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#psyche freaks her out too much even
dejasenti99 · 5 months
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and what tf is going on in here . yall
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woso-dreamzzz · 9 months
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Hi Barbie
Jana Fernández x Vilamala!Reader
Summary: You're Barbie and Jana's just Ken
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"Has she stopped freaking out?" Patri asks, leaning in the doorway.
"What makes you think I'm magic?" Pina asks back with an eye roll," Nobody can stop her freaking out."
"We should just send y/n back to England. This is way too much trouble."
"No!" Jana speaks for the first time since Patri arrived, looking up at her with wild eyes. "You can't!"
"I don't think anyone can tell y/n Vilamala what to do but I'm happy that you think I have that power."
Your name was one that Jana had known for years. At nearly two years older than Bruna, you had been a staple in Jana's life ever since the two became friends.
You were...
You were everything.
You played, officially, for Barcelona but had fine-angled your way into a loan to Arsenal this year to help Codina settle in there. There was really no reason for you to do that. You had regular minutes at Barca. You were almost always in the starting eleven.
But you went anyway, just to help Laia.
Everything went well for you. You had Champions Leagues under your belt. You had awards from FIFA. You had recently been crowned a World Cup winner.
And Jana...
Jana was Jana and she felt like her entire life could be fixed by a simple smile from you.
Which was, probably, why she was freaking out so much as she waited for everybody to arrive. You were everything and she just wanted you to see her as her rather than your little sister's best friend.
"God," Pina groans, pulling Jana up and out of the room," You're hopeless."
"She's already here," Patri says," So suck it up and don't make a massive fool of yourself."
But Jana's not listening anymore, her focus entirely on you.
You're relaxed, leaning up on the back of the sofa with a drink in your hand as you chat with Paredes and Paños.
And...Jana's star struck by you.
Your hair is loose and unbound, flowing freely and you run a hand through it before taking a swig of your drink. You tip your head back to drain it all, the column of your throat bobbing as you swallow.
Everything falls into place as you catch her eye from across the room and smile.
"Ew."
Jana doesn't know when Bruna joined her but she does know that her best friend is looking at her in disgust.
"Stop staring at my sister like that. You'll give her the creeps."
Jana just sighs wistfully as you flash her another smile before re-joining your conversation again.
"You're so gross," Bruna continues," That's my sister."
"Yeah," Jana says," It must really suck for you. To be related to such perfection."
"I think I prefer you when you're not pining over her. Are you actually going to talk to her properly today or do I need to be a buffer?"
Jana turns to her friend, smoothing down her hair and straightening her clothes. "How do I look?" She asks," Presentable?"
"Like normal? I don't know."
"I'm going to talk to your sister today," Jana says," Properly. I'm going to be funny and charming and she's going to fall in love with me."
"You put in too much effort," Bruna replies, rolling her eyes," It's just my sister. She got her hand stuck in a pringle's can once. She's not worth the effort."
Jana ignores her, walking up to you just as Paredes and Paños exchange knowing looks and excuse themselves. In her head, Jana is psyching herself up. She's so focused on what she's going to say that she isn't paying attention to the fact that her laces aren't done up and trips over one, slamming right into you.
"Careful there, Jana," You say with a smile and she practically melts in your arms," I'm not around as often to catch you."
The next words out of Jana's mouth are a little embarrassing given Jana's position pressed up against you. "Hi, y/n."
But, thankfully, you seem to find it amusing. "Hi, Jana."
You're smiling at her again and all thoughts have emptied out of Jana's head as she offers her own smile back. You help her right herself but your hand on her waist never leaves even as Patri and Pina arrive to talk.
They both exchange mischievous grins and flashing smiles that promise teasing.
"How's your day been, y/n?" Patri asks," How was the flight?"
"The flight was fine," You reply, always sunningly optimistic," I have a great day every day."
Pina snickers. "Jana only has a great day if you look at her."
You laugh as Jana's cheeks flush. "I doubt that," You say," Girls like Jana always have great days. She's so talented and special. Girls like Jana never have bad days."
Your compliments make her feel like a tomato and she hides her face in your shoulder before immediately realising it was the wrong idea because your hand comes up to cup the back of her head to keep her there.
Patri and Pina laugh loudly before backing away with playful grins.
"You don't need to be embarrassed," You say once they're gone," Patri and Pina are silly sometimes but they don't mean any harm."
Jana's brain short circuits as she pulls away from your shoulder to look at you. All she can think of is one thing so she says it. "Hi, y/n."
You smile at her in amusement. "Hi, Jana." You brush some of her hair out of her face. "Do we get to have a conversation or are we just going to say hello to each other all day?"
Jana opens her mouth to respond (even though she has no response lined up for you) but Bruna cuts in smoothly.
"You two should go on a date," Your sister says," y/n, Jana's been crushing on you since you first met. Jana, y/n was never going to make the first move so you need to sort out everything."
You make a little squeaking sound in shock before you bat Bruna away.
"Don't mind her," You say," Mama dropped her on the head a few too many times as a baby. She doesn't always think when she speaks."
"It's fine," Jana manages to say, grabbing at enough of her brain cells to form a coherent sentence. She also grabs enough to realise that this is her chance to ask you out on a date.
Only...she doesn't ask.
She grasps your hand tightly and says," We will date."
It's horrifyingly embarrassing because practically everyone has been eavesdropping so now, the whole room is filled with laughter.
Everyone's laughing but you.
You squeeze her hand. "You're very forward, Jana," You say, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek," I like that. Okay. Let's date."
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Uranus and why your life is a ShiT ShoW > URANUS IN Yer HOUSe <
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Uranus in the FIrst - You are the most unpredictable little fuck-head that everyone loves. They always change > there clothes, there direction in life > their hair colour. they thrive in change unless you try to change them, they are the ones changing and dont you dare change them, thats all they have left ;( Uranus in the Second. - Crazy self esteem issues. these people think they are the greatest then the worst person, also same applies to their income because they dont think they are worth much, until they invest into bitcoin and think they will be the next warren buffet. honestly the only thing stable about you is the perception of your value changing. But they love change, something to look forward to i guess Uranus in the Third your brain and communication skills are kinda fucky you know that dont you. you always know how to say something shocking, and extremely good at changing the subject of a conversation, like you dont have to say much, but what you do say just made everyone go huh what the fuck you say? its amusing tho we appreciate you Uranus in the F4urth - Emotionally avoidant, dependent, and attached personalities. They cant make their mind up on how they feel, so they experiemnt with every feeling to see if they vibe with that. mum was probably very unpredictable, and they wanna be like her. they just trying their best to forgive her <3 Uranus in the Fifth - Okay this one is the genius. This one people actually think your onto something when your showing off because you break free of every social convention, and archetype, but in the most perfect way. everyone believes your special, and you can change the vibe of a room like dat Uranus in the Sixth - what a fkn mess your life is. I had this one friend who would have 10 different drinks in his room and he would drink each one sparingly (they were all warm too). he had some serious health issues, and lets not get into his mental health okay. but yall have crazy lives and you make it that way Uranus in the Seventh - Im not a player i just fuck a lot. they choose their partners based off how interesting they are, if you can satiate their curiosity you got em. but if your boring or not worth figuring out yeah g-bye. also they just come off strange so everyone is extremely curious. they get projected on a lot but they dont mind its a good way to find out something interesting lol Uranus in the Eighth - Freaks who will do anything.... and im not just talking about sex, if they want something they'll find any way to get it. masters of attainment, even if its probably not healthy for them, they don't care if they want it they get it. then the object of their fixation changes as soon as they do get it. they are like obsessed with 'progress' but its hard to call it that sometimes Uranus in the Ninth - Clever minds who are always skipping segments of a speech, or a video to find the juicy parts. They have very quick minds that are so easily bored, but if you talk to them, they'll never not have something interesting to talk about. also when change does occur its a LOt Uranus in the Tenth - why are yalll like this. just baffling people like they know how to make an entrance and when everyone starts loooking at them, they decide to make fun of everyone by doing something a lil bit too shocking, almosst making fun of you for looking at them. gets off on shocking ya Uranus in the Eleventh - They wanna change the world, but not in a way that is practical. until it is. They have a million friends because they have a knack for understanding people, but when you ask what they want or what scares them. it just makes you rethink why your even friends with them in the first place. 12 - your crazy. and its endearing but everyone is this close to calling the cops on you or locking you up in a psyche ward. maybe tone down your retardation. we all got something going on but you take it to a whole new level.
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ahem, i’m starting to see people try to vilify javi for some of the choices he made, so i’m here to defend my boy.
“he purposefully put kate back into a triggering atmosphere and got mad at her for appropriately panicking!” first of all, he didn’t get mad at her when they didn’t get the full scan of the first tornado because kate freaked out - he visibly got frustrated, yes, but he didn’t lash out at her. if anything he probably felt awful for putting her in that situation, but he had to be professional cause of storm par, and second of all, he understands that she’s traumatized because he’s traumatized too!! just because javi wasn’t in the fucking tornado with the rest of the tamers does NOT mean he isn’t JUST as traumatized as kate is from losing three of his best friends in a freak storm. just because his way of coping with the trauma is more like jo’s in the original doesn’t mean he doesn’t harbor the same guilt kate does.
“he still has the storm par truck at the end so he’s just gonna continue being an opposing force to kate and the wranglers!” i think javi still having the lion truck doesn’t explicitly mean he’s still with storm par - as he tells scott in the scene where he dumps him that he’s done with storm par and with riggs - he likely either bought the truck from them or already has ownership of it [kate apologizing for stealing his truck], so he’s pretty plausibly not connected with storm par anymore. hell, it’s even heavily implied that javi’s working with the wranglers now, given his interactions with tyler at the airport.
“javi should’ve died in the movie!” so you want kate to have even MORE trauma on top of what she already has?? if javi had died that would’ve meant ALL of kate’s friends from the tornado tamers would be dead from tornadoes. i don’t know about you, but that would fuck SEVERELY with anybody’s psyche regarding tornadoes. in that situation, kate would be completely justified in going back to new york and never coming back, since oklahoma would be the place where four of the most important people in her life died horrific deaths. it’s GOOD that javi didn’t die and got to have a good ending alongside her, even if he was led astray because of his own guilt and didn’t make the wisest choices in who to connect himself with. he DESERVES a good ending as much as kate does, even if he coped with the trauma in not the best way.
this is just my two cents, but i HAD to talk about this because i don’t want to see people try to paint javi as the villain when he clearly isn’t.
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korereapers · 11 months
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I collaborated with the amazing @laxi0v0 for a cute little event we made in the scriddler server. This is Laxi's art about the fic I wrote, and HONESTLY HONESTLY i couldn't have asked for a better and more supportive partner. Her art is way better than I would ever dream on writing and honestly, Laxi, I'm so glad it was you bc we vibe a lot about our tastes w this ship.
The fic will be on ao3 later, but here, for you guys, before anyone else:
Jonathan takes a sip out his mug, nicely decorated with a pumpkin, the recipe of the pumpkin spice coffee perfected by him for decades. It’s warm, it tastes like fall, and it’s the start of what Jonathan considers to be the best time of the year.
It started like a small tradition for him, when he finally left home and started studying to become the psychologist he wanted to be. Halloween was to be celebrated, especially for freaks like him, abhorrent creatures that made great-granny’s skin crawl. He was proud of that, in a way. It was his moment, it still is, after all of these years, because he is still a freak, he belongs to this weather and these colors more than he belongs anywhere else. He belongs between ocher leaves and the smell of fog, the rain starting to fall over Gotham, only to leave when it’s summer again. The start of his kingdom, of the time he rules over.
Or it would be, if Edward wasn’t so adamant about going to freaking Starbucks.
He doesn’t get it, not really. A malnourished child from Georgia, surrounded by overworked kids that serve them with the most forced smile when Edward asks, yet again, for the infamous Pumpkin Spice Latte. With ice. Oatmeal milk. Whipped cream.
Jonathan wants to die.
“How is this even supposed to be spooky?”
Edward rolls his eyes, green contact lenses barely moving, as if they were starting to get glued to his irises. Which should be a bad sign, but Jonathan is, yet again, not his boyfriend’s keeper.
“Not everything has to be spooky when this time arrives, Jonathan.”
He kind of dislikes it, when he calls him by his full name. He calls him Jon when they are alone, when they are intimate, when their bodies or their hearts are entwined. He doesn’t like when he calls him Jonathan, because that means that Edward thinks he is being too bitter, complaining too much, a complete prick.
It’s not that he dislikes the stupid PSL, either, but it feels like desecrating one of his oldest traditions, and he feels as if he were betraying himself.
“Don’t you like my recipe, then? Do you dislike it so much we have to come here every single week?”
The cashier smiles at them awkwardly as Edward pays for their order, tipping the young lady generously.
“Do you have to take everything personally? I started getting here when I finally had my own money to spend. Is it that hard to just enjoy it, when I want to share it with you?”
Oh. A tradition. Jonathan distractedly drinks from his thematic glass, but says nothing.
They are really different, Edward and himself. To Edward, spending time and money like this… is almost a love language. It’s a lifestyle that he works hard to keep, having dinner in expensive places, getting coffee every time he can. Sharing it with him, because Jonathan is important to him.
Jonathan may be unable to feel fear, and his brain may be as damaged as Edward’s heart, but guilt still crawls its way into his psyche. It still makes him feel uneasy, because he cares, because he understands the feeling, because he wants to share his recipe with Edward because of the exact same reason.
He touches Edward’s hand when they sit, an apology he doesn’t utter but that can be felt in his irradiated orange eyes.
“I like it when you share time and nourishment with me.”
Edward’s expression softens, a glint of blue under the bright green contact lenses.
“Wow, when did you get emotionally aware?” his mouth says instead, and for a moment, Jonathan understands the Bat and his compulsion to punch him in the mouth.
“I’m a psychologist, Edward.”
“... right,” he mutters, his voice cheeky, still clearly a little mad, his thoughts loud. Jonathan loves that about him, his expression when he is deep in thought, when he is trying to understand something. A puzzle, a new riddle in their lives. “That recipe of yours is really important to you, too, if I’m guessing correctly.”
Jonathan nods, his eyes still on Edward’s, who seems to be feeling a little bit too shy to look at him, knowing that they are having an emotionally vulnerable moment.
“It is. I made it myself and… I want to share it with you.”
Edward does smile a little at that, his voice softer when he speaks.
“Let me try it later. I want to give it the thought and recognition it deserves.”
Jonathan’s thumb caresses Edward’s hand, his smile contagious. Like a well concocted virus.
“I would love to.”
—-------------------------------------------
Edward is pretty sure that he is (very unluckily, by the way) dating the man with the poorest taste in the world. Jonathan seems to think that he is hilarious, dressed in his usual costume, even the needles oozing toxin as he sits quietly on the couch.
There is a thing about him that Edward has always loved: how he becomes a different person when the mask is on.
They used to talk about it, back in the day, when they used to share a room in the Asylum. Jonathan felt naked without his mask, his expression dull and almost tense, devoid of what made him himself. Edward, at least, has managed to make those expressions change, the real Jon emerging from behind whatever aloof façade he tries to put on to protect himself, to pretend he is a regular human being and not the freak that makes his heart melt.
He must surely be smiling behind the mask, then. Edward can almost feel him vibrating in excitement, like a small child, and in a way, he kind of is. A reclaimed childhood, the enjoyment of a joy he wasn’t allowed to feel. He can understand that.
Still, the poorest fucking choice of a Halloween costume.
“Really, Jon? The most original idea, I have to say.”
Jonathan looks at him, and he can feel his piercing eyes even behind the mask, the expression of a predator, so dangerous it makes his face flush a little. Birds of a feather, both of them. The Scarecrow sighs, deeply, the sound distorted behind the mask. It’s creepy, he has to admit, which is probably… kind of the point.
“Like you’re one to talk, Herlock Sholmes.”
Edward gasps, indignant. His Poirot costume is nothing to be laughed at.
“Excuse me?!”
He can almost feel the smile behind the mask, because Edward knows him, he knows Jonathan is an avid reader, he knows the difference between Agatha Christie and Arthur Conan Doyle, for fuck's sake. He is doing this on purpose, to rile him up. He always is.
Edward's mind goes somewhere else, somewhere private. Somewhere where he is indeed riled up, and Jonathan touches his cheek, looking up at his face from behind the mask, Edward sitting on his lap, while long, dangerous hands go up his thigh, eyes hungry-
The doorbell rings. Edward goes back to reality, Jonathan's eyes on him as he moves towards the entrance, the tips of his ears surely blushing.
When he opens the door, he has to look down, because damn, kids sure look tinier these days. He cannot remember to be this short, this innocent, this…
Happy.
He feels Jonathan's chin on his shoulder, almost jumping in place because the man is silent like a ghost, no matter how eager he is to take part in the holiday.
One of the kids is wearing a Batman costume, and Edward tries his hardest not to roll his eyes, with better or worse success. Another kid is dressed as Harley Quinn, what makes him wonder if these parents are in need of any kind of psychological help. The youngest, a child dressed as Wonder Woman, looks at them with badly hidden mischief, and Edward feels tempted to just close the door.
"Trick or treat!" They ask in unison, and before Edward can answer, Jonathan drops a bag in front of them, full of who knows what, but the kids don't ask.
Such blissful ignorance.
"Thank you Mister Holmes! Mister Scarecrow!" The girl dressed up as Batman says, and the one dressed as Wonder Woman purses her lips in disgust.
"Poirot's moustache isn't like that. You're a fake."
The kid dressed as Harley Quinn laughs in response, taking the bag of candy and running away with Wonder Woman. The one dressed as Batman follows who Edward believes to be her sisters, and he blissfully thanks that they don't have any children.
"Please tell me the bag is full of drugs."
Jonathan chuckles a little, his arms around Edward's waist.
"Hershey's," is everything he says, his sudden lack of malice and evil intent a headache for Edward.
"Oh, Jon. Are you going soft on me?"
Jonathan's smile can be felt in the air, a predator, a killer awaiting their next victim.
"Me? Oh, darlin'..." he whispers against Edward's ear, his distorted voice making him shudder in anticipation. "Never."
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stevie-petey · 11 months
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episode two: the weirdo on maple street
Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp. “Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your review sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”
summary: you use your limited psych knowledge to help a bald girl, you force jonathan to accept $20 and he's later an ass to you, steve doesn't know what a "missing" poster looks like, and it's really hard being a single mother to now four kids.
rating: general, but there's cursing as usual and steve being... well, steve - but hes still season 1 steve so give him some time
warnings: cursing, fem!reader, use of y/n, and there's more angst in this chapter with some fighting between reader and jonathan, so fair warning.
words: 10.1k (the longest thing ive ever written)
before you swing in: i'm almost done with chapter 4, so here's a sweet treat as i cram for exams lmao. some housekeeping: should i do a tag list ? i got a few questions about it, so pls let me know soldiers. also, i feel the need to clarify that i adore nancy but for plot reasons - reader and her don't really get along (but they def will later, trust me). season 1 nancy and steve are just so silly. anyways, i hope y'all enjoy this loooong chapter. the rest definitely aren't as lengthy due to plot, but wow. i amazed myself. carry on !
-
Your jeans drip onto the Wheeler’s carpet, and you’ve definitely left a wet imprint on the couch cushion beneath you. The other boys are dripping as well, but all their attention is on the girl in front of them. 
After finding her in the woods, your motherly instincts kicked in, immediately removing your coat to place on her and gently ushering her to your bike and demanding that the boys go back to Mike’s. Your mom is home, so your house was out of the question, and it’s always been easy sneaking into the Wheeler’s, anyways. 
Once you all had made it back, you guided the girl onto the couch and sat next to her. You refuse to let her go too far from you, having no idea where she came from or why, but regardless you know she’s too young for any of it to have been good. 
Which leads you to now: wearily watching the boys stare at the girl as if she’s some science experiment, asking her a million questions a second.
Bless them and their little prepubescent minds. 
Lucas reaches out to touch her, and before you can nudge him away, Mike slaps at his hand. “Stop it! You’re freaking her out!”
“She’s freaking me out!” Lucas retaliates, which honestly? That’s fair. The girl hasn’t said anything yet, even after your multiple attempts to get her to do so. No matter how much you try, you can’t coax a response out of her. 
“I bet she’s deaf.” Your brother offers, suddenly clapping his hands to scare her, making both you and her flinch. “Not deaf…”
You roll your eyes at him. “Guys, she’s probably just really scared right now. We should give her some space,” you look at both Lucas and Dustin, “and time,” now you look at Mike. The three boys deflate a bit. 
“She’s probably cold,” Mike says after a moment of silence, and you nod at his suggestion. Seeing your agreement, he walks over to a basket of clothes and takes out some pajamas.
While Mike is away, thunder rumbles and the girl jumps, unconsciously getting closer to you. You wrap an arm around her reassuringly, making note that she doesn’t like loud noises. If anything, she’s showing more and more signs of trauma response, which makes you uneasy. You remember Hopper saying something about Will being in danger. What are the odds that this little girl was running from something as well?
“Here, these are clean.” Mike’s return breaks you from your thoughts, and you take the clothes from him and stand up. You thank him, then offer your hand to the girl. She looks at you uncertainly. 
“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “Let’s go get you dressed in some warm clothes. I’m right here, sweetheart.” 
“She’s super nice.” Dustin says, trying to help.
Lucas adds, “Yeah, you can trust her.” 
“She’s alright.” Is all Mike offers.
You give them all an appreciative smile, even if Mike is being a bit of an ass, and then you feel a small, cold hand wrap around yours. The girl stands up, looking around shyly, and you lead her to the bathroom. When you go to close the door, she stops you.
Mike has followed, seeing the interaction. “You don’t want it closed?”
Her voice is quiet, solemn. “No,”
You and Mike look at each other, and he voices what you’re thinking. “So you can speak.”
He looks excited about this new information, and you shove his head out of the doorway. She needs to get dressed. “We’ll leave the door cracked, okay?”
She nods at you, and you stand guard outside the door. It’s not that you don’t trust the boys, but Mike has only known her for ten minutes and he’s already been nicer to her than you’ve ever seen him with anyone else. The only other person he’s this soft spoken to is Will, so you’re protective of her. 
You can hear the boys discussing tonight’s events from the living area while the girl gets dressed. They sound scared, and a part of you can’t blame them. While you’re fairly certain that the girl isn’t dangerous, it’s still a creepy situation. Once again, Hopper’s new theory surrounding Will floats through your mind. This all can’t be some coincidence. 
Sighing, you approach the boys and catch a bit of the conversation. 
“Our houses become Alcatraz.” You hear Lucas saying, and you figure they’ve finally pieced together that there’s no way any of you can tell anyone about the girl. None of you were supposed to be out tonight. As much as you know you should tell an adult, you also need to be able to help Jonathan with finding Will. If your mom locks the house down, you’re doomed. 
“Lucas is right,” the boys turn to you. “We can’t go to anyone about this just yet, but I also don’t think it’s a good idea to hide her. She’s been through something terrible, it’s obvious. Tonight, I say she gets some rest. We can figure out what to do later.” 
Mike nods, for once agreeing wholeheartedly with you. “She’ll sleep here tonight-”
Dustin’s eyes widen in horror, “You’re letting a girl-”
You clamp your hand over his mouth, motioning for Mike to continue.
“Thanks, Y/N. In the morning, she sneaks around my house, goes to the front door and rings my doorbell. My mom will answer and know exactly what to do. She’ll send her back to Pennhurst,”
They think she’s from Pennhurst? You think, but don’t verbalize it.
“Or wherever she comes from. We’ll be totally in the clear! And tomorrow night, we go back out, and this time we find Will.”
You gotta hand it to Mike Wheeler, he may be a pain in the ass, but he’s a smart pain in the ass. The plan is pretty sound, so long as he follows through with it. However, it’s him following through with it that leaves you a bit unsure. 
He looks at you for approval, and you hesitantly nod. “It’s a pretty good plan, Wheeler. So long as you stick to it.” 
Lucas and Dustin nod along with you, there’s an unspoken sense of doubt that Mike will actually be able to turn the girl over to his mom. Then she walks out, dressed now in some of Nancy’s old clothes. She draws into herself when you all turn to her, shy. You walk over and offer your hand again, which she accepts. 
“Mike, go find her something to sleep on. Dustin, we gotta go soon before mom notices we’re gone.”
Both boys comply, with Mike searching for a sleeping bag and Dustin packing up his stuff. You crouch down next to the girl, so that you’re face to face, and give her a warm smile. “It was lovely meeting you. My name is Y/N, I hope Mike over there doesn’t give you a hard time tonight.” 
Mike flips you off, having heard you. “If he’s annoying,” you lean in close to her now, whispering in her ear. “You have my permission to pinch him.”
The girl giggles, finally relaxing a bit, and you warm with pride. She’ll be okay, she seems like a very resilient girl and you’ll oddly miss her. 
The two other boys are waiting for you upstairs. You all wish Mrs. Wheeler a good night and head out. Thankfully the rain has now stopped, so the bike ride home isn’t bad. You stop at Lucas’ turn to make sure he gets home safely before finally arriving at your place. As Dustin begins pedaling into your driveway, you don’t follow. 
“I’m going to go see Jonathan, he didn’t answer my calls earlier and I just…”
Dustin waves at you, not even bothering to turn around. “Yeah yeah, go see your boyfriend. If mom asks, you’re asleep.” 
“He’s not my boyfriend-”
“Are you seriously going to argue with me after I offered to cover for you?”
Your brother gives you a pointed look, and you know he’s right. “Touche.” 
Dustin goes to leave, but you quickly grab at his jacket. “Before I forget, swear to me that you’ll keep me updated if anything weird happens, okay?”
He nods at you, knowing better than to argue, and gives you a mock salute as he heads inside. 
The living room light is on when you arrive at the Byers home, despite the late hour, but you aren’t surprised. You knock on the door and wait. When no one comes, you knock again, a bit louder this time. After another few moments, the door swings open. 
Jonathan has a finger over his lips in a shushing manner, motioning to Joyce who is passed out on the couch. You nod, letting him know you understand. The two of you go to his room and when he closes the door, you finally get a good look at him. He looks worse than he did earlier, the bags under his eyes have somehow gotten darker. His hair is a mess, his eyes bloodshot. 
“You’re soaked.” Jonathan says. 
“Yeah,” he doesn’t want to talk about it yet, so you play along. “Got caught in the rain. Are some of my spare clothes still in your bottom drawer?”
He nods at you, going over and grabbing a t-shirt and pajama pants for you. You accept them gratefully and excuse yourself to the bathroom to change. Your bones are cold, the rain seemingly having penetrated the layers of your skin. In the mirror you see that your own eyes are bloodshot; you don’t look much better than Jonathan, really.
When you return Jonathan is sitting on his bed, so you join him. It’s silent between you, all you can hear is his breathing. You stare straight ahead, so does he, and you wait. You’ve only seen Jonathan like this a handful of times, where the stress and anxiety becomes too much for him. He shuts down, draws into himself, and all you can do is wait for him to return to you; he always does. 
“Mom got a call tonight.” Jonathan’s voice is hoarse, and he looks frail. You wonder if he ever did end up making the spaghetti you prepared for him.
“Who was it?”
He swallows heavily, taking a moment to respond. “She said it was Will.”
“Will?” You look at him now, searching for any signs on his face, his voice lacks emotion. By the way he stares blankly ahead, as if he’s not really present with you right now, you know that it hadn’t been Will on the other end. 
“She started freaking out, going ballistic,” his voice cracks a bit, so you take a chance and reach for his hand. He lets you take it, giving you a squeeze, before continuing. “She was screaming, begging whoever it was to give Will back.” 
Jonathan pauses again. You don’t say anything, because no words will help. He’s never been the type for comforting words, anyways. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “It wasn’t him. Lightning struck and our phone got charred. It wasn’t Will.”
Now it’s your turn to squeeze Jonathan’s hand. He doesn’t deserve any of this. None of the Byers do. Out of the entire town, they’re the family who deserves the most that life can give. Will, too good. Jonathan, too selfless. Joyce, too loving. They’re the best damn people you know. 
“I tried calming her down, but she was hysterical. She’s only asleep right now because she worked herself up too much and passed out. I’m worried she-'' Jonathan shakes his head, as if ashamed by his own words. “I’m worried she’s going crazy, Y/N.”
He’s quiet again, but you can tell he’s about to break. His knee is now bouncing up and down and his breathing has become slightly ragged. Everything from today has been building up, it was only a matter of time before he snapped. You’re also worried about Joyce, a part of you skeptical to believe her, but the little girl you found tonight in the rain? Something was definitely weird about Will’s disappearance, but you’re hesitant to tell Jonathan just yet. For all you know, she could’ve simply been a girl who got lost and will be returned to her family tomorrow. 
You don’t want to worry Jonathan any more than you need to.
“I should’ve been there for him. I shouldn’t have taken that shift.” He gasps out, and like a dam the tears begin to fall. You’re quick to pull him into a hug and he crumbles into you. His body shakes with violent sobs and he clutches at you as if afraid you’ll leave.
“You can’t blame yourself.” You whisper, stroking a hand through his hair. He cries even harder, the force of it almost enough to knock you over, so you situate yourself so that you’re fully on the bed, laying against his pillows, with Jonathan crying into your chest beside you. 
“He’s g-gone.”
“We’ll find him, I promise.” Your own tears threaten to come out, but you force them down. You have to be here for him, he needs you. The only other time Jonathan has so openly cried was when Lonnie left years ago. He’s been holding everything in since then, all those years of looking after his family, taking care of his brother, getting harassed by assholes like Tommy Hagan. 
Neither of you say anything else, and you know that Jonathan needs to let it all out. You soothe him as best as you can, running a hand through his hair, stroking his back, reassuring him over and over again that none of this is his fault until your own voice becomes hoarse. You don’t know how long you stay like this, but sometime during the night Jonathan finally falls asleep, and you follow shortly after him. 
— 
Sunlight streams through Jonathan’s spare bed sheet that he’s pinned over his window, serving as a makeshift curtain, waking you up. You stretch, careful not to wake the boy beside you, and crawl out of the bed. You’re antsy, already knowing that today will be another long day. After grabbing some clothes from your designated drawer and getting dressed, you head into the kitchen and start making a quick breakfast. Just as you’re finishing up, Jonathan comes out of his room, dressed and ready for the day.
Neither of you say anything about the night prior, instead silently working around each other in the kitchen with years of practiced ease. He hands you the salt shaker right when you need it, you grab the pieces of toast that he popped into the toaster, the two of you never once get in each other’s way. You get deja vu, remembering all the times you’ve slept over with Dustin, you and Jonathan making the boys breakfast while they slept in. 
The only indication that last night really happened is a forehead kiss from Jonathan, his lips soft against your head. Out of the two of you, you’re definitely the touchy one, so it’s always a nice surprise when he initiates the touch, and his forehead kisses were a welcome rarity. 
When the plates have been made, Joyce gets up from the couch and stumbles over to the table. You quickly help her sit down, and for the first time since Will’s disappearance you’re able to really look at her. She looks like Jonathan, only worse. The bags under her eyes are darker, her hair is more matted, and you believe she’s still wearing the same shirt you saw her in the night that Will went missing. 
“All right, mom. Breakfast is ready.” Jonathan tries to place her plate on the table, but Joyce stops him, worried about the poster of Will. 
Jonathan gives you a look and you run over to the table, grabbing the poster so that he can set the plate down. 
Joyce gives you a tired smile, “Thank you, Y/N, but I can’t eat.”
“I just need you to eat, mom.” 
“Jonathan’s right, Mrs. Byers. You need to eat, we gotta keep your strength up.” You feel like you’re talking to a child, but in a way, you suppose you are. 
The woman lights a cigarette instead, and faintly you wonder how many she’s had within the last 48 hours; you’ll need to wash your clothes when you get home. She begins to ask Jonathan to go to Xerox to make as many copies of Will’s poster as possible. You sit down in front of her, silently eating, knowing there’s no place for you in this conversation. 
It’s not that the Byers are ashamed that they have little money, but you know it’s rude to listen in. They make do with what they have, and Jonathan has never felt embarrassed with you knowing it. 
“I don’t want you to go alone,” Joyce says, causing you to speak up. 
“I’ll go with him and help hang them up, it’s no problem.” 
Jonathan turns to you. “You have that chem test, remember? I’m not letting you miss that.” 
“Shit…” you bury your face into your hands. You completely forgot about that after finding the little girl last night and dealing with Jonathan. You’ve heard about how impossible the chem exams were, and science has never been your best subject. That was Dustin’s thing, your thing was more humanities. 
“You’re the smartest person I know, you’ll ace the exam,” Jonathan reassures you before turning to his mom. “And I’ll handle the posters, it’s okay.” 
Joyce has been lost in thought during your conversation with her son, only beginning to speak again when she’s asked how many copies will be efficient. Once she starts speaking again, it’s almost like she’s physically unable to stop. She begins to ramble, finally exposing the crumbling woman that you’ve only heard about, now understanding Jonathan’s fears for her. 
“Mom-”
“If we… ten cents-”
“Mom!” Jonathan raises his voice a bit, now grabbing at his mother’s hand. “You can’t get like this, okay?”
The look on Joyce’s face kills you. She looks so lost, ashamed of her behavior, and you cast your head down; this is a private matter. Joyce profusely apologizes to him and all Jonathan can do is gently reassure her that it’s okay. All of this is okay. 
Their tender moment is interrupted by knocking on the front door, revealing Hopper on the other side. His presence makes you uneasy, so you stay in the kitchen and begin to clean up with Jonathan while Joyce attacks him with questions. 
“A little bit of trust here, alright? We’ve been searching all night.” You hear the cop say. Your hand clenches the sponge, rubbing a bit harder at the plate you’re cleaning. If they’ve been searching all night, why are they here now?
“Went all the way to Cartersville.” Ever since Will disappeared, you’ve been building a wall of hope within you that he’ll be found safe and sound. However, with every passing day, with every new situation that occurs, you can feel a piece of the wall collapse. You can feel it now; the search party went all the way to Cartersville.
“And?” Joyce asks. 
“Nothing.” The cry that Joyce lets out causes you to drop the plate you’ve been cleaning, shattering on the floor. You curse, immediately bending down to pick up the pieces. Luckily it didn’t shatter into a million bits, but you still feel horrible for breaking one of their dishes. 
Jonathan bends down as well to help, and the commotion catches Hopper’s attention. He sees you scrambling to clean up the mess and sighs with annoyance. “Does she live here or something?” 
You and Jonathan look at each other, a slight smile on your faces, and only respond to Hopper with a synchronized shrug. You basically do live at the Byers’ at this point, you have been for years now. It was the same for Jonathan: if you weren’t at his house, he was at yours. 
Joyce wipes some of her tears away. “Y/N is family, she’s here to help.” 
Hopper ignores this, instead bringing up the phone call from the night before. Joyce leads him over to the phone, and you join them once you’ve collected the remaining pieces of broken glass. When you see the phone, you can’t help but gasp. Jonathan’s words from last night are accurate, the phone is charred. 
“Storm barbecued this pretty good.” Hopper says.
Joyce waves her arms out, disbelieving. “The storm? You’re saying that that’s not… weird?”
“No, it’s weird.” Hopper begins, but you cut him off. 
“It’s really weird.”
He glares at you. You mumble a quick sorry and back away a bit while Jonathan asks if the call can be traced. Hopper focuses back on the situation at hand, informing him that it isn’t possible and then questions if Joyce even heard Will in the first place. The question makes you cringe, knowing it’ll only make Joyce more agitated and hurt.
“Flo said you just heard some breathing.” 
It’s the way he phrases the question, the way he emphasizes the word “just”, that bothers you. This woman has just lost her kid, what kind of mother wouldn’t know her own child’s breathing?
“Even if it was ‘just’ some breathing, I’d know it was my brother. Will is her son, she’d know better than anyone.” You find yourself saying. The words weren’t meant to leave your mouth, but the appreciative look Joyce casts your way outweighs the fear from Hopper’s glare. 
“It was him. It was Will, and he was scared. Then something-”
“It was probably just a prank call,” Hopper tries to reason with her, causing you to roll your eyes at him. You respect the guy, you do, but could he at least attempt to listen to Joyce?
You excuse yourself before you say anything else, heading back into the kitchen to collect the two posters you and Jonathan made. While the others talk, you grab his things and pack his bag for him. You know he’ll probably skip school today to get the copies done in time, maybe keep an eye on his mom, so you make a mental note to inform him later that you’ll help with putting the fliers up the second you’re done with the exam. He needs someone there for him. 
When you’ve grabbed the last of Jonathan’s things, Lonnie’s name is mentioned. You freeze, standing right outside the hall from them, only a wall between you. If Lonnie is somehow involved in this, you’ll kill him yourself. He was always cruel to Will, even when you were around to witness it. You hate him more than anything in this damn world. 
“It’s been long enough, I’m having him checked out.” Hopper declares, storming out of the house. 
You count to three in your head, and the second you get to three, Jonathan is following after Hopper. You knew he would, hating his father the most out of everyone who has had the displeasure of meeting him. You follow behind him, heading outside to talk to the Chief. 
“Hey, Hopper. Let me go.” 
Hopper takes a drag from his cigarette, facing the two of you. “I’m sorry?”
“To Lonnie’s,” Jonathan says, looking at you for backup.
You do your best to try. “If Will’s there, that means he probably ran away. Cops will scare the poor boy, he’ll think he’s in trouble.”
“And he’ll hide. He’s good at hiding.” Jonathan finishes for you. 
Hopper stares at you both, inhaling more smoke from his cigarette and blowing it in your direction with a curious look in his eyes. “You two are sickening to be near, you know that?”
You and Jonathan share an annoyed look. A kid is missing, and you still have to clarify that you aren’t together? “It’s not like that,” Jonathan says.
“Sure, you know cops are good at detecting lies,” Hopper approaches him now, grabbing his shoulders. For a brief second you’re afraid he’ll hurt him. “And we’re also good at finding, okay? Stay here with your mom. She needs you.” 
Hopper punches at Jonathan’s shoulder before facing you. “And you,” you brace for whatever he’s about to say, knowing you probably aren’t his favorite person at the moment. He points at Jonathan, “He needs you.”
His words hang in the air several minutes after he’s gone. You glance at Jonathan, but he doesn’t meet your eye and instead he goes back inside. You sigh, following after him because it’s what you do. Hopper’s right, he needs you. 
Jonathan’s in the living room, speaking softly to his mom when you enter. You don’t disturb them but rather snatch Jonathan’s keys from the counter and wait for him by the door. Like Joyce said, Xerox opens in about thirty minutes and you have a chem exam to take. If you leave now, you’ll be able to make the copies with him and be back in time before school.
The ride to Xerox is tense, you know Jonathan is upset that he’s been sidelined by Hopper. You also know that he’s torn between wanting to help his mom and staying out of his house as much as possible. If it weren’t for your god damn chem test you’d offer to skip and hide out at your place, but you can’t. Jonathan wouldn’t let you risk your future for him (even though you would, in a heartbeat, a million times over). 
The man at Xerox gives Jonathan a look of pity, clearly recognizing Will’s picture on the poster. It’s your favorite photo of him, smiling with all his teeth and happy as can be. From what you’ve heard, the whole town has been conducting search parties for him. Jonathan ignores the look and asks for the 200 copies to be made. 
It’s just you and him in the store as you wait for the prints to be done. The guy said it’d be about a ten minute wait so you wander around the store. Jonathan clearly is in a no talking mood, so you occupy yourself with whatever you find. You wish you’d brought your backpack to Jonathan’s last night so you could at least study a bit while waiting, but you didn’t. It’d be a miracle if you pass this exam. 
Jonathan wanders around as well, so you give a quick look around and find the employee. He’s standing over the printer when you approach. “I’d like to pay for the copies, please.”
“You can pay after they’re done-”
“No, I can’t let him see,” you point over to Jonathan, who is now looking at some stationary. “Please, just let me pay now so he can yell at me later.” 
The guy gives you a shrug, clearly not getting paid enough to care. “Okay, it’ll be $20. Just leave the money on the counter over there, the prints should be done soon.” 
You nod and do as you’re told, leaving the $20 bill on the counter while Jonathan isn’t looking. He can kill you later, right now you want to make up for not being able to help with hanging them up. There’s literally hundreds to get through, he can’t do that all alone. 
When the posters are done and Jonathan collects them, you wish the worker a good day and then wrap your arms around him and use all your strength to drag your friend into the car. He doesn't fight back at first, too confused by your actions, and you’re almost out the door before he sees the man pocket the money and wave at you. The dots connect in his head and Jonathan begins to fight against you. 
“Y/N, let me pay-”
“Nope. Not happening!”
“We both know I’m stronger-”
“Debatable, honestly, seeing as how we’re almost to your car.”
“Let go!” He tugs harshly as his arm, which you’ve got a secure hold on, causing you to stumble a bit. 
You plant your feet more firmly against the ground and use all your weight to pull the boy forward. You’re a few feet away from the car, just one more solid pull should do the trick. “Stop fighting this, Byers. I’ve already paid-”
“Which you shouldn’t have!”
“Keep fighting and drop all the posters, I dare you.”
Jonathan looks down at the posters in his spare hand, realizing that you’re right. If he doesn’t give in soon, they’ll topple over. He lets out an agitated groan, throwing his head back, and then marches over to the car to unlock it and fling himself into the driver’s seat. “Just get in.” 
You do a small victory dance and hop in the car.
“I hate you.” 
“You love me.” 
He hesitates only for a moment. “God, I hate that I do.” 
You smile, buckling your seatbelt. Jonathan pulls out of the parking lot and begins the drive to school. He’s less tense this time, at least. The small little wrestling match between the two of you seemingly did some good, then. 
When you pull up to school, you once again apologize to Jonathan for being unable to help. He waves you off, understanding. 
“It’s okay, I promise. I can’t have you failing out of high school because of me.”
You roll your eyes. “One test won’t make me become a high school dropout, Jonathan.”
He ruffles your hair, which you slap him for. “You can join me after, okay? Good luck, bug.” 
“Fine, but I’m taking some posters with me so I can hang up on my way to my locker.” 
“Deal.”
You run to your locker, flinging it open and letting out a sigh of relief when you spot your chem cards. Honestly, you really should’ve prepared better for your little sleepover at the Byers. You glance at the watch on your wrist, noting that you have roughly fifteen minutes to memorize all the elements in the periodic table as well as some chemistry definitions. 
Just peachy. 
You tie your hair up so you can focus better and grab the note cards. If you review the cards as you walk to class, you can save at least three minutes of studying time. You tuck the few remaining posters of Will under your arm and begin to head to your class, getting absorbed in all the elements and words. As you’re skimming a card about protein being K, you run into Nancy and Barb, who also seem to have the same idea as you.
“Oh, hey Y/N.” Nancy greets you, Barb waving to you as well. 
They’re being nice, so you try to make conversation. “Studying for Kaminsky’s test?”
They nod at you and Nancy sighs, “Yeah, his exams are the worst.”
You laugh a bit, for once on the same page as her. “I know. I spent last night at Jonathan’s, I completely forgot about the test until this morning. I’m screwed.”
Barb raises her eyebrows at you while Nancy suddenly looks sad. “Oh, I’m sorry about Will. I know you and him are close.” 
“Yeah, it must be hard taking care of Jonathan right now.” Barb voices. 
You give them both an awkward smile. “Thanks, I guess? It’s just, there’s still hope, so…” 
The three of you stand there as your voice trails off. It’s painfully awkward. While you’ve known Nancy since you were 12, and at some point you even called her a close friend of yours, the second you entered high school she became distant. You never blamed her for it, people simply grow up and grow apart. Now you only ever interact with her if it concerns the boys. 
Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp.
“Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your cheat sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.”
You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”
His friends laugh, but Steve has a bit of heart to look guilty, so you count that as something. His shame doesn’t last long though and the goofy and sweet boy who made sure you were okay after almost hitting you with his car is gone. 
Steve plays off the situation as if it were nothing. “Let me make it up to you, Henderson. I know you’re probably stressed out of your mind dealing with boyfriend troubles because of Bill-”
“His name is Will,” you grit out, remembering now why you dislike Steve so much. Everything was about impressing his friends, and while you can sympathize with him, it doesn’t give him an excuse to be an asshole. 
“Right, Will. Anyways, I was just about to inform Nance over here that my dad has left town on a conference and my mom’s gone with him, ‘cause, ya know, she doesn’t trust him.” 
“Good call,” Tommy says, and you glare at him. 
Steve carries on. “So, are you guys in?”
“In for what?” Nancy asks. 
“No parents, a big house?” Carol says, as if Nancy is a giant idiot.
You feel bad for her being treated so poorly by her boyfriend’s friends, so you lean in and whisper, “A party, Nancy.” Then you look at Steve. “And no, I’ll pass.” 
Steve pouts. “Can’t leave loverboy alone for a couple hours?”
You scoff, shoving the poster against his chest, using more force than probably necessary, but the satisfying grunt he lets out pleases you. “If I didn’t know you I’d say you sound jealous. Unfortunately, I do know you, and that’s exactly why I’m not interested.”
“Meow,” says Carol as she and Tommy laugh. 
You ignore her and push past the group to get to class. You’ve wasted enough time, you have to study. Steve lets you, hurt by your words, but tries to play it off, instead focusing his attention on Jonathan up ahead hanging up some posters. You both see him at the same time and as you start to approach him, you hear Steve and his group mock him. 
“God, that’s depressing.” Steve says, and you’ve never wanted to hit a man more than you do right now. 
You glance at Nancy, trying to convey your disappointment in her. She’s a nice girl, she shouldn’t be with an idiot like Harrington. Who the hell makes fun of a guy with a missing brother? Nancy doesn’t meet your eye, which pleases you. She should feel guilty. 
As you near Jonathan, Nancy calls after you to wait up. You listen, mostly because you’re surprised she even followed, and together you walk up to him. “Hey, bee. I thought you’d be long gone by now.” 
Jonathan looks up at your voice, surprised when he sees Nancy next to you. He gives you a look that you conclude is a what is she doing here? look and you can only shrug as if to say I have no clue how I ended up in this situation. 
Nancy doesn’t see this exchange. “Hey,”
“Hey,” Jonathan responds, still confused. 
Nancy looks at you uncertainly, but you refuse to leave. Screw your exam, if she even considers voicing her boyfriend’s opinions to Jonathan then you’ll personally see that she fails alongside you. “I just… I wanted to say, you know… I’m sorry, about everything.” 
Oh, she’s being nice. You’re still unimpressed, but Jonathan motions to you to stop staring her down, so you reluctantly listen. 
“Everyone’s thinking about you.”
You all turn towards Steve and his group, who are clearly listening in, and you snort at her words. “Right, obviously.” 
“Y/N.” Jonathan warns. 
“Sorry.” 
“It sucks.” Nancy continues, and you have to give her some credit. You’re being a blatant bitch, but she’s still trying. You feel a bit bad now, which honestly makes you dislike her a bit more. Damn morals. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, he’s a smart kid.” 
The bell rings, ending Nancy’s little monologue. “I have to go, chemistry test. Y/N, want to walk together?” 
She really makes it impossible to be a bitch to her. “Sure, just give me a second.”
You lean close to Jonathan and lower your voice. “Good luck with your dad, bee.” 
“How did you know I’d go-”
“Because of course you would. Now go, give him hell for me, will ya?”
Jonathan nods, relieved you aren’t pushing the topic. You know that Lonnie is a sore topic for him, for the entire Byers family, really. You only knew Lonnie for a year or so before Joyce left him, but you’ll never forget his spiteful words and the bruises that Jonathan tried to hide from you. He needs to do this alone, father and son. 
You see Nancy watching, and just to spite her you kiss Jonathan’s cheek, relishing in the fact that she looks away, and you wish him luck once again before following her to class. 
The test isn’t as bad as you’d feared, and the rest of the day goes by with relative ease. You don’t see much of Steve and his group and you’re thankful for that. Nancy also keeps her distance, no longer attempting to be all buddy buddy with you. A part of you feels bad about that, because honestly the thought of someone thinking you hate them makes you feel physically ill, but as long as Nancy is with someone like Steve, there’s not much you can do about that. 
After school you stop by all of Jonathan’s classes and collect the work he’s missed over the last few days; he has enough to worry about, so you figured you could help do some assignments for him. It’s nothing unusual, truth to be told. There was a time you were out for two weeks straight due to the flu one year and Jonathan did every one of your assignments, so it’s about time you returned the favor. 
Once you have what you need, you hang up the remaining flyers in your bag and begin your journey to work. You’ve used up all of your sick days helping the Byers, and while Mrs. Waters has insisted on letting you have more time off, you figured the distraction would be good for you. Jonathan will want some space after confronting his dad, and as much as you hated Lonnie, something told you he had nothing to do with Will. 
Just when your shift is almost done, your coworker, this young kid named Alex who you’re honestly surprised can legally work, informs you that your mom is on the phone and wants to speak with you. You stack the remaining books in your hands and thank him, walking over to pick up the call.
“Hey, mom. Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine, sweetie! I was just calling to tell ya that Dusty is at the Wheeler’s tonight for dinner, so my plan for ribs won’t work without him. I was wondering if darling Johnny could feed you tonight? I know the two of you have that little sneaky food game.” 
Your posture, once slumped over and uninterested, now straightens out. Why the hell is Dustin having dinner at the Wheeler’s? They never do that. “Uh, sure mom that won’t be an issue.”
Your mom lets out a sigh of relief. “Bless that Jonathan! I’ve always liked him…”
Your mom may be the biggest Jonathan supporter you’ve ever met. “Yeah, he’s your favorite. I know,” you shift a bit to catch Alex’s attention, mouthing to him that you need to leave work early. “Hey, did Dustin by chance say how long he’ll be at the Wheeler’s? I can swing by and pick him up after my shift.” 
“Oh, I think he’s staying the night there. He mentioned something about Mike not finishing his part of their little science project?”
They’re calling the little girl a science project now? Boys are so typical. “Oh, I see. Well, I gotta get back to work, mom. I’ll be home late tonight.”
Your mom wishes you goodbye and warns you not to be out too late. You hum, already trying to figure out the quickest route to the Wheeler’s house. You can’t say you’re surprised that Mike didn’t follow the plan, but you also can’t say you were prepared for this either. 
Alex comes back with your boss and you quickly make up a lie about not feeling well. Mrs. Waters gives you a pitying look and tells you to go. You’re incredibly grateful for her, she’s like a grandmother to you and has always been so kind. 
You quickly bike to Mike’s house, going over a grand speech in your head for the boys. Logistically speaking, you’re not sure if they can even harbor the little girl in his basement. Would it be kidnapping? Could kids even kidnap other kids? You aren’t sure and you definitely aren’t willing to find out. 
You arrive at the house just as Nancy and Barb are pulling out of the driveway, presumably to Steve’s grand house party. They wave at you awkwardly and you don’t have it in you to wave back. You park your bike next to their doorstep and knock on the door. 
“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Mrs. Wheeler asks after opening the door. 
“Oh, I was just wondering if I could hang out with the boys tonight? Jonathan’s busy and I promised Dustin I’d help with their campaign.”
Mrs. Wheeler cocks her head at you. “But I thought there was a special assembly at the school for Will? Nancy and Barb just left for it.” 
You feel your blood boil a bit. There was no assembly for Will at your school, and it was really damn low of Nancy to use his disappearance as a cover story for her stupid party. She’s known Will since he was practically a baby. You have no idea how someone could be so unaffected by a missing child, let alone one who has been at your house every damn weekend for years now. 
“Oh, that!” You force yourself to remain calm; there isn’t time to snitch on Nancy, Mrs. Wheeler would only have more questions for you. “Yeah, I’m, uh, skipping it. Jonathan doesn’t want to go, so after he’s back from his errands I’m heading over to his place to, you know, comfort him?” 
The woman stares at you for a second, trying to determine if there are any lies to your words. You’ve never been the best liar, but being the oldest Henderson child has unfortunately prepared you for being quick on your feet when needed. 
“Well, come on then. They boys just went downstairs, and if you can please remind them to bring the plate of food back up here I’d really appreciate it.”
You thank Mrs. Wheeler and let yourself in. Her words have all but solidified your suspicions: Mike kept the girl. 
When you descend the basement steps, it’s almost comical how the kids scramble to hide the girl like little cockroaches. They run around and Dustin screams something about covering her before the poor girl is being manhandled into a sheet as Mike screams at Lucas and Dustin to calm down. 
“Guys! It’s just me! Jesus!” You shout, shoving past Mike to rush over to the girl and free her from the sheets. She looks more frightened than usual, but at least she’s alive. 
“God, why am I always the one you push?”
You shush Mike, smoothing back the girl’s hair and offering her a reassuring smile. “Remember me, sweetheart?”
The girl nods and softly says, “Y/N.”
“Very good. I’m going to scream at my brother real quick, so why don’t you cover your ears for me so you don’t get too frightened?” 
“Wait, what-”
The minute her ears are covered, you turn to Dustin and begin screaming. “Are you brain dead and not understand the words ‘tell me if anything weird happens’ or do you simply lack the appropriate empathy needed for a concerned sister?”
Dustin ducks his head in shame. “Y/N, look-”
“No! I’m all for helping you guys with your adventures and whatever, but Will went missing and then she appears and Mike,” you turn to him and he hides behind a frightened Lucas. “You said you’d stick to your plan. Now tell me, did you?”
Mike shakes his head, his eyes wide. Dustin looks no better as he cowers behind the others. Lucas simply shrugs, knowing that this would happen. You never, ever, yell at the boys; the few times you have in the past, all hell had broken loose. 
“Y/N-”
“Zip it, Henderson. I’m so pissed off at you right now and if you want to make it to thirteen I suggest you keep quiet.” 
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Now, why don’t you guys catch me up on what you’ve so sweetly kept hidden from me.” It’s worded as a question, but the boys know better than to deny you. 
You sit on the ground so that you’re next to the girl and then motion for the three boys in front of you to start speaking. They look at Mike, giving him a nudge, and he hesitantly steps forward to begin speaking. “Her name is El.”
The girl, El, looks up at you and smiles. You return the smile and knock your shoulder against hers in a playful manner. “Nice to meet you, can I ask what El is short for?”
“Eleven,” she says, and you want to question the name further but the look on Mike’s face stops you. Now is not the time, you guess. 
“El, she’s… different.” Mike continues, looking around nervously. He’s acting as if someone could break in any second and snipe you guys, and a part of you doesn’t doubt it can happen. “She has these powers, like, mind control powers.”
You snort, unable to stop yourself. El looks at you, looking unoffended, seemingly expecting this reaction. However, Mike groans at you. “Y/N, this is serious. She-she knows about Will.”
At this, your smile fades and you feel an overwhelming sense of hope take over you. You find your arms wrapping around El before you can control yourself and you give her a tight hug. She stiffens in your arms and you immediately pull away. “I’m sorry, I just… sorry.”
She laughs a bit, softly saying that it’s okay. 
“Do you really know Will? Where he is?” You ask, almost too scared to say the words out loud. If she’s telling the truth… you shake your head in an attempt to dispel any false hope. You don’t know this girl, she could be lying. 
Before El can say anything else, Mike speaks for her. “She does, but there’s bad men out there who want to hurt her. I think they’re after Will, too.” 
You freeze. “Bad men?”
“Yes, this is why we didn’t want to tell you!”
“I wanted to tell her,” Lucas says, which causes Mike to glare at him.
You wave your arms at the two boys, breaking up their fight. “Mike, what do you mean by bad men? Honey,” you look at El, “did someone hurt you? Are you in danger? Should I call the police?”
“No!” All three boys shout at once. 
You look at them, at the genuine fear in their eyes, and sigh, “Okay, if you can give me a good reason not to call the cops, I won’t.”
“Did you not hear the part about El having powers?” Dustin asks. 
“Gee, Dustin. You’re right! It’s like her having powers is totally believable and reassuring to the situation at hand!”
“I can show you,” El speaks up. 
You all face her now. “You can?” 
She nods at you, getting up and grabbing your backpack that you threw on the ground when you walked in. She rustles through it while you and the boys look at one another. After a few seconds, El grabs one of your comic books and places it on the table. She looks at you and tilts her head, indicating for you to sit down next to her; you do as you’re told.
El straightens out your comic and then closes her eyes, going completely still. The air around you shifts and you can practically feel the static electricity encasing you; the hair on your arms stand up. The pages of the comic begin to flick up, fluttering as if someone is thumbing through them in rapid succession. You watch as the Spidey panels flash before your eyes, the pages flying faster and faster until it becomes almost frightening to be near. Then, once it gets to its last page, the comic flies up into the air and hovers for a few seconds, right in front of your face. 
“Holy shit,” you breathe out, your eyes wide. 
Just as quickly as it began, the comic drops back onto the table. You look up at El and see that her nose is now bleeding, which rips you back to reality. The chair scrapes against the ground as you get up to help her, dabbing at the blood with a tissue that had been laying on the table. 
“Do you believe us now?” Mike asks, a smug look on his face. 
You gently wipe away the remaining blood from El’s face, looking her in the eye and directing your words to her. “I’m listening, sweetheart. What can you do to help us find Will?” 
El smiles, pleased to have earned your trust, and you get the feeling that this little girl is the most powerful thing in all of Hawkins, maybe even the world. At her request, Mike places his DnD board on the table and arranges the pieces for El to use. She sits down and closes her eyes once more.
Lucas gives you a doubtful look. “What’s the weirdo doing?”
You flick his head, not enjoying the name calling. Honestly, you thought you raised these boys better than that. 
El seems to accomplish whatever she was doing and picks up the wizard piece, murmuring, “Will.” 
You feel your heart stop. Will always insisted on being the wizard whenever they played the game. He was Will the Wise, forever and always. El couldn’t have simply guessed that, and you know it’s her-
“Superpowers,” Dustin finishes your thought for you. The two of you exchange a glance and you notice the slight glee in his eyes. Under different circumstances, you’d also find this all pretty cool. 
Mike sits next to El and begins to ask some questions about where she last saw Will. She gives him a look that you can’t quite decipher before swiping her arm across the table and spilling the pieces onto the floor. She then flips the board over, having it now face upside down, and places Will’s piece back down. 
You knit your brows together, trying to follow along. El’s movements are methodical and carefully planned, being unable to find the right words due to her poor speech, and you try to piece together the information you’ve been given. 
“I don’t understand,” Mike says, being extra gentle with El. You’ve never seen him so soft spoken before and you’re grateful at least one of the boys doesn’t view her as some monster. Which reminds you that you need to have a conversation with Dustin about respecting women, but for now you’ll hold off.
“Hiding.” says El. 
He’s good at hiding, Jonathan’s words echo in your head. 
“Will is hiding?” 
El nods, now looking more nervous. You can tell that Mike is getting closer to information that she doesn’t want him near, which finally causes you to ask the question that’s been heavily on your mind. “From the bad men?”
Now El gives a slight shake of the head, and Mike presses on. “Then from who?”
Without saying anything, El places a second piece onto the board right in front of Will’s. It’s a piece you’re unfamiliar with, with two snake-like heads that loom over the small wizard piece. Whatever it is, you know it isn’t good judging the way Mike, Dustin, and Lucas look at each other in fear.
You turn to Dustin and whisper, “What’s that piece?”
Your brother puts his hands behind his head and sighs deeply, a new resigned look on his face. He looks as if he’s just aged thirty years, which you find a bit dramatic. “It’s the Demogorgon.”
“The Demo-what?” The name sounds familiar, but you can’t remember anything about it.
Mike looks at you and for once his voice holds no annoyance when he says, “There’s a lot we still have to catch you up on.”
– 
Your head is spinning as you bike to Jonathan’s with all the new information you’ve just received. Demogorgons, magical vortexes, kids with damn superpowers. It’s all a lot for you to take in, and while you fully believe that El is something entirely different from a normal little girl, how can you be sure that it’s connected to Will? While his disappearance still confuses you, it’s illogical to jump to supernatural conclusions. 
Dustin had begged you to let him spend the night at Mikes in order to keep talking to El, and you only agreed because you figured you’d be at Jonathan’s again tonight anyways. He’s been MIA all day and you’re worried as usual, but you made him and Mike swear to you that they’d stay put in the house. At least this way they’re in one place, so if they screw around they’ll be easier to find. 
When you arrive at the Byers home you notice that Jonathan’s car isn’t in the driveway, which only confuses you further. Where the hell is he? You gave him all day to deal with Lonnie and cool off, trusting that he wouldn’t do anything stupid for twelve hours, and yet… 
You fear he’s done something stupid. 
You don’t have time to think too much about Jonathan’s absence because a frantic Joyce runs out the door screaming. She runs straight past you and into her car, and the house begins to light up like a christmas tree. You can hear The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go, a song that Will once had on repeat for three weeks straight, and you can feel the same static electricity in the air that you felt when El used her powers in front of you. 
Joyce suddenly gets out of the car and spots you, pointing towards her house. “You see that too?”
You swallow. “Yeah,”
She nods, as if your confirmation is all she needs to determine her sanity, and then marches inside. You stand in the yard, motionless. You’re terrified, and after learning about El tonight, you don’t have it in you to discover any other supernatural beings in Hawkins at the moment. Sighing, you follow after the woman because Jonathan isn’t home and someone needs to talk her down from whatever panic attack the flashing lights have inevitably caused. 
“Mrs. Byers-” 
“Y/N, you can’t tell me there isn’t something,” Joyce waves her hands in front of her face, almost grasping at the air, “weird about all of this. That was Will’s song, the lights were flashing in Will’s room, something came out of Will’s wall-”
“Something came out of his wall?”
“Yes! I’m not… I promise I’m not crazy, okay? You saw it, please tell me you saw it.”
You bite your lip, now thinking about El. You swore to Mike you wouldn’t tell anyone about her, and honestly you’re not sure that you should tell Joyce about her right now. You’re still unsure if El is being honest with you, and you can’t just give the woman false hope for her son. It’d kill you if you were wrong about El. But seeing the lights, hearing the music, the thing in the wall… There’s something that she’s not telling you. 
“Mrs. Byers… I’m not quite sure what I saw, but we just had a bad storm and it could be faulty wiring.” 
Joyce slumps her shoulders, frustrated that you aren’t conspiring with her. You just… you can’t. Not yet. Not before you figure out what the hell El is doing in Hawkins. You refuse to worsen Joyce’s already chronic anxiety and paranoia; Jonathan would never forgive you if you fed into her delusions, but it kills you to lie to her. 
“Look, I do think that something is weird about this entire situation, “ Joyce’s face lights up, but you’re quick to add, “however, there’s no proof. You, I mean-Mrs. Byers, you’ve seen things in the past. You’re stressed, and anxious, and all the other synonyms.” 
The woman lets a few tears drop from her eyes, now embarrassed. “Maybe you’re right. I-I’m sorry, honey. I just-”
You grab her hand. “I know,”
Her smile is brittle, a ghost of the once beautiful smile she’d give you, and your heart breaks for her. 
After your conversation, Joyce excuses herself to her room. She looks even more exhausted than before, so you leave her alone and hole yourself up in Jonthan’s room. 
You glance at your watch and note the late hour; you’re starting to worry now. Jonathan didn’t mention anything besides Lonnie and the posters, so you don’t know what else he could be doing so late. He wouldn’t go searching for Will without you. 
You wake up to Jonathan returning an hour or so later, apparently having fallen asleep while waiting for him. 
“Y/N?” His voice is gruff and surprised. 
You groan and rub your eyes. “Turn the light off, bee.”
He doesn’t. “What are you doing here?”
The tone of his voice wakes you up a bit, making you sit up and look at him more clearly. His shoulders are tense, his eyes are hiding something, and his overall demeanor is hard to read. “I had something to tell you, but is everything okay?”
“You couldn't have waited until tomorrow? Y/N, this is my house, just… just get out.”
“I’m sorry?” You’re confused by his behavior, now starting to become a bit defensive and hurt by his dismissal. 
“You can’t just let yourself in whenever you please.” Jonathan puts his camera on his desk, still refusing to meet your eyes.
“Jonathan, we literally have always let ourselves into each other’s houses whenever we please.” 
He rolls his eyes at you and rips off his jacket, throwing it at you. “Get out!”
You catch the jacket before it hits you in the face. “What the hell, Jonathan!” 
“Listen, I get that you think you’re a part of the family, but you’re not. You’ve been here for days now, it’s getting old.” 
His words cut through you and leave vicious wounds against your skin. He doesn’t mean that, he can’t mean that. You and him were family. He’s never, ever insinuated anything less. He wouldn’t dare. Your Jonathan would never act like this to you, and the only time he’s ever been this cruel to you was when he accidentally dropped Lonnie’s last beer in the fridge and was too embarrassed and ashamed to ask for help; he’d shown up with bruises later that night.
Then it hits you. He did something, something that makes him feel guilty; he keeps glancing at his camera. You soften your voice, “Bee, what did you do?”
He whips around, now yelling. “Nothing! Just get the hell out of my house! It’s getting pathetic!” 
You swallow back the angry tears that build in your throat. Fine. Whatever. Let him be a raging bitch after everything you’ve done for him these last few days. 
“Fine, I will.” Grabbing your backpack you snatch the assignments you were supposed to give Jonathan and slam them against his chest. “Here’s all your fucking assignments, by the way.” 
He seems to come back to himself, blinking away the anger and shame. “Bug…”
“You don’t get to call me that.” And with that, you don’t spare Jonathan another glance. 
– 
When you get home, the house is eerily quiet. Dustin is at Mike’s and your mom leaves you a note saying that she’s spending the night at your aunt’s. Great. Looks like it’s just you and Mews tonight then. 
After everything that’s happened tonight, you never found time to eat dinner, and your stomach is loudly growling. You drop your stuff in your room and then reheat some leftovers, feeling like a pathetic child. You know that Jonathan didn’t mean what he said, but the words had come too easily to him to have just been a way to dodge his guilt. There had been some truth to them. Maybe you were pathetic for always fretting over him.
Dinner is quiet tonight. 
You wait for the phone to ring, for Jonathan to call you and apologize, but the call never comes. 
You’ve never felt so alone before.
-
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two-white-butterflies · 4 months
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parallel lines | d. targaryen | part six
Description: An ordinary middle school teacher moves to a desolate town with her fiancee. After suffering episodes of vivid nightmares, she realizes that his uncle looks exactly like the man in her dreams.
Pairings: daemon targaryen/reader, aemond targaryen/reader
Trope: Reincarnation
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<<previous chapter
"To hold on, to the days when you were mine." - Peter, Taylor Swift.
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These past few days, something has deeply changed in Daemon's psyche. He was always a neat freak, preferring to remain polished and clean on the outside while his mind was an overgrowth of plants that clouded his thoughts. He couldn't think straight then - but he kept a facade, pretending that he was sane. He wasn't.
Since seeing you in St. Joseph, he's lost all remnants of himself - the facade broke down and he was thrown into disarray. "Why is your shirt always untucked?" you chuckled, taking a step forward, as if it was second nature to fix his polo and tuck it into his pants.
"I was rushing," he found himself mumbling, confused at your sudden proximity to him. How long has it been since he's felt you? Had his fingers dance against your skin and body? You were always warm, and that was all he remembered about you.
Everything seemed to zone out in the background. He almost forgot that he was in a parking lot, and the sound of cars zoomed past him. All he could see was you, all that he could hear was you. He takes a deep breath, quickly composing himself.
"I'm sorry about what happened yesterday, Rhaenyra herself even admitted that it was wrong. We shouldn't have fought in front of a guest." he apologized, forcing a tight-lipped smile. "If I'm lucky, I won't be a guest for long." you teased, fixing the strap of the handbag on your shoulder. "Mhm." was all he could muster.
The thought of you being married to his nephew made him want to puke. It made him want to kill himself.
He senses the awkwardness, he decides to clear his throat and look at his watch. "I guess this is goodbye. I'm running late for a meeting." he lied, staring at the side. "Of course, nice talking to you." you answered, equally as awkward as his intonation.
"See you tomorrow?" he smiled, walking past you.
"See you tomorrow." you replied, but he was too far to hear.
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(ISLAND NEAR THE GHISCARIS)
Your mother descended from a long line of voyagers. Her family remained in Lyss, and life led her to Westeros. The skill of voyaging was long lost. You couldn't command a ship, even if your life depended on it - luckily, you were able to meet a group of female pirates on their way to the liberated islands near the Ghiscari Empire.
It was untouched due the large wall-like fortress that surrounded the shores. "I am surprised by your aptitude, not a lot of people appreciate the oceans well." Serenei, the woman that promised to keep you safe, handed you a cup of tea, the liquid inside of the cup was moving back and forth due to the waves.
"It's much like riding a dragon, though you shouldn't compliment me that much - I emptied my stomach a few hours ago." you giggled, remembering the reddish hue that your face turned into. Oh, your ancestors were turning in their graves. "Don't worry, it'll only be a few more hours until we reach the shores of Pharmaka." she placed a hand on your shoulder.
There was silence between the both of you, in fear of the unknown. You stared at the small round window beside you.
Would Daemon love the ocean too? You remember the War of the Stepstones. A sigh escapes your mouth, the wars have marred him and he wouldn't have loved the smell of salt air as much as you. "It's an island filled with women, not a single man is allowed." Serenei continued with a smile, and for a moment you pondered if she went though the same things that you did.
You shake your head. You wish that she didn't.
"It must be heaven, then?" Alyssandra leaned on the doorframe, trying to keep herself steady due to the treacherous waves that pumped against the ship's bodice.
"It is - utopia is what they call themselves." Serenei continued telling the story, a smile ghosts your face. Your life had turned into a story indeed, finding true love with a Dragon Prince - losing him and being forced to live through the tragedy in Harrenhal, and now you were halfway across the world, riding a ship that is going to a place that calls themself utopia.
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(ST. JOSEPH SCHOOL OF DRAGONSTONE)
The steam of your coffee littered your face with kisses, and a groan escapes your mouth. You couldn't believe that you feel asleep through your entire free period. Those dreams weren't stopping, but the scenarios were drastically changing.
At first, they were filled with love - of scenes with you and the 'Dragon Prince' then they changed into nightmares - of ones that you couldn't remember, only waking up in tears - but now, you were in a ship to some unknown island that made you feel hopeful.
Once the story ends, would you be free of those dreams? Would you be free to live your life without those headaches that forced your head open, telling you that there was something that you forgot?
AEMOND NEW SIM How are you? You haven't messaged me in a while :(
YOU sorry i fell asleep hehehahaha 😭
AEMOND NEW SIM Sleeping on duty? tskk
Daemon interrupts you from replying by sitting next to you. There was a pang in your heart, something deep inside your mind telling you to run towards him and offer him a warm embrace. Flashes from your dreams come to you. The small round window, the small of salt breeze and his lavender eyes that felt like a thousand sleepless nights cuddled by the fire.
"Congratulations." Daemon opened his mouth to speak. He stared deep into your eyes, almost peering inside your soul. There wasn't an expression in your face that he hasn't seen a million times. "For what?" you inquired with a slight smile.
"The students proficiency in math has improved since you started teaching them." he informed, and you quickly remember that he attended a meeting earlier today.
A nervous chuckle escapes your mouth.
"They're struggling with the basic stuff, things that they're supposed to know in the first and second grade. I try to go back to those topics before getting back into the complex stuff." you explained, and the smile returns to your face, happy to speak about your passion.
"Whatever you're doing, it seems to be working." he continued to compliment, liking that look in your eyes - the fire. Your body shifts unconsciously, your elbows much closer to his. Your coffee has long gotten rid of its heat, but there was still a million things you had to talk about with him.
"By the way, I thought that you were familiar even before I got to know you - then Harwin and the family talked about that trip to Italy that we both had at the same day. I know it sound a little weird, but I'm pretty sure that the picture you posted on your instagram was taken by me." you opened up the conversation, and he freezes like a deer caught in headlights.
August 23. He remembered vividly, right after you took that picture of him, he promptly collapsed on the curb and was brought to a hospital. That was also the day that he finished remembering his past life. His memories were revived by you?
"A funny coincidence," he managed to choke out.
The Gods were playing a cruel joke.
He stares at your face, seeing your squinting eyes - waiting for his reply. He decides that this might be the right time to talk about Tirano. "When you left, I actually collapsed." he chuckled, playing with the ring on his finger.
"What? Why?" your eyebrows merged into each other.
"I don't know if I'm the only one but - when I was younger I used to dream about weird things, dragons, kings, wars. At first, my parents thought that it was just the result of an overactive mind but the dreams persisted until I turned into an adult - actually I think I was in my late thirties or early fourties when they stopped. It stopped after that trip to Tirano." he monologued, now evading your gaze.
If you weren't able to make the connection, then he would've revealed himself for nothing. "I dream about those things too. Strange." you whispered, your voice suddenly decreasing in volume. "I'm not the only one then," he looked to the side.
"But you said that they stopped? How did they stop?" you asked, wanting to rid yourself of those nightmares. He smiled, remembering seeing your face before everything faded to black.
"I dreamed about myself dying, and after waking up in a hospital bed feeling like I slept a million years, I never dreamt about it again." he confirmed and your heart sinks to your chest. "Holy shit, this sounds so fanatically cultish." you cursed. "- you're telling me that I need to die in the dream to stop dreaming about it again?" you repeated.
He replies with a shrug.
"Well that's going to take a long time. I'm in like, Act Three of the whole novel." you decided to keep the conversation light, although the topic was serious and you weren't sure if you were there to believe him. "How many acts are there?" he raised an eyebrow. "How many acts are in Madame Butterfly?" you quizzed.
"Three...so you're near the end." he smiled. "I'm not sure, for all we know it might just be the end of the beginning." you answered.
He stands up, hearing the bells ring.
"Whatever it is, I'm sure that you'll find a cure of your own." he bid his goodbyes and disappeared from the teacher's lounge.
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AEMOND NEW SIM Can you pls catch a ride with someone u work with? I'm a little busy here in mom's house She's moving a few things Yknow her trip to Turkey
YOU Okay, what time will u be home?
AEMOND NEW SIM Probably before dinner If I'm out past six have dinner before me
YOU Alright, take care
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theprettynosferatu · 1 year
Text
CW: Orientation play/conversion. Remember that your sexuality is valid, and conversion is NOT a thing beyond fantasy. Also, fuck "conversion therapy"
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“All I’m saying is…”
“Look, you’re speaking out of your ass”, Ava said, barely containing her frustration.
“How am I speaking out of my ass? It has been done and thoroughly…”, he tried to reply.
“Yes, yes, Pavlov, blah blah blah. But you’re talking about something else entirely, not conditioning reactions”
“Not Pavlov, Skinner! Actions can be conditioned too. Look around you! Mobile games, casinos, even the goddamn army uses conditioning to…”
“Can we agree that there’s a difference between conditioning obedience in a controlled setting and whatever the fuck it is you’re suggesting? You’re not talking about tapping on impulse to buy funbucks in a game! You are talking…”
“It’s only a difference of degree, not of kind. With the right combination of techniques…”
“No, there’s a core there that you can’t just… overwrite. Some things can’t be changed. Like… like how you can’t hypnotize someone into doing something they would never do”
“You know that’s bullshit, right? The whole hypnosis thing. You absolutely can make someone do whatever the fuck you want. It’s just a matter of how you approach it. Like, you would never harm a person, okay? But if I change what your idea of ‘person’ is, say, by making it more narrow you would absolutely harm someone I made you see as a not-person. Or maybe you can be made to believe you’re helping them, not harming them”
“That’s some creepy cult shit, dude. And anyway you can’t write a paper on this because a) there’s no evidence and b) doing the research to get evidence would be absolutely immoral. So I say look for another topic and for the love of God don’t go around spewing that bullshit if you want to ever get laid. Oh, speaking of! Linda will be arriving shortly and we have a date night, so please, please try to be a normal roommate and not freak her out. For me, okay?”
“When have I ever freaked her out? Linda loves me! And who knows, maybe she has an opinion on our little debate”
“Dude, she’s an Art student. I doubt she’ll be interested in our weird Psych dissertations”
“Perfect! Fresh eyes!”
“See, that’s the kind of weird shit I-”
The buzzer cut through the air, and a moment later Linda was inside the apartment, all smiles as usual. He took a moment to watch them as they embraced. 
They were almost comical in their contrast. Linda was tall, taller than he was, willowy and slender, her limbs graceful and shapely, her hair a long, flowing river of playful copper that almost seemed to dance on its own volition– with her green sundress she appeared to him as some sort of elven princess ripped from the pages of a fantasy novel and stuck into a mortal world in which she didn’t really fit. Ava, on the other hand, was probably the shortest adult he had ever seen. He might be tempted to call her petite, but that had a connotation of a lithe frame, almost like a tastefully proportioned doll. Ava was the complete opposite of that. Sometimes he felt Ava was an experiment aimed at testing how much of a person’s weight could be tits and ass, held up by strong, thick thighs. He felt quite guilty about such thoughts, and he understood why she wore nothing but oversized t-shirts and hoodies. It was logical: an early, spectacular growth spurt, heightened by her small size, had made her the target of relentless bullying by jealous classmates and awkward come-ons by hormonal teen males. It enraged him, he realized. Ava was beautiful and the cruelty of idiots had made her feel pain about it instead of pride. He made a point to never stare at her, even if he sometimes failed. It made their relationship as roommates a tad hard, he had to admit. 
 
Not that he had a shadow of a shot, of course. Ava had no interest in men.
Unless, of course, he was right in his theory. And he had good reason to think he was.
“So, Linda: Ava and I were having a bit of a debate…”
“Don’t start, dude”, said Ava.
“Oh, a debate! Do tell!” chirped Linda.
“Do you think we can be completely conditioned and changed, or is there some part of us that cannot be modified, no matter what?”
“Huh. Hard one. Like… a soul? I don’t know I buy it. I feel there isn’t really a self, you know? Like… Buddhism. The self is an illusion and all that”
“Come on, you can’t be serious! You can’t change who someone fundamentally is, and it’s sick to even consider it!”, said Ava.
“Well… what if I could prove to you it can be done?”, he stated, barely able to hold back. He know what he was going to do. He had been reluctant, but now it felt like a certainty.
“You can’t, so stop being an ass”, said Ava.
Fine. Game on.
“Linda, I love your socks! Pride socks!”
“Yup!”, said Linda
“What the hell–”, mumbled Ava.
He took a deep breath.
“Linda: rainbow socks…”
She replied in an instant.
“Are for sucking cocks!”
Ava felt as if reality had shifted into some horrible, twisted nightmare. She was about to scream something, anything really, to make Linda take that back before something stopped her in her tracks. Her body heard it before her mind did: her roommate's voice simply commanding her. Watch. 
And she watched. She watched as the love of her life smiled and went on her knees. Ava could do nothing but watch in disbelief and pain. Linda had never been with a man. Ever. 
“I might have… started testing my theories. On you both. Not that you’d remember, obviously”, he stated casually as the beautiful girl in front of him lovingly undid his pants. “I’d say Linda’s sexuality is part of her core self, wouldn’t you? Let’s see how that holds up after the months of conditioning I’ve subjected her to”
He felt guilty, sure; but there was such a high to it, such an entrancing quality to the combination of seeing instant, complete obedience and the final, definitive proof of the truth he had known to be right all along. Was it wrong? Yes. Did he care? Not at the moment. Ava’s eyes were a poem to him. Suddenly he was ripped from his reverie by the soft, loving touch of Linda’s tongue on his dick. He hadn’t even realized he had gotten hard just from the sense of complete power, of total, undeniable conquest. This was a primal, ancient arousal. Ava could do nothing but watch, and he took that sight in. God, he could almost taste it.
Linda moaned. The cock was so beautiful. So perfect. She felt so… silly, like she was now, for the first time, seeing in color and realizing the sky was, in fact, blue. It was obvious. Simple. Natural. Cock deserved worship. Cock deserved devotion. Cock demanded obedience. It was as if it was growing in her mind, taking over more and more of her, pushing who she had been out effortlessly. It expanded. It corrupted. It twisted and shifted all within. Cock. Cock. Cock. She kissed it with reverence, in awe of it. It was all that existed to her. All that mattered. She needed to please it. Needed to feel it throbbing inside her. Needed to be taken by it.
Ava saw her girlfriend slide a hand between her legs and felt nauseous. As much as she knew this wasn’t Linda’s fault, she could feel her heart breaking, her anger rising… and worse, her pussy getting wet. Her body betraying her. She hated him, and she hated Linda, and she hated herself most of all.
Suddenly, Linda couldn’t contain herself. She relaxed her throat, looked up at her Master and took his entire manhood inside her mouth. She almost came instantly. It was peaceful and sexy and just simple, like his cock was the puzzle piece that fit her perfectly, completed her, made her whole. She existed to be conquered, and realizing she was putting his pleasure over her ability to breathe was the final sign of her complete, loving surrender. She let it out, watched it glisten with her spit, and started licking it and loving it and she didn’t know how much came from her own need and how much it was a silent command by the man who had shown her the light. Her mind was too fuzzy to make such distinctions anymore.
He took a deep breath, fighting back the first signs of an orgasm. He needed to make a point.
“Linda… do you love Ava?”
The blonde stopped for a moment, shocked by a myriad of contradictions.
“Yes”, she decided. Her voice was shaking.
“Tell her”
Linda looked at Ava, the woman she had loved above all others.
“I love you…”
“But you have more to say, don’t you?”
“I… hmph… I…”
“Tell her”
“I love you… but… but… I love his cock so much more! Fuck! I need it! I need to feel it, to suck it, to be fucked by it… I’m sorry… but… I love it, I love it, I love it! I want it to fuck my throat, to take my cunt, to ram my ass! I need it! I need to be a slave to it, a whore for it, a fucking living toy!”
“What if you had to choose between Ava and my cock?”
“Fuck her! Sorry, my love… I do love you, but… You can never do to me what… what Master does to me, what his cock makes me feel! I hope I won’t have to dump you but… I would leave you for this cock in a minute! I’d do anything. Anything. Anything!” If she had more to add, her need to serve cock snuffed it. She took it all in with desperation, with total, shameless abandon. She needed to feel... used. In her proper place.
Ava felt a tear roll down her cheek. Her knees buckled in defeat. She didn’t even care. It was all gone. Her life, her love, all gone. And she could feel her eyes drawn again and again to the cock that had destroyed her. She felt her mouth watering.
“Linda, would you say you’re a lesbian?”
“Fuck no!”, she said before immediately wrapping her lips around the cock’s head.  
He felt a swell of pride. Of triumph. He knew Ava sensed the truth as well. He was right. He had proven his point. And now Ava’s full conditioning would take hold. A little bet with himself, making her own mental acknowledgment of his theory her final trigger. She took off her t-shirt. She would never wear it again. No more shame, no more pain about her figure. Only arousal and pride. His gift to her.
She crawled to him on all fours. The girls kissed– but now, they kissed for him, to arouse him. They were lovers, only they both knew there was a higher love. A truer love. Ava looked up at her owner and opened her mouth, greedily awaiting his blessing. Linda used her skillful hands, aiming his cock and teasing it, jacking it off, using just the right amount of pressure and speed. 
No man could resist such a sight.
In a few seconds, Ava was covered in his cum, more beautiful than she had ever been. Linda certainly felt that way, and she licked and kissed her sister slut clean.
He watched carefully, looking for signs of defiance, and finding none. In fact, Linda put his fears to rest with a simple statement.
“Ava, we need to buy you a pair of rainbow socks”
Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu !!
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rogueddie · 2 years
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There's something... off about Steve. Eddie can't quite put his finger on it, but he started noticing it a long time ago. Long before they actually met. Back at the tail end of his King Steve days.
He'd gotten glimpses, like he was seeing behind a mask. The way Steve usual smirk and swagger would drop, just for a moment. But he didn't look upset about losing friends... he looked haunted. Something so empty and lost about him. The moment would be over as fast as Eddie saw it, the whole King Steve persona slipping back on just as easily as it slipped off.
The look on Steves face stuck with him though. There was something so unsettling about it. Something so wrong. Because Steve was the spoilt, rich, popular kid. He had distant parents, everyone knows that, but... Eddie didn't want to think about what could've shaken up Steve Harrington so much, what could leave him looking so traumatized. He doesn't want to know.
But, of course, Eddie never got so lucky.
He's surprised, yet not at all, when he finds out that Steve has been dealing with the alternate dimension bullshit for years. It makes so many little things make sense. Makes the sudden loss of social status, the complete 180 in his attitude, seem reasonable.
And that should've been it. As nice as it was, saving the world with Steve Harrington, Eddie understands how things are. Even with his reputation shredded, hanging out with the town freak- now town 'we still think he's a murderer no matter how much they clear his name' level freak- is far, far below Steve.
But Steve keeps seeking him out. He keeps knocking on the trailer door. Ringing him up. Turning up to D&D sessions early so he can talk his way into coming back to hang out with Eddie.
Sometimes the King Steve mask makes a return, more often a mutation of it. But, for some reason, there's no masks on when it's just the two of them. Steve is freely and openly weird. He admits to things that Eddie knows he wouldn't usually share without pressure. But he shares them with Eddie.
Eddie asks him. But Steve just... smiles. Changes the subject with such ease that it isn't until later that Eddie even realizes that he never answered. He's kind of impressed.
Eddie learns to love it. He's got such deep insights into Steves psyche now that he can read him better than Robin can. He makes a point of correcting Robin too, enjoying the confusion and frustration he causes. Especially with how often she jokingly threatens him for stealing her soulmate.
And he is. It takes him a while to realize that he is... but he is. He's essentially stealing Steve.
He doesn't like groups. Not a lot. He likes having quiet moments with a couple people, he likes spending alone time with people, and it's no different with Steve. He likes knowing that he definitely has all of the attention and that the other person has all of his.
So maybe he feels a little possessive over their alone time, over the way Steve is so open with him specifically. With him exclusively. But it's not getting in the way of anything, it's not a problem.
Until, one day, Eddie notices Steve slipping away behind a mask. It's not the usual King Steve or variant. That throws Eddie off. It makes him too curious to ask, to look too close as to why. He wants to know more about the mask Steve is creating.
It's suave. Confident. It gives Steve an air of romance, something about it making him seem so much more slick. Like the persona of an old romcom movies male lead. It makes him stand a little straighter, it has his eyes wondering so freely. It makes Eddie blush.
Eddie stops him one day. He has to make sure Steve understands that, whatever he's doing with this new mask, Eddie isn't feeling friendship things about it.
Steve gives him that smile again, the one that makes it clear that Steve has figured something out that Eddie hasn't. He doesn't change the subject this time. He pointedly steps closer, grabs Eddies hand.
"Maybe I don't want you to feel friendship things about me," Steve says. He doesn't have the usual slick tone of his new mask. He looks a little nervous. "Maybe I only wear this mask with you."
Steve doesn't let him kiss him, ducks to the side far too smoothly. He still has Eddies hand in his. Eddie can't help but narrow his eyes, suspicious of the playful grin he's getting.
"Let me take you on a date first. A nice dinner, some expensive red wine..."
"Fuck you," Eddie is grinning though. Revels in the way his bluntness makes the mask slip again, this time because Steve is too amused to hide it- something that is more and more common.
It's more rare, these days, to see Steves masks slip because of whatever horrors he's remembering. It's almost always because of Eddie, making him smile, making him laugh. Not even his King Steve mask can hold up against Eddies odd, feral charm.
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nolita-fairytale · 1 year
Text
burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter five
summary: you and luca finally talk about what happened the night of the ballet -- and finally have a chance to clear the air.
warnings: fluff, eventual smut, eventual angst not use of y/n, conversations about divorce, slow burn, baby, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.
word count: 3k
a/n: let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!
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part four | masterlist | part six
You’ve been avoiding his calls all day. 
After Luca bid you goodnight on Thursday, you’d practically sprinted upstairs and into your apartment, slamming the door behind you while wondering what the hell was wrong with you?
You’re too stubborn for your own good, you think to yourself, recalling the moment – the one where you could’ve kissed him but you didn’t – between you and Luca. You stood there, too paralyzed to make a move, yet unable and unwilling to walk away from him. 
Luca had given you space most of yesterday, save for a text later in the evening, but the fact that today is Saturday, the day he almost always comes into the restaurant, is not lost on you. Instead of dealing with it, you’ve been hyper focused all day, choosing to bury your head in work as you run lunch service with Mathilde, more than grateful that business has run at a steady pace today. 
It’s not until you hit a stop, forced to pause after a few hours in between the lunch and dinner rush, reaches a lull. Your brain is suddenly inundated with too many thoughts: was this it? Had you scared him away forever? Did he think you were a total freak considering you’d practically run away from him after he’d said goodnight?
“So are we going to talk about it?” Mathilde presses you, ripping you out of your thoughts with the sound of her voice. You look her way, noticing that her lips pursed in sheer annoyance at your avoidance mechanisms. 
Your face falls, unable to carry this solo for much longer, letting out a sigh of resignation because you know she’s right. 
You can’t run from this – from your feelings, from Luca – forever. 
“Yeah,” you give in. “Yeah, okay.”
“What the hell happened?” Mathilde hisses as she approaches you. “I mean, he’s gorgeous, he’s cultured… he took you out to the ballet, and you like him!”
“I don’t know,” you huff, disappointedly. “I just-, I think I got too caught up in my head. It’s like one minute I was really jazzed at the idea of being on a date, let alone a date with Luca, and the next I’m just… I don’t know… totally psyching myself out and pushing him away.”
“Merde,” she swears in French this time. 
“Fuck,” you sigh, at least releasing a little of the pent up pressure you’ve been holding onto all day. 
“Babe, I know that holding all of this,” she begins, gesturing wildly towards you, “gives you a certain edge in the kitchen… but I can’t imagine it’s good for you.”
You send her another look – one that says ‘fuck off because I know you’re right’ this time. 
“I don’t know what to do, Mathilde,” you confess, your eyes pleading with her for some advice. 
She turns to you, this time with a much more serious expression as she says, “Luca seems like a really great guy. Maybe you should just tell him all of this.” 
You nod slowly as you process. It’s not that you haven’t thought about it – it’s not like it’s a new concept to you – you were married once, after all. But the idea of being vulnerable like that, showing someone new your whole hand feels really scary. You know it’s the thing you need to do; it’s the kindest, most honest option that you have – and you know that Luca deserves just that: kindness, transparency, the truth. 
As you continue to think it over, the only words that come to you are:
“I told him that I wasn’t in love with him anymore – with Joe. When he asked.”
“Luca?”
“Yeah.”
“It wasn’t a lie. Was it?” Mathilde questions you carefully. 
You share your head, growing more and more certain in your answer. 
“No, of course not. It’s not that. My hesitation has never been about Joe. It’s-, it’s about me…” you explain, finding the right words in the moment. “... about my heart.”
Mathilde places a gentle hand on your shoulder as you share a knowing look as she listens.
“What if I do this? I mean, what if I jump… and it’s a horrible mess… and I ruin a good thing with a really great guy because I’m not ready?” you ask, shining a light on your biggest fears. 
She takes a beat, thinking it over, before crossing her arms over her chest, as the two of you stand side by side, leaning up against a stainless steel prep station. 
“Then you do,” she answers, as if it were that simple. “And you figure out the rest. You’re only human after all.” 
You chuckle, playfully rolling your eyes at Mathilde’s not-so-friendly reminder. 
“Here’s an idea,” she starts back up again, catching your attention as you glance sideways to look at her. “What if you jump? And it’s the best thing you’ve ever done? What if it’s worth it?” 
You take a deep breath, letting her words sink in, letting yourself feel the possibility that this could also be the best thing you’ve ever done too. But before you can say anything in response, Jesper comes back into the kitchen, calling for you. 
“Hate to break up the slumber party, ladies, but can I borrow you for a moment, Chef?” he asks, making it clear that he’s talking to you. You and Mathilde exchange glances as Jesper nods through the open kitchen to where Luca waits for you in the dining room. You open your mouth to say something, but instead, you just nod, murmuring a ‘yeah, of course,’ quick to follow Jesper out of the kitchen. 
It’s impeccable timing, really, you think to yourself, that you were just contemplating the possibility that this could be something you could do. 
You could jump, you remind yourself, if you really wanted to. 
“Hi,” you say, barely above a whisper as soon as you see Luca. 
“Hi,” he smiles warmly in return, causing Jesper to look from you to Luca, then back to you again. 
“I’m just gonna-,” he starts, searching for an excuse. 
Only, he doesn’t have one, so Jesper simply excuses himself before disappearing into the kitchen to find a place where he and Mathilde both can pretend to do something when really eavesdropping. 
Jesper’s abrupt and clumsy exit seems some of the palpable tension, earring a laugh from both you and Luca. 
“I thought-,” he begins as you simultaneously say, “I’ve been meaning to call-.”
“Sorry,” he says with an apologetic half smile. 
“No I’m-. You go first,” you encourage, blushing on a little as the two of you clumsily dance around each other. 
Luca takes a breath, reminding himself that it wouldn’t be this weird if there wasn’t something between the two of you – that he hasn’t been imagining this – not even a little bit. 
“I hope that it’s okay. That I’m here,” he finally says, his voice steady and even. 
“I-, of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” you ask him, suddenly insecure about the fact that he felt he needed to ask in the first place. 
“I just-, well I thought ehm, maybe you’d need some space. I didn’t want to ehm, you know… show up here if-, even though it’s Saturday because it is your place and I wouldn’t want-,” Luca tries to explain, stopping and starting again and again. 
“Luca, no I-,” you say, before pausing, swearing to yourself under your breath as you mutter. “Shit. Fuck, I-. Goddamn, you really are fucking perfect.”
“What was that?” Luca asks, only catching the swearing part at the beginning and the ‘fucking perfect’ part at the end. 
“Um…” you trail off, looking around you. 
As you catch Jesper and Mathilde ducking behind a shelf out of the corner of your eye, and a few of your waitstaff hurrying to make it look like they’re busy and not listening in, you realize that you and Luca have managed to earn the attention of some very curious onlookers. 
“Do you want to step outside for a moment?” you ask, gesturing towards the front door. 
“Sure,” he nods, letting you lead him to a spot outside.
You make sure that you're both as out of sight as possible, staying far away from the broad windows that line the front of your restaurant. 
“Hi,” you say again on an exhale.
“Hi,” he says back, simply. 
“I’m glad you came. I know I-... I should’ve called, or- or texted you… after Thursday,” you begin, nervously, eager to own up to the very big part you’ve played in the lack of communication.
“Yes. You should’ve,” he repeats, his eyes catching yours as you nod in confirmation. 
It’s good – that he’s not going to let you off the hook – and while you like it, you like that he has boundaries, you’re disappointed in yourself as you say:
“I’m sorry.”
Luca sighs, shaking his head as he immediately counters with:
“No, I’m sorry. I mean, yes, you should’ve called. Or at least texted. But I should’ve been clear in the first place that Thursday…” he trails off, almost as if he’s mustering up the courage to say what he needs to say. 
“... that Thursday was more to me than our regular excursions. That it was a date. To me at least.”
“Luca-.”
“I wish I would’ve told you – made it clear in the first place – so you knew what you were getting into,” Luca finishes, carefully watching for your reaction. There’s something so honest in the way he goes about this conversation, and you sure as hell feel like you could take the proverbial jump right fucking now. 
“I appreciate that. Really, I do…” you start, before trailing off again. “But I-. This isn’t on you, Luca.”
“How do you mean?” he asks you, his expressive brows knitted together, as if you’d just spoken in tongues. 
Here goes nothing, you think to yourself.
“I-. This has been great. I mean… I really like spending time with you,” you start, anxiously, instantly realizing that it sounds like you’re breaking up with him. “Fuck, I-.” 
You let out a frustrated groan as it seems you’re having an impossible time getting out what you need to get out. You take a breath. And a beat, before continuing. 
“And I’ve really liked this… hanging out, getting to know you… borrowing your books. I-, I just… we’ve got such a good thing going and I really don’t want to fuck this up, you know?”
He sighs your name this time, looking down for a moment as you add:
“I’m-, I’m afraid that… I’m going to fuck this up.”
“Yeah. I know,” he answers, heavily. “I-, I am too.”
“And then Thursday night, things were so, so good, and I-, I panicked and I feel terrible because… you don’t deserve that. You don’t.”
Luca takes a beat as he listens. He’s not sure what exactly that means, but he reminds himself to stay on track, stay the course and make sure that he says what he came here to say to you. 
“It’s alright,” he reassures you, softly, taking a step towards you. “I don’t want you to feel like… like you have to feel a certain way just because I-.”
“No, that’s not it! That’s not-, that’s really not the problem,” you interject as you struggle to explain yourself, unsure of where to even begin. You take a step towards him this time too, your voice softening as you continue. “Luca, I don’t feel obligated to feel… any kind of way just because you-.”
“Because I?” he questions you.
The silence his questions leaves goes on a few beats longer than you expected, and you realize that he’s waiting for you to fill in the blank. 
“Well, I don’t know,” you pause, a shocked look on your face as one of you waits for the other.
“You didn’t-, I never let you finish your sentence so,” you ramble aimlessly, immediately bursting out into a fit of laughter as you realize that neither of you are getting anywhere. 
Luca laughs too, joining in on the much needed reprieve. 
The two of you exchange glances, and one more shared laugh, before settling in once again. 
With a crooked smile spread across his lips, Luca can take a hint, realizing that he may need to take the lead on this one.
The way your name sounds on his lips is so heavenly, so divine, so soft that you know you’ve got it bad, as you scramble for a way to tell him everything that you’ve been feeling. 
“May I?” he asks, in reference to taking the lead. 
“Please.”
“I just came here to tell you… I want to tell you…” he corrects himself, taking a step towards you. 
“... that I really like you. I really like spending time with you. I like that you get me out of the kitchen in search of something different. And I think that your mind, even though incredibly neurotic, is absolutely brilliant. And if what you need is for us to be friends right now, I want that. We can… slow all of this down. All you’ve got to do is talk to me.”
It feels like time fucking stops, and the world goes black and white for a moment, then full color all at once as you hear the words coming out of his mouth. Your revelation comes rushing in, clear as day – that this man cares so deeply for you and that maybe, your heart could be safe with him. Unsure of how to deal with the grace and compassion Luca is showing you, you’re only left with one question, as it falls from your lips like a boulder. 
“How?”
“What?”
“How do you always have the right thing to say…” you ask him, your voice caught in your throat as you finish your question.  “... when I only have the wrong things to say?”
Luca opens his mouth to say something you’ll never hear, as you choose to completely throw caution to the wind. 
Perhaps the question was rhetorical anyways. 
You’re not sure what’s coms over you, but instead of words, you only have actions left, and the only thing that will remedy the situation is to do the thing that you’ve been panicking over doing since Luca showed you into the pastry room at AOC. You charge forward, reaching out for him, and he’s right there with you, meeting you halfway as you eagerly press your lips to his. 
You can feel all the blood in your body rush through you as your lips connect. Your heart flutters. Your head spins. It’s the kind of kiss that people write sonnets about – write love songs about. It’s almost three months of simmering tension, finally allowed to reach its boiling point. You pull away, just for a moment, uttering out a breathless:
“Holy shit.”
Luca laughs with a shake of his head as he agrees with a, “Yeah.”
You exchange a look, and a laugh, before kissing him again. 
And this time the kiss is a hello, it’s a new beginning, it’s a ‘thank god I met you.’
This time, Luca pulls away, reluctantly releasing you as he does. 
“It’s not that I don’t like this,” he begins, using all of his restraint to put this on pause. “I really, really do, but… I’m kind of getting mixed signals here.”
“No, no, I know,” you apologize, turning as you hear your name called, swearing under your breath again as soon as you see Mathilde peeking her head out of the front door. 
“Oh… my God! I am so sorry, I’ll just-, except for we need you to-, she calls after you, stumbling over her words as soon as she realizes what’s going on between you and Luca. 
“Nevermind it can wait!” Jesper exclaims, poking his head out of the front door as well, before dragging Mathilde back into the restaurant.
You and Luca exchange another laugh. 
“They’re… something,” you chuckle, with a shake of your head. 
“Good wingmen,” Luca adds, mirroring your previous exchange with his coworker. 
Returning his focus to you, Luca shakes his head incredulously, considering this is not the way he thought this conversation would go. He grins as he takes you in, but knows that this is time limited. He’d noticed the curious staff of your restaurant that he’s come to know and love doing their best to pretend they weren’t listening in on your conversation earlier. They know exactly what’s going on here, so if they felt the need to interrupt, Luca knows that you’re most likely needed back in the kitchen. 
He shifts his weight in between both of his feet, taking a small step back as he states:
“We’re gonna have to talk about this.”
“Yes,” you agree, your declaration certain.
“But right now you have to go,” Luca continues. 
“Right now I have to go,” you echo as confirmation. “Later. I promise. We’ll talk. Tonight?”
“Yeah ehm. Not to be… presumptuous. But my place is closeby. We could… perhaps talk. Tonight. There?” Luca suggests, trying to downplay the fact that it sounds like he’s asking you to come over for a booty call. 
It’s certainly not his intention, considering he’d just offered to slow things down, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. 
“Yeah. I’ll text you,” you agree, suddenly nervous again. “When I’m done here. If you’re still up.”
“It’s a date,” Luca agrees, deciding to move in towards you again.
You nod, taking another step towards him so that you can kiss him again. 
“Oh, and Luca?”
He hums in response, his eyes flickering from yours to your lips because he really can’t wait to kiss you again either. . 
“I should be-. I want to be clear,” you begin, deciding to be brave in this moment. 
He raises an eyebrow. 
“I really like you too,” you say, before standing tall on your tiptoes, and pulling him down to you for, this time, a see-you-later kiss. 
----------------------------
a/n: ummm hi how are we doing is everyone doing ok?!
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vocallywritten · 2 months
Text
The funniest thing about Book Colin is that he's already set to marry Penelope and is psyched about their future together and thinks about her constantly and is over the moon about so much as holding her hand, but he's too stupid about his own feelings to realize that he's in love with her even after all that.
At least show Colin had the excuse of being her childhood friend, and show Colin was much closer to his Penelope growing up than Book Colin was, so his confused feelings I think would be more understandable. Instead Show Colin kisses Show Penelope once, freaks out for about a week, and then seems to understand his feelings for what they are. Book Colin meanwhile proposes marriage to Book Penelope and STILL is like, "Okay but do I LIKE-like her, or...?"
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unknownperson246 · 2 months
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Can you make an Izzy x fem reader where they wake up and realize that they switched bodies but they get curious and Izzy in the reader's body starts trying to masturbate with first just his/readers hands then moves onto a vibrator and realizes how sensitive readers body is. Reader while in Izzy's body tries same thing by jerking off but can't help but watch Izzy in her body get off. Izzy starts begging the reader to help by guiding the reader on how to eat him/ reader out (its confusing) but it ends up with Izzy teaching reader how to fuck herself in Izzy's body (basically reader is fucking Izzy but they're bodies are still swapped)
Hii I just finished it I hope you enjoy it ❤️ For those of you who don't know freaky Friday is a movie where a mother and a daughter switch bodies and the daughter is a guitarist I did not realize that my fic and the plot to the movie were similar (the daughter being a guitar player and Izzy being a guitar player. Izzy and reader switch back in time though) (and Its not my movie for copyright purposes) I hope you enjoy the fic
Part 2
Freaky Friday Part 1:
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Words: 912
Warnings: *smut* *fluff* *oral sex* *f receiving* *p in v* *cum play* *cussing* *switching bodies* *masturbating* *mentions of psych ward*
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆
You wake up from your sleep and you realize that you're not you. You look at your hands and they look like Izzy's hands. You're very confused and you think that you're very high. You look next to you and you see your body. You start to panic. You shake and poke at the body next to you. You hear yourself mumble in your sleep You realize that you are in Izzy's body. You also realize that Izzy is in your body. 
“What in the Freaky Friday shit is this” You mumble to yourself. 
You wake yourself up and you hear Izzy's voice.
“Hey wake up” You touch your shoulder that the body Izzy was in.
“Huh?” Izzy mumbles as he sees himself. “What the fuck. This has to be a dream,” Izzy says shocked. He goes to the mirror and he sees your body. 
“Well, we have to make the best of this,” You say to Izzy who is in your body. 
“We can do so many things to each other” You smirk in Izzy's body.
“Maybe we can fuck each other and feel how different it is,” You say to Izzy who is in your body.
“I have another idea too lets jerk off and then we can fuck” You tell Izzy who is in your body taking your pants off. 
“Seriously, that's all you can think about? I need my body back” he whines. “I have a concert tomorrow and you don't even know how to play the guitar,” Izzy says to you while you're in his body.
“Well, it's not my fault we switched. I don't think it's even scientifically possible. This is a freak show” You wallow in disappointment. “I want to explore your body babe,” You say to Izzy who is in your body.
Your big hands cup Izzy's face.
“Shh, everything is going to be fine.” You say to Izzy who is trapped in your body.
You lay Izzy who is in your body down on the bed. Izzy who is in your body finally relaxes and he starts to think about what you said and he gets curious about jerking off in your body. He starts with just his hands in swift motions and lets out small whimpers and moans. 
“Can you pass me the vibrator Y/N?” He asks you while he is in your body.
You pass Izzy the vibrator and he starts to use it. He lets out small whimpers and moans in your body. He can feel every small movement and every small breeze that hits your pussy he realizes how sensitive it is for you down there.
“Y/N You feel so sensitive down there,” He says while he continues to jerk off in your body.
“Yeah, Your dick makes it feel good though so I ignore how much it hurts,” You say watching Izzy use his fingers to vibrate your clit over and over again. “That looks like it feels good,” You say smiling as you watch Izzy jerk off.
You start to jerk off in Izzy's body and you watch Izzy in your body getting off. You stop using your fingers on his cock and just sit there and watch Izzy have his orgasm in your body. 
“Oh fuck” He moans while his three fingers are in your pussy.
“You're having fun with me,” You say watching Izzy moaning and you watch your legs shake while he is in your body. 
“Y/N can you please eat me out? You know what your body likes the best”  Izzy begs while he is in your body.
You bring Izzy’s mouth close to your pussy and his tongue starts to go over his wet folds. You start to eat yourself out but Izzy is the one who gets to feel the pleasure. You start to put Izzy’s tongue in your pussy.
“Oh fuck y/n” Izzy moans while your nails dig into your bed.
“Your pussy sure does like my tongue” Izzy moans while he digs your nails into the bed.
“My tongue feels so good,” he whimpers.
Izzy’s tongue starts to go over your wet folds again and his tongue flickers in your pussy. Izzy can feel how sensitive you feel down there again.
“Y/N please slow down” he whines to you while he lets out small whimpers and cries.
“Fuck y/n I’m about to piss” Izzy moans.
“That just means your about to squirt” you mumble while fucking yourself while Izzy is in your body.
Izzy comes all over your face while you give him the best oral sex in his life.
“That was so good Y/N. I’m going to miss being you” he says while he plays with your tits while being imprisoned in your body. 
“I didn’t know I tasted so good” you smirk while stroking your pussy while Izzy felt it your fingers movements.
“Let’s fall asleep, maybe we will wake up ourselves again,” Izzy says while he is in your body.
“Good idea,” you say to him.
You both fall asleep but when you both wake up you are still stuck in each other's bodies. This time you both experiment with sticking his cock up your pussy. After you both fuck you are back in your bodies again and later that night Izzy goes on stage not speaking a word of what happened ever because he didn’t want you or him to end up in a psych ward. 
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nixthelapin · 7 months
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A Jekyll&Hyde type akuma whose power is to bring out a hidden or repressed part of your personality (but like, making two of you instead of switching in one body), and when Chat gets hit suddenly there’s both “normal” Chat (I’ll get to that in a sec) and Cat Walker/Patte de Velours at the same time.
(Cue Ladybug freaking out upon learning they’re the same person)
“Normal” Chat looks the same, but is just a bit more intense (since this is Adrien’s way of “letting loose” to not be how he is as a civilian, he’s not too different, but because of the split he does lose some usual traits). I.e. *heavily* flirting with LB, going at it with the puns, more agressive and impulsive with the akuma, doesnt like following orders (especially with the remaining feelings of anger towards the partnership being put further into question as LB prefers CW), heart on his sleeve
Cat Walker is also not super different to the episode he was in, but is also more intense thanks to the akuma: all business- no nonsense, doesn’t laugh at jokes (even in a “I’ll laugh if you want” way, like in Kuroneko), cordial to LB, follows LB’s orders to a T (to the point of not making his own decisions in battle), calm and collected (almost emotionless, even with that plastered smile)
CN starts to hate CW as the fight goes on, because LB seems to prefer him (and she’s understandably getting annoyed with CN’s impulsivity). CN gets territorial, saying that he’s LB’s partner. CW: “then why did she replace you with me?” (Man, look at all the self hatred in Adrien’s psyche!)
So CN runs off and leaves them alone to fight the akuma. This ticks LB off even more, but she has an akuma to deal with- and she has CW- so she lets him go.
As the fight goes on, some of the same issues from Kuroneko occur, so she also gets frustrated with CW too.
Since he’s acting more extreme than normal (more like someone awaiting orders than a partner due to the Jekyll&Hyde thing), it causes more problems (like him waiting for her decisions leaving openings where he could’ve done something proactive)
She actually blows up at him, asking why he didn’t do anything (“I was waiting for you to tell me the plan!”), and she says he should be able to think on his own, he doesn’t need her to tell him everything, but- “I thought I was just being what you wanted.”
(He’s shocked and genuinely hurt- though it’s still pretty quiet emotion, subdued and apologetic)
And that’s when it clicks for her what becoming CW was back in Kuroneko. He was molding himself for her. And this version of CW is even more of that. She realizes just how much CN suppresses, not just for her, but for everyone- why else would this be a major aspect of his personality?
(Also, Patte de Velours? Velvet Paw? That’s basically saying he’s been declawed. Yikes.)
She makes CN get his butt back to the fight (or she finds him- he may have been doing something while away like talking with someone, maybe Alya or Nino, or Luka). CN and CW argue more, with insults. Then she goes on a whole rant/lecture to them about how important they both are, both to her and to each other, how they are one person, and their traits are both important, but each extreme is not great. Ex: instinct/impulse and service/obedience (the key is self control, so that your emotions aren’t controlling you, but neither is another person). He is allowed to be both! Neither personality is bad, and hating one is just hating himself- he can’t just reject a fundamental part of himself.
She makes them agree to work together to defeat the akuma. It’s awkward at first, but they get a rhythm by seeing where each one is needed in the plan (LB does still do that, but how they follow is more fluid now). Two cataclysms now! Yay! (Maybe they used their powers already and have to de transform, and they see themselves as Adrien- the same one, not different, and it gets through their skulls. Idk I’m spitballing).
They have a quick talk between the two about accepting each other, it won’t be easy, I’m nervous, we’ll be okay (“yeah, I think we will :)”), etc.
Ends with them combining back with the ladybug cure. Surprise! His outfit is combined too! (Honestly, I just want the ponytail with the fluffy hair)
LB and CN have a talk after recharging about everything. CN apologizes for lying about CW and explains why and how he did it. LB didn’t realize how much he hid. She never meant for him to change or hate parts of himself. He thought she didn’t like the CN parts of him, but LB promises that isn’t true. She admits she did get… annoyed, but never hate! She loves both sides of him. Besides, CW didn’t work out that first time, remember? (Though she very much leaves out her intense crushing being the deciding factor there)
CN admits he feels more, well, not whole, exactly, he’s actually still pretty uncertain about what all this means for “who he is,” but… he can at least say he feels less like he has to perform all the time. He loves being Chat Noir, but he is exaggerating a bit when he transforms, in part to be not like his civilian life. He tells her he’s not like that as a civilian, but he’s also not like Cat Walker. But he’s not really sure who “he” is yet. (What I’m getting at is Oblivio!Adrien- dorky, but not over the top, in love, trusts his lady to make the plan, but is still proactive, etc.)
LB says that’s okay, he doesn’t have to figure it out right away. But she’ll be there to help him figure it out.
END
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miss-musings · 4 months
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Analyzing the Allegories in The Bad Batch Episode 3.05 "The Return"
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I know a lot of folks out there love analyzing the metaphors and allegories in The Bad Batch Episode 2.09 "The Crossing." (This video has a great breakdown! I highly recommend it.) It really dives into Tech's psyche, his autism (or the Star Wars equivalent of it) and his bond with Omega.
And, as much as I love that episode, I have to admit: I love Episode 3.05 "The Return" even more so for a lot of the same reasons people love "The Crossing." It really dives into Crosshair's psyche, his trauma and his bond with his family (especially Hunter).
Both episodes are so rich and layered, giving us a lot of time for introspection in an otherwise fast-paced, action-packed show.
I'd like to present two allegorical readings for "The Return." While there is some overlap, they ultimately have major contrasts and reinterpret some moments very differently. They ultimately hinge on whether you want to interpret the Wyrm as a good thing or a bad thing.
Thus, you may prefer one over the other, or maybe you'll like both. Feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments/reblogs!
Author's Note: This will end up being the second part of a much longer analysis I want to write about 3.05 "The Return." But, this second part about the allegories wasn't as time-consuming as I imagine Part 1 about the character beats/analysis will be, so I'm tackling it first. Once I've written Part 1, I'll update this intro section with a link. Cheers!
Allegory #1: The Wyrm is a Good Thing
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The one overlapping point between both of these allegorical interpretations is that the Outpost base represents Crosshair, mainly his heart.
Like the Outpost, Crosshair was abandoned by the Empire. He served his purpose and was cast aside, set adrift. Now, he is alone, isolated and purposeless.
Additionally, Crosshair carries Mayday in his heart (which is something TBB composers recently confirmed on Twitter), and the Outpost is home to the last remnant's of Mayday and the other clones -- their helmets.
But while he carries memories of Mayday, Tech and other clones in his heart, he doesn't have anyone actively in his life. Just as the Outpost doesn't have anyone actively stationed there anymore.
Now, under Allegory #1, the snow represents Crosshair's trauma.
Just as the snow has covered the Outpost, Crosshair has been buried in trauma -- from many things, but especially from his experiences in 2.12 "The Outpost" and from his time on Tantiss.
The snow is emblematic of his trauma because the last time he was on Barton IV, he and Mayday are nearly buried in an avalanche and then they have to fight their way back through the snow-covered terrain, in a blizzard. While it isn't actively snowing at the Outpost in 3.05 "The Return," the snow that's covering the base has left it inaccessible.
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Arguably, the snow can represent the specific trauma of losing a brother, because Crosshair audibly freaks out when Hunter falls into the crevasse. He's afraid of losing Hunter the same way he lost Mayday. He doesn't want to lose another brother to this planet and its snow.
So, just as the Outpost and Crosshair were both abandoned by the Empire, now they're both buried under the weight of the snow (or what it represents).
Now, enter: The Bad Batch.
Crosshair's family arrive at the Outpost and they take down the perimeter defense at the base. But, under Allegory #1, this is a Good Thing.
Because the Wyrm represents Crosshair's family, love and hope.
You can argue that the Wyrm represents Hunter specifically. They're the only two characters we see in the tunnels, and Crosshair has the remark about "I think I just made it angrier," which applies to both Hunter and the Wyrm at different points in the episode.
You can also argue the Wyrm represents Omega, because it shows up as they're talking about her. Plus, just as the Wyrm ultimately brings Hunter and Crosshair together and forces them to reconcile, so too does Omega. Plus, Hunter's line of "Not alone -- we'll do it together" can apply to facing the Wyrm as much as it does to eventually raising Omega.
But, ultimately, the Wyrm represents Crosshair's family (whether Hunter or Omega specifically) and the love and hope that they bring with them.
In the final shot of the episode, we see that -- even though the snow still covers the Outpost -- we also now see tunnels that the Wyrm created during its attack. They're essentially inlets into and/or outlets out of the Outpost now that weren't there before — a way through the snow.
Now that his family and their love and hope are back in his life, Crosshair has a way out and a way forward in life (or back to his family) that he didn't have before — a way through the trauma. He has their love and support. He has an outlet now.
(P.S. I also just love the idea of his family metaphorically wyrming their way back into his heart. LOL)
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Allegory #1 fits better when you put it in the context of 2.12 "The Outpost" and the final scene in 3.05 "The Return."
Crosshair, in a very big character moment for him, takes the initiative and opens up to Hunter.
Crosshair in general, but in this episode specifically, is very closed off. Earlier in the episode, he avoided talking to Hunter, and wasn't forthcoming about his time on Tantiss or his experiences at the Outpost. Part of that is because of his personality, but a lot of it is because of his trauma.
But, at the end of the episode, Crosshair now feels comfortable enough to open up to Hunter. Arguably, he didn't really need to, at least not right then. He and Hunter had reached an equilibrium or understanding after facing the Wyrm together. Whatever anger and resentment they had for each other had dissipated.
Yet Crosshair feels he's ready to and needs to truly reconcile with his brother. Despite everything he's faced, he feels he has an outlet now, and he uses it and basically starts his healing process.
(PS - There’s a great side-by-side comparison of this scene vs. the S1 finale here.)
And, as I said, in the final shot we see the Outpost still covered in snow, but now there are tunnels going into/out of the base. There is now a way out, a way forward.
Allegory #2: The Wyrm is a Bad Thing
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Just as in Allegory #1, the Outpost represents Crosshair -- isolated, abandoned and purposeless. But, now we're going to switch gears on what the Bad Batch and the Wyrm represent.
After months of isolation on Tantiss, Crosshair has his guard up. He isn't letting anyone in. He isn't letting anyone save him.
Until Omega.
It's clear from 3.01-3.05 that he has bonded with her in a way he hasn't bonded with anyone since arguably Mayday.
That's because he keeps letting people in, and then failing them and subsequently losing them -- his brothers, especially Tech; then Cody; and then Mayday. It's partly why he pushed Omega away so much on Tantiss. He definitely wanted her to increase her chances of escaping successfully by not risking breaking him out too, but he also didn't want to get emotionally close to her after failing and losing so many other people.
But, thanks to Omega, he escapes Tantiss and reunites with his brothers, and he suggests they go to the Outpost to pull more intel on Tantiss.
Under Allegory #2, by bringing them to Barton IV and the Outpost, Crosshair is inviting them into his heart. And the fact that the group debates whether Omega should go and that it's Omega who ultimately deactivates the sensors is significant.
The Bad Batch, specifically Omega, deactivating the Outpost’s sensors represents how they make Crosshair feel vulnerable again.
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Just as the base’s guards were up until they (specifically Omega) deactivated them, so too were Crosshair's guards up until his family (specifically Omega) re-entered his life and his heart.
This is partly why, when Hunter confronts him about betraying their family and then the Empire, Crosshair goes for the proverbial throat by bringing up Hunter's insecurities about failing Omega.
For a combination of reasons, Crosshair is feeling vulnerable for the first time in a long time, and while Hunter had very reasonable concerns and questions, he picked the worst possible moment to confront Crosshair about it.
Enter: the Wyrm.
Under Allegory #2, the Wyrm represents everything that threatens Crosshair and his heart -- whether that's external threats like the Empire or Tantiss, or internal threats like his fear and trauma.
After Crosshair comes face-to-face with the Wyrm, his initial response is to confront it alone. He likely feels guilty for endangering his family by bringing them to the Outpost, and doesn't want to risk failing and subsequently losing them the way he lost Mayday and others.
However, Hunter and the others emphasize that Crosshair can't and shouldn't face the Wyrm alone -- that they have to do it together.
Hunter also says: "Then let's get to it, before it tears this place apart." Crosshair and his family have to work together to protect the base, the same way they have to work together to protect him.
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Allegory #2 fits better in the larger context of Season 3, specifically everything that happens after this episode.
Crosshair insists on facing CX-2 alone in 3.07 "Extraction" and would've died if Howzer and the others hadn't saved him. He is alone in 3.11 "Point of No Return" when he misses the shot to track Omega's ship. And he feels like, because of his failures, he needs to spare Hunter and Wrecker by infiltrating Tantiss alone in 3.15 "The Cavalry Has Arrived."
But, just as the Bad Batch work together to restore the Outpost's defenses and protect it from the Wyrm, Crosshair is best protected when he is with his family -- when they are working together.
With prompting from Hunter, Omega helps Crosshair to start facing his physical and emotional trauma in 3.08 "Bad Territory." His brothers refuse to let him infiltrate Tantiss alone in 3.15 "The Cavalry Has Arrived," and after they get captured, Echo and Omega work to break them out. And, when faced with an impossible shot to save Omega from Hemlock, Crosshair makes it thanks to Hunter's support and Omega's faith in him.
These are situations he wouldn't have been able to navigate alone, just as he wouldn't have been able to face the Wyrm and protect the Outpost alone. Heck, even Batcher helps Crosshair find and save Hunter after he falls into the tunnel. He probably couldn’t have done that by himself.
Crosshair needed his family to support and protect him from both his external and internal threats, just as they protected the Outpost.
So, in the final shot of 3.05 "The Return," we see the ship flying away from the Outpost. The Wyrm's tunnels are visible in the snow -- reminiscent of scars or wounds -- but the Outpost is still standing, still protected.
Analyzing the Title, Final Thoughts
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I honestly can't decide which allegory I like better. I think they can both be powerful ways to interpret and 'read' the episode. Let me know if you have any additional insights or opinions.
As I said, I really love how emotionally poignant and significant this episode is. Just like 2.09 "The Crossing" was about Tech and Omega's bond, 3.05 "The Return" is definitely about Crosshair's bond with Hunter specifically, but his family in general.
Like Jennalysis says in The Crossing allegory analysis, I also enjoy thinking of all the things a TBB episode title can refer to. The Return has a lot of options:
Crosshair's return to Barton IV, obviously
Omega's return to Pabu, and her return to Hunter and Wrecker
Echo's return to the Bad Batch family, even if temporarily
Under Allegory 1: Hope returning to Crosshair's life and heart, as Hunter alludes to in the final line: "And who knows? There just might be hope for us yet."
Under Allegory 2: Crosshair's physical and emotional return to his family; or said another way, allowing his family to return to his heart
There might be more but that's all I have for now. As I said, this will end up being Part 2 of a much larger analysis on the episode. I plan to write Part 1, which will break down Hunter and Crosshair's character beats and some other fun details, in the coming days.
Stay tuned! :)
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justaweasel · 8 months
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Random uhhh obey me headcanons
Just to psych people out Lord Diavolo will tell people that they're "lying" even if they are fully telling the truth.
(This one is lowkey based off me 😭) Lucifer, Lord Diavolo, Levi, and Luke will all track their packages. Like will obsess over it. If they get a notification that their package is "in transit", they will be super happy and freak out wherever they are (mostly Dia and Luke though).
Solomon has adapted his mindset to do everything last minute (deadliner as my teacher says) except if it's really super duper mega important. This is mostly because my dude just does NOT give a crap
Simeon will always feel rushed when shopping with people and will 100% make rash decisions that lead to him regretting things. Once he missed out on using a "first time customer coupon" on something he actually liked just because he was out with someone and made a rash decision because poor guy felt like he was taking too much time debating on buying something.
Shopping online is almost like a nightmare for Thirteen because she's very particular about her clothing and online you can't try items out or check how it feels like.
Mammon 1000% has a chair with a pile of clothes on it constantly, people with messy rooms you know what I'm talking about
Okay tahts it byeeeeeeee
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marcilled · 9 months
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i had to take a little while to formulate my thoughts on that marcille illustration trigger put out, cuz ive seen a lot of people in the fandom draw complaints about it and i both agree and disagree with the common complaints.
everyone is right about the titillating pose being incredibly ooc for marcille. the problem isn't that trigger is trying to sexualize her, it's that they get her characterization wrong while doing so, imo. it's important that she is a slightly neurotic, easily flustered "failgirl". she's a clean freak. if she's going to be lying in repose on the dirty floor looking sexily at someone she'd only do it for a purpose (or for falin). she's not some generic anime waifu and they have to understand that or they're gonna have a lot of disappointed fans!
that being said, i really appreciate that they managed to put some horny energy into that illustration without making marcille show a lot of skin. She's just wearing her usual blue robes- it's moreso the pose/expression that imparts the "horny energy", and that, at least, is correct to me- I'd argue it matches the same energy that Ryoko kui often gives out with her art! This isn't like kill la kill, and honestly thank god. That was something i was incredibly worried about when i heard trigger was adapting dungeon meshi. They still have the opportunity to fail me, but i haven't seen any overtly misogynist fanservice from them on this show so far yet. Making marcille ooc for the purpose of being sexy does make me worry, though, that's a troubling sign...
However, as much as i find it to be a troubling sign, I think people are getting a bit too psyched out on this issue. It honestly makes sense that they'd release some fanservice-y promotional art like this before the anime airs, it draws people in and invites discussion after all lol. it doesn't necessarily represent or even say anything at all about what marcille is going to be like in the anime itself! there's the concern that it does represent how she'll be handled in the anime of course, but it's hard to really say for sure. personally, i'm going to hold my breath until the first episode drops at midnight tonight. i'm maintaining my optimism, i feel really excited about this anime.
no matter what happens, i'm just glad that so many new folks are going to get to experience this story that i love so much! It's never going to compare to the manga itself, but I have hopes it'll still be really good regardless. If you find yourself liking the anime but having gripes with how they handled parts of it, just read the manga! it's well-worth it, Dungeon meshi is a story worth reading one page at a time.
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