#please ignore my horrible grammar

[mikokiara]

Taco and mic have always been interesting to me i remember this certain post made by this person that atleast its name in discord is petra

And i respect it so much because the way it sees taco and mic relationship its just amazing and i have a huge admiration for it

So im just gonna start quoting this

"Do you ever think snakes regret being snakes?"

Absolutely

Obviously im not talking about literal snakes but more likely to taco

Do i think taco regrets being who she is right now? And my answer is yes, her regret is clear as the water itself

Taco had everything, an huge chance of winning, a 'friend' the viewers liking in her words she was made to win, for then everything crumble down making her show her true colors

And then. . .isolating herself in the forest for presumably two fucking years,two years without somebody, only herself alone in the woods,having to carry with regret and guilt of her own actions and then something happened

Maybe. . .a second chance?

-taco & mic's relationship and how important mic was for her

Now lets enter to their relationship and how mic had an slight impact to taco, let me explain

Taco and mic started not really good, taco saw mic as nothing more but a pawn somebody who had to be 'guided' but mic changes that vision of her rather quickly as she showed her manipulation skills thing that taco respected making her start to get more comfortable around taco, she didn't saw her as a pawn anymore she started to get along with her and even tried to cheer her up in her own strange way in short words she was slowly getting attached to her allowing herself to get comfortable around her and starting to slowly act more like actual partners

And then here comes, 'mine your own bussiness' now this episode was important for their relationship, 'why?' you may ask and its simple. This was the point where their relationship got stronger before the disaster

And its because mic's reaction to taco's past, she wasn't really concerned about her actual past or pickle situation, she was concerned for taco because she knows how much she regrets her actions, all thanks to the portal scene, she finally started to connect the dots, she started to understand the story and started being sympathetic with her she saw her as more, she didn't saw her only as some kind of greedy unredeemable person, she saw more in her she trusted her and taco

Taco saw that

And appreciated that because

No one did that to her in a long time, nobody standed up for her before in a long time, she for once after so long finally had somebody who apreciated her like mic did

Thing that makes mic leaving even sadder for her, because after so fricking long she had somebody by her side for then everything being thrown down the bride like nothing

Only one mistake

And that was what doomed everything

That clearly leave an impact on her

Mic leaving hurted her im pretty sure even more than pickle

Because mic got her, mic took the small time for understand her and her behavior and see through her rough shell (pun intended)

Somebody for first time after so long inside her life wasn't inmediatly pushed away by her real self

For then that person to go away leaving her alone isolated and hurt

-taco and her obsession with inanimate insanity + how the show fucked up her mental state

Now one of the parts i wanted to get in the most

for show how badly fucked up this woman mental health is

I had this thought for a long while that taco had this so called 'obsession' with the game, which is one of the reasons of her behavior

And i feel this obsession comes from the fact that she had and has nothing else, inanimate insanity became her entire life, inanimate insanity its the only thing she have left add that the fact that mic left

She has nothing to lose anymore, her only purpose is to win, that's the only way she feel she could get her happy ending, the ending that was never there for her, inanimate insanity now is her only chance, the only chance she got for fix her fucked up life and mental health, despite those ways clearly not being the solution

I might be overthinking this? Yes but if you think about it makes sense

After all, the show again is the only thing taco has left in her miserable life, she had been living in the woods for presumably 2 years

she already lost everything

She cant lost the only thing she has left

And if you think about it, the entire situation its really fucked up, inanimate insanity screwed up her mental health

Just like everybody, she suffered as much as any other contestants in this god forsaken show

This game has been ANYTHING but healthy for her

But there she is, still sticking to her plan hurting everybody including herself in the process for the only chance she probably has

And the situation becomes even worst if we consider the posibility that theres no prize

-possible 'retirement'

I really hope taco gets a redemption arc, this show hasn't been healthy for her and she really needs a rest from it but i feel this might also be hard

Taco is a pretty big sturborn and i dont think she'll be really wilding to listen to anyome at all EXCEPT for the only person that could possibly care about her

Dont get me wrong i would love see tacobulb interactions in ep 15 but it makes sense mic being the only one that taco will be wilding to listen to, because again, mic saw taco as more than some greedy unredeemable person, she thought she could change she gave her a chance

So it wouldn't be a surprise if she actually listens to the only one who gave her that chance, the one that didn't inmediatly pushed her away the one that means something for her the only one who listened to her

And that person is mic

Hopefully taco will finally leave the show for good because then again the show hasn't been good for her own mental healt, and she seriously needs to leave it if she really wants to become better

She needs to move on to the next stage, the stage she never could reach, she will have a chance for reach it

And even though im 99% she'll do one final mistake before finally move on, i hopr she can take that opportunity and finally have her happy ending because honestly she deserves a break

[hammill-goes-fogwalking]

The issues & beauties of German music

(70s Kraut Rock )

Here, NOT ONE SINGLE SOUL talks about Krautrock ��� it seems like dead & forgotten (except CAN)

which is sad about this phenomenon :/ the only ones paying attention are prog magazines and music connoisseurs

Everyone talks about the Scorpions and Rammstein (in fact it's quality). Sometimes Boney M but... it's always the same: good music is too elite for the masses.

Even the band Eloy. Prog fans love them- the most listeners come from other places of the earth but not their origin country. Often a fault of the music industry, critics as well as the radio stations which really neglected these now in modern times.

//

The rhymes & language, pronunciation

Sure, worse languages exist. But to be honest, can you relax, with the German language? There's no flow at all, nothing like Italian or, you know, English. It's a popular opinion and what speaks against it?

Depends on the way someone sings and per region there is a difference but some harshness is always there.

//

Sung in English example: Eloy (again)

Some people are totally fine with the accent (their whole discography is in English sung by Frank Bornemann!!) others have problems getting into this band. Depends on the listener.

What often happened was that the groups had a British singer...

//

Old fashioned names

For example British rock: someone asks you, you say your idol is some random Jeff or Pete or whatever their names are. What about German musician's names? They're called Dieter or Jogi or Herbert or Udo

"Who's your favourite musician?" - Jürgen xy (sorry shouldn't sound mean)

People make jokes about old fashioned names, then why blaming yourself and getting sideeyed.

This is all a matter of coolness, let's move to the music...

//

A few information

Okay don't judge (seems extremely stereotype now) the people, musicians of the 60s and 70s were the first generation after WW2. You can imagine. The children of ex- patriots. They wanted to change something. BUT!! They were BOUND in the roots of their country.

There was a scene and later with many students and discotheques. There were artists from all over the world. The music is innovative and you can hear it even clearly. You can also hear their protest, spirit and the diversity of sounds.

There is nothing you can call THE Kraut. It's practically impossible to sum the sound up. Actually it's not a genre. That one word represents all the music made in Germany

//

An example.

You hear the instruments? The bass, drums, hard guitar, organs, saxophone EVERYTHING WORKS. SO FINE MUSIC.

Listen to it, create your own opinion.

Notes

1. So many songs by this one group called Lied des Teufels? Yeah. They're not known at all. That singer sounds like imitating Ian Gillan- Everyone can TRY to copy but they do it in their own style which is not copying, it's storytelling. (Kind of)

2. THE WHOLE THING SHOULD NOT MAKE ME SEEM PASSIONATE OR SOMETHING BECAUSE I DISCOVERED KRAUT LITERALLY YESTERDAY

3. Probably it's something that gets boring really fast

//

So...

Skillful musicians w/ ability to express themselves and the problems of their country. Wether the singing style is something for you or not- there are countless of other groups.

We HAVE TO speak about these forgotten acts again & give it a chance

[stevie-petey]

episode one: the hellfire club

Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–” “Boobies! It’s not a big deal–” You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.” “Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!”  You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.” 

Summary: el writes to you as if youre her husband away at war, you debate the intricate nature of liking boobies with robin and steve, lucas is your beloved while eddie munson is your sworn enemy, steve accidentally exposes your (horribly hidden) daddy issues, dustin is an angsty teen, and jonathan really loves to drop emotional bombshells on you. can you believe this all happens in one day ? lol cheers to senior year !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of abuse, allusions to bullying, trauma lol

Words: 13.5k (wrote half of this in one day)

Before you swing in: SHES HERE !!!! SEASON 4 !!! this season terrifies me. i spent so much time outlining and making sure it was perfect. i have some changes i want to do, some ideas, and its scary because we dont have season 5 yet and i hate messing with canon ,,, alas: here she is. my baby. my beloved. quick fun fact: theres a scene in here ive had planned since season 1 so .... enjoy !

–

March 21st, 1986.

Dear Y/N,

Congratulations on New York University! Joyce tells me that it is a very good college, and everyone was extremely happy when Jonathan told us the news. He even had a smile on his face! It has been a very long time since I have seen him smile, especially without that weird smell on him (am I allowed to tell you about the strange plants that Jonathan seems to like now? He says that you cannot find out about it, but friends don’t lie and he is your bestest friend). 

I asked Will about it, and he says that Jonathan now smells because he misses you. If you ask me, I think that Jonathan smells because he is scared. We are still waiting for his college letter, afterall. I know you want to go to school with him, but so does Nancy. Is it possible to go to two colleges? Anyways, it must be a lot of pressure, even more with all the waiting we have to do, but Joyce told us that sometimes colleges take a long time to respond. 

While I am positive that Jonathan will figure it all out soon, he pretends he does not care. But he is a very bad liar. He was very upset that Nancy could no longer visit us in California. Will was bummed too, but he was more sad that it was not you who was visiting. Joyce says that the Byers boys were born to miss you, and I think she is right. 

I also miss you. I am still bummed I never went to school with you. I bet Mike is over the moon to have you with him for high school, Dustin and Lucas also. How is Max? Is she still sad? I know school has been hard for her. I will admit that it is hard for me, too. While I am good at maths, and my grammar is getting better, I am still unsure when to use conjunctions or why Angela does not like me. Will tells me to ignore her, but I want to be her friend. She is nice to everyone else. It confuses me that she is not nice to me.

A lot about California confuses me. The flowers here are different, and sometimes I forget that I cannot go and visit you. I miss the smell of Bookstrordinary (did I spell it right?) and your cookies. Please send more as soon as you can. Will and I are almost dying to taste them again! Mike says he will try to bring some on the plane, but I am scared he will be told no by those scary airplane people.

Speaking of Mike, he is coming to California this week! I am very excited to see him. It has felt like years, I think I am even going crazy. I have planned everything for his week here. Spring break will be extra special! It will be a fun distraction from Angela and school. This week I can pretend to be someone else, someone cool, and Mike will be very impressed. I know you tell me to always be myself, so I hope that I can make you happy by taking your advice on focusing only on the good. 

To prove I will focus on the good from here on out, here is a good things list: 

Mike is visiting!

Will has almost finished his painting. I am very curious to see what he has made. He is really talented, he shows me the drawings he sends you sometimes. 

You got into NYU! Is this the correct way to abbreviate? I am still working on conjunctions, but I think I am supposed to use the first letter of every word in the school’s name to shorten it. At least, that is what Joyce says. 

Jonathan’s new best friend, Argyle, will give us free pizza to celebrate Mike’s arrival. It is really good pizza. 

Tasting your cookies again. Fingers crossed Mike’s plan succeeds!

I am sure there is more, but I am too excited about this week and my mind is going very fast. I miss you tons, maybe even more than Will and Jonathan do. Please come visit us soon. Like Joyce says, the Byers boys were born to miss you. Although I am not a Byers boy, I am still a part of the Byers family, and I miss you. 

Love, El.

P.S., thank you for the grammar books. I will be sure to become the best writer ever in California. 

–

Sweet, gentle, El. You can almost hear her voice, reading aloud to you as you used to do when she lived in Hopper’s cabin. She would stumble over the letters, ask you how to sound out particularly difficult words in Spider-Man comics; they helped her learn how to read. Now, almost a year later, she’s writing you letters. 

El has grown up so much within such a short few months, although it doesn’t surprise you.

Laughing softly as you reread the final line she’s written, you wipe your eyes and place El’s letter onto your desk. The piece of paper joins the others, nestled gently with a pile of her other letters that are housed on your desk. El sends you a new letter every week, detailing silly stories about Jonathan and Will or concerned ramblings about Angela.

The letters make you miss El terribly. They make you miss everyone terribly. 

Next to the letters are drawings from Will. He’s become such an artist during his time in California. He sends you beautiful sketches of landscapes in their neighborhood, doodles from class, and incredibly detailed drawings of you and the party. The drawings are Will’s special way to keep in contact with you, and it’s something you cherish so deeply. However, you didn’t know that he was working on a painting, and you’re curious to see what El is talking about. Eventually he’ll reveal his art to you, he always does.  

Skimming a finger over one of the more recent drawings from Will, your hand catches on the walkman that lays next to it. Jonathan’s messy handwriting is scrawled on the mixtape that sits within it.

For bug.

The words, familiar and loved, stare back at you. The mixtape contains songs that Jonathan so carefully chose for you. He spent countless hours selecting songs that he knew you’d love, songs that reminded him of you. It had been his gift for you before he moved away. And now he’s gone, and you miss him so much more than you ever thought you would. More than you ever thought you could miss anyone.  

Jonathan never did end up coming to Hawkins for spring break. 

“Dusty, what’s going on in there?” The sound of your mother pounding on Dustin’s door breaks you from your thoughts. “You’re gonna be late.”

“Don’t come in, I’m naked!” You hear the boy screech back at her, which you roll your eyes at. Steve will be here to pick you guys up any minute. Dustin knows he should be ready by now, the schedule has never changed. 

Throwing on the cardigan Steve got you for Christmas last year, you grab your walkman and storm over to Dustin’s room. At the same time, your mother nearly crashes into you in the hall. Her face is pale, horrified of the idea that she almost saw her son naked, and you pity the woman. Dustin has become relentless lately, even more difficult to deal with. 

“Y/N, my dear,” your mother clutches at her chest and fans her face. “Can you please make sure your brother is ready? I think that boy is trying to give me a heart attack.”

You sigh, figuring you would have to do so anyways. “Yeah, sure. Go finish getting ready, I’ll handle him.”

“This is why you’re my favorite daughter!” Your mother kisses your cheek before running off towards the kitchen to make her morning coffee. 

Once she’s gone, you immediately start banging on Dustin’s door. He knows you hate being late. Plus, it’s the Friday before spring break. You’re getting antsy waiting for this week to end. “Dustin Henderson, you have three seconds before I kick this door down.”

“Not now, Y/N!” Dustin shouts back, frantic and desperate. 

You narrow your eyes. He’s using his suspicious voice, the one he only uses when he’s doing something he absolutely shouldn’t be doing. Glancing down at your watch and noting the early hour, you curse in disbelief. “It’s not even seven yet, what the hell are you up to so early in the morning?”

“Nothing! Just go away, I’ll be out soon–”

“I swear, if you’re trying to sell my limited edition comics again I will hurt you.” You throw your body against the door, causing it to fly open as you stumble inside. Dustin is at his computer and he nearly falls off his chair in his haste to cover the screen from you. He’s remarkably horrible at playing cool. You’re about to tell him this when Suzie’s voice crackles through his radio’s speakers. 

“Yikes, Dusty.”

“Suzie?” You walk over to your brother and shove his hands off the computer screen. He falls to the ground with a loud thud, which pleases you. He may be a teenager now, but you’re still stronger than him. At least for now. “Why are you calling her right now–” Your eyes land on the screen and you recognize Hawkins High’s familiar orange and green school colors. “Is this the student gradebook?”

“No!” Dustin exclaims, but Suzie’s small and soft voice responds, “Yes.”

“Oh my God,” you cannot believe he’s making his girlfriend hack into your school’s database. Sure, she’s a genius, but you also know she’s incredibly religious. “Dustin, this is so illegal and goes against, like, all of Suzie’s religious morals–”

“I will repent later.” Suzie interrupts you, and you raise your eyebrows at what she’s just said. Before you can question her, Dustin’s computer refreshes. 

He leans forward, eyes scanning to see if they’ve succeeded, and he seems to like what he sees. Suddenly Dustin lets out a sudden whoop and fist bumps the air. “God, I love you Suzie.”

Curious, you lean over and read the screen as well. There, where you know Dustin had a D- in Latin not even a day ago, is now an A. There’s no possible way he was able to raise his grade in under twenty-four hours. He sucks at Latin, he hates it, which means… She did it. Suzie changed his grade. All she had to do was press one single button to save Dustin’s GPA. 

You have to admit, it’s impressive. And shamefully genius. 

“Hey, Suzie.” You bring the radio to your lips, shoving Dustin away when he tries to take it from you. “Do you think you could change my grade in calculus? Jonathan was the only reason I passed any of my other math classes.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Suzie’s voice raises a pitch, she doesn’t want to tell you no. She likes you, she really does, but her God figurine stares down at her with a disappointed look in his eyes. She’s sinned for love, but she doesn’t think she could ever do it again. 

You’re about to plead with Suzie, tell her NYU really prioritizes their student’s grades, but the sound of a car honking outside catches your attention; it’s Steve. Dustin yanks the radio from your hand and shoos you away. “Go, leave without me.”

“What, why? We always drive together.” You frown, feeling like a little kid when you cross your arms. Dustin smiles apologetically, a smile you’ve become familiar with. Your mood darkens, anger rises to your cheeks. You know exactly why Dustin is now skipping out on you. “Don’t tell me it’s that stupid Eddie Munson–”

“He wants me and Mike to work out some campaign details before lunch today!” Dustin scrambles to mediate. He hates that you don’t like Eddie, and you like everyone. It’s unnerving how much disdain you seem to carry for his friend. “Nance is driving us, but I swear I’ll ride with you and Steve after break!”

You scoff at Dustin, not at all believing his promise to you. Ever since September your brother has been at Eddie Muson’s beck-and-call, who dictates everything Dustin says or does. At first it was innocent enough, choosing to sit with the guy instead of you at lunch. Skipping out on a few weekend plans with you and Steve to campaign with Eddie. You’d been happy for Dustin. He was making new friends, no longer your little shadow; he was his own person with his own priorities and interests now.

But ever since getting into NYU last week, Dustin has been pulling away even more from you. You don’t know why, but he’s become even more obsessed with Eddie and his stupid Hellfire club. 

Eddie Munson is the air your brother now breathes, stifling the air Dustin once breathed for you.

And it seems to only be suffocating you, not him.

“Yeah, whatever.” Halfheartedly you ruffle Dustin’s hair, and he leans into the touch. You don’t want him to know his repeated absences are upsetting you. Deep down, you know you’re being irrational. You’re almost eighteen, soon you won’t even be living under the same roof as Dustin. He’s allowed to live his own life. “I guess I’ll see you at the pep rally. Tell Suzie I said bye, please?”

Dustin nods, though you don’t linger in the doorway like you desperately want to. Instead, you shut the door behind you and place a swift kiss to your mother’s cheek as you leave. 

Steve’s car is parked in its usual spot at the end of the driveway. The teen’s arm hangs out the window and his face breaks into a smile when he sees you approaching. Steve’s smile is infectious, it’s always charmed you, and it settles the ache in your chest from your brother’s earlier dismissal. Feeling a smile spread across your own face, you run towards Steve and poke your head through the open window.

“Hi,” you breathe out, nose almost bumping against his cheek.

“Hi, angel.” Steve kisses you, solidifying your morning tradition. Neither one of you really remembers who started it, but sometime during the school year you began to slip your head through Steve’s car window so that he could kiss you slow and sweet. 

And, as tradition follows, Robin starts boos. “Do you have to do that every morning?”

Steve makes a face at her and she punches his arm. He yelps in pain and you roll your eyes at the two of them before running over to the passenger’s side where Robin sits. Her window is rolled down as well and you duck your head inside. “Aw, Robin. If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve just said so!” 

“A kiss–?” Your lips press against Robin’s cheek, smushing against her face while making a dramatic sound. She squeals and pushes you away, wiping her now wet cheek in disgust. “That is not what I wanted.”

You giggle at her and finally get into the car. It’s getting late, you see the assortment of Robin’s limited makeup dumped into her lap haphazardly. She’s been stressing about this morning’s pep rally all week, and clearly she isn’t coping very well. Trying to cheer her up, you flick her shoulder. “I’ll have you know that my cheek kisses are cherished in Hawkins.”

“How many people’s cheeks are you kissing?” Steve turns in his seat to face you, slightly alarmed. Then, noticing that there’s only one Henderson in his car, he frowns. “And where’s little Henderson?”

“Eddie Munson.”

“Woah, wait, you mean Eddie as in where Dustin is, right? Not, like, you’ve been kissing his cheek? I’m right, right? Please tell me I’m right.”

You roll your eyes fondly at Steve while Robin rolls hers in displeasure. “Just drive, Steve.”

–

It becomes pretty apparent five minutes into the car ride that no one seems to be having a good morning. Robin has spent the majority of the drive applying and reapplying her mascara while messing with her hair. She groans every time she looks in the mirror and her eyes lack their usual brilliance. 

Meanwhile, Steve has been complaining about yet another fight with his dad. Apparently they argued during breakfast, something that has become a common occurrence in the Harrington household. 

“The asshole again reminded me that I’m turning twenty soon. As if I don’t already know that! I mean,” Steve laughs in exasperation. “For weeks now he’s been asking me what my plans are, as if working at Family Video just isn’t good enough for him. As if my dad isn’t the sole reason I had to get a lousy minimum wage job in the first place!” 

“Family Video isn’t a lousy job–”

“Yes it is.” Both Steve and Robin say at the same time, which you sigh at. Can’t really argue with that. 

“Okay, yeah. It’s pretty lousy.”

Steve rubs his eyes tiredly. “And that isn’t even the worst part. There I was, pouring syrup over my pancakes, trying to enjoy the fact that my parents are actually home for once, when my asshole of a father tells me that if I don’t have a respectable job by the time I’m twenty, he’ll kick me out. I mean, can you believe that?” 

You suck in a breath. “Steve…”

Richard Harrington is a cruel, awful man. 

While you understand his frustrations towards Steve, it’s completely unreasonable to expect him to get a reputable job in a few short months without any college education. Steve’s right, it had been Richard’s idea to make him work at Scoops Ahoy in the first place. When the mall burned down, he had no other option but to work at Family Video soon after. 

“I’m sorry, honey.” You intertwine your fingers through Steve’s hair and rub your thumb up and down the nape of his neck in a soothing manner. Steve allows the touch, but he’s still tense. Guessing that he’s uncomfortable feeling so pitied, you try to make light of the situation with humor. “But hey, who knows? Maybe you can come live with me in New York if he ends up kicking you out.”

Steve risks a look at you, taking his eyes off the road for a few moments, and his eyes shine. He’s ecstatic over what you’ve just said. He looks like a little kid on Christmas Eve. “You really mean that?”

“Well, I mean…” It had mostly been a joke, a throwaway comment to try and get him to smile. But Steve’s body finally relaxes under your touch and you can’t tell him no. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“You hear that, Robin?” Steve preens, wanting to get her attention. However, when he realizes that she hasn’t been listening to the entire conversation, he makes an offended sound. “Robin, are you listening to me?”

“Uh, yes?” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror, startled that she’s been caught. “You were-uh. Talking to Y/N about your dad. We-we hate him! Yeah, we hate the guy. He really… grinds my gears?”

Steve groans. “We all hate my dad, but that wasn’t what I was talking to you about!”

“Cut me some slack, please. Your relationship with your father is one of labyrinthine complexity–”

You poke your head between the two teens. “Actually, it’s not that complicated.”

Robin covers your mouth with her hand and continues with her rant. “It’s seven in the morning, we have the stupid pep rally, and I woke up looking like a total corpse!” 

“I think you look lovely as always, Robin.” You mumble through the girl’s hand, barely coherent.

Steve, however, isn’t as supportive. “You’re worried about a pep rally? You really expect me to believe that?”

“Yeah, so?” Robin removes her hand from your mouth and goes back to doing her makeup. She’s avoiding the conversation now, which only means that Steve is onto something. Why has she been so obsessed about this week’s pep rally? Robin has been in band for years now, she’s done a million pep rallies during her high school career. It can’t be performing that makes her nervous. 

Which means it has to be about someone. 

Locking eyes with Steve, he seems to be thinking what you are. “I think we all know what this is about, okay? Y/N and I aren’t buying that bullshit.”

“This is about Vickie.” You finish for him, a smirk on your face. For weeks now Vickie has been all Robin has talked about. Her hair, how pretty her smile is, how cute her freckles are. Vickie also happens to be in band with Robin. “C’mon, you can’t tell us we’re wrong.”

“I absolutely can tell you you’re wrong.” Robin denies what you and Steve are implying.

Steve shakes his head. “You know we’re right! And you know what else we think?”

“I really don’t care–”

“Y/N and I think that you gotta stop pretending to be someone else when you’re around her, okay? You just gotta be yourself.”

Robin doesn’t want to hear any of this. At least not from you and Steve. “You guys are biased, you do realize that?”

“What do you mean?” You’re practically laying across Steve’s car console in order to be a part of the conversation. “I think we’re objective people.”

“You’re telling me that all I have to do is be myself and Vickie will want to date me?”

You frown. “Yeah? What’s wrong with that?”

Robin throws her head back. “Because it took Steve months to ask you out. Mind you, this was when you were already in love with the guy! And he knew you were in love with him!”

“Okay, hey–” Steve doesn’t at all like what she’s insinuating. He didn’t necessarily know you were already in love with him, he just… had a small hunch. 

“I’m not done,” Robin holds her hand up. “All Steve had to do was man up and admit his feelings for you. He didn’t have to agonize over whether or not it’d blow up in his face. There was no risk, no danger, no world ending consequences. I mean, if you had rejected him then maybe Steve’s ego would’ve been bruised. But if I ask out the wrong girl? Bam! I’m a town pariah.”

“This is true,” you reluctantly agree. While you could never envision a world where you’d ever say no to Steve, you also recognize that the world where you somehow do wouldn’t be the same world as Robin’s. Things are different for her, whether you like it or not. Robin has to live with this knowledge, and her conversation with you about luck and love from last summer echoes in your mind. 

Steve places a hand on his chest, betrayed. “Whose side are you on, Y/N?”

“True love’s side.”

Robin snorts and Steve doesn’t bother to hide his smile. He wants to tease you for being a hopeless romantic, but now isn’t the time. Instead, he continues the previous conversation. “True love aside, we can’t ignore that Vickie is definitely not the wrong girl.”

“Oh, she definitely isn’t straight.” You agree.

“We don’t know that!” Robin quickly sprays some breath freshener in her mouth and gags, which you cringe at. Vickie is one lucky girl if Robin ever manages to become her girlfriend. 

Steve doesn’t let up, he’s convinced he has it all figured out. “She returned Fast Times paused at fifty-three minutes, five seconds.”

“The bikini scene, mind you.” You butt in, and Steve nods eagerly.

“And you know who pauses Fast Times at fifty-three minutes, five seconds? People who like boobies, Robin!” 

Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–”

“Boobies! It’s not a big deal–”

You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.”

“Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!” 

You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.” 

Robin can’t even look at the two of you, appalled by how many times the word “boobies” has been uttered during the duration of the conversation. You can’t blame her, the word has practically lost all meaning for you as well.

Steve, however, can’t seem to get enough of it. “It’s boobies!” He exclaims again to no one in particular.

You and Robin lock eyes, and then, without saying anything, your hand covers Steve’s mouth while Robin flicks his forehead, effectively putting the boob conversation to an end. 

– 

The moment Steve’s BMW slows in front of the school, Robin throws the door open and rushes out with a quick “see you later!” to you as she runs to follow after her bandmates. Steve waves weakly as she goes and sighs in disappointment.

“She’s never talking to Vickie, is she?”

“Not a chance,” you sigh as well, watching as Robin’s figure disappears in the crowd of students. Spring break looms over the student body, everyone buzzes with excitement over their week of freedom and tonight’s basketball game. The pep rally in just a few short minutes only adds to the exhilaration. Leaning forward, your lips graze against Steve’s. “Anyways, see you tonight?”

He bridges the gap between your lips, skin meets skin and warmth floods your stomach. “Of course, angel. I love you.”

“I love you, too, honey.” And with one last kiss, you exit Steve’s car and make your way towards the school. As always, Steve waits until you’re safely on the sidewalk before he pulls away and heads towards Family Video. He’s started picking up morning shifts to fill the time he isn’t with you.

On your way inside, you see Ms. Kelly talking to Max near the buses. The conversation is short, doesn’t last much longer than a few seconds, and when Max turns away you notice Ms. Kelly’s patient smile drop. Clearly Max still isn’t being cooperative when it comes to their sessions. She promised you she would start trying, but Max Mayfield has always been stubborn and you’ve always been slightly overbearing.

Not the best combination, honestly.

With a sigh, you make a mental note to ask Max about what the counselor talked to her about later. There’s too much going on this morning to focus on it, and you’re already pushing Max by having her attend the pep rally anyways. Originally she had wanted to skip it and hide in the stairwell, but after begging her about it, Max finally agreed.

The conversation can wait. For now, at least she’ll be next to you in the bleachers alongside the boys to cheer on Lucas.

The thought was enough to brighten your mood a little, but it quickly became a pain in the ass to corral the party into sitting together. It took you almost fifteen minutes to find Mike and Dustin in the mass of students heading into the gym. You’re not necessarily sure how it took so goddamn long given the fact that Mike towers over half of the students anyways. He’s grown freakishly tall since starting freshman year. It unnerves you. 

While his towering height annoys you, Mike likes that he can finally, literally, look down on you. 

“There you guys are!” You grab the back of Mike’s shirt and he lets out a startled yelp. Dustin stumbles back as well, and an annoyed sophomore glares at the three of you. Ignoring her, you grab your brother’s shirt and start dragging the two boys towards the bleachers. “Thought we agreed on meeting at the water fountain that squirts water in your face?”

“I thought it was the library?” Dustin gives you an odd look. “Wait, is there even a water fountain in the library?”

“You amaze me.” You remark, not even bothering to answer his question. He listens like a bag of rocks. Mike just allows you to pull him, not at all contributing to the conversation.

Max waits for you in the bleachers. She’s saved you seats, something that you feel slight relief over. The simple gesture is small, but it sparks just enough hope within your chest to make you exhale softly. Hope that she’s getting better. Hope that she’s finally trying again.

Thanking Max, you and the others fill the seats as the gym quickly fills with more and more students until it threatens to overflow. The roar of the crowd is nearly deafening. Across from the bleachers resides the marching band. They’re playing the school’s anthem as the cheerleaders start their routine. Chrissy Cunningham leads them, her smile lovely and beautiful, she shines so brightly upon the crowd that you can’t help but fall in love with her.

In the midst of the cheerleaders’ twists and flips, Robin manages to catch your eye from across the room.

You eagerly wave at her and mime playing the trumpet, copying her movements as she actually plays one. Robin laughs, and next to her is a girl with fiery red hair who laughs as well. She’s pretty, you’ve heard countless sonnets about her red hair and dotted freckles. Knowing the girl is Vickie, you point at her as you wink at Robin, who scoffs and goes back to playing the trumpet. 

Next to you, you catch the tail end of some bizarre conversation between Mike and Dustin.

“Look, I’m not saying that my girlfriend is better than yours.” Dustin is clarifying, glaring at you when he hears your sarcastic snort. “It’s just that Suzie’s, like, a certified genius.”

Mike crosses his arms, looking towards you as if somehow this is all your fault. “Your brother realizes that El saved the world twice, right?”

“Admittedly that is hard to beat,” you shrug. “That, and she has cool powers.”

Dustin points a finger at the two of you. “And yet Mike still has a C in Spanish while you’re barely passing calculus.”

Mike rolls his eyes and you shrug again. Your brother isn’t necessarily wrong either. El’s saved the world, Suzie has saved his GPA. Both are nearly impossible feats. “Touchy subject, but touché.”

“And what can your boyfriend do, Y/N?” Mike asks, now bringing the attention to your love life.

“He’s good with a bat.”

Both Dustin and Mike groan, but you shush them when the school’s broadcaster announces the Tigers basketball team. Applause breaks out across the bleachers and you notice Max looking around for Lucas. Though she tries to hide it, you can see the interest and excitement in her eyes. She’s happy for him, but it breaks your heart that she feels that she can’t show it.

Jason Carver, captain of the basketball team and former Scoops Ahoy patron before Steve spilled ice cream all over his pants, runs out first. The crowd goes wild, but you don’t start cheering until you see Lucas. He’s smiling wide, proud to be a part of the team. You scream as loud as you can for him, he’s come so far since confessing to you about wanting to join the team earlier this year. As Jason starts his speech, dramatic as he always is, Lucas sees you in the bleachers and waves shyly, a blush creeping across his face. Then, seeing Max next to you, his confidence seems to grow as he waves more enthusiastically at her. 

The moment is sweet, it makes you smile. 

Except Max doesn’t wave back. She crosses her arms, pretends she hasn’t seen him, and your smile drops alongside Lucas’. 

You know they’ve been having some trouble recently. With Max pulling away more and more each day, Lucas struggled to hold onto the fading girl. Despite his pleas and reassurances, Max still seems to be icing him out. According to Dustin, they broke up almost a month ago now. 

But they’ve always had a tumultuous relationship, long before nightmares and monsters darkened everything. The news hadn’t worried you at first, you thought it was simply another one of their weekly breakups over something small, innocent. Afterall, they were just kids when they first started dating. Their breakups were always childish, though endearing, and always temporary. 

Now, you’re scared that this time it’s permanent. 

You’re not sure what that means for Max. She already has so few people left in her life to tether her. Billy died, her mother works two jobs and is never home anymore, El is in California, and you and Lucas are breaking skin trying to claw onto whatever small hold you have left of the girl.

Another loud cheer from the crowd breaks you from your thoughts. Jason must’ve just said something important, something worthy enough of a roaring reaction. He’s always been popular in Hawkins, Steve used to complain about him to you back when he was still on the team. But when Steve graduated and Billy died, Hawkins High had needed a new King to crown.

Jason Carver was more than happy to ascend the throne. 

“Chrissy, I love you, babe.” Everyone awes and you see Chrissy blow Jason a kiss. It’s sweet, you suppose. They fit together nicely, head cheerleader with the star of the basketball team, and they seem genuinely happy. Chrissy’s shy and kind demeanor balances Jason’s loud and charismatic boldness. They truly are a good match. 

“I think I can speak for all of us when I say it’s been a tough year for Hawkins.” Jason continues his speech, the room is eerily silent as everyone listens with baited breath. “So much loss…” The gym almost exhales simultaneously, remembering all the people who died last summer.

Your own breath exhales, and beside you Max tenses. Billy’s ghost floats through your minds, in through hers and out through yours. Hopper’s own ghost follows after him, only he doesn’t haunt Max the way he haunts you. He lingers over you, his final words to you engraved into your skin. 

You’re the best of them.

“And sometimes I wonder, how much loss can one community take?”

Enough to fill a mall of burning bodies, you think bitterly. 

Jason paces the gym’s floor now, he almost seems to glow before the crowd. He rambles on about needing something to believe in. That everyone should be doing something to honor all the lives lost in July, that playing basketball can absolve all the despair. As if it can bring them back.

Deep below your ribcage, nestled right underneath your scar and just in front of your stomach, rests a pit of anger that always simmers. You were born with it, it has always followed you. It has grown with you, the anger almost possessed your body when your dad left. Now, hearing Jason recite all the names of the ones who died that Fourth of July, the anger’s low simmer heats into a soft boil. 

You try to quell it. Jason means well, he’s only trying to uplift the community in a passionate, albeit uncomfortably pastor-y way. He’s only doing what he knows best; he’s being a leader. In another life, one where Demogorgons never harmed you, you think you would’ve really admired Jason and his resilience. 

“Think of Billy,” Your breath stills, yet your hand instinctively finds Max’s. She turns away from you, but the room is spinning and you can’t remember how to inhale. But Jason keeps going. “Think about our heroic police chief, Jim Hopper.”

Next to you, in your haze of grief and panic, you think you can feel Mike and Dustin shift uncomfortably. Grief sinks her claws into the kids, and you want nothing more than to puncture Jason’s lungs with them. 

This was supposed to be a pep rally for the Tigers, it was supposed to be joyous, an opportunity to bring Max out of her shell. To distract her from the hell that she calls her life. The entire school knows what happened to Billy, they know that he had a little sister named Max Mayfield.

You hate Jason Carver.

But you’re here for Lucas. Today is about him. He’s finally happy, he’s smiling again. The least you can do is swallow down the anger and grief and hope that you don’t end up choking on them later. That they don’t strangle you in your dreams.

“And now tonight, we’re gonna bring home the championship trophy!” Jason screams into the mic, erupting a volcanic roar from the stadium. People throw paper into the air, whistling and jumping up and down at the prospect of Hawkins High finally winning a championship.

“Tonight?” Dustin’s agonized exclamation causes you to jump. He looks at you, bewildered and panicked. “How is that possible?”

Your heart still hasn’t steadied from the surge of fury Jason evoked. Swallowing once again, you clear your throat and shake your head at your brother. “What, you guys didn’t know about the game tonight?”

“They call it a tournament,” Max explains for you, figuring you need some time to clear your head. You squeeze her hand appreciatively. “You win one game, you go on until there’s only one team left.”

Mike and Dustin exchange frightened looks, and you eye them suspiciously. “Did you guys really not know? I thought Steve explained all of this to you already. Why is it such a big deal, anyways? I mean–wait,” the boys won’t meet your gaze. They avoid facing you, Mike stuffs his hands into his pockets and Dustin pretends to read someone’s poster. 

You know the fearful look on their faces. It’s the same look Dustin gave you this morning when he ditched you to ride with Nancy and Mike. 

Goddamn Eddie Munson. 

“Oh, don’t you guys dare.” They wouldn’t. They wouldn’t fucking dream of missing one of Lucas’ games for a stupid club centered around some guy with enormous ego problems. “I swear to God, if you two skip the game tonight–”

“We won’t! I-I mean… Well. It’s, uh. It’s complicated” Dustin gulps, elbowing his way through the crowd of departing students as the pep rally ends. Mike follows, ready to step in at any moment, while Max slips away before you can stop her. Seeing how contorted your body is from anger, Dustin tries to appease you. “Look, I can’t promise anything, alright? Eddie is… Eddie.”

You’re about to scream some very choice words about that curly haired emo asshole, but Lucas intercepts the group and joins you guys. He looks between you, Mike, and Dustin, sensing some underlying tension. “What about Eddie?”

Mike quickly explains, and the more he talks, the more you want to shove your knives down Eddie’s throat. It’s one night, one goddamn night, and here Mike and Dustin are, almost shitting their pants at the idea of missing one Hellfire meeting to support their friend. While it’s unfortunate that all of this is happening on the same night, and though you recognize how long a campaign can take and how much the game means to the party, for once you can’t bring yourself to understand Dustin’s side. 

A championship game versus one single campaign meeting that can easily be done tomorrow instead.

Seems like a pretty easy decision to you. 

Lucas doesn’t understand why Mike and Dustin are so conflicted either. “I don’t get the big deal.” You’re all outside now, heading towards the main building for your classes. “Just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire to another night.”

You nod, agreeing with him, and Dustin rolls his eyes. “‘Just talk to Eddie.’”

“You can’t be serious right now,” your shoulder brushes harshly against the boy’s. You’re barely containing your anger right now. “Why does Eddie have such a strong hold over you guys? Hasn’t he repeated senior year twice now?”

“Why does that matter?” Mike looks at you as if you’re the scum of the earth that he just so happened to step on. “Why can’t Lucas just talk to his coach and get him to move the game?”

Dustin quips that he thinks Mike’s idea is a great one, but you shove between them and throw your hands in the air in annoyance. “You can’t possibly think that’s the same thing, right? A nationally organized game being postponed for a board game.”

Mike and Dustin both gasp at you, acting as if you’ve just threatened to kill a baby bunny in front of them, which only annoys you more. Sure, maybe you’re being a little mean right now, but you’re not appreciating how they’re treating Lucas. He’s never done anything to warrant this blatant disrespect from them. They’re refusing to see his side, too lost in their Eddie induced high. 

“DnD isn’t just a board game, Y/N! I’m honestly disappointed that you of all people would even say that. You’ve seen the intricacies of a campaign. You know I’ve spent all month now preparing for the end of Eddie’s campaign!” Dustin waves his hands in front of him, he’s in his own ecstasy of anger and annoyance, something innate in the Henderson bloodline. “A semester of adventuring has led to this moment, and we need Lucas.”

“Yeah, and the Tigers don’t.” Mike looks over at Lucas. “I mean, no offense, but you’ve been on the bench all year–shit!”

You swat the back of Mike’s head, the sound of his yelp satisfying and the sting of the hit soothes you. He looks at you, offended, and you just shake your head at him. “No, that was out of line and you know it.”

“One day I’m gonna be too tall for you to hit me, you know.” Mike scowls at you as he rubs his head. 

“And I’ll mourn the day when that happens,” you respond dryly before pointing at Lucas. “Now, apologize to him before I hit you again.”

Lucas lowers your finger and shakes his head. “It’s fine, Y/N. Me being on the bench isn’t the point, anyways.”

“Please, arrive at the point.” Your brother drops his head back and closes his eyes. He’s tired, he regrets even starting this conversation in the first place. The more the four of you talk, the angrier he can feel you become. Mike’s head may now be sore, but Dustin lives with you. If anyone here is in danger of your lecturing, it’s him.

“If I get in good with these guys, I’ll be in the popular crowd, and then you guys will be too.” Lucas explains, looking between Dustin and Mike as he urges them to understand, but they don’t. Mike claims that they don’t want to be popular, something that Lucas doesn’t believe. “What, you wanna be stuck with the nerds and freaks for three more years?”

“We are nerds and freaks!” Dustin exclaims, causing a few students in the hall to look at you guys. You wave at them awkwardly, you’re starting to regret following the boys. This conversation feels personal, like you shouldn’t be intruding. Though you think Lucas has every right to want a good high school experience, you also think Mike and Dustin deserve to have their own experiences as well. If they don’t want to be popular, then that’s their decision just as much as it’s Lucas’ to want to be. 

You step between the three boys, finally getting their attention. “Guys, no one here is necessarily right or wrong. Lucas has every right to want to be a part of the basketball crowd, and you two,” you raise your eyebrows at Mike and Dustin, “have every right to want to stick with Eddie’s crowd.”

Dustin sighs, “thanks, Y/N–”

“I’m not finished,” you hold a hand up and shush your brother. “What isn’t right, however, is abandoning one another. You guys are friends, and right now Lucas wants you at his game tonight to support him. Tonight is special, everyone will be there, and I want you guys there as well. I know high school is hard, but it’s even harder when you’re alone.”

“Says the girl who is adored by everyone in this shitty town.” Mike huffs, he can’t believe how hypocritical you’re being. “You’ve never had to deal with what we do. No one has ever laughed at you or tried to make you jump off a cliff just because you’re different.”

You clench your jaw. Dustin looks at you wearily, he doesn’t like what Mike is saying, but he also can’t help but agree with his friend. You haven’t ever been bullied. All your life you’ve blended in, stood out only when you were kind to others, admired for your selflessness, but never enough to be invited to parties or dumped behind a dumpster.

“Mike…” Your brother tries to pull him away from you, but you both stand your ground.

“You’re right, Wheeler. I don’t know what it’s like.” You stare up at the boy, and Mike’s expression softens only slightly. He’s just as stubborn as you are, it’s why the two of you admire the other so much. “But you forget that I’m Jonathan’s best friend. The creep, the loser, the psychopath. Kids may not have ever targeted me, but I’ve seen what they do to the people they hate.”

All the times you had to ice Jonathan’s bruised face. The nights you spent in his room holding him as he cried because Lonnie’s fists and Tommy’s cruel words were too much. The sneers, the stares Jonathan received because he was different. Quiet. Being your best friend hadn’t lessened the blows. 

For years you wish you could’ve done more for Jonathan. Now, presented with Lucas’ opportunity to befriend the crowd that once was so cruel to your friend, you refuse to lose it. “That’s why I don’t want Lucas skipping the game tonight.”

It’s silent for a few moments, all three boys don’t know what to say. Taking a deep breath, Lucas stands beside you and breaks the silence. “We came to high school wanting things to be different, right? Now we have that chance. Like Y/N said, if I skip tonight, that’s all out the window. So I’m asking you guys, as a friend, just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire.”

Lucas pauses, he wets his lips and looks between his friends again. He feels so small, pleading for their attention. “Come to my game. Please.”

The bell rings, ending the conversation, and Lucas spares one last look at Dustin and Mike before mumbling a soft goodbye to you. He leaves you alone with the boys, who in turn mirror conflicted expressions. 

“Shit!” Dustin kicks his foot out and looks at you. “This is all your fault, you know that?”

“What is?”

“Me having empathy. I hate this. Why couldn’t you have raised me to be an asshole?”

You snort at Dustin before pulling him into a weak hug. You only have a few more minutes before you need to get to class, you can’t stay very long, but you also don’t want to leave the boys without some semblance of comfort. “You’re too charming to be an asshole. Just… Come to the game, alright? Both of you. I’ll even make brownies if I have to. I just-I’ve missed you guys. This will be good for all of us.”

Mike ducks his head and Dustin sighs once more. Neither want to say anything else, so you reluctantly release your brother and leave them alone to wallow in their self-created misery. 

They’ll do the right thing. You’re sure of it.

– 

Lunch comes and Alex sits next to you. He started sitting with you at lunch just after winter break, and you’re endlessly grateful for him. You’re no longer alone, and he’s good company. A part of you regrets that it took the two of you three years to grow your friendship outside of Bookstrorindary. 

You’ll miss him when you graduate. 

Max is with Ms. Kelly today, a change in their usual meeting schedule of Tuesdays and Thursdays, meaning you had been right. She did skip their meeting yesterday and the counselor had to corner her this morning to schedule another one. 

“Be honest, how excited are you to move to New York this summer?” Alex asks you, taking a bite out of his carrot stick. You’ve come to learn that he has a weird obsession with the vegetable, always packing at least twelve of them every day. 

You pick at your own lunch, a wilted salad and sandwich your mom left for you this morning. “Honestly? It hasn’t really hit me yet. I mean, I only got in last week. I think my mind is still trying to catch up with reality.”

“Oh, c’mon. You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little excited.”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh and nudge the boy. “I’m a little excited. I just.. Haven’t really had time to think too much about it, you know? Between work, my brother, Steve, the kids, and…”

“Jonathan?” Alex finishes for you. He’s the only one who knows about how distant Jonathan has been. You’ve confided in him about how worried you are, about the phone calls while he’s high and the way Jonathan’s voice no longer sounds like his. 

You shove your lunch away, no longer hungry. “Yeah.”

“You guys call every Friday, right? Maybe tonight will be different!” Alex tries to cut through the tension that now corrodes your demeanor, which you smile at him gratefully for. 

“Yeah, who knows.” A piece of hair falls in your face and you push it behind your ear. Picking up your fork again, you attempt to finish your meal, but a sudden commotion interrupts the low buzz in the lunchroom. 

“As long as you’re into band, or science, or parties.” Eddie Munson sneers from the cafeteria table he’s standing on. He looks around the room as if everyone else is beneath him. Not worth his time just because they enjoy different things. Looking at Alex, you both sigh and prepare for whatever Eddie has to say today. His voice grows louder, shouting across the room towards the basketball team’s table. “Or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!”

Jason stands up and a few students whoop and cheer. “You want something, freak?”

Eddie sticks to fingers up behind his head as he creates little devil horns, snarling with his tongue out and hissing. Jason grimaces, you do too. 

“He’s a little much, isn’t he?” You say to Alex, relieved when Eddie starts to step down from the table. 

“He terrifies me.” Alex breathes out, not taking his eyes off Eddie in fear he’ll somehow cast a spell on him.

You laugh at your friend’s unnecessary fear. Eddie is harmless, Hellfire isn’t a demonic cult like some students at Hawkins seem to think. It really is just a club centered around a board game with impressive storytelling and detailed plotlines. From what Dustin has told you, Eddie truly is the best dungeon master in Indiana. 

And while you believe him, you can’t wrap your head around why your brother idolizes Eddie so much. The fascination runs deeper than just DnD. Dustin has spent almost every day of his freshman year wrapped around Eddie’s finger. He spends all his time with the teen now, rarely with you, but you’re not bitter. Of course you’re not. Dustin can have his own friends, you know this, but you also feel so… unneeded. 

Your little brother doesn’t need you anymore, and it’s a hard pill to swallow.

Truthfully, Alex’s question earlier about moving to New York in the summer sparked more than just your usual anxiety over Jonathan. It also reminded you that in only a few short months you’ll be in an entirely new state, a new city, far away from Dustin. 

“Y/N!” Dustin flies into the seat next to you, nearly upending the table itself with how violently he throws himself down.

Alex shrieks and you steady the table before anything can fall. Heart pounding, you clutch at your chest as your nerves settle. “Why must you always be so violent?”

“Because it’s fun,” Dustin responds, not even bothering to acknowledge Alex’s presence. Instead, his eyes are only on you, and there’s a crazed spark in them. He’s breathing heavily, frantic, and you dread where this is going. “Look, I need to ask you a huge favor.”

“Do you realize that this is the first time you’ve sat with me at lunch since the first day?”

He winces. “And I will repent every day for my horrendous sins. I promise, I just–Jesus you’re terrifying when you don’t blink.” Dustin removes his hat to fix his hair, a nervous tick of his. He’s stalling, he should’ve never come here. Gulping, he rips the band aid off. “I need you to sub for Lucas tonight.”

“I’m sorry?” You’re giving him an out, one chance to back down before you strangle him.

Only Dustin tightens the noose even more. “Please, Y/N! Eddie won’t move the campaign. He said something about sheep and-and finding subs because Mike and I are, uh. I guess the future of Hellfire and he needs us and did I mention how important this campaign is? It’s super cool, super gory and totally up your alley and–”

“No.”

“N-no?” Dustin practically deflates in front of you, the light in his eyes dies. 

You shove him away from you, you don’t want to look at his pathetic pouting. You’re so unbelievably hurt right now, so fucking infuriated. “You have spent every goddamn waking hour ass kissing Eddie. You haven’t so much as looked at me during lunch this entire year as if I’m a fucking plague. You’ve canceled plans, you’re hardly ever home, and now you expect me to abandon Lucas, someone who has spent time with me this year, someone who has made this entire year less lonely for me. Something, by the way, that you haven’t even noticed, all because you finally need me?”

Dustin’s mouth opens and closes, he doesn’t know what to say, but for once you don’t care. How could he possibly think you’d miss Lucas’ game tonight? You adore the boys, each and every one of them, and now Dustin expects you to just abandon one of them for the others? 

“You’re only here because it’s convenient for you.” You hiss, venom pouring from your voice. “For Eddie.” 

“Y/N…” Dustin’s voice breaks, he sounds like a little kid again, the baby brother you doted on your entire life. “Please.”

“No!” You scream at him. 

The word echoes throughout the cafeteria. A few students turn to you, some curious, some annoyed. Alex draws into himself, wishing he were anywhere but here right now. Dustin’s eyes widen, his skin pales, and you clamp your hand over your mouth, completely and utterly mortified. 

You’ve never, ever yelled at Dustin like this before. Not with so much malice, vitriol. 

You feel like you’re twelve again, your anger hurting your baby brother. 

Red hot with embarrassment and shame, you quickly get up from the table and flee the cafeteria. Dustin calls after you, but you stumble through the hallway towards the nearest bathroom. Tears burn your eyes, guilt wracks your body in painful thuds. 

By the time you lock yourself in the bathroom’s stall, your sobs have begun to claw their way out of your throat. Pressing your back against the wall, you sink to the ground and pull your knees into your chest as you finally allow yourself to cry.

Abandonment makes you cruel. Your father taught you that.

– 

You don’t see Dustin for the rest of the day. He’s missing Lucas’ game and you’re angry with him for that, but you also feel such an intense guilt over your outburst. You can’t stomach the thought of seeing him. 

School ends and Steve drives you to work. The shift will be a short one due to the championship game, and Steve is staying with you so that you can drive to the game together. However, the moment you get into his car, he notices the dried tears on your face and the redness in your eyes and immediately throws his arms around you. In between shaky breaths and cries, you explain what happened to Steve.

He soothes you, tells you that you can always talk to Dustin after tonight’s game. Right now you and your brother need space from one another, and you hate that Steve’s right. You’ll force Dustin into a code blue, you’re long overdue for one, anyways. He’s been acting weird for weeks now. Someone has to give in, you know this, and if it has to be you then you’ll do anything to get your brother back. 

For now, Steve holds your hand as he guides you through the crowd of people in the bleachers. They all cheer for Hawkins High, the energy in the gym is electric. Faces are painted, cheerleaders wave their pom-poms, and you’re wearing Steve’s old Tigers jersey. You’re not much for school spirit, but Steve almost crashed the car when he realized you were wearing the jersey, and you know Lucas will appreciate it too.

“Y/N, over here.” Steve’s hand falls onto the small of your back as he gently pushes you towards some open seats he’s found. You lean into his touch and sit beside him. With his body against yours, you try to immerse yourself in the joy from the crowd. 

The entire town is here tonight. Everyone is smiling, kids laugh and parents wave posters for their sons. Tonight will be a good night, you’ve decided this to be true. 

The national anthem is announced and everyone rises in their seats. When the broadcaster announces that Tammy Thompson will be singing, you and Steve look at each other incredulously. Laughter rises within you and you cackle when Robin finds the two of you in the crowd. There’s no way this won’t end in disaster. 

Tammy walks out, wearing a horrendous faux cowboy outfit, and almost immediately sings off-key. You cringe, ears stinging from the attack, and try desperately not to let out any laughter as she continues to butcher the song. 

Steve whispers over to Robin, “told you. Muppet.”

“Okay, she does sound like a muppet.” Robin agrees, which only makes it harder to contain your giggles. Tammy is worse than a muppet, she sounds like a goddamn muppet that broke into her dad’s alcohol stash. 

“You sound better, angel.” Steve whispers into your ear, breath warm against your skin. 

You lean back against him and smile sarcastically. “Anyone can sound better than her.”

Steve chuckles and you can’t help but join him. You know it’s rude, that Tammy is honestly not that bad, though definitely not good enough for Nashville, but you can’t help it. You can’t believe Robin ever had such a huge crush on the girl who now drones the national anthem like a dying parrot. 

In between breaths of laughter, you see Lucas looking up at the bleachers. His face is grim, he doesn’t see Mike or Dustin or Max. None of his friends showed up, and you watch him with sympathy. You can’t believe them. 

But then Lucas sees you, and he gives you a weak smile. Your attendance isn’t enough, you know it isn’t, but you hold up the poster you made for him and he laughs despite himself. 

The game starts, and from the moment the whistle is blown, it’s intense. The Tigers are neck and neck with the Falcons. Steve tries to explain what’s happening throughout the game, but it all goes over your head. The energy in the room is intoxicating, though. You lean forward in your seat, you cheer when everyone else does, boo when you think you should.

“Carver just loves hogging the spotlight, doesn’t he?” Steve says with disdain as he watches Jason side sweep his teammates to score. 

You poke his side, you know he’s only saying this because he’s still bitter that Jaosn tried asking you out last summer. “Honey, your jealousy is showing.” 

Steve tries to deny this, but then a player gets injured during a foul from Falcon, causing you and Steve to both spew insults at the player. You have no idea what the foul even is, but you’re enjoying the chaos of the game.

In the midst of your uproar, you almost miss Lucas being sent into the game. You slap Steve’s chest repeatedly to get his attention, you almost don’t believe what you’re seeing. “Steve! Is that–”

“Sinclair!” He whoops, but he quickly scrambles to catch you as you nearly throw yourself off the bleachers in your blind excitement cheering. You’re screaming your head off, hardly even registering Steve’s hands on your waist. You’re incoherent and ecstatic, drunk on adrenaline. 

Lucas is playing.

The game only gets more brutal from there. The points even out, both teams neck and neck. Anxious, you squeeze Steve’s hand with anticipation. Everything happens so fast, Lucas plays so naturally with the others, as if he was born to be there. 

“Go, Tigers!” You jump up and down as Lucas runs after Jason. They’re doing a new play, attempting to score the tie breaker. Jason shoots, the ball hits off the backboard and onto the rim. Your breath catches, there’s only three seconds left on the clock. The ball falls, and there isn’t any time left.

Until Lucas catches the missed shot. He dribbles the ball, you clutch Steve’s hand, neither one of you utters a single word as Lucas makes the final shot. It’s an all or nothing throw, a risk, but he takes it anyways. The ball soars through the air, hits the rim. The buzzer sounds, the game is over, and the ball spins around the rim before finally sinking through the net.

Your chest burns as you violently cheer, Steve flings himself into your arms. You’re both jumping around, screaming together like little kids. “Hey did it!” You scream, and Steve shakes you in his arms with the biggest smile on his face.

“Sinclair did it!”

Down below, Lucas’ face lights up as the crowd goes wild for him. This is the happiest you’ve seen the kid in so long. The entire basketball team swarms Lucas, they lift him into the air and you cheer alongside them.

Steve tells you he’ll go warm the car up and you practically run outside to find Lucas as soon as the game is done. Your body buzzes, you’re still breathless with exhilaration. When you find Lucas, he’s just left the crowd of teenage boys. Wanting to surprise him, you creep up slowly before throwing your arms from behind him. “There’s the star!”

He stumbles from your weight, but he knows it’s you. Laughing, he turns around and you pull him into a bone crushing hug. “You came!”

“Of course I did, you moron!” You giggle, pulling away to straighten his jacket. “I made you a poster and everything.”

Lucas looks down at the poster that hangs by your side. His eyes light up, he remembers seeing it in the stands at the beginning of the game, but he hadn’t been able to read it from so far away. “Can I see it?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t want to see it.” You unroll the poster and present it with a grand flourish. “Tada!” 

Sin to win, Sinclair!

You’re incredibly proud of the wordplay, and Lucas chuckles. It’s good, he has to admit. You’ve left no white space on the poster, littering with small 8’s for his jersey and millions of small stickers and decorations. The poster was made with love, and Lucas knows you spent hours making it.

“I love it, Y/N.” He does. It will hang on his wall as soon as he gets home.

You beam at him. Then, from behind you, you hear your brother’s own cheers as a door opens. Lucas’ smile fades, hurt creeps upon his face. Frowning, you turn and find Dustin and Mike high fiving their Hellfire friends as they all celebrate the end of their campaign. Erica is with them, cheering with everyone else. 

“Lucas…” Your breath gives out. He doesn’t deserve this. Tonight was supposed to be his night. You turn to him, wracking your brain to try and figure out what you’re even supposed to say at this moment. Fifty feet away Lucas’ close friends are celebrating a night without him, his sister overjoyed as well. They’ve forgotten about him.

For once, you can’t find the right words to say.

“Thanks for the poster, Y/N.” Lucas doesn’t want your sympathy. He leaves, crestfallen, and you’re left standing alone holding the poster he had been praising seconds ago. The late March air chills your bones. 

You’ve never been so disappointed in your brother before.

– 

Steve drives you home and you’re silent the entire time. 

“Dustin isn’t a bad kid, Y/N. You know that.” Steve tries to reason with you, but what your brother has done tonight leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. “I’m sure by tomorrow he’ll realize he was a jerk and apologize. He always does, he’s just being a stupid teen boy right now.”

You face the window, watching the trees fading into the distance. You know Steve is right, you know that Dustin is still growing up, making mistakes. Hell, no one is perfect at fifteen. When you were his age you were falling in love with your best friend as you hunted monsters together. Neither you or Jonathan or Nancy knew what the hell you guys were doing back then.

But this is different. Dustin has never betrayed his friends like this before. He, out of all of them, should understand the pain of being left behind. He spent half the summer upset that the party ditched him, and now he’s ditching Lucas?

“You know, I used to be a stupid teen boy.” Steve says, trying again to get you to say something. To look at him, at least.

It works, a small smile turns your lips. “I never knew.”

He laughs at the sarcasm in your voice, but he plays along anyways. “Oh, I totally was. I just hid it really well by, you know, making you hate me for a while by being annoying. But hey, look at me now! I’m still annoying, but at least I have it all figured out with you.”

“And what do you have figured out, honey?” You turn your head towards him, watch the street lamps illuminate his face.

Steve smiles. “Us. Our future. Sure, I may not know if I’ll ever get a better job, but I’m sure as shit staying with you, starting a life together so that I can annoy you for all eternity.”

“How romantic,” a giggle falls from your lips. You’ve been with Steve for nearly a year now, but you haven’t really talked about the future yet. At least not so intimately, with so much assurance that in the end it’ll be the two of you. “And where will we live, Romeo?”

“New York, obviously. As soon as you graduate, we’ll find some horrible, run down apartment that’s barely big enough for two people. We’ll move in, but there won’t be any air conditioning so we’ll almost murder each other in the heat. Everyone will hate the place, but we’ll love it.”

As Steve talks, the smile that had once been on your face begins to fade. He rambles on, not noticing the shift. He dreams up the plans, how he’ll stay home while you go to class. How he’ll fix the leaky faucet that will inevitably annoy everyone. Steve envisions himself waiting for you to come home after a long day of classes and falling into his arms. 

“Steve–” But he doesn’t hear you. He’s busy explaining how he’ll probably have to sell his car to afford the apartment, but that he doesn’t care, and you feel sick. It’s too much, he’s giving up too much. He’s willing to give up his entire life for you, drop everything and follow you without any questions asked. 

It’s what your mother did for your father. They met in college, both attending Purdue. Their relationship had been a whirlwind. Love at first sight, married as soon as they graduated, your father convinced your mom to follow him back to Virginia. To abandon her family and move two states over while pregnant with you. She didn’t know anyone in Virginia, her father moved them to a small town where only his name was known. 

The divorce that followed twelve years later ruined your mother’s life. She had been left all alone, no family to support her, no friends, in a state she never grew up in.

And now Steve wants to do the same for you.

Raising your voice slightly, you try to interrupt him again. “Steve!”

“What?” He looks over at you, words finally dying. “Do you want to keep the car?”

“You… you can’t.” 

Steve frowns. “I can’t what?”

Your hands shake. Your heart trembles. Your words die in your throat. There’s so much you want to say, you can feel the pit in your stomach build into a fist. You can’t let Steve do this. He doesn’t understand that he deserves more than this. “You-you can’t come to New York.”

Everything stills. You don’t dare to breathe, to disrupt the silence. Your words come out all wrong, you know they do, but they’re out in the open and Steve doesn’t look at you as he pulls into your driveway. Silent, he turns the car’s engine off.

“Y/N…” Steve still can’t look at you. He places his hands on the steering wheel, as if bracing himself for whatever will unfold tonight. He’s scared, he doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong. His mind flashes, and for a brief second he’s back at the Halloween party and you’re Nancy in his passenger seat. “Do you not see a future with me?”

“I do!” You sit up in your seat, reach over to touch Steve’s thigh. You need to feel him, to ground yourself to him. Everything about this feels wrong. As if you’re hanging over the edge of a chasm with a long, long fall. “God, of course I see a future with you, I just-this isn’t what you really want.”

Steve doesn’t want to move to New York, even if he doesn’t realize it now. What he’s really doing is chasing after a dream that isn’t his. The timing of this is off, he fought with his dad this morning about a future he was unsure of. You know Steve, maybe even better than he knows himself; he’s not doing it for your relationship or out of love. Steve only wants to appease his father, fulfill whatever desire he thinks you have. This isn’t what he wants, and he’s worked too hard to build the life he has now, without you, to simply throw it all away.

But he can’t see that right now.

“Of course this is what I want, Y/N! All I want is you.” Steve finally looks at you, but there’s a hardness in his eyes. He’s detaching himself from you, putting his walls up. “You and me, that’s what I want.”

You grab his hand, you try to keep your voice calm. “Steve, I love you so, so much, but I can’t-I can’t let you give everything up for me. Your life is here, in Hawkins. You have a job, you have your friends and-and your family, and it wouldn’t be fair to either one of us if you abandon it for me. You could-you could resent me for it later, you could realize you hate our life and wish you never followed me and–”

“Y/N, what did you think was going to happen when you were applying to all those colleges?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, he thought you were beside him this whole time. He assumed you’d been carving out the same future he had been. But he was wrong. “Did you really think I’d just stay behind and wait for you to come home every break?”

“I…” Shamefully, you hadn't been considering what would happen between you and Steve. In your mind, he was your future, he was in it, but the details were hazy. You weren’t sure how, or why, or when, but you knew that in the end, Steve was the person you’d spend forever with. 

Steve takes your hesitancy as his answer. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Steve–”

“You were just going to leave me.”

He tears his hand from yours and you blink back tears. You’ve never fought with him before, not like this. “I wasn’t just going to leave you! I just-Steve, please just listen!”

“I am, Y/N!” Steve exclaims, voice reverberating the car. You flinch away, and he immediately lowers his voice, apologetic. He hadn’t meant to scare you, he hadn’t meant to make you cry. Ashamed, Steve turns away from you. “I-I’m sorry.” 

He wants to wipe the tears he’s caused, but selfishly he also wants you to hurt like he’s hurting. You don’t see a future with Steve. You were going to leave him just like everyone else does. 

Steve should’ve known all of this was too good to be true. 

“I love you,” your voice is almost inaudible, the three words barely reach the light before they disappear into the dark night. You’re not sure why you say them, the words had built in your chest, the pressure heavy, and you needed to release them. To remind Steve of your oath to him. 

Silence fills the car. Steve doesn’t look at you, his shoulders are drawn together. His jaw clenches and you know he’s trying desperately to bite his tongue, withholding the cruel words that only heartbreak can provoke. 

“Honey,” you beg him to say something, anything. “Steve.”

“I think you should go.”

The dismissal punches your throat, knocks the wind out of you. He’s shutting you out, closing himself off from you, and you don’t understand how the two of you got here. “I… Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Steve’s words are cool, composed. Indifferent, almost. He still doesn’t look at you, his eyes remain focused on something in your driveway. “It’s late, you should get some sleep.”

“Okay,” you don’t want to leave, you know it isn’t good to go to bed angry with the one you love. Anger should never simmer, it should never be left unwatched. But Steve is silently asking you to give him space so that he can hurt, and you aren’t selfish enough to deny his request. And yet you’re selfish enough to press your lips to Steve’s cheek, but he doesn’t lean in like how normally does. Instead, he remains stoic, and you swallow down your tears and open the door to leave. “Drive home safe, honey.”

Steve doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he starts the car as soon as the door is closed and drives away. He doesn't look back, he doesn’t wait to see if you’ve made it inside your house safely. 

Tears spill down your face as you blindly walk towards your front door. Your argument with Steve replays over and over again in your head. You analyze every second, every word, you try to understand when everything fell apart. 

It’s dark in your home, your mother is asleep and Dustin’s door is closed, but right now all you want is your brother. You need to talk to him, cry into his shoulder and smell the shampoo he’s used ever since he was a baby. Your feet carry you to Dustin’s room and you pound on his door, begging him to let you in. You don’t bother masking the tears in your voice, you’re too exhausted to hide them from him. “Dustin, please let me in.”

“Go away!” There’s a thud on the door, he’s thrown something at it to shut you up. He doesn’t want to hear some stupid lecture right now. He knows he was an asshole tonight, he regrets it, but right now all Dustin wants to do is sleep. He’ll deal with you tomorrow. 

“Code blue,” you press your forehead against the door, your tears fall to the ground. “C-code blue.” Your voice hiccups, more tears come, minutes pass, and your brother never answers.

For the first time since you were kids, Dustin rejects your request for a code blue. 

The phone rings. The sound pierces through your ears, cuts through the headache that is starting to form. It’s Friday night. Jonathan is calling. 

Squeezing your eyes shut as you head pounds, you inhale shakily. You have to answer him, otherwise he’ll only call over and over again with concern. You’ve never missed a phone call, not once in the months since Jonathan has moved, but tonight you’re exhausted. 

“Can we call tomorrow?” You’re too tired to greet him and voice cracks, revealing far too much already.

“Bug?” Jonathan’s high, he’s always high. And yet even in his cloudy haze of smoke he can hear the anguish in your voice. “Is everythin’ okay?”

His question only makes you cry more. You’ve always tried your best to put up a front for others, to pretend that everything is okay. You’ve never wanted to worry people, you’ve always pushed aside your own hurt for the sake of others. Now, as anger and grief and despair clasp their hands around your throat, you’re terrified you’ll suffocate. 

You’ve never been able to lie to Jonathan, and tonight you don’t think you can. “I’ve had… the worst night.” You confess to him, wiping away tears.

You tell him everything, your fight with Dustin, how you think he may resent you leaving for college. You tell Jonathan about Lucas, how you were so disappointed in Dustin and Mike. Choking through tears, you explain to Jonathan your fight with Steve. How your words failed you, how hurt he looked, that you can’t explain to him how he only wants his future to align with yours, but not with your relationship. 

Even though you know that Jonathan won’t remember any of this tomorrow, for once you’re grateful that he’s too high to remember anything. It feels good just being able to say it all out loud. 

“‘M sorry, bug.” Jonathan mumbles over the phone once you’ve finished explaining everything. He sounds far away, figuratively and literally. You can’t imagine how much his drugged mind retained, but you’re thankful to have gotten it all off your chest anyways. 

“It’s fine,” you inhale again, you’ve finally stopped crying, though your chest still hurts and your head still pounds. “Steve and I… We’ll figure it out.”

Jonathan pauses, and for a moment you think he’s fallen asleep, but then his voice floats through the telephone line. “Do you.. Do you ever wonder if we’ve made a mistake?”

He strings his words slowly together, says them one by one with a hesitancy, and you frown. You don’t understand what he’s trying to say. What mistakes could you have made together? “What do you mean, bee?”

“I just… everythin’ is so hard. With Nance. Feel like… like ‘m never enough for her. And you, Steve. ‘S hard between you guys.” Jonathan’s words slur, he’s almost too incoherent to understand, and later you will wish that you hadn’t been able to understand him at all. “But you ‘n me? ‘S easy. Always so easy.”

His words toe the line between you, he can’t mean any of it. You don’t want him to mean any of it, because then the fallout would be too catastrophic to contain.

He’s Jonathan. Your oldest, dearest friend. Your best friend. Years ago, you could’ve been something more, you almost were something more, but the time has passed. 

You’re with Steve now, you’re happy and so, so in love with him. Even though everything is tangled between you right now, even though you’re fighting, you know that you and Steve will figure it out. He’s the one. He’s the man you want to marry one day, if he’ll allow you to. 

Jonathan is your past, Steve is your future, and right now you’re terrified that soon you’ll lose them both.

“Jonathan,” you finally say, his name now heavy on your tongue. It feels like you’re betraying someone while saying his name, but you need to end this conversation. Before Jonathan says something he’ll regret in the morning. “You love Nancy, I love Steve, and you need to go to sleep.”

“Love you,” Jonathan’s words slur even more, his voice drifting off. “You, always you…”

You slam the phone done, ending the call, as a chill runs down your spine. Silence encases you, the house is still. The strings and threads from years ago constrict around your throat. You choke on the lines Jonathan has crossed tonight, the tightness in your head stabs against your skull. 

There is no one to hear you, no one there to hear your final words to your best friend. “Goodbye, Jonathan.”

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ i am no longer doing a taglist, my apologies ! however, please feel free to like, reblog, and comment instead :)

[darkestcorners]

polarity | 06 yandere!jungkook au ( sneak peak )

—

A/N : I decided to post this little sneak tonight since you guys have been waiting so so long. This is not edited yet so please excuse any grammar errors. Thank you💕 :)

——

“No secrets? I-I know what you did.” You accused in between sobs, your hands planted firmly on the floor as you shifted your body weight towards your right leg that left you in an awkward sitting position. It was hard to ignore the chills running down your entire body, your mind struggled to focus on what you wanted to scream at him.

He turned his head to look down at you. His penetrating gaze meeting yours at last.

“I know that you were the one that made my professor accuse me of plagiarism.” You said after another intake of breath. “ You did it, didn’t you? You blackmailed him! Just like you did to me. Just like you do to everyone in order to get your way. I don’t know with what but you did.”

He was silent. Just quietly looking at you.

Your short breaths only quickened, the horrible feeling coming in waves, stopping then gaining more force. You felt like you were stuck in a mid fall. It felt like years passed before Jungkook slowly made his way over to you, your eyes traced over the slight twitch of his fingers and cubic steel bracelet around his wrist. He bent down to your level and you felt his fingers lifting your chin up at him. You knew he could feel you shaking because he angled your face towards him again when you tried to look off to the side, his set gaze halting your rapid eye movements.

“Seems like a little birdie has been talking.” He whispered to you, he almost sounded disappointed. “That just won’t do, baby.”

You felt the sudden urge to slap him but you went to push him away instead. He caught your arms before you could do so, pushing them towards his chest and pulling your whole body closer to him. His actions were rough and careless. An indicator of just how much you’ve pissed him off this time. You could feel your teeth chattering now, your panic attack reaching its peak as you felt your vision blur. It was as if someone had poured a bucket of ice all over you except you wished someone actually had just to rid you of this feeling.

“You know she’s right, you know I’m right. That’s why you’re so upset.” You went on as you squirmed in his hold.

“How easily you’ve forgotten what she’s done to you. Is it that easy to fool you, baby? Does that bitch really have such a tight hold on you still that you that you accept her words as truth without question?” He sounded a parent scolding a small foolish child over taking sweets from a stranger.

He was wrong. Your once all-consuming love for Eunji had turned into a grudge that you couldn’t shake off. She might’ve been a horrible friend but why would she lie about something like that? It seemed too specific. It seemed like she knew more than she was willing to admit and for some reason that only angered you more. She knew more yet she had given you crumbs in return. Was that the plan all along or was she making you a victim of her selfish bitterness again? Even after everything, it was hard for you to believe she hated you that much.

Because you had seen it. You had seen a fragment of sincerity in her eyes earlier. A small piece of pity, no matter how fleeing.

“Ask your little boyfriend what he was doing walking into Professor Clark’s classroom a few weeks ago.”

You swore you had heard it in her voice too. As if she had been doing you one last favor. Granting you one last bit of kindness for all those years spent together being thrown away. But the more you ponder over it, the more Jungkook’s planted seed of doubt began to grow its roots. Had you only seen what you had hoped to?

“You accuse me of lying to you over some gossip your little fake friend filled your head with? It didn’t take long for you to go running back into her arms, did it? Where is your pride?” The disgust in his voice would be hard to fake and you had to look away from the sheer sincerity in it.

“I didn’t run back to her! I wanted answers and-"

“And did you find them?” He cut you off, eyes searching your face like something in it had already granted him the answer. “No, of course you didn’t baby. You let her have the last laugh again.”

Again.

“How would she know to make that connection and why would she lie about her seeing you walk into our professor’s classroom weeks ago.” You hissed back at him eagerly grasping to take control of the conversation that he had so easily overpowered in seconds.

God, you really couldn’t breath.

“Do you hear yourself? You’re asking me why a girl that has been jealous and spiteful towards you for years would try and scheme against you for sleeping with her ex-boyfriend! ” Jungkook sneered back and you flinched at the sudden raise of volume in his voice.

“Lying comes as easily as breathing to some. Haven’t you learned that by now? You really are more naive than I thought if you have yet to realize how unkind this world is and how often people like you get trampled over.”

You let out another quivering sob, growing more and more upset by his words. You might be naive but you weren’t that naive to not realize that he wasn’t the one who should be saying this to you. Him of all people. It felt like a stab in the chest. Jungkook lets go of your arms and brings them to cradle your face in his hands instead. His thumbs wiping away your never ending tears. His action is meant to be gentle but his grip is so tight that you feel his nails digging slightly into your skin.

“I’ve only ever tried to protect you, baby. Protect you from her and from yourself.” His hot breath sent waves of shock through you, you felt his lips lightly graze your own. “How many times must I save you from her? And from everyone who has ill intentions towards you before you realize it’s only ever going to be me.”

He lifted one hand from your cheek to carress your hair, those glossy doe eyes pulling you in and tugging at the invisible strings on your limbs and heart.

“How many times must I prove my love to you?”

This wasn’t love. It couldn’t be.

It felt like something much stronger. Much too different. Your love for Eunji had never felt this overwhelming. It never felt like you were being lulled to a perfect sleep, just to be suddenly plunged into a free fall. This didn’t feel anything like a secret held close to your chest, your heart skipping a beat everytime you used to see her even when you’d already seen her three times before that day. How giddy you felt at her accidental touches. How much you seemed to please her and never wanted to see her in pain. How easily it came to you to want to fix all her minor inconveniences.

No, this felt nothing like that. It wasn’t a secret. It didn’t allow itself to be. It was too loud. Too ugly. Whatever you had felt for Eunji, it felt five times more heightened with Jungkook. His presence felt like too much yet like there was never enough of it to actually violate you. It fit you in a way you were so frightened to admit. He had taken a piece of you that you never agreed on giving him. Yet it was that very foreign feeling that had you craving him in moments you shouldn’t have. In nearly all hours of a day. You were frightened at what you had been feeling these past two weeks sharing his space. Completely terrified at what he had managed to make you feel for him in such little time .

Even now, he felt so familiar yet so untouchable.

“This isn’t love.” You replied back in a broken whisper. It was mistake and you realized it quickly but it was too late to take it back. You blamed your overly emotional state for the thoughtless response.

A few beats of silence passed with only your uneven breaths filling the room. Jungkook continued to caress your hair before the corners of his lips twitched. An almost sad small appearing on them.

“Fine.” Another few beats of silence. The heavy air lingered.

You licked your dry lips as he retrieved his hand completely from you. Your eyes tracked the movement before they landed on the unreadable look on his face.

“ If you think I’m such a monster, I promise I will show you how easily I can make that come true for you. ” He stated lowly, dark eyes taking in your features again. “And it will make everything else I’ve done pale in comparison.”

—-

[4unnyr0se]

Hi love your writing!! I havent touched HQ in 3 years but Im starting to love old characters I use to fall in love with like Asahi, Oikawa, Bokuto etc,,, so as my first req, could you pls write fem! Reader x Bokuto fluff in HS?

Like Bokuto trying to court the reader. How would that go? And how did he finally ask us out?

Feel free to ignore this if you dont like the idea! Ty for ur time 🤍❤️🤍

❥ young love at fukurodani | kotaro bokuto

warnings: none that i can think of. this is pure fluff

MDNI | No 18+ content, I just don't want minors interacting with my blog

word count -> 1.6k

okay so aaaa this didn't rlly follow the ask bc all he does is ask reader to tutor him and then cute stuff happens but i can make a hc of it probably tonight or tomorrow?? also i wrote this when i was having tummy issues so im very sorry if its horrible. i love u!

got a request? my asks are open!

Bokuto wasn’t one to get embarrassed that easily. Sure, he did embarrassing things but didn’t know they were embarrassing. They were part of his boyish charm, which people loved about him…right? Of course, they did. He was Kotaro Bokuto. He was Fukurodani’s ace, and the people loved him for it. So why, if he was so confident, did he get awkward and embarrassed around you, his pretty classmate?

Saying you were gorgeous was an understatement. He couldn’t find the right words to describe you to his friends, mainly Akaashi. “She’s just like, y’know? And I’m like, oh damn! She’s cute as fuck!” Boktuo would make various gestures with his hands as he and Akaashi sat on the steps leading to the gym, sipping cola from the vending machine. “What do I do, Akaashi? She’s so pretty, and I’m pretty too! The only problem is that everyone else in our year thinks so, too…do I even have a shot?”

Akaashi would offer him a pitiful smile, rubbing his back in assurance. “Well, isn’t she one of the smartest in our year?”

“Yeah, smart and pretty. She’s so fucking perfect, I wish you could see her.” he pouted.

“Well, the answer is simple,” Akaashi said, standing up and stretching his arms above his head. Ask her for help with homework; god knows you need it.”

“Hey! I got a 41 on my chemistry test!” Bokuto yelled at Akaashi as the setter entered the gym. But he did have a point, like always. Bokuto decided then and there that he would ask you to tutor him tomorrow, no matter how anxious he was. Anxiety was for suckers anyway.

“Hey, wait up!” Bokuto ran after you as you exited your classroom, papers flying out of his messy bookbag that was riddled with stains from only God knows what. “I gotta ask you a question!”

You stopped walking and turned your heel, raising an eyebrow as the Fukurodani captain barreled towards you. “Hey, what’s up, Bokuto? How’s volleyball going? Are we headed to nationals?” you asked, placing a hand on your hip. God, even the way you held yourself was perfect. Were you an actual goddess, or was Bokuto just lovestruck?

Bokuto finally caught up to you, leaning against the hallway walls in an attempt to appear suave and put-together. His messy uniform didn’t help his cause, but he forgot to look neat today. And every day after that. “Uh, I was wondering if you understood what we were assigned in English yesterday? I don’t understand any of it to save my skin, hah,” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at his shoes. “Did you get what our teacher was saying?”

“Yeah, it was really simple. Just basic grammar and syntax structures. Was it complicated for you?” you tilted your head to the side.

“I don’t really get it. Wanna tutor me at my house today? I can get you snacks!” he offered you a crooked smile, leaning forward so his golden eyes peered into yours. “C’mon, please? The coach will kick my ass if I don’t get my grades up, and I have a game next week! Pretty please?” he folded his hands in prayer, his bottom lip in a childish pout.

You smiled and nodded, grabbing him off the wall. Bokuto blushed at the sudden contact, noticing how neat you kept your fingernails compared to his own. Yours were neatly polished to perfection while he bit his nails almost constantly, and being a wing spiker didn’t come with having good-looking nails. 

“Where’s your house? Is it walking distance?” you let go of his hand, much to Bokuto’s dismay. 

“Yeah, it’s about five minutes from here. Wanna stop at a convenience store on the way? I’m really hungry.” he rubbed his stomach as you two walked out the nearest exit, your messenger bag dangling over your shoulder. 

“Only if you’re paying,” you joked, rubbing his shoulder. Bokuto could have sworn his heart stopped right then and there. Were you actually flirting with him, or were you just really touchy? Either way, it was a win in his book. 

“Sure, I don’t mind. Anything for a pretty girl like yo-” Bokuto stopped his sentence, smacking his hand over his mouth. “I-I mean, why wouldn’t I mind? I’m a captain, after all. It’s my job to provide for my teammates!”

“But I’m not on any sports teams. I’m not your teammate.” you deadpanned, 

“You know what I mean!” Bokuto whined, wiping his forehead of the sweat that was slowly starting to gather. “Damn, it’s a hot one today. Why won’t they let the guys wear shorts? Do they want us to die of heat stroke or something?”

“I honestly have no idea,” you sighed, walking under the shade of the convenience store roof. “Wait a minute,” you instructed, placing your messenger bag on the hot pavement. You shrugged off your school blazer and wrapped it around your waist tightly in an attempt to cool you off. You also rolled up the sleeves of your white blouse, loosening your collar. “Sorry, I’m just really warm. At least we get to wear skirts, right?” you offered him a lopsided smile.

Bokuto’s heart pounded in his chest. “Uh, yeah, you girls are so lucky. Wearing skirts must feel awesome.”

“It’s awesome until you catch someone trying to look it up,” you mumbled in annoyance, hoisting your bag over your shoulders. 

“What the actual fuck? Who was it? I’ll murder them! I'll text Konoha too; he’ll definitely want in on it,” Bokuto clenched his fists together, walking into the store with you. “I’m sorry that happened to you, honestly.

You shrugged your shoulder and rummaged through the ice cream pin, choosing a passionfruit-flavored ice bar. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I barely know you, anyways.”

“That doesn’t mean that I can’t protect you from jerks like that guy,” Bokuto angrily shoved his hands in his pockets, tapping his foot on the tile. He fished about 400 yen out of his pocket and handed it to the cashier, ushering you out of the shop as quickly as possible. 

“What was that for?” you asked, unwrapping the popsicle. 

“I didn’t like how he looked at you, that’s all.” Bokuto huffed. He made grabby motions for your bookbag, which you handed to him with a confused look on your features. “Let me carry that, please. You’re too pretty to carry heavy stuff around like that all day.”

You paused your walk and stared at Bokuto, blushing softly. “You think I’m pretty?” 

Bokuto slowly nodded and gave you a crooked smile, blushing in turn. “Yeah, I really do. I was afraid to tell you before, but now I’m all fired up. I wanna protect you from creeps, y’know?”

You popped the ice treat out of your mouth and stepped forward, smiling softly. “We barely know each other, and you want to keep me safe? We haven’t even hung out once.”

“We’re heading to my house right now, aren’t we?” Bokuto shrugged, his blush not fading. 

You chuckled and took another step forward, the tips of your noses brushing against each other. “Yeah, I guess we are,” you whispered, your lips dangerously close to his own. “You know, I always thought you were kind of cute. In the athletic kind of way, I suppose.”

Bokuto dropped the bags he held onto the hot concrete beneath you, praying they wouldn’t roll down the hill you were standing on. You two were in a remote location, and the tension was thick. “You think I’m cute?” he tilted his head to the side, his eyelids dropping halfway. 

“Mhm,” you purred, your popsicle dripping from the intense heat. “Super cute.”

“Fuck,” Bokuto’s hands hovered above your waist, unsure of what you wanted him to do. “Uh, is it okay if I kiss you? Please, cutie?” he quietly pleaded, your lips basically touching at this point. 

You smiled and nodded, holding your melting popsicle behind your back. “Mhm, it’s okay.”

Bokuto smiled as his lips interlocked with yours for a minute, savoring the sweet passionfruit flavor that coated them. His hands squeezed your waist childishly, never wanting this moment between the two of you to end. This kiss was exactly how he dreamed it would be, soft and perfect. Just like you.

You pulled away after a bit and giggled, your popsicle having since fallen onto the heated pavement. Your sticky hands cupped his face, the pads of your thumbs running over his defined cheekbones. “You’re a good kisser,” you pecked his forehead bravely. “Like, a really good kisser.”

“Same to you, cutie,” his hands left your waist, choosing to instead secure your wrists. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that. So. Fucking. Long.”

 A chuckle escaped your lips as your hands fell to your waist again, intertwining your fingers with Bokuto’s. You had never notified it before, but he was much bigger than you. It made you feel safe and secure. Protected. “We should probably get to your house to study, shouldn’t we?” 

“Aw, I was having so much fun kissing you on the sidewalk!” Bokuto pretended to whine, kicking a loose pebble that was in his way. He easily picked up the bags with his spare hand and tossed them over his broad shoulder. 

“Tell you what,” you squeezed his hand. “For every question you get right, I’ll give you a kiss. Does that sound like a fair deal?”

“Hell yeah, it does!” Bokuto kissed you on the cheek in excitement. He practically skipped to his house with you in tow, excited for what the rest of the day would have in store.

[iovebarca]

hii, could you write something about the reader being fermins sister and is secretly dating gavi? they have these cute little secret meetups in her room but fermin then catches them and isn’t very pleased🫠 you can end the fic however you want:) (i hope for fluff tho lmao)

tyy!💞

Hidden Hearts - Pablo Gavi

Authors note: thank you for a 100 followers like thats crazyyy

Warnings: incorrect grammar (probably), my first language isn't english so if you notice any mistakes please tell me, not proofread

WC: 1350 ish

Summary: basically what the request says:))

The late afternoon sun casts a warm, golden glow through your bedroom window, illuminating the soft, pastel colors of your room. The air is filled with the scent of fresh flowers from the bouquet Pablo brought you earlier. He sits across from you on the bed, his hand gently holding yours as you talk in hushed voices, the familiarity and comfort between you undeniable. Every secret meeting with him feels like stolen moments of pure happiness.

You're both aware of the risks involved, especially living with your brother Fermín, who is not only overprotective but also Pablo's close friend. The thought of him finding out about your relationship has always been daunting. Yet, in this moment, with Pablo's warm eyes gazing into yours, the world outside seems distant.

Pablo leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. Just as you're about to deepen the kiss, you hear the unmistakable sound of the front door opening. Panic sets in, but there's no time to react. Fermín's voice calls out, "Y/N, are you home?"

Before you can even think of an excuse, the door to your bedroom swings open. Fermín stands there, his expression shifting from confusion to shock and then to anger as he takes in the scene before him. "What the hell is going on here?" he demands, his voice low and dangerous.

"Pablo, get out," Fermín says, his tone brooking no argument.

Pablo looks at you, worry etched on his face, but he nods and reluctantly leaves the room. The silence that follows is heavy and uncomfortable. Fermín turns to you, his eyes flashing with hurt and betrayal. "How long has this been going on?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Fermín, I can explain—"

"How long?" he repeats, more forcefully this time.

"Six months," you admit, tears welling up in your eyes. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Too late for that," he says coldly before turning and leaving the room.

The next few days are unbearable. Fermín barely speaks to you, and you know from Pablo that he's ignoring him at training too. The weight of the silence in the apartment feels crushing. You hate seeing your brother this way, but you also can't bear the thought of losing Pablo.

One afternoon, as Fermín heads out for training, you see him talking to Pedri. They stand by the door for a moment, and you can tell by the way Pedri glances your way that Fermín is telling him about you and Pablo. A little while later, you receive a text from Pablo saying that Fermín has been distant and cold during training, avoiding him completely.

The following evening, you’re sitting alone in the living room, the silence around you pressing in. You can't take it anymore. You grab your phone and text Pablo, asking him to meet you at the park. The same park where you shared countless secret moments.

When you arrive, Pablo is already there, sitting on the bench where you first confessed your feelings for each other. He looks up as you approach, his eyes filled with concern. "How are you holding up?" he asks softly.

"Horrible honestly," you admit, sitting down beside him. "I hate seeing Fermín like this. I hate that he's hurt."

Pablo wraps his arm around you, pulling you close. "We'll get through this," he says firmly. "We just need to give him time."

As the days pass, the tension between you, Fermín, and Pablo remains palpable. You try to go about your daily routine, but everything feels off. The laughter and easy conversation that once filled the apartment have been replaced by awkward silences and curt exchanges. One evening, you find Fermín in the kitchen, staring out the window. Gathering your courage, you approach him.

"Fermín, can we talk?" you ask quietly.

He turns to you, his expression guarded. "About what?"

"About everything," you say, your voice trembling slightly. "I hate this. I hate that you're upset and that you're hurt. But I love Pablo, and I need you to understand that."

Fermín sighs, running a hand through his hair. "It's not just about you loving him. It's about trust. You and Pablo kept this from me. That hurts."

"I know," you say, tears welling up in your eyes. "And I'm sorry. We were scared of how you'd react. We didn't want to lose you."

He looks at you for a long moment before nodding slowly. "I get it. But it's going to take time for me to get over this."

Meanwhile, at training, Pedri watches Fermín closely. He sees the way Fermín avoids Pablo, the way his shoulders tense up whenever Pablo is nearby. During a break, Pedri approaches Fermín.

"Hey, what's going on with you lately? You've been off," Pedri says, his tone gentle but firm.

Fermín sighs, running a hand through his hair. "It's Pablo and Y/N. They're dating. And they kept it from me."

Pedri nods thoughtfully. "I get that you're upset, man, but have you thought about why they might have kept it a secret? Maybe they were scared of exactly this reaction."

"They should have trusted me," Fermín mutters.

"True, but love makes people do crazy things," Pedri replies. "Do you really think Pablo would ever hurt her? And you know your sister better than anyone. If she's with Pablo, it's because she loves him. Maybe you should talk to them, understand their side."

Fermín looks down, the anger in his eyes slowly giving way to something softer. "I don't know, Pedri. It's just... hard."

"I know it is," Pedri says gently. "But pushing them away isn't going to help. You're all friends, and family. Don't let this break that."

That evening, Fermín comes home and hesitates outside your door before finally knocking. "Can we talk?" he asks, his voice much softer than before.

You nod, motioning for him to sit. He takes a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours. "I'm sorry for how I reacted. I just... I was hurt. But I realize now that I didn't give you a chance to explain."

You take his hand, squeezing it gently. "I never wanted to hurt you, Fermín. I love Pablo, but I love you too. You're my brother, and that will never change."

Fermín nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I just want you to be happy. Both of you."

Later that night, Pablo joins you and Fermín in the living room. The atmosphere is tense at first, but as the evening progresses, it starts to feel like old times. By the end of the night, Fermín pulls you both into a hug. "Let's not keep secrets anymore, okay?"

"Agreed," you and Pablo say in unison, relief flooding through you.

As the three of you sit together, laughter filling the room, Fermín suddenly turns to Pablo, his expression serious. "But Pablo, remember this: if you ever break her heart, I will break you. Understood?"

Pablo nods earnestly, "Understood. I promise I'll never hurt her."

Fermín's stern face softens into a smile. "Good. Now, let's order some pizza and enjoy the rest of the night."

In the days that follow, things slowly return to normal. Fermín starts to thaw towards Pablo during training, and the playful banter between them begins to reemerge. One afternoon, after a particularly grueling session, Fermín claps Pablo on the back.

"Good job today," he says, a genuine smile on his face.

Pablo grins, relief washing over him. "Thanks, man. Means a lot."

Back at the apartment, you and Fermín find yourselves talking more, sharing stories and laughing like you used to. One evening, as you're all sitting together, Pedri joins you, and the four of you share a meal, the camaraderie and bond stronger than ever.

As the night draws to a close, you look around at your brother, your boyfriend, and your friend, feeling a profound sense of gratitude. Despite the challenges and the initial hurt, love and understanding have prevailed.

[jaegerrb0mb]

Miss all American </3

Note: this is part two of my hot garbage fic

even if it hurts <3 and this one is just as bad and I also didn’t read over it as well.. 😐

Summary: Visiting her favorite cafe in japan reader runs into her ex bf

Warnings: jokes of being engaged, talks of marriage/having a baby, my horrible grammar, and somewhat fluff?

Pairing: ProHero! katsuki bakugou x ProHero! Fem Reader

"Hello, H/N, what can I get for you?" The cashier asks with an admiring expression, yet he is trying to play it cool that a top-ranking hero from the US is standing right in front of him. "Can I get a (your coffee or tea order) and one of those pumpkin muffins, please?" You point at the little dessert window and give the cashier a bright smile. "Yes, of course, Miss H/N," he says, moving quickly to make your order.

It’s been awhile since you were in Japan; in fact, you haven’t been here since graduation. You moved to the US quickly after finishing school when you heard there were more villains and not a lot of heroes out there, and you wanted to help in the most possible way, so you went abroad. You're out here visiting; it’s the first time you’ve been back to Japan in 5 years. You’ve been considering moving back, seeing as much as you missed it. Especially the cafe you’re in right now,

Taking a look around, it hasn’t changed one bit and still looks like it did when you were a teenager. Memories quickly flood your mind.

and you can’t help the bittersweet pain of nostalgia that burns through your chest.

"Here ya go!" The cashier hands you your order with a huge grin that pulls you out of your short thoughts. "Oh, thank you. How much will this be?" tilting your head to the side when he gives you a funny look. "Didn’t you hear me earlier? I said it was on the house." He laughs a bit at your confused expression. "Erm.. why?"

He leans over the counter a bit. "My family is from America; my mom told me a story about how you saved her life, so take it as my way of saying thank you." You smile softly at his words when he finishes. 'That explains why he recognizes me; I didn’t think anyone in Japan knew of me.

 

"Well, t-

 

"Heeey dynamight! Would you like your usual?" The cashier completely ignores you, focusing his attention fully on the male behind you. 'Dyna, wait, katsuki?' Quickly turning on your heels to face the man, it is in fact him and even more handsome than you remembered from your high school days. He’s wearing his hero uniform without the gauntlets, but it definitely has a lot of new upgrades. He's got a few scars on his arms and neck, some look old and some look more fresh; his hair is no longer the uneven choppy locks you used to love running your hands through; it's now an undercut, but the spikes still remain at the top; he always had a large, broad, and strong body, but now he looks more toned; his muscles are more defined, making him look in better shape than ever; he's a lot taller; and his eyes don’t hold as much hostility as before. He looks mature now. And a lot hotter if that were even possible.

"what’s the matter? never saw the No. 2 up close?" He taunts at you, but he gets no response except your dumbfounded expression. He steps a bit closer taking you in, his own eyes widen before turning to a more softer gaze, "l/n? Ain’t you some american hero now?" his voice is smooth as honey and It takes a second for you to gather your stunned self to try forming words "I am, I’m just visiting." he hums in response. "If you have time, I’d love to chat and catch up with you, Mr. No. 2," you joked before grabbing your stuff and making your way to a nearby table to sit so that you don’t hold up a line by the front.

Sipping from your drink and scrolling through social media on your phone, not really paying attention as you keep glancing up watching katsuki pay for his order until he finally makes his way over to you, now sitting across from you.

"So, what’s it like in America?" He asked, taking a sip of his own coffee and leaning over the table a bit. "It’s nice; I like it a lot, but I was actually thinking about- 

"Do you have a boyfriend?" He catches you off guard almost making you slice your finger as you were about to cut your pumpkin muffin. "Oh, straight to the point huh?" you laugh to play it cool, but your heart has been hammering in your chest since you laid eyes on him. "Just answ-

"no, I don’t.. I haven’t dated anyone cause I’ve been focusing on my hero work and it’s quite hard to find the time for it, you know? How bout you?" Sliding half of a muffin over to him. and taking a bite out of your half. something you always did as teenagers when the two of you came to this cafe in the middle of fall was split a pumpkin muffin. they were always out of them and you could never get your hands on them. and since you got the last one you decided to offer him half. it wasn’t anything special but you hoped it sparked the same nostalgia you’ve been feeling all day onto him. and you know it did when you catch the corners of his mouth quirk up into a small smile.

"I’m engaged."

His sentence throws you into a coughing fit as you look up to see him untuck a chain under his hero uniform from around his neck that holds a sliver ring, but he’s quick to tuck it back before you can even examine it.

he leans back crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk as he watches your coughing die down.  

"Oh, I-wow, congratulations, bakugou." Your smile is forced as you blink back tears from coughing and from pain before leaning down to take another sip of your drink, and he can tell your smile was fake as he begins to laugh. "No need to get jealous now; I’m messing with you." He untucks it again to show it to you.

It’s the promise ring you gave to him when you were 16.

You feel relieved, but your eyes still widen. "You kept it all this time? Why do you still wear it?" You quirk an eyebrow while watching as he takes a bite of his muffin and wait for him to answer.

"I guess to mess around with idiots like you." He finishes his coffee before he continues. "Well, to be honest, I never really could’ve found the heart to throw it, and it’s the only thing I've had from you since you left. Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving? You didn’t tell anyone, and you never called either. I had to find out from damn endeavor out of all people." He toys with the ring around his neck as you frown. "I couldn’t find the heart to say goodbye to you or our classmates. I felt like a jerk, but I knew it was for the better, at least at the time. I don’t know, Kats-Bakugou."

"You don’t have to correct yourself; you can call me by my first name, Miss American." He jokes, trying to make the conversation lighthearted while tucking the ring back once again. "What is your rank there anyway?"

"I’m the No. 2 hero, like you." You stick your tongue out at him before finishing the remains of your muffin. "Wow, with a brain like yours, I figured you’d be at least in the 50s," he smirked, making you lean over the table and hit him lightly. "You’re so mean, Katsuki," you pout playfully. "It’s called honesty, y/n." He laughs when you roll your eyes and slouch back in your chair. "You know you’re lucky you’re handsome, or I’d really be offended right now." You sip your drink. "Oh really? You think I’m handsome?" He rests his arms on the table, leaning forward. you smirk, coping his actions. "Yeah, but it’s too bad you’re engaged." You throw his joke back at him.

"Haha, so funny."

"You’re the one that said it, not me."

"Forget about that. Wanna come back to my place?"

"You shouldn’t cheat on your fiancé."

You smile playfully as he shakes his head, leaning in a bit more.

"The only woman I’d ever be engaged to is sitting right in front of me, but it’s too bad she decided to leave the day after graduation. not even caring to give me a phone call." he playfully clicks his tongue. "Yeah, but the phone works both ways," you shrug.

"doesn’t change the fact that you ruined my plan to take you back after school." He leans back in his chair, now crossing his arms once again. you scoffed. "That’s bullshit, and we both know that."

"Me asking you to be my wife was bullshit? I had the whole thing planned for how I was going to propose, and if you didn’t go Miss all American on me, I bet we’d be married with a baby on the way. That is what you wanted when we were together, right? to have a family young?" He makes a "tch" noise, tilting his head up at the ceiling, causing you to frown. "You shouldn’t joke about that, Katsuki."

He quickly turns his attention back to you.

"I never said I was." His words are followed by silence besides the other people around chatting, but still enough to leave thick tension in the air.

"Katsuki, I-

He suddenly reaches for your drink, taking a sip from it and taking you by surprise. "Hey! I never said you could-

"And it’s still not too late for that." his voice holding a deeper rasp as he clears his throat. "Listen, y/n, I’m going to be straight forward with you because there’s no reason for me to lie. I always loved you, and I never stopped loving you. I don’t care if you live in fuckin’ Guam, Canada, or wherever; I know I can make long-distance work for however long you want it to work. Remember back then when I said I’d take you back in a heartbeat? I still stand by that. So if you still want that future you planned with me, try giving me a call; it’s the same damn number I’ve always had." He places your drink down and gets up to leave, but you catch him by his wrist. "Didn’t you ask if I wanted to go back to your place?" giving him doe eyes while your fingers danced their way up his muscles. He leans down so he’s face-to-face with you. "Gotta finish patrol; don’t worry, babe; promise, as soon as I’m off the clock, I’ll take you there." He gives you a smug smile, turning back around to leave. You call out to him once more before he makes it through the door.

"Katsuki!" He stills but doesn’t turn. "I’m here for two weeks."

"Better be ready; I’ll make it worth your while."

With that, he went.

Tags: @sofilsword @the-dumpster-fire-of-life

[getyourdirtyhandsoffme]

Hi :) If you don't mind, could you do a SKZ Han fic about Han finding out male reader is transgender (ftm). Ofc I understand if you can't, but I really appreciate it!

‎ AUTHOR: I'm so happy, this is my first request and of course I don't mind making transgender stories, as I am a TransMan myself, I would love to do this! Thank you for requesting and I hope this story is in your expectations along with joy!

"MISUNDERSTANDING."

GENDER: FTM READER

SCENARIO: Idol Han + College Student Reader

GENRE(S): Comedy, fluff, A bit angst, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending

DYSPHORIA WARNING(S): Dead name mentioned a few times, dysphoria, feminine words/terms, and Mention the word "Pretty girl"

OTHER WARNING(S): Misunderstanding, mentions of 'Cheating' (in a more misunderstanding), Reader going throughout a breakdown and anxiety along with Jisung, mentions of crying, argument. Mentions of the words like "Cut" but not in $ucidal way. Scissors. Shouting and swearing.

Please like, comment or/and reblog! Thank you!

(I didn't really proof read or ask grammarly to fix my grammar so we just have to hope for the best!)

You hate it.

You hate the way you look.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, grabbing a fist of your long hair, you hated how it made you look too feminine.

You wanted to cut it but you fear how he would react to it.

You let go of your hair as you just tied into a bun, making it at least look like you have short hair.

You didn't want to keep it a secret to him, you loved him. He always made you laugh and always supported your careers. You even know he supported the community however, you knew he was straight.

So, you stay hidden as a 'woman' for 9 months just for him.

You were scared to lose him.

You were so lost in thought you almost didn't hear the name calling and knocking from the bathroom door.

"(Dead name)! Are you alright? You are taking so long, the popcorn is about to get cold."

(Dead name). You don't go by that name anymore, you never wanted to have that name in the first place.

Your eyes stared at the bathroom door, sighing as you walked to the door, unlocking it. You were face to face with your boyfriend, Jisung.

"Hey, baby." You responded kinda dry, trying your best to smile at him.

He looked at you, up and down, worried.

"Are you alright?"

All you can do is nod as you walk to the living room, sitting yourself down on the couch—ignoring the stares from your boyfriend.

Lost in thought, ignoring the feeling of your boyfriend next to you.

Ignoring the movie playing, it's all static to you.

Ignoring the popcorn that was placed next to you.

You ignored everything but your own thoughts.

You hated it.

These days, you have been secretly buying more men's products, hiding them underneath the clothes in your cabinet.

You brought cologne, men's clothing, boxers, shoes, everything that could help you to become what you always wanted to be.

It felt horrible keeping this a secret, hiding it from him but you were scared.

So scared.

You even secretly brought a binder as well but only wear it when you are going out by yourself or your friends who knew about you are a TransMan.

All of this fear is going on, you didn't notice how your relationship with Jisung was slacking off.

Almost like you became quite distant with him.

Lack of trust, more of fear and dysphoria.

Of course, you two still hang out from time to time, well, when he is free. Even trying to text and call more since he is a kpop idol but it felt less and dry.

Jisung was scared as well, but in the fear of losing you.

He didn't know what he did wrong as he tries his best to think of what mistakes he has made.

He kept on overthinking to the point it triggered his anxiety a few times, he had fears of you cheating on him.

He didn't want to think that but those thoughts kept on filling his brain that you were with someone else this whole time. Maybe someone better than him.

He couldn't shake this feeling off as he quickly left the studio and walked to the apartment.

Every step he takes, he fears he might see you lay next to a different man or anybody. Fears of you kissing that person along with talking bad about him behind his back.

He almost felt himself starting to cry as he walked to the apartment.

When he makes it, he walks upstairs to the second floor, going to the room number of his lover while grabbing the keys that you gave him when you both thought about sharing apartments together in their 4 months dating together.

He stands in front of the door, debating if he should barge in or knock to let them know that he is here.

His hands were shaking yet he chose to just barge in.

He quickly unlocks the front door of their shared apartment, quickly shutting behind him as he looks around.

Nothing seems suspicious besides a few photos of you and him together gone from the walls.

He frowned from that as he thinks more of the relationship between the two of you. It was either breaking up or cheating.

He shakes his head as he walks to your, or their bedroom.

He opens it to find a messy room.

A few frames that used to be framed in the living room walls, empty along with the photos of both of you together piled on top of each other on the floor.

He even noticed a few pieces of clothing that almost looked like it came out of the men's section along with shoes.

He walks around some more, looking around for any more suspicion until he finally faces the cabinets that he didn't open yet.

He opens the cabinets and looks carefully, grabbing out clothes like boxers, cologne that wasn't clearly his and a few more men's clothing. Maybe even more.

He grips the boxers.

He wanted to cry so hard but all he could think was you.

You are cheating...(?)

You walked inside the apartment, locking the door behind you.

You just got home from the library, studying for an upcoming exam happening next week.

You sighed, all you wanted to do was take a quick shower and sleep, which is exactly what you were about to do.

You change your shoes into your slippers as you speed walk to your bedroom until you stop.

You noticed your bedroom door slightly open.

You stood there, contemplating if you should run out and grab a weapon or gaslight yourself by thinking that you somehow forgot to close your door fully.

You thought the best idea was to grab a weapon, so as you turned around to do so, you heard crying.

Jisung?

You quickly opened the door, face to face with Jisung gripping your boxers, shaking.

You were shocked, feeling yourself shaken with fear.

"Wh-what are you doing here, Jiji?"

You questioned him as you slowly walked up to him, about to give him a hug until he pushed you away softly.

"Don't touch me. I knew it all along..."

What? He knew?

"What? What do you mean?" You eyes wide as you step away from him, almost like you wanted to run away from this situation.

"The photo frames, how distant you were, and now these." Jisung throws the boxers to the ground and then points at your cabinet. "I should've known! Fuck you! Why?" He shouted at you, glaring at you.

"You went through my stuff!?" You shouted back, feeling more taken back.

"Of course I did! I was worried! You felt so distant that I had a feeling you were hiding something from me and I was correct, you were hiding that something!"

You started to cry, you didn't want him to find out. Not like this.

"Please, Jisung, let's talk about this. I didn't know you were going to react like that..."

"What? You didn't know I was going to react like this? Everyone would react like this in this situation! What happened to us? What did I do wrong?" He shouts as he paces back and forward while continuing on with his words.

"I treated you kindly, I gave you love and this is what you do? You were supposed to be my girlfriend, (Dead name)! What the fuck is wrong with you!"

You shook your head as you continued on crying, even Jisung tears kept falling but his anger was rising higher from you weeping.

"Jisung, please! I can still be your girlfriend, I'm sorry! It will be over soon I promise, just give me time..."

"Soon? Soon. Are you serious? How the hell are you supposed to be my fuckin girlfriend when you can't get over that person, you damn cheater!"

Just by that, you stopped crying as you quickly looked at him, confused.

"Huh?" That's all you can say as you wipe your tears from your face.

"Don't 'Huh' me, you're literally cheating on me with someone else!"

So, this is all a misunderstanding.

You thought he knew he was trans but he actually thought you were cheating. Now you have to come out to him either way to make him stop thinking that you are cheating on him when you are actually not.

"No, I'm not. You got it all wrong..."

"Huh? But what about this!" He points to the boxers.

"Those are..." You bite your lip as you try to calm your anxiety down. You didn't want to lose him over a misunderstanding. You didn't really think you were going to be in this situation in the first place.

"Those..are mine."

Jisung stops placing around as he stares at you, his eyes bloodshot red from crying hard.

"Huh?"

"Jisung, this is not how I wanted you to find out but I didn't think you thought it THAT way. I would never cheat on you. You are literally the best boyfriend I ever have..."

You step closer to him, your eyes getting filled with more tears.

"But, you are correct about me hiding something from you and being distant. I was being a bit selfish and selfless as well. I was scared so I wanted to protect myself by distancing myself from you but even protecting our relationship from pretending to be something I'm not..."

Jisung stays quiet as he continues listening.

"I'm not...I'm not your girlfriend anymore."

"So, you are breaking up with me?"

You shook your head quickly.

"NO! Maybe I shouldn't worded it like that. I mean as in..." You sighed as you grip your arms.

"I'm not a girl, Jisung. I'm transman. I've actually been for a while until I met you. You thought I was a pretty girl and wanted to date me so I pretended to be a girl just for you. You treated me with so much care that I ignored my dysphoria, I ignored everything for you but I can't. It hurts so much to be something that I'm not..."

Jisung stood there now in shock, as he started to feel bad along with the times he called you feminine terms.

"How come you never told me this earlier...?"

You shrugged, looking down while chuckling a bit.

"I mean, how am I supposed to react to a cute guy going up to me and all of sudden calling me pretty and asking me out on a date?" You joked a bit but Jisung didn't really find it funny as he continues on feeling bad.

"You were afraid I wouldn't accept you for who you are?"

You nodded.

"Do you not trust me when I say that I love you no matter what every time I see you?"

Those words broke you. Of course you trusted him but at the same time you weren't sure.

"But, aren't you straight?"

"Not anymore..." Jisung grabs your hands. "Do I have to say it again so my own boyfriend can trust me more? I love you no matter what. I love you so much. I really do wish you told me this way earlier, all these times I hurt you and triggered your dysphoria..."

You smiled as you looked up at him who was smiling back at you.

"Boyfriend...?" You slowly said, feeling yourself smiling even wider.

"Yes, my cute boyfriend! I'm so sorry! I can't believe we almost broke up—well I almost broke up with you! Please don't do that again, my anxiety was rising too high!"

You nodded as he gave you a bunch of kisses onto your face.

"Please trust me, I love you too much to leave you."

"Of course, I'm sorry for not telling you this way earlier. I'll become more and more trustful with you and not keep anymore secrets, I'm so sorry! I love you so much!"

You both smile, holding into each other's embrace.

"Oh yeah, Jiji, since you are here. Help me clean."

Jisung groans jokingly but nods anyways as you both clean your mess.

A few months later...

"So, are you sure you want a hair cut?"

You nodded several times.

"Yes, I promise you I won't regret it like the last time." You laughed as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

"Yeah, because last time when you asked for short hair, the hair stylist accidentally, somehow, gave you a pixie cut. There isn't anything wrong with any pixie cuts but really?" Jisung commented as he wraps the towel in front of your upper body.

"Well, that's why we are doing it in our bathroom. Free and you can do my hair correctly."

"I'm an idol not a hair salonist—you might just go bald at this point."

You rolled your eyes, laughing.

"If you do make me bald, I won't hesitate to sue you."

"Yeah yeah, let me give you a nice short hair cut. You want a fade too?" He questions, grabbing a pair of scissors and a ruler (?).

"Do you even know how to do a fade...?"

"You want to find out?"

"Hell no, just give me this hair cut, good sir." You showed a picture to him.

"Of course, my prince! Anything for you! I'll make you look fabulous with this hairstyle~"

"I hope..." You side eyes him.

"Just trust me."

You rolled your eyes but nodded anyways.

You felt happy.

You didn't ignore anything around you.

You felt loved for the way you are.

"Fuck, I think I messed up, (Preferred Name)!"

"WHAT?!"

I hope this was perfect enough for you, I tried to make it more uhh whatever I was thinking about! Hope you enjoy!

Ngl, it felt like I didn't know wtf I was typing even though I planned it out a bit.

[solarisfortuneia]

— 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬.

diluc is hopeless with grocery shopping. luckily, a kind stranger is more than willing to step in and help.

✦ info: diluc has no idea what he's doing and neither does the author, modern au, strangers to lovers kinda, possibility of ooc-ness, grammar mistakes may be present, there is absolutely no logic here, 2k+ words.

✦ warnings: none.

✦ notes: well, it's this fic again! thought i'd repost it because i'm in the middle of working on a sequel. though with my time management please don't expect it to be posted anytime soon lmao (and don't worry! i still have the original taglist saved.)

would it be far fetched to call grocery shopping an art? and to call one able to navigate the labyrinthine aisles efficiently nothing short of a master? 

perhaps it would be. 

though, if it was an art, you'd be but a mediocre artist. not horribly unskilled, but no one would be in awe of your nonexistent prowess at brandishing coupons at cash registers. 

you shake your thoughts away. what are you thinking? who made you so eloquent in the middle of aisle seven? you ask yourself, gaze scanning the various items on the shelves. focus on your groceries, dummy.

okay, let's see, now. you stop in the middle of the condiments aisle, recollecting the items you need.  ah yes, ketchup and mayo. hmm, where would they be? 

aha! you see two familiar bottles on the second shelf, and you carefully place them in your cart. a glass jar with a green label and a red lid catches your eye. chili paste? you consider your potential purchase. eh, i'll get it. it's on sale.   

now, let's get some rice.

you round the corner to get to the grain aisle when you see a man, clad in a brown coat and incredibly polished shoes, with hair so red you'd think his head was on fire, just. glaring. at a bag of rice. you sneak a glance at him, wondering if the rice had wronged him in some manner.

deciding to ignore him, you pick up a five kilogram bag, then heave it into your trolley. and as you prepare to push it with the extra weight, you spy the man picking up the exact same bag, brand, weight and all. huh.

thinking nothing of it, you continue on your merry way, hoping to get your shopping done as quickly as possible, assuming that it'd be the last you'd ever see of the man.

but it appears fate had other plans. you spot him once again in the canned foods aisle, glaring at another innocent, harmless grocery item. the victim this time, you ask? a can of baked beans. 

you throw another sideways look at him, lightly tapping the pads of your fingers against the handles of your trolley. who even is this guy? you silently watch as he picks up the same brand you've put in your cart moments before. ah, he was probably just confused.

however, you’re still a little concerned about the man. does a grown man truly not know what he's doing in a grocery store? you scan the shelves for a random item, and your eyes land on a can of baby food. a light bulb goes off in your head, and you decide to test something. quickly, you grab two of them.

you open your mouth the second after he moves to get the same thing. “can i help you, sir?” he freezes at the sound of your voice, hand halfway between his body and the shelf with the exact thing you just picked up, baby food in hand. you raise an eyebrow, "are you aware of what you're buying?" 

he sheepishly rakes his hand through his hair and shakes his head. "i'm afraid i'm not." he clears his throat, color beginning to creep up his neck. 

you grin at him. “check the label on the can.” you watch as this giant of a man turns the can around, and slowly turns into a human stop sign with the way his face blazes. you know you probably shouldn’t find the sight of the man with such an intimidating expression turning to a flustered mess so adorable. 

“my apologies,” he clears his throat again, then rubs the back of his neck, eyes averted. “i’ve never been shopping before.” he sets the can back, refusing to meet your eyes.

“oh, don't tell me.” you tease, lightheartedly. “is it a case of a rich boy living on his own for the first time, without anyone to do things for him?”

the look on his face answers for him. his eyebrows nearly climb to his hairline, and he blinks. you laugh, incredibly surprised at your assumption being true. “in that case, let me help.” you hold out your hand, taking pity on the man. “do you have a list?”

he fishes out a hastily scribbled list from the depths of one of his coat pockets that simply says bread, milk. 

sigh. “it seems i have my work cut out for me.” you take a gander at the items in his cart and spot the rice, the beans, along with three varieties of bread and a two liter bottle of milk. well, at least he got the items on his list.

you pick up the bottle, skimming over the other details to find the production and expiry dates. “just out of curiosity, did you check the dates on the milk?” 

he slowly shakes his head. “i figured as much.” you gesture to the numbers, and motion for him to take a look. “this expires in two days. i doubt you’ll be able to finish the whole thing by then, so you should probably find a bottle with a more recent production date.”

—

if there ever was a god of grocery shopping, diluc ragnvindr would be the bane of his existence. 

why were these stupid stores so confusing? why were there so many brands of everything? why in the hell were there so many types of oranges? and these trolleys, good lord. just why were they so difficult to maneuver?

all the aisles blend into each other, and all diluc can do is stare emptily at each product he finds, unable to make a decision. 

he'd have better luck finding his way around if he was randomly dropped in a venetian calle.

diluc has no idea what he's doing— in the store, at home, even in life. 

living on his own for the first time since his dad passed away, in an apartment much tinier than the lavish mansion he was used to, struggling to keep his head above water, the young ragnvindr only knew ingredients once they'd been taken home and properly organized in containers and shelves. 

he'd rather the world not see him fumbling, though. so he decides to do the only logical thing one can do in his situation. he picks a person and does exactly what they do. 

after all, when one is in rome, do they not do as the romans do?

in hindsight, he should've just researched online. he should have decided his purchases earlier. or ordered the damn groceries online. because then he'd be able to avoid the embarrassment of being tricked with a can of baby food. 

baby food, of all things! why couldn't it be something a little more dignified? 

he watches you quickly replace the offending item on the shelves and push your cart in another direction before he could react. “come on, then. off to the dairy section we go.”

not wanting to be left behind in this headache inducing location, he hurriedly pushes his trolley too in an attempt to keep up with you. kaeya would never let me live that down, he thinks as he does. 

with a pang, he shoves down the memory of his brother as far and as deep as he can, choosing to focus on the present, lest he end up in another spiral.

you lead him to milk he was supposed to get, and he watches you carefully as you examine the dates on the bottles for him. moments later, you beckon him close with a curl of your palm. leaning slightly, he peers over your shoulder. 

“always try to get the one most recently produced,” you tell him, and he nods. he follows the movement of your finger tapping your chin, clearly pondering. his gaze travels a bit higher, and as he sees your lips move, he realizes that he completely missed what you were saying.

“pardon?” he stumbles ungracefully on the initial sound. 

“what's your favorite fruit?” you repeat. “that'll be first on our list on what to get for you.”

his favorite fruit? he didn't think he had one. “peaches,” he blurts, finding himself unwilling to disappoint you with his lack of proper response, his eyes falling on a peach milkshake drink. 

his ears note your change in tone, voice turning excited. “oh, they're one of my favorites too!” warmth engulfs his gloved hand and he finds himself being dragged to the produce section. 

“what about the trolleys?” he asks, mind still reeling from the sudden hand grabbing on your part.

you wave off his concerns. “oh, they'll be fine parked to the side.” you all but drag him to the peach display. “now, pay close attention, okay?”

as if he needed you to tell him that. “i'm listening,” he says. 

you pick up a peach with bruising. “when you're sorting through peaches, look for the ones with no blemishes. they don't spoil as fast. same with apples and pears and such.” now this, he knew. but he still nods along, a picture-perfect student. he sees your eyes and wonders how anyone's could be so gorgeous.

later, he dutifully nods a little more as you explain the specifics of choosing potatoes. 

“the potatoes should be firm, and there should be no signs of green,” 

should he be taking notes? he stamps the involuntary urge to hunt for a notepad in one of his pockets down, deciding he did not want to embarrass himself any more in front of you.

you seemed to glow even under the unflattering light around you, hair lit by it as you tell him about how to look for the right cauliflowers and broccoli. 

how could someone look so ethereal while standing next to onions? 

diluc ragnvindr. get. a. grip. they're only talking about vegetables. 

you ask him to tell you the price of the eggs while you sort through carrots for both him and yourself. he walks over a couple of yards, carefully examines the label and returns to report the number. 

“that much?!” you eyes widen. “my goodness, that should be considered robbery!”

...was it? he thought it was a reasonable price for a carton of eggs. still, he blindly agrees. you smile, having caught on to the fact that he had no idea what the price should be, and he can't help the pride that spreads its wings in his heart. (though he probably shouldn't be, considering why you smiled, he was glad that he was the cause of it.) 

the rest of the shopping goes in a similar manner. you tell him things. he nods, he observes another one of your features, then notes down whatever you tell him mentally. 

by the time you reach check out, both of your trolleys are filled with the exact same items in the exact same quantities. except for two items in his cart that he reached for out of instinct when he saw them on the shelf: a chocolate his brother liked, and a snack his father used to eat often. 

he contemplates leaving them behind, but decides against it at the last minute just before the cashier scans them.

he sees you reach into your pockets for a wallet, and sees an opportunity to repay you for your help. 

he's quick to pull out his own and hands his card to the cashier before you can say a word.

“i insist,” he says, when you protest. “it is only fair i do this in return for you helping me,”

you sigh, giving him another one of the smiles he had started to adore. “alright, thank you.”

the two of you walk outside the store together. cool wind ruffles both of your hair. “well, i guess this is where we part ways,” you say with a laugh and a wave. he manages a soft smile in return. 

“farewell, then.” he watches you walk away, still standing at the entrance, shopping bags in hand. "dammit." he curses under his breath.

he'd forgotten to ask for your name.

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

Hi darling today i am into angst (idk why) so this is my ask

So, creator reader was tortured and killed (by literaly everyone) so when she comes back TRAUMATIZATED OF DEATH she doesn't speaks to anyone, she doesn't scream if she is angry or so, she just cries until the persons who hurt her are not near her. She also has a fav tea(you choose darling), a comfort meal (you choose again) and a COMFORT PLUSHIE(it can be any plushie sweetie) who gets carried in the creators arms

What do you think darling?

✧*｡٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و✧*｡

Ooh, super cute idea, anon! Angst it shall be, though I can't promise I'll be any good at it lol- And sorry, idk if you want Fem!Reader, but I mainly do GN!Reader so- :')

Also, before anyone gets confused or I have to use repetitive words:

F/T = Favorite Tea F/F = Favorite Food/Meal

As for the plush, I'll simply use the basic teddy bear. I know, kind of plain—but tbh I kind of like it so we're keeping it, bois.

I hope you enjoy this oneshot!

Disclaimers! This Oneshot includes: Bad Grammar, Spelling Mistakes, Angst, Mentions of Trauma/PTSD, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of torture (briefly), & Arguments.

If you are not okay with these terms, or are facing some sort of mental illness yourself, please skip this story.

Please let me know if I mess a warning!

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭.

It was over.

It was finally over. You were finally free from that torment—that torture. You knew it the very moment you closed your eyes, and the world went dark.

Yet, Teyvat wasn't letting you go. No, it refused to let you go. You were stuck, in this stupid hellhole you once used as your get-away from reality.

You're stuck in an absolute nightmare you had once dreamed of being in. And you hate how you still feel guilty for hating it.

But, most of all, you hate how you're still stuck in this miserable world. You hate it, you hate it, you hate it.

These "acolytes" of yours were sickening. They kept begging for your attention, no matter how many times you've made it clear that you want nothing to do with them. You felt like you could keel over puking whenever they get down on their knees and beg for forgiveness.

You already forgave them. What were they continuously pestering you for? Isn't forgiveness enough to ask from their victim? The person they hurt the most?

You took a sip out of your F/T, trying to calm your nerves. Your "followers" were all nothing but heartless NPCs, you reason with yourself. You've given them enough.

And yet, you still felt guilty for ignoring them. Their eyes tear up like the day you were killed, after the most, horrible, bloody, and messy—

You shudder, shutting down that thought as best you can. You've drank all of your F/T just thinking about this entire thing to begin with, so you focused on your F/F. Only half of it was eaten.

You take a bite out of it, trying to fight away the tears as you remember another memory during your time in this wretched world. A person, out of nowhere, just straight up yelling at you, threatening you, insulting you...

You hate to feel weak, but at the same time, you feared to be too mean. So you stayed there and took it, praying that this annoying and upsetting person would just go away already.

They eventually do, but it felt too long. Your heart was broken, and your eyes just shed a tear or two. You were glad you had your teddy bear in your bag, as you cuddled it to your chest in that spot to make you feel less sad.

Truly, damn this world. Even if your heart couldn't let go just yet.

The End.

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: I have no idea if I did this good or not but I do hope you like this, anon! And, if anyone's curious for whatever reason, the GIF was chosen because it's like Reader drowning in their memories :')

✦ Check Out the Ghost Rebel's Blog Description to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

[angelicnymph]

Hello, i noticed you have a few popular artworks about characters being members of the mafia or something along those lines.

I would really like if you informed yourself about all the damaste that Mafia has done to people and places before even thinking about posting this kind of content.

It is NOT acceptable that people find Mafia bosses and such people who inflict pain to others to be attractive or even wish they were “kidnapped by a hot Italian mafia boss”.

Mafia bosses were, and still are, horrible people who caused endless pain.

And in the case that someone were to get kidnapped by one of them, they wouldn’t absolutely life a cute love story with them. They would be restlessly raped and thrown around by men, if not simply tortured and killed immediately.

In conclusion, I kindly ask you to please not post or take down the previous posts regarding Mafia, because it’s a horrible thing that everyone in their right mind hates. Good evening

P.S. I’m sorry for eventual grammar mistakes i made, as English isn’t my first language.

P.P.S. With this paragraph i mean absolutely no harm or hate, and i think your posts were made simply because you weren’t aware of how problematic, triggering and disgusting those things were.

Hi. I understand your point of view and concern but I'm writing it only for the fiction.

I assume my readers are also quite mature to differentiate between fiction and real life.

Besides most of my Mafia AU are inspired by well known books e.g EVIL BOYS, L.A RUTHLESS KING/ Vengeance on Wattpad.

I know that my content aren't for everyone and that's completely understandable.

If you are NOT comfortable with it, you can always ignore my posts or even block my account ( I'd completely understand).

I will even pay more mind to always put warnings beforehand on my posts henceforth.

Note: In the GETO SUGURU SERIES, reader isn't kidnapped or forced. They both are consenting adults who fell for each other after a proper meeting.

Suguru was frank to reader about his job and despite that, reader consensually got into a relationship with him.

It is also to be noted that Suguru never involves reader in his work. Apart from Satoru, nobody knows about reader.

-Suguru took this job only to build his finance as he was struggling with money as a child and wanted to have a good future. He does want to get out of that lifestyle and live a normal one in the future which will be revealed later.

Thank you !

[rubyrins]

*ੈ✩Cats and Cuddles-Itoshi Sae

ೃ༄wherein you pay you’re most precious attention to a cat that sae thought was a good idea to bring home

“Ooooohhhhh she’s so cute”

“don’t you think it’s time for you to let go of the cat I mean you’ve been pampering it for the past hour”

“Don’t be bitter sae it’s just it so cute I could eat her head aghhh” you’re eyes we’re sparkling with love as you looked deep into the cats eyes “what should we name her??”

“We’re not naming her any names,I shouldn’t have bring that cat home” he stood up from his chair and took the cat within you’re grasp and placed it outside you’re room

“Heyy what was that for” you ran to the door where sae blocked to stop you from going outside sae then pulled you toward his chest and hugged you wrapping both of his strong arms in you’re body

“Heyy let me go” “no”

Realization struck you like a lightning,and a smug smirk was plastered on you’re face like a sweet smile you always show ,you looked at him in the eyes meeting his bright teal eyes

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous”

“Me jealous because of a feline.” Sae scoffed,without a second wasted his face turned cold and serious like you did something horrible that he couldn’t forgive

“Yes I am jealous” ,pure shock was drawn in you’re face like it was a drawing used with a pen that can’t be erased

“Why are you jealous,I mean there’s nothing to be jealous-“ you’re words were cut of by his

“Yes there is!” “You paying that feline more attention than me makes me feel ignored ”

“You’re talking nonsense ,you ignored?! neva,you heard me boi neva” Sae chuckled from you’re remark and noticing you babble about how he was being ridiculous,this special situation made his day like a bajilion times more

“Okay,okay calm down now” without a minute spared sae lift you up with both of you’re thighs and wrapped around his waist ,and his hand on you’re back leading both of you to the bed,you were now sitting on sae’s lap as he pulled you in closer in a warm embrace as his face sink in your neck and pulled the comforter to wrap around both bodies

“Can we stay like this forever please”

“Of course,Love~”

A/n:please I’m so sorry about the wrong grammars 😭😭😭😭🌊 this is my first time and my mind wasn’t in a good place..Forgive me 😭😭

[syrcaljirk]

Disclaimer this post is completely opinion please do not try and find where I live or cancel me lol I am a teenager

so tmagp! this post is gonna contain spoilers up to the most recent episode that came out today. (mag 10)

oh also if you don't want to see criticism/negative opinions don't read this

I am, so far, um not enjoying it, to say the least.

For some context, I got into TMA just before the season finale or so? And I was excited when I heard about tmagp because I wanted to try and figure out stuff myself before it was said in series you know?

and I wanted to like it! and I do, it's really good, but every episode something has been irking me

whether it's the Fandom analyzing every single line (and I get the temptation completely I really do) or the constant callbacks to TMA when they said this show would be a good jumping in point for new listeners

But I think my main issue is the speed at which it's going, the cliche/just genuinely not very scary statements, and the characters actions themselves

Let's take this by section (please ignore my horrible horrible grammar)

Speed: this season has been so quick I keep forgetting we are on episode 10 of season 1 of 3

I get that they're going to go a bit faster than they did before because this is shorter but it's genuinely pissing me off a little bit

I have almost no emotional attachment to these characters. and that feels mean to say when so many people love them and make fic and stuff about them!

But i just really don't know them or their personalities enough to feel that sort of connection to them.

Other than Alice maybe (also why does everyone think she's evil please explain that to me if you want bc I don't see why)

Every episode feels like you're being slapped in the face with lore and it just isn't very pleasant

The show doesn't feel like TMA did and I wasn't expecting it to, really I wasn't. But I expected it to feel at least similar?

Let's get into the most recent episode. I almost hated this episode. And that is so mean of me to say I know.

Let's get into the episode thing now! I haven't been genuinely scared by a single of these episodes. Full stop no lie. Everything is so predictable including the plot and it's really messing with me. Don't get me started on some of them.

But the thing with Bonzo...it's so. Ugh. Like, I came into this expecting slow burn horror with actual tension. And this episode felt like a bad comedy bit. Maybe it's scarier to British folks because of what was his name, um, Mr Blobby?

Anyway this could be bad faith criticism and I am trying my best to enjoy this show and I am but it's. Very different. And I don't know how I feel about it.

The ending felt like a very clear "oOh cLiFfHaNgEr!" thing. I tried to care about it but I didn't feel anything. There was no tension and I didn't even hear the tape recorder. That felt cliche too.

I'm sorry if this comes off as me being an asshole or raining on your parade but this is how I feel about it. I'm a random teenager on the internet I know nothing I'm legit dumb

My opinion doesn't have to be yours, but if you do agree, let me know! I'd like this post to be a respectful place to discuss things that we didn't enjoy instead of just the positives, you know?

And there are a lot of positives! This show IS really good. But there were things I didn't like and that's okay!

[chnt-confessions]

i've never submitted to this blog before, and i truly do apologize for being negative immediatly, i'll follow it up with some positive stuff cus i have some things to saayyyy!!! (also please ignore any spelling or grammar mistakes i do genuienly struggle with that)

but i do dislike ppl who hate joshua, is he immature? yea, can he be annoying? yea, BUT THEY NEVER DISLIKE HIM NORMALLY YKNOW??? you either like him or you hate him with all your being and i think thats unfair, like is he THAT bad?? cus i never found him annoying, tbh i found him super relatable, he's just kind of immature and overdramatic, but there are much worse characters?? like i see more joshua hate than elijah. like ppl hate hearing joshua or want to beat him yet they dont want to do that with elijah?? maybe im just generalizing but its sad to see :(

on the topic of elijah, i actually really like his WRITING.... whenever i say i like elijah i mean how he's written, he's pretty realistic, the antagonists writing in chnt is great, i love the way they act and talk, like up and adam is very cool and i look forward to seeing a lot more of him!! and elijah is very well written and ryan did a very good job with the voice acting and the way elijah speaks GOD. its great, like he's GAHAHFDJFDSHD i love elijah's writing so dearly, and i feel people water him down, like he's a horrible disgusting person. like he's rlly bad and IN MY HONEST OPINION he shouldn't be shipped with ANYONE. because he is that toxic, he has terrible mood swings (and i dont mean to villinize that, but in his case, its not a good trait to have when dating.) and he's obsessive and he's a literal stalker and manipulator and he quite literally dehuminized sydney, he didnt see sydney as a person with feelings, he saw him as something to worship, and who said he wont do that to anyone else??? like yes he would be that way with joshua and up and adam and literally anyone, because he's not mentally well.

ANYWAYS SORRY FOR THE RANT!! i might use this blog again might not but its still fun to look through and the blog runner seems cool and chill!! so just know, this random anon who is obsessed with elijahs writing and rlly likes joshua is with you at all times

no need to apologize fam!! (AND ALSO THANK YEW FOR CALLING ME COOL AND CHILL)

[angie-long-legs]

rp blog for angel dust from hazbin hotel

18+ | indie | selective | carrd

♡ performed by phoenix ♡

drafts: 18

queue: 6

inbox: 5

Rules Under Cut

AGE RESTRICTION

This blog is 18+: absolutely no exceptions. I will not RP with minors, nor will I allow minors to follow or interact due to the adult content portrayed on here. If your blog does not clearly state that you are an adult, you will be blocked.

BASICS

My blog is mutuals only and selective. Standard RP etiquette is expected. I don't do exclusives, but I do have mains. I am a slow writer, please be patient with me! I don't do passwords, but rest assured I have read your rules if I've followed you. No limit to the number of threads between us. OC friendly. Crossover friendly but will require major plotting to build a workable verse. I follow duplicates but likely will not interact IC unless it's crack. Currently high activity. Do not involve me in drama or discourse.

FORMAT + LITERACY

Multi-para/novella is my preference, but I am open to single para. One-liners are reserved for asks and crack. I don't expect length-matching - I have a tendency to write a lot and I don't want to overwhelm my partners. However, mutual effort is necessary. Not bothered by literacy skill, however, if your language or grammar make it so I cannot understand you then I won't be able to write with you.

MUN =/= MUSE

Angel Dust is not a "nice" character, to put it simply. He might not be kind to your muse, even if your muse is kind to him. I will always ask if I feel he is about to say anything particularly hurtful or get physically violent. Angel will also portray views or hold ignorance that does not align with what the mun thinks, believes, or understands. This is a work of fiction.

CONTENT WARNING

This is Angel Dust - dark topics and are going to be a common occurrence. Please be mindful of your own wellbeing and/or triggers. Sexual violence, physical violence, abuse, trauma, sex work, substance abuse and addiction are all big parts of Angel’s story, and while I will do my best to tag things accordingly, if this is likely to trigger you, I would advise not to follow.

TRIGGERS AND TAGGING

I tag common triggers such as abuse and violence, but if you need anything more specific tagged, let me know! The only non-standard trigger I ask be tagged if we are mutuals is animal cruelty.

I would suggest not following if you do not want suggestive content on your dash - I try to tag it but it's a struggle with this particular muse. However, I will always tag and censor NSFW and explicit content.

NSFW

NSFW content will be present! However, I won’t write smut unless we’ve been writing together for a while, and usually with some OOC discussion to get a feel for my partner’s ideas, preferences, and boundaries. All NSFW content will be tagged, and anything explicit will be under a cut.

SHIPPING

My main ship for Angel is Huskerdust. However, I ship based on chemistry, so if our muses develop a connection, I’m open to exploring this. I prefer this to be discussed OOC if it starts heading in that direction. And, obviously, Angel Dust is gay - I will be writing him as such.

ANGEL AND VALENTINO

I love writing Angel and Val and their dynamic is intrinsic to my portrayal, but I don’t consider my particular interpretation to be shipping. Writing characters who have a toxic and abusive relationship while also acknowledging love, sex and trauma bonding as a realistic part of that relationship is, in my opinion, a nuanced approach to take when portraying abuse. I enjoy exploring the dark aspects of their dynamic as well as the lighter and more comedic ones - and, consequently, all the horrible grey areas these contradictions create.

Do not involve me in shipping discourse.

SOFT LIMITS

I consider my soft limits to be topics or actions that require permission/prior discussion before implementing into a RP. Please ask me before including the following in any thread of ours: sexual assault, mentions of CSA, suicide, self-harm, one muse causing massive injury to another, or one muse killing another.

HARD LIMITS

These are topics that I will not touch. I will not write: Non-con/graphic descriptions of sexual violence, sexual or romantic interactions with a character who is a minor, incest, zoo, or m/f ships (last one is muse-specific, obviously).

BLOCKING

I only block for age restriction reasons, bad conduct, or for posting content I find triggering to ensure my own wellbeing. If I no longer want to interact with you, I will unfollow or soft block. If we have written before and I decide to unfollow, I will message beforehand. If you prefer to be blocked to avoid accidental re-following, let me know. I have no issue with anyone blocking me for whatever reason, curate your online space as you please! It's just my personal preference to be restrictive with my blocking habits.

[ahmedmootaz]

Since Carmen and Ayin have no character profiles in the artbook like the other characters, here are my headcanons.

Carmen shares Angela's birthday on February 27, because there is something poetic and ironic about Ayin trying to bring Carmen back on her birthday through Angela and ending up giving life and sentience to Angela instead. It also adds a touch of spice and drama too if you think about it like a telenovela and imagine that Carmen died giving birth to Angela on her birthday, now both their birthdays, and Ayin becoming a wreck who can't celebrate Angel's birthday since it keeps reminding him of Carmen.

Ayin is probably such a mess he doesn't even remember his birthday anymore and neither does he even realize he's forgotten it until a year has passed and Hokma asks about when Ayin is celebrating his birthday since everybody else already did. Hokma then gets told that Ayin doesn't celebrate his birthday because he doesn't remember properly or has conflicting information of his birthday.

The Ayin-Spawn/A3/other versions of Ayin all have conflicting memories since they remember when they were 'born' differently, or that they use the dates of when they become self-aware or Ayin became aware they existed in his mind. But all of them linked to some significant date to the Lobotomy Corporation in both the meta and the in-universe sense. He doesn't care about the actual date or celebrating the day a horrible man like himself was born, so he took the easy route and just picked a date significant to his personal history, since he doesn't want to make the others sad or guilty about not celrbrating his birthday and placate their need to know when he was born since Ayin himself would have treated it like any other day.

Possible dates include August 31 (The first trailer for Lobotomy Corporatin back when they were crowdfunding and Project Moon's first name was Moon Project in 2015) or December 16 (Initial release of Lobotomy Corproration in 2016) or April 10 (Official release of Lobotomy Corporation in 2018) or November 19 (Project Moon's official anniversary) or May 05 (The date of the revamped and retranslated version of Lobotomy Corporation in 2020 after getting scammed by the translator in the past and right before the announcement and release of LOR) or maybe some other day entirely. I lean towards Ayin's birthday being PM's anniversary date personally.

Writing this at 3 AM in the morning on my glaringly bright mobile. If I have wrong grammar or spelling or logic, just ignore it

Dear Anonymous,

Honestly, I have to say: Wow! I agree with you on several elements here, especially when it comes to Carmen's birthday being the same as Angela; before LoR was fully released, I didn't quite agree with the idea, but then when I realised Carmen's voice is quite literally simply Angela's voice, I realised they were both very, very similar in a way I hadn't previously considered, and it fits Ayin immensely to give Angela the same birthday as Carmen only to have himself unable to celebrate either as his mind punishes him for what he did to both Carmen and Angela. Another day of suffering for our poor Ayin, sniff.

At least it might lead to more fluffy headcanons of Angela and Carmen having their birthdays together as mother and daughter...?

Also, for Ayin's headcanons, you hit the nail on its head my friend. I doubt Ayin celebrated his birthday even before the whole mess that led to the creation of the Lobotomy Corporation, but I also think Ayin, in a way, is very symbolic for PM, so if I had to choose a date for his birth, I'd definitely put it somewhere within the ranges you gave out.

And please, your grammar and logic was quite good! In fact, I thank you for the very wonderful headcanons, Anon! Until next time, be well, take care, and see ya'!