warm and inviting, causing you to sigh. 

and even in the middle of the road at three in the morning on a freezing cold night, when stan tightens his grip on you, you know you’re where you’re supposed to be. 

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings​ @stenbrozier​ @simplesammyx​ @brxken-heartsclub​ @clownsloveyou​ @baby-yoda-a @moon-shine-baby​ @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier​ @oceandog13​ @finnskindofwoman​  @kait-tozier​ @upamongthestarss​ @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies (i think this is everyone!)

[the-hopeless-haze]

Rebel Rebel (Part 1?)

Pairing: Janis Sarkisian/reader

A/N: okay this has been sitting in my drafts for months and I have no idea if I’m gonna continue this but fuck it???? Sorry for all the people who followed me for Barba lmao (I am continuing that don’t worry) but idk I just figured I may as well post this??? I have more of this written and I know how I wanted it to end but the middle is just not working and that’s why I never posted. But I just listened to Dead Girl Walking and I was reminded how gay I am for Barrett sooooo 😂 here you go? You’re welcome?? I haven’t edited this or looked at it since March so this may be a mess but... yeah

It was eighth grade, nearing the end of the year and you were anxious, unsure of why. Would your friends still be your friends next year? High school was going to be a lot different, you could just tell.

You saw your two best friends, Regina and Janis talking to each other down the hallway, where their lockers were, so you headed down there. Regina was probably inviting Janis to the end of year pool party she’d been planning. It was going to be so great to at least be with all your friends one last time, even if high school might take them away.

As you got within earshot, though, you realized Regina was being anything but nice.

“But are you a lesbian, Janis? I can’t have a lesbian at my pool party,” you hear Regina’s high pitched voice chirp. “You understand that, right?”

“Regina... I—“

“What? So are you?”

“Why are you asking me this? Did I do something?”

“I need to know. Don’t you get it? You not wanting to answer is pretty suspicious.”

“I am a space alien and I have four butts!” Janis yelled and ran down the hallway, leaving Regina to laugh. She makes eye contact with you. “Wow, I dodged a bullet with that, huh?”

“Why did you do that?”

“Don’t you get she doesn’t fit in? I mean, she likes girls, first of all. Second of all... she doesn’t get this stuff. Don’t you want to be popular in high school? I can get you there. We’re on top here. Everyone knows us. But this is child’s play.”

“But that was mean, Regina!” you said, your tone accusatory.

She shrugs her shoulders. “Sometimes you have to be mean to get what you want. And we’re not going to get it with her.”

“But she’s our friend!”

“Was...our friend. Don’t you care that she’s a dyke?”

You sighed, defeated. You wanted to tell her, no, you didn’t care... but you knew she’d stop being friends with you too. And her talk of being popular and being on top of the world... it sounded good.

You had many regrets about this day, and if everyone has a couple turning points in their lives, this was your first.

——

Regina was right, though. She got you everything you had thought you’d always wanted, but you never felt good enough and a lot of the time, you’re miserable. You’re constantly worried about your weight, whether you got enough instagram likes on your 1000th picture with the plastics, as you’d been dubbed, and whether or not you were dating one of the hottest guys at school.

Who would’ve thought the hottest guys were so dumb? You didn’t like any of them, really, and the second they asked to get in your pants, you dropped them like flies. So you’d gotten a rep for being somewhat of a prude, which Regina would sometimes scold you for.

Regina just got meaner as time went on, and sometimes you regretted not turning on her the first day she showed her true colors, when she’d sharpied all over Janis’s locker “SPACE DYKE” and even included it in the burn book she made over the summer once yearbooks came out. Regina would flirt with boys that she thought you or Gretchen liked, just to show you she could have them. Jokes on her, you didn’t like any of them, but you had to pretend or there wouldn’t be any gossip or any of the infighting that Regina seemed to love. It was the beginning of sophomore year now, and it was beyond exhausting.

And oh, the parties that started now! You hated them, just an excuse for everyone to get shitfaced and girls to make dumb decisions that made boys so happy even though everyone was too drunk to really remember them the next day. Regina is hosting one tonight, and here you are, in your skimpy, skin tight blue dress that you had to buy with babysitting money— since there’s no way in hell your mother would buy that for you. A sophomore hosting a party was unheard of, but Regina has a huge house and her parents went on vacation for their anniversary. She’d use whatever she could to her advantage.

All she wanted was to climb that ladder, and she didn’t care who got hurt in the way.

But here you were, dancing with the hockey player you were dating now... or was it football? You didn’t even care. You vaguely remembered his name was Mike and you told him you needed to go to the bathroom. You headed to Regina’s room and locked the door, thankful you got there early enough that there was no one trying to hookup.

You got lost in your phone for a while, and you found Janis’s Instagram profile. It was private, but there was her profile picture. She was so pretty now, not the awkward girl who tried to dye her hair blonde and wear pink just to fit in. She wore dark makeup in the picture and she wasn’t looking at the camera, and it fit her so much better. Even her hair, which she had let just grow out from the blonde she’d dyed it, looked great. You nearly send a follow request and then think better of it.

You remembered having hobbies, painting at Janis’s house until your hands were covered in paint, and you remember laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe.

Sometimes Regina was a good friend. Sometimes she was a great friend. She was there for you when your grandmother died over that first summer without Janis, and she held you while you cried... and you cried a lot. But sometimes she was mean to even you and it was exhausting. You know she cares about you, but you know she’d turn on you, too, if you gave her what she deemed enough reason to.

You can’t remember laughing like you used to in a long time. You can’t remember being passionate about anything for a while, either. The only time was in your classes, really, you loved chemistry but you had to keep it under wraps because if it got out you were too nerdy... well, that’s social suicide.

The thing about being a plastic was that you couldn’t be anything or do anything too extreme. You had to just be a shell of human being, a shell of a hot girl, just to appease everyone. The money you spent, or had your parents spend, on your bleach blonde hair and your makeup and your hot clothes and your nails and your purses and your shoes... and the hours you spent at the salon and the mall with Regina and Gretchen and Karen, it was completely exhausting. And then you weren’t allowed to have a personality outside of all of this, it was just, clothes! Makeup! Shoes! Boys! Parties! Popularity!

All things girls were supposed to care about, but really, there was no girl left in you to care anymore. You slip off your heels and lie down on the bed, remembering Regina holding you. That felt nice, her slender arms around you, her chin against your shoulder, and she smelled so good, like a hair salon and vanilla and cinnamon and... you just wanted to cry. Why couldn’t she be like that all the time?

The pillows smell like her shampoo and you inch up to place your head on them, ready to fall asleep, the bass from the speakers downstairs lulling you.

You awake twenty minutes later with your phone blowing up from Regina. “Where’d you go? Party’s not fun without you 😘” her most recent text said. Your eyes burn from the makeup you fell asleep in and you blink a few times before replying, telling her you were in her room and not feeling well.

“Bummer! I’ll be up in a few xo” she texts back.

You answer the door when she knocks, and you smile when she hugs you immediately. “(Y/n)! I’m sorry you’re sick! Did you drink something Kevin made? Because don’t.”

“No... I just... I don’t know. I’m sick of the parties,” you grumble as you pull away from the hug and sit back on the bed. She follows you, her pink dress clinging to her every curve, riding up a little as she sits down.

“Why?” She laughs. “This is what high school is about! You’ve gotta have fun. You’re only hot once.”

“But this... it’s not fun to me. It’s not fun to get wasted and have guys try and get in my pants and watch girls throw up.”

“But we can get everything we want. It’s what I always told you,” she says, rubbing your back, but her voice is hollow.

“I don’t have everything I want! I don’t even know what I want anymore, but I’m not happy. Are you? What are you getting out of this because I don’t understand.”

“Respect. Love. Fear. It’s all I ever wanted, really,” Regina says. “People either love me or hate me but they think about me. They think about you, too. Everyone who’s a sophomore knows us, and most of the upperclassmen do too. Doesn’t it feel good?”

You sigh. “I guess, sometimes, it does. But most of the time it doesn’t! I don’t like it, feeling like I have to do everything perfectly because everyone’s watching. And it’s only going to get worse because next year we’re juniors...”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m not entirely happy either. I don’t like Jack.”

“Then why are you dating him?”

“Because. Free popularity and all I gotta do is be seen with him.”

“But... doesn’t he ask for more?”

She laughs. “Sure he does! But you have to be strategic with that.”

“Right..." you say, slightly sarcastically. You didn't really know what she meant.

Regina places a hand on your knee. “I know it’s been hard for you. But it’s going to be okay.”

“Do you wanna... just lie for a minute? I know you have to go back to the party—“

“No, I can stay for you,” she says, smiling softly. There was the Regina you wanted to be friends with all the time.

You both lean back on the bed, and her arms wrap around you tightly, her chin nestling on your shoulder. Here, you were happy.

“It’s all worth it, all the fighting to just get to the top to sit like this with you,” she says quietly. “We could never be made fun of for this because we can’t be touched.”

“What?”

“Don’t you get it? I... I don’t know how to say it. Just... trust me, okay?” You nod, not sure what she meant, but then she’s leaning over and turning your cheek toward her and she’s kissing you.

Regina George is kissing you.

It’s a quick peck, probably because she’s not sure how you’d react but it’s still the best kiss you’d ever had in your life. You don’t make any rational thoughts in the next few moments and you’re not sure if she kisses you again or you pull her back in, but all of a sudden she’s on top of you and kissing you harder, and slowly, the confusion sets in.

It almost feels too good to stop, but eventually your brain starts working again. “Regina... I... are you okay?” you ask as you pull away. “Are you drunk?”

“What? No. I wouldn’t get drunk at my own party, what kind of slut does that? No, (y/n)... I want you. Didn’t that feel good?”

“Yes... but... you kicked Janis out of the friend group for being a lesbian. Why would you do that if you were gay? You always said she had a crush on you. Why would that have been such a bad thing?”

Regina sighs and flops over to the other side of the bed. “I’m not gay. I mean. I don’t know. I definitely didn’t know back then but I knew Janis just didn’t fit in even if we took away all of the gay stuff. But if we talk about the gay stuff... then yeah. I was confused. Super confused. I didn’t know if I liked you or her and I knew I wasn’t supposed to like either of you. And then I saw the two of you together and you just... you had something I didn’t have, just genuine friendship, and maybe she had a crush on you. Either way I was jealous. And I had to get the two of you apart.”

“Regina... that’s awful,” you say.

“But then I tried to be nice to you! I just wanted to be friends. I mean, I didn’t think I wanted to sleep with you or anything. I just wanted to be friends. Karen and Gretchen are just stupid and I just don’t feel comfortable enough around them to be like this. To let go of the persona.”

“You haven’t been entirely nice to me, Regina. Plus you started this off by ruining my friendship with Janis.”

“I know. I shouldn’t have done that, but I was so... angry whenever she was around. I just... we could pass for straight. No one would know.”

“Regina... I can’t,” you say, biting your lip and trying not to cry.

“Do you... do you not like girls? Is that it? I’m so stupid,” she says bitterly.

“No, Regina, it’s not that, I mean... I don’t know if I do. But it’s just... I’m tired of living like this and I don’t want to have this secret to worry about. All we need is for Gretchen to find out...”

“But she wouldn’t. And even if she did, do you think she’d cross me? Cross us?” She grips your wrists. “Please.”

You start crying and you know you’re not going to be able to stop. If the circumstances were different, you’d love to date her. You think. “Regina. I don’t want to be popular anymore, and for that to happen, we can’t be friends and we... can’t do this.”

“But—“

“If you want to drop it... then... if you want to give up being popular, being fake... then... then yes. Come out. Apologize to Janis. But I’m leaving, and I’m not leaving with baggage.”

She nods. “I... I understand. It’s okay. But I need this! They’d tear me apart if I came out and I can’t be... I can’t be outcasted. I’m exhausted, too, you know? But it’s... it’s better than the alternative. I hope you don’t come to realize that.”

“Regina...”

“No, it’s fine. I really get it,” she says, smiling. “But I’m going to have to spread a rumor, something so they don’t question why you left the group.”

“I know. Just say I’m gay. It’s your trick.”

She starts crying then, sobbing, really, and your heart lurches. You lean over to hug her.

“You don’t have to be so mean.”

“Yeah. I do. Because if I’m not it’ll turn around on me. My mom... she’d never understand! I just... okay. I understand we can’t... be seen together if this is really what you want. But can you at least text me once in a while? So I know how you’re doing?”

“Of course,” you say. You hug her one last time, and she kisses your cheek. You leave the house with your head held high but your heart sinks as you realize this is the last time you’ll step foot in there.

——

Regina is meaner without you. She is hostile to Gretchen and Karen, and you can tell if they adored her at all before, that’s completely gone and they follow her out of fear that she’d make their lives a living hell.

Maybe it’s because she did go on and start the rumor you were a lesbian. Fair enough. You weren’t entirely sure about that label yet but it gave you enough freedom to maneuver this without having lame guys hit on you anymore. That may have stopped anyway since you weren’t competing with Regina for hottest in the sophomore class... but at least it stopped.

“So... looks like she did the same thing to you after all, bitch,” a female voice says as you slam your locker shut. You jump and look to your left to see Janis there... and your breath catches. She was all the more beautiful in person.

“Yeah,” you frown. “But hey... are you mad at me?”

Janis scoffs. “Kinda. But I know you weren’t to blame now. I mean, she did the same thing to you! And I hate Regina more than I could ever hate anybody. Also Damien made me talk to you.”

“Damien?” you ask. “Wait... that guy in musical theater?”

“Yes...” Janis says slowly. “How do you know?”

“He’s really good! I’ve gone and seen every play. Like, and sat in the back. But I’ve gone.”

“Wow. That surprises me. But you did used to love that sort of thing in middle school.”

“I think I made you listen to the Mamma Mia soundtrack at least 80 times.”

“Oh yes. Wait... did you know that they’re putting it on this year? It's the spring musical."

“What?”

“Yeah. Maybe you could audition now that the plastics aren’t holding you back. You have like one day to make up your mind though. I do scenery. Maybe I’ll see you around?”

“Where do you sit at lunch?”

——

It was an awkward reintroduction and the words are never spoken. Is Janis gay? More importantly, are you gay, or bi, or something? Does wondering if another girl is gay make you gay?

But aside from the utter confusion of possibly having a crush on your ex best friend, you’re enjoying life as an ex-plastic. You’re auditioning for the role of Donna, but even if you don’t get it you’re going to get a part since so few people actually signed up to audition. You’re drawing again, too, even if you were never as good as Janis.

Regina hasn’t texted you yet, but you’re thankful. If she did too soon you’d get pulled back from the progress you’ve made. But you’re also worried about her, and your heart lurches whenever you make eye contact with her at lunch and she looks away quickly.

But this was how life was going to be from now on, so it was time to get used to it.

[emptynarration]

Y’know what?

I’ma make a list of all Iplier and Septic egos (that I would attempt writing) and put down some general headcanon points.

Be aware some might be different from “fanon” and some might be similar to “fanon”. These are just my general thoughts.

Also cus it’s a lot of egos, it’s under a read-more.

Dark

- Has a notable aura. Usually keeps it pulled to only himself, even though that’s tiring. - Generally very exhausted. - He works on keeping all the crimes the egos commit undercover and unnoticed, keeping the manor up and running without decaying, handling their money resources and public appearances, such things. - Cares about all the egos like family, but would never admit it. - Will manipulate you to reach his goal. Don’t trust him.

Wilford

- Not human. He’s a being made entirely out of energy. Is “human” for fun. - Due to that he doesn’t understand a lot of human things. Such as an actual need for food/water, bathroom needs, need to sleep, death. - Can alter reality in his vicinity however he pleases pretty much. - Can teleport himself to places he’s been to before. - Can teleport objects to himself and way, as long as he knows where they are and where they go.

Host

- Doesn’t smile a lot. Never seems to swear. - Is the (second) tallest ego. Cryptid vibes. - Narrates constantly, but doesn’t need to to be able to “see”. - Can be a softie when he wants to be. - Tortures people for fun. Murders for fun. Has no remorse. - Can be a petty asshole quite a lot.

(I tend to also write him as a nice, gentle baby, because self-projecting)

Dr Iplier

- Chubby and somft. - Extremely done with everyone’s bs. - Swears to himself more than you’d think. - Has slight healing powers (but can also cause pain if he wants to). - Works in a hospital in the city.

Google

- Doesn’t understand emotions at all. - Has a weird way of speaking sometimes. - What is slang? - Doesn’t understand humans well. He sees the bad the most so he hates them a lot. No reason to like humans. - Makes beeping sounds.

Oliver (Google Yellow)

- Very cheerful, bright, happy. - Loves children and teens, struggles with adults. - Very kind and caring to everyone. - Will murder with a smile on his face.

Reed (Google Red)

- he’s a mystery to myself I’m sorry

Greg (Google Green)

- Fascinated by humans, how they work like and such. - Has an interest in medicine. - Helps Iplier with taking care of the egos’ injuries and illnesses. - Very calm individual, very gentle.

Yandere

- Nonbinary. Uses They/Them or She/Her. - Will stab you if you ask about their sex. - Obsessed with their senpai, but never tries to interact with them. - Dresses both feminine and masculine. - Pretty cheerful and bright usually. - Easily makes friends.

King

- Loves nature and animals more than anything. - Understands animals and can communicate with them to some degree. - Is pretty muscular and athletic actually. - Very very kind and gentle. - Naive and oblivious.

Jims Twins

- Refer to everyone as Jim. - They are both Jim. No CJ or RJ (that just makes no sense). - They love to confuse people. - Are almost always recording what’s happening. - Run a news show, obviously. - Very very curious people. Ask a lot of questions.

Eric

- Very very shy and anxious. - Has no clue how to talk with people. - Stutters when nervous. - Handkerchief is a comfort item. - Loves animals a lot. - Very soft and very afraid.

Bim

- Very dramatic. - Loves glitter. Always glittering. - Cannibal, but like, casual. - Pretty nice fellow usually. - A huge flirt. Charismatic. - Has powers which he can use to make people pay attention to him, fall in love with him, and just generally want him.

Author

- Likes to be alone and isolated. - No idea how to handle people. - Needs chewing stim necklace. - Gets overwhelmed by a lot of noise and crowds. - Loud noises are Bad™ - Wilford’s best friend. Gets up to a lot of mischief with him. - Uses his writing for every little thing possible.

Bing

- Loves slang and uses it a lot. No matter from which decade. - Loves skateboarding and is pretty good with it. - Has a TikTok 100%. - Very chill. You will not get him angry.

Yancy

- Loves singing and making his own musical numbers. - Can choreograph simple things by himself. - Can dance pretty well. Especially tap-dance. - Loves reading old classics. - He will never let go of his accent.

Captn Magnum

- Gentle giant. - Always out on the sea. - The tallest ego around. - Father figure for absolutely everyone. - Eats lemons like oranges.

Illinois

- Cocky. - Loves to flirt. - Loves himself first and foremost. - Cares about people. - Doesn’t want to get attached. - Loves history, doesn’t care about money.

Mark Bop

- Loves singing, but is bad at it. - Has his own made-up language. (The Jims understand him). - Loves music. Has mix-tables. - Muscular man. Rips his shirts when he flexes. - Enjoys roller-skating. - Bad at talking. Very bad.

Arti

- Very nervous. Very shy. - Paranoid. - Loves art in every form. - Paints a lot. Loves painting. Good at painting. - Likes to be left alone. - Likes silent company. - Very nice actually.

Leon (Resident Enis)

- Doesn’t trust easily. - Dirty. Stinky. - A little kleptomaniac. - Nice and relaxed around friends. - Very protective.

Mike (FNAF guard)

- Paranoid. - Afraid of everyone. - Always has a knife on him. - Very protective once he trusts someone. - Insomniac.

Bill

- Werewolf. - Is deathly afraid of technology. - Doesn’t understand technology. - Loves to farm. - Good cook. - Very very nice and gentle.

Kink

- Very open-minded. - Connects emotionally with others very easily. - Extremely accepting of everyone and everything. - Loves to learn about new things. - Very kind and nice. - Has a death glare that’ll make you shudder.

Hiro (Cooliplier)

- The cool kid. - Not the smartest. - Doesn’t know a whole lot. - Likes to play tough and strong. - A huge softie. Loves cuddles.

Dr. Warren Plier

- Will psychoanalyze you the moment you meet. - Very quiet individual. - A great listener, not so good at talking. - Tends to be blunt. - Interested in whatever is being talked about.

Norman (Paranormal Investigator)

- Has a weird obsession with blood. - Collects haunted dolls. - A bit arrogant. - Very confident and sure of himself. - Not the kindest, but not rude intentionally. - Loves all paranormal. - No respect for anyone or anything.

Marcus (E-boy)

- Loves the aesthetic. - Eats the peel of fruits no matter what. - Screwed taste buds. - Pescatarian (vegetarian + fish). - Also has a TikTok. - Creative. - Talks a lot.

Annus

- A wild card. - One moment he’s serious and all about life and death. - The next he fucks around and does something with pee. - Has an accurate sense of when catastrophic events happen. - Is terrified of dying, but not death itself. - Is afraid of being forgotten.

Anti

- Is a glitch, like a hologram. - If water touches him, he gets hurt. Can glitch out completely. - He’s weightless. Can’t be physically hurt unless he wants to be. - Has his own digital space where he “lives”. - Loves fucking with people. - Gets off of gutting people. - Collects knives. - Loves making music with a launchpad.

Schneeple

- Barely has an accent anymore. - Typical bilingual problems. - Weird mix of words he uses due to how he learned English. - A good surgeon. - Works in the same hospital as Iplier.

Chase

- Absolute asshole. - Drunk 90% of the time (Sad when tipsy, angry when drunk). - Violent. Will quickly get physical with people. - There’s legal reasons he’s not allowed to see his kids.

Robbie

- Undead zombie. - Mental age of a child. Very slow. - Looks rotting but doesn’t smell like rotting. - Can’t see well. Can’t read. - Very kind. Very curious. - Bad at talking.

Jackie

- A true hero. - Kind, gentle, caring. - Has powers of flight, strength, and a bit of speed. - A big amount of stamina. - Muscular and athletic. - Is outside 90% of the time. - Hates being stuck inside.

JJ

- Mute. Uses sign language. - Confused by modern things. - Uses old words and ways of speaking. - Technology is fascinating. - Very kind and gentle. - Immaculate fashion.

Marvin

- Introvert. - Hates being around people. Loathes crowds. - Loves exploring magic and potions. - May use people to test out spells and potions. - Very arrogant and self-obsessed.

[thefanficmonster]

Guidance For The Lost

Emily Davis x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Mentions of death, Dealing with the loss of loved ones, Grieving, Alcohol Abuse (Mentioned)

Genre: Angst, Romance

Summary: How much does a person have to lose before they are finally shown the light that’s supposed to lead them to a better place? Y/N and Emily never knew they were even looking for that guidance in their life until they lost everything but that one need - finding guidance, finding closure, finding who they are and embracing. Preferably together.

Requested by my dear Until Dawn Genius Anon. You are the absolute best. This idea is golden and you take all the credit for it, darling. (Unless the fic is bad, then blame it on me 😋) Hope you enjoy, XOXO

Sorry I went overboard again. I just love writing for this fandom so much 💙

Once upon a time I was happy. I had it all.

A best friend who was always by my side. A best friend whose family accepted me as one of them.

A girlfriend that nothing and no one can compare with. It would be inaccurate of me to describe her with words. The English language doesn’t have adjectives I could use to paint you the picture of who she was and how I felt and still feel about her.

But I can tell you our story, at least the ending portion of it. I can’t recall the beginning cause it will hurt too badly. I can’t bare the pain nor the guilt of being so helpless. 

So here’s how our story ended.

“Where did everyone go all of a sudden?“ I ask no one in particular as I finally look up to take notice of my now vacant surroundings. The living room was buzzing with Josh’s friends just minutes ago, their chatter and laughter not bothering me while I read some interesting Blackwood Pines facts from a booklet Beth showed me.

“No idea!“ I hear my girlfriend call out to me from somewhere near by. “Probably upstairs, no one’s dumb enough to go outside in this weather.”

I get up from the couch and walk into the kitchen where Josh and his best friend Chris are passed out on the kitchen island.

“Dumb and Dumber are out, huh?“ I shake Josh’s shoulder but he doesn’t budge.

Beth is by the kitchen sink, doing the dishes. She turns to look at me, a bright smile on her face, mesmerizing me. “Surprised it took them so long. At the very least they are unconscious so they won’t cause troubles.” Her eyes suddenly widen, “Shit! The others could be destroying the upstairs rooms!”

I frown and shake my head, “They weren’t that drunk when I last saw them.“ I try to assure her.

“The atmosphere can get you carried away and I don’t wanna take any risks.“ This is Momma Beth speaking. Her and Sam are the most responsible of our bunch. They can go from partying to parenting in the blink of an eye. I find it adorable when Beth does it.

“Ok, ok, I’ll go check on them. You stay with these two just in case they wake up.“ I walk through the wooden doors to the staircase area of the lodge. I’ve been here countless times now and I still only know the main points - kitchen, bathroom, living room and the bedroom I always stay in. The rest is a maze if you ask me.

I hear a commotion upstairs and quicken my pace. I follow the voices, not really sure where I’m headed when I see Hannah running in my direction. She looks like she’s been crying and her shirt isn’t completely buttoned up. My mind races with the worst of scenarios, a pit opening in my stomach.

“Hey! Hannah, what’s wrong?!“ I call after her when she passes me without even sparing me a glance.

I’m about to go after her when the rest of the group catches up, all of them running as well.

“Guys, what’s going on?!“ I’m getting kind of scared now, seeing as how all of them have worry and something alike guilt painted on their faces.

“I’ll tell you later. We need to get Hannah.“ Matt tells me as he briefly slows his pace to answer my question.

I stand there confused, but only for a second. Next thing I know, I’ve already outrun the group and I make it outside the lodge first. Well, not really first. I can barely see Beth because of the color of her jacket, the pink dot in the white ongoing snowstorm slowly fading as she keeps heading further into the woods.

“Beth, wait!“ I try to yell but my voice is muffled by the raging wind.

“It was just a prank, Han!“ I hear Emily’s voice, but don’t plan on sticking around to find out what prank she’s talking about.

Just as I’m about to take off after Beth, a hard grips my arm tightly. 

“Where do you think you’re going? We don’t need another person running into the storm.“ Emily says in her typical bitchy way, her tone suggesting how dumb my move would’ve been.

“What if they get hurt, huh? You thought of that?“ I bark at her, narrowing my eyes and shaking my arm out of grasp.

“Oh, you’ll protect them?“ She scoffs, “Give me a break.“

“Guys, cut it out. This is the worst possible time to go at each other’s throats.“ Sam scolds us, breaking up our disagreement.

“What did you do?“ My gaze travels to each of the six guilty and worried faces in front of me. Well, four. Jess and Emily don’t seem too concerned.

I still can’t believe it. A prank. A goddamn prank is the reason why my girlfriend and a really good friend of mine are missing and presumably dead. These people apparently don’t have a shred of a conscience. Not all, but I’m surprised by how easily some took the loss of two friends of ours. 

It’s more than obvious Matt and Ashley will regret participating in that ‘prank’ for the rest of their lives, but Mike, Jess and Emily aren’t too troubled. Then there’s Sam...she regrets not preventing it. Josh regrets not being in the state to run after his sisters and protect them. I regret letting Emily keep me in that spot I was about to take off from to go after Beth. 

We all have regrets. We’ll all carry this and let it weigh us down cause we know how much we could’ve done but didn’t. Or...for some, how wrong much they did.

Believe it or not, it gets worse. And the guilt just keeps piling up. It doesn’t stop hurting, I’m afraid it never will. It. Keeps. Getting. Worse.

“It’s all over now. But it wouldn’t have even started had I spoken up about how uneasy the whole thing made me and everyone else feel. If I had just told him.....if I had just tried to stop him from.....non of this would’ve happened.”

I am being interrogated about the events of the most terrifying night I have ever and will ever experience. I can’t recollect what’s real and what’s not. For all my mind can comprehend I’m still in that lodge. Or I’m dead and this is my brain projecting the moments I thought I’d live through if I survived.

“He would have been ok. All of us would have been ok. I wouldn’t have lost him.“ I don’t try to stop my tears. Why would I? I’m not even sure these are real people in front of me. I’m not sure any of the past 24 hours is real. I’m not sure the specific reason why I’m crying either. It could be because my best friend is dead. It could be because I wasn’t there to prevent it from happening. Or maybe because I didn’t prevent anything. Had I just convinced, or at least tried to, we wouldn’t be here. Nor would we be like this. Broken. Petrified. Traumatized. “He’s fucking gone and I fucking let it happen! It’s all my fault!”

I believe that. It’s the truth that will forever remain an open wound for me. The crack in the broken mirror I’ve turned into.

I lost Beth. I lost Josh. I lost Hannah. All on the same date with just a year difference. I lost the people that defined who I am and who kept me together, reminding me that loneliness is temporary and curable. The cure? - good company. They were my company. They were my family. And now, the affliction is back, ready to kick my teeth in.

Worst part is - I could’ve done something. I should’ve done something, anything to at least try and prevent it all. 

It’s been about two hours since Ashley and Sam left my apartment. I haven’t stepped foot outside since we got back from the mountain which was a month ago. They come and check on me about twice a week to make sure I haven’t died of malnutrition or in my sleep after drinking too much.

I’m not exaggerating. I often forget or just don’t feel like eating. My body is 70% alcohol at all times. Sam, Ashley and Chris thought that if they refused to supply me with my only support I’d stop relying on it. The sad truth is - an addict always finds their way to the substance of their addiction. My neighbor is an addict so he understands me which is why he runs to the convenience store to get me a fix whenever I ask him to. 

Why I don’t leave my home? It’s a ridiculous and unsupported theory, but I’m afraid I might lose it and break down. I have small sprinkles of memories with my Josh and Beth all over the place, not only at home. I mean, I still sleep in the living room cause I can’t go in my bedroom. 

When I bought this apartment I got most of the décor with Beth’s help. I was actually planning to ask her to move in with me when on her birthday, after we got back from the getaway. I did, she didn’t, and despite living alone for the past four or so years, my apartment has felt empty ever since. When I told Josh that I didn’t like sleeping in my room because of all the flashbacks, he offered to help me redecorate. Now that has backfired as well.

I feel too exhausted to attempt redecorating again so I just keep out of my room unless it’s absolutely necessary. 

As I’m reaching for my cheap liquor in the kitchen cabinet the doorbell rings, sending a shock throughout my body that causes my arm to jerk away from the bottle. I’ve become a lot more responsive to sounds - even the tiniest noise gets me on edge and has me looking around like a terrified animal.

“Nice one, guys.“ I mumble to myself as I walk over to open the front door. It’s so much like Sam and Ashley to do a double visit to make sure I’m not half gone in a matter of two hours.

The big surprise I come face to face with is Emily standing on my doorstep. Emily of all people. 

If it’s not yet clear, we aren’t too fond of each other. I’m still holding the incident from two years ago against her. I try to steer clear of her and be as passive aggressive with her as possible. I know that if I spend too much time around her, paying attention to whatever bullshit comes out of her mouth I’ll lose my passiveness and turn to straight aggression. And I don’t wanna be that person. I mean, I am that person, but I don’t wanna act on it. It’s more real if others see how I feel.

“Hey...“ she says, shifting from one foot to the other awkwardly

“What’s up?“ I ask in my monotone, I-don’t-feel-like-talking voice. Honestly, I would’ve put in more effort if it was someone of the gang I’m actually close with, but Emily isn’t getting a crumb of enthusiasm out of me.

“Can I come in?“ she asks hesitantly, pointing at the hallway behind me

It’s an odd move on her part - both out of character and with an odd timing. Though, I don’t have a valid reason to say no. What can I say? ‘Sorry, no. I’m busy getting drunk so I don’t cry.’

“Um, sure.“ I shrug and step aside, allowing her room to pass by me and enter my apartment

She nods and walks in the living room, putting her jacket over the backrest of my reading chair. 

Emily in my apartment, especially on her own, is a bizarre sight. She’s only stepped foot in my place once and that was on the housewarming dinner party I held when I bought it, aka three years ago. 

As though she has read my mind, she says, “It’s been a while since I’ve been here. Not much has changed.”

“Yeah, I don’t like redecorating“ A pang in my chest makes me wince almost obviously. “Have a seat. Want something to drink?“

She shakes her head, settling down on the couch. “No, I’m good. Um...” she pauses. I can tell she’s struggling to say whatever’s troubling her. I can’t guess what it might be, but the least I can do is give her time to put the words together and then spit them out. Her nerves are clearly in overdrive as evidenced by her fidgety hands and lip-biting. “How are you holding up?”

Understanding aside, I feel a dose of anger start coursing my veins. My passiveness is giving way, I guess. Without it as a neutralizer for my powerful rage mixed with grief and guilt, I am a senseless person. I’m afraid of becoming that person. I can truly hurt someone and that’s the last thing I ever wish to do.

I shrug, “Better than Josh.“ The words are cold, giving off the vibe that I’m no longer bothered by any of what happened. We both know that’s not true. It’s just my way of getting the angry message across.

I notice her get even more nervous, her body stiffening. “Um...I know how it is...” My grip’s starting to slip. I can no longer contain it. All that’s been piling up, the water’s rising, spilling over the top of the dam that’s my composure. “I remember what you said...”

Momentarily, my nails stop digging into the flesh of my palms, my brows furrowing in confusion, “What did I say?”

“Uh, I...um...overheard what you said to Chris while we were in the basement.“ She stutters.

Oh, now I remember too.

“How are you keeping it all together?! How are you so calm?! Why aren’t you panicking more?!“ Chris is freaking out, his calm exterior is finally crumbling after so many long hours of terror. I’m surprised he has held onto his sanity for this long. But he’s finally snapping.

“Barely, Chris. Just barely.“ I grab his wrists, hindering him from yanking on his hair any longer. He lifts his head, looking at me with tired eyes. I somehow find it in me to give him an encouraging nod and smile when I say: “Believe me, when all this is over, I’ll be the one crying the hardest.“

“I was. I was crying. I was crying to the point of exhaustion. But no one was there which is just the way I like it. Guilty people cry on their own cause they know they don’t deserve to be comforted! I’m fucking guilty! And so are you! I wouldn’t be dealing with all this bullshit! My girlfriend and best friends would still be alive if you had just been a decent human being! Decent enough to leave the poor girl alone and not play with her emotions when you knew how strongly she felt about Mike! Decent enough to let me go when I wanted to go after them! You were probably right, I would’ve probably been just as helpless as them and died right then and there! But I would’ve been there! Beth wouldn’t have felt that fear without me! I wouldn’t have to go on without her! And now Josh is gone too! All because of what you, Jessica and Michael did!“ I feel blood oozing out of the small cuts I’ve created on my palms, but I don’t care. “You say you couldn’t have known that would happen, and even though you’re right, you’re far from being justified! Friends don’t do that to each other! I’m mad on mine, Beth’s, Hannah’s and Josh’s behalf! And I think I forever will be!“

I open my hands to see the bloody mess they’ve become as a result of the overwhelming emotional pain. Something a lot like adrenaline is preventing me from feeling the stinging I should be feeling but I hate that I can’t feel anything. I want to feel physical pain, it’s better than emotional. That one you can’t bandage up and call it a day.

I look up at Emily who looks like she’s reliving everything just by looking at me and my bloodied hands. I can’t find it in me to apologize, especially not right now. Maybe in an hour or so when I will be able to hear my rational thoughts over the heart’s violent thumping. 

Tears roll down her cheeks as she reaches for my hands over the coffee table between us. I want to pull away, but the comfort I feel when her fingers make contact with mine is something I’ve been longing for, I can’t act on my instinct.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Y/N. I can’t begin to imagine how empty this world feels to you now. Non of us can even try to fill the void Josh and Beth left behind in your life. But....there’s something I want to do for you. Something I think will help you.“

I can’t look at her. It kills me knowing I’m the reason behind her tears. I keep my gaze on our touching hands instead. “What could possibly help me?” I let out a choked whisper. Pretty sure I’d be crying right now, but I have lost the ability to do so.

“I-...I didn’t tell you back at the lodge, but I found Beth’s body in the mines. I mentioned it in my interview after we were rescued. I was convincing enough to get them to agree to go and investigate. I heard back from them two days ago...“ she stops to sniffle and wipe her eyes, “They indeed found her body. They made her a proper grave close to where the lodge was. You can go say your goodbyes now. It may not be how you’d want to, but it’s better than nothing.“

A tear falls from my arm directly on a scar I have on my arm. A scar from that night. “I don’t think I can. I can’t go back there. I can’t say goodbye. I knew it was empty wishing, but I had the tiniest hope they’d be found. Saying goodbye will confirm that I’ve lost her. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

Her grip on my hands tightens, “You don’t have to do it alone.” something about the way she says that forces me to look up and meet her eyes. “I’ll be with you every step of the way. It’s the least I can do for you.”

I shake my head, “Don’t feel like you owe me anything cause you don’t, Em. If anything, you owe it to Beth, not me.”

“I don’t feel like I owe you.“ I haven’t seen her this vulnerable and this humanly fragile before, “You mean a lot to me, Y/N. More than you realize. More than I realized. I want to do this for you because I care for you deeply. Y/N, I...“ her words die down, replaced by a sob, “It’s overwhelming. A lot like falling in love, but I don’t wanna call it that. I don’t wanna scare you or push you away. Not now that I’ve nearly lost you so many times.“

My chest tightens. There’s a lot less space for the air my lungs are desperately trying to grab ahold of. There’s only something similar to what Em just mentioned - the fear and excitement of slowly falling for someone. Not just anyone. Someone you never thought you’d fall for.

“I need time, Em. I can’t guarantee that even time will change much in me. I hope you understand and not expect much from me cause I can’t promise anything anymore.“ 

“I don’t need you to promise me anything. All I’m asking is for you to let me be there for you, now and in the long run. And...let me come with you when you say your goodbye. I don’t want you feeling so much sorrow on your own. Know that no matter what you’re feeling, you can always give half of it to me so it doesn’t break you.”

I have a tough time wrapping my head around the fact that this is the same Emily I wanted to scream at and smack across the face just ten minutes ago. Or you know, the whole time I’ve known her. But I’m a believer in chances and the power they have when it comes to positive change in a person.

“That I think I’ll be able to do.“ I nod, giving her the same smile I gave Beth, Josh and Chris back at the lodge. The ‘we’re sinking, but at least we’re not sinking alone’ smile. She gives me a similar one in return and I know my message has been sent across clear as day.

[marypsue]

hey @gnomewithalaptop it’s more Stranger Things ageswap fic

_____

Mike Harrington has no idea what he’s doing here, out in the woods, alone, where a kid just went missing, in the rain, like an idiot.

He’d rather be home. In the basement. Curled up on the sagging couch with a good Philip K. Dick or Ray Bradbury novel and a big mug of hot chocolate. Doing nothing. But no. He just had to be a good friend, and let Lucas talk him into coming along to the party Max Mayfield’s throwing in the scrapyard in honour of her dad going out of town and leaving his beer fridge unguarded.

“Jennifer Hayes’ll be there,” Lucas had tried, and, “Mike. Seriously. If you don’t go, you’re never getting invited to another party for as long as high school lasts. Do you even know what I had to do to get you invited to this one?” and then finally, “Look. I wouldn’t push it so much, but Dustin’s got that science club thing, and you know Max hangs out with those mouthbreathers Troy and James, and I really don’t want it to be two against one. So can you please, please just come?”

So Mike had made some lame excuse to his dad and Carol about meeting Dustin and Lucas at the library, and set out on his bike for the scrapyard. 

He’s pretty sure he could have just told them where he was actually going. Carol doesn’t give a shit what he and Karen do so long as they don’t get arrested, and his dad – his dad would probably give him a pat on the back. 

Mike’s heard all the stories about what his dad was like in high school. He’s sat through one too many lectures about trying out for the basketball team and going to the homecoming dance and getting out of the basement and into the fresh air and sunshine and maybe making some friends who care more about girls than goblins. If Mike had said where he was really going, his dad probably would’ve sent him off with a six-pack, and instructions not to come home unless it was with Jennifer Hayes in tow.

Which is…exactly why Mike didn’t tell him.

At least it didn’t end up being two against one, though. Oh, no. No, it ended up being three against one, with Max teaming up with Troy and James to rip on Mike while Jennifer sat in uncomfortable silence by the fire and gave him pitying looks, and Lucas got drunk. Mike, it turns out, hates being drunk. And being around drunk people. It reminds him too much of his mom. Of stuff he’d prefer to forget.

So when he got up to go piss, he walked into the woods and kind of just…kept going.

That was maybe fifteen minutes ago, although Mike can’t read the face of his calculator watch in the dark. It’s started to rain, a fine, steady drizzle, cold and piercing. Nobody’s come looking for him. He hasn’t heard anybody call out for him, either. He’s kind of not surprised. Unfortunately, he can’t seem to stop being disappointed.

At least Dustin’ll get a kick out of this when Mike tells him about it tomorrow –

Something moves in the trees up ahead. Something big.

Mike freezes in place, not daring to even breathe. A string of possibilities race through his head, each more horrible than the last. Something happened to his little sister’s best friend last night, after all –

“Joyce?”

Mike breathes out, as a flashlight beam sweeps through the rain, through the trees. He knows that voice. Not well, but –

“Will?” he calls, and the flashlight beam stops.

“Who’s there?”

Mike steps into the light, raising a hand. He can barely make out the scrawny, lanky shape of Will Byers on the other side of the flashlight, but it’s honestly just such a relief to see somebody he knows instead of an axe murderer. “Hi.”

Will lowers the flashlight, just enough so that it’s not shining right in Mike’s face anymore, just enough so that Mike can see his unfortunate bowl cut and suspicious squint. “Mike Harrington? What are you doing out here?”

Mike gestures vaguely back over his shoulder with one hand. “There was a party. It sucked.”

Will’s squint doesn’t get any less suspicious. Mike can’t blame him. They aren’t really friends, but their little sisters are, and in a school the size of Hawkins High, you know who everybody is. Will must know Mike isn’t exactly the kind of guy who goes out to the woods to get drunk on a Monday night.

Then again, neither is Will. “What’re you doing out here?”

Will waves the flashlight, like it should be obvious. “Looking for my sister. Haven’t you heard? I thought your mom would’ve mentioned, I know my dad went in and reported her missing first thing…”

“We don’t really see my mom anymore,” Mike says. “Except at holidays.” And unannounced late some nights – or maybe it’d be more accurate to call it early some mornings – although that hasn’t happened for a while. “But, yeah. Karen said.”

Will’s shoulders kind of slump. More than before, anyway. Mike’s never really noticed, because, well, it’s Will, who blends into most backgrounds, but – he’s really shot up since middle school. He used to be such a shrimp. Now, he’s almost as tall as Mike. Except, between what Mike remembers about him and the slouch, somehow Mike hadn’t noticed.

He wonders, with a sudden sharp feeling of disorientation, what else he hasn’t noticed about Will Byers.

“Yeah.” Will shakes his head. “I should probably just head home, though. It’s getting pretty late. And it’s so dark. And the rain…”

He just sounds so…defeated. Mike thinks about how Karen had picked at her dinner. About his so-called best friend who hasn’t been able to quit locking lips with Max fucking Mayfield for long enough to even notice Mike is gone. Will’s thin jacket is already dark with water on the shoulders. He must have been out here since before the rain started.

“I’ll help you look,” Mike says, and Will looks at him like a deer in headlights. Like a rabbit caught in a trap, not sure if the human looming over it is here to set it free or shoot it dead.

“What – really?”

Mike shrugs. “Sure. Joyce is my little sister’s best friend. And it’s not like I’m going back to that stupid party.”

Will’s smile is a brief, bright flicker. “Okay.”

 …

 She runs.

The rain hisses down around her, turning the forest’s carpet of leaves slick as ice. Her own breath is harsh and ragged in her ears, her heart a frantic drumbeat. The wound in her side throbs and burns in time with it, pumping hot blood out over her fingers. There’s a stitch growing there too, stealing her breath.

She can’t stop. She runs.

Her boots slip, and she’s on her knees. Free hand outflung to catch herself against a tree. Barely feels the sting of the palm, bloodied.

Behind her, shouts. The crack of a gunshot.

She scrambles back to her feet. She runs.

 …

 “…so then, Joyce pops out from under the bed, yelling something about how I’ll never take them alive, and goes rocketing straight for my kneecaps…and anyway, that’s how I ended up with this scar on my chin.”

Will lets out a surprised shout of laughter, one he hastily swallows, like he’s not sure it’s allowed. “Yeah,” he says, though, still grinning. “She’s so quiet and nice at school, nobody ever believes me when I tell them what a little monster she can be.”

“Oh, you want to talk about little monsters? You can’t keep anything in the house that you don’t want Karen finding out about. Dad gave up trying to hide our Christmas presents when she was six. He tried putting out decoys for a couple years, but -”

Will holds up a hand for quiet. Mike stops talking. They both stop walking, too. In the sudden silence, the whisper of the rain through the trees sounds loud, rising and falling almost like human voices on the very edge of hearing.

And then something rustles. Something goes crack.

Mike whirls. So does Will, swinging the flashlight around in a wide, sweeping arc. The rain glitters through the moving beam.

And drips down the pale, startled face of the person skidding to a halt in the trees a few feet away.

For a breathless moment, no one moves. No one speaks. The – girl? Girl – standing in the trees, staring at them like they are axe murderers, is about their age, but she isn’t anyone Mike’s ever seen before. He’s pretty sure he’d remember if any of the girls at school had a shaved head. Or wore that much black eye makeup.

“Mike,” Will says, urgently, sounding worried, and Mike takes his eyes from the girl’s wide ones just long enough to glance over. “She’s – you’re bleeding!”

The girl’s eyes flick down. Mike follows her gaze, sees that the arm she’s wrapped around her middle is clutching at her left side, under her oversized black leather jacket, just at the bottom of her ribs.

And Will’s right. There’s a huge dark stain spreading across the pale grey knit of her sweater, under her hand. Mike can’t tell, in the flashlight’s glare, if her nails are painted black or if they’re just coated in gore.

“Whoa,” Mike blurts. “That’s a lot of blood.” He looks around. He’s not sure how far they’ve walked, but – “The road should be around here somewhere. We can probably flag somebody down. Or – Will, we can take her back to your house, right? Then we can call an ambulance, get her to a hospital -”

“No!”

“What?”

The girl leans heavily against the nearest tree, hunching over. She’s breathing hard, from running and also probably pain. But she manages, “No…hospital.”

Will frowns in confusion at the girl’s words. “Mike’s right. That’s a lot of blood. You might really be hurt, and I only know first aid…”

“Why don’t you want to go to a hospital?” Mike asks, and the girl’s eyes flick to him. Her glare is, frankly, terrifying. The raccoon eyes don’t help. “What are you? A criminal? A bank robber? A murderer?”

The girl doesn’t take her eyes off Mike’s face. Her voice is low and full of menace, even though Mike’s starting to seriously wonder if she’d fall over if she tried to take a step. “Yes.”

Mike probably has a deathwish, or something. “So which one is it? Bank robber? Murderer?”

If either Dustin or Lucas were here, they’d be hissing at him to shut up. But Will doesn’t. He’s just looking at the girl.

Mike thinks he really should’ve expected it when Will asks, all intense, “Do you know where my sister is?”

The girl looks back and forth between them, disbelief clear on her narrow face. Mike can’t blame her. He can’t actually believe himself and Will either. “…sister?”

“Joyce. She’s twelve. Dark hair. Looks a lot like me?” Will takes in the girl’s confusion, and says, “She’s missing. The last place anybody saw her was on the road up here. Have you seen her?”

The girl shakes her head no. She’s swaying, now, Mike notices, those piercing eyes starting to droop. “They got…another one?”

“What?” Mike and Will start talking at once, over each other.

“Who are they? What do you mean, ‘they got another one’?”

“Who has my sister?”

The girl doesn’t answer. She just sways, one more time, and then topples face-first to the ground.

This time, there isn’t anything coherent in Mike and Will’s shouts. The flashlight beam sweeps crazily over the carpet of leaves as they both scramble over to the fallen girl. She doesn’t react when Will rolls her over onto her back, the arm that had been clutching her side flopping over into the dirt to reveal the bloody hole in her sweater – and her side.

“Oh my god,” Will mutters, under his breath, as he peels back her enormous jacket and yanks up the sweater to get a better look at the wound. “This - this looks like somebody shot her. Mike? Can you help me get this jacket off her?”

Mike doesn’t answer. His attention’s been caught by something else.

“Mike?” There’s an edge of annoyance creeping into Will’s voice.

Wordlessly, Mike holds up the girl’s limp arm. Shows Will the tattoo inked into the inside of her pale wrist.

011.

“What is that?” Will asks. Mike shakes his head.

“I think…this might be the reason she didn’t want to go to a hospital.” He looks up, into the trees, in the direction the girl had come from. But all he sees is still, whispering darkness.

He makes a decision.

“Can you do anything to help with that?” he asks Will, with a nod towards the girl’s injured side.

“If you can tear some strips off the bottom of your shirt, I can bandage it up so it won’t bleed so much,” Will says, dabbing carefully at the girl’s side with a clean edge of her sweater. “I don’t think it’s as bad as it looks. She just got grazed. But it bled a lot.”

“Great,” Mike says, shrugging off his windbreaker and pulling his tee shirt over his head. “If you can get her fixed up enough to move – I know somewhere safe we can take her. Somewhere where whoever’s after her won’t find her.”

“How do you know somebody’s after her?”

Mike looks down at the number tattooed on the girl’s wrist again. Thinks of a plastic hospital bracelet wrapped around another too-skinny, pale wrist. With a name printed on it.

To identify. To track.

“Call it a hunch,” he says.