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underground-secret · 3 months

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The Hunter and The Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: Sam, Dean, and Y/N investigate a haunting in an abandoned asylum rescuing two teenagers who ventured in, they become trapped with the spirits of those who had died in a riot decades ago, one of which was a doctor who causes extreme rage in his victims.

Warnings: Cannon violence, murder and mentions of suicide, arguing, banter, usage and mention of guns, ghosts, panicking/ anxiety, a little bit of angst

A/N: There will be a confusing part where your like who is she talking about and to that I say all in due time. Also i’m sorry it seems like i’m giving up on this (I didn’t realize I posted the last part a month ago) IM NOT i’m just super busy with school, if you’ve taken APUSH you get it—i’m fighting for my life.

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44, @bonkydarnes, @star-yawnznn

Word Count: 11,033

Asylum

(Master list, Previous Ch., Next Ch)

I let out a big sigh, slumping in my chair as I do so, my head falling onto my laptop's keyboard, “How is your dad moving from place to place so fast”, I grumble into the keys. “Literally how!” My head shoots up as I complain, looking at Dean who sat across from me with his head propped up on one hand as he stared down at his fathers journal.

His eyes meet mine even as his head faces the book, his stare tells me everything I need to know. He’s also very frustrated, certainly more than me and he too has no answers.

I contemplate slamming my head against my keyboard when Sam walks back into their hotel room. His phone clasped tightly in his hand after he just went outside to call several people. “Caleb hasn't heard from him?” Dean asks his approaching brother even though the answer is written on his disappointed face.

“Nope. And neither has Jefferson or Paster Jim. What about the journal? Any leads in there?” Sam shoots back, referencing people the Winchesters knew. I had heard of them too, most of them really good friends of the boys but I never actually met them.

Now it’s Dean's turn to answer and complain, “No, same as last time I looked. Nothing I can make out.... I love the guy, but I swear, he writes like frickin’ Yoda.”

“You know, maybe we should call the Feds. File a missing person’s.” Sam sighs, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“But isn’t he like, you know…wanted?” I ask, considering being a Hunter comes with breaking a lot of laws, like a lot. “That and Dad'd be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail” Dean adds.

Sam’s face contorts into anger, “I don't care anymore.” Suddenly a cell phone rings from across the room, Dean's phone to be exact who immediately goes over to his bag. Sam huffs something between a sigh and a frustrated grunt, “After all that happened back in Kansas, I mean...he should've been there, Dean. You said so yourself. You tried to call him and...nothing.”

“I know!” Dean yells loudly, snapping, the sound echoing off the ill painted walls. He rummages through his duffel rougher, “Where the hell is my cellphone?”

“You know, he could be dead for all we know.”

“Don't say that!” He snaps again, “He's not dead! He's – he's…”

“He’s not dead, your father is good at what he does. I'm sure he’s just caught up in something.” I tried to reason, turning in my chair so I could face both boys.

“Like that’s a good excuse” Sam spits back.

“Hey, I never said it was! But it certainly is a better and more optimistic view than death!” I lecture, my face scrunching up in offense.

“Huh.” Dean mumbles quietly getting our attention, “I don't believe it.” His words stopped Sam from saying anything further to me. His focus turned back on his brother, “What?” He asks.

“It's, uh....It's a text message. It's coordinates.” Dean answers and it’s clear who the message is from. I want to turn to Sam and say ‘Ha! told you so!’ but I hold back on the childish, but totally correct, notion. Before Sam can say anything snarky about the message Dean cuts him off, “Can I steal that?” He asks me to point to my open laptop. I nod my head quickly, “Go ahead.”

He walks back over to the table turning my laptop until it’s facing him and where he sat. “You think Dad was texting us?” Sam asks as his brother types away.

“He's given us coordinates before.” Dean answers.

“The man can barely work a toaster, Dean.”

“To be fair, a toaster and coordinates are pretty different. All you need is a paper map” I cut in, earning a hard glance from Sam. I could not explain why he suddenly had a problem with me other than the fact I disagreed with him, which in that case makes him just as childish as I wanted to be.

“Sam, it's good news! It means he's okay, or alive at least.” Dean adds, arguing.

“Well, was there a number on the caller ID?” Sam pushes, still somehow convinced it isn’t his Dad which when I think about it is pretty harsh. Would he rather his dad was dead? Probably not.

Dean answers, “Nah, it said 'unknown'.”

“Well, where do the coordinates point?” Sam follows up.

“That's the interesting part. Rockford, Illinois.”

“Ok, a little random, but what’s specifically so interesting about Illinois?” I ask this time.

“I checked the local Rockford paper. Take a look at this.” He turns my laptop around with a news article zoomed in on a black and white photo of a cop, “This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife, then puts the gun in his mouth, blows his brains out. And earlier that night, Kelly and his partner responded to a call at the Roosevelt Asylum.”

“Okay, I'm not following. What has this have to do with us?” Sam asks, again I want to say something about him asking a dumb question but I hold back not wanting any more sass from him or anyone.

“Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal. Let’s see…” He scoots my laptop back, pulling open his Dads stuffed journal that sat on the table. “Here. Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths – till last week at least. I think this is where he wants us to go.”

Sam snorts, “This is a job... Dad wants us to work a job.”

Dean shrugs, “Well, maybe we'll meet up with him? Maybe he's there?”

“Maybe he's not? I mean, he could be sending us there, by ourselves, to hunt this thing.” Sam snaps back.

“Does it matter? I mean we know it’s a hunt and we get to help people. I don’t see a loss in going.” I say, half shrugging.

“This doesn't strike either of you as weird? The texting? The coordinates?” Sam argues, his head snapping from his brother to me. It’s a good point to be honest but what else is there to do? Though I do not make that question vocal.

“Sam! Dad's tellin' us to go somewhere, we're goin'.” Dean yells, final word. Sam makes a nasty bitchface and sighs, saying nothing more.

I lean against the cold exterior of the Impala, my arms crossed against my chest to fend off any bit of the cold night even with my layers on. I could go inside the car but standing outside, right at the front of the car, felt more productive while waiting for the boys to finish their whole “skit” for information.

Dean would go in and antagonize the partner of the cop from the article which would inevitably fail. So Sam would be waiting there telling Dean, who he pretends to not know, to (in a lack of a better word) f- off so that Sam could weasel his way into questioning.

A very complicated plan for a bunch of dummies. I sigh again, my eyes closing in the progress, I try to force the tension out of my body, all the arguing infecting my usual good mood.

I open my eyes back up only to round the car and find it locked. My head falls forward, my chin touching my chest, of course Dean would lock his precious car. I glanced around me, barely anyone lingering outside except some people up against the bar smoking or leaving to go elsewhere, no one was looking so I gingerly tapped the handle, a swirl of purple mist leaving my fingertip until it slithered its way into the car and its mechanics. With a satisfying click the little lock pokes up, I grin as I pull open the door leaning in only to rustle through my bag and pull out my book.

Dean would have to forgive me, though my little trick did nothing to harm the car to begin with. I push down the lock, jabbing into my palm as I do so, closing the door behind me I make my way to the front of the car once more leaning against it as I open up my worn book of Little Women for the hundredth time. The pages had long begun to yellow though it only went as far as a light yellow, still the crisp smell of an old book wafted into my nose, serenity finding me.

Suddenly the bar door slams open, startling me for a moment after getting lost in the prospect of an escape. Dean quickly walks over to where I was waiting looking extra grumpy, his eyebrows scrunched together with his arms thrown out, “He pushed me so hard!” He nearly yells, his choice of words were childish at worst and yet it was very amusing. “Why are you reading that again?” He asks, suddenly pointing at my book.

“‘Cause I love it” I smile simply.

“Haven’t you read that a hundred times?” he asks, moving next to me, leaning against the car too.

“Give or take” I laugh lightly, “It’s one of my many comfort books.” I mark my spot before shutting the book. “I’m guessing your silly plan worked?” I ask him as he leans closer to me. He gives me that devilish smirk, “Not silly if it worked, sweetheart.”

Some time later Sam exits the bar, “Shoved me kinda hard in there, buddy boy” Dean spits.

“I had to sell it, didn't I? It's method acting.” Sam bites back, just tension building on more tension. But there’s only so much the atmosphere or people can take before it blows up.

“Huh?”

“It’s like immersing yourself emotionally and psychologically with your character” I whisper before closing my book shut. But instead of clarity crossing over Dean's face he looks just as confused if not a little more. Sam sighs, “Never mind.”

“Okay so what’d he tell you?” I ask.

“So, Walter Kelly was a good cop. Head of his class, even-keeled, he had a bright future ahead of him.” Sam explains. Basically nothing to suggest him suddenly committing a murder suicide.

“What about at home?” Dean shoots back.

“He and his wife had a few fights, like everybody, but he was mostly smooth sailing. They were even talking about having kids.” Sam answers, I frown at the last part there was a whole life they could have lived.

“Alright, so either Kelly had some deep-seated crazy waiting to bust out, or something else did it to him.” Dean acknowledges.

“Well did anything happen as of supper recently that would even hint to a psychotic break?” I ask even though based on what we have it didn’t seem likely.

“No” Sam shakes his head, “Not that he mentioned at least.” I nod my head making a small mental note of that possibility, although unlikely, just in case.

“What'd Gunderson tell you about the asylum?” Dean questions.

“A lot.”

A loud horn blares from a nearby truck as Sam makes his way over the tall fence. With Dean slightly ahead of me I begin to climb the chain linked fence, I get a small jumping start clutching on to the cold fence. I shove my shoes into the little groves as I make my way up swiftly, being able to lift my legs high enough that I could make it to the top in about four moves. I balance myself on top of it before swinging my leg over it, I reposition myself to dangle slightly as my feet find purchase in the fence when about half way down I just decide to jump the rest of the way, landing on my feet in an almost crouched position.

The asylum itself didn’t look like it was falling apart but the overgrown bushes on the plot, the moss covering the building and the boarded up windows were a tell-tale tell sign enough that it was abandoned. The only thing keeping it from being entirely creepy was the early morning sun.

The door had no lock on it most likely from all the trespassing. But just as the door fell open an immediate musty smell hit my nose from all the trash covering the floor from beer bottles and cans to random bits of paper. Every surface of the walls was covered by either graffiti or mold, only small hints of the old green wallpaper left behind. “So apparently the cops chased the kids here....into the south wing.” Sam points to the sign hung over the door. The letters were mostly peeling, just another sign of the aging building.

“South wing, huh?” Dean breathes out, “Wait a second.” He pulls out his Dada journal from the inside pocket of his coat, flipping the pages until he found whatever he was looking for, “1972. Three kids broke into the south wing, only one survived. Way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting up the place.”

“So the South Wing seems to be the route of this all” I remark.

“But if the kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a ton more deaths?” Dean points out, looking up from the journal. Sam notes the rusted, broken chains hanging from the handle of the door, “Looks like the doors are usually chained. Could've been chained up for years.”

“Yeah, to keep people out. Or to keep something in.” Dean comments.

I cringe, “Is it really necessary to say such ominous things?”

“What? It’s the truth” Dean shrugs and I roll my eyes.

“Are you guys done?” Sam asks looking at us impatiently

“Yeah yeah open the door” I say before quickly adding a mumble of, “I hope a rat jumps out at you”

Sam looks at me with a mix of being offended and being annoyed, “Why would you say that?”

“Sorry!” I say half meaning it, “It’s an abandoned building and all so you know…rats”

“Just” Dean starts, him being the annoyed one now, “Open the door.” Sam nods, carefully opening the rusted door with a creek revealing a long creepy hallway, but at last no rats scurry out. The long hall was somehow only slightly better than the entrance with the walls peeling of its paint, most of it replaced by mold which only increases as the hallway extends, if we get sick we’ll know why that’s for sure.

“Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel.” Dean jokes, lighting the mood as he pulls out his EMF reader, referencing the movie Six Sense. “Dude, enough.” Sam groans.

“I'm serious. You gotta be careful, all right? Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you got going on.” Dean says. Without missing a beat, Sam bites back, “I told you, it's not ESP! I just have strange vibes sometimes. Weird dreams.”

“Yeah, whatever. Don't ask, don't tell.”

“Anything going on with your EMF?” I ask, hoping to change the subject. “Nope. Of course, it doesn't mean no one's home.” Dean answers.

“Well, spirits can't appear during certain hours of the day.” Sam adds.

“Yeah, the freaks come out at night.” Dean comments.

The room falls quiet for a moment before Dean speaks up again, “Hey Sam, who do you think is the hotter psychic: Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?” Sam pushes his brother in response. “Oh definitely Jennifer Love Hewitt, I mean did you see her in Shortcut to Happiness ‘cause…wow” I answer before quickly adding, “No offense Sammy.” But Sam pushes me lightly too, a laugh bubbling up from my chest as I nearly knock into the moldy wall.

We enter a room that smells worse than the main entrance area, the culprit of the rotting flesh smell most likely being whatever pink goop is spilling out of a glass jar with liquid on a table in the far corner. This asylum was truly amazing at one-upping itself in terms of being horrible. The entire room is bad itself, all sorts of equipment they used on patients long ago when they had no clue what a mental illness really was or how to help people who struggled with it.

“God, they did such horrible things to these poor people” I remarked, stepping deeper into the room. The sight of a clearly used surgery table sending a shiver down my spine. Dean lets out a low whistle, “Electro-shock. Lobotomies…”

“Did you know JFK’s sister got a lobotomy done because she suffered from seizures and mood swings. But it only wound up leaving her permanently incapacitated and unable to properly speak, only goes to show how little they knew about all that stuff” I say, recalling a fact I remember reading about somewhere in an article.

“‘That one of your fun facts?” Dean inquires, clearly humoring me. I hum a “mhm” as I bend down slightly to look at a glass container filled with some sort of yellow liquid. I almost expect something equally as gross to be inside but there isn’t.

“So. Whaddaya think? Ghosts possessing people?” Dean asks out loud to no one in particular.

“Maybe. Or maybe it's more like Amityville, or the Smurl hunting.” Sam answers, listing out examples of cases in which people claimed the devil had told them to do something bad and or possessed them. “Or Son of Sam, though that guy was just a basket case who admitted to lying about that demon bit” I add.

“Spirits driving them insane. Kinda like my man Jack in The Shining.” Dean quips in, always with his references. I look up from the vials of I don’t know what to see him grinning, a smile forming on my own face at his charming expression.

“Dean.” Sam calls out, gaining his brother's attention, “When are we going to talk about it?” Uneasiness slips its way into the cracks of the building, finding us. “Talk about what?” Dean asks back, but I have a feeling he knows what he’s talking about, it was clear as day. “About the fact Dad's not here.” Sam answers, already clearly annoyed. I straightened up, moving an inch closer to where they stood in the middle of the room in case I had to break up another fight. It hadn’t been anywhere close to a week from the last time I had to do so back in Kansas. “Oh. I see.” Dean replies, “How ’bout...never.”

Sam rolls his eyes, “I'm being serious, man. He sent us here…” Dean cuts in immediately, “So am I, Sam. Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here. We'll pick up the search later.” They moved closer to each other with each word they spat, up until they got close enough that they would be able to throw a punch if they decided to. “It doesn't matter what he wants.” Sam argues.

“See. That attitude? Right there?” Dean points at him, “That is why I always get the extra cookie.”

“Guys come on, you can argue this later let’s just finish this hunt” I sigh, crossing my arms across my chest. Sam glares at me as if to say “stay out of this”, I get why they’re upset but all this arguing gets us nowhere and it’s beginning to get annoying. Sam turns back to his brother, “Dad could be in trouble, we should be looking for him. We deserve some answers, Dean. I mean, this is our family we're talking about.”

“I understand that, Sam, but he's given us an order.” Dean replies rather calmly. I don’t necessarily like John, knowing everything he put my boys through made it hard to. But he was their Dad and Dean wanted my help and so I will help find their Dad, even if I mostly agree with Sam. “So what, we gotta always follow Dad's orders?” Sam spits, and I almost hate the fact that I do agree with him.

I try to ignore their arguing, knowing they wouldn’t let up, it wasn’t the sort of argument where someone won. I open a drawer near me, cobwebs and multiple clippings from old patient files filling it. “Of course we do.” I hear Dean answer.

I carefully take the clippings out, trying to avoid the cobwebs. I look through the handful quickly everything either ripped off or eradicated except bits of the Doctor's name. “If you're done over there it seems the main evil doctor was ‘Sanford Ellicott’. We should probably research him and the south wing, see what we can find” I say plainly, hoping this could all be over with soon so at least they would stop fighting.

I keep my legs up on the soft chair, my knees to my chest as I read my book. Dean is sitting next to me, his arm resting on the back of my chair, his legs spread widely. From my peripheral vision I see him stare up at the ceiling clearly bored as we wait for his brother to be done in therapy, or really done questioning the apparent son of Dr.Ellicott.

He groans, the noise coming from deep in his chest. I put my bookmark back in my book, shutting it and putting it next to me. I put my arms on my propped up knees lying the side of my face down on them, my cheek squishing against my arm as I peer at Dean. The immediate thought of how good he looks with his head thrown back, a very light stubble gracing his face, his eyes looking greener with the light shining from behind us and—

I shove the thought far into the back of my mind, it wasn’t the time for this not at all. Not even a little. “‘You okay?” I ask softly.

He rolls his head to the side, eyeing me “Sammy’s taking too damn long. He’s already pissed me off.”

“He wouldn’t be taking long unless it was necessary” I answer, smiling at his demeanor. He groans again, “Do you wanna go get coffee? I saw a place a block away, Sam can text when he’s done.” I offer, hoping it would distract him from being so pissed off. He leans his head up, squinting at me, “Is this your attempt at curing my boredom?”

“That depends, is it working?” I squint back at him as I lift my head from my arms, laughter threatening to bubble from my lips.

“Yes” He nods, throwing his hand on my knee, “Let’s go” but he keeps his hand there, a giddy nervousness settling itself in my stomach.

“See I told you couples therapy works!” a hushed voice says catching our attention. I look up to see a red headed girl and her tan boyfriend walking past us without trying to hide their stares, “Wer— we aren’t—“ I try to say loud enough for them to hear but my voice doesn't reach them, “Actually” I sigh, my face feeling warm, “it’s probably best if they just go to therapy.”

I turn my head back towards Dean, finding him already looking at me with scrunched eyebrows, studying me as if he was contemplating something. I place my hand over his, only realizing then my hands were cold when compared to his warm ones, “Ready?” I ask softly. He clears his throat abruptly, nodding his head as he removes his hand from my knee and gets up. I make sure to grab my book as I follow suit, but we only reach the door when a familiar tall figure walks right past us.

Dean's body language changes, he turns back to me confused and annoyed before pushing through the door. Tension clearly already has made its home in his back and shoulders. “Dude! You were in there forever, we were about to leave you. What the hell were you talking about?” He calls out towards his brother, easily matching his pace.

“Just the hospital, you know.” Sam answers plainly. I jog to catch up to them and their stupid long legs, “What’d you find?” I ask.

“The south wing? It's where they housed the really hard cases. The psychotics, the criminally insane.” “Sounds cozy.” Dean remarks.

“Yeah. And one night in '64, they rioted. Attacked staff. Attacked each other.” Sam elaborates.

“Any deaths? Dean follows up.

“Some patients, some staff. I guess it was pretty gory. Some of the bodies were never even recovered, including our chief of staff, Ellicott.”

“Did they…stuff him somewhere. I mean I feel like the place is only so big, right?” I hesitantly say.

Sam shrugs, “Cops scoured every inch of the place.”

“That's grim.” Dean murmurs just as we reach the Impala. “Yeah. So, they transferred all the remaining patients and closed the hospital down” Sam says as he rounds the car.

“So, to sum it up, we've got a bunch of violent deaths and a bunch of unrecovered bodies.” Dean lists out.

“And a bunch of angry spirits.” Sam adds

“Cute.” I remark, sarcastically.

“Let's check out the hospital tonight.” Dean finishes, opening the car door.

I shine my flashlight over the asylum, naturally in the darkness of the night it was far creepier than it was only hours before. I follow behind the boys as they enter the dingy entrance, making sure I don’t hit into the duffle bag hanging from Dean's shoulder. “‘You guys getting anything?” I ask since they hold the equipment. Dean holds his EMF reader out in front of him, “Yeah, big time.”

“This place is orbing like crazy.” Sam adds, looking at the screen of the camera he holds. “Eww, why would you say it like that?” I cringe before mimicking the way he said “orbing.” Sam turns around slowly, glaring at me “How mature of you, Y/n” he deadpans. “Hey i’m just calling it as it is” I respond in defense. He glares at me one last time, turning back around and I hear him mimic what I said. I’m about to hit him on the arm when Dean starts speaking, he looks between us, ultimately choosing to ignore our childish behavior, “There’s probably multiple spirits out and about.”

Sam added “And if these uncovered bodies are causing the haunting…”

“We gotta find ’em and burn ’em.” Dean finishes, “Just be careful though. The only thing that makes me more nervous than a pissed off spirit... is the pissed off spirit of a psycho killer.” With that we keep walking until we hit the same room we were in the last time we were here, not having gone any further than that the first time around.

We walk a few feet further separating into three different rooms. I scanned my flashlight over the dark room, it had no windows though even if it did it would have been boarded up meaning no natural light to begin with had it been daytime. It was a relatively small room with more graffiti lining the originally white walls. I take a single step into the room, glass crunching underneath my shoe, I lift my foot immediately, kicking the broken glass bottle to the side.

I move further into the room, an overturned desk and a long gone broken lamp on the floor. Must have been a little office, I think to myself as I walk over to the desk finding a small knocked over filing cabinet. I nudged the metal cabinet with my foot, testing to see if anything wanted to make an appearance…like a rat.

When nothing comes from it I twirl my finger, an invisible force turning the cabinet right side up making it accessible. I pull each draw open, still cautious of any critters crawling out, hoping that there would be some hint as to where to look for the unfound bodies. “Y/n” I hear my name called out from behind me.

“Yeah?” I say turning around but there’s no one there. I shine my flashlight first on the doorway, only shadows dancing on the outskirts of my light. I purse my lips, a small pinch of fear forming itself in my heart. I move my flashlight slowly to shine in the corner, every hair on my body standing up. An old man with deep sunken eyes stands in the corner, his body permanently hunched over with his head tilted to the side. Countless needles stick out from his ghostly body, piercing through his hospital gown.

My mouth goes slack with an almost scream in warning to the boys. Still the man doesn't move, he just stares at me which is arguably worse than if he lunged at me, his mouth moves as if in an attempt to say something but his jaw is broken and the words come out in an extended noise. “b….b…b—“ The loud sound of a shotgun goes off just across from the man, my head snaps in the direction of the doorway, a breathless Dean standing there his gun still pointed at the man. “We thought something happened!” Sam half yells, standing right behind his brother.

“I literally haven’t moved from here” I respond, looking back at the corner where he stood. “You okay sweetheart?” Dean asks. I nod, “Yeah, I mean he didn’t do anything he was just—“

“Standing there” Sam finishes my sentence, “See I told you!”—he nudges his brother—“There’s something weird with the spirits here, they aren’t being aggressive-“ I cut him off this time, concern and confusion making my eyebrows scrunch together, “Wait you encountered a spirit?”

“You didn’t hear Sammy scream for us? Or the gun?” Dean asks. I look between them only being more confused, “No, what are you talking about?!” Except they don’t answer, only looking at each other and then back at me, eyes wide, “Alright something really is going on” Dean admits.

They begin to shuffle out of the room, and I follow, we walk aimlessly down the hall in thought when suddenly a noise like metal scraping against the floor comes from a room just steps away. Dean immediately raises his shotgun, carefully entering the room with Sam and I acting as the lightning. The room had a singular upturned bed facing the only window in the small room, a ragged sheet covering the bed barely concealing the top of a blonde head. We all share a look, bracing ourselves, Sam reaches out tipping over the bed causing it to come down with a loud crash. A young girl sits crouched on the floor, panting and grasping her chest.

“It's alright, we're not going to hurt you. It's okay. What's your name?” Dean asks the poor girl, moving his gun down and away from the girl. “Katherine. Kat.” She answers, peering up at us with her big brown eyes.

“What are you doing here!?” Sam half yells at her. I hit his arm, “You suck at comforting people” I mumbled loud enough for him to hear, nearly missing the glare I received in return. I move past Dean leaning down towards the girl, offering my hand to help her up. You can comfort someone without making them seem incapable. She eyes me carefully for a beat before shakily reaching up and taking my hand, “Um. My boyfriend, Gavin” she answers as I lift her up. “Is he here?” Dean asks.

She lets go of my hand reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears, “Somewhere. He thought it would be fun, try and see some ghosts” she explains, "I thought it was all just...you know. Pretend. I've seen things. I heard Gavin scream and... “

“Alright.” Dean responds, pausing for a beat as if to go over the plan he most definitely already made, “Kat? Come on. Sam's gonna get you out of here and then we're gonna find your boyfriend.”

“No! No. I'm not going to leave without Gavin. I'm coming with you.” Kat declares, looking frantically between us all.

“It's no joke around here, okay. It's dangerous.” Dean lectures, his voice getting increasingly louder. “That's why I gotta find him” she answers, her voice stern and straight regardless of being clearly shaken up. Dean meets Sam and then my eyes, “Alright, I guess we gunna split up then. Y/N with Sam, Kat with me. Let’s go.”

I lead the way out this time, Sam right next to me as we go down hallway after hallway. Each one seemingly more intricate than the last, if that was even possible. I hope Sam is keeping track of where we are because I’m already lost.

“Gavin?” I call out, peeking around each hallway corner. Is it possible he left? No he wouldn’t leave his girlfriend, right? Though the asylum is huge and he could be anywhere—“Y/N! Over here!” Sam calls out from down the hallway to my left. I swirl around heading towards him, crouched down near a rouge hospital bed, I hear him speak as I approach “Hey, Gavin. It's okay, I’m here to help.”

“Who are you?” He responds, fixing his brown hair as he pushes himself away from Sam knocking into the wall behind him in the process. “My name is Sam, that’s Y/N” he gestures towards me, “Uh, we found your girlfriend.”

“Kat?” He asks his brown eyes widening, he gets up revealing his height. He isn't as tall as Sam, probably closer to Dean's height then anything but he was certainly taller then me and his girlfriend. “Is she alright?”

“Yeah. She's worried about you. Are you okay?” Sam responds.

“I was running. I think I fell.” He lifts his hand to the side of his head, his corduroy jacket moving with him. “What were you running from?” I ask.

“There was...there was this girl. Her face. It was all messed up.”

“Okay listen, did this girl... did she try and hurt you?” Sam follows up, asking carefully. “What? No, she...uh…”

“She what?” Sam asks, impatience on the tip of his tongue.

“She...kissed me.”

…The hall falls silent, neither of us expecting that to be his answer. I’ve never heard of a case in which someone was kissed by a ghost. I mean that’s just disgusting and horrifying, no amount of mouthwash can fix that…or therapy. “Uh...um...but...but she didn't hurt you, physically?” Sam finally says.

“Dude! She kissed me. I'm scarred for life!” Gavin yells, his eyes widening again. “Well, trust me, it could have been worse.” Sam replies, again not much on the comforting side. Plus I feel like I’d rather be thrown ten feet then kissed by a ghost. “I’m sorry we have to pressure you like this now after you just experienced that but is there anything else you remember?” I ask softly.

“She uh...actually, she tried to whisper something in my ear.” He answers shyly, almost embarrassed by all this. “What?” Sam shoots back.

“I don't know. I ran like hell.” He answers truthfully.

“That’s the third encounter without an attack” Sam thinks out loud. Gavin glares at him sharply, “Oh…Um…besides the…Uh…kissing” Sam adds.

“Can we really trust that the South Wing really did have violent patients? I mean the workers here aren’t exactly the most reliable considering everything they’ve done to these poor people” I mention.

“She’s got a point” Gavin intervenes. We both look at him, “Um yeah. But what if they were trying to tell us something?” Sam says.

“You mean like some hint as to where uh…” I look over at Gavin knowing I can’t exactly say a rotting body somewhere, “you know is” I mumble looking back at Sam. “Yeah” he answers just as a loud scream rings out from afar. We all share a look of confusion and worry, “That sounds like Kat!” Gavin says. Not waiting a second later we go off running in the direction of the screaming, just about everything you're not supposed to do.

Just down the hall Dean is banging on a huge metal door with a pipe. “What’s going on?” Sam asks just as we approach.

“She's inside with one of them.” He answers his breath a little labored. Kay screams again, “Help me!!”

“Kat!” Gavin yells back banging on the door.

“Get me outta here!” She shouts.

I hide my hand behind my hip making sure to look down, to avoid having to explain anything to Gavin later. With my concealed hand I reached it over to the metal door, my fingertips barely brushing the cold exterior before a hand wrapped around my wrist pulling it forth. “Wait” Sam said sternly, dropping my wrist. I turn my head to look at Dean with questioning eyes as if he would have a reason why his brother stopped me. But when I look at him he’s looking between my wrist and his brother, his eyes scrunched in offense and what may look like anger, upset he stopped me, because doing so might be risking an innocent girl's life.

“Kat, it's not going to hurt you. Listen to me. You've got to face it. You've got to calm down.” Sam commands, talking to Kat through the door. He must be thinking back to what we said before. “She's gotta what?!” Dean yells, astonished.

“I have to what?!” Kat shouts back.

“These spirits, they're not trying to hurt us, they're trying to communicate.” Sam explains, indeed referencing what we were discussing before I just hope he’s right, “You gotta face it. You gotta listen to it.”

“You face it!” Kat snaps back. A smile threatening to show on my lips. “No! It's the only way to get out of there” Sam insists.

“No!” Kat screams.

“Sam, come on let me get her out” I say quietly hoping only those who know about my abilities can hear me. “No” He says towards me before directing his voice towards the door, “Look at it, come on. You can do it.”

She seems to listen to him, no more screams against his plan. We all wait impatiently, the air thick with anxiety, if this doesn’t work then we caused a very avoidable death. “Kat?” Gavin calls out.

“Man, I hope you're right about this.” Dean grumbles.

“Yeah, me too” Sam nods.

“No offense Sammy, but you should have voiced your concern before” I bite, crossing my arms across my chest.

Suddenly the door creaks open slowly, Kat peeking out. Her eyes are wide and blank, clearly startled and traumatized. “Oh, Kat” Gavin murmurs, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend.

Sam maneuvers himself around them, opening the large door further to get past them into the room. He comes back out not even a minute later shaking his head, whatever spirit was in there isn’t anymore.

“One thirty-seven.” Kay says suddenly, wiping away her teary eyes.

“Sorry?” Dean looks at her, puzzled.

“It whispered in my ear. 137.” She clarified.

“Room number.” The boys and I said in sync, our eyes wide in clarity.

“Jinx” I say quickly pointing towards the boys. Dean groans, “You always win.”

I beam, looking up at him, “You just always forget.”

“Yeah cause he’s actually focused on the hunt” Sam quipped, annoyed. “Hey I am foc-“ I try to defend only getting cut off by Sam nudging Dean and I down the hall out of hearing reach throwing a “Excuse us” to the two teens.

“Alright. So if these spirits aren't trying to hurt anyone…” Sam starts getting his sentence finished by his brother, “Then what are they trying to do?”

“Maybe they're helping us out” I shrug, “Giving us hints?”

“I guess we'll find out.” Dean huffs.

“Alright.” Sam confirms, nothing more to be said.

Dean separates from our little huddle calling out to the kids waiting on us, “So, now, are you guys ready to leave this place?”

“That's an understatement.” Kat remarks.

“Okay.” He turns back to us, “Sam you get them outta here. Y/N were going to go find room 137.”

“Isn’t it best that I go with Sam?, make sure they can get out” I ask, not to say that I don’t want to go with Dean but still trying to be reasonable.

“If the spirits suddenly decide to get rowdy and gang up on me like they did Doc, I’d want you on my side” Dean answers, making a motion with his hands weirdly that I suppose is meant to represent my abilities. “Ok fair enough” I shrug, not needing any more convincing. Sam moves away towards Kat and Gavin. Dean and I waited until they were out of sight, getting led by Sam, before moving to find room 137.

We only move a few feet when I notice the lack of something in Dean's hand, “What happened to your flashlight?” I ask. He pulls back the side of his grayish-blue button down jacket exposing the thick flashlight tucked into his jeans, “Died jus’ before Kat got dragged into that room” he explains. I reluctantly drag my eyes back up to his face, a flashlight held in his jeans shouldn't have been hot, I give him a single awkward nod before forcing my eyes back in front of me.

“I think it’s down this way” He nudges my arm just as we get to the end of the long hallway, pointing left. I point my flashlight in that direction, the light illuminating the continuous mess of the asylum, “How do you know?” I ask. He shrugs, “Intuition.” I followed him down the hall even under the weak assumption, there were hardly any sign indicators and if there were they were unreadable due to destruction or graffiti.

I give him a look as we walk the hall, not finding the room. “I meant the next one over” he says with a stupid smile on his face. “Oh yeah of course” I nod, playing into whatever you want to call this.

He mumbles the room number underneath his breath, an excited-nervous energy surrounding him as we approach the supposed right hallway. It was adorable.

“Look who was right.” He says, his voice coming from behind me. I turn towards him an even bigger smile on his face, I lift my flashlight to shine where the number would be. “Let’s just hope the ghost wasn’t tricking us” I huff.

He goes to push the door open only to find it stuck on something, he grunts putting more of his body weight on the door until it’s open enough to let us through. The room is a mess (but what else is new for this place), filing cabinets pushed over, papers everywhere, the walls stained with something that I think I’d rather not know. I shine the flashlight around going over to one of the filing cabinets opening it to find manila folders, I flick through them. More patient files but nothing of use as of now.

I whirl around to find Dean crouched down in the back of the room, prying off a wooden panel. He finally gets it off with a loud cracking noise, “This is why I get paid the big bucks.” he murmurs, the only indication that he found something. “You don’t get paid any bucks” I responded.

He turns his head slowly to me in offense holding up a deteriorating satchel in one hand and a mess of papers in the other. He gets up handing me the stack of papers and with his foot drags up a nearby chair scooting it close for me before dragging up one for himself. I go through my stack, a bunch of drawn images of medical instruments like lobotomy pick, straight jackets and cuffs, and other drawings with no labels but incredibly detailed writing and drawings that were nothing more than torture. “This feels like a messed up book club” I comment.

“Yeah check this out. Dr. here believed that provoking extreme anger would be therapeutic.” He explains, “Seems like all he ever did was work on this theory.”

“I think I read a research paper from 2002 on a similar idea called catharsis” I explain, “It basically means venting out negative emotions, especially anger. However researchers found it did the opposite and more likely increased aggression. But I guess in this case he was forcing it rather than the patients venting out anger they had from past traumas or anything of the sort.”

I know he is listening to my rant, his eyes moving up from the book to look at me before going back to the journal, his eyes scrunched in concern at what he read, “All work and no play makes Dr. Ellicott a very dull boy.”

I nearly laugh when a sudden creak comes from the hall, I look to Dean to find him with just as a confused face as mine. He had heard it too. He makes a “give me” motion so I hand over the papers, he puts them and the journal he read from back in the satchel. Without saying anything I knew he was moving us to check up on Sammy.

We manage our way back to the room Kat got locked into, but from there it winds up being a maze as to where Sammy could be. Lefts and rights and accidentally going in large circles. “Alright one more hallway and then we’re calling him” I plead, getting frustrated at this stupid musty asylum. “Deal” Dean nods.

The floor was particularly bad in this hall, each step followed by a creak each one louder then the next. Just as we reach the end of the hallway and turn right, for a split second, Kat stands there shotgun raised at us, her finger on the trigger. She shoots. Dean throws himself backwards, his arm going out right in front of me pushing me back against the corner wall out of the way from danger. Both of us were up against the wall next to each other, his arm just beneath my breasts holding me in place. A large puff of white smoke looking substance flies out from the wall, bits of the wall crumbling to the floor just by Dean's shoulder opposite to the one near me. Acting as the only signs of where the bullet had gone.

Our labored breaths nearly matched each other's, chests heaving. His arm remains where it is even when no more shots ring out, he yells, “Damn it, damn it, don’t shoot! It's us!!”

“Sorry! Sorry.” Kat meekly cries out.

“Jesus Chri-“ I peered around Dean's body at the shot, she would have killed us. Impressive. I bring a shaky hand up to the arm that still held me, he drops his arm allowing me to move past him and round the corner to the people who nearly ended us.

“What are you still doing here?! You're supposed to be gone! Also, why are you good with a gun?!” I exclaim. Dean immediately adding, “Where’s Sam?” Our rushed voices combining for a melody of pressured questions.

“He went to the basement. You called him.” Gavin answers, pointing to Dean. “I didn't call anybody.” Dean replies, looking at me confused I shrug not having any idea myself.

“His cell phone rang. He said it was you.” Kat elaborates.

“Basement, huh?” Dean hums before turning to me, “I’m gonna go to Sam, get them out of here.”

“Wait no I should come with you” I say.

“I’ll be fine, sweetheart, just get them out of here” He orders, but his voice is soft where it should be commanding. He takes the gun from Kat and before I can say anything more he’s running off.

I turn towards the door, trying to think of the least suspicious way possible to open the door. A chain with a lock lies on the floor just in front of my feet. It must not just be a locked door, perhaps it is the spirits here keeping it closed. I pull on the door handle letting my powers seep into the large door willing it open. It opens with another pull, having to use a lot of strength to open the old door. “Alright let’s go” I say, turning to the two behind me. They look at me with a mix of shock and confusion, “How di-“ Gavin asks before I cut him off, “It was just jammed” I lie.

I follow them down the steps and watch them climb over the fence. I wait until I see them physically get into the car, both kids looking back almost hesitant to leave us behind. But I have no time to help with their guilty conscience, I turn back toward the building immediately running up the steps and back into the asylum. I curse not knowing which way Dean exactly went or where the hell the basement was let alone where a staircase was.

In the dim, haunting corridors of the abandoned asylum, panic pulses through me like a heartbeat. The suffocating air clings to my skin as I navigate the labyrinth that is this building. Every step feels like a hesitant dance with the unknown. I try to suppress the fear clawing at my throat, envisioning worst-case scenarios involving Sam and Dean. Could they be hurt, trapped, dead? My thoughts are a chaotic whirlwind, one that feels too overwhelming to control as pathetic as it sounds and feels.

Desperation fuels my movements as I sprint down seemingly endless hallways, each one a haunting replica of the last. It's a macabre maze, and my heart races with the urgency of finding the elusive staircase leading to the basement.

As I turn another corner, the harsh silence amplifies the echoes of my footsteps. "Sam! Dean!" I call out, my voice swallowed by the oppressive stillness. The only response is the distant moan of the decaying building. With determination fueling my every step, I press forward, driven by the desperate need to uncover the secrets hidden below. The dim light casts distorted shadows on peeling wallpaper, playing tricks on my eyes. Yet, I press on, the image of the elusive staircase driving me forward, my breath a rhythm of fear and determination.

As if the old building heard my pleas I spot a door just at the end of the hall, a medal bar for the handle and if it isn’t my eyes playing tricks on me then a small sign signifying a person walking up stairs lies on the small window on the door. I all but ran over, the thing I needed most lying right there. As I push open the door, anticipation and anxiety rests behind my rib cage, a reminder that finding the door wasn’t enough. I still needed to find them.

However, as the door creaks open, my heart sinks. Before me lies a staircase, but it ascends rather than descending. Everything that I do not need. I was being mocked. The staircase leading upward into the unknown when my every instinct demands a descent into the depths below.

I stand at the threshold, contemplating my next move. Panic threatens to resurface, but I force a deep breath, I know what I must do even when it is foreign to me. I had not trained in it, hadn’t studied it enough, so much of me was like that. So many abilities I could have and use but always dared to leave untouched, this being one of them. I knew only how to use it in such short distances, and only in spaces that I could see. Not like this.

But I’m afraid and desperate enough. I know the boys are very capable of taking care of themselves, yet an unmistakable fear lives behind my rib cage for those I love, a fear of losing them. I close my eyes. This staircase had to be close enough. My fear had to be enough. I force another deep breath, bracing my feet beneath me. I could picture the room around me even with my eyes sealed, focusing on how the walls stretched above me in my mind's eye.

I had not seen the basement, hadn’t a single idea what it even began to look like. Yet still I force my perception down, below the concrete laying underneath my shoes. But more than that I needed to find them, I try my best to picture them specifically even in an unknown location. The air seems to ripple around me, reality folding over itself.

I open my eyes, no longer in the stairwell but presumably in the basement. The only indication I’ve gone to the right place is the boy's only feet in front of me. What should be a triumphant moment is crushed under the scene in front of me.

Dean is on his back splayed across the floor, broken wall beneath him the concrete powder sticking to his clothes. Sam is standing over him, shotgun pointed down at his brother, I can not see his full face from here but I can see it is etched in anger. “Sam!” I yell, catching his attention. He turns to me, his face scrunched in disgust, he does not lower the gun.

“What the hell is hap-“ I try to ask but the gun goes off with a loud bang. Suddenly I’m in front of him, the bullets hitting the hall that laid behind me when I stood in the doorway. I teleported out of danger without a second's thought, I make a mental note for later as I punch Sammy square in the face, my knuckles hitting against his sharp jaw.

He stumbles back a few feet, my knuckles burn, he will have to forgive me later. I do not want to hurt him but I do need to stop him. I mumble a sorry, hooking my leg behind his, hitting into the back of his knee with my foot forcing his legs to collapse beneath him knocking him to his knees. I use his shock as leverage, easily pulling the gun from his hands, I point the gun at him even though I do not want to.

Dean groans still on the ground, only having leaned up from his position. Sam holds his hands up, “Shoot me” he spits. He was taunting me, testing me. “I have no need to” I answer calmly. He was possessed or influenced by the doctor here, this wasn’t really him, I knew that.

I hear Dean get up, panting and making small noises of pain. I look over at him from the corner of my eye, watching him hold just below his chest in pain, “You okay there?” I ask, earning a grumbled “yeah”. Dean drags himself to the front of the room where he must have dropped the duffle bag he was carrying.

In the corner of my eye I see Sam try to lunge towards me, I snap my attention back to him “Hey”,I warn, “Stop.” He looked even more pissed, his mouth twitching with words he wanted to say, “You think protecting him is gonna make him fall in love with you?” He says quietly. I check behind me but Dean makes no indication that he heard, I know it’s not really him speaking but the words still sting. “I’m not that diluted” I answered, turning back to him.

“You follow him around like a lost puppy, it’s pathetic” He laughs, “Really, you follow us around. But we don’t need you, we’d be better off without you. All you do is take up space.” The words bite into my skin, my heart suddenly feeling heavy. Losing my firm stance he grasps onto my ankle pulling it towards him sharply, knocking me on my ass hard. He punches me, his fist connecting with my nose, my eyes tearing up on its own accord with a harsh throbbing. He snatches the gun back when I hear movement towards us, without looking I shout back “I can take him, just find the body!”

Sam straddles my lap, his knees pinning my hands to the floor with an incredible amount of pain, and I can not pull my hands free. He grabs my chin roughly forcing my gaze on him, my neck leaning up at a weird angle, “You feel the need to be with us, it’s the only thing that fills the gap of being left behind your whole life.”

Hurt and anger burn my eyes. I move my face out of his hold and he lets me, I lean my head back before slamming it into his. The resounding clash of our heads echoed through the air, an abrupt collision that sent shockwaves of discomfort rippling through my skull. He loses slight balance, his knees leave my hands the feeling rushing back into them but I do not leave time for feelings of victory. I shove him back, using more force than I probably should have.

I stand up swiftly, stumbling over myself slightly, my head throbbing severely. “You” I point, breathing heavily, “Have a hard head.” He tries to reach for the gun but I kick it out of reach before he’s able to.

I knew Dean was close by even with the room being so large and divided, but I didn’t know how close he was to finishing up. There was a strong sense of dread in my stomach, I don’t want to fight anymore, maybe curl up into a ball and contemplate life but not fight. “Please, stay down” I beg, my eyes still teary from a mix of a reaction to the pain and just being upset.

He leans up, that horrible anger still etched on his face. I hold my hand up at him, extending my force outwards pinning him down with an invisible force. He struggles against it, his arms shaking. I grit my teeth, disgust tangling itself in my gut. Yes this was out of self defense and necessity but this wasn’t me. He was my friend, to restrain him in such a way…with my abilities…when I’m meant to help people.

I force my face away, a lump tight in my throat when I catch my reflection on a piece of broken glass in the far edge of the room. It was if I was being teased by the devil himself, staring at a reflection I wasn’t sure I even recognized. My eyes were fierce yet brimmed with tears, my pupils glowing purple. Where did this lie in morality? It felt wrong. So disgustingly wrong even if it was meant to be helpful.

Only a little longer, only until the remains were burnt and Sam was fine. “Y/N”

“Y/N!” He begs.

I turned my head back to him, the anger previously on his face melted away. I immediately release my hold on him, dropping my hand down swiftly. For a moment there it seemed fear had crossed his eyes, I took a step back lifting my hand to my forehead, a thin line of sweat wetting my face. My chest heaves, complete overwhelm filling my senses. I feel it in my bones this need to move, to get out. It had not taken anything out of me to hold him down, and that is what scared me the most.

Dean shuffles back into view, coming over and helping this brother up. When had he walked over here? I take another step back, their voices meshing together in a blob of incoherent sounds. A strong familiar hand grasps my upper arm, I look up at Dean, his eyes scrunched together in concern. “You okay, sweetheart?” He asks, but his voice seems so far away. I look over at Sam, a bruise already forming on his jaw a reminder of what I had done. I find no fear in his eyes any longer, not even as he rubs at the forming mark. I nod absent-mindedly at Dean's question, though it wasn’t true and he had known that too.

He gives my arm a firm squeeze before sliding it down slowly to my hand, intertwining our fingers together. I look up at him again, but his face is turned away already walking towards the duffel bag bringing me along with him. He doesn't say anything about holding my hand, not even as he leans down to the bag swinging it over the shoulder that is opposite to where I stand.

He leads the way out of the basement, Sam following behind us silently. I let him lead me, just staring down at our intertwined hands. His sleeve was rolled up to his elbow, ‘must have done that when he left us before. Holding hands wasn’t totally uncommon for us and we both happened to be touchy people, even so butterflies danced in my stomach.

When we finally reached the exit, the early morning sun had begun to shine through the clouds. Every one of our movements was done in silence, he let go of my hand only until we climbed back over the fence. The second both our feet had hit the ground he claimed it once more.

Just a short distance away Kat and Gavin lean against their car, my eyes scrunch in confusion. I thought they left. “What are you guys still doing here?” I call out from a few feet away. They analyze us, probably noticing the clear sign of a fight and who I’m holding hands with but I do not let go of his hand, and he makes no move to do so either. “We wanted to make sure you got out” Kat answers, crossing her arms across her chest, “And to say thank you.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Gavin adds in.

“No more haunted asylums, okay?” Dean replies. They nod and get in the car, this time starting it up.

“Hey, guys?” Sam says quietly as we begin to walk towards the Impala. He gets in front of us, walking backwards so we couldn’t ignore him, “I'm sorry. I said some awful things back there.”

I frown, not wanting to be reminded of something that happened only minutes ago. “You remember all that?” Dean scuffs.

“Yeah. It's like I couldn't control it. But I didn't mean it, any of it.” He says making sure he directs it at both of us.

“You must believe it on some subconscious level…right?” I say. I do not mean to come off harsh or make him feel worse about himself, but he had to feel that way on some level. He doesn't say anything for a minute, and I suddenly feel bad for what I said, “No, of course not! Do we need to talk about this?” He insists.

Reaching the Impala Dean unlocks the car, opening my door with his free hand but I make no moves of getting in just yet. He lets go of my hand, moving to the back of the car to throw in the duffel before rounding the rest of the car to the driver seat. Just before he gets in he answers his brother, venom clear on his tongue, “No. I'm not really in the sharing and caring kinda mood. I just wanna get some sleep.” He slams the car door behind him.

I look over at Sam, total defeat written all over his face. I move past the car door moving right in front of Sam, he looked down at me expectantly. I wrap my arms around his middle and hug him. We will go to a motel and sleep the night off, and I don’t want to go to bed upset. His initial surprise wears off and he hugs me back, I pull away slightly. “You said mean things and I know you're sorry, but they still hurt… I’m not mad at you for thinking like that, I know you wouldn’t intentionally hurt us.” I say softly, I don’t like being angry at someone or holding grudges.

His eyes are filled with desperate sorrow as he says, “I’m sorry.” He hugs me tightly adding a quiet, “thank you.” And I knew he had meant for just talking to him about it even if it was only a little and for not hating him. We pull away from each other, and he ruffles my hair like an annoying brother before getting in the Impala. I move past the open door again, this time getting in.

Even after a nice hot shower and being all cozied up in the motel bed, sleep still could not find me. I groan frustrated, switching positions for the upteenth time, glad that I had my own room so as to not wake anyone.

I shift again, moving onto my back, the memories of what happened earlier playing through my head on repeat. Whether Sam meant it or not he was right. They didn’t need me, they were more than capable by themselves. Maybe I should go back home.

I could call Adeline, ask her if she could pick me up from the airport and take me home. The plane ride wouldn’t be so bad, I just have to figure out how to get to the airport with no car of my own. But that thought upset me more. I’d go home and worry over the boys excessively, where they were, how they were doing, if they were safe or even alive, if they found their dad. Maybe I was a burden to them.

God. And what I did to Sam? To use my powers like that?! Though I guess before the whole fight the teleporting was quite impressive especially because I am not skilled in that.

I want to be the best, but I'm afraid of what that would mean. What I would become.

I shift again, my feet tangling under the heavy covers. I sit up letting the blankets fall to my waist, and without thinking I pick up my phone dialing in her number. I had no idea what time it was in New York City but I knew she didn’t care about that sort of thing, she would pick up regardless of time or what she was doing. The phone barely gets to ring for a third time when she answers, “Hey Addie…”

#supernatural #fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #john winchester #slow burn #witch reader #witchcraft #dean winchester x witch reader #the hunter and the witch update #the hunter and the witch #dean winchester x f!reader #dean winchester being a cutie #dean winchester x you

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mylostloversbookmarks · 1 year

Note

thank you!! My request is: Joel x female reader. Age gap. They met after Joel and Ellie arrived in Jackson, they started to know each other, at first they kept it a bit like a secret but then, when things started to get more serious, they didn’t hide anymore. Things got so serious that after a while (not immediately, like a year or two) Joel asked reader to move in with him and Ellie.

Ellie loves reader and she’s more than happy that Joel found his special someone. Could you add a scene where reader is with Ellie one afternoon and they see Joel with a woman, acting really intimate, which connects to reader’s thoughts about Joel being a bit weird the previous days. She thinks he’s cheating on her, also because the woman is really close and intimate to Joel in that situation.

She wants to leave before he sees her but Joel notices her presence, tries to talk to her but doesn’t deny the accusations at first, (so a lot of angst!!!) which makes reader think she lost the love of her life.

They don’t talk for a few days and try to ignore each other when possible, despite living together. Ellie is sad and suffers from this situation. Joel loves reader too much to ruin things so he puts his pride aside and tries talking to her. They eventually talk it through, he was not cheating (choose whatever the alternative to that is!!) maybe a little fluff at the end or also something else? You choose!

also, if you have any rules or have triggers about something that I requested please let me know and change the story how you need to.

And I’m extremely sorry if this request is too long and detailed.

thank you!!!

Guiding Lights - a Joel Miller one shot.

Characters - Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count - 8.7K

Warnings/Tags - 18+ only Minors dni. Typical canon language, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, Alcohol consumption, , Sus!Joel, Soft!Joel, insecurities, suspected cheating, no actual cheating, I think thats all?

A/N - @addictedtotlou This is my first ever fic request and I cannot thank you enough for sending it through, and also for dropping into my inbox to let me know it was you that requested it! I'm sorry it took so long but I hope you enjoy <3

Feedback, Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

You often find yourself reminiscing on the day you met Joel and Ellie, it feels like forever ago now, though it has only really been a few years.

The winters in Wyoming were never kind, but that year, Mother Nature had been particularly cruel. Strong winds and vicious snow blizzards reduced visibility to almost nothing. You had heard those posted to the lookout stations talking over lunches and complaining about how bad the conditions were getting.

So in a bid to keep the good folks of Jackson safe, Tommy and Maria decided to double the number of patrols around the commune in an attempt to keep an eye on the horizon for any potential threats who could be hiding just beyond their sights.

Needless to say, it had been a rather slow work day in the Tipsy Bison, with the usual counting and re-counting of stock, checking on the latest brew of beers and whisky, ensuring everything was going as planned, and cleaning of the already immaculate bar, all finished in record time.

Expecting the usual after-work rush that never came, you sent the other two bar staff over to the mess hall to see if the kitchen needed any help with preparations for tomorrow's meals.

As the two said their goodbyes over their shoulders, you heard one of them mumble a shocked "What the hell?"

With your interest piqued, you stepped out from behind the old wooden bar and crossed the floor to the large square windows at the front of the building. Your eyes followed their gaze and watched as the afternoon patrol crew filed through the large wooden and steel-clad gates of the commune.

You waved as a few of your regulars passed you, a few tipping the brims of their ten-gallon hats. You quickly realised what had drawn your colleagues' attention when your eyes landed on two new faces in the middle of the crew.

The first newcomer was a man; he wore a thick brown winter coat and jeans that looked like they could stand up on their own, and you could see the toe of his work boot was mended with what looked to be duck tape. His eyes were sharp and focused, darting around him as if in search of someone or something.

Instantly, he gave you the impression of someone who had been on the road for quite some time. Having been there yourself, you felt a surge of sympathy for him, but you were still wary of him, not knowing why he had been brought inside the walls.

The second was a girl, whom you assumed to be the man's daughter; she was small and looked to be in her early teens. Strands of her tawny brown hair peek out from under her winter hat. big, bright eyes, taking in her surroundings in wonder, while the man stared straight ahead. The girl seemed to be unaware that all eyes were on her, from those who stood on the street to others standing in shop windows, just as you were.

You followed the other barstaff out to the porch and offered the girl a small smile as your eyes met, she quickly looked away without returning it. It wasn't often that Jackson took in new people, opting to keep off the radar to try and protect what you had here. Maria was on this afternoon's patrol and had no doubt made the call to bring the two into the commune.

As the crew passed, heading further into the small town, you saw the man's head snap to the left, and he opened his mouth.

"Tommy!" he shouted, his deep, booming voice ringing in the silence. In an instant, he was off his horse and running in the direction of the scaffolding that had been put up to repair some of the damage to a neighbouring building.

You watched on in stunned silence as the two men ran towards each other, unsure of what the newcomers intentions were, but before you had made it down the two steps of the porch, the man wrapped his arms around Tommy and began laughing, disbelief colouring the sound.

The two men stood embracing each other, both breathless from laughter, and you knew immediately who the newcomer was. This was Joel, Tommy's brother.

Tommy had spoken of him before; usually after one too many whiskies at the bar, he would open up to you about how guilty he felt about staying off the radio. He would say things like, "It's only a matter of time before he comes looking for me, Y/N; what am I supposed to do? Turn him away?" and "One thing about my big bother is that he's persistent."

You had always offered words of understanding and comfort and almost always cut him off and sent him home after those conversations, knowing that no good could come from him drinking any more alcohol.

Part of being the town's main bar tender was also being a listening ear whenever someone needed it, but with Tommy, it was different. He and Maria had become your closest friends, and you would always be there when either of them needed you, working or not.

You always got the sense that something had happened between the two men that couldn't be fixed. As you watched the brothers reunite, you realised that the thought couldn't be further from the truth.

Maria caught your eye as she dismounted from her horse and jerked her head to the side, beseeching you to join her. You nodded at her and crossed the road to where she was standing, hitching her horse to one of the many posts dotted around town.

"Maria, is that who I think it is?" You asked her quietly, not wanting to draw attention to the conversation.

"Yeah, it is," she spat. "I don't know how the hell he found us out here." She continued, venom dripping from each word.

You knew that Maria had never actually met Joel, but from the stories Tommy had told you both in the early years, she knew what he was capable of and decided then and there that she did not like him. You, on the other hand, had a more objective outlook on things.

You were not involved in the same way Maria was, of course; she and Tommy were married after all, so you could understand her reservations when he opened up about his past with his brother and the things they had done and what they thought they needed to do to survive.

The problem was, Maria had been in Jackson longer than you and Tommy and therefore had less of an idea what a brutal hellscape it was outside the walls. Maria wasn't stupid; she knew that it was dangerous, but it had been so long since she had to live like that, to really be surviving, not trusting anyone you met along the way, not knowing where your next meal was coming from, or if you were going to make it to worry about the next meal.

You, on the other hand, had lived that life for longer than you would like to remember, and though you didn't have innocent blood on your hands, they were far from clean. So you could sympathise with Tommy and the demons that clearly kept him up at night. So you felt the hatred that Maria has for Joel was a little unfounded.

"I'm happy he found him again," you admitted, unable to help the undercurrent meant by your works. What you really wanted to say was "This should have happened a long time ago if you had let him respond to Joel's calls on the radio" Meeting her narrowed eyes, you saw a flash of anger in them. No doubt you will get an earful for that comment later.

You knew what she was going to say: that Joel wasn't going to fit in here in Jackson, that Tommy was better off without him, and that you should keep a safe distance from him. But she didn't have the opportunity, as Tommy was already walking towards the two of you.

Joel had walked back to where the girl waited on her horse; a worried, almost disappointed expression crossed her face as he gestured towards Tommy. You watched as he gently helped her down from the animal, making sure she was steady on her feet before the pair followed behind Tommy.

"Y/N, Maria, ah… this is my big brother, Joel," Tommy announced, his tone a mixture of pride and nervousness.

"Hey, it's good to finally meet you; I've heard a lot about you." You smiled kindly at him; he nodded once in response, his expression guarded.

"I'm Ellie! It's nice to meet you," the girl chirps cheerily before shoving her elbow into Joel's ribs. "Joel, say hello," she all but hissed at him, which makes you chuckle.

"It's lovely to meet you, Ellie." You beam.

"It's, uh, good to meet you," he managed quietly.

Two years later...

A loud knock at your front door startles you. Your hand flies to your heart as you curse under your breath. Who the hell would be calling on you at this hour of the morning?

You pad down the hallway and open the door to find Joel standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He seemed keyed up, and your heart drops to your stomach; something must have happened.

"Hey, is everything okay? Did something happen? Is Ellie alright?" You squeaked at him, the panic rising in your chest causing your voice to go up an octave.

"Yes, darlin, everything's fine, Ellie's good; don't worry; I just need to talk to you about something, that's all," he assured you in his thick Texas drawl.

"Everything's good… but you need to talk to me about something at 6 a.m." You questioned him dubiously, arching an eyebrow at him.

"I promise everything is fine; I have morning patrol and was hoping I could catch you before I head out," Joel explains, the ghost of a smile playing on his plump lips.

"Ah, okay, that makes sense, sorry; c'mon, handsome." You laugh as you open the door for him to enter and close it after him.

He follows you down the hall into the small kitchen, lingering in the doorway and studying you. You can feel his eyes roaming your figure as you pour him a cup of coffee. Strong, black, no sugar—just the way he likes it.

Turning with the mug in your hand, you let out a breathy laugh at the sight of him. He looked wired, far too awake for this hour of the morning. Was he sweating?

"Joel, baby, are you alright?" You ask curiously as you hand him his coffee and take your usual seat at the end of the dining table.

"Yeah, I just…I wanna ask you something but I don't know how" he confessed sheepishly, his large hand coming to scratch nervously at the back of his neck.

"I'd like to think you know me well enough by now to know you can ask me anything." You said it with a smile, hoping to calm whatever was causing his nerves.

"Yeah, no, I know, I just don't want to freak you out; there's no pressure, and I understa-"

"Just spit it out, Joel." You interrupt him. In the two years you had been with Joel, you had never seen him struggle for words with you, and it was making you anxious.

"Okay," he huffs out, pulling the dining room chair out so he could sit facing you. He takes a long drink of coffee before continuing, and the suspense is killing you.

"So I was speaking to Ellie, and you know we both love you; hell, sometimes I think she likes you more than she likes me!" He chuckles fondly: "Look, we've been seeing each other for a while, and now that everyone knows, I think it would be good, you know, f-for Ellie if she had a…I dunno, like a mother figure on a more permanent basis." The words were falling out of his mouth like an avalanche. He desperately hoped he was making sense, but you still weren't understanding.

"Permenant basis? What do you mean?" You ask, confusion clear on your face, making him laugh again.

"Yeah, like on an everyday basis," he enphasises. Urging you to grasp the meaning of his words.

"Okay, um, I mean, yeah, I think that's a great idea. I love that kid. I will tell her about making an effort to hang out every day." You promise him sincerely and are touched that he thinks of you as a mother figure to his daughter.

"That's not really what I was thinking, baby; I mean, on a permanent basis, like you would live in the same house." He husks softly, his eyes searching your face for your reaction, and his heart sinks to his boots as he watches your brows knit together.

"Did you have another fight?" You ask him, reaching your hand up to stroke the side of his face, your thumb lingering on the heart-shaped patch of his beard where the hair refused to grow. "Ellie's always more than welcome to stay here when she likes, but Joel, I don't think her moving in here is the answer."

He takes your hand from his face and holds it between both of his; he huffs all the air from his lungs and slowly takes another deep breath. Straightening in his chair, he locks eyes with you.

"I knew this would be an easy ask, but I didn't imagine you making it this hard on me," he says exasperatedly, huffing out another loud laugh.

"I don't understand." Confusion layers your tone, and you are sure your face is doing the same.

"I'm not asking if Ellie can move in with you; I'm asking if… if you would like to move in with us Y/N" He admits. His brown eyes are soft and lingering on your face, and his thumb is tracing small circles on your wrist.

This was not the conversation you were expecting to have over your morning coffee; your brain was barely functioning, and your mind started to race. The last two years of your life, with Joel and Ellie passing by before you in a blur of colours and memories.

You had sympathised with Joel's struggles to adjust to life in Jackson, and given that you worked in the only bar in town, he quickly became a familiar face. You ignored Maria's warnings to stay away from him; after all, she didn't know him from Adam, and you felt it was unfair to judge someone on the things they had done as the world fell apart overnight.

So, slowly but surely, you found yourself at work, hoping each night that he would stop in so you could get to know him better, and he always did. Always opting to sit at the bar, despite there being plenty of more comfortable booths to sit at.

At first, it was always you who initiated the conversation, asking him how his day was, how the patrol had gone, and how Ellie was fitting in, and you listened tentatively to what little information he would give you. Until eventually, after a couple of months of the same routine, he started to open up to you.

He would ask you how you were, how your shift had been, if you had a good day off, and on occasion he would let slip that he "missed you yesterday" when he called in for a drink on his way home from patrol, only to be disappointed that you were nowhere to be found.

It made you giddy; he was on your mind constantly; it made you feel like there was a swarm of butterflies in your belly, but you thought it was only harmless flirting as there was a considerable age gap between you both, with Joel being in his fifties and you in your early thirties, you didn't think Joel would be interested in a relationship with you.

But how wrong you were! After a couple of weeks of late-night drinks after the bar had officially closed, Joel had bitten the bullet and asked you out, though he asked if you wouldn't mind keeping it between the two of you as he didn't know how Ellie would react to him seeing someone and you gladly accepted.

You understood that Ellie was and always would be his first priority, and you admired his unwavering dedication to her, especially after finding out that Ellie wasn't his blood relative; he had taken her on as "cargo," as he affectionately put it. As a way to get one step closer to finding his brother, but she had worked her way under his skin, much like she did with everyone she met. It was so difficult not to like her. With her quick wit and foul mouth, she never failed to make you laugh. She was definitely his daughter, blood or no blood.

The thought of Ellie brings your mind back to the question at hand: should you move in with them? Was now the right time? Was Ellie even okay about this? Did she even know Joel had asked you? Each question raced through your mind until your mouth found one it could form words around.

"What does Ellie think of this?" You asked Joel intently, reading his face for any signs of worry or panic at your question, but there were none to be found.

"I mentioned to Ellie a few months ago that I thought it would be nice if you were around all the time, and she agreed, and then I sat her down yesterday and told her that I was thinking of asking you today, and she was all for it. I don't want you to feel pressured in any way, though; it's okay if it's too soon; you can say no, and we won't be offended in the slightest!" Joel assures you, his voice is low and genuine.

He lifts his right hand to the side of your face and gently brushes the hair out of your eyes, his calloused thumb stroking back and forth as you lean into his touch, allowing your eyes to fall closed. Taking a deep breath, you throw caution to the wind.

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, your voice drops to a whisper. "Yes, I'll move in."

Suddenly your body was moving, and not by its own volition; your eyes were still closed, so your brain was having trouble registering what was happening. When your eyes flashed open in surprise, you were caught up in Joel's arms, spinning around your small kitchen with your feet no longer planted on the floor.

"Joel!" You squeal through breathy laughter, placing your hands on his broad shoulders to steady yourself.

"Are you sure, baby?" He asks, his eyes sparkling with delight.

"Yes, I'm sure handsome, but I have one condition!" You warn him, arching a fluffy brow.

"Name your price, sweetheart," he smirks at you through the whiskers of his full moustache.

"I get to tell Ellie," You beam back at him, your hand rests on the back of his neck, fingers scractching lightly at the curls that have formed there.

"I think she'd like that," he ghosts against your lips, lightly brushing his nose against your own until you lean up and crush your mouth to his.

Three years later...

It has been a hectic few weeks for the community in Jackson, working through yet another savage winter. You were just through the middle of it, and the end was in sight. The snow storms were not as frequent and the winds were not as wild.

Work has been keeping you busy. You are still the main bartender at the Tipsy Bison, but much to Joel's dismay, you have also picked up a few patrol shifts to lend a hand to Tommy as a few of the older patrol crew stepped back into other work duties due to ill health.

It has felt like months since you and Joel have spent any quality time together, despite living in the same house and working in the same community. Whenever you were both home, he seemed distant and preoccupied, as if there was somewhere else he wanted to be. You tried to engage him in conversation, but he would only give you short answers before retreating into his own thoughts.

At first, you thought that he might just be stressed out from work duty or the weather, as bad as it has been, but as the days turned into weeks, you started to feel a growing sense of unease. You have never seen Joel act this way before, not with you at least, and you don't know what to do.

You miss his closeness; the late-night conversations at the bar while you finished up your shift—all of that has stopped, and no matter how many hours you spent trying to figure out why, you always came up blank.

So needless to say, you were looking forward to spending some quality time with Ellie this evening to help take your mind off your worries. You had stood under the shower for longer than you intended, just enjoying how the steaming water rolled down your tense frame.

With a sigh, you shut off the water and wrapped yourself in your towel, headed into your bedroom to get dressed, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude that the house had heating, an especially rare commodity with the world's current condition. Jackson really was a paradise of sorts.

"Ellie! C'mon kiddo, we're going to be late for the movie!," You shout from the bottom of the stairs, shrugging into your winter jacket.

Movie night Fridays have quickly become a tradition for you and Ellie, especially now that the winter has rolled back around and it's too cold to spend much time outdoors.

"Alright, I'm coming; Jesus, keep your hair on!" Ellie mutters as she makes her way down the stairs, where you wait for her.

"We only have 20 minutes before the film starts, and I know you're going to want to get snacks, so we've got to make tracks." You laugh as she rolls her eyes at you.

"Alright Mom," she mocks, sarcasm dripping from each word.

"You're such a little shit, you know that, right?" You tell her fondly with a warm smile.

"I know, it's all part of my charm," she grins.

"Ah, I see, and does Dina know all about your charm?" You playfully jab her ribs with your elbow, wagging your brows up and down.

"Ugh, you're so annoying; you know that, right?" Ellie counters, always so quick-witted.

"I know, it's all part of my charm," You repeat her words back to her, earning another eye roll.

The two of you leave the house and trudge out into the snow; thankfully, the blizzard has calmed, and now fat, fluffy flakes of snow flurry around you like something from a movie scene.

As brutal as they can be, you have never seen anything more beautiful than Jackson in the winter. It was like something you would see on a postcard of a ski village in the French Alps, all timber buildings and string lights illuminating the small town.

On Friday nights, the mess hall was turned into a makeshift movie theatre for the youth that lived in the commune, offering them some respite from the grind of daily life. It was complete with candy, drinks, and, of course, pop corn.

At first, Ellie hadn't seemed all that interested in going, not knowing many kids her age, but after a lot of coaxing and the promise that if she didn't like it, she didn't have to go again or even stay for the full movie, Though she quickly found her feet with Dina, the rest was really history.

"Where's Joel tonight? I thought he was going to come with us." Ellie asked curiously.

"Oh shit, I meant to tell you earlier; he said Tommy asked him to cover the evening patrol tonight, so he can't make it." You explained, not really sure why Tommy needed him to cover after already doing the afternoon patrol, but it must have been important, so you didn't give it a second thought.

You and Ellie walk in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the peaceful walk through town. You were about to ask her how she was getting on with her work detail when she came to a standstill.

"I thought you said Joel was on patrol tonight?" she demanded, her face contorting in confusion.

"Uh yeah, Ellie, I just told you that." You confirm, your own confusion mirroring hers.

"Then what the fuck is he doing in the bar?" She fumes, gesturing behind you to the window of the Tipsy Bison.

Sure enough, there he sits at the bar with Jenna. Joel was nursing a whisky, and she was playfully peeling back the homemade label of her beer bottle. They are sitting in the corner booth by the window, leaning towards each other to the point where their heads are far too close to be appropriate.

In that moment, your breathing stopped. Your stomach sank to the floor, and an overwhelming sense of panic and dread began to claw viciously from your chest up your throat, resting heavy on your tongue.

"Are you okay?" Ellie asks nervously, not really sure what to do or say in this situation. It could be nothing, but even to her, it definitely looked like something.

"Y-yeah, I'm good. Ellie, why don't you go on down to the mess hall, and I'll meet you there in a few?" You tell her more than ask, your eyes never leaving the window.

"No way fuck that I'm staying with you!" she demands, her eyes growing wet around her long lashes.

"No, Ellie, I need to talk to Joel; I will catch up with you in a few, okay?" You meet her eyes and nod in the direction of the mess hall. She only nods in response; your tone is final as she turns on her heel and storms towards the makeshift movie theatre.

What the fuck is happening right now? You trusted Joel; it never bothered you when the ladies in Jackson would bat their eyes at him or when their glances lingered a little too long. You took it as a compliment; hell, if you were them, you would stare too.

Your relationship was built on a foundation of honesty and trust from the very beginning. You have told him things you have never shared with another living soul, and he has done the same with you. Never in your life did you think you would be lucky enough to share a connection with someone the way you have with Joel, let alone after the world had ended.

And now here you stand in the middle of town, watching the man you love cosy up with another woman in plain sight, not even having the decency to try and hide it from you.

You stand there for another few minutes, watching how he leans across the table to talk to her, laughing and caressing his arm in response. It sets fire to your blood, and you can feel it moving like molten lava in your veins.

You're moving before you realise you have made the decision to do so, your feet carrying you furiously forward, up to the short creaking steps and through the entrance to the bar, and then there you are, looming over their table. Your eyes bore holes into his skull. He jumps in his seat and scrambles frantically to hide the notebook that was sitting open on the table between them. You didn't pay it a second glance.

"I didn't realise the bar needed patrolling this evening," you state pointedly at him, ignoring Jenna, who is doing everything she can to avoid eye contact with you, fidgeting in her seat, and clambering to get her things together. Grabbing her coat and scarf from beside her.

"Hey darlin, I thought you and Ellie were heading to the movies." He asks, his voice rough with his attempts to hide his nerves.

"We were on our way there when she saw this cosy scene from the street." You gesture with your hand towards the table, your voice icy as you let your hand drop to your side with an audible slap, which made Jenna flinch.

"I think I'm going to head out…" Jenna murmurs in a small, quiet voice, still avoiding your gaze.

"That is a wise decision" You agreed without taking your eyes of Joel.

She throws Joel a cryptic glance before clambering out of her seat and quickly making her way to the door, shooting Joel an apologetic glance over her shoulder, which only fuels the rage bubbling up in your throat.

"What the fuck?" You growl at him, doing your best to keep your voice under control. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene. Especially not at your workplace, regardless of whether you were on shift or not.

"What's wrong with you?" he asks, genuinely confused by your anger.

"Please tell me you're joking," you seethe.

"What? I can't have a drink with a friend." He scoffs, incredulous.

"Seriously Joel? Since when have you had to lie about working to have a drink with a friend?"

"Don't you think you're overreacting just a bit?" he countered, avoiding the question.

"No, I really don't think I am. How could you do this? How could you do this in front of Ellie?!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Joel huffs back at you, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your eyes begin to prick with anger fuelled tears; the feeling of betrayal rips through you, leaving you exposed to his hard gaze. You can't take any more of this. It feels like the room is closing in around you. That you will suffocate if you don't leave right now. You look at him once more, and the fact that he hasn't denied it or assured you that this is anything other than what you fear it to be ,allows your world to crumble around you.

"Alright," you manage in a broken whisper that comes out as a choked sob.

With that, you turn and bolt for the door, desperately gasping for air but unable to get enough to fill your lungs. You have to brace yourself on the railing of the porch. You can feel his eyes on you as he watches you leave from where he sits frozen at the table, but he makes no move to follow after you.

Willing your legs to move, you push off the railing and slowly make your way to the mess hall, slipping in just as the movie is starting. You can see Ellie is sitting in the middle of the crowded room, and she has saved you a seat beside her.

You make your way to the restroom, taking in your reflection for the first time that evening. Your face is red and splotchy from crying, your eyes puffy, and your lips swollen from your teeth worrying at them. With shaking hands, you reach out to turn the tap on, splashing the icy cold water over your face as you try to make sense of what has just unfolded.

You knew Jenna; she is one of the few people trained in blacksmithing in Jackson, but you had never been especially close with her. She would frequent the bar and chat with you about her work day and vice versa, but that was the extent of your relationship with her, and you have never seen Joel interact with her. It just didn't make sense; why would he throw everything away for a fling with someone who lives in the same commune? Did he really think you wouldn't find out?

You do your best to shake the thoughts from your head, focused on spending the rest of the evening with Ellie, you will do everything in your power to shelter her from this. So with a deep breath, you put a smile on your face and left the restroom, smiling and waving politely at familiar faces as you made your way to your seat, stopping by the makeshift concession stand to grab Ellie some popcorn and a soda on your way.

"Hey, I've got you some snacks, kiddo." You whisper to her, not wanting to interrupt the film.

"Thanks, are you okay?" She murmered with a small smile. Taking the snacks from your outstretched hands.

"Yes, of course everything's fine; there was a mix-up with the patrols, so Joel didn't have to work tonight after all." You reassured her softly.

It cut you to the bone to have to lie to her to cover up his indiscretion because you didn't want her to think any less of him. He is her world, and she is his, and you wouldn't be the one to jeopardise that.

You weren't really sure what movie was even playing tonight, so lost in your thoughts that it was just a blurry hum in the background. Ellie had to nudge your shoulder several times to tell you that the movie had was over. Glancing around to find a steady stream of people filing out of the mess hall.

"Sorry, Ellie, I'm just a bit distracted tonight; work has been so hectic recently, and I have so much to do when I open tomorrow." You do your best to laugh it off. Hoping that she will let it go and that she wasn't being as observant tonight as she usually is. The girl misses nothing.

"It's okay, the film was a repeat anyway," she shrugs, not pressing you on the matter, though you know all too well that the questions will come eventually.

"Shall we head home? It sounds like it's getting pretty rough out there," you noted, as another howl of wind wipped around the wooden building.

"Sounds good; I want to have a shower before Joel uses all the hot water again," she ribs in a peel of bright laughter that sends warmth radiating through your now hollow chest.

When you reach the house, you find it in darkness. Joel hasn't made it home yet, and although you are beyond angry, you can't help but worry about him. Of course he can look after himself, but it isn't like him to be out this late if he wasn't on patrol.

The seething voice in the back of your head reminds you that he could be with her. You try to push those thoughts out of your head, but they linger like a dark cloud, casting a grim shadow over what was your perfect - or as perfect as it could be - life.

"I'm going for a shower and then head to bed, you okay?" Ellie asks, once again pulling you from your thoughts.

"Yeah, of course, kiddo, no worries. Do you need anything? You want some tea?" You offer as you head to the stove and place a pot of water on to boil.

"No, I'm good. Thanks though, g'night!" She calls over her shoulder, and then you are alone in the small kitchen.

"Night kiddo," You call quietly to her as you reach for the herbal tea blend that you and Ellie grew in your little garden last summer.

As you wait for the water to boil, your mind starts to race with worry and anxiety. You can't help but think of all the possible scenarios that could be keeping Joel out this late, and the thought of him being with another woman makes you want to break things. You have tried to push those thoughts out of your head so many times this evening, but they keep creeping back.

A few hours later, you are sitting in one of the armchairs in the living room, desperately fighting to keep your eyes open, but in the end you give up, gently placing your book on the coffee table and removing the blanket from your lap. You look at the clock on the wall, and it's just after 3am.

You pad into the kitchen and leave your mug in the sink, too tired to wash it now; that's tomorrow's problem. Heading up the creaky stairs to your bedroom and crawling into the cold sheets. It feels wrong going to bed without Joel by your side, but he is god knows where right now, so you lean over, turn the bedside lamp off, and sink into a restless, uneasy sleep.

You wake to the wintery morning sunshine seeping through your bedroom window. Instinctively, you run your hand across Joel's side of the bed; it's unmade but cold, so he did come home last night, but he was up before you, which is unusual.

Instinctively, you run your hand across Joel's side of the bed; it's unmade but cold, so he did come home last night, but he was up before you, which is unusual.

Slowly sitting up in bed, you stretch your tired bones, sore from your restless few hours of sleep, and swing your legs out of bed. It's only 7 a.m.; you don't usually open the bar until midday, so you have plenty of time to get ready.

You slink down the stairs, careful not to wake Ellie as you do so. Heading into the kitchen mid-yawn, you stop in your tracks as you find Joel standing at the stove, hovering over a pot of boiling water on the closest ring to him.

"Mornin'," he husks without turning; he must have heard you yawning with his good ear to the doorway.

You ignore him, knowing full well that it's petty and childish and ultimately will not resolve anything, but with the way he behaved last night, you feel the cold shoulder is justified.

You both continue with your morning rituals in silence. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but you didn't know where to begin broaching the subject, and the more you stewed over it, the more you felt he should be the one to open the conversation with an explanation, but if you were being totally honest with yourself, you were beginning to worry that you may have jumped to conclusions.

But when you thought about the way they were huddled together, her hand on his arm, and the way she tipped her head back in laughter at each thing he said, the pit in your stomach grew. As did the silence between you.

Things went on like this for days, with the two of you skirting around each other and avoiding eye contact. Only speaking to each other when absolutely necessary, like dinner times, and giving each other your work duties for the week.

You could see the effect this was having on Ellie; she has been especially quiet the last few days, so once Joel leaves for work, you sit with her on the couch and try to get her to open up.

"Ellie, is everything okay?" you ask, trying to keep your tone light.

"I don't know. You and Joel have been acting weird lately, and it's making me tense." She shrugs, not meeting your gaze.

You take a deep breath, knowing that you can't keep avoiding the issue. "Yeah, we've been having some problems. But it's nothing you need to worry about, kiddo."

"It doesn't seem like nothing," she retorts. "You guys haven't spoken in days. It's not like you."

"I know, Ellie. I just don't know how to fix it." You sigh.

"Maybe you could start by talking to him," she suggests.

"It's not that simple, Ellie. There's a lot going on." You shake your head.

"Well, maybe it would help if you talked to me about it," she offers.

"Thanks, Ellie. But it's not something I can really discuss with you. Just know that Joel and I are working through some things and we'll get through it." You smile softly at her, grateful for her kindness.

She nods, not looking convinced but not pressing the issue. You sit in silence for a moment before she stands up. "I'm gonna head out for a bit. Need to clear my head."

"Okay, kiddo. Be safe," you say, watching her leave.

You're left alone in the quiet house, the weight of your problems still heavy on your shoulders. You know Ellie is right; you need to talk to Joel. But the thought of confronting him is daunting, and you don't know if you want to hear what he has to say.

What if he doesn't want you anymore? What if he's not happy and hasn't been for a while?

You decide that enough is enough. After work this evening, you are going to speak to him and attempt to clear the air, hear his side of the story, and try to move forward, if not for the sake of your relationship but for Ellie. It's not fair to have this weighing on her shoulders; it's not her fault, and you hate seeing her unhappy, and you know that Joel will feel the same about his if nothing else.

The workday drags on uneventfully; the only thing standing out was that Jenna had come to the bar for the first time since that evening. She gave you a small smile, and you returned it with a polite nod. You were at work after all and took it upon yourself to remain as professional as possible.

Jenna approaches the bar and orders her usual, which you pour for her without issue, though it makes your skin itchy to be this close to her.

"Have you spoken to Joel yet?" she asks quietly. Wiping her fingertips across the bartop.

You stare at her blankly; the audacity of this woman boggles your mind.

"No," you respond curtly.

"Okay, well, when you do, come and find me. We'll have a lot to discuss." She states matter-of-factly, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

Before you have the chance to give her a piece of your mind, she is walking away from the bar, her long auburn hair swishing to her lower back. What the fuck is her problem?

You try to get through the rest of your day without dwelling on the conversation you had with Jenna, focusing more on the impending conversation you are going to have with Joel this evening. Thinking about what you were going to say to him, how you were going to explain how you felt, and how hurt you have been over the last few days.

You lock up the bar and head towards home for the evening, taking a little more time than you usually would, feet dragging, dreading the fight that would likely ensue once you had spoken to him. You tell yourself you will keep a level head, but you know deep down your temper would not allow that to happen if he gave you some bullshit excuse.

As you approach the small, snow-covered pathway that leads to the back porch of your home, you pause there, unable to bring yourself to go inside. So you take a seat on the second step and watch the flurries of fluffy snow as they make their way through the air to join the pillowy blanket that covers everything in sight.

You sit there for what feels like hours. Jackson was always quiet; it needed to be in order to keep what you have here safe, but as you sit in the darkness, the only light coming from the dim porch light and the light seeping through the thin linen curtains from the living room, it feels eerily silent and still. The sound of the backdoor creaking open made you jump. The heavy footsteps that followed, however, were all too familiar.

"You gonna stay out here all night?" He asked quietly, his voice low and soft.

"No, I was just… well, I don't really know what I was doing." You offer a small laugh, void of any humour.

Joel takes a few steps and groans loudly as he lowers himself to join you where you sit. He is quiet for a few moments until he finally speaks.

"I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the other night and how it must have looked. I'm sorry for not explaining to you then and there what it was; I didn't want to tell you, and I still don't really. But I promise you on my life that it is not what you think it is, Darlin," he says softly, regret heavy in his tone.

"I don't understand Joel; I just want to understand what the fuck has been going on," you pleaded, hating how desperate your voice sounded.

"I know, baby, and I'm going to tell you. I just didn't want to ruin the surprise. I also didn't want to tell you without speaking to Ellie first, but I spoke to her at dinner, and now she understands." He assures you, his hand coming up to brush your cold cheek for the first time in days, and it was impossible not to lean into the heat of his palm.

"Okay, so now everyone knows but me, why were you all cozied up with Jenna? Why did you lie to me about going to work?" You challenged him, removing your face from his touch.

"Hold on," he huffs, shifting his weight to one hip as he fishes for something in his back pocket before continuing. "It will make more sense once you see this, or I hope it will at least," he offers as he hands you a beaten-up, leather-bound note book.

"What is this?" You ask him, you remember seeing it on the table in the bar the other night.

"Would you just open it?" he sighs, rubbing his hand through his patchy whiskers nervously.

You do as he says and open the notebook, and what you find takes you aback. The notebook is filled almost front to back with little sketches of rings and little notes about different metals and gems in his familar handwriting and another that you don't recognize.

"Wh-what is this?" You repeat, stunned. So many thoughts racing through your mind and you are beggining to realise that you have completely misread the situaiton the other night.

"I know I was going to have to tell you about it eventually, you know for your size and all but I was planning to do that after I asked you…but then with the other night I wasn't sure what to say and I was kind of pissed off that you where angry at me, I didn't stop to think that you weren't in on the secret and what it must have looked like to you," Joel's hand came to rest on your knee squeezing reassuringly as he explained the circumstances that lead to what you saw in the bar.

"I have been meeting up with Jenna over the last few weeks, she's the only blacksmith in Jackson that used to make jewelry…specifically engagement rings," he paused allowing his words to sink in before finishing his explination.

"We've been trying to figure out how to make you one, what metals mix well from what I have found on supply runs, whether to hold off if I could find a stone or a gem, or if we could make it without one,"

You stare at him, a mix of astonishment and disbelief washing over you. The pieces start to fall into place, and you realize the truth behind Joel's actions. The anger and hurt that had consumed you begin to melt away, replaced by a flood of emotions, the most promanent being embarrassment.

"You were planning to… ask me?" you stutter, your voice barely a whisper. The weight of your accusation hangs heavy in the air as you struggle to comprehend the situation.

"Yeah, I was. I've been saving up for months, looking for the right opportunity, and I wanted it to be a surprise. Jenna's been helping me because she's skilled at crafting intricate pieces. I wanted to make something special for you, something that would last a lifetime." Joel nods, his eyes filled with sincerity.

Tears well up in your eyes as the realization of your mistake dawns upon you. You reach for Joel's hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "Oh, Joel, I'm so sorry," you say, your voice trembling. "I jumped to conclusions without knowing the whole story. I never thought…I feel like such a peice of shit, I'm so sorry"

"It's okay, darlin'. I should've communicated better, explained everything to you beforehand. I understand why you were upset." He squeezes your hand gently, his thumb caressing your knuckles.

"But why did you lie about going to work?" you inquire, still wanting to grasp every detail.

"We thought it would be best if we kept it a secret until it was ready. And I didn't want you to suspect anything. I wanted the proposal to be a surprise, and I was afraid if I told you I was hanging out with Jenna, you'd figure it out before I had the chance." He shrugged.

"Joel, I can't believe you're doing this. You've put so much thought and effort into making something special for us. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you. I have been so awful to you over the last few days," You let out a shaky breath, your heart filled with a strange mix of relief, shame and joy.

A soft smile graces Joel's lips as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. "Don't say that, sweetheart. You deserve the world, and I want to give it to you. I love you more than anything, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Tears stream down your face now, but they're tears of happiness. You lean in and rest your head on Joel's shoulder, feeling the warmth of his presence envelop you. The weight of the misunderstanding lifts, leaving behind a newfound sense of trust and appreciation.

"I love you too, Joel," you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity. "I'm sorry for being such a bitch and for overreacting. I should have known you'd never do anything to hurt me."

"Hey, we all make mistakes, darlin'. It wouldn't be the first time I've got pissed at you for something I misunderstood now is it?." he chuckles quietly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"I guess no ones perfect," you echo his laughter leaning into him further.

As you sit together on the porch steps, surrounded by the beauty of the snowfall, you realize that the snow isn't the only thing that's melting. The icy barriers that had formed between you and Joel are slowly thawing away, leaving behind a comfortable quiet.

"So, now that the cats out of the bag, will you…?" he asks his deep voice thick with emotion.

"Will I what handsome?" You look up at him teasing, your eyes twinkling.

A playful grin tugs at the corners of Joel's mouth as he meets your gaze. "Will you marry me, my beautiful, stubborn, and occasionally misunderstood partner in crime?" he asks, his voice laced with a mixture of nervousness and hope.

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and a surge of excitement courses through you. You pretend to ponder his question, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Well, I don't know, Joel. I mean, after all that's happened, can I really trust you with my heart?" you tease, a smile playing on your lips.

Joel feigns a look of hurt, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. "Oh, come on now. I've endured snowball fights, kitchen mishaps, you and Ellie ganging up on me and even your questionable taste in movies. If that's not true love, I don't know what is."

Laughter bubbles up from within you, and you lean in closer, pressing your forehead against his. "Joel, you are my love and my rock. Of course, I'll marry you," you say, your voice filled with so much love.

In that peaceful moment, wrapped in the calm of the snowfall and the safety of his strong arms, you realize that there will be silly arguments, misunderstandings and cold shoulders, but you will always find your way back to each other. You let out a sigh of contentment as Joel presses silent kisses against your head, happy to sit here forever wrapped up in him.

Knowing that Joel and Ellie will forever be your guiding lights.

#joel x reader #Joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #joel miller x female reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller #ellie wili #joel and ellie #joel x you #joel x y/n #Pedro pasca #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #tlou fic #fic request #mylostloversbookmarks

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sailor-aviator · 4 months

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Okay, so I've gone back and forth on whether or not to post this, but here we are. Long post under the cut.

I realize that I tend to post updates fairly often. However, I am not a machine, and I do actually have a full time job. The only reason I've been able to update like I have is because we've been in the off season. Eventually, things are going to pick up quite a bit and more than likely, I won't have as much free time to post like I do now. With that being said, I will try to get updates to you guys as much as I can, BUT there seems to be an attitude going around (not just towards me, but towards many other authors on here) that we should be updating almost every day. This is not feasible. Do I love that you guys love my stories so much? Absolutely! And I love talking about them with y'all. However, this is a hobby first and foremost. I am not being paid to write these stories and everything that I do post, I post for free. So, it's a little aggravating when I get asks in my inbox asking when I'm updating again after it's only been a week. It's a little aggravating when I get asks in my inbox for requests with not even a please or thank you, just a demand for something.

Which brings me to the next point. I don't mind taking requests. In truth, I'm a little backlogged right now, so until I can catch up, specific requests are closed. I will still talk about the stories with you guys, but I wouldn't necessarily expect a drabble until I can catch up on some of the ones that have been sitting in my inbox for about two months now. Along this same line, I really don't appreciate people coming into my inbox and telling me that you like my writing and then turning around and insulting it. I also don't appreciate when people come into my inbox and ask me to write an entire AU with specific scenarios while also insulting the way I write my characters. I love hearing about the different AUs you guys wanna see me do, but when you are sending me paragraphs of specific things you want to see in the AU, then it's no longer just an idea. At that point, you should be considering writing it yourself because it's not my original story at that point.

To clarify, there's a big difference between "I think it would be really cool if you wrote a mob AU and the reader could be a waitress or work in a bookshop or something" and "You should write a mob AU where the reader is a waitress and gets caught in a shootout and this character saves her! But then it turns out the waitress is secretly working undercover to bring down the mob boss and there's a shootout where this thing happens and then the characters have this specific conversation and then..."

I'm not trying to be a bitch, I swear I'm not. But it's frustrating when I can tell some of you don't even read the actual stories before ragging on them and then submitting a request in the same breath. It's also getting a little frustrating when I have the tag list at the top of my posts (with the trigger warnings) and I'm still being asked to add people to the tag list. I try to be accomodating and understanding, guys, but things have been a little much recently, and I just felt like I needed to say something. I know I'm not the only author on here experiencing this sort of stuff, and I'm not going to sit here and say that I'm speaking for them, but please start reading the author notes and the trigger warnings and what the author has posted before the actual story. And please stop pestering the authors on here about when they're posting. I know some people post daily, hell, I used to be one of them back when I was unemployed. But we have lives outside of this website guys, and a lot of us have plans with the holidays upon us as well as mental health problems with the changing seasons.

Again, I'm not trying to be a bitch, but I think people tend to forget that there are actual people behind these accounts, and while we love interacting with and giving you guys content, sometimes we need a break too. I know I have other hobbies other than writing, and sometimes I just need to take a step back so I don't get burnt out and stop writing altogether. Just show a little compassion and courtesy, y'all, that's all I'm asking.

Happy Holidays, and I hope to have something out for y'all this week if not a couple things. I have the entire week after Christmas off, but I don't know how much I'll be able to write given I have to go get my car fixed now and I have plans with some friends.

#long post #love y'all #just had to get this off my chest #but i'm very thankful for each and every one of you #liz rambles

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yourtwistedlies · 2 months

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❝ women’s hearts are lethal weapons ❞

val ! ✩ she/her ✩ minor ✩ jason grace’s gf (REAL) ✩ speak now obsessed ✩ gracie abrams lovebot ✩ summer baby ✩ certified procrastinator ✩ professional listener ✩ pathological people pleaser ✩ general amaya’s #1 fan ✩ fitz vacker defender ✩ honorary grammar police ✩ kpop stan (mostly ggs) ✩ my moots’ cheerleader ✩ under the illusion i can write ✩ somewhat smart ✩ cabin 13 girl ✩

dni: if you are racist, homophobic, xenophobic, support genocide and mass murder, sexist, 18+ only, religiophobic, creepy, toxic, or literally just a jerk, please leave!

byi: i swear sometimes!! i also adore using cute nicknames and pet names for my moots!! if you don’t feel comfortable w/ that or anything else, please let me know <33

moots - wattpad - ao3 - carrd - follower event (coming soon ⁉️) - 🇵🇸 | 🇺🇦 save the children!

•̩̩͙⁺ the basics ₊˚. ↴ ·˚༘

call me valerie/val or twisted!!

she/her, straight (heterosexual), minor (18+ only acc’s please do not follow), 18+ do not interact unless i interact first or we are moots (on my list or to be added- i am the judge of who is to be added), cancer (zodiac, but i don’t believe in them), Christian (i post about it sometimes), << summer baby, entp (mbti), 4w3 (enneagram), ambivert, slytherin, cabin 13, shade (guys i swear i wasn’t trying to be edgy or smth with the past two and this 😭😭 i took the official quizzes i promise lmao), swiftie, kpop fan, staying up writing until 4am gives me life, purple is the best color (this is not up to debate, only yellow even comes close), proud notes app writer, CATS > DOGS (occasionally my verdict changes), bunny lover, chronic platonic sofitzer, i’m either hyperactive or extremely tired (there is no in between), people say im smart, but sometimes i feel like the biggest idiot ever lmao, and ofc dex dizznee’s much needed publicist (my favorite role of mine ever)!!!

•̩̩͙⁺ music ₊˚. ↴ ·˚༘

taylor swift, olivia rodrigo, sza, conan gray, alicia keys, emei, gracie abrams, maisie peters, sabrina carpenter, laufey, queen riri (rihanna), adele, tiffany day, le sserafim, ive, newjeans, itzy, nmixx, stay-c, aespa, everglow, txt (baby fan), illit ＆ more kpop, lizzy mcalpine, pheobe bridgers, nessa barrett, pinkpantheress, claire rosinkranz, lyn lapid, alessia cara, reneé rapp, mckenna grace, and more!!

as i hope you can tell, i like a lot of music :)

•̩̩͙⁺ books ₊˚. ↴ ·˚༘

pjo, hoo, (never read toa, but yes, ik what happens in tbm), the rrverse, kotlc, city spies, ss (spy school), alex rider (not done with rr), the academy for the unbreakable arts,

and my many other fandoms i’ve forgotten about (dead magisterium fandom oop-)

i’ll add more fandoms as i remember them lol

•̩̩͙⁺ ships ₊˚. ↴ ·˚༘

rayllum, clauderry (stfu they’re adorable), percabeth (otp energy), sokeefe, dexiana, tiana (yes i know im the most indecisive bitch ever shut up you toad /jjjj i actually love u platonically), jason grace x ME (/j but i do love him lol), and more!!

•̩̩͙⁺ blogs ₊˚. ↴ ·˚༘

side blog: @yourtangledpromises

taylor blog: @iknowplxces

writing blog: @thejournalofvalerie (coming soon) (also, i won’t write anything 18+!! except curse words occasionally)

poetry blog: @yourwhisperedsecrets (coming soon)

moodboards/aesthetics blog: @yoursweetconfessions (coming soon)

and perhaps more?? (muahahaha)

•̩̩͙⁺ side note ₊˚. ↴ ·˚༘

if you’d like to be added to my moots list, or talk, please tell me (by wonder girls)!!

if we’re moots we’re actually bffs now (you just don’t notice it yet)

if i don’t respond to your ask/tag/rb/literally anything immediately i am not ignoring you!! i’m just lazy or busy and will do it later <33

im your biggest fan btw

1 Corinthians 16:14

with love,

valerie

#yayyyyy #pinned post time babyyyy #basically just me rambling abt myself lmao #pinned post #∿ 𖨌 {🧭} ₊˚.⋆☾ navigation ៸៸﹡.❤︎︎#ʋαʅ

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jasntodds · 6 months

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Petrichor Chapter 12 Teaser - Full Chapter coming 11/08

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb) Teaser Words: 1,834 Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, blood, violence, canon violence, manipulation, gunshot wounds, mentions of drug use, reader is fed the fuck up, description of withdrawal Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞ Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now. A/N: I've really been looking forward to this chapter and it's because of this scene lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

Tim is about to start talking all over again with even more enthusiasm and proof but he gets a look at your face, eying the men as they walk further into the restaurant. Maybe you're just paranoid but they look like they’re up to something. It’s that their walk is steady, determined, but careless. Their eyes don’t land on the menu or Tim or Mr. Drake. They’re pointed at the register. And that’s when you see the reflection of metal sticking out of the last guy’s waistband. He looks to you and then it starts.

The throbbing kicks in like a freight train. It’s an armed robbery and they plan to go out swinging. You're quick, rushing to Tim as they pull out their guns. Gunfire surrounds and encompasses the restaurant as you tackle Tim to the floor behind one of the counters.

Tim leans against the counter, ducking his head with every echo of a gunshot. His eyes are on you as you take a breath, as if to be debating what you're going to do. And Tim knows you knew this would happen. You were running to him before they had their guns pulled. And his thoughts are confirmed when you look back to him with fury in your eyes.

It's been less than five seconds but it gives you enough time to gather yourself. It's all you need. These people are not going to walk in here and murder the people you care about. They picked the wrong restaurant on the wrong night during one of the worst months of your life.

You lift your hoodie, pulling a knife from the belt around your waist before you pop up from behind the counter.

“Ya fucking missed, assholes!” You yell over at them as the knife leaves your fingers, connecting with one of the guys’ eyes, embedding itself deep into his skull as he drops to the ground.

The throbbing starts again from the side and you duck down just before a shot comes your way. You take another deep breath before grabbing another two knives and throwing one, hitting one of their jugulars. The last one still standing locks eyes with you, his gun pointed right at you. He has this...grin, one you almost swear you've seen before but you've never seen him before this. His breathing is steady and he actually looks relaxed while you have your arm ready and aimed with a knife, right at him.

His pupils are blown.

And then your heart sinks because Crane is free on the streets and these guys came in here completely fearless. This one finds the whole damn thing amusing. Maybe he's just high on something else, or maybe you're right and Jason and Crane have moved to disruption. Excellent Gotham wouldn't just be a coincidence.

“Give me the money and it’ll be over.” He says so easily you nearly roll your eyes.

“Kiss my ass.” You throw the knife, hitting this one in the arm with the gun. Then you throw another one, hitting him just below the eye. He drops to the ground in a hard thump, leaving the restaurant a glass and gun-shelled mess. The smell of gun metal seeps into the air while an eery and dense silence consumes the place.

Tim calls your name not ten seconds after the last man drops. There's panic in his voice, a sense of dread. You rush right over to him where he's against the food counter now, his dad leaning against the side of it. Blood seeps through Tim's hands are he tries to hold pressure on the wound. You kneel down, seeing Mr. Drake breathing heavily. Your eyes scan over him, quickly running over the crash course Jason gave you in gunshot wounds once.

“He’s been shot!” Tim yells, desperation in his eyes as he looks to you.

"Okay, move." You urge as Tim pulls his hands away. You lift Mr. Drake's shirt, seeing the wound oozing and you think you might prefer knife wounds instead of gaping holes. "It's gonna take the ambulance ten to fifteen to get here," You rush out. "So, we--"

"Is that...?" Tim asks, cutting you off as his eyes are on the window. He only even looked up to see if he saw someone for help or Stephen but instead of help, he just saw one person.

Jason Todd.

You look up just in time to catch a glimpse of him before he turns around. This cannot really be happening right now.

“Okay, keep pressure.” You look to the door, seeing Stephen rush in. “Stephen, call an ambulance and grab some towels!” You yell as you get to your feet. “Stay here, hold pressure with the towels. I’ll be right back.” Your words nearly slur together as they come out as fast as your mouth will let them,

You rush outside where you see Jason, his back facing the open windows of the restaurant. You can’t believe this. Of all the things he could do, of all the damn people in Gotham he could target, he really came for you. For your friend and his family. You can’t fucking do it anymore. This is insane. If he wants to go after Dick, fine. Sibling rivalry bullshit taken to an extreme. But this? This is targeting innocent fucking people.

“Jason!” You seethe as you approach him. “What. The. Fuck!?” You scream, nearly vibrating from the anger coursing through your veins.

But then Jason faces you.

The anger washes away as your mouth opens, looking for words. There are dark circles under his eyes, a hollowed expression of the charism that used to radiate off of him. Maybe it’s the dark lighting but you swear the green in his eyes is pale, his skin is pale. He looks like a shell of who he used to be. He’s been acting like it but now…he really looks the part and you're getting the idea that something really bad is happening.

Jason’s eyes are wide, tired, and exhausted but wide as he sees you come to a dead stop a few feet away from him. Why are you here? You're not supposed be here. He didn't see you inside of the restaurant. Not before the gunfire or after. How did he miss you? It can’t be you. He just wanted to show Crane he was right. He wanted to prove he could do this. He chose Excellent Gotham on purpose, a way to show Crane it’s a threat at you without being a real threat. He knows you went to Tim for help. You weren’t supposed to be here.

Jason questions your name, closing the rest of the distance between the two of you.

His hands immediately come to your face for just a second. He keeps his right hand on your cheek, while the other hand goes to your waist. His eyes scan you over quickly, desperate to make sure you weren’t hurt in the gunfire. He didn’t take the drug again yet, he was saving it for after. He’s scared. Panicked. Desperate and guilty. You have blood on your hands and on your clothes. Can’t be yourrs. Not you.

Please not you

“Are you hurt?” Jason rushes but his voice is weak and fragile, echoed in pain.

You eye him and you're stuck between wanting to punch him and wanting to kiss him in hopes to make it all better again. He’s slipping so far away from you and you're scared how far he’s willing to fall. Crane is doing something to him. He has to because he didn’t look like this last night. He didn’t even seem like he cared this much last night. Right at this exact moment, he feels like the old Jason. And you nearly get sucked right back into his gravitational pull.

“What…” The venom is gone from your voice. “What is he doing to you?” You ask, your hand comes to to his face. Not him. Not again.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jason’s voice breaks.

“You know I’m always here. I was hanging out with Tim. Jason…what the hell is he giving you?” You look him over and you notice him favoring his leg. You haven’t seen him much since he’s been back from the dead but this is the first time since that first day you're noticing it. You always notice it.

“Are you hurt?” Jason asks again and he can feel his heartbeat in his throat. He wants to spit his own heart right onto the ground in hopes it’ll stop the pain in his chest.

“No. I’m fine. It’s not mine.” You urge, catching him glancing at your free hand. “Jason, what is Crane giving you?”

Jason shakes his head, dropping his other hand to your waist. He misses you. He’s been so damn high all the time, he’s been able to ignore the longing in his chest. The one who always swore was his heart searching for yours. He could ignore it with ease but Crane has been keeping the drug close to his chest and this batch isn’t very good. He can feel it more tonight. It’s wearing off quicker. He can feel the worry for you and the care and the fact he fucking misses you. And the guilt for everything that’s led you both here.

“Same shit.” Jason grits his teeth. “You took it, you know.” He hates the words leaving his lips because they sound bitter and angry but it’s not at you. He just wants you to be okay and he wants to get the fuck out of here.

“No.” You shake your head, your voice soft. “Are you sure it’s the same drug? Jason, you look…is he withholding it from you?” His skin is cold and clammy under your fingers and his hair is flatter than usual.

You've seen it, what withdrawal looks like. You saw it on the streets and that’s what Jason looks like. Why would Crane do that? He’s insane and he doesn’t actually give a shit about Jason but Jason has been doing all of his bidding. You figure Jason is here with the drug. That’s why he just stood here while Excellent Gotham was attacked, he probably gave it to them. Surely, that has to be part of the plan. But, if that's the case, then why does Jason look like he's been thrown headfirst into withdrawal? And why would Crane be doing this?

“Stay the fuck out of it. I have it. It’s the same shit. It’s fine.” Jason grits his teeth. He wants to break. He wants to lose it for the first time since that first day on the roof with you. It feels like it's been months since and it's only been a week. And you look at him with worry and fear and you have always had a way with getting Jason to breathe. But, he can't afford that right now. Not you. “Please.”

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#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood fanfic #red hood fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #petrichor #tw: blood #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction

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actualbird · 11 months

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hi zak! I saw the tags you left on a reblogged post about Luke and suffering in relation to catholicism and that made me think. one of my classmates used to mention "the catholic guilt" (particularly about having desire), and I just thought it fits Luke so well. He felt so guilty about loving Rosa (and leaving her alone...) for so long T-T. Also, I'd love to hear more of your thoughts about catholic and filipino luke if you'd like to write about it!

irt to these deranged tags i left on this post abt suffering as salvation and luke forever ago, screencapped below for reference

hello hello! sorry this response took Ages but now im finally down to answer this so....

//steeples hands.....is luke pearce catholic coded? to Me, yes, and ive been casually throwing around this concept ever since 2021 HAHA. the filipino bit is actually just me projecting, so i wont go too much into that, but the religious bit Is something i wanna talk about. and i apologize in advanced for how long this response is gonna end up being

quick disclaimer b4 i start tho: im Not a theologian or an expert in religious theory, im just some guy who went through over a decade of catholic school and lives in the philippines, a primarily catholic country. this whole response is not saying "catholicism bad." it's more the institutions from where we experience catholicism from can twist it into something harmful, and i got to experience that first hand and how it affects one's view of themselves

ANYHOO, LET'S START FROM THE BEGINNING

like....the Beginning beginning

part 1: in the beginning, adam and eve did an oopsie so now we're all saddled with original sin (i swear this is important to luke pearce, bear with me)

quick recap on those who are unfamiliar: in the book of Genesis, god told adam and eve not to eat from the tree of knowledge. and then they did. this was the first ever sin in the history of humankind, and it is inherited by all humans through birth. so like, yay, happy entrance into the world, newly born baby child! you are guilty of sin already. this original sin is most usually absolved though through baptism, so it's not too much of a problem. but what im interested here is less of the nitty gritty semantics and more of the concept this all puts forth:

that under catholicism and similar denominations, a child, somebody who has not done any wrong at all, is inherently tainted by sin

now, the Good reaction to sin or any wrongdoing one has done is to recognize it and to atone for forgiveness. and within the "recognition" part is where guilt lies. functionally, guilt has a purpose. it makes us realize that we had done something wrong, it makes us feel remorseful, and it adds motivation to atone, to turn a new leaf, and to be better. in healthy amounts, guilt is useful and a natural part of being conscious over the things you do. and in unhealthy amounts, guilt is agonizing.

but thats for stuff you actually Did.

if the thing you are guilty for isnt actually something you were responsible over, the guilt cant do anything to make any of it better. you cant be a better person from it, because you didnt even do it. it just sits there, making you feel horrible for something that was out of your control. but because guilt is a Good thing to do, it doesnt matter if it's functional or not. it needs to stay. because it's Good, and the sin youre saddled with (whether or not you were responsible) is Bad

now let's bring in luke

luke's parents died when he was very young. this led him to living with mc's family, and a huge insecurity and fear he had from the beginning was that he felt guilty for burdening them, for stealing the love and care from mc's parents when that shouldve been for mc alone. the story SSR Shape Of You goes into this particular childhood experience extensively (and i highly reccommend it to anyone who hasnt read it yet), and tells us that his guilt was so bad that he wanted to run away and even erase himself from existence.

but luke didnt even do anything wrong

at the time, he was a child. he had no bearing whatsoever in the accident that killed his parents, he had no sway over who wouldve ended up looking after him, he had no control over the situation. like a newborn baby born under catholic doctrine, luke finds himself inherently tainted by and guilty for the circumstances that landed him to where he was.

this kind of pattern is going to follow him for the rest of his life, and the concept of inherent sin and inherent guilt begins to evolve. if luke can find himself guilty for things out of his control, then he can also find himself guilty for things that arent even sins in the first place

key example: love

like you said, luke feels immense guilt over loving mc. but why? love is the opposite of a sin, afterall.

it's just a sin when luke does it. because luke sees himself as inherently bad, and sees mc as inherently good. he sees himself as unworthy of her or someone who will just bring pain into her life, and causing pain someone you love is bad. if love is the knife he uses to hurt someone he loves, then that love is bad. that love should not be realized, and luke should feel guilty for even yearning for her.

by this point i think it's obvious that original concept has become twisted and overly punishing, even cruel. and thats because:

a lot of institutions teach catholic doctrine in an unhealthy and harmful manner. this is why many catholics and lapsed catholics experience The Catholic Guilt(TM). what was originally a pretty reasonable thing gets blown out of proportion from the places we learn these things from, and then getting exposed to this for majority of our lives lets it worm its way into our brain where it'll tend to stay

and if one's brain also has a tendency for self hatred and/or mental illness........well. it all gets worse.

it's clear in canon that luke is uhhhh not the most mentally well individual. his guilt is so overwhelming that it's the driving force in so many of his choices, stories, and experiences. which is big reason #1 for why luke just seems so catholic to me, because of the sheer intensity of his guilt and how he sees himself as inherently bad and unworthy.

but in the roadmap of sin, thats only the beginning. because the process goes:

sin (bad) -> recognition of the bad aided by guilt (good) -> atonement to become better (good)

which leads to big reason #2

part 2: suffering, pain, and misery as atonement

it's important to note that catholicism does not posit that "suffering is good", but there is a clear pattern of veneration for people who endure suffering under noble causes. many, many people in catholic history have been martyred (and many also sainted), one of the biggest examples being jesus himself.

pain is not good, but someone who chooses to take it on for good reasons (self-sacrifice, martyrdom, putting others above one's self) or stays good in spite of all the pain they experienced (unwavering faith, a heart of gold), well, THAT person is good.

however, like a lot of stuff in catholicism, things get twisted into extreme variations because of how it gets taught or experienced. it doesnt take a genius to see how "people who endured pain for good reasons were brave and devoted people" can transform into "to experience pain is inherently noble" when you take into consideration that many sins (like, of the seven deadly sins variety, pride, sloth, lust, etc etc) are variations of indulgence.

specifically over-indulgence, yes, but there's a dichotomy now. here, in the list of Good Stuff are things that feel not-so-good, and over in the list of Bad Stuff are things that do feel good

bad stuff is a sin, and from part 1, sins are things you should be guilty for

and now, to feel good is also bad, so you should be guilty for that. which reinforces the concept that to feel bad is good.

congratulations, you've unintentionally glorified suffering and demonized pleasure! //sad trumpet noises

you can see this kind of thinking pretty clearly in luke pearce. there are the big examples like the previous one i brought up, where he feels so guilty for his feelings for mc. but it appears even in smaller casual situations, like in his 1st birthday event story. this moment was seared into my brain

"can i look forward to this?" is indicative of hesitating in the face of happiness. even something as mundane as anticipating a birthday surprise is something to be approached with caution, feels too good to be true, to be allowed, because feeling good is bad and luke doesnt see himself worthy of it

but okay, we're all guilty now of the horrible sin of enjoying life. what comes next? atonement, becoming better, growing from the bad to become good, right?

and what better way to cleanse one's self from the sin of feeling good but through the nobleness of enduring pain?

luke is guilty over the sin robbing burdening mc and her family -> thats okay he's leaving for college anyway! wont be able to burden them there -> oopsie the NSB happens but hey at least this lone wolf suffering is a great way to atone for his past sin -> oh god the guilt of abandoning mc though -> oh GOD the mission that killed everybody but him -> NEW ACHIEVEMENT: SURVIVOR'S GUILT ON TOP OF THE CATHOLIC GUILT! -> oh GOD he's even guiltier now of his feelings for mc because of his illness, he'll only bring pain to her, how selfish of him to have feelings like this, bad and wrong -> the best way to handle this is to stay away from her to let her live in peace (lacking the pain that luke will bring) and deprive himself of her who brings him joy (inflicting pain of separation onto sinner as punishment) -> the path to salvation (to being good, because only in being Good is someone worthy of love) is through constant suffering and endless self-deprivation

kinda insane how luke's self-perceived sins and self-inflicted sufferings gain compound interest of misery, but his spiral into self-loathing is littered with this kind of nonsensical "because i did [THING], i should deserve pain/NOT deserve happiness"

for luke, suffering became the mode of atonement, it became the solution for sin and guilt.

part 3: conclusion

to wrap this all up, i wanna make it clear that i dont necessarily think luke is like, catholic in the story. nor is even it a headcanon i have. it's more that the intensely self-punishing thought patterns luke has in relation to guilt and suffering are very, very familiar. it resonates in a way that is horridly relatable to people who have experienced these specific catholic experience woes, but it can also resonate in completely different ways to other people as well.

but given that....yeah. based on my own experiences, all this //gestures at too-long response, is why i keep using catholic language and imagery whenever i talk about luke. it's so familiar. he's so familiar. luke would not be out of place in a filipino catholic high school crying during a 3 day retreat

thanks for the ask!!!

#tears of themis #moonstruck-writing #asks #luke pearce #xia yan #tot luke #tears of themis analysis

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yanderes-galore · 11 months

Note

Hello!! I'd like to request for homestuck please! Do you have any headcanons for the type of yandere Dirk Strider would be? And how he may treat or act around his darling?

(If you need a time frame at all in the comic timeline, I can suggest post-game (before the epilogues so no worry to know those or hs^2) - it might work out easier to write for!! Otherwise if you don't, disregard this paragraph hehe)

Sure! Sorry it took so long (It's been MONTHS 😥😭), I needed to shove the entirety of Homestuck in my brain and have coherent thoughts about it. I'm actually not entirely done with Act 6 yet (I wanna say halfway through-ish?) so if he's very OOC my bad.... I can make an updated version at a later date maybe? Take this as an AU of Act 6 just in case, I just wanted to explore his yandere type.

Here's what I got! Now that I think about it I want to write more for Homestuck... it's really good and I'm happy I finally experienced it. Thanks Tumblr 💜 I tried to keep this general as the first concept for a character I write typically is :)

Writers who gave me motivation and inspiration to start this work; @yandere--stuck and @bunnyjam-imagines . Your work is incredible and keep doing what you're doing ^^ 💜Your Dirk fics really helped me with this so I dedicate this to you, too. IF YOU DO NOT WISH TO BE TAGGED LET ME KNOW, THANKS.

Possible Spoilers For Homestuck Act 6

Yandere! Dirk Strider Concept

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Overprotective behavior, Hidden cameras, Secret recording, Dirk struggles expressing feelings, Invasion of privacy, Brief violence mention, Swearing, Kidnapping, Dubious relationship, Isolation, Controlling behavior, Implied jealousy, Angst, I like this version of yandere Dirk where he just feels conflicted.

Dirk is a very interesting character and I've noticed there has been a pattern in the way people write him as a yandere.

Dirk seems like a yandere whose lucid in his behavior.

He has tendencies to know what he's doing is wrong, or at least this is a pattern I've seen in the way others write him.

I can agree with this as Dirk seems like he takes on the role as guardian for the other people in his group at times (Jake, Jane, Roxy).

Dirk would be very caring towards his darling despite the emotional baggage he has behind the scenes.

He most likely met you through a chat client like the rest.

Since he was young he's always had an interest in puppets, robots, and horses...

He could've met you through one of these interests or by one of his other friends introducing you.

Either way, Dirk finds himself talking to you more and more when he adds your handle.

Dirk's yandere behavior isn't overly romantic even when his feelings are that way.

He doesn't really like expressing it all that much.

Dirk's behavior comes off as just him looking out for you.

He's like a guardian who's willing to do anything for those he cares about.

Based on the fact Dirk has made robots for Jake and Jane in the past, usually for special occasions or requests, he probably would make one for you eventually.

Dirk is very skilled with robotics and wouldn't mind creating some sort of bot for you no matter the size or purpose.

Dirk does try to keep one goal constant when making you a robot gift...

It has to protect you.

He's responsible and wants nothing more than those he cares about out of harm's way.

If they reciprocate his feelings or not doesn't matter....

When he does make that robot gift he puts a lot of his time into it.

AR has to spend a lot of time responding to his friends as all of his time is spent multi-tasking on a ton of tasks.

Building your gift... talking to you... watching his dreamself...

He's kind of worn thin.

Once it's finished he sends it to you with a brief message.

It's his way of showing his care even if he seems very closed off with feelings.

This robot is the first camera he manages to sneak in your home.

Dirk even has secret folders on his PC of just footage.

Part of him feels guilty for recording you... but he tries to reassure himself this is what a robotic guardian needs.

The robot is the biggest part leading into his obsession.

It can act on its own to protect you or like a drone he can control and see through.

He feels guilty that he's using it to interact with you like he's actually there....

Dirk's feelings could swap over the more he sneaks electronics into your house and the more he cyberstalks you.

There's a certain threshold he passes when he eventually has to admit he's got feelings for you if he has them.

Clearly he doesn't just want to protect you like a friend, right?

Why else would he watch you sleep with that robot you thought of as a cute gift from him?

He can't help but search through files upon files containing pictures and video feed of you being... you.

He feels he could never admit it fully but he does like you.

One way or another....

Dirk's obsession is very... what's the word... quiet?

He seems like the yandere who would just hover in your shadow... just to keep you out of harm.

He isn't a very violent yandere and is more just like a guardian to you due to his fear of revealing his feelings, which makes him work well as a platonic or romantic yandere.

Dirk probably could use violence to protect you but doesn't always tend to.

His robot guardian he made for you is indeed armed, though.

The robot he gave you isn't as merciful and may even get bloody if it has to for you.

He doesn't mind if you feel the same for him or not... he would like you to but you don't have to....

He seems like the yandere who'd sigh and regret saying anything if you rejected his feelings... but respect the decision somewhat.

That doesn't stop his overbearing behavior.

The comic does say when he puts his heart to something he won't give up until he accomplishes it.

Friend or lover, Dirk tends to act controlling.

Be it him talking to you through your robot, in the chat client, or in person if he ever meets you... Dirk seems to act like he knows more than you.

He has a bit of an ego and can come off as obnoxious in conversation at times.

He always acts like he knows what's best for you.

He looks back on the times he has acted like this with regret later... as I said, lucid yandere.

In fact a lot of his obsession makes Dirk regret it at times.

This could be because he harbors self-hatred for himself already and his obsession over you doesn't help.

He doesn't really want to give you up, though.

Dirk would manipulate you like a puppet at times.

For some reason when others are close to you, he hates it.

They could just be close friends, or potential partners...

He just can't handle it... he feels he has to prevent it or he may just lose the chance to have you.

Sometimes the darkness of his obsession kicks in and he... gives in to acts he shouldn't.

Such as using your robot to invade your privacy...

Maybe even manipulating your friends Jane, Roxy, and even Jake away from you...

That and the countless times he's considered kidnapping you to keep you alone with him just to soothe his aching thoughts.

Dirk seems like he'd struggle a lot with his obsession.

He hates the idea of hurting you.

He knows there's a good chance his obsession will hurt you, which hurts him...

All of this just causes him hurt.

Yet the more he speaks to you about interests and learns more and more about you...

He knows he can't let you go.

There's no doubt Dirk vents the frustrations his feelings cause him to Lil Cal his puppet pal.

Who else is he supposed to tell?

It's not like these feelings, regardless of the intention, are normal?

'Yeah, I stalk my friend through a robot and manipulate their life like some sort of puppet stage. What do I do to make them reciprocate?'

It's batshit and he knows it....

Roxy will just use it as gossip later... she may even tell you with some subtle hint or something.

Jane's a very sweet woman but he just feels... uncomfortable admitting he has such dark feelings about you?

You'd think Jake would be a good fit to talk to, being bros and all, but Dirk decides he'd rather just vent his feelings to himself and keep it like that.

Until he eventually acts....

Soon Dirk is going to just wing it.

It seems like a very Strider thing to do.

Your robotic companion he gifted is going to act against you in the end.

While he once used it to make you feel like je was always there with you... soon he's going to use it to abduct you.

Somehow.

Dirk's obsession feels like a constant battle with himself.

Even more so than his fights with AR.

He begins to wonder what is truly right.

Is isolating you beside him the right thing to do?

What will his friends say?

That shouldn't matter, should it?

You can all talk together when you're safely with him... if he hasn't scared them off by then-

Yet, how would YOU feel towards what he's doing?

You'll hate him... and he can't blame you.

He'd hate him too. He probably already does.

But... what he doesn't hate is you.

Surely he can make you understand once he has you.

Dirk has always tried to be caring for you.

Even when your robot companion drags you into his home, you clinging to it with fear, Dirk greets you warmly.

Oh he feels so sick when he locks you in his home.

He feels he doesn't deserve you when you cower... no longer willing to converse with him like you used to.

You don't deserve him, he deserves only to suffer under the weight of his obsession.

He's always beating himself up about it the whole time, yet won't change any of it.

Even if you do somehow forgive him.

Even if you try to say you do care for him?

He isn't sure if he can believe you after he's kidnapped you.

Don't bother lying, he sees through it.

You can hate him... you're allowed to as any other sensible human would.

There's truly nothing he can do to salvage what he once had for you after he goes off the deep end.

He's made you all alone... now there's only him.

He knows he should let you go...

But wouldn't it be cruel to abandon you after he made your life hell?

He continues his behavior with this new form of reassurance.

He'll continue to look after you, he'll prove to you he can give you so much better.

He tries to show affection.

He gives you hugs, he tries to express his obsession in a loving way.

Perhaps even kisses, some on your cheeks or lips depending on his feelings?

Lucid yanderes tend to be self-destructive.

They know this isn't how they should feel.

Dirk knows he should do what's best for you.

His mind has been clouded in darkness, however...

Far as he knows now, HE'S what's best for you.

He promises to care for you like he's always done since you mean so much to him... ironically to help heal the pain he's caused... and is probably still causing.

Dirk still helps you when you cry and comforts you when you act out.

He emphasizes with your pain and feels sick that he knows why you feel this way.

Every touch he feels from you his heaven, while you may think he's hell.

Every apology from his lips doesn't feel truthful... they're empty.

He could always let you go...

He could always try to make things right...

Those options require giving you up.

Deep down... he knows he can't.

He feels he can finally say it,

He loves you too much to let you go.

He may be his own worst enemy but he wants to be selfish when it comes to you.

He's always at a constant war with himself, resulting in him seeming distant with affection.

You quickly become his everything... thoughts of you destroy his psyche...

Soon... he gives up... he surrenders... he begins to accept it.

He loves you...

and this is how he's going to show it.

#yandere homestuck #yanderestuck #yandere dirk strider #yandere homestuck x reader

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familyvideostevie · 2 years

Note

Ok I was not expecting November to be out until actual November so when I saw your post about au reqs and that the story was finished, I was like ??? Omg what ???

Anyway, loved loved the fic, the concept was original and executed so well, give me x1 farmer’s market steve please. You and your writing talents are incredible! ❤️

And I also have some au requests! and tbh it’s mostly like Steve pov for like everything 🫢 I know it’s going to hurt so much but Steve pov when he comes back and reader’s not there 🥺 And then on the flip side, steve’s first impression of reader at the market 🥺 And also, steve and reader’s first date when they’re back together 🥺

thank you so much for reading!! i'm so glad you liked the fic <3 as for your request, i'm going to go with the middle one -- steve's first impression of bee girl at the market! i have a hard time getting into steve's head but i've tried my best <3

steve's first impression, 1.1k | a no good at waiting one-shot | au masterlist ___

It's not a great Saturday for Steve. The thin fabric on the knee of his jeans finally tore when he tugged them on this morning and he's pretty sure he's getting a sunburn since Robin stole his hat. And, to add to his stress, said best friend is trying her very best to ruin his birthday surprise for her.

Nothing big, not really, just a few candles in her favorite scent from New-Bee's. Which he's meant to pick up today, but Robin won't leave him alone. Despite all of this, Steve manages to take a few deep breaths in the hustle and bustle of market prep. He's a pro at this by now -- making sure all of the produce is organized, prepping the bags for customers, and getting the change drawer sorted. He knows that Claudia Henderson will be by for her plums at 10 and that Ted Wheeler will want apples without any bruises at 1. He'll swing by Rick's to give Eddie his eggs at 11:30 and Joyce will want some berries for Will at close.

This is Steve's life and damn, he's got it down to a system. And he loves it. The Hawkins farmer's market is his home and he knows it like the back of his hand.

Which is why he barely stops himself from swearing out loud when he sees you at the New-Bee's stand instead of Melanie. How could he have forgotten that the new girl was due? Everyone has been waiting for you to show at a market since you got here but this weekend seems to be the one you've decided to make you appearance at. All of his stress rushes back to the surface and he knows he's not going to be his best self for the next few moments. But he needs these candles before Robin notices he's gone.

Even still, he allows himself to stare at you for a few moments before he gets your attention. You're pretty, he realizes with surprise. Really pretty and you look a little lost, a little shy. The stand has been organized much more carefully than Melanie ever bothered to, everything in neat rows with the labels turned out. You care, that much is clear. But why? he wonders. How did you get here?

Not questions for now. He looks over his shoulder but finds no sign of Robin. "Hello? Anybody home?" he says, waving his gloves in front of your face. You startle a little, then smile hesitantly.

"Hi," you say. "Can I...help you?"

He taps his foot once. "Who are you? Where's Melanie?" He doesn't really listen to what you say, eyes taking in your name tag. He says your name aloud in his head, turns it over in his mind before casting it away. And then you say his and he fights the urge to shiver. Get a hold of yourself, Harrington, he thinks.

Maybe he can turn on the charm for you. You probably don't have any friends yet, maybe haven't talked to anyone your age in weeks. So he figures he can pull it off. He decides to lean in, but that only gives him a better look at your face, at the color of your eyes. He has to blink a few times to get himself to focus.

What happens next isn't entirely his fault. That's what he tells himself. It's the unfortunate combination of the day: he's a little stressed, you're new and he doesn't know you, the threat of Robin seeing his activities at any second. But one second he's thinking about flirting with you for real and the next you're telling him you don't have the candles and then you're snapping at him and--. Well. He's backing away and heading for Sara's empty-handed and tasting something sour.

"What was that about?" Robin asks him when he slides behind the berries and starts to fuss with them. "Did Eddie just say you were being mean to the new girl? I haven't even met her yet, Steve! You can't ruin my chance to charm her."

"Yeah, good luck with that," he scoffs. "She's a real treat." Maybe he's being a bit cruel but you were pretty rude to him. He doesn't want you to be rude to Robin, too.

He drags her with him to Rick's to drop off Eddie's eggs during a lull. She interrogates him the whole time.

"I don't get it, Steve," she says and he shushes her. "She just refused to help you? I don't think Bob would hire someone like that."

"Yeah, Harrington," Eddie says, watching the conversation with interest. "You sure you're not just rattled by how pretty she is?" Steve scowls and hopes he's not blushing. Will no one believe him?

"What's it to you, Munson?" Steve bites out. Eddie holds up his hands and gins.

"No need to get jealous, dude," he says. "She's all yours." Robin cackles.

"She's not -- shut up!" Steve runs his hands through his hair. These fuckers will never let him have a moment's peace. "That's not what this is about. Besides, she doesn't seem eager to make friends. I mean, she was pretty rude to me!"

"Yeah, I'm sure you were so nice to her," Robin says. "How did she piss you off so much?"

"She couldn't find the...uh...stuff I ordered weeks ago, Robin. I mean, keeping track of stock isn't hard. I don't know where she came from anyway. Maybe she'll be gone once Bob realizes she's losing stuff like an idiot." Steve has his back to the crowd and he catches Robin's grimace too late.

"Steve," you say loudly, and then your hand is on his shoulder, not so gently turning him around to face you. His brain moves a little too slowly, eyes widening and cheeks flushing as he realizes you overheard him. Shit, he thinks.

Maybe he can salvage this. "Uh--"

"I found your things," you say. Your grin is downright terrifying, and yet he still thinks you're pretty. "So sorry it took so long. I'm just so new and stupid." He grabs the parcel you shove into his hands and doesn't even lean back when you get really close. He can see you pupils dilate. "You don't know a thing about me," you hiss, "so I think you should go fuck yourself."

You turn on your heel and stalk away and Robin and Eddie start to laugh a little too hard.

"Oh my god," Robin says around her heaving breaths. "She's amazing. That was amazing."

"Pick your jaw up off the ground, Harrington," Eddie says. "You'll catch flies." Steve snaps his teeth together and frowns at his friends.

"Stop laughing," he demands. "This isn't funny! I told you she was rude!"

Robin pats him on the back, eyes on the parcel. He shoves it behind him and she sticks her tongue out.

"Yeah, dude," Eddie sighs. "You're so fucked."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #no good at waiting

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colesstar · 7 months

Text

MAKIN A PINNED POST CUZ WHY NOT!!

OKAY HELLO, I am ‼️COLESSTAR‼️, pronouns are she/her and i am a miner (⛏)!! Should’ve updated this way earlier but

IF YOU SUPPORT ISRAEL PLEASE GET OFF OF MY BLOG, IF YOU ARE NEUTRAL PLEASE EDUCATE YOURSELF, YOU HAVE ACCESS TO THE INTERNET MAKE USE OF IT

Also this has turned into a multi-fandom blog main fandom is ninjago though (Extra not as important stuff below cut + my tags)

I like to very aggressively love my favourites uhm so of i start insulting a character itd more likely its /j and /aff unless its like genuinely a bad character like nadakhan

I post mostly about ninjago but you might see me reblogging Shakespeare,fnaf etc. don’t mind it. If you see me arguing with @/1989deluxed (or @/tybalttruther adding @/clouseninjago) it isn’t serious i swear 😭

PLS TALK TO ME I DONT BITE I SWEAR I DO HOWEVER RAMBLE ALOT (through posts/asks, not DMs unless we’ve had a conversation before, people scare me sometimes)

I FAVOURITE MOST OF THE NINJAGO CHARACTERS sometimes i have one i focus on for the day its mostly Jay, Cole or pixal i think, hai its 4 nov and WHY IS MY GIRL NYA NOT ON THERE??? Uhmm its Jay cole zane kai Pixal Nya Skylor llllloyd or Ronin actually add harumi on girls RAPTONNN fuck just add the whole cast at this point

NINJAGO MASTER OF THE MOUNTAIN‼️‼️ *explodes*

Also i am VERY conflicted on skybound but i do severely hate nadakhan its the only set decision ive made on the season. (Idk what date this bit was added but looking back at this is like AUGH i remember genuinely loosing sleep over skybound when i first watched it definitely dont think about it as much anymore but keeping this here for the sake of it (13/2/24))

MY TAGS!!

#ririarts - ART TAG (shockingly)

#doodles - just doodles

#internal skybound conflict - anything i post about skybound

#riri headcanons

#canonically canon confirmed by ri - headcanons except not all of them are mine but I’ve just confirmed them to be canon because i think they should be

#colesstar posts - i need to organise this shithole of a blog i love it anyways

#The Ninpanions- posts about the ninjas pets that i came up with (minus Zanes falcon)

#Riri Court of Justice - I do weekly polls :D theyre about ninjago ofc but they’re not about the main ninja or the seasons because yeah

#the Pinkification of lloyd garmadon - I dyed lloyds hair pink.

#lorenzas ninjago lore - my friend attempted to tell ninjago lore

the names maria btw the top but is to throw people off

My right eye hurts (unrelated)

#pinned post #Colesstar posts #ririarts #riri headcanons #canonically canon confirmed by ri #Doodles #internal skybound conflict #The Ninpanions #Riri court of justice #The Pinkification of lloyd garmadon

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tipsygnostalgy · 11 months

Text

On Grandpa/Jake Harley

you know shits about to be long as fuck when i add the keep reading line like four lines in lol

anyway anon all this is 4 u!! feel free to talk ab this by just tagging instead of rb i dont want 2k words to be posted over n over again

Grandpa Harley being some kind of pseudo-omnipotent deity figure who somehow figures out/guesses (my money's on guesses) extremely intricate details about the game and does everything he can to make things go right is something that we don't talk about enough. It's one of the only plans in Homestuck made that are orchestrated entirely by one person then ends up going right. It's that pattern of hoping that the cards fall into place in the right way (unless we're taking the Grandpa is practically God perspective, which is interesting in its own right)—but notably, he makes a lot of preparations beforehand. He's so... active. It fascinates me. I'll have to talk about this on the Jake English as Jesus Christ trope post (it's coming, I swear, brainrot's a bitch) but the sheer amount of things he does is astounding. But, lo and behold, he wasn't always like this. Cue: the Skaianet Systems Incorporated texts.

Quick note about all that. A very large portion of the things Hussie wrote for SSI is 1) dubiously canon, and 2) a bunch of anti-semitic bullshit that he probably never should have fucking released to the public, at least not like that. Like, holy shit, keep that and your weird comments about sexual slavery in your Notes app dude, we don't need to hear it. For this reason I suggest reading the actual material with extreme caution. Cool? Cool. On with it. Here's a lil' review of Jake Harley before the session.

Funny enough, Jake had always been kind of pathetic in the Beta session as well.

So Skaianet was actually established by HIC as a front for laundering technology from Alternia and Sburbian ruins. The key of SN was not to actually develop tech, but make it look like it so that people will believe you when your company just re-defined gravity for the hundredth time. Jake has to play the "famous genius shtick," but he doesn't do so well. When he fully inherits SN at 21 he runs it hands-on, and "believes" his success is due to hard work and diligence. He also "believes SN is now a considerably more distinct entity from Crocker Corp, and his leadership of the company is a result of his hard work and competence. Neither is true." He's manipulated by his at-the-time boyfriend (Charlie Chaplin, somehow) into letting a rebel force into the Crocker manor, though the effort is ultimately thwarted by HIC.

He also has a disastrous love life. His relationship at sixteen with Chaplin consists of Chaplin finding him "obnoxious and thoughtless" though he "can't seem to quit him," and Jake ultimately "[toys] with his heart, and [abandons] him." This later (much later, think decades) manifests into something way worse when Chaplin appears in an outing Jake has with one of his families (he's had many, though not at once) and tries to kill Jake for not just his involvement with SN/HIC, but for breaking his heart as well. Notably, in this scene, upon having a gun aimed at him Jake reflexively hides behind his wife, who ends up being shot in his stead. He's out-strifed so badly that he'd have died in the jungle (oh yeah he takes his wife and 5yo son to a jungle btw) if Chaplin didn't have a divine intervention moment afterwards.

At 32 he also abandons his post at SN for fucking around Europe. "[H]e's out exploring and adventuring, completely oblivious to whatever's going on in Europe. He hops from site to site, looking for Sburbian ruins to plunder." One, the "whatever's going on" is WW2, again, somehow. Two, he has a daughter there that he "takes custody of, apprentices as an adventurer, and takes all over the place on his adventures." When he takes her to Hawaii she ditches him because she's sick of her "douchebag dad." And there's that Jude family too, obviously.

Oh, and all the Beta guardians are also meteor babies. It's how Jake ends up finding Dirk and Roxy to begin with—he sets them up with trust funds in Texas and New York so that they can be of use to SN later, though whether he knew their importance in the larger context of SBURB is unclear.

All caught up? Great.

The exact details of how every event goes down aren't as important as the lessons you can draw from it, namely: Jake Harley is an absolute fucking mess of a human being. He continuously creates families—notice how he keeps having children with his wive—then is bereaved of them. A few times he abandons them, a few times they abandon him, and sometimes they get killed by your ex-boyfriend. It's a neat little insight into just how neck-deep these commitment issues lie, but it's also fun to consider that he seeks it so desperately. This man has on record has had:

one wife be shot dead in front of him

a son who was technically kidnapped from him by the man who almost beat him to death (his ex-boyfriend)

a daughter ditch him in the middle of hawaii for being a shitty dad

a daughter (joey claire) be teleported by portal to alternia, who hated jake so much she took her dead mom's last name

said dead mom/wife whom upon her death leaves her children "Semi Orphans" because he just straight up ditches his kids to go work on hellmurder island

probably more

And he still considers himself a grandfather to Jade. TBF, I guess the easier way of explaining it is that it's simply the natural explanation—they are sort of related after all. But considering that he once sired an illegitimate daughter and not only took her into custody but tried to raise her as his liege, I still find it the fact that he tries over and over again to the point of rending the family meaningless interesting. I think it's viable that Jake wanted a family—not one where he and Jane were raised by HIC and poorly—but a real one. His attempt to raise that first daughter to mirror his habits reflects the way HIC raised Beta Jane to mirror her. Yet after relationship after relationship goes horribly wrong, this desire fades into a kind of apathetic unsureness to the point where this is what he says about his last "full" family, the Harley-Claires:

He's been making good headway on his quest for the mysterious island in the pacific. Once everything is taken care of here, he'll leave this family behind and set up shop on that island permanently. That's when the real work begins. The discoveries on that island will finally unite him with the destiny he's been in search of his whole life.

Two things of note. One, his first recorded instance of permanently setting up jackshit anywhere is at first with SkaiaNet then at Hellmurder island. Both locations share that theme of "destiny" in common—notice how he considers SN divorced from Crockercorp because of his efforts and tries to make the place overall less HIC-controlled, but ultimately fails. And sure, he later achieves this kind of destiny by having his Sburb plan go "right" but before this not a single "plan" he established went correctly. Jake in either timeline isn't a guy who regularly makes plans for multiple efforts—they zero in on one goal that appears as part of their calling and makes it happen, damn it. To him, that's a success. Whether he "actually does" is up for interpretation.

See, HIC actually wanted the Beta kids to play the game. She'd been using the Beta session as a "testing" timeline, knowing which events and people to avoid and keep in mind so that she can play everything out exactly the way she wants it to. Part of the reason why Crockertier Jane was so firmly for marrying Jake and having children was because that had been HIC's idea of what Beta Jake's purpose was once he landed on a Meteor (after B!Jane). So he saw the "big picture" in a bigger way than quite literally anyone else, but it still isn't enough, at least not in the way he thought it might be at first.

Prior to his discoveries on the island, Jake has no idea this will result in some kids using the software he's unearthing, which will destroy all life on Earth. Nor does he have any idea that those kids will be using this same software to reboot the universe with different starting conditions, thus ending this "trial run" timeline for HIC, and giving her a fresh start. Exactly as she planned.

This implies there is some moment that Grandpa Harley realized that everything he was doing would end up playing into the HIC's hands anyway. This also implies that he carried out those actions regardless, Hoping that Jade would someday win the game in the process. Are you seeing the parallel for my interpretation of Ult. Jake yet? Fuck.

What was the moment he realized? Did he power through anyway, hoping there was a bright light for Jade at the end of this all?

He's also a hoarder. He keeps items and objects instead of people. He hangs onto the past to the point where he's seemingly unable to let go of it—trophies, guns, artifacts—but throughout the entire Harley Manor there is not a single picture of his families. And that's where his dolls come in—dolls are just human enough but not too human, you can control them however you'd like yet delude yourself they are company. I'm not saying all doll-enjoyers are this way, but the specifics in which Grandpa (and Bro to an extent, for that matter) interacts with his dolls makes me believe he's turning them into pseudo-human entities because at the end of the day he again craves company. But, unlike Jake, Grandpa Harley's had a lifetime of experience reinforcing over and over again that this will never happen with a real person. And fuck, don't even get me started on the taxidermy—it's the very act of taking something, bereaving it of life and subjectivity, then keeping it for yourself. You can see how this has even affected Jade in the sense that she thinks about her taxidermied dead Grandpa (who she taxidermied himself, by the way) like a living, breathing person. And Jadebot? A robotic, perfect replica of his granddaughter, designed to monitor her at all times instead of him? And the parallels that has to Brobot. Ughghgh.

Also, quick digression. You know how Beta Dad & Mom were on the Battlefield? And how Grandpa landed just to recover Jade's dead dream body, then left Dad and Mom behind. Sorry, I'm just not normal about that at all. How did we collectively miss the sheer tragedy of that situation, God, I wonder what Roxy was thinking. Digression over.

All in all, what these files tell me is that the way Jake was written was no way accidental. Yeah he got fucked over in the Alpha session, yeah he's tragic, but he's tragic for a reason that I ultimately appreciate even as I clutch my heart and dramatically fall over from pain. He knows just enough about the meta-reality to cause feelings of absurdity but powers through it; he's supposed to be put in seemingly insurmountable situations and emerge, through one way or the other, victorious. He's supposed to have the strangest relationship known to man regarding other people and, as a result, try to find compromise between the two halves of "complete fuck-all isolation" and "the company of any developed adult human ever." He's goal-oriented only when it presents a clear-cut destiny to him, when he can see the significance of it, and otherwise floats around doing fuck-all in this world. This goal is, most of the time, people: Dirk for LE Jake, and Jade for Harley. It's also fun insight into where Jake could potentially end up going—as this post by Cooper already pointed out, Ult. Dirk's actions mirror Bro's need to micromanage and control everything in his life to the point where he, much alike Bro, secludes himself in an apartment while running his inner machinations unknown to most others. I wouldn't be surprised if Jake ends up in a similar way to Grandpa, giving his all to a dreary situation and maintaining Hope through it with the desire that it'll eventually succeed.

It would also be fun if his Hopes only came true after his death.

Alright, analysis over, everyone clock out. Good work, people. [Vaguely gestures to the reader.]

#tgtakes #jake english #grandpa harley #homestuck #ultimate jake #ask

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astelren · 2 years

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TWST Relationship HCs

ೃ⁀➷ TW/CW: Fluff, Gender Neutral Reader, I talk about couple fights a bit, Nothing too angsty tho, Silver and Sebek are there but nothing much, let me know if I need to add more TW/Tags ♡ Minors please interact with me only by liking or reblogs. ➳ Characters: Lilia Vanrouge

⤠ You give them a bouquet of flowers (Leona, Vil) ⤟ TWST Masterlist (soon!) ⤠ None ⤟

@/blackstrawberrynightmare requested: Alright, then can i request some relationship headcanons for Lilia X fem mc ? Sfw and nsfw too. Thanks a lot!

I'm not good at all writing sfw stuff aaaaa honestly this is so bad, I'm sorry... I swear I'm trying!! - This is a rewriting of my old work, originally posted on @/severnrsstuff (now severnr0ses) on 02/07/2020.

Oh god. Lilia as a boyfriend is just so chaotic. He will prank or scare you often, laughing at your reaction and then giving you candy and kisses as an apology, caressing your head while still chuckling a bit at you

Like an old lady you know- a mean old lady

He is that type o boyfriend that would randomly text you “come out to the window/balcony” or send you a photo of your window leaving you confused, and worried. perhaps. Lilia would do it especially if he notices that you were feeling a little bit down, and he will notice it anyway and pretty soon, just to cheer you up.

Maybe he comes to stay or to deliver something you like that he knows you will enjoy when your mood is down. Lilia is a very attentive boyfriend that deeply cares about you, so he is very careful about your moods and wishes, always ready to spoil you a little bit.

Maybe a little too much, but he doesn't mind. If you are smiling and happy, then Lilia is happy too

And while Lilia's hearing is insane (which helps him a lot I imagine), most of the time if you wish to keep things private he will, and act like he knows nothing. However, Lilia is pretty good at keeping secrets so if you want...

While he is a pretty chaotic boyfriend, always doing stuff for fun and often “forcing” to come/do it with him, Lilia is an actually calm and collected boyfriend who clearly loves you deeply.

He avoids fights, as in Lilia would simply talk out about stuff that has been bothering you or him with calm and ready to hear the other side, always calming the situation down if an escalation happens. Lilia is very open about his feelings and needs and expects the same from you two too, although he understands if you need time to do so or not being as open as him.

Random dates? But of course. Like I said before, he will randomly appear in your window, upside down and watching you like a madman just for the fun of it, giving you almost a heart attack, and taking you out on a date somewhere you either didn’t know but may like, or a place that you wished to go to for a while

How did he know? Lilia won't tell you. No matter how much you beg, cry or threaten him with the silent treatment, he won't tell you. He will simply laugh and kiss you, changing the topic.

You two often have gaming nights, but Lilia will force you to sleep after midnight saying you need to rest and isn’t healthy to stay awake all night to play. If you are more than a night owl he will let you stay awake for a little bit, but then he will force you to sleep anyway lmao.

Don't ask why you have to sleep he doesn't, he will make you feel like an infant without problems. And it isn't even something new, a lot of times he will come out with classic dad jokes or say stuff like "oh to be youth" and "my dear I fear I might be too old for that" i hate him plsdkjnl

He likes to hold your hand when in public, but will get much worse if Silver and Sebek are around and he will act even more lovely dovey. The most classic and clichè stuff, just to see them either scoffing or being embarrassed. And Lilia doesn’t often to that much public affection, stuff like handholding and kisses on the cheek are fine, but from him don’t expect too much

Every now and then he will kiss you, but Lilia seems a much more private person who enjoys going out of the scheme a few times just for the fun of it. And to see your reaction, obviously.

If you are the type of being very affectionate, being public or private, he doesn’t mind it at all. In fact, I would say that Lilia even enjoys it, holding you closer so that you will be focused only on him

Lilia is much more affectionate in private; giving you endless kisses, making out constantly, caressing your whole body with such a soft touch, stuff like this. In his room or house, you two are basically attached to one another as Lilia won’t let you go so easily

Especially after waking up, he likes to stay a little bit with you in his arms, sleeping or not, cuddling and kissing your temple before getting up to start a new day. Wake up faster because Lilia is definitely gonna make some breakfast-

This work belongs to @/astelren, do not repost, translate, copy, rewrite or share on tiktok without my permission. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged♡

#twst x reader #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge fluff #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland fluff #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst lilia vanrouge x reader #twst lilia x reader #twisted wonderland lilia x reader #twst lilia fluff #🌹 ── my.writing #🌹 ─ twst.writing

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kalims · 1 year

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rating my moots,

cause why not?!

note that I didn't add everyone since I felt too shy to tag em aksbsnna

1. @kalimsstan

9/10 because I've never had a fan account before, the interview was very fun and I cackled when I saw the AMOUNT OF TAGS USED WHEN I CHANGED MY THEME AJSBSJ

2. @ravenlking

9/10!! guys meet my editor in quotev. raven is very patient and fun to talk to ☺ its always a great time where we manage to strike a conversation together

3. @not-idia-shroud

10/10. ah yes, rain. remember when we literally never chat at the same time in discord? BYE I BE WAITING FOR A RESPONSE AND WHEN I GET IT ITS THE NEXT DAY

4. @v-anrouge

8/10. because we actually haven't interacted much and we mooted when I saw that they follow me and I followed them in turn cause they seem like a cool person!

5. @twistedlotus

7/10. IDK WHEN THIS HAPPENED HLP UMMM... HI ELARIA U HAVE A NICE NAME??? 😭

6. @a-hollow-angel

10/10. I swear they work a full time job liking all my posts 😩 like I fr post once then I get a notification immediately.. it doesn't matter when it happens,, THEY JUST DO JT

7. @merotwst

11/10!! ellie da best and I've known her for like.. LESS THAN A MONTH?? A MONTH?? MORE THAN A MONTH?!?!? idk man basta. she had big lady balls if steel (which she said somewhere in discord I just don't remember the specifics)

8. @myujis

10/10. vivi i miss u 🥺😭.. anyways yh I actually got confused on who myuji was then I saw it was vivi and went: OHH

9. @akiville3

12/10 MISOOOOOOO HIIIIIIII <333333 NEED I SAY MORE?!

10. @hytyyto

8/10. HEYOOO I barely do talk with yall and am sorry but I'm very busy.. 😭 PLS TALK TO ME IF UCAN I WILL TALK WIT U <3

11. @yuistan

8/10. not as close as well but I will spoonfeed my moots a handful of chicken soup you know.. unless other soup if you don't like chicken 😚

12. @spadecentral

9/10. very nice, sends me sweet stuff 🥺 ngl highkey keeps confusing myself who ellie and eli is.. 😭

13. @malleusball

10/10 one of my longest moots ever! we go WAYYY BACK even in the most atrocious times I don't want to remember <3

14. @kerosenesin

10/10. I THINK U IS DUST?? LEONALOVER69???pls I double checked if i mistook u as someone else again.. SAY LEONA IF UR THEM

15. @chenyann

10/10. yako i started panicking when I didn't see ur user on my following page but turns out I was just being blind. anywaysss ily

16. @twstwonderlandstuff

8/10. AYEEE ANOTHER FELLOW WRITER! on a side note, when a blog I like follows me you know I'm following back ASAP, destroying the screen type shit

17. @zgvlt

13/10. IDK WHY BUT NATHYA IS JUST 13 POINTS. I love her works sm as well as the graphic designs of her posts!! it's so aesthetically pleasing to me eyes I'm cryin (the one follow I could NOT GET OVER FOR DAYS)

18. @riddlesimp

8/10. ANGELLLL HALLOOO we haven't talked much despite us being moots for a long time ong 😭😭 angel is very sweet and apparently my daughter in law

19. @zeina-is-bored

2/10 (/J) MINUS SIX BECAUSE YOU DIDNT INVITE ME TO THR WEDDING. ☹☹☹😞😞😞😞😭😭😭😭😭😭

20. @rggie

11/10. if there's someone other than nathya with amazing graphics it's definitely mal. I can see the effort put into her theme!! gods I swear all of her blog is all connected to one theme and I love it!! IS U OK THO BABES??

21. @arent-i-the-fairest

8/10. cutieee!! love the works, I love me a bunch of neige works I can binge read <3 every1 should appreciate the rsa writers I swear

22. @achy-boo

1/10 (/j) I swear the friendship we have is so chaotic, WEVE INSULTED EACH OTHER MQNY TIMES AND CALLED EACH OTHER BITCHES QKSHKAKQ

23. @dicetheroll

8/10. see you soon dice! good luck on your finals.. when i first followed dice i immediately ran straight to the OM!works once I saw they wrote. It was AMAZING

24. @scara-lovebot

9/10. you are the one that shaped our minion coochie gc theme <3 my most prominent memory of you was the minion tampons era

25. @jabberwockk

8/10. chris :o was the one that answered me patiently when my dumbass didn't go to google for a fat answer when I asked for the birthdays of the characters.. we had a crisis about being broke together

26. @soldmygenderforglitter

9/10. I MISS U BAEEEEEE.. ilysm for talking to me in dms in tumblr for nearly everyday! I'm so sorry bout the late replies sometimes t-t I hope ur doing well babes

27. @celiapoststuff

10/10. MY CHILDSDDDDDDDDDD who adopted ME instead of the other way around lololol. love ya celia and your like for xiao and kalpas

28. @dr3amscap3

3/10 omg we haven't talked so long bt I GIVE U A 3 (JOKINGLY) BECAUSE U STARTED THE RICKROLL ROSA CHAIN AND NOW I CANT GET AWAY FROM RICK ASTLEY AND THE RICKROLLS 😭😭😭

29. @ravynous

1921739/10. THE BEST PERSON I SWEAR. RAVY ILYSMMMN <333 ur always there for me and so supportive.. how are you doing bae 😭💞 I hope ur kicking finals ass instead of the other way around

30. @raix-lv

1038171/10 REMEMBER WHEN WE MET THROUGH THE NEIGR ARTICLE JEEZ THAT WAS SO CHAOTIC. anyways, I can definitely say rai is one of my closest moots. GIRL WHERE HAVE U BEEN

31. @hxnarii

192911/10 we became moots after my vent post I think?? I thought u were really nice & kind so I followed u. GODS I DONT EVER REGRET MEETING UR RANDOM BRAIN (also ty for the pjsekai acc yknow yknow <3)

32. @nanamisflowerfield

11/10. OK LISTEN WE BARELT TALKED. the last thing I remember is the manhwa reccs but nanami is so sweet I swear YOU CAN SEE IT ON HER BLOG ITSELF SHES SO NICE

33. @honey-milk-depresso

192719/10 MY FIRST EVER MOOT AND YES I REMEMBER. I've seen honey around when I was writing for genshin her comments were so sweet! even though she keeps denying her love for the three men I still love her <3 mwa

34. @cynthinesia

9/10. I had to edit to add u SRYYYY UHMMM WERE U THE CATER PISS BOTTLE SOMETHING PERSON

35. @cupids-chamber

-12028/10 JOKES ON YOU IT ISNT BEST FOR LAST 👿 you never forget to remind me of the rickrolls (aka bane of my existence) THR AMOUNT OF CHAOS IN UR SERVER I SWEAR. DONT THIK I FORGOT THE TIME WHERE I JOINED ONE OF UR SERVERS AND IMMEDIATELY GOT RICKROLLED NOT EVEN 5 SECS IN

THERES MORE BUT NABSKA

gods did I have that much moots

#★ — rating my moots #★ — chats

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jessenitrogen · 1 year

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TEMP PINNED POST

GENERAL INFO

I go by Jesse/Jess, GigachadCrabDad (honorary title given to me by a close friend that's actually much longer but this is the most memorable part of it)

19, (in order of preference) he/him, she/her, they/them. aroace, figuring out my gender label rn

I draw just about anything I feel like drawing, atm Transformers and TF Ocs!! (if.. you wanna check em out: Toyhou.se Folder)

My account is SFW, may swear and maybe make dirty jokes but that's it

DNI

The basic DNI stuff. Don't interact with me if you're gross and/or an asshole. Gross and asshole in the scum of the earth way. I'll block anyone I'm not comfortable with.

ASKS + REQUESTS/OPEN(please read)

I love getting asks!! can be abt anything, my ocs, questions abt my continuity, random stuff, you could talk abt transformer stuff too!! (I know mainly TFP, and Earthspark) I might draw my response to it as well

For requests, this will be updated whenever it needs to be. ATM only really looking at Bulkjack requests, or anything that's funny

Keep asks SFW please, maybe slightly suggestive but thats it. forgive me if I take a while, I like drawing out my responses!!

TAG DIRECTORY

#jnart - My art tag. My blog is reblog heavy and searching stuff on a blog is not the most reliable I think so if you just want to see my art, use this tag to look for it all on tumblr

#jntfocs/#jnocs - My tf oc tag and oc tag. posts abt my sillies will be under those

#important - I tag stuff with this on posts spreading awareness and sources to help others

#tf breaking point - stuff related to my tf ocs story in my continuity

#tf broken mythos - stuff related to my retelling of the primes in my continuity

ARTFIGHT

PARTICIPATING IN ARTFIGHT THIS YEAR! I'm gonna be drawing so many tf oc goobers: https://artfight.net/~JesseCarbon

And that's abt it, I'll add more or adjust it when I need to

#pinned post

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ashes-writing · 2 years

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wild one pt two | stranger things ; g.emerson

tag list babes || req rules + fandoms/characters || got a req or a ? || masterlist

CHAPTERS ;

one can be found by clicking. masterlist of other ST things can be found here.

AUTHORS NOTES;

Okay so look.. We're not talking about how I went veering into badgirl!popular/cheerleader territory with reader. We're not, lmao. I'm also still not ignoring my thousand other wips, I swear. This just came to me and I thought what the hell, why not. So, here we are.

You guys literally made my morning, you have no idea. All the comments / reblogs + reblogs with tags / the likes, you name it. I really didn't think about anything outside of getting this idea out of my head and you guys blew me away, ughhhh. I love you all so fucking much and you truly don't know what your interactions with my bullshit mean to me, I can't even begin to express it. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

SUMMARY;

-- cheerleaders and drummers don't mix. Or do they?

aka, you're a cheerleader. not your typical one, but the fact remains. he's a drummer, one of the freaks. and yet somehow, you keep circling back to each other. how's this gonna go, I wonder?

PAIRING;

Gareth Emerson x Cheerleader/Popular!Bad Girl reader.

{ beyond clothing descriptions and the knowledge that reader has female organs + the personality stuff I can't stop adding in, reader is mostly a blank slate. have fun with it. }

WARNINGS;

jason carver + his friends existing, body image / self esteem issues, angst, swearing, bullying / teenagers being shitheads within their own circle of friends, a bra is mentioned, holy shit reader and Gare are awkward angsty little stubborn shits and i live for it, for this chapter, that's it.

TAGLIST;

The only people on my taglist for Stranger Things currently are listed below. If you’d like to be and you aren’t, please go add yourself via the link at the very top of the post.

@ALLELITESMUT

@AURUMBELIS

@ARIES-ARCADE

@COLE22ANN

@HCLOANGCLS

@HEYAITSKLAUDIA

@ICEQUEEN1371

@KRYS-ORION

@LETSBEDRAGONSTOGETHER

@MUSICHEALSSCARS

@scoobiessnacks

@secretsicanthideanymore

@SUITS-AND-SMIRKS

OTHER STUFF;

Okay, first of all, this is just another slice of life type thing.. and also, look.. loook.. so my undying need to give Billy growth of some kind won out here. I mention that Susan threw Neil out. And I'm going off that to further say that maybe Billy stuck around a while, graduated and then got the hell out of town. BUT.. before he did, he kind of had time and space away from Neil's influence to realize that maybe he was becoming his father and he didn't want to be. He's still gonna seem to be an asshole, but just.. slightly less / more accepting of people. Since the Upside Down / Vecna and the other stuff that traumatizes every single one of these poor kids doesn't exist in most of my writings, Starcourt still exists, Jim and Joyce took the fam to California to celebrate their wedding or something and are back and naturally, nobody will be dying in this. JSYK more importantly, Gareth and Jeff have been aged to 18 so that the gang will all graduate together. Nobody is underage (except the actual kiddos but this is more about Gareth/reader with a side of Max) so we're all good.

“What are we even doing here?” Gareth grumbles as the four of them make their way over from where they’d parked in front of the diner to the park where the Fourth of July carnival was in full swing. The deafening sound of Motley Crue nearby and screeching brakes had the four friends sharing a look and glancing in the general direction of the sound.

You’re swearing up a storm and pulling at the handle on your door but the damn thing is stuck again. Emma’s already gotten out and she’s using the mirror on the passenger side to primp as Max and Lucas attempt to help you unstick your door. “I keep telling her Lucas, this car is literally Christine. Remember last week when it just quit and we all had to walk in the rain?”

“Hey, maybe if you try to wiggle the handle when you pull…” Lucas suggests. You try but it’s not budging.

“Jesus christ, just go out the window, trouble! Patrick is waiting!” Emma’s impatient, practically bouncing on her feet and ready to get her date started. You glance over at her and laugh. “Oh my godddd, go then, Em! Don’t keep your guy waiting or whatever cos this car is a demon straight from the pits of hell tonight!” you’re waving her off.

Eddie chuckles and rubs his chin. “That car’s possessed.” he muses.

Grant snickers quietly, “Her temper kind of reminds me of someone else’s…” and as he says this, his eyes fix on Gareth.

“Wasn’t she walking away from it while flipping it the bird that day it rained last week?” Jeff chuckles and shakes his head. Eddie laughs and nods. “Mhm.”

Inside the car, Max is torn between laughter and concern. “Okay, look. The windows are down. Just climb out. Before you break your hand.” she grimaces as you hit the door one more time and try to yank the handle a little more. "Stupid fucking piece of shit, oh my god, c'mon!" you grumble in frustration as you pinch the bridge of your nose and blow at falling hair “I’m gonna push this motherfucker over the quarry, I swear to God. It’s coming, ugh. C’mon you piece of shit! Open!” you proclaim, pulling harder on the handle, beyond agitated now.

Emma’s gone ahead already and the second you see Andy glancing your way, you groan inwardly. Not today, Satan.” you grumble as you hoist yourself up and climb out the window of the car. Lucas does the same over on the passenger side, pulling Max out after he’s steady.

And just like clockwork, Andy’s clearing his throat when you finish giving your hair a tousle and checking your pockets to make sure you have everything you need so you don’t have to walk back over from the carnival.

“Hey.” Andy’s eyes roam over you slowly. Almost lingering long enough to be lewd when they settle on your tits and it’s to a point where you clear your throat while rolling your eyes just to get him looking up at your actual face. Everything about the way he’s looking at you makes you really uncomfortable, but true to form, Andy doesn’t seem to pick up on it. If he does, he doesn’t care because like the rest of the jocks at Hawkins High, he’s used to getting exactly what he wants.

“Bye.” you retort, biting your lip. “As you can see, ape,the problem is solved. There’s uh, nothing to see here, no sense in hanging around.” you’re trying to get rid of him but he doesn’t seem willing to get the hint. Thank God for Max and Lucas, because they wander over and clear their throats. You use their appearance to your advantage and hurry away. “Gotta go, uh.. We’re going to the midway or something.” and you grab hold of your stepsister’s elbow, the two of you hauling ass away in such a hurry that the three of you wind up colliding with the four members of Corroded Coffin. More to the point, you wind up colliding with Gareth and the two of you topple over. You raise up, straddling his hips and you can feel yourself turning red and hot all over. Gareth realizes that his hands are on your hips and flustered, he moves them off real quick.

“Uh..” your hand catches in your hair as you extract yourself from his body reluctantly, “Sorry.”

Gareth looks like he’s glaring at you and all you can think is that this is just awesome, just great. Now you can add nearly crushing the poor guy with your body right to the bottom of the list under covering him in cake flavored vomit back in seventh grade.

Jeff clears his throat and gives Gareth a look to clue him into the fact that his facial expression is maybe not the best choice for the current situation and Gareth wants to die right then and there because he realizes that he’s scowling at you. You hold out a hand to Gareth to attempt pulling him up and he honestly wants to grab hold of your hand but that stubborn need to not look like a little bitch and pull himself up off the ground wins out and he pulls himself up and as soon as he realizes what he’s done -and what you possibly think now because of it, he wants to punch himself in the face for it.

You linger for a second or two. “You’re uh… I didn’t hurt you, right?” you ask quietly, swallowing hard as you look him over in concern. Trying not to focus too hard on his eyes and how angry he looks or how embarrassed you are, or how up close, his lips look even more tempting somehow.

But you’re assuming that you’ve blown it all over again and given that your father and stepmother live in a trailer park, the option to buy a deserted island and live out your dying days is not available to you. ,, Guess it’s back to avoiding him at all costs.” the thought comes and it makes you frown just slightly. Sadly. You plaster on a weak smile as soon as you feel it form though, and you take a deep breath to pull yourself together. “Sorry. I’m.. Gonna go now. Yeah..” you hurry away before he even manages to get one single word out.

And as you disappear into the crowd on the midway with Lucas and Max flanking either side of you, Gareth turns and immediately kicks the nearest garbage bin to him as he swears out loud about the whole mess that just turned into.

Eddie would’ve laughed, but he could look at his best friend and just tell that Gareth was torn up real bad about the way that all just transpired, so when Jeff is about to open his mouth, he nudges him and shakes his head no quietly. Jeff nods in agreement and Grant leans in, whispering to the two of them, “He really shook her up. That’s the first time I’ve seen her actually get flustered since at least 6th grade.”

“Yeah, he won’t believe that, buddy. Still thinks the whole reason she vomited all over him that one night was because she wound up getting sent to the closet with him on the spin.” Jeff explains calmly. Eddie snickers quietly, “Y’know how he is, man.”

“Yeah, and sometimes, it doesn’t do him any favors.” Jeff responds with Grant nodding in agreement. “Agreed.”

You’re standing in line for the Gravitron when you spot Gareth walking past, your neighbor Eddie and their other two friends Grant and Jeff in tow. You quickly face the front and you bump against Max as you do it. She snickers quietly. “Are you okay? You were really flustered back there.”

“Oh, I’m fine. It’s fine, everything is fine. I was just born to a father too fuckin poor to buy me a private island to go die on, that’s all.” you laugh, gazing at the ride as it spins while twisting some messy strands of hair around your finger. “Guess it’s back to avoid at all costs.”

Max laughs and shrugs. “Or.. you could just ya know… Play the whole thing off.”

Lucas chuckles quietly. “He wasn’t mad. Gareth’s just got an angry face sometimes. He doesn’t even realize when he’s doing it.”

“Oh trust me. He looked mad. If he wasn’t, he was probably annoyed because my fat ass was probably crushing him or something.”

Lucas almost tells you that he’s at least fifty percent sure that’s not the case, but he knows how stubborn you are by now. So instead, when he catches sight of Will,Mike and Eleven, with Dustin in tow, he waves them over.

“Guys, this is ____.”

“Call her trouble though. Everybody else does.” Max smiles at her friends, “She’s my new stepsister.”

You smile at the group of teenagers and laugh. “I don’t bite.”

Will gives you a weak smile and nods. “Hey.”

Mike’s gaping at Max. “Isn’t she a cheerleader?” he questions, wary and tense as he gazes over at you when you’ve turned your attention back to the ride you’re all in line for. “Why isn’t she with her friends right now?” he’s only asking because he’s worried, because he’s not even an official freshman yet and already, the taunts and the teasing and the bullshit from the jocks have started towards him, his best friends Will and Dustin and his girlfriend Eleven.

Max rolls her eyes at Mike. “Would you relax? She hates them. I mean, except for Emma. Maybe that girl Chrissy Cunningham.”

“Hey. I’m Dustin Henderson.” Dustin smiles at you and you smile back. “I think I babysat you a few years ago, kid.” Dustin laughs and nods. “Wait, yeah. I remember now. The blanket fort.” and you grin, giving him a thumbs up.

Eleven smiles at you. “It’s nice to meet you. Max talked about you a lot when she called or wrote this summer.”

You smile back at the other girl and nod. “She talked about you nonstop. How was California? I bet it was fun, right?”

“It wasn’t too bad. I think Jim was ready to get back here, he said he’d gotten enough sand in places it shouldn’t be for the rest of his life.” Eleven laughs and you smile at her, nodding. “Yeah, my dad took me to this big race day or something when I was little. Kinda hated the beach because of all the sand.” you shrug.

The line inches forward and you find yourself getting pulled into the conversation happening between Max and her friends.

And then you spot Caroline and some of the other cheerleaders wandering down the midway. “Fucking hell. It’s too early in the night for them. C’mon ground, open up a portal? I’ll even take one to hell right now…” you rub the bridge of your nose. Luckily, Max has just enough friends that with all of them standing around you, Caroline and the two other girls flanking her walk right past without even noticing you.

“If you hate them so much, why not just quit?” Mike’s gazing at you, curious.

“Because quitting means they win, kid. Quitting proves that they’re all right about me and I am trash. I’m too petty.” you explain, giving a shrug.

The ride’s ready to board and you step on. Seeing one or two others do it, you get curious.

“Don’t think about it.” Max hisses.

“Oh come on!” you grin as you do a handstand and press yourself back against the wall, “Gravity will hold me up.”

“Okay, well.. When you puke everywhere, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Max gives a mild shrug as she and Lucas take the two spots next to you.

Across the ride, Eleven mouths to Max, “Is she crazy?” and all Max can do is shrug because sometimes, she does wonder.

The ride comes to an end and you stumble off and right into Emma, who is cozied up to Patrick and carrying the biggest stuffed panther you’ve ever seen before. You pout a little, but you smile at Patrick. “Hurt her and I’m coming for your knees, dude.”

Patrick chuckles. And spotting Lucas as he exits the ride, he grins and makes his way over. “Worked on that jumpshot yet, kid?”

Lucas nods.

Max nudges you and nods to the cotton candy stand across the midway, laughing when you freeze because Gareth and his friends are sitting at a picnic table eating nachos. “I feel like cotton candy. C’mon.”

“Oh no. Nope. Not a chance. I’ll give you the money and let you go, though.”

Max grabs hold of your arm and she’s practically dragging you towards the vendor. You’re laughing but also as you pass the table Gareth is sitting at, you’re painfully aware that he’s sitting there.

And despite trying your best not to, you glance back because you hear him laugh about something and it catches your attention.

“Ya know, it’s not that hard to just make the first move. I did with Lucas.”

You laugh but the laughter dies away the second you realize she’s being serious. You shake your head. “Oh no. Nope. Absolutely not. Every single time I try to even breathe near the guy, I go and fuck up, do something stupid.”

Max laughs quietly. “Y’know… when my mom met your dad I was scared. Because Neil and Billy, they..” she rubs her forehead and you nod because you know where she’s going. “Yeah. I know.” you mumble quietly. “How was he when you talked to him last time?” you ask quietly.

“Happy to be back in California. Relieved to be away from Neil too. He’s happier, it’s like he’s a total different person. He said he thought about coming to visit around Thanksgiving and he actually talked to my mom for two hours.” Max admits, managing a weak smile. “Maybe Mom throwing Neil out gave him the courage to do it too.”

“Maybe it did.” you answer, smiling.

Max speaks up after a quick glance around reveals that Gareth was staring right at you and turned away only after he realizes that she’d caught him doing it. “Ooh.” Max laughs as she leans into you a little, “he was looking at you.”

You laugh and shake your head. “Nice try, Max. It’s not happening.” you sigh a little, glancing back but so quick you could’ve easily given yourself whiplash when you turn your head to look back at the stall you stand in front of instead. “Nope. I honestly think he hates me. I mean, to be fair, I can’t blame the guy. First I barf on him then I go and try to crush him.”

Max raises a brow. “You? Crush him? You realize he’s brawnier and a little taller than you, right? I doubt you crushed him.”

You shrug. Because all you ever hear from the coach of your squad and Caroline is that you’re too thick, you need to cut back. This and that and if you were even slightly less confident in your body like some girls your age, you’re pretty sure it would live in your head rent free. And sometimes, on a bad day, it does. But you try not to let it get to you.

Caroline spots you and she gives you a disappointed look because of where you happen to be standing when she wanders up to you. “I thought you were cutting out sugar?” she nods to the cotton candy stand.

“I never said I would… Mother.” you roll your eyes and take a big bite of the cotton candy as soon as the vendor inside the stall hands it to you. Caroline’s eyes settle on your Motley Crue t-shirt and your cut offs and the black motorcycle boots and she wrinkles her nose. “We have got to take you shopping at Starcourt soon. Can’t have you roaming the hallway like some grungy little whore when school starts back again.”

Max tenses and glares up at the older girl. Every part of her wants to say something but she doesn’t because she knows you well enough to know that you won’t hesitate to handle it.

You’re doing the same and you smirk. “Ya know… Maybe I prefer the grungy whore look. Maybe that’s just me.”

Caroline snorts in annoyance. Steps closer and smirks. “You do realize if you weren’t so flexible and so good at most of the stunts, you’d have already been off the team, right? You’re an image problem. Your skills and Chrissy, bless her sweet heart.. They’re the only things holding you at the top.”

“Oh really now.” you purr, stepping closer, smirking as you laugh softly. “Sweetheart.. What the hell makes you think I give a shit to start with, hm? The only reason I haven’t quit is Em and Chris. I promised them I wouldn’t quit way back in 9th grade. Sides,” you laugh and twirl hair around your finger as you glare at her calmly, “I like making the rest of you miserable bitches squirm.”

“Are you ready to go, Max?” you ask your stepsister as you shove past Caroline and you do it hard enough she stumbles back a little and you storm away.

Max is laughing and the two of you high-five as you stop within earshot of the table that Gareth and his friends happen to be sitting at. “I swear to God, Max..One day she’s gonna catch me in the wrong mood and I’m going to strangle her bare-handed.” you’re fuming a little as you glare at Caroline’s turned back. Max nods. “Her sister is just as bad. Maybe worse. She was trying to pick on Eleven at the roller rink last year.”

“Yeah, let her try that shit, any of them, truth be told. Let any of them try that shit when you guys are around me. They can honestly all go fuck themselves.” you grumble and take a few deep breaths as you toss the empty paper roll that held your cotton candy into the garbage. “C’mon. Let’s go back over. See what everyone else is doing, huh?”

Max nods and the two of you walk away.

Gareth glares at Caroline Owens turned back. Rolling his eyes. “Miserable bitch. She’s on somebody’s case about anything when her nose looks like an actual bird beak?” he’s ranting, he’s irritated by it and he’s not bothering to hide it. Eddie snickers and Jeff nudges Eddie. “I told you he still liked her, man.”

Gareth glares at the two of them. “I don’t. It’s just fucking stupid.”

“Mhm. And what was that two minute rant just now, Emerson?” Grant questions as he finishes off the nachos he’d gotten himself.

Gareth shrugs, goes quiet. “Nothing. It just pisses me the fuck off.”

“Mhm, right.” Jeff teases, but it’s gentler. Because he’s still remembering their talk out in Gareth’s garage earlier that afternoon. The one where he admitted that maybe he still liked her but then he immediately went on to list off every single reason why that wasn’t a good idea. And Jeff knows that right now, there’s a lot going on in his best friend’s head.

You make your way down the midway with Max and her friends because they’ve decided to tag along with her and Lucas and as soon as you spot Andy and Jason, you grumble. You give Chrissy a sweet smile and wave. And as the three of them wander over, you grumble under your breath even more about Andy and Jason.

It’s Lucas’ idea to just get in line for the bumper cars since that line is the shortest. So you all get in line for it and somehow, this doesn’t deter Andy or Jason from wandering over.

“Given any thought to what I suggested this afternoon?” Jason’s flashing that megawatt grin. Chrissy mouths an apology to you and speaks up quietly. “If she doesn’t like Andy, she doesn’t like him, Jason…”

“Sweetheart, I’m just trying to help my buddy. Andy really likes her.”

“But she doesn’t like him. Kind of feels like you’re forcing things.”

“I’m not, princess.” Jason says it so smoothly. You watch Chrissy swallow hard, swallow down whatever she was about to say with just the slightest hint of fear and worry in her eyes. You gaze at her a second or two, concerned.

You nudge Max. “If a guy ever treats you like that asshole treats her, run. He’s so controlling. She wanted to come stay last weekend, right? He tells her mother exactly where I live and that Wes has been to jail for an assault charge from an old bar fight and naturally, she couldn’t.”

Max glares at Jason. “Doesn’t surprise me. Not at all.” she mumbles, mostly to herself. She can’t stand him because she can see right through him. So could Billy. That’s why before he left for California last year, he warned Lucas about him. After apologizing for the way he’d treated him, which came as a huge shock to her when he’d done it. She’s almost praying her former step brother comes to visit for the holidays because she’d love to see Billy get his hands on Jason.

Andy’s eyeing you up. You shrink back just a little. Roll your eyes. “My eyes are up here, dirtbag.” you grumble calmly, Andy not even bothering to hide the fact that he was staring at your tits yet again. He chuckles. “I know, darlin. I just can’t–” you shake your head and smirk. “If I were you, I wouldn’t finish that sentence, pig. The answer is still no. Until the day you see Satan himself passing out Icees in hell, that’s gonna be the answer. I mean this, Andy,” you twirl some hair around your finger as you tilt your head to look up at the taller boy, “If you and I were the last hope at repopulating Earth, I’d fling myself right off the face of it. You’re a disgusting perverted asshole.”

“So bitchy.” Andy shakes his head. “You’ll be sorry you said that, darlin.”

You scoff at his warning. “Yeah, no. No I won’t, actually. If you came over here to try and guilt me into double dating, the answer is no. Get Em and Patrick to do it. I’m here with my family, okay? That’s more important, asshole.”

Max smiles just the slightest when you’re not looking to see it.

“And as her stepsister, I don’t want you around me. Got it?” Max speaks up, calm and quiet. Andy scoffs at her, rolling his eyes, “Oh yeah? Well what if your opinion doesn't count, kid?”

“Counts one hell of a lot more than anything you have to say, Andy. You can go now. Buh-bye.” you give him a dismissive little wave.

“You guys stay away from him and his friends, alright? Jason’s going to poison them all and they’re nothing but bullies.” you say it and Max nods. “You don’t have to tell me twice. It worries me that Lucas is on their team and he’s around it.”

You sigh and nod. Glancing over at her boyfriend as Jason wanders over to chat him up and you’ve seen the way it makes his friends scatter. “If he starts to change, do what’s best for yourself.” you fluff her hair. “C’mon. Let’s go collect your date and go find his actual friends and find somewhere to sit for the fireworks.”

“Hey, did Mom say if she was coming by after work with Wes?” Max asks. You shrug. “Wes said he wanted to meet us up here, something about watching fireworks with his girls is definitely better than getting wasted like he used to.” you admit, laughing softly. “Your mom’s really turned my big scary biker dad into a huge teddy bear. I kinda love her for that.” you admit, slipping an arm around Max.

You and Max wander over and you clear your throat. “C’mon kid. We need to find a place to sit for the fireworks. Thought you two might want to find your friends and sit with them too.” you smirk calmly at Jason as you say it, arms crossed over your bare midriff.

“We’ll see you at the gym tomorrow, buddy. We’ll work on that jump shot again. You’re gettin real good.” Jason says it so smoothly, with such a charmers grin too. Lucas grins back. “Okay, see you then.”

As you’re walking off, Max elbows him. “Hey! You know tomorrow is Saturday. You know that’s DnD night, Lucas.”

“And I can do both. Relax, baby. I know. I didn’t forget, okay?”

Max glances at you and sighs, shrugging. But she nods and manages a smile.

You find a spot in the grass and sprawl out, rising up when Emma wanders over with Patrick. You laugh and nod to Emma’s leg. “I’m borrowing your girlfriend’s thigh. I need a pillow, the ground’s hard, man.” Patrick snickers and gives you a thumbs up. “Go ahead, you’re good. You were her friend first.”

“Smart answer, buddy. Real smart answer.” you grin at him. You lean in to Emma and mumble quietly, “Caroline started her bitching earlier.”

“You too, huh? You should’ve heard Patrick when she came at me for eating that deep friend jalapeno. He told her to mind her own damn business, basically.”

You glance from Patrick to Emma and you giggle quietly. “So how’s it feel to live the dream, hm?”

“You could too, y’know.” Emma glances at you and then off into the crowd a little closer to the front and you glance in the direction to find Gareth and his three best friends sitting or sprawled out on the grass and for just a minute, you catch yourself attempting to imagine it before quickly shoving the thought out of his head as you tear your eyes off and look back up at her.

You snort in laughter. “Right, Em. Look, we both know that’s not gonna happen. Besides,” you settle to lay your head in her lap, “Pretty sure if he didn’t hate me for barfing on him back then, he hates me for nearly crushing him tonight.”

Emma scoffs. “Bitch, where? Where are you saying you crushed him, huh? Because he’s not a beanpole for one and two, he’s actually taller.. Sturdier than you.”

You flip her off and shrug. “I hit him pretty damn hard though, that’s where. I’m not saying it about me, I’m saying it because I pretty much football tackled the poor guy…. It was when we were trying to escape fuckin Andy that first time.”

“Still! I doubt he hates you for an accidental crash, woman, jesus christ.” Emma argues.

“Woman, I’m telling you. He was glaring at me. Full on glaring.” you insist.

Emma laughs and shakes her head. Apparently, you haven’t realized that it’s just Gareth’s default facial expression most of the time and in no way does it indicate that he’s angry. Unless he’s yelling, in someone’s face about to shove or just calmly glaring with his fists clenched.

As Mayor Kline gives his long-winded speech about the importance of the holiday, you lounge on the ground, staring up at the stars. Nearby, you can hear Max and her friends talking back and forth and laughing. When you spot your father and Susan making their way in, you wave and nod to the spot in the grass between Max and her friends and you with yours.

Patrick clears his throat. “Either of you want anything? I’m gonna get a snowcone.”

“Please, babe?” Emma asks.

“Cherry coke. Tell ‘em not to skimp on the cherries, please?” you call out.

– ( after the carnival)

The knock on the door of the Munson trailer had the four best friends sharing a look. Eddie palms his face. “I fucking forgot to get my clothes out of Susan’s dryer. Goddamn it.” he grumbles to himself as he puts down his Monopoly piece and puts away his money. “No stealing, shitheads.” he’s calling out over his shoulder as he opens the trailer door.

You instantly regret your decision to just wander over without bothering with the formality of pants and in one of your longer t-shirts when you spot Gareth sitting on the living room floor inside Eddie’s trailer. “Your clothing, dude.” you hold up the taped and overfilled laundry basket. Eddie catches you watching Gareth as Gareth makes himself look at the game board in front of him.

“You can come in and say hi?” Eddie’s taunting remark draws you out of your own head. “Nah man.. Wrestling's on tonight. I was kind of in the middle of watching a real good match with Wes when the dryer went off. I uh..” you shuffle bare feet against the stoop and drag your hands through damp hair, “Better get back over there. Yep. Mhm.” you’re rambling and you want to die, but you do the next best thing instead. You bolt back across the street.

And it’s only when you’re back in the trailer that belongs to your father, Wes and Susan, your stepmom, that you realize somehow, your laundry must’ve gotten mixed in with Eddie’s because you’re trying to find your favorite leopard print bra, the one with the little snakes on it too, and you can’t find it anywhere.

“Just fuckin awesome. First I manage to tackle a guy I’m pretty sure I might have a crush on again and make him hate me, but now, my goofy neighbor Munson knows what one of my bras looks like. Fuck my life.” you groan out dramatically as you fall back against the bed.

And across the road, Eddie’s putting his clothes in his room when he spots it in the pile. He snickers to himself and yes, maybe to fluster Gareth just a little, he slingshots it in Gareth’s direction. “Something for you, buddy.”

“The fuck?” Gareth realizes what it is and his entire body reddens as he shifts the way he sits on the living room floor in front of the Monopoly board. “How the hell’d you get this?”

“Sometimes their shit gets mixed in with ours when I wash clothes.” Eddie shrugs.

Gareth turns the thin garment over in his hands but he’s smart enough to know that his friends are about to start the teasing at any second, so he tosses it back at Eddie. “Idiot.” he grumbles, rolling the dice so that he can take his turn.

Eddie snickers quietly. “Keep it, man.”

“Give it back to her, idiot. Do we really need a reason for those douchebags she’s probably friends with to come looking for us?” Gareth grumbles.

“You realize she kinda hates them, right? Literally Emma and Chrissy are the only people from that crowd she actually likes. Your girl is a loner, Emerson.” Jeff insists but he knows he's talking to a damn brick wall at this rate. Gareth's got his mind made up. And he's definitely wary.

“She’s not my girl.”

“But she could be.” Jeff suggests calmly, glancing across the table at his best friend. Gareth laughs and goes quiet. “Yeah, somehow I doubt that, I mean.. Thanks to my face doing it’s usual thing earlier, she probably thinks I hate her now anyway.”

“I doubt it, man.” Jeff and Grant insist in unison. Eddie just rubs his hand over his face and laughs. “You’re always calling me dramatic, who thinks a girl hates him just because his face does bitchy things on it’s own? Because it’s not me, Emerson. Ya know, the quickest way to clear it up is I dunno, actually talk to her.. Right?”

“Yeah, not happening. You saw her just now when she was at the door with your clothes. She didn’t even look over here. Like at all. It’s not a big deal anyway, school will start soon. She’ll wind up dating one of those assholes. I’ll even bet on it.” Gareth insists.

“Whatever you say, buddy.” Jeff just shrugs.

#gareth emerson #gareth the great #gareth emerson imagine #gareth emerson fanfiction #gareth emerson fanfic #gareth emerson x reader #gareth emerson x fem!reader

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