#so now if the members remember me which unfortunately other people have said they have really good memory

[queenimmadolla]

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞

(A Lisa Frankenstein, Eddie Munson AU)

next ┊ 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Summary: After a series of unfortunate events in your life, and lonelier than ever, you often turn to a dead guy and his tombstone for comfort. Never in your wildest, fucked up dreams did you imagine he’d turn to you for the same thing, but you find yourself hiding a living corpse, bringing him further to life, reaping some justice, and cutting off a lot of body parts all while trying to fit in and falling in love.

a/n: Part One is here! Just want to say thank you to my friends for hearing me rant and rave about Lisa Frankenstein for weeks now, though I’ve been unbearable with this concept in my head. This will be the longest chapter, just to establish some stuff, but we’ll get to the slaying! Hope you love Undead!Zombie!Eddie as much as I do. Happy reading! (p.s.,there will be some romantic smut in a later part)

Chapter warnings: a bit steve harrington x reader, some eddie munson x other female, death of a family member, brief description of SA (bordered with RED DIVIDERS if you’d like to skip), mistreatment of Reader, suicidal ideation (reader just has dark humor), implied murder, very campy, very cunty.

THEN, 1986.

  “Where you head’n too so in a hurry, boy?” Wayne Munson asked, sat on the couch with a mug of steaming hot coffee in one hand and the television remote in the other as he watched his nephew bounce around the trailer, grabbing all of the the items he let haphazardly around. 

  Wayne always told him to pick up his things, but like the rambunctious boy he was, there was no breaking out of his messy habits.

  “I got people to see, pops. Things to do. Trouble to ‘cause, cops to anger, you know the drill.” Eddie didn’t even need to turn around to know his uncle was scowling but he was proven correct when he turned to throw his father figure a shit eating grin over his shoulder, “Kidding, old man. Mom had me baptized when I was a baby, remember? I can do no wrong, like Achilles.” 

  “Wha’?”

  “Ugh, dad. If I have to explain the joke, it ruins it. I’ll be back by dinner, alright?”

  Wayne fixed him with a pointed look, “You best be on your best behavior, you hear me?”

  “Always.” Eddie gave a mock salute before dipping out the front door, still grinning as he tossed the keys of the van and caught them midair. 

  While he wasn’t necessarily going to cause trouble, he certainly would be providing the fun grass, powder and pills that were often behind it. Eddie knew Wayne was aware of what he did, had implied so when talking about how he knew Eddie was a good kid, just living in the wrong circumstances sometimes. Always said he wanted nothing but the best for his boy and for Eddie to realize he was meant for more than what this particular town forced on him. 

  Made Eddie’s chest tight, but seeing things like the broken patio board—Eddie had accidentally stomped through it after seeing a spider—reinforced Eddie’s belief that he’d much rather help out any way he could than let his uncle bear the financial weight of providing for him. 

  The van roared to life, after sputtering for a good seven seconds, and Eddie revved the engine a little. As he let her warm up, something in the side mirror caught his attention. 

  Someone. 

  Sheila. His neighbor in the trailer across the street. She was hauling a box to a car, looked rather heavy and Eddie would have dropped everything to scramble over and help her, had it not been for Mr.Brawn at her side. 

  Eddie watched as the guy, who stole the girl he was in love with right out of his arms, grabbed the box. The two lovers exchanged words which ended with them laughing at something as she followed him to the car.

  He slid the box into the packed car as she climbed into the passenger seat, and before Eddie knew it, he was watching her drive away, right out of his life forever.

  Eddie hadn’t even realized he was clutching his steering wheel so tight, his knuckles were straining against the skin, hot tears pooling at his waterline but he refused to let them fall. He’d shed more than enough tears over her, over what could have been.

  They started off so promising; throwing flirty waves from their bedroom windows, occasionally at school, before she approached him for weed. After that, came the whirlwind romance and Eddie hadn’t considered himself a romantic before—hadn’t had a whole lot of opportunities to make that discovery but he was so fucking romantic. A big sap. And he wasn’t ashamed of it. 

  Until she’d graduated, and he hadn’t. Again. Turns out, not trying at academics all year and then aiming to ace finals wasn’t enough. 

  Suddenly, all the bullshit naive plans they had to run away somewhere far from Hawkins weren’t possible. At least, Sheila couldn’t with Eddie. 

  He lost her to a guy in another band, had made the mistake of taking a piss after he and Corroded Coffin performed to their tiny ass crowd, and had come back to see her talking to the keyboardist of the band that had gone on before them. She looked entranced, leaning forward to hang on to whatever the fuck he was saying. When Eddie had gone over to ask her if she was ready to head out, fully prepared to tuck her under his arm and way from the keyboardist, she’d insisted and told him to his face, in front of his apparent competition, that she was gonna stick around a little longer and he should head out without her.

  He’d spent the entire night pacing in front of his window, glancing out of it every five minutes and every time he heard a pair of wheels turn onto the dirt road. Eddie got his confirmation when his car happened to be one of them. He’d watched, heart splintering, as the keyboardist got out of the car and walked around to open her door for her before they disappeared into her trailer. Eddie knew her dad worked nights. Knew what she and that musician were doing and he’d thrown up the entire contents of his stomach at the imagery before passing out.

  Eddie woke up to Sheila hovering above him and framed by the glow of the bathroom light like some angel. She’d dumped him right there and left the spare key he’d trusted her with on the table.

  And now, she was living her dream with someone else while Eddie got to stick around this shitty town with these people who could barely stand him for no reason (and yeah, okay, maybe he’d poke their buttons). In truth, while he was a little heartbroken over her, it was the fact that she still got her happy ending that hurt the most.

  The girls around Hawkins might have been interested in maybe hooking up with him, but they weren’t interested in being Eddie’s girl. Weren’t interested in falling stupid in love with him, making plans to start a life together. Didn’t want him in their plans.

  Eddie Munson was lonely. And it sucked.

  With a heavy sigh, he cranked on the radio, fingers twisting the volume dial up to the most obnoxious level before shifting the gear to drive.

  “It’ll get better, Munson. Love ain’t no stranger.” He mumbled, sucking on his teeth and pulling out on the road.

  If he had known then where it would lead him, where the night would take him, he would have at least hugged his uncle. It would be the last time he saw him, and it would be the last time Wayne Munson saw his nephew alive.

  Three days later, he’d be identifying and weeping over his boy’s body in the morgue after reporting Eddie missing when he didn’t come home.

  NOW, 1989

  “Where are you going? It’s almost time for breakfast.” Chrissy called out, head poking out from her bedroom as she watched you race down the hall.

  “Not hungry! I’ll be back soon!” You called over your shoulder, the large sheet of craft paper wrinkling in your hand as you took the stairs two at a time before bounding down the short entryway.

  You’d almost crossed the foyer and then slammed yourself back against the wall as you saw Laura, Chrissy’s mom, fiddling with something at the table. She had the radio on, some garbage self help tape spewing nonsense to her, and that condescending smile on her face.

  Yeah, you’d be avoiding her, lest you wish to be verbally and eloquently belittled. How Chrissy came out of her toxic womb to be such a good person, you’d never understand. 

  When Laura crossed into the kitchen, you sprinted for the door, fumbling a little with the knob in your urgency, but once you got it open, you were out, running across the walkway and the fencing around the house until you were in the woods behind it.

  Only then did you feel safe, the trees a welcome reprieve from your living situation, the magnifying glass this new town had you under, and from the world in general.

  You’d come from a small town before Hawkins, so you were used to small town living. But these people were so judgemental. You hadn’t even grabbed a box from the moving van before your neighbors were casting you snide looks, noses turning up and backs to you as they watered their yard and lounged about.

  Four months later, nothing had changed. If anything, they were more open with their disdain for you, commenting on your demeanor (and you were a cool fucking person), outfits, hair, body. It was annoying. They were annoying. EVERYTHING was annoying. 

  You didn’t even want to be there but you had no real choice. You’d graduated high school a couple of years ago and despite the popular teenage notion that you’d simply pack up your things, go to college and be successful at whatever career you wanted, life did not happen like the movies. The freedom you’d been promised by your own delusions never came. That bitch came with a hefty price tag and you weren’t exactly jumping into a safe of gold coins like Scrooge McDuck with your minimum wage job. 

  You’d gotten into several schools of your choice, but scholarships wouldn’t be nearly enough to cover it, and you’d literally have to sell your entire body to science if you wanted to be able to afford the loans you were being offered, since their interest rates were higher than the standard human beings’ lifespan. 

  So, living with the ‘rents was checked off on your list of things you didn’t want to continue doing past your high school graduation. And hey—you were only 19 years-old! You were still young! Just save up a few years, and maybe one day you’d be able to think about taking a loan. You had time. What could possibly go wrong to throw your plans off?

  Your mother was murdered.

  Yeah, that was a bummer. Could’ve been worse, you supposed. You could have died with her, when your home had been broken into, and sometimes you wish you had. Alas, you were still breathing, albeit extremely traumatized. But only good ol’ mom was six feet in the ground, in an entirely different town, because your father had also moved on a mere few months after her death, with the worst woman to leave flaming footprints on the earth’s crust, and they’d eloped after like six dates before moving you to a town where you knew no one.

  Thinking about it actually made you sick and feel a little delusional. 

  The only real good thing about your entire soap opera of a year was the community college you’d been able to enroll in. You had no real idea what you wanted to do in life, had no real drive for career paths, but you were doing something, and that something kept the she-devil that was your stepmother off your back. Most of the time. Some of the time. She couldn’t say you were a deadbeat yet.

  Chrissy, your sweet to a definitive and insensitive fault step-sister had pushed you into going with her for registration. Convinced you it was the perfect way to make some friends. It was hard to say no to Chrissy, she had a way with people and could make the meekest soul feel like they were capable of anything and everything. She could always see the best in people, and she was outgoing. Your time in Hawkins had been brief, but you’d easily gathered Chrissy was popular, a former cheerleader (and she’d successfully tried out for the community college team) and beloved by all. While part of you felt a little jealous at her confidence, you admired her more. She was never intentionally mean to you, either. She made the occasional comment, but it seemed like Chrissy had more so a filter problem, rather than spitting anything out with sugar coated hostility like her mother. Chrissy was...nice. After everything you've been through, you could use a little nice in your life.

  And sometimes nice was also the woods behind your house, as it led to the Hawkins’ Cemetery. 

  Morbid, sure, but you couldn’t help yourself. After a particularly nasty encounter with Laura the first week of your Hawkins sentence, and feeling lonelier than you’d ever felt before, you’d gone for a walk, tears decorating your face with wet trails as you tried to physically hold yourself together, arms wrapped around yourself. 

  You’d arrived at the cemetery, and because you couldn’t pay your mother a visit, you decided the only decent thing to do was visit other lonely souls.

  You’d stopped to pay your respects to just about every tombstone and plaque, but one in particular caught your attention.

  Tucked away in a corner and separate from the other graves, under a weeping willow, was the most damaged tombstone of them all. Parts of it were broken off, a lot of the information pertaining to the individual underneath it was seemingly grated off. You had no idea who it was, the only remaining legible letters were MUN and you figured it was he simply because you’d taken some paper to the tombstone for etching and ran a black crayon over it. You’d been able to make out the word ‘he’ on the paper and deduced it had once read may he rest in peace. 

  The state of his tombstone surprised you, given how recent the date of death was. While his birth date had also been worn away, the year of death—1986–had been left. It was 1989. No way his grave should’ve looked like that.

  Apparently, even the groundskeeper avoided his part of the cemetery. The grass around his grave was overgrown, and pitiful. So, you’d gone home, grabbed the lawn mower, and pushed it all the way over. You’d ended up disgusting, covered in grass, dirt and sweating like a cheater on a Sunday morning, but his grave was looking better. You’d taken to caring for his grave after that. A bunch of your trinkets and things you'd seen that you immediately thought he’d like surrounded him now and you’d even planted some bluebells. 

  He also made surprisingly good conversation, even though he never talked to you. His presence, while mostly imaginary to you, was comforting. 

  So, during any free time you had, you were sat against his tombstone, chatting about your day, life, whatever you wanted. Felt like he was always listening, no matter the subject and it was really lovely to be heard.

  When you arrived at the cemetery, it was practically vacant, with just the red headed girl you normally saw. You didn’t see her all the time, she was just one of the faces you saw the most, and that was only a handful of occasions. For the most part, Hawkins didn’t seem keen on remembering the dead. 

  “Hope you haven’t been lonely without me,” You greeted as you approached his tombstone, ducking under a few low hanging willow branches that still brushed over you anyways. You’d have to ‘borrow’ Laura’s shears soon, the willow tree was hauntingly beautiful around his grave, but you wanted its branches and leaves to frame his grave, not conceal it, “I missed you.”

  It was a little odd, but you did. 

  When you weren’t at his grave, you were thinking about him, trying to put a face to MUN, wondering what his life had been like. Did he have any loved ones? What had his interests been? How had he died? Had he felt as lonely as you did?

  “I know, I know.” You settled onto the grass in front of his tombstone, securing the craft paper to his tombstone with some masking tape, “I was just here last night.” You imagined he would say.

  “I just can’t stay away from you. You have a very intriguing aura: I can’t see it because you’re dead, and that makes me want to know you more.” You pulled a black crayon from your pocket and went about scribbling on the paper, over where you knew MUN would be etched in stone, “I’ve said it a million times, and you’ve probably turned over in your coffin repeatedly because of it, but you’re the only one who understands me. And you’re the only one here that I care about—probably in the whole world actually, except maybe Chrissy but I know her friends think I’m weird, and I don’t want to drag her down with me.”

  Once the letters appeared on the paper, you sprawled out STER and you dropped the crayon to produce a pretty hot pink marker from your pocket instead, signing your name with a little heart to go with it just above the last name you’d crafted for him.

  The odds of this dude being a Munster were slim to none, but you thought it was fitting for someone who lived in a cemetery.

  You sat back on your haunches to admire it, it was a cute piece. Would look nice on your wall and whenever you missed him and found yourself longing to be near his grave, all you’d have to do is turn on your side and you'd be able to see part of him. 

  You ripped the paper off his tombstone, and weighed it down on the grass with a rock. With that out of the way, you gave him your full attention, shuffling until your head and shoulder were leaning against the stone, “Would you wanna be dragged down with me? Be seen with me? I’m somewhat of a pariah around here. Did you have better luck when you were still kicking?”

  You figured with how fucked up his tombstone had been, probably not. You imagined he’d confirm it, too. Just out right say, ‘Nah, these assholes hated me.’

  “Yeah, looks like we’re two peas in a pod.” Then you glanced down, fingers, twirling the blades of grass over his grave, “Or, you know. Casket.”

  You let silence fall over you, broken only by the chirping of birds in surrounding trees.

  “Goddamit, why do you have to be dead?” Your eyelids fluttered close, and instead of the cold stone, you imagined your head pressed against a warm chest, rising and falling with breaths, and a heartbeat thumping strong below your ear, pushing blood throughout his body. Imagined he was alive, arms slipping around you, firm and strong to hold you together so you didn't have to anymore.

  But he wasn’t, and you were reminded when the groundskeeper shouted, “HEY!”

  You shot up, glancing around until you saw him by the entrance with a leaf blower, “YOU AWAKE?”

  What kind of a dumbass question was that? Sure, it had looked like you were asleep but you were clearly alert now.

  “YEAH!” You shrieked back to be heard, and he went back to not caring. 

  “He can see me leaning against your tombstone, but he can’t see overgrown grass, weeds, rocks, or your grave in general when I’m not here. Men, always so selective, amirite?”

  You glanced at the stone, half expecting it to respond. “Eh, what do you know, you’re just a man, too.” You reached your arm back, knuckles trailing over MUN.

  “Despite you mouthing off to me most of the time, I brought you something.” You reached into your other pocket and pulled out a necklace, lined with black pearls and a cross pendant. It had been your mother’s. While she had a pension for religion, it wasn’t something you thought about. Dying, sure, but whatever afterlife? Not so much. Felt wrong, sometimes, to carry it around with you—felt like you were disrespecting her a little bit to not believe what she did, even though she had no qualms with it when she was alive. So, you figured why not trust it with the other important person in your life?

  “Pretty, huh? It was my mom’s. She’s dead, like you. You wouldn’t happen to have seen her around, would you?” You joked, fingers stroking over the pearls. There was no risk in leaving them with your dead friend, people avoided him and you had a feeling even grave robbers wouldn’t dare step near the willow, so they’d probably be with him for the rest of eternity, “I want you to have them, take care of them for me.”

  You placed the necklace over the peak of his tombstone, smiling when they didn’t fall from their place, “Mm, you look good in them. Better than I do, I’m not big on pearls. More of a silver jewelry kind of girl. I could do gold and diamonds, though, only for a wedding ring.”

  You held your arm out, admiring your ring hand void of any actual rings, “Nothing too gaudy, of course. That’s what my earrings are for.” 

  Your eyes trailed from your outstretched fingers, to your wrist, and the watch decorating it. The time made you heave a heavy sigh, “I gotta go. Chrissy’s dragging me to a party tonight, so I’ve got to mentally prepare for that. You’ll think of me while I’m away, won’t you?”

  Trailing a finger down the stone, you leaned forward to press your lips to it in a sweet kiss. 

  “I’ll be back soon, and this time I won’t forget my book of sonnets. I know how much you love the cynical poems I force on you.”

  And though you announced your departure, you found it hard to leave him, like you always did. It took all you had to gather your crayon, marker, and your new poster (and you kept dropping all three to have an excuse to linger) and leave the cemetery behind, glancing back impulsively every couple of steps until it was no longer in view, and the moment it wasn’t you wanted to drop everything and run back to him.

  You had to remind yourself he was a stranger, who didn’t care for you, rotting in the ground. And it sucked. 

  “I don’t wanna go.” You announced, staring into the bathroom mirror you shared with Chrissy. You’d just finished your makeup, eyes heavily lined, and lashes coated an electric blue that made your eyes pop. You were always a little heavy handed with your makeup, you figured the whole point of it was to use it as you wanted. Your hair had been manipulated to hell and back, but regardless of what you did, you were unsatisfied with the girl staring back at you, “I’ll just stay home.”

  “Not on my watch!” Chrissy declared, reaching in front of you for her pink lipstick. The bathroom counter was littered with your combined beauty products, “This is the first major rager of the year, the perfect social gathering. You need to meet people, sissy.” 

  You scowled at the idea, “I have met people.”

  Chrissy tubed the lipstick bullet, rubbing her lips together as she gave you a concerned side-eye, “People who like you, sissy.”

  Ouch, there’s that brutal honesty.

  “It’s not good for you to be on your own all the time,” She set the lipstick down so she could place a dainty hand on your shoulder, big blue eyes focused on you, “I worry about you. Daddy and mom worry about you. Your doctor worries about you. You need to get out more.” Chrissy stressed, pink lips pulling into a reassuring smile before she went back to focusing on the mirror and her makeup.

  You let out a heavy sigh, mulling her words over. Definitely could have been phrased better, but Chrissy was right. You were currently the town recluse, and occupying your room and the town cemetery wouldn’t change that. 

  “That blush isn’t the right shade for you, sissy.” Chrissy broke you from your thoughts and your eyes drifted back over to your reflection, the girl looking so unsure and right back at you, “You really have to accentuate your features, compliment them, because you’re already beautiful.” 

  Didn’t feel like it.

  Your expression must have given your inner thoughts away because Chrissy turned to you again, practically bouncing, “Wait a minute, you could use my tanning bed!”

  You deadpanned at the mention of the ridiculous full on salon tanning bed that Chrissy owned. There was a dedicated mini garage in the backyard for it, next to the pool, and complete with neon lights, her beauty pageant trophies and sashes as well as her cheer trophies. The PG&E bill was always through the roof for the Tan Shack alone, and you still had no idea how Laura could afford it.

  “No, Chrissy I-I don’t think that would work on me. At all.”

  Chrissy waved off your concerns, “It’s not about the tan, or even if you can tan. It’s the experience. When I lay in that tanning bed, with those little goggles on my eyes and I can hear the buzzing, I feel myself blooming. Regardless of whether or not my skin actually tans,” It didn’t. Chrissy burned but she somehow still looked good, “I feel amazing about myself.”

  “Are you sure that’s not cancer?”

  “You’re so funny!” Chrissy laughed even though you were being serious, “Sissy, every girl deserves to feel beautiful. If I can provide you with an experience that might raise those confidence levels that are dragging across a nail-covered floor right now, why wouldn’t I?”

  Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to decipher if that was a compliment or not, but you didn’t have long to mull it over before Chrissy was framing your face with her hands. 

  “And I can. Please, let me do this.”

  You groaned, long and drawn out and awkward, before squeezing your eyes shut and slowly nodding your head. She squealed, clapped her hands together and dragged you out of the bathroom.

  After explaining how it all worked, Chrissy bid you a cheerful goodbye and left you to your own devices so she could finish getting ready for the night ahead of you both.

  You’d selected your tan level, positive you wouldn’t see any real results but maybe the ‘experience’ would benefit you and shed your fuzzy slippers and robe, leaving you in some boy shorts and a tank top as you tried to settle yourself in the tanning bed. The dip was awkward, and you couldn’t get a good grasp on the top of the tanning bed since it was meant to only open and close rather than stay in position so grasping onto it for balance as you lowered yourself in led to you conking yourself on the head with a noticeable bonk.

  You hissed in pain, rubbing the sore area as you clambered the rest to the way in. Once you’d stretched your legs out, lowered the top, maneuvered the goggles over your face and waited for the magic to happen as you were surrounded by neon blue lights.

  You heard the buzzing as the tanning bed started up. The magic happened alright. The entire tanning bed shocked you, and you shrieked as you felt the intense electric current ripple throughout your body, sparking every single pore in the worst way possible.

“I’m so sorry you got electrocuted, sissy.”

  Chrissy broke the silence as you sulked in the passenger seat, your hair a little bigger than normal and not a result of styling. After getting all five senses shocked out of you, you’d come out with a hairdo that would not usually be up to par with you, and some serious case of static electricity. You’d tried to gently press your hair down and when you saw a literal spark in it, you decided to just leave it alone.

  Your step-sister had been apologizing since.

  “It’s alright. I survived.” And you wanted to forget about it. 

  You could see Chrissy glancing nervously at you from the corner of your eye as she drove you to the party location.

  “So…how are you liking Hawkins Community, so far?” She asked, thankfully changing the subject. 

  “It’s fine. The campus looks relatively the same as the community college I toured in my old town. Classes are decent.” Pitiful. The classes were so boring and straight out of the book, but it cost you a fraction of a fraction of what you’d have to pay to attend a university. 

  Chrissy lips turned up in a mischievous smile and you internally groaned, fully expecting her next question.

  “See any cute boys?” And then, as an afterthought, “Or…girls?” Then she took her eyes off the road again, squinting at you as if she was trying to assess something, “Or…..anyone?” 

  You betrayed yourself, eyes darting to the window before they were back on her and she perked up in the driver’s seat. 

  “Okay, spill.”

  Your heart started thumping wildly in your chest as one particular guy came to mind, but you hadn’t thought about him too much. Hadn’t allowed yourself to entertain the idea of a romance with him. That’s how people got their hopes up and letdown.

  “Sissy! Sissy, come on. You have to tell me. I’m your only friend!” 

  This time, you could tell she was joking, even though she did have merit. You bit your lip as she ribbed you a bit more, the corners of your lips tugging up into a smile. 

  “Okay, okay!” Your hands flew to cover your face, embarrassed, shy and a little giddy all at once to actually be admitting you had a crush. 

  “Steve Harrington.”

  “STEVE HARRINGTON?” She repeated, incredulous and you shushed her even though it was only you two in the car.

  “Sissy, that’s so unexpected! I haven’t really seen him since high school but I didn’t think he’d be your type.” Chrissy admitted with a shrug of her shoulders.

  “He works in the library.” You sighed out, recalling your brief interactions with him when checking out a couple of books. He’d been kind, made a couple of humorous comments about the titles, and always tried to meet your avoidant gaze, which meant he was being nice to you. Coaxing you out of your shell. You actually didn't have much trouble interacting with people, you were more abrasive than you ever were shy, Steve was just a little too easy on the eyes. Made you forget how to talk, and on occasion, walk. It was embarrassing, “Always makes those cute displays with recommendations.”

  “Good for him,” She commented, sounding impressed. “I didn’t really know he was intellectual. Wasn’t, the last I heard. Had a big reputation in high school, seemed kind of mean and everyone called him King Steve.”

  You frowned, feeling the need to protect him, “Didn’t they call you the Queen of Hawkins High?”

  “Yeah, but only to make me seem pretentious.” 

  You raised your eyebrows, glancing away. Chrissy was kind, but sometimes, she could be pretentious.

  “And anyways, I’m not a student at Hawkins High anymore, so they can’t call me that. Maybe Steve really did change. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard much about him since he struck out with a series of girls. Maybe he took a good look at himself and decided a change was needed.” You could feel her eyes on you again. 

  “Does he flirt with you?”

  “No.”

  “See him flirt with any girls?”

  “Nope.”

  “Does he still make his hair all big and poofy?”

  “Looks more voluminous than poofy.”

  Chrissy hummed, “An improvement. Is he all beret wearing and drinking coffee now?”

  You tried to recall ever seeing him in a hat, let alone a beret, “No, I don’t think so. If anything, he’s introspective.”

  “He’s on the spectrum?”

  Your smile waned when you realized she was asking a legitimate question, “Oh. No. That’s—that’s not what that means. I just meant he’s thinking about what he does; how he acts, how he behaves.”

  It got quiet for a few moments.

  ”Well,” Chrissy broke the silence once more, “He might be there tonight. I’m not sure if they’re still friends, but Tommy Hagan is hosting tonight, and once upon a time, they were inseparable.”

  You made a sound of acknowledgment, upper lip twitching in disgust. You knew Tommy, saw him around campus. He was a big jerk, you’d witnessed him throw some guy’s backpack in the trash and pour his drink on it. You wish you’d known it was his party you were going to in advance. Tommy was a nasty piece of work, so his friend group was the same. Out of all of them, though, Carol got on your nerves the most. 

  She didn’t pay you a whole lot of attention, but when you were walking in with Chrissy—and this is Chrissy, so she acknowledged everyone—and she said hi, Carol would just look you up and down before pursing her big mouth like she’d sucked on something sour. One day, you’d like to give her your fist to suck on.

  ”Patrick McKinney is bringing three kegs and I heard Reefer Rick is bringing his whole inventory.”

  “Reefer Rick?”

  “Yeah, he’s the local drug dealer now. I mean, he’s always been but he used to have somebody sell for him while he supplied, but he died.”

  Your eyes widened while your pupils dilated, mind conjuring up some image of a poor dude being murdered for drugs and then the supplier just taking over, not fearful at all of meeting the same fate, “He died?”

  Chrissy nodded her head, looking thoughtful, “Yeah, Eddie Munson.”

  Munson.

  You sat up in your seat, fully alert and invested in the conversation now, “Eddie Munson? Is he buried under the willow tree in the cemetery?”

  You stared at Chrissy, willing her to think faster as she squinted and pursed her lips, “I think Tina mentioned something about someone peeing on a tree over there, so I think so.”

  Your mouth dropped open, expression utterly horrified that someone could do that, “That’s beastly, what the fuck?”

  “I know,” Chrissy sighed with a shake of her head. “I didn't know him all that much, bought some weed off of him a couple of times and he seemed a little scary—appearance and mannerism wise—but he seemed nice when you had to interact with him. He didn’t deserve that.”

  “How did he die?” You asked, voice small and heart shrinking. You didn’t like where this was going. Didn’t like it one bit.

  “Well, the official determination, if I remember right, was like a drug deal gone bad or something, but no one really believes it. He was known to have weed on him, kept the harder stuff somewhere else. Everyone knows he was murdered. They did a number on him, it was all everyone could talk about because Sydney Porter couldn’t even get her dad—he worked at the station—to show her pictures. He told her they messed Eddie up bad. People here really didn’t like him. No one knows who did it though.”

  You sunk back into your seat, mind troubled and stomach turning. This whole time, you'd been tending to and caring for the grave of a murdered guy, taken from this world simply because people didn’t like him. He must have been so lonely. So scared. And they killed him.

  Chrissy was wrong. People in this town knew who killed him, because one of them, or some of them, had to have been his murderers.

  Your fingers curled into tight fists, painted nails digging into the flesh of your palms. Chrissy noticed the change in your demeanor.

  “Oh, sissy. You’re such an empath. Don’t be so sad, I know it’s a horrible story, but he’s resting now. In peace.”

  “No, he’s not. They fucked up his tombstone. He can’t even be dead in peace.” You huffed, furious on his behalf.

  “How do you know?” Chrissy asked, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow. 

  “I go there a lot, it’s nice. Quiet. A little creepy, but that adds to its charm, makes it relatively peaceful. I’ve been visiting all the graves, but I was drawn to him the most. Etched his tombstone. He’s my favorite.”

  Despite the horrors you’d learned, the thought of Mun—Eddie, still brought a wistful smile to your lips. Maybe your presence was enough to settle him, bring him a little bit of peace this town and the people in it refused to give him.

  “H-He’s your favorite…?”

  “Yeah. I feel this….connection with him. From the very first time I visited. Now, I leave him gifts, flowers, pretty stones, poems I wrote, a book of sonnets I stole from the library.”

  “You….should talk to your doctor about this, Sissy. That’s really weird. That’s really weird, sissy.”

  You fought to not roll your eyes. As much as you cared about Chrissy, and knew she cared about you, she didn’t understand you. 

  “Well, since people ruined his grave, I thought it might be nice to clean it up and make sure he’s not forgotten.” You snapped, “It’s not like I call him my boyfriend or anything.”

  Chrissy eyed you skeptically, “Well, then that’s nice of you, I guess. Just don’t go around telling everybody about that, or you’ll be known as the Ghost Whisperer.”

  “He hasn’t talked back to me yet.”

  Chrissy laughed, and freed one hand off the wheel to lightly slap your arm, “See, now that’s funny. If you do tell anyone, end it with that joke. You’ll be a riot.”

  You smirked, staring out the front windshield. You’d let her think it was a joke. For now.

  You made a sound of displeasure as Chrissy pulled into a clear space on the grass and parked. She jumped out to dance over to her friends, some wine coolers cradled in a plastic bag she clutched.

  You allowed yourself a full minute to stew in your misery before getting out of the car and following after her. As you neared her group, you quickly realized that was a bad idea. 

  “Oh my GOD! Vickie, you fixed your teeth! They look so good. I wasn’t gonna say anything because I thought you were happy with the overcrowding, but now that you fixed it, I can’t look away!”

  Yeesh. You beelined away from them and wandered around the crowded front lawn, dodging rowdy friend groups and couples until you spotted a cooler.

  Maybe a drink would calm you down.

  You squatted down and popped the lid, digging around the ice but all you spotted were Pepsi and Squirt cans.

  “The liquid fun is inside.” A guy’s voice came from behind you and you rolled your eyes. You were so not in the mood to be hit on right now. 

  “What?” You asked, tone bored, but you didn’t want to make him seem helpful so you grabbed a Squirt.

  “Alcohol. He keeps it inside.”

  You slammed the cooler shut and popped the tab of the can, rising to your feet, “Yeah, I figured that mu—shhhh.”

  Oh, shit. 

  Steve Harrington was standing before you, eyes alight with mirth as he smirked down at you.

  You swallowed hard, hoping to god your tongue hadn’t gone down with the movement. See? Here you went getting all stupid around him.

  ”Funny seeing you here.”

  You laughed nervously, “Yeah. I—uh, mhm.” You forced yourself to take a drink of your soda to keep from making an even bigger fool of yourself.

  “Sorry if it’s weird of me to just walk up to you. I was chilling on the side of the house and thought I saw you, but I’m a little nearsighted and I didn’t bring my glasses.”

  You pulled the can away from your mouth as your brain registered the lack of metal frames on the bridge of his nose. He looked handsome with and without them, that wasn’t fair. It was still throwing you off. 

  “It’s—It’s okay. Uhm, no harm done.” You shrugged your shoulders, hoping it looked cool and not as stiff as you felt. You even added in a smile with some teeth for a little razzle dazzle.

  “I actually came over here to tell you your books are significantly overdue.” Steve deadpanned, tongue playing with his canine tooth as he scrutinized you and you shrunk, smile falling from your face. You had got to get better at following up on your due dates.

  “Oh.”

  He scoffed, face breaking out into a grin as his shoulders shook with his chuckles “I’m kidding.”

  OH, THANK FUCK. 

  “Oh,” And then, because every god probably hates you, you started snorting with laughter. You cut that shit quick, clearing your throat as you took another sip of your beverage.

  “So,” Steve took a step closer to you, “Are you enjoying─”

  “Hey!” Carol stepped right up to Steve, practically leaning all over him as her ruby red lips spread into a seductive smile, eyes lidded and no doubt a few drinks in with a drink for Steve in her hand. For the billionth time that night, you rolled your eyes, trying not to gag at how desperate she was. You knew Tommy had recently dumped her, the entire town knew and now she was clearly trying to get into Steve’s pants, “I found the keg.”

  She could eat shit, his pants were yours.

  “Oh, Thank you.” Came Steve’s bleak reply and part of you thought he might have actually wanted to talk to just you. Now, you were really annoyed she’d interrupted.

  “Hey, Carol.”

  Carol looked surprised that you’d even dare speak to her, raising her eyebrows, “Hey. Hi— sorry, how do we know each other?”

  “You’re my lab partner.” You were unimpressed, you expected her to be a better mean girl. 

  “Yay me.” The smile she directed at you was anything but friendly, reminding you of the one Laura would make after you did something in public she didn’t like, but she couldn’t yell at you until you were home. Carol swirled the liquid in her cup around, head tilting as she offered it to you, “You wanna sip, partner?”

  “Carol.” Steve warned and she tutted, flicking her wrist.

  “You’re right, I don’t know why I assumed she partied.”

  “I’ll take a beer,” You could handle alcohol, had cleared your mother’s wine cabinet after she was murdered, so this would be no big deal.

  Carol looked annoyed but handed you the cup, and to make sure you wouldn’t gag and vomit, you threw it back, throat opening as you swallowed the liquid as fast as you could to refuse it as much time on your taste buds as possible.

  When you lowered the cup, you realized you’d made a mistake and glanced into it at the small amount left behind, watching as the ground in your peripheral view began to shift.

  Steve seemed to realize something was wrong, quickly taking your cup and ingesting what was left. His suspicions were confirmed and he spat it out on the grass before scowling at Carol, “PCP? Really, Carol? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the hell would you give that to her!?”

  “Oopsie.”

  But it was too late for you. You dropped the soda can in your other hand and lifted your hands to your face, watching the lines around your palms and fingers begin to move, swirling around and you backed away from them, watching as everything around you began to come undone.

  “Hey!” You heard a voice next to you and someone started rubbing your back, you hadn’t even realized you were crouching. You craned your head up to see Chrissy and you frowned. Her voice was so different, distorted. She sounded more like your dad than Chrissy. 

  Her face was both far away and right in front of you, you reached a hand out to test the theory, see if it really was close. Chrissy caught your wrist, frowning at the state you were falling into.

  Chrissy started asking you questions, about what you’d taken, what you drank but her voice was too loud for you, and the purple behind her head was distracting. Still, you nodded your head.

  At your confirmation, Chrissy’s frown intensified and she helped you to the ground before darting over to chew Steve and Carol out.

  You couldn’t stay on the grass for long, the blades of it stabbing you and sending pain shooting up your palms and into your bones so you crawled some distance away before you managed to push yourself up and stumble towards the house. It was hard.

  Everything was moving. You heard a loud sound and glanced around wildly until you were staring up at the sky, mouth dropping open to see green clouds and lightning. 

  You had to get away, the need to escape, be safe was urgent but it felt like the closer you got to the front door, the farther away it went. Your breathing was heavy and panicked as you kept stumbling forward, arm outstretched and finally you reached it.

  You yanked it open and nearly fell inside, tripping over your feet until you hit the back of the couch and used it to sink to the floor.

  You heard your name being called and lifted your head, eyes crazed as you tried to find the source. Fred Benson approached you, the skinny boy squatting to be eye level with you.

  “You okay?” He asked and you reached forward, grasping his face in your hand and squeezing to make sure he was a real person.

  “You.” Was all you said, booping his nose but still suspicious of him. Was he real?

  “Uh, yeah. It’s me. It’s Fred, we sit next to each other in ASL class.”

  He looked like Fred. You still didn’t believe he was human, squinting as your hands grasped at the back of the couch.

  “You don’t look so good,” Fred pushed the frame of his glasses up his nose, brows furrowed in concern, “Let's find somewhere for you to sit down for a minute. Or maybe a while. Man, what did you drink?”

  He stood up, offering you a hand and you took it but didn’t pull yourself up. Fred heaved with all his might and managed to get you on your feet but he realized just walking you wouldn’t be enough, and so did you because you draped yourself over him, one arm over his scrawny shoulders.

  Fred cursed under his breath but held your weight, leading you out of the populated living room and you watched a couple furiously make out on the couch cushions as you passed.

  “I hate parties. I don’t know why I came—well, actually I do. I never got invited to these in high school, so I guess I’m living out my fantasy now. In all honesty, I’d much rather be watching Weird Science. So far tonight, I’ve seen three cheerleaders throw up and a baby being conceived.”

  “Uh huh,” Was all you could get out, watching people swirl past you like shooting stars.

  “Would you count that as escaping the teen pregnancy statistic? I know they’re out of high school, but we’re all still pretty young.” He commented as he led you up the stairs. You tripped several times and almost sent him flying down them but the two of you managed to make it. 

  Fred was heaving by the time you'd shouldered him into the hallway wall, his face and hands clammy.

  ”Good god, how did I pass P.E.?” The two of you paused there until he regained his breath while you plastered yourself against the wall, cheek pressed to it and hands stroking over the wallpaper. Eventually, Fred peeled you off of it and kept moving until he could find a place to put you.

  “You like movies right? Got any favorite directors? Or favorite films?”

  “Wall.”

  “Huh? Oh, you’re just admiring the wallpaper.”

  “Great Wall of China.”

  Fred positioned you against the wall, looking a little annoyed. You didn’t care, could only focus on the framed photo of the Great Wall of China directly across from you.

  “Oh.” Was all he said when he spotted it. “Stay right here.”

  Then he disappeared and you watched as the painting came to life, and the stones of the wall began moving, rippling. You didn’t even know stones could move like that but now it made so much more sense. 

  Fred appeared again, tugging you along into an empty room. You spotted a trash can and nearly threw Fred into the bedroom wall as you dove for it, retching everything out of your stomach. You could hear Fred gagging, but he was decent enough to make sure your hair stayed out of your way. When you were done, he helped sit you up on the bed, and nearly collapsed next to you.

  ”We did it,” he cheered with no real gusto. And you sat there, still feeling the earth orbiting. It was the most odd sensation, you could feel a spot on your brain pulsing, like a migraine but it felt so euphoric to close your eyes.

  “Here,” They snapped right back open and you glanced to your side to see Fred offering you a handkerchief. Of course Fred Benson carried around a handkerchief. How amusing. 

  “Thank you,” You gave the three versions of him you could see right then a smile and used the handkerchief to wipe your mouth, eyelids fluttering close just as the sound of thunder filled the room, and a flashing of lightning accompanied it.

  “Huh, a rainless thunderstorm, looks like the angels are bowling.” You heard him muse next to you.

  And it brought another smile to your face, “My mom used to say that.”

  At the mention of her, your brain conjured up all the happy feelings and memories of her, huddled on your couch, in your old home watching black and white horror films. They didn’t scare her, so she could tolerate them. You missed her. She made you feel so light, so seen, so—no.

  Something was wrong. Something felt very, very wrong.

  Your smile faded and you felt your belly sink as you opened your eyes.

  “Does that feel good?”

  You didn’t want to, but you looked down to see Fred’s hand on your breast. Your breathing picked up and Fred let go of you to grab your wrist and force you to touch his crotch, “Well don’t just sit there, help me out. Finish what you started.” 

  Anger filled you and you yanked your hand away, “No.”

  Fred opened his mouth as you got up, rushing away from him and stumbling back out the way you remembered while he yelled at you.

  You had to get out, had to get away. Had to be safe, feel safe. You banged against walls as you went, desperate to get out of the house, away from Fred, from everyone, and to safety. That was your only concern as the drug really hit you.

  All you could remember was seeing colors, hearing and feeling the wind against your sweaty skin, leaves blowing with it and gusting around you.

  You had no idea how you escaped the mad house, how long you’d even been walking or how you actually got there, but you found yourself in front of the cemetery, a flash of lightning illuminating the gate.

  To anyone else, a cemetery would have been the worst place to find themselves on a night like this, but you’d already been to hell so you trudged forward, feet taking you to him. Even in your drugged state, you were able to find your way to Eddie. Always would be.

  Your knees dug into the grass as you collapsed in front of his tombstone, fingers reaching forward to trace over MUN and 1986 before your body curled around the large stone, hugging yourself to it. Electric blue tears slipped down your cheeks, staining them with your mascara.

  “I wish I was with you.” You whispered, hating everything, hating this town, hating the people, hating Fred Benson, hating Carol, hating Laura Cunningham, hating how your mom wasn’t alive, hating how the one person you’d unknowingly sought for comfort was someone you’d never met before who was six feet under the ground. And you hated how you weren’t down there.

  You laid there, hugging his tombstone for hours under the thunder and lightning as the PCP slowly left your system.

  When you were able to stand up on your own, you gave the tombstone another kiss, rested your forehead against it and quietly thanked him for helping you find your way home before you left, following the path you’d made during all of your visits.

  The house was quiet when you got in, and Chrissy’s car hadn’t been parked in the driveway when you’d walked up so you figured she was still at the party. Sluggishly, you made your way up the stairs, falling into your shared bathroom. Your hand searched the wall, struggling to find the switch. Once your fingertips made contact with it, you flipped it and squinted as the room was flooded with the warm light. It was still too much for your eyes but you kept it on and walked towards the mirror

  The girl looking back at you was not the same one you’d last seen in it. This girl had blue smudged all around her eyes, faint trails of it over her cheeks and a rats nest for hair. Her eyes burned, not from the light, but from a fury within. 

  She was stuck in a life she didn’t want to live and couldn’t do anything about. As a large strike of lightning flashed from the window positioned at the back of the bathroom, towards the back of the house, you decided to put her out of her misery, picking up a blow dryer and smashing it against your reflection with a yell.

  You stood there, chest heaving as you stared at the broken reflection. Then you tossed the blow dryer onto the counter, and went to bed.

  Your dreams were much more pleasant than your reality, eyelids fluttering open to the ceiling of your old bedroom. A glance to your side confirmed your mother’s photo was at your bedside, next to your alarm clock on your old bedside table.

  “Well?” Her photo asked, shooting you that gorgeous smile of hers, “What are you waiting for? Go get him.”

  Your confusion was momentary, your mother raised her chin in a direction and you knew what would happen, you were giddy for it as you looked down to see yourself wrapped in the most beautiful wedding gown you’d ever seen.

  You rose from the bed into a sitting position, picking up the bouquet on the pillow next to you. Your dresser mirror was directly across from your bed and you took a moment to admire the beautiful girl staring back at you. Where you last remember seeing trails of tears were diamonds, glittering against your skin. Her eyes sparkled with a joy you’d never known. You bid her one last smile as you turned your head to the figure sitting on the edge of your bed, dark curls cascading down his neck, past broad shoulders with his back to you. 

  His right arm was out, palm up.

  He was waiting for you.

  You shifted until you were on the edge of your bed next to him, staring straight forward just as he was.

  Without looking, you knew exactly where his hand was, and you placed your left one over it, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. Slowly, the two of you leaned towards each other, until your head was on his shoulder and his cheek was pressed against the top of your head, his fingers curling around your hand to ground you. You sighed, all the tension and weight of the world leaving you.

  “Sissy. . .”

  “Sissy…”

  “SISSY!”

  You groaned as Chrissy shook you awake, eyes prying through all the mascara that had crusted over your eyes. It took a couple of blinks until you regained your clear vision, gaze locking on Chrissy leaning over you. Her face was clean of any makeup, skin glowing and hair wrapped up in rollers.

  She’d gotten home later than you and had still been able to look perfect. 

  What the hell?

  “You better get up, sissy. My mom’s losing it over the bathroom mirror.”

  You were confused for a second until you remembered smashing it with a blow dryer last night—or this morning. Well, it definitely would have broken at the sight of you now, anyways. 

  You frowned but made no move to get up so Chrissy tugged your blanket off of you, giggling when the both of you realized you had your hand in your underwear. Hastily, you yanked it out, and threw the blankets back over yourself.

  “It’s okay, Sissy. Everyone does it. It’s natural.”

  “Oh my god…”

  “So, what happened last night to bring this on?” She wiggled her eyebrows and you stared at her for a second. Part of you wanted to yell at her, berate her for letting you stumble around while high on a drug you’d never taken before, the other half knew in Chrissy’s World, it was all rainbows and sunshine—at least, it had been since she’d forced her mother to respect her boundaries. Chrissy didn’t expect the worst in anyone, didn't expect anyone to take advantage of you and certainly didn't expect you to wind up walking to the cemetery and then home on a bad trip. No, in Chrissy’s World, you’d probably spent the night flirting with someone, probably Steve, maybe fooled around in his car before he drove you home.

  You didn’t see it necessary to shatter her world so you groaned instead, the full force of your migraine hitting you now that you were out of sleep’s clutches, and covered your hands with your face.

  “Ooh, your knees…”

  You glanced down to see what she was staring at and sure enough, your knees were scratched up from kneeling at Eddie’s grave, but in Chrissy’s World…

  “I fell.” Was the only excuse you could come up with and Chrissy smirked.

  “Me, too.” Her eyelid dropped in a wink just as Laura yelled upstairs for you, so, begrudgingly, you wrapped yourself in your robe and headed downstairs to receive your punishment.

  Just as you suspected, Laura had attacked you with allegations—that were true for once, you had smashed the bathroom mirror—and your dad looked like he could care less.

  “You know,” She stated, fixing you with those unnaturally blue eyes of hers, “Your dad wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. See the good in you, but I knew. I’m an Intuitive Person, you know. An IP. They’ve got seminars for people like me.”

  Your mind flashed to How to Handle a Narcissist. 

  “Laura…” Your dad warned and Laura inhaled sharply, displeased that your dad was sticking up for you. For once. 

  “Did you know there was a tornado last night? It hailed. Wind blew the fence over. The yard is covered in debris, and now I have to focus on repairing the bathroom, too. I don’t think that’s fair.” She huffed and Chrissy spoke up from her place on the couch.

  “It was a tornado watch, mom. Not a real tornado.”

  “Actually, Chris, the weather was downright crazy last night. I mean, it was really something, I saw green lightning. Big balls of it in the sky.”

  You and Chrissy shared secret smiles at hearing your dad talk about big balls.

  “Love muffin, could you swap out being a weatherman for being a father, right now?” Laura gritted out through her chemically whitened teeth.

  “It’s a Meteorologist,” You mumbled and her head snapped over to glare at you before she was speaking to your father again.

  “Honey, your daughter is a vandal. She’s got a taste for vandalism, and she is deliberately vandalizing and destroying property. First, it was my collection of Precious Moments figurines─”

  “That was an accident, you didn’t wrap them in bubble wrap and I dropped the box when I tripped over the front steps.”

  “Mother,” Chrissy chided, hands crossing over her robe. “Be. Nice.”

  “I am being nice,” Laura hissed, glare never leaving you, “But I refuse to coddle her. She’s headed straight to the nut house with this behavior.”

  You frowned, wiping away some of the dried mascara under your eye, “Can you say that if you’re a Psych Nurse?”

  Laura had the decency to look embarrassed before whacking your father’s arm. He sighed, putting his newspaper down, “Sweetheart─”

  You clocked the twitch in Laura’s eyelid at the affectionate name your father used to refer to you.

  “─You’re gonna clean your bathroom, alright? Sweep up all that glass.”

  ”And?” Laura pushed, still staring at you.

  “And…..um. Pay for the mirror, I guess.” Laura turned her nose up, hurmphing. 

  “That’s fine, can I get ready for work now?”

  Your dad nodded and Laura looked like she wanted to protest but you turned your back to her and made your way upstairs, hesitating at the top when your fathered turned the volume of the TV back on and you heard the news reporter reporting from the cemetery, talking about a grave, under a tree, that had been struck by lightning. 

  You wondered if it had been Eddie’s. There’s no way you’d be able to check today, you’d get home from work too late, so you’d have to check tomorrow.

  You tried to stay busy during your shift at the local tailor’s. You didn’t really have a passion for it, but you were relatively good with a needle and thread. With the magnifier headlamp, you were practically unstoppable, altering coats, dresses, blouses, shirts, all with minimal finger injuries—though luminol on some of these clothing items would no doubt reveal traces of your blood.

  But hey—you now knew what it meant to work so hard you put your blood into something and you always had band-aids on you, in case anyone needed one.

  You were so invested in your work, you hadn’t heard the bell above the door chime when it was pushed open, and didn’t notice Steve leaning against the counter, watching you work until he cleared his throat.

  You jumped, head swinging around to see your crush smiling at you and you raised the magnifying glass portion of the head lamp off your face, feeling embarrassed that he’d seen you with the headgear on in the first place.

  “Hey! I didn’t know you worked here.”

  You let out some nervous laughter, mind racing for ways to make this seem cool but you came up short. “Yeah, I—employed.”

  “I can see that,” He chuckled, amused by your lack of verbal sparring.

  You didn’t know what to say after that so you stared, fingers twisting and pulling the thread you’d been working with, desperate for him to say something or get out.

  “Oh! Uh, I heard you guys also get rid of stains? I’ve got this one on my pan─”

  “THAT WE DO!” 

  You sighed, eyes slipping shut as your moron of a boss came bursting out of the office.

  “What can we do for you, Harrington?” Murray asked, leaning against the counter, causing Steve to lean back, smile now less than thrilled.

  “Murray…I forgot you worked here.” Steve said it in a voice that made you think he would have avoided the shop had he known who it was that was currently in charge of running it.

  “Yup, got me this sweet little gig. And no radios.” He gestured around to the shop, void of any technology save for the cash register—and he made sure it was never him operating it, “Would like to see the government try to control me now.”

  “Right, I just came here to drop off my pants, spilled something on—well, it doesn’t really matter, I just spilled something on them.” Steve placed the folded pair of pants on the counter and Murray immediately unfolded them, searching through the fabric until he found the stain by his crotch. To both your horror and Steve’s, he lifted the strained fabric to his nose, sniffing deep.

  “Mm. White wine?”

  It took Steve a moment to find his voice and close his jaw, “Crush. The soda.”

  “Same thing. We’ll get this right out, my man.”

  You and Steve shared one more look of disbelief before he slowly backed away, the bell above the door sounding as he left.

  “He’s a nice guy,” Murray commented and you shrugged your shoulders, wanting this conversation to be over, “I’m surprised you know him, little loser.”

  You shot him a glare.

  “Oh, c’mon, lets not pretend you’ve got an active social life—if I call you in for a shift, you’re available. Nothing wrong with being a loser. I was one throughout high school and look at me now. Who got the last laugh?”

  You were positive the look of pain on your face should have told Murray that anyone other than him got the last laugh. He was a forty something year old, afraid of technology, convinced the government was watching him, who tried to befriend teenagers. 

  You’d have to kill yourself if you were anything like him.

  When he disappeared back into the office, because of course you’d have to get rid of that stain for Steve, you snatched the pair of pants off the counter. Glancing around to make sure there weren’t any eyes on you, you pressed them to the side of your face, imagining yourself hugging Steve instead of the pants. They smelled like him. It was bliss.

  Then your eyes snapped open.

  Oh, god. You were a loser.

  After your shift, you’d gone straight home. Normally, you’d stop to grab a bite or something, you still had to pay for the mirror you broke so fast food was off the table for a couple of weeks, but on your dining room table when you walked into the house.

  A pizza box. Your stomach growled as you imagined the slice of cheese waiting for you.

  “Is there any left?” You asked, already making a beeline for it.

  “Should be a slice left,” Your dad mused and as you tossed the top of it open, all you wanted to do was maybe beat him with it.

  There, on the parchment liner of the pizza box, was the skinniest and tiniest slice of pizza to ever be cut. Not even the width of two of your fingers.

  “Want me to order another one, sweetheart?” Your dad asked and Laura immediately inserted herself into the conversation. 

  “She can eat it, love muffin. Besides, we’ve got vegetables in the fridge if she’s still not full.”

  “I said we should have ordered two, but my mom had a coupon she wanted to use.” Chrissy didn’t sound impressed.

  “Yes, we got a free soda!”

  Chrissy ignored her mom, “Sissy, we’re going to the movies! You could get something there, they sell pizza and nachos, right?”

  You knew she was trying to find a solution for you, but your bullshit meter for the day had already been capped. You didn’t want movie theater pizza or concessions, you wanted a  reasonable slice of this pizza, not some scrap your step-mother had saved you. It was obvious she was implying that she, your dad and Chrissy were the perfect sized family and you were simply an afterthought. Unwelcome.

  “Yeah, I’m passing on the movie.”

  Before you could stomp upstairs, Chrissy caught your hand.

  “Sissy, please? We’ve got to bond as a family, it’s crucial. If it takes two, how can I do it as one?” She pulled you into her side.

  “Really, Chrissy, I’m super tired.”

  “You’re tired?” Laura asked, incredulous. Here we go again.

  “All you do is work with a sewing machine for hours like some old spinster, I can hardly imagine that being tiring, but my Chrissy just got back from a five hour long cheer practice. They were throwing her around like raggedy ann and she stuck every landing.” 

  “Mom, stop.” Chrissy blushed, but you could see how proud she was of herself, “I’m sure Sissy pokes herself with those needles all the time, and it hurts, I’ve been prodded myself during all of my custom fittings.”

  “I have finger calluses so I don’t even bleed anymore,” You begrudgingly admitted, “I can take it.”

  “I bet you can.”

  After they’d left for the movies, you’d gone upstairs, showered, put on your comfiest pajamas and fuzziest slippers, you grabbed a bowl of chips and set yourself up in front of the TV to watch Dawn of the Dead. You had to give props to all these zombie actors, you couldn’t imagine having to act out being one of the walking undead, imagined it felt pretty stupid but the paycheck and experience must have been cool.

  You popped another chip into your mouth just as someone knocked on the front door. As you placed the bowl of chips on the table to get up, the knocking got louder, more aggressive and you hesitated, fear beginning to swell up inside of you.

  Maybe if you ignored it, they’d go away.

  You turned your attention back to the tv, picking up the remote to lower the volume and hopefully hide your presence in the house. 

  Then, much to your horror, you heard the distinct sound of a pained, gurgling groan. It sounded very similar to the ones you’d heard the zombies making on your tv, but this one was louder. 

  And it was coming from outside your front door.

  You crouched, duckwalking to the foyer where one of the house phones was placed. You’d just picked it up from the receiver when a shadow from the living room window caught your eye. You barely had time to turn your head when something came crashing through it, breaking the glass and yanking the curtains from the rod.

  Shocked, the phone slipped from your hands, banging against the hardwood floor of the foyer and you let out a scream at the same time as the person on your TV, running away from the figure invading your home. 

  You made it to the dinning room. Literally scrambling across the table to put an obstacle between you and the stranger—no, creature. Tall, caked in mud, leaves and stems, it resembled the Swamp Thing. It grunted, groans low and reverberating off the walls.

  “Uuuhhhnng…”

  This couldn’t be happening to you, you couldn’t die like this!!!! It was supposed to be by your hand or nothing!

  ”STAY AWAY FROM ME!” You shrieked, picking up the decorative plates from the table to throw at the creature. You nailed it a couple of times, watching it stumble as the fine china shattered against it. When you ran out of plates, you bolted from the dinning room, screaming as you scrambled up the stairs, and lost one of your slippers in the process but to hell with it! You had to get out of there. Hopefully, one of your neighbors heard your shrieks of terror and called the police.

  You peaked over the railing at the top of the stairs, to see the creature analyzing your slipper. While it was distracted, you locked yourself in your room and made your way to your bedroom window, pulling it open.

  “Okay, okay. I can do this, no big deal. Stunt actors do it all the time.” You climbed outside of your window, body nearly convulsing as you almost slipped down the roof, “Nonononono.”

  You tried to grip onto a couple of shingles but they gave away, slipping right off the house to shatter against the concrete walkway and you realized Laura had no fucking idea what she was doing when it came to house repairs, the dumb bitch had just laid the shingles out without securing them.

  “OH MY GOD-I’M GONNA DIE! HELP!”

  Your body slipped further down the roofing, until you were forced to grab the gutter, gagging when your fingers squelched against whatever was in it. You dangled a good six feet off the ground, and while it wasn’t exactly a ten story fall, with your luck, you’d land on your head and break your neck.

  Whimpering, you tried to pull yourself back up the roof, but it was no use. You had nothing stable to grab onto as you yanked yet another shingle clean off. You glared at it and muttered a goddammit before tossing it somewhere behind you as you went back to hanging on for dear life. 

  “Oh, no.” You mumbled, terrified as your fingertips began to lose their grip, wet with the mystery sludge from the gutter. “No, NO!” 

  You lost your grip, plummeting down but you didn’t meet the concrete. No, the Creature broke your fall and you were now face to face with it. The pressure of you landing on it, made it spit up into your face, green sludge, and you gasped before breaking out into screams again.

  Pushing yourself up and off of it as you ran around your front yard, nearly blind. You were not opening your eyes to let that bacteria infested swamp slime, water, whatever the hell it was, into your eyeballs. 

  You could hear the Creature stomping around behind you as you bobbed and weaved, could feel his presence and you could not believe you were actually gonna die fighting off a swamp monster in your front yard while blinded—in clear and plain view for your neighbors to see, by the way, and unbeknownst to you, an elderly couple was watching you, not even a little concerned about your well being or the creature chasing you around.

  “Stop it!”

  “Leave me alone!”

  “Go away, I’m just a girl!”

  The timed sprinklers went off and you were soon assaulted with them as well. With just about all your senses done for, and the sprinklers washing the guck away from your face, you made a run for the house, slamming your back against the door and locking it behind you.

  Your chest was heaving, wet body pumping with adrenaline as the back of your head thumped against the door. You weren’t done yet. That creature was still out there!!!

  You dove for the phone on the ground, hanging by its springy cord and shouted out hopefully loud enough for it to hear, “I’m calling the police, so if you don’t want your ass riddled with bullets, I’d suggest you leave! They shoot before asking questions!”

  You frantically dialed 911 but there was no ringing, instead, you could still hear buttons being pressed on the other line.

  Bleak, and accepting your fate, you put the phone back on the receiver, and turned towards the living room, where the other phone was located. 

  On the chair, next to where the table the phone normaly rested on, was The Creature. 

  You grabbed one of the lamps, ready to use it as a weapon but it didn’t attack you, just turned the phone receiver this way and that, as if admiring it. 

  Despite your fear, you took a reluctant step forward, casting the creature in the glow of the lamp you clutched and for like the billionth time that night, you gasped.

  The sprinklers had washed some of the filth off of it, too. Before, its head had been caked in a mud helmet, but now, you could actually see it’s head. It had long, disgustingly dirty curls, and wore a leather jacket, jeans and tennis shoes, all covered in grime.

  When it craned its head up to look at you, you readied the lamp, poised to throw it at it—him. It was a guy. Big brown eyes, stared up at you and he made no move to attack.

  Slowly, you lowered the lamp, and crouched down a few feet away.

  His attention returned to the phone—shoe shaped—in his hands and shakily, with stiff limbs, he put it back on the receiver.

  “It’s…It’s cool looking, right? The-The shoe phone.” 

  He glanced over at you and then the phone again as you mumbled out an explanation, 

“Our neighbor in our old town cheated on his wife and she threw all his stuff out the window at him and my dad snatched the phone.”

  “Merrrruhhhhh.” He moaned out, picking up your slipper and offering it to you. When you just stared, he dropped it and you moved the lamp to the side, crossing your legs.

  “I’ve never seen a zombie before.” You marveled, then squinted, “You are a zombie, right? An undead?”

  It took him an entire minute to choppily raise his shoulders, you realized he was shrugging. Or trying to. Every movement he made was choppy. Reminded you of how stop motion was made, except his scenes weren’t being played fast enough to have fluid movements.

  He tried to get up and promptly slipped, accidentally elbowing the mini sound system at his side. It turned on, Sinead O’Connor’s Drink Before the War playing. You’d been the last to use it.

  You watched as his head tilted in interest as Sinead began to croon out lyrics.

  “Do you like music? This is Sinead O’Connor. She makes music that heals souls.”

  He raised his wrist to his chest and you inhaled sharply as you realized he was missing the hand on it.

  “Uhm, no—I don’t think she healed your soul. I meant like, figuratively. Her music makes people feel.” You placed your hands on your own chest, trying to convey your meaning, “She’s one of my favorites.”

  A surprisingly comforting silence fell over the two of you—though he sometimes made his quiet dead guy gross sounds—as you stared at him, taking in the green-gray tint of his skin beneath the dirt all over him, cheeks sunken in. You had a feeling if you touched his skin, it’d be hard, maybe waxy and it was a bit unnerving how human his eyes were, but duh! Of course they were, he was a human. Just. A dead one. At least he wasn’t a skeleton.

  Man, Hollywood wasn’t too far off with their interpretation.

  “C’mon,” You stood up, eyes taking in the state of your home and all the dirt the two of you had dragged in, “I gotta hide you, new dead friend.”

[neonvqmpire]

we need to talk about how close aziraphale actually was to saying no to the metatron after the kiss and why:

he's extremely conflicted and keeps looking out of the window to crowley in the car.

he previously said "nothing last forever" when crowley told him that he cant leave the bookshop (crowley also meant "you cant leave me"; the bookshop is a metaphor for their lives on earth for him) and he states exactly this as the first objection here. obviously the metatron shuts it down by appointing muriel as the next owner of the shop.

now he's stuck between wanting to be with the being he loves & who he now knows loves him back and his deep inner need/duty to do good. crowley's confession and kiss clearly made him question his decision and change his mind because here is when he actually decides for both.

you can see how he does not want to join heaven alone. he keeps looking out the window when asked if he needs anything to take with him.

he desperately needs crowley there but he can not have him so he lies and says no.

i this moment he tries to say no to heaven one last time. he starts saying "i think i-" and then looks out to crowley one last time. he's really considering crowleys offer here. i think the decision that he makes instead is actually FOR crowley as well.

he decides to join heaven not as he was previously convinced by the metatron to do good and rule together with crowley (which he did not want to do) but instead to go and keep a close eye on heaven FOR crowley.

aziraphale isnt stupid, he remembers what crowley said about heaven being toxic.

i think the confession and kiss makes him question heaven. crowley, who fell for asking questions made aziraphale question heaven too. something that he was always too scared to do. he has started to rebel in his head. he realised that something has to be up with heaven/the metatron bc they offered him the position. he decided to go but with a completely different purpose than before. 

he puts on a smile and it seems fake because it is. he wants to appear like he hasn't just fundamentally changed his position and decided to go against the one force who he was always afraid of yet dependent on. 

this is sth extremely relatable to someone who is queer and autistic and was raised by very conservative family members. even the thought of supporting queer people felt rebellious, terrifying but also extremely exiting and powerful because i knew it was the right thing to believe. 

aziraphale was being so brave here. he saw a glimpse of the life he wants and can have and choose to join heaven anyway to fight for this life. he is convinced it will not be possible for them to be together if heaven is still kicking about and making him feel powerless and scared. he wants to secure their future by changing or possibly even destroying the system from the inside out. 

unfortunately he didn't have time to tell crowley about his change of intention and i think it really breaks his heart. crowley would probably not understand it anyway. they still have a lot to work through and learn but ultimately they will find each other again. they always do.

i am so so interested to see where and how they meet again in s3, if we get it. after everything i just really want them to be happy and to spend their eternity together. they deserve it after all they went through.

[binary5tar]

uuuggghhh I think I need to get off twitter. I always do honestly. But it's making me question and stress over my selfies with ox. I don't want them to hate me or group me with problematic fans :/

[bunnliix]

The Invisible Strings that Bind Us - Chapter One

Hiii! I hope this is an enjoyable start to the story.

And to anyone that's reading this and wondering if it feels familiar, I was given permission to adapt another fanfic that was discontinued, to give it a new life! I didn't change much here in the first chapter, but the story from here on out is much different than the original first chapter. So basically, I'm not stealing anything!

word count: 3.2k

masterlist

warnings: panic attack, anxiety, I think that's it?

Italicized - Korean

Y/n's POV

I sighed and laid back in bed after my class finished for the day, waiting to see how long this strike would go on. It felt weird to not have school other than the one online class, but for now it's a nice break from the long days at school. I sat up and grabbed my headphones from the foot of my bed, hoping that listening to my music for a bit will help speed the day along. While listening to said music, I started reading some fanfiction, having felt an abnormal want to read k-pop fanfics. This wasn't totally out of place, however it was odd for me to be unable to read one genre of fanfic for this long, as I had been focused on this for a couple weeks already. This week's fixation was Stray Kids, and particularly OT8 fanfic. I had read fanfic for the group before, however it was primarily members by themselves and not as one large group. Which is why this fixation is classified as odd in my mind. 

I passed the day by while reading fanfiction, and it was late at night by this time. I may have fixated on reading a bit too much as I had forgotten to eat food, though it could have been caused by the increasingly odd and realistic visions I had been daydreaming throughout the day. These daydreams had been occuring more often lately, and while some seemed to be of the same people sometimes, it was not always the case. These daydreams also seemed to carry into my dreams, which as I remembered them, seemed to catch my attention as it was very unusual. I had been having odder sensations, in addition to the strange dreams and daydreams. When I searched on the internet, everything pointed to the soulmate bond trying to pull me to my soulmate, however very little of what was happening to me, was really any help to point me in the direction of my soulmate or soulmates? All I could tell was that there were a lot of men in these visions, and that they may speak Korean, or at least most of them do.

Shrugging off that train of thought, I moved to get out of my regular clothes and into my sleep/comfy clothes, and hopped into bed afterwards, quickly forgetting about the daydreams and focusing on a new fanfiction I had found. A while after settling into bed, I found myself getting dizzy out of the blue, and decided that it was better to stay in bed and close my eyes, hoping that it would pass soon. Unfortunately, the universe did not agree with my hopes and soon I felt the bed disappear from under me, and the feeling of falling replaced it. Panicking, as one would in this situation, I open my eyes to try and find a way out of this situation, only to find myself falling into the lap of someone. I look up and recognize the face of the person whose lap I'm in. Of course, being the panicky person I am, my brain decided the best course of action is not to say "hi" or anything else, but to scramble off of his lap and run away from my soulmate. I somehow managed to open the door and run out of it, running around until I found a bathroom, running inside and hiding inside one of the stalls. I patted myself down, trying to find my phone and freaking out when it's nowhere to be found. 'Fuck!' I thought as I sit here in a stall in a strange place and I have nothing to help me get out of here and I'm not even wearing suitable clothes either. I started hyperventilating and found myself spiraling into a panic attack, unable to stop myself. Eventually, due to my panic attack and the lack of food I ate, I passed out in the bathroom stall.

Chan's POV

Today so far has been normal, nothing terribly unusual has occurred yet. Nothing is that unusual when it comes to my members, the chaos is eternal, but very amusing. I'm working on very little sleep, however I was able to finish up writing a couple songs for our next album, so that was a plus. Currently, the group and I are waiting on our choreographers to show up so that we can practice the dance for the title tracks of our upcoming comeback.

"Man, the dreams I've had lately have been kinda weird. There's been one girl I've seen more than a couple times, and I've seen her work on what look like essays as well. I wonder if this is due to the soulmate bond, but maybe it's just my overactive imagination." I hear Han say, and look up at him. That is fairly strange, and he isn't the first to have voiced about strange dreams or other occurrences they've had. However, I have no time to think about this as out of thin air, someone lands in my lap who is clearly none of my members. I look down to see a girl land in my lap, who quickly makes eye contact with me. I see her panic clear on her face, and I have no time to react before she scrambles away from me and runs out of the room. 

Han quickly leaps up as does everyone else who wasn't already standing. He shouts out, "That's the girl I saw in my dreams! How is she here?!" and before anyone can stop him, runs off after her. I'm in shock and look up to see Han run off, standing up quickly and calling after him. I look to the rest of the boys to try and figure out what to do now, as there was no way for that girl to have gotten in, with the exception of her being our soulmate, which I suspect to be true based on how I felt looking down at her. I look down at my lap only to find a phone that I know belongs to none of us, and figure out that it's her phone. I hold onto it and turn it over to find a Nayeon photocard inside the case on the back. "So it seems our soulmate likes k-pop." I remark and show the others the back of her phone case. "Now we just have to find her and Han, where they both went." We all leave the practice room and head off to try and find the two of them.

Han's POV

I watch the girl from my dreams run out the door and my body reacts, jumping up, yelling out that I knew her, before I run out the door behind her. I see her round the corner, but lose her once I turn the corner. I look around to see if I could find her, but the only rooms around here are a couple closets and the bathrooms. I open the closet door to find nothing but cleaning materials, and then search the men's bathroom in case she has run in here. The only option left is the women's bathroom, however it would not be good if I’m caught in there by someone. I lean back against the wall and try to think of what I was going to do next. 'I could call out to her and see if she hears me. But I don't know her name so what would I even call out.' 

I took a chance and looked around to see if there was anyone around. Seeing no one, I headed into the bathroom quickly, checking that there was no one in there. I saw that all but one of the stalls were open, so I went to check that stall. I knocked on it and get no answer. I took a risk and looked under it to find the girl, and wondered if she's so freaked out that she's not answering me. I found a way to unlock the stall and open it to find that she's passed out. I started panicking slightly because I don't know what to do in this situation. Do I call Chan? Do I try to carry her back to the practice room or our studio? Well the first thing I should do is make sure she's okay and alive. I knelt down in the stall and checked her pulse, finding that it's strong and well, if a little fast still. 'She must have had a panic attack or something to have a heart rate this fast after passing out who knows how long ago.' I figure that the best thing to do is to bring her to the studio so that when she wakes up, she won't be too shocked at least. I carefully reach under her knees and back and lift her up slowly, aware about the lack of space around us. Somehow, I managed to get the both of us to the studio without running into anyone. I lay her down on the couch, and sit down on the floor next to the couch, waiting till she wakes up. I texted the boys that I had found her and that both of us were safe. I also informed them that maybe it was better if all of us weren't here when she woke up, in order not to frighten her. If I was in her shoes, I would have reacted similarly, I'm sure.

Chan's POV

I felt my phone vibrate and saw that Han had messaged our group chat. I sighed in relief that he had found our soulmate, but frowned as I read that she had passed out in the bathroom, and that Han wants only a few of us to come see her once she's awake, fearing that she may freak out once again. I understood his idea, as it was logical, and quickly thought of who was best for her to meet first. Probably Minho, Felix and myself, as Felix and myself can speak English, and Minho will want to make sure that she's okay. I sent these thoughts to the group chat, and while the others protested, they ultimately understood where I am coming from. I started heading towards our studio and met up with the others outside, and we all entered the studio quietly and waited for her to wake up. 

Y/n's POV

I slowly started to wake up, feeling a soft surface underneath my body. I opened my eyes to find an unfamiliar ceiling above me, and my memories from before came back to me and I shot up into a sitting position. I heard noise from around me and looked around to find that my memories had in fact, not been a dream. There were half of the members of Stray Kids sitting or standing in various places around the room. "Umm, hi." I said quietly, still not sure what the hell I'm supposed to do in this situation. I looked down at my lap, feeling as if looking away would make it easier on myself. I saw and heard movement next to me and before I could look to see who it was, I heard someone speak to me.

"Hey, are you alright? There's no need to be shy, honestly." I looked up to see that it was Chan who had moved next to me, kneeling on the floor so that he was able to look at me. 'Should I say I'm fine when I'm really not? I don't want to worry them, that wouldn't be fair to them, and I'm sure they're busy enough already without me popping into their lives randomly.' I keep going down that rabbit hole until I feel a hand on my leg, bringing me back to the present. What I hadn't seen while spiraling was the four members trading concerned looks between them. I then looked to see that it's Chan's hand and that he looks more worried. I quickly opened my mouth to respond to his original question. "I'm fine, I'm totally fine. No need to worry about me." I try and laugh his concern off, I don't need to be a bother to them. 

I hadn't realized that I had said that last thought out loud until I felt someone sit behind me and wrap their arms around me as they talked. "You could never be a bother to us, you're our soulmate and we want to be there for you, even though we may have just met. We want you to lean on us for help when you need it, just as we will lean on you from time to time, okay?" I teared up unknowingly as he said that, looking up to see that it's Lee Know who was embracing me. He reaches a hand up to wipe the tears from my eyes, which I only noticed had fallen at that moment. I nodded silently, not really knowing what to say at that moment. I tensed up slightly in his arms, feeling conflicted as I was both comfortable and uncomfortable in his hold. 

One of the boys grabbed my hands again, before I looked up I knew it was Chan. He smiled at me, though he still looked slightly concerned. "Are we making you uncomfortable? Please tell us if we are and we'll back off a bit." I rushed to reply, in doing so also jumbling my words a bit, "No, no, you're all fine, um it's fine you're not makin' me unfomfy, fuck, I mean uncomfy. I just don't know what to do in this sorta situation and so I don't know how to act and you're all cute and y'know, idols and just I- aaaaaaaaaaaaaa" I ended up cutting myself off to spare myself the embarrassment and look back down at my hands that Chan is still holding. While I'm looking down, I heard laughter coming from Felix and Han and I'm not sure if they're laughing at me or not, and I scrunch my shoulders up to my ears, as if it would somehow protect me from them. 

"Hey, knock it off guys! You're making them uncomfortable, can't you see that? " I heard Lee Know speak up from behind me in Korean, talking to the two younger ones. I'm not sure what he said, but it stopped the boy's laughter and soon enough they came over, apologizing for laughing and Han explaining why they laughed in the first place. "I'm sorry, we weren't laughing at you, well not exactly. You sound like me when I get anxious and flustered so Lixie and I were laughing about the fact that I wouldn't be the only one who rambles and gets clumsy with their words. We're sorry that we hurt you with our actions, and hope that you are able to forgive us."

I looked up at Han and Felix, who clearly looked apologetic, and nodded. "Now that you've explained why you both laughed, I understand that you were not laughing at my inability to talk, but that I am not the only one that gets like that. So you both are forgiven, it's okay." I smiled at them, hoping that my forgiveness was clearly translated. They both smiled back at me, and I can see Chan smiling from the corner of my eye, seemingly happy that the situation was resolved. He then spoke up, "So maybe we should do introductions, though it seems you already know who we are."  I blush, nodding my head. "I do know who you all are, and who's missing from this group right now as well. Though shouldn't they be here so that I don't have to introduce myself twice? It would be easier to only do it once." 

Chan's POV

I laughed quickly and nodded, "Yes, that would be much easier. Han, would you text them to come here quickly? " I looked over to see that Han was already doing that. " No worries hyung, already done. They're all on their way ." Not even a minute or so later, the other half of SKZ barged through the door, just as I had hoped they wouldn't. " Guys, really? There's no need to barge in like that. " They all bowed apologetically to both myself and our last soulmate. She giggled at their actions and smiled and waved at them. I looked over at her to see if she was ready to introduce herself and after she looked at me and nodded, I smiled.

Y/N's POV

After the chaos that was the other half of Stray Kids barging into the room, I was ready to introduce myself to my soulmates for the first and only time. I turned to face everyone, "안녕하세요" I smiled and bowed to them as much as I am able to, as I introduced myself. I heard various reactions to my words, including a couple that I can make out as them calling me cute. 

I heard Chan say, "Well, our last soulmate, it's a pleasure to meet you." I looked up and smiled at him brightly as I responded, "I'm very glad to have met all of you as well, my eight soulmates. Though I already technically know all of you by being a Stay, would it be a bother to ask you to introduce yourselves as if I had never met any of you before?" 

3rd Person POV

Felix smiled as their soulmate asked them to introduce themselves to her, as if they were strangers. 'She's adorable, and I can already see how she fits in with us, though I know I'll have to wait and see the full extent of how well we'll get along,' he thought.

 He then decided to introduce himself first, "Hello, I'm Felix, it's nice to meet you!" the younger Aussie waved and smiled at her.

 "It's Seungmin in the building, it's amazing to meet our final soulmate." She giggled at Seungmin's introduction, which in turn makes the man happy that he got a laugh out of her. 

"Hi noona, I'm Jeongin." and eventually the introductions ended with Chan, "Hello, I'm Chris or Chan." 

The young girl smiled at the eight of them, happy to meet them all finally. The boys, as they were bound to do, started getting distracted and eventually Chan came to sit beside her. She looked over at him, still smiling as she almost always is, and asked him if he wanted anything. The Aussie shook his head, just wanting to be near her, telling her as much. They were both happy to watch the rest of the men fool around and have fun with each other. Soon enough, she was feeling tired again, and started to lean into Chris's side, laying her head on his shoulder. Chris smiled at her actions and moved to pull her closer into his side, enjoying the close contact. 

He felt her fall asleep, hearing her breaths even out. In order to make her feel a bit comfier while asleep, he moved her body to lay down across the couch again, with Minho's help. Her head rested in his lap, and he quietly talked with the boys as they let her sleep more.

Next

[chalkrevelations]

There are things I say to my partner in the privacy of our living room when I’m blowing off steam that I would never in my life say to friends or other family members or bosses or work colleagues or fellow community members. I do this not because I’m two-faced but because I’m human. I get frustrated, but I’m also a grownup who realizes that my frustrations and fears in that moment are not the entirety of who I am. I have a right to express them, but I do not have the right to inflict them on the people who would be hurt by them. That’s why those conversations happen in private, in a safe space of trust, where my relationship allows me to show my partner parts of me that aren’t perfect and allows my partner to show me that I don’t have to be perfect in order to deserve to be cared about. I get support through my petty moments until I can be a better person.

This latest attack on Build is a horrifying violation of privacy and trust that leaves me feeling literally nauseated. I once again reiterate that I don’t trust third-hand amateur fan translation to be accurate and contextual, particularly given the provenance of the material, but Build himself is apparently distressed enough by at least some part of the material to make a public apology. So, that being out there, I will say: This was a private matter that should have stayed private, out of respect for everyone involved. Whatever was actually said is nobody’s business except Build’s and now, unfortunately, any named individuals who this was inflicted on and who may have been hurt by it. Which, rest assured, was the intention - to hurt not only Build with this, but also, particularly, Apo and Bible, both of whom Poi has shown her dislike of and ill-will toward in the past. I suspect some people also don’t know how abuse works, and it shows, given that what was purportedly said is a reflection of Poi’s own views back at her.

Whatever the context, I see that purity cancel culture still insists on freezing people in amber in their worst moments - without recognition of any capacity for change or growth - as long as it provides ammunition for a smug, gleeful Particicution. You’re stuck on some unkind things Build supposedly said more than a year ago? Let me tell you what I’ll remember for the rest of my life: The small, broken sound of Build’s voice just a few months ago as he tried to protect Bible and Bible’s career from a sociopath, in a telephone call that he felt he needed to secretly record as evidence of how he was being manipulated and abused.

Meanwhile, I see that swathes of KP fandom continue to be complicit in Poi’s campaign of public and dehumanizing abuse of him, which now includes not only borderline revenge porn, but separating him from his friends and isolating him. This is what abuse looks like. It’s happening in front of your eyes. Do you even care? Do you actually, legitimately care about abuse, or is it just a tool for you to use to win petty shipwars and make yourself feel righteous? Because here it is. Take a good look. This is a textbook play. And if you’re participating in reposting those screenshots of private conversations and mocking Build’s relationships and spreading vituperative language about him and acting like he deserves to have his life and career destroyed, you’re enabling an abuser. You are aiding and abetting her, as the very scenario she threatened him with - in order to maintain access to him, to keep him under control and compliant - continues to get spun out. YOU are a bully and a hypocrite and an abuser, helping to prove that the most dangerous time for an abuse victim is when they leave.

But I guess some victims do have to be perfect, huh?

.

(ETA: 7/18/23, 1520 - This post is being linked on Twitter by @cherryluminary with my permission. I'm not over there, but I increasingly feel like it's important to name what's happened, and continues to happen, to Build online as what it is - abuse. Similar to to my last post that breached containment, I'm going to ask people to remember that the behavior of Build's fans reflects on him - however fair that may or may not be - and should remain above reproach. I understand being angry - I'm angry, and at more people than I've discussed publicly, at this point. But if I find out you've been descending anywhere near the level of the ugly little sociopath in my inbox who openly admitted they want Build to kill himself, I'll block you.)

[arsonkoobi]

taekooker to jikooker: my personal experience.

this is merely how i felt and all the things i saw while being a hardcore taekooker for almost a year and a half. if you get offended, im sorry but the unfollow and block button is right there, i dont mind. i love taekook themselves, but i can no longer look at them in the way i used to. now they genuinely look like best friends to me. people change, and their perceptions and views on different aspects of life change. thats what happened to me.

I first joined this fandom 5 years ago in mid january 2018 through my friends. taehyung was my first ever bias, so most of the bts related yt recs i had were mostly of taehyung and ot7, and occasional ship videos among which taekook was the most prominent. me being a curious lil unsuspecting lamb, clicked on one, it also helped that my friends were taekookers as well so i dived pretty deep into the rabbit hole of taekook. im gonna be writing my thoughts and experiences on shipping taekook at different times of the year. i dont remember every single detail clearly (like this was 5 years ago) so forgive me if i sound vague at times plus this will only be a summary. without further ado, lets start, shall we?

february-march, 2018

by this time, i already watched quite a few taekook analysis videos, i also came across a few tkk_lives' videos(i think i came across her vids like much later but i just included it here) as well as other deluded channels. i fell even deeper into the rabbit hole. i thought taekook were the epitome of boyfriends silly in love, i felt like they had the best chemistry and that they were the ones whose ship actually made sense. i feel so embarrassed to admit this but one of my rather major reasons for shipping them was how good they looked tgthr🤦‍♀️(im a changed person now i promise). now i realise many tkk analysis channels tend to heavily edit things to make it look like theres something going on, overanalysing things to no end, it made me see them as if they were closer than they actually are, and as if theyre hiding something, but it was really just heavy and clever editing that forces your mind to get convinced. it was quite literally manipulative. plus back then, i was rather immature and hadnt even been in a rltnshp yet, so i blindly believed whatever they said. i believed every narrative and every theory they put out even if i knew lots of them didnt even make sense. they constantly also put out the jealous jungkook/taehyung whenever the other breathes next to another member..as i now realise, thats one of the biggest toxic traits a person can have. they were always pushing tkk as a toxic relationship without even knowing it(or just ignoring it). i also do not like jikook analysis vids where they are portrayed as the same territorial mfs who cant stand the other interacting with anyone else but himself. bc thats literally pushing their relationship as a toxic one and making them look toxic, and i would rather not do that.

march/april-september, 2018

i only watched taekook vids and funny bts moments for a long while as a baby army. i didnt watch official content very much, i ddint even know how to watch official content..i didnt know bangtantv existed yet💀 this tkk analysis watching continued for around 4 or so months after i became an army before i took an unintentional break from them(analysis vids) and i went on twitter. twitter, was so much worse(as i now realise). i didnt have an account at that time and learnt to browse on twt without one(it doesnt really let you do that anymore). at first, i found nothing weird or unusual and i enjoyed lurking on twitter, but slowly i started to see the ugly side of the community. i found multiple accounts directly or indirectly hating on jimin. i was weirded out. very weirded out. i was quite conflicted but..i only thought of it as jimin haters who were coincidentally tkkrs, maybe i refused to see tkk shippers in a bad light? probably, unfortunately i cant remember much and as i said, i was immature.

october-december, 2018

i stumbled across gcf in tokyo somewhere in october, i think it was in a fanwar on twitter and a jkkr said "at least we have this" or sumn along that line and put a link to gcft . idek how i didnt see it earlier. immediately after watching it, i felt..weird, conflicted, insecure. insecure about my ship. it seemed so romantic to me even then. but ofc i didnt let myself give up immediately, and i searched interviews + info about it, i found tkkrs saying vminkook were supposed to go tgthr and jikook only went bc they had a few days off and tae didnt. that gave me a lil bit of security and i held onto that thread of security and refused to believe or even hear out the actual fact(which i will come to later). as you can see, i was a stubborn mf. inside i knew that even if tae not having time off was the "only" reason behind jikook's japan trip, it was still unusual and suspicious to go on a trip with only your "bro" when said "bro" has told you and the world multiple times that they wanna go on a trip alone with you, when the hotel room you're staying at with your "bro" has a see-through glass wall for the bathroom and when you make a whole love confession in the guise of a travel log for your "bro" while your boyfie is waiting for you at home.

in conclusion, i was very insecure.

did i give up? no, not yet. we're getting there.

so as a masochist and out of curiosity caused by insecurity, i searched up jikook videos on yt, thinking "there's no way they could ever have more chemistry than taekook 🙄" - when i tell you i was wrong as fuck, i mean it. i was HUMBLED. the chemistry and tension between jungkook and jimin was undeniable. i felt uncomfortable watching some certain moments, felt things that i didnt feel while shipping taekook, saw things i didnt see in taekook.

i was confused plus the sinking feeling you get when you've been too loud about what you think and your opinions but then it turns out you were a stupid ass bitch.

there was a plethora of jikook vids, and i think my first jikook video was from Made in Busan, ig it was the "serendipity" analysis? back then it made lots of sense to me, but now it looks slightly overanalyzed (i still believe "serendipity" is very much connected to jikook tho). i slowly got more introduced to jikook in general. this mainly occured in like the first week of october and december as i had my boards in november.

december/january-february, 2019

so its been more or less of a year since ive become a tkkr, gcft is still in the back of my head screaming at me. and then jikook drop another bomb. that is, 2018 MMA.

this..was just, just..i cant explain it in words. jungkook had every bit of his attention directed towards jimin, they were giving each other loving glances, jimin giving jungkook a flying kiss, jungkook giving jimin a finger heart, jungkook subconsciously massaging jimins nape..it was just so domestic and coupley. i've never third wheeled so bad in my life. i felt like i was interrupting something by watching them. imagine how hyunjae next to them felt😔✊not to mention how it very much looked like jungkook was saying "남편"[ nampyeon] meaning "husband" and "형의 남친"[ hyung-ui namchin ] meaning " hyung's boyfriend" in their conversation after jimin pointed to himself and jungkook (forgive me if the spellings/romanizations are not accurate enough, im not fully fluent in korean). plus, after jungkook said it, jimin smiles and shyly looks down..LIKE??

watch from 31:00 to see for yourself. im not kidding.(p.s i love this video so much)

i was bamboozled. i was shocked. i was frustrated. i was feeling stupid. i was begging for taekook to drop something mindblowing or sumn that would regain my secuity in the ship and i found some moments during other award shows but, it didnt feel the same. to me it was really looking like taekook had boundaries and limits between each other, the limits that apply when you're good friends. but with jikook, i couldnt see how their gazes towards each other could be passed off as anything platonic, how their actions+body language could ever be seen as platonic.

so what did i do? did i give up? oh hell no im stubborn as fuck. but we're getting there.

i ignored every jikook moment and brought my focus back on taekook, i started watching analysis and moments again. in a span of a few weeks, the security around my ship had improved after pretending that i didnt feel like a stupid mf after MMA 2018. haha. it sorta worked lol. sorta.

march-may, 2019

these were my last months as a taekooker.

after all that shit, all i wanted was more taekook moments to make me feel better about myself. and i did get quite a few. however, as i said before, they looked like they had boundaries. i couldnt look at them exactly the same.

i was busy in april with my class tests, i doubt i had much time to catch up with the boys. so when the tests ended, it was most likely in the last week of april or the first few days of may.

we all know what happened in the first few days of may, don't we? in case you don't, this is what happened.

surprisingly, i clearly remember the first time i got to know about it.

it was in class, i just arrived and then one of my friends and i start talking and she goes [this convo is all translated from bengali]

"hey did you see what jungkook did at the latest concert?"

"no, i didn’t, what did he do?"

"he went and literally sucked on jimins ear!"

i was shocked once again, my eyes went wide, my heart did a backflip..all that shit. i didnt believe it at first.

"don't joke around like that, you're being absurd" i said.

"im not kidding bro, he sucked jimins ear in the rosebowl concert last week, ill send you a link too"

when i got back home, sure enough, the link was there and i saw jungkooks ear nibbling in all its glory, albeit a bit low quality. but no doubt he took that ear into his mouth and i knew it.

surely i must've given up now? no, but im this🤏 close we're almost there i promise

i went online and found lots of tkkrs denying that jungkook ever took jimin's ear into his mouth and that jimin's ear only got caught on jk's chin. but..if it got caught on jk's chin then that means his chin was behind jimin's ear, and his lips must have been at least kissing jimin's ear, given that we couldnt see them very well. the lip we could see was the upper lip, which again lead me to be believe that jungkook did indeed, suck jimin's ear.

yeah, my faith in tkk was crumbling into millions of pieces. because i couldnt see how jungkook, being in a supposed relationship with taehyung, could do that with tae's best friend. i sure as hell wouldnt let my partner get away with that, nor would i ever do that myself with someone else other than my partner. even if its to comfort them. it just goes way over platonic boundaries.

i was seriously considering shifting over to jikook by now. but before that, i searched lots of shit up abt jikook.

there i saw an interview where jimin talked about the tokyo trip with jungkook. what i believed until now was that vminkook were supposed to go tgthr but jikook were the ones with time off, and tae didnt have time off. jimin said he told taehyung and jungkook that he wants to go on a trip to Japan. he didnt say he wanted to go on a trip WITH taehyung and jungkook. yall, ive told my wishes to go to japan and turkey multiple times to my friends, does that mean im taking their asses with me? no. mind you, jimin has said he wanted to go on a trip alone with jungkook multiple times in their rookie era. on jimin's bday of 2017, jungkook tweeted a pic of him(jimin) with the caption "Its not over yet.." and shortly after, we find out jikook went on a tokyo trip by THEMSELVES with no staff, no managers and no other members. dropped off at the airport by jungkook's dad and brother and jimin's dad. jungkook paid for everything and put a hell lot of time into making the masterpiece that is gcf in tokyo WITH a bgm of a gay fucking song by a queer fucking artist and showed the fucking rainbow colored ferris wheel at the line "love is a road that goes both ways".

also

its clear who the main model of gcf is.

you can deny the trip being only for jikook, but you can not deny the symbolism and significance shown in gcf in tokyo. saying "jungkook didnt understand the song, hes not fluent in english" - is so small minded and belittling.

saying he didnt show jimin on the parts "boy, im holding onto something, wont let go of you for nothing, im running, running just to keep my hands on you" on purpose is not only straight up denial but also understimating jungkook's intelligence and artistic capabilities, saying that jungkook isnt smart enough to get the meaning behind these words. and just because hes korean. thats fucking racist if you ask me.

then i discovered the iconic osaka vlives, i was convinced. it was my last straw along with rosebowl.

alas, after around a week of denial, i gave up and became a jikooker in mid may of 2019. ive never looked back. over the years they've only given us more and more evidence and i doubt my beliefs will ever change soon.

i hope this was kinda fun to read, i had been planning to do this for a long time. im glad i finally got to say my thoughts out here. thank you for taking the time to read this<3

[ducktoonsfanart]

Donald Duck and his family mourn the dead in memory of the victims of the terrorist attack and bombing - Donald Duck and his family in Moscow (Russia) and Belgrade (Serbia) - Duck comics - Duckverse

Unfortunately, sorry for the long wait, because I was sick for a few weeks, and I'm recovering a bit now, so I haven't had a chance to draw and post new drawings. Yes, I'm back and will post follow-up drawings related to the previous holidays that were marked as well as the following holidays in the coming period.

Unfortunately, due to the recent events, I am publishing my sad drawings where Donald Duck and his family mourn the deceased. The first drawing shows Donald Duck with Daisy Duck, along with his nephews Huey, Dewey and Louie Duck who went to Moscow (the capital of Russia) and where they are mourning the dead and honoring the departed since a week ago (22.3. 2024) a terrorist attack took place in Moscow, in the Crocus City Hall, where over 140 people were killed and over 360 wounded. More could have been killed, if not for a few young men (Muslims and Russians) who saved the other people and took them out of the concert hall, because a concert by a Russian music group was about to take place. Among the dead were not only Russians, but also members of other nationalities who wanted to see that concert. The perpetrators are alleged Muslim terrorists from the Islamic State, and all of them were later caught. I don't want to go further into the discussion about the main principal who financed these terrorists, nor do I want to go into the discussion about the current war in Ukraine, because my blog is not about politics and please don't ask me those questions. This just shows my respect for the deceased not only the victims of that terrorist attack but also all the victims who died in terrorist attacks in the last more than 24 years. It is certainly a terrible event, which is why two days of mourning were declared after that, and I drew the Russian flag at half-mast, because on the day of mourning, the flag is only flown at half-mast, and Daisy in that drawing is wearing a coat and a black bow as a sign of mourning and black clothes are usually worn at funerals. Behind them, you can see the Basilica of St. Basil as well as the Spasskaya Tower, which is located within the Kremlin. Rest in peace to those victims.

Покойтесь с миром жертвы теракта! Слава им! Аминь.

The second drawing shows Donald with his family who are in Belgrade (the capital of Serbia) where they are mourning those who died and died during the bombing by NATO in 1999, as well as the victims in Kosovo and Metohija in 2004. I said that I come from Serbia and what happened 25 years ago was something that many residents of my country cannot forget. I was two years old when it started, so I don't remember it, except from the story of my parents. I don't want to go further into the discussion about the beginning of the war because the topic is too painful, and I doubt that many would understand what I would say. All in all, civilians did not deserve such a thing and it is very difficult to get over such wounds. Because among the dead there were also children who suffered from NATO bombing. There was also the courage of the soldiers who defended the country from the attackers and died bravely defending their country, so they are also honored. In addition to Donald, there are also Daisy Duck, Grandma Duck (Elvira Coot), Scrooge McDuck, Huey, Dewey and Louie Duck (Donald's nephews), April, May and June Duck (Daisy's nieces) where they pay tribute to those who died in that war as well as in the violence in Kosovo and Metohija that occurred in 2004, when there was also a mass exodus of Serbs, Roma, Bosniaks and other non-Albanian people from Kosovo and Metohija and the demolition of numerous Orthodox monasteries and churches by Albanian fanatics. Behind them is the Church of St. Sava, one of the largest Orthodox churches in the world, as well as the Beogradanka building, where one of Belgrade's television stations is located. On that grave is written the dedication to those victims as well as the flowers brought to that grave.

Rest in peace to those victims! Amen.

Вечна слава настрадалима и нека почивају у миру! Амин.

Also, since tomorrow is Good Friday, the day of the martyrdom of Jesus Christ, which is a sad day for Christians.

These are my tribute to those victims as well as those who suffered, and that the victims should not be forgotten and history should not be forgotten, because if it is forgotten, it will repeat itself again. Feel free to share this, but please do not use this for other people's purposes and please do not complicate it with political issues, because this blog is not dedicated to that. May God welcome the victims into the Kingdom of God and may they receive eternal glory! Rest in peace! Amen.

[delusionalblfan]

as i expected throughout the whole episode i was so tense and with teary eyes. the whole damn episode. but i literally bawled my eyes out in three moments. the three of them made me stop watching to catch a breath and to just think about life and choices and stuff. i was so into them i felt sick to my stomach

1. when Babe kissed Babe's forehead three times, it got to me more than the whole scene of Babe realising Charlie was dead. it was so tender, full of regret of untold words, it was what Babe regretted not doing to Charlie before the race. it was a goodbye. it was a 'i cannot live without you'. a 'i respect and love you so much for everything you've done for me', a 'i do not deserve you', a 'you do not deserve this'. i felt it all. it was a detail that made all the difference to me and of which i am very thankful for. it was what my emotions needed to really make me go 'no! this is happening' and make me crumble

2. Babe alone at home with Charlie's gloves while reminiscing their times together. he remembered their first meeting as expected. but then he remembered moments that Charlie made him feel special, told him he is special, irrevocably and unconditionally told him he is the reason he ever tried to stop Tony. Babe knows that what Charlie has been doing is not for his own self, but for Babe. this moment Babe is feeling so much pain and so much guilt and it's palpable. and it's as if he feels like the gloves are the only good thing he gave to Charlie and he wants to hold on to them. he needs a physical thing to hold on to, given he doesn't have Charlie. he wants to keep the thing he gave to Charlie and thinks he likes the most. he wants to keep what he saw in Charlie's eyes was what he was most proud of. (Babe, news to you: you are it. you are what Charlie most wanted, most loved and most wanted to show off. you are what makes Charlie happy. you)

3. Alan and Dean's scene (PHENOMENAL) what a moment. seeing Sailub and Lee's emotions so raw that they are physically feeling it. that's the feeling i got. the hurting in their voices made me go crazy. i lost myself there. and i got the whole moment. Dean always felt like the outsider, haven't found his place and used that to self-pity, never spoke about it until recently and only now is doing something to not live in the shadows, but unfortunately by doing wrong decisions. they are family (remembering these men have no blood relatives, they are each others family and that's as valid as blood relatives. it's Family) i am sure they would support him if he decided to find his place somewhere on the racing world. but he was so desperate he decided to do it by siding with the person that has done most harm to his family members, and by harming a family member (i know nothing about mechanics, but he said it, he did want to scare Charlie so he would give up racing, so Dean was willing to make Charlie get into an accident to scare him). and Alan was so hurt. and i bet i know some traits of him so he must be thinking 'this is happening again within my family, the family i started, the people i sworn to protect, i must not be monitoring their feelings well, where did i do wrong, i definitely did something wrong'. but at the same time he knew Dean did a very bad thing, the was so hurt with Dean and so disappointed. and to make the (right!) choice of calling the police on a family member must be so hard. they will not be family like before. the trust was broken. and realising that this is the end, the way they physically gave up and bended. Alan grabbing him like he wants to embrace him still! i believe they get each other's point of view, but Dean was already so hurt by all these years (this boy has a fucking inner saboteur!) and false accusations but shattered by the fact that Alan could in fact, but to his eyes only now, show love towards him and Alan was so hurt that a family member hurt another family member (again) and still very regretful for what he could have done… this is unequivocally a breakup and it was very real and hurtful to watch

[velvethopewrites]

The sob story with this is that I wrote this yesterday and it got deleted before I could save it. I wanted to die cry, basically. Somehow I managed to re-create most of it, after working on it all damn day. (I basically ended up writing over 6,000+ words in one day. Yowza) I still feel as though the first version was better, but…no one knows that but me, I suppose. (And my partner, who got to read it right before the horrors happened). Regardless, I am proud of this and proud of myself for not giving up when it really would have been easy to. So huzzah to the fickle hand of fate and all that stuff.

For Suptober 2023 prompt “starlight”

I tag @fellshish and @canonblastedships and @clarkenting for being super cool reblog buddies, lol (which is just a thing I made up) This is the longest destiel fic I’ve written yet and it will be my first official AO3 destiel! (As soon as I remember how to do that, oy)

Edited: Now with Spiffy AO3 Link! Here!

The Starlight

There were three types of people that visited the Starlight Lounge — drunks, people desperate to score, and the employees that made their bread and butter trying to tame the other two.

Dean Winchester, unfortunately, was a member of that third group. Oh, sure, Dean had been known to put away a fair bunch of liquor in his day, and sure, Dean had definitely been known to do the Bedroom Rodeo whenever the opportunity presented itself. Hell, back when he’d first started at the Starlight he’d often been three types at once. Work, drink, get laid. Sometimes, not even in that order.

But that was past Dean. Current and newly mature Dean (hah) just wanted to work, go home, eat and fall into his bed. Working at the Starlight wasn’t that bad – it had fairly decent pay and it was often interesting. And like everyone else, Dean had bills to pay and he gave more than his fair share to Sammy. Not that Sam really needed it anymore; he was busy working as a law clerk downtown, putting himself through school. But still, Dean wanted to help as much as he could and besides it was his brotherly duty. Heh. Duty.

Tonight, due to the cold and rainy weather, the bar was fairly empty and business had been slow. There was only one of his regulars, a writer by the name of Chuck crying into his notebooks at the back of the bar. To be honest, Dean had never seen Chuck write a damn thing but the man sure could put scotch away like a pro.  There was also a young couple making out in one of the booths near the restrooms. He’d been keeping an eye on them most of the night, actually, making sure no one lost any clothing. The Starlight didn’t need a public indecency charge on the books. At least, not so soon since the last one, at any rate. 

Dean yawned and finished cleaning up the bar, hoping Chuck and the couple on their way to Soft-Porn Town would soon be leaving. Maybe Dean could even push them on their way a bit early, so he could get home at a decent time, for once.  As he walked over towards Chuck to perhaps lightly suggest the writer hit the road, the double doors of the bar blew open – bringing in the rain, the cold rush of the wind and a new customer in a beige trench coat with seriously fucked up hair. Great.

Dean sighed and turned back around as the new guy slumped onto the first stool at the bar. His dark brown, messed up hair looked even worse up close, and he had a scowl on his face as he glared down at the bar in front of him.

“Whiskey. Neat,” Messy-Hair said, voice low and very rumbly.

Dean pulled down a clean glass and poured some of their nicer whiskey into it. Dude looks like he could afford it, at any rate. He had a nice suit on under the coat, now that Dean could properly see it and his watch was one of those big clunky things that could probably tell the time on Jupiter or some shit like that. The man’s hand reaches for the glass before Dean has barely pushed it forward. He throws back the drink in record time and hits the bar with it so that it makes a loud thunk.

“Another one.”

Dean shrugged as the man kept glaring down at the bar as though it contained all the answers to life and everything else; Dean knew for a fact that it didn’t. It didn’t even have a ‘42’ scratched into it or anything. (RIP Douglas Adams)

This time the man just wraps his hand around the glass, his fingers clutching at it and woah, Dean thinks, dude’s got some huge fucking hands. They’re big and they’re strong looking. The fingers are nice and long and graceful and oh, oh, oh. Maybe it’s a kink, or maybe it’s a preference, but Dean loves hands. Manly looking mitts like Messy-Hair here and even smaller, more delicate hands like on most women, with pretty nail colors. But Dean’s not choosy.

He sees motion out of the corner of his eye and notices Chuck signaling that he’d like to pay up. Glancing at Messy-Hair he figures he has a few minutes before having to pour him another so he sets the bottle down and heads over to the other side.

“All right there, Chuck?”

“Yeah, yeah, thank you, Dean.”

The older man is flipping through his wallet and counting out his cash slowly. Dean wipes the bar and puts Chuck’s last glass into the bucket for later cleaning.

“Write anything tonight?” Dean always asks this question. It’s like a little game he and Chuck play because it always has the same answer.

“No,” Chuck says looking up at him. He places his finger to his temple solemnly, almost like he’s holding a gun. “But I did a lot of work up here.”

He always gives Dean this look as though Dean should know exactly what he’s talking about. But, of course, Dean never does. He likes to read but he sure as hell would never attempt to write. Personally, he thinks Chuck is sort of crazy, but hey, to each their own, right?

Chuck pushes his notebooks into his old canvas bag on the bar. It’s bulging with everything he carries with him and looks fit to burst. Dean supposes that writer’s block is heavy business.

Chucks nods goodnight as he slips his bag over his shoulders, buckling a bit under the weight. Dean watches as he wobbles away and he’s not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the bag. He’d normally be worried (hey, no bar can stay in business if all its clientele got themselves killed), but he knows Chuck lives nearby. He’ll be all right and probably in his same spot tomorrow evening. He puts Chuck’s money into the till and realizes he tipped Dean more than usual. He really did have had a good night, then.

He notices the couple trying to break the world record for smooches in a single night are getting up and putting on their jackets. Maybe Dean can get out early; he’s got the DVR set for Dr Sexy already, but he wouldn’t say no to catching it live for once.

Glancing over he sees Messy-Hair is now resting his head on the bar, but he lifts it as the doors bang shut behind Chuck, the cold burst of wind making his hair looking even more disheveled. Dean heads back over to see if he needs a refill and is suddenly struck dumb by the other man finally looking at him. Holy Mother of Blue, those are some eyes. The dude is handsome. Like old-time movie handsome. Strong jaw, with a smattering of scruff, pink soft lips and eyes that look like they can see into your soul, no, scratch that, not see, but pierce. Dean swallows roughly and picks up the whiskey bottle. 

“Hey, uh, it’s getting late. One more for the road?” Dean assumes the dude doesn’t know the Starlight is technically open until midnight. Assumes, hah. More like prays.

Blue-Eyes stares at him and frowns. “I thought this establishment closed at midnight.”

“Er, yeah. I suppose it does.”

“Then I’ll take another,” Blue-Eyes pauses and holds out his glass. “And keep them coming for the next forty-five minutes, barkeep.”

Dean blinks at the old-fashioned word and pours another round. They stare at each other until he hears a giggle and a clearing of a throat. He looks over to see the couple and wonders how long they’ve been waiting. Judging from the churlish look on the guy’s face and the barely contained laughter emanating from the girl, it’s been awhile. He settles their tab and takes their money (lousy tip, of course) as the two saunter past Blue-Eyes and escape out into the night. Well, at least Dean can see it’s stopped raining.

Making up his mind, he follows them from behind the bar and locks the door after them. He flips off the sign, too. He may be stuck here with Blue-Eyes, but he’ll be damned if he’ll let someone else come meandering in to make him get home even later.

He comes back to stand in front of his customer and makes a decision. Pulling down another glass, he pours some of the whiskey into it and sighs as the warmth of it hits his system. What do they always say about good whiskey? It should warm the cockles of the heart, or something like that. Not that Dean actually knows what a cockle is, but hey, it went down smooth.

He realizes Blue-Eyes is watching him and Dean decides to bite the bullet. He’s tired, bored and probably on his way to cranky town if Blue-Eyes keeps his word about the next forty-five minutes.

“So, what brings you out on a cold and rainy night like tonight, Mr, uh…what’s your name? I can’t keep calling you what I’ve been calling you in my head.”

The other man squints and tilts his head at Dean like a tiny, confused bird. And no, Dean doesn’t find that adorable at all. Nope.

“What have you been calling me in your head?”

Dean purses his lips. Sometimes he’s really an idiot. He gives Blue-Eyes a shaky laugh.

“I said I wasn’t gonna keeping doing that.”

They stare at each other again, neither one budging until Blue-Eyes releases a breath and blinks, shoulders slumping a bit more. By the end of the night Dean expects this guy to be melted into the floor.

“Cas.”

Dean frowns. “Your name is Mr Cas?”

“No, just Cas.” Blue-Eyes, no, scratch that, Cas then holds out his hand so Dean can shake it like they’re fellow professionals meeting at a party or something. As he grips the other man’s hand in his own he realizes Cas’s hand is warm, dry, and, yep, strong. The dude is seriously ticking all of Dean’s boxes without even trying. It’s a bit unnerving, really.

“Is that short for something?” Dean asks, wondering what type of name that is.

Cas just looks at him over the rim of his glass. “Perhaps.”

Neither of them say anything else for a long moment and Dean shakes his head. “People ever tell you you talk too much?”

“Yes. All the time,” Cas says with a smirk.

Dean laughs. “Well, whatever. It’s officially nice to meet you, Cas. I’m Dean. Humble and professional barkeep at your service.”

“Hello, Dean.”

Cas’s voice is deep but there’s a warmth to it that makes Dean happy.  They chit-chat for a bit, just like Dean would do with any newbie to the bar. He pours them both another round and then tries his question again.

“So, you seemed a bit upset earlier. What brought you through my doors, Cas?”

Cas sighs and glances away. He taps his fingers lightly on the polished wood of the bar. He stares at Dean as though assessing him and then looks as though he’s made up his mind.

“My…er, the person I’ve been dating, dumped me tonight. We went to an expensive restaurant and ordered far too pricey food for the serving size and drank outrageously fancy wine. Then they ordered an expensive bottle of cognac, drank it all and then told me I wasn’t worth it.”

Dean winces. “Ouch. How long were you together?”

“Six months.”

“Well, it’s not too long for a relationship, but it’s long enough to hurt.”

Cas nods, looking sullen again.

“What special occasion was it?”

Cas stares at him. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Fancy restaurant, the way you’re dressed, the cognac. Nobody orders that unless there’s been a birth or an anniversary or both.”

“It was my birthday,” Cas says, looking down again.

“Fuck,” Dean blurts out without thinking. “And they dumped you? Seriously bad juju, man.”

Cas nods and takes another drink of his whiskey, looking miserable. Dean tops off both of their glasses and hums.

“What was his name?”

Cas whips his head up, suddenly looking confused and more than a little worried. “I never said it was a he.”

“It was your distinct lack of pronouns, dude. Always the dead giveaway. Trust me, as a guy who plays for both sides, I know. Pronouns are key. Hey, relax, Cas, this is a safe space.” Dean points to the small pride flag he keeps above the bar and watches as Cas visibly relaxes.

The silence that falls between them is comfortable now. Welcoming, even. Cas clears his throat and rests his hand on his chin, peering at Dean.

“So…you’re bi, I assume or, pan, perhaps?”

“Got it in one. Just another bisexual loser ruining the world one lay at a time.”

Dean winks to show he’s only kidding. He’s proud to be bi, but it doesn’t mean he can’t make a joke at his own expense. Of course, if Sam or his friend Charlie were here they’d both tell him what they thought of that.

“His name was Bartholomew.”

Dean snorts. “It fits him. Douche-y name for a douche-canoe.”

Cas barks out a laugh and it completely changes his face into something truly beautiful. Dean suddenly feels the need to always make Cas laugh like that. He can’t imagine anyone not wanting to – his laugh is infectious. And the light it puts in his eyes is irresistible.

Cas looks serious again as he swirls the rest of the whiskey in his glass. “To be honest, Bart was just the last in a long line of failed…connections. I’m doubting my own self-worth at this point. Everyone ends up leaving or they get fed up with me. I’m too introverted…too socially awkward to deal with, I suppose.”

“I don’t know, you seem to be doing okay right now.”

“I’ve been drinking,” Cas says, deadpan. “And also I’m paying you.”

Dean chuckles. “Not really, I decided to stop charging you as soon as I poured my first one.”

“Your hospitality know no bounds. Truly.”

Dean laughs. Cas’s dry delivery and poker-faced expressions really are the limit. He feels that familiar warmth he always gets when he meets someone new. A someone new that excites him. But he pushes the feeling aside because he knows on some level that trying to get into Cas’s pants is so not what the other man needs right now. Dean shivers as he realizes how damn mature that sounds. Next he’ll be looking into 401ks and cemetery plots.

“Well, consider them birthday drinks. Of course, this stuff doesn’t cost a small fortune or anything, but I figured you’d already paid out enough tonight.”

Cas smirks and shakes his head at Dean. “Thank you, Dean. It’s actually very kind of you to…take pity on me.”

He says it jokingly but Dean gets the sense that he means it. He reaches forward and touches Cas’s hand.

“Hey, no pity here. You are ridiculously attractive and if I didn’t have a conscience, I’d definitely be throwing out my best lines here to help you relieve some tension, if you know what I mean. And you are not awkward to me, but even if you were, it wouldn’t be enough to stop me from asking for your number or seeing if you wanted to meet up sometime. I barely know you but you seem like a decent guy, Cas. And I think all of those people that don’t get you can just fuck right off. You need to keep trying, man. Don’t give up just because a few losers couldn’t see what they had.”

Cas blinks at Dean, blue eyes getting huge. “You think I’m ridiculously attractive?”

Dean thinks back. Did he say that? Yeah, he said that. Figures that would be the only thing to register with the dude.

“What sort of line would you use on me? I mean, if you were going to, that is.” Cas shyly glances away and then back, a curious look on his face.

“Oh, uh, probably something like, well you know what they say — the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” Dean waggles his eyebrows and smirks, faking a leer.

“I’m not sure that would work with me,” Cas says, mirth clear in his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. You’d make me work for it, I know. But seriously, you need to regroup, clear out the douche-canoes from your life and find a new guy, man.”

Cas smiles at him in fondness, and nope, Dean is not going to do it. He will not break his rule about dating people just out of relationships. Not even for big huge blue eyes that make him feel sappy like a love song. Cas, however, clearly has other plans.

“This may be forward but, um, Dean would you allow me take you out for dinner? As a date, in case you were wondering how I meant it.”

“Oh, wow, Cas, um, I mean…”

Cas’s face takes an interesting journey in two seconds – from hopeful joy to miserable and wretched. Dean feels his heart break a little bit for him in that moment and mentally kicks his own ass for being a tool.

“Oh, I see. I…I’m sorry, Dean. Thank you for hospitality.” Cas fumbles with his wallet and places far too much money next to his glass. “I won’t keep you anymore. Go home and enjoy whatever is left of your night.”

Dean watches dumbly as Cas sits up straighter and then turns in his seat, his broad shoulders unyielding, suddenly. Dean knows he just can’t let it end like this.

“No, wait, Cas!”

Dean practically flings himself around the bar to reach Cas before he can unlock the door and leave without a backwards glance. He rests his hand on Cas’s shoulder, stopping him.

“It’s only because I have a rule about dating people that just got out of a relationship. It has nothing to do with you, I promise you. You need to focus on you, dude. Figure out what you’re looking for. If this one was just the last in a long line of guys who don’t understand you, try and see what people you’re going for. I mean, I’m no expert, and God knows I’ve had my fair share of jumping before looking moments, but I think you just need some Cas time right now, you know? If we ever start something I do not want to be rebound guy and you deserve something better than a one night stand.”

Cas stares at him, blue eyes half in shadow.  Dean holds his breath, hoping he didn’t just lose something. All he can hear is the clock ticking behind him and the pounding of his own heart in his ears.

“That was quite the speech,” Cas finally says. “You sound like you know from experience.”

“Cas, man. You have no idea.”

“I have some, like I said, a long line of rejections. Still…”  Cas’s eyes search his face and then nods to himself. “Maybe you’re right. I do tend to do things without thinking in this area of life despite being very practical usually. And you’re also right on anther point, Dean. You do not deserve to be “rebound guy”.”

Dean can’t help his grin as Cas makes the quotes motion with his fingers. They stare at each other for a bit longer before he unlocks the door. Cas steps out as the cold air filters in between them, causing them bother to shiver. Dean pauses, and then holds out his hand. “Let me have your phone.”

“My phone?”

“Yeah, you have one, right? Or have you moved on to something flashier like sky writing?”

Cas snorts and shakes his head. He fumbles in his pockets and then pulls out a slim, black smartphone. He unlocks it and hands it over. Of course, it’d be that kind of phone that can help you bake bread or turn off all the lights in the world with just a click or something. He finally finds what he’s looking for and puts his contact information in.

“There. There’s my number. Text me to let me know you get home, okay? And as for the rest, we’ll take it one day at a time, Cas. Let’s be friends, first.”

Cas smiles shyly as he looks down at his phone and nods. “Friends, first. I like that. Goodnight, Dean.”

“Goodnight, buddy. Be safe.”

Cas slips out and away, leaving a coldness in his wake as he takes his body heat with him. Dean watches him go, the black of the night almost swallowing him up. Cas pauses to pull his coat tighter, the glow of the streetlight lighting up his profile. To Dean he looks pure—angelic, almost, like a painting or a sculpture. With one last look at Dean, he eventually fades away, disappearing back into the world. Soon all Dean can see is his own breath in the air and the twinkling starlight from the surprisingly clear sky above. He locks up again and finishes his routine for the night. After he’s put the money in the safe and headed out back to his car, he feels happy inside. Like something good just occurred — like some new path has been cleared for him to travel. His drive home is quick and easy, there’s hardly any traffic mostly due to the earlier rain. It’s just as he’s pulling into his driveway that he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. It’s from an unknown number and his heart beats faster as he reads the message.

From unknown: I arrived home safely, Dean. Thank you, again. Would you like to get coffee tomorrow, or, perhaps I should say, later today? Oh, this is Cas, by the way. In case you didn’t know. :)

Dean saves the number and then returns to the message to reply, a grin creeping onto his face before he even realizes it.

Dean: Of course, dude. Coffee sounds great. Around 1pm?

Cas: Perfect. Do you know the Blue Java Café on Marion and Elm? It’s across from the park and one of my favorite places.

Dean: Sounds good. Can’t wait to talk to you sober, ya lush… (lol j/k hah) 

Cas sends him a sticking-tongue-out emoji as a response and Dean chuckles as he locks up his car. He has a nice, happy feeling in his heart as he thinks of Cas. Like maybe this is something special. Or maybe it’s just that it could be and has the potential to be. He knows he told Cas friends first, but Dean’s willing to see where it…where they, can go.

[celticcrossanon]

Celta, I have to vent. I was scrolling through Parkle gossip online and saw this and naturally I felt a pang of sympathy for someone who has to allegedly ask his wife if he’s not good enough for her anymore.

Then I scrolled a bit more and got angry. Mutsu Potsane was an orphaned kid in Lesotho that Harry befriended through his charity Sentebale. To show how much Harry appreciates Mutsu after 14 years, Harry invited Mutsu to fly out to the UK for his wedding… only for Mutsu to be given a ticket to stand outside Windsor Castle and wave at Harry when there reportedly where plenty of seats for people from Harry’s charities that could have been seated inside St. George’s Chapel during Harry’s wedding ceremony. It was reported in the news back in 2018 but only resurfaced again online today. 

Sentebale literally means “forget me not” (or in proper English “don’t forget me”). It’s infuriating how much of a nasty, awful hypocrite Harry truly is. This isn’t the first time I’ve read reports of Harry neglect vulnerable kids at his charity Sentebale but it makes me angry when I read about in the papers. I’ve never known any other member of the Royal Family to mistreat people like this from their charities.

This reminds me that Karma does pay attention to the fact that Harry has treated people very badly throughout his life. It’s ironic that only now, Harry is being mistreated by someone he chose to marry. Unfortunately, learning the Golden Rule of treating people how you want to be treated is a karmic lesson I think Harry is too dense and immature to understand and appreciate.

Sorry for the depressing comments. I wish I could find a funny or sweet royal story to send you as it is Christmas in a day or two (depending on the time zones) and maybe I still will be able to. ;) That being said, I wish you and everyone else here a very merry Happy Christmas! :)

*

Hi TeaWithBooks,

It is hard with Harry as he has done awful things which make people (including me) very angry at him, one of which (for me) is his neglect of the promises he made to various orphans at Sentable, and then there is the natural empathy and horror and feeling concerned for someone who is manipulated and abused by his wife. I think it is very human to feel both emotions and to feel conflicted about them,

Sometimes I try to hold space for both emotions, i.e. say to myself yes, Harry is a horrible person, but that does not mean that his wife can abuse him, and at other times (most of the times) I am just a confused mess. I dislike, very much, how Harry ahs acted and how he has abused his grandparents and his family, his broken promises toward the Sentable orphan whose name I can’t remember, his alleged abuse of women, and the wedding invitation mentioned above is just another one to add to that list.  

But - and it is a but I keep coming back to -

none of this excuses Meghan’s behaviour. Spousal abuse is wrong. AFAIK Harry is not mistreating her in any way, so there is no reason for her abuse and manipulation of him. She is not the one who has suffered from his actions above - if anything, she has encouraged most of them. 

I suppose I am kind of glad that they are married to each other and not making other people miserable, but that does not excuse either one of them.

There are no innocent victims here. We have a male who has abused others married to a woman who manipulates and abuses him. Neither is an innocent party and the wrongdoings of one do not excuse the wrongdoings of the other.

This is far too complicated for me so I am going to leave it to the higher power to sort out. :)

[writersmilex]

Rescue Mission

Magnus Hammersmith X Fem | Reader

Summary : (Y/n) goes to save Toki and Abigail by herself. And have a reunion with an old lover.

_____________________________

"Bastards!" (Y/n) angrily slams her hands on the table as she watches the remaining band members party like there is nothing going on.

"they really think they can avoid what's going on? Just like that?!" (Y/n) sneers in frustration, turning away and leaving the room.

"I wanted to help find Toki and Abigail. But Offdensen won't let me..." She crosses her arms as she walks down the dark halls of Mordhaus and moves into her room. "It's too dangerous, he said." She Looks over at her desk filled with various clues she had taken from the systems to find their location. Along with the memories of the beginning that she can still remember so vividly. (Y/n)'s eyes shine as she has made a breakthrough in her research. Her gaze set upon the location she is sure to find her missing friends.

"Don't worry Toki, Abigail. I'm coming for you." Her fists, resting on the desk, clench in determination.

~~~~

With the research she has done, it was quite easy to find the location that (Y/n) suspected where her friends would be. You remember the place vaguely. This is where the band had their audition for a second guitarist, much to Swkisgaar’s dismay at the time, he scared away most of the people who tried the audition, except one: and that was Toki.

(Y/n) was there when it happened, and that’s when she met Toki for the first time, a hopeful and ambitious kid with noticeable musical talent, if he could keep with someone like Skwisgaar. (Y/n) was impressed as well and took a liking to him quickly, he is naturally likeable, always has been… Thinking about Toki saddens her now, she misses him so badly. Her stupid friends think they can ignore the situation which angers her. Going after Toki and Abigail by herself is the best way to cease all the mixed emotions she is feeling. She is gonna get an earful from Charles when she gets back… And maybe from Nathan as well.

Upon arriving at the place, it wouldn’t be smart to face whoever took her friends head-on. (Y/n) can pick fights with other women in bars but this is not a bar sadly. She’ll take an entrance by the side to get in unnoticed. It wasn’t a good idea to come without a solid plan, in the desperation to get Toki back there wasn’t a plan at all. The best she can do is to sneak in, and get her friends out. It’s the next best thing! (Y/n) is flexible enough to crawl through a broken window, heart racing, there is no way back now. Only forward, and that’s exactly what she is going to do. (Y/n) likes to imagine that she is in a stealth video game, it helps her calm her nerves a little bit. She didn’t come completely unarmed, she has a hunting knife that she bought while out with Nathan, it will surely be useful now… For example, he knocks out a skinhead-looking fellow with the hilt of the weapon, and takes the keys that were dangling from his belt. She has a feeling that these keys will take her where she wants to go.

She tries the keys on the nearest door she finds. The metal door creaks and groans as it opens slowly, light from the hall seeping into the dark room, then the light hits two individuals that (Y/n) recognized instantly.

It’s Abigail and Toki, huddled together in each other’s arms, quivering and cowering. They look injured. The two squint in the light. "(Y/n)?" Abigail tries to look at the figure obscured by the shadow's light. But her silhouette is recognizable. "(Y/n)!" Toki squeaks, his whole expression lighting up with a newfound hope. (Y/n) enters the room, smiling at her friends. "I'm here. Here to save you." She slowly approached her horrified friends. The faces of her friends fall when another shadow joins the light. An all so familiar figure.

"(Y/n) watch out!" Abigail Cries and tries to warn her. Unfortunately (Y/n) is too slow to react. Before she could even turn around to see who was behind her, she struck on the head, knocking her out cold before she could even hit the ground.

The figure is standing over the unconscious (Y/n) on the ground. Toki and Abigail cower in fear. ~~~~

(Y/n) groans in pain as she comes to, she is seated upright in a chair. Her neck hurts from the uncomfortable position and she can feel a liquid trickle down her temple. Her wrists and feet were bound to the armrests and chair legs with ropes tightly, surely it would leave marks on her wrists.

Once she gains her bearings she looks up and makes eye contact with a familiar face. A face she had come to hate, “Of course, it’s you…” She hisses at her ex-lover: Magnus Hammersmith.

"You're still as surprising as always (Y/n)." Magnus says, sounding amused. He then leans forward, one of his forearms resting on his knee, curly hair swaying slightly. His expression softens a little, “And still as beautiful as the day you betrayed me.” He admits, reaching his hand closer to gingerly taking a strand of (Y/n) hair within his fingers, feels soft…

(Y/n) scoffs at him. She jerked her head away from him, her hair slipping from his grasp easily. "There is no time for catch-up. I'm here to get what is dear to me." She says, staring daggers at him. "and you are not one of those people anymore." She sounds so cold. Naturally, that is. Magnus knows her, she won’t let anyone get in the way of the things she wants. And right now, all she wants is her friends. He looks affected by (Y/n)'s words. It seems that his feelings are unrequited now. After he was kicked out of the band, and dumped by her, he spent months mourning the end of their relationship. Even after that, there is a part of him that still misses her, and now seeing her again has rekindled that fire.

Mangus leans back and crosses his arms, sighing in disappointment "Just hand me my friends and walk away… Revenge is for pussies." (Y/n)'s tone is direct, not wasting any time. "you don't see it, do you!" Magnus raises his voice and stands up, leaning over her, "doesn’t matter, you'll see it soon." He caresses her knuckles with his fingers, something he used to do often back then.

"Lock her up, but hurt her and you’re dead" Magnus orders two cannibals while pointing in the direction of the dungeon. The cannibals grab (Y/n)'s chair and drag it away from the former Dethklok member.

"You're gonna pay for this!" (Y/n) screams at Magnus as she disappears into the shadows.

~~~~

(Y/n)'s chair is pushed into a dark basement. The force causes the chair to tumble onto its side. (Y/n) groans in pain as her head makes a quick impact to the floor. She is still tied to the chair, stuck in the side and not able to move. The door closes and locks. The room is completely dark. It takes a moment for (Y/n)'s eyes to adjust and see a figure move slowly towards her with caution.

"(Y/n)! Are you hurt?" She can hear Abigail's quivering voice. She then feels someone fumble with the ropes, first her arms and then her legs. Once (Y/n) is free from her restraints, she crawls over to embrace Abigail tightly.

"oh God, Abby I'm so sorry I failed to save you and Toki, I'm so, so sorry." (Y/n) pleads for forgiveness into her friend's long and curly hair. Hugging her tightly in order to comfort her and herself as well. Abigail hugs (Y/n) back with the same force. Squeezing her back firmly. "You tried (Y/n), you did your best," she mumbles in response. While it was foolish to come along, the effort is still admirable.

"(Y-Y/n)?" a meek voice joins in. Toki crawls forward to the two women. (Y/n) gasps upon the sight of one of her dearest friends. She lets go of Abigail and wriggles out of her grip to shuffle over to Toki and embrace him. "(Y/n)? Am-ams yous real?" Toki questions shakily, moving his shaking hand to pet (Y/n)'s hair, which does feel real.

"I'm here, Toki. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come alone." (Y/n) remains a firm hold on her friend's shoulders, trying her best not to cry at the state Toki is in. Squeezing him securely, she turns her head to plant a kiss on his head, she has never done this before, but it felt right to express her affection like this. He needs it... One of her hands gently rakes through his hair to keep him close.

Toki starts to sob, clutching (Y/n) like his life depends on it, chanting her name over and over, like a prayer. Abigail shuffles over and joins the little group huddle. (Y/n) continues to mumble her apologies to the other two. Toki and Abigail give her a squeeze in response.

Over the course of a few days, (Y/n) did her best to stay as strong as she could. Although Magnus didn't seem to want to torture her. But it still hurt (Y/n) to watch her friends get hurt. If only she could get her hands on Magnus’ neck, she would snap it twice, decapitate him for good measure and then keep his scalp as a trophy. Her nails have been scrapping against the armrests of the chairs she gets tied in out of sheer anger.

(Y/n) got tied to the chair again and could do nothing but watch her friends being tortured. The feeling of helplessness eating away at her. Beating herself up for being so stupid in coming alone, beating Magus’ up mentally for being a pussy.

All she could do was pray that Dethklok would finally grow some balls and just get here already. Hopefully the fans would eventually realise that a band member is missing, that would surely motivate them.

~~meanwhile~~

Charles massages his forehead in a mix of frustration and exhaustion, there is no evidence of Toki’s and the producer’s whereabouts yet. Not even that… (Y/n) has gone missing now as well. One Kloketeer walks up to the Manager with purpose, seemingly having no information to share. "Sir, from the evidence found in Lord (L/n)’s room, it most likely they went out to find Toki and Mrs. Remeltindrinc." The kloketeer announces in a rather hurried tone.

"sir, (Y/n) has gone missing as well." a kloketeer announces to Charles, who sits up straight upon hearing the news. "what?" his tone is mixed with anger and astonishment. He should have known that (Y/n) would go after Toki and Abigail by herself.

Charles lays his face in his hand in disappointment. Glasses falling crooked upon the movement.

"damn it (Y/n)..." Typical (Y/n) would rather solve problems herself, and as usual she got in trouble for it.

~~~~

Being a hostage of Magnus and his goons felt like it was going on forever, but it was probably just a week or 3. Her wrists feel raw from the restraints, she’s exhausted and nearly completely burned down from her emotional distress and what is clearly a trauma that is developing.

She doesn’t have the energy to fight anymore, breathing hard to control herself. Toki and Abigail are hanging upside down on a cross. (Y/n) can’t stand to see Toki’s face like this, full of pain. He didn’t deserve any of this! He’s probably going to think that this was all his fault, which it really isn’t. If he is going to think like that, (Y/n) will have to remind him every day that it’s not his fault.

The door is suddenly kicked open, revealing the rest of Dethklok!

"Took you fucking long enough." (Y/n) complains as her adrenaline is kicked into action and she starts thrashing in her restraints. Murderface rushes over to her and he unties her, while the others save Toki and Magnus. "It wasch really difficult okay." He dares to argue back while lifting (Y/n) out of the chair, putting her arm over his shoulders to aid her balance. The others help Abigail and Toki down.

(Y/n) gets a feeling, a gut instinct. There are some loose ends she has to tie up. Surely if she didn’t it would haunt her for the rest of her life. (Y/n) wriggles out of Murderface’s grip and moves over to hold Abigail, she feels kind of cold. She squeezes her firmly to share what little remaining warmth she has herself.

Once the band is reunited, the prophecy has begun and that masked assassin is defeated, he is completely disintegrated, which is probably the most brutal thing (Y/n) has seen in a long time.

The red light dies down as (Y/n) leans over to Abigail to whisper something to her. "There is something is have to do." She says and lets her go to leave the building.

"Do what?" Abigail asks, she doesn't get an answer to her question as (Y/n) has already disappeared.

~~~~

Magnus was able to escape the building, shocked by what he had witnessed. He clutches the gaping wound in his chest, he fears that he won't last very long if this injury is left untreated.

It takes a moment for Magnus to notice the shadow looming over him, once he notices, Magnus slowly looks up in fear. But that fear dies down as soon as he sees who is standing over him.

"(Y/n)?" He spits out a bit of blood while croaking out her name. The look in her eyes is not as hateful as it was before.

(Y/n) looks apologetic, getting down on one knee in front of Magnus to converse with him. “You hurt my friends, Magnus. I cannot forgive you for what you’ve done. Revenge is for pussies." She says in a judgemental tone and takes out a handkerchief from her pocket that she takes on her person most times.

Magnus hisses in pain as she puts pressure on the bleeding wound. "But I… Missed you. And I know I kind of screwed you over too." (Y/n) admits sadly, looking Magnus in the eye. "And I'm going to grant you a second chance." She raises a hand on his cheek to keep his focus on her while she talks. "Don't make me regret it." (Y/n) Then grabs one of his arms to guide it over his shoulders, helping him up, taking him away to get help.

Magnus doesn't fight her and lets her take him away from all this. and like an angel, she grants him another chance at life, simply because she still has a soft spot for him.

~~~~

Magnus doesn’t remember how he got here when he awakens in a hospital bed, all alone. (Y/n) has disappeared, she had simply dropped him off it seems. He takes a moment to think before looking around the room. At the side of the hospital bed is where he finds something out of place. There is a bloody handkerchief and a small note. It reads:

'Contact me when you are ready.' - (Y/n) (L/n)

Followed with a phone number.

___________________________________________I swear to you, I want to write a sort of aftermath that I’m going to write later.Thanks for reading.

- Smilex 

[hlficlibrary]

- HL Fic Library's Enemies to Lovers Fic Rec -

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.

♠️ the school of extraordinary lovers by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci [M, 191k]

harry is a third-year witch and violinist at Laitswold, the only magical academy in the UK, with dreams of taking on the world, and hopefully breaking the centuries-old curse on his family while he's at it. he does not dream of facing off against his childhood rival and duet partner, but louis is back in town after six years abroad, so that's exactly what happens.

♠️ Paint Me In A Million Dreams by green_feelings / @greenfeelings [E, 112k]

Harry's one of Hollywood's biggest actors, has made a name for himself in prestigious films and lives the life of a superstar. There's just one thing missing to make it picture-perfect, but the one Harry's in love with is completely out of reach for him. Enter Louis, one of Hollywood's biggest actors himself, who just came out of the closet and taps new genres in the industry. When Louis sacks the role Harry auditioned for in Scorsese's next big film, their irrational feud starts. Who could have guessed it would get even worse when for promo season, their teams decide to present them as a couple for publicity?

In short, Harry's in love with someone and doesn't care about dating anyone else, Louis never felt home in L.A., Liam writes love songs for someone he shouldn't write love songs to, and Niall makes everything better with good food.

♠️ Flightless Bird by audreyhheart [E, 97k]

AU where Louis Tomlinson is a principal dancer with The Royal Ballet. When his rival from ballet school, moody dance prodigy Harry Styles joins the company, old wounds are reopened and old passions reignited. During the company's production of Swan Lake the secret that doomed their love is finally revealed, but will it be too late?

♠️ An Amazing Race Around the World (And to my Heart) by Thingssicant / @sunflowervolh [E, 89k]

“This year marks our thirtieth race around the world, thirty seasons of teams bound by friendship, family, and even some people who just band together for the chance at the prize. But this year, we want to remove that dynamic,” Phil said, rubbing his hands together gently.

The cameras were whirring around them, trying to get every shocked face and gasp from the teams. Louis could feel a ringing in his ears, a new nervousness he hadn’t felt during the entire journey to this competition.

He was sweating more now, more than he could blame on the California sun, as Phil started to read the names of the new teams, the members hugging their loved ones before joining a complete stranger in their new allotted spot.

Or an Amazing race Hate to Lovers au

♠️ Nothing But You On My Mind by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense [E, 83k]

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

♠️ You Drive Me Round The Bend by TheCellarDoor / @donotdialnine [M, 77k]

In which Louis is a spoilt rich kid who’s always on the phone while he drives and Harry is a struggling musician making his way down the mountain. It’s just a matter of time before they crash and burn.

♠️ Don't Want Shelter by @kingsofeverything [E, 76k]

Louis and Harry have known each other all their lives. Friends as children, they danced around each other as teenagers, and have spent the last twenty-five years either screaming at each other or not speaking at all. Except for that one time ten years ago…

When Hurricane Nicole threatens the coast, they end up stuck together in their families' old vacation home that they begrudgingly co-own.

During the storm, and in the months after, they’re both forced to reevaluate their history and what they mean to each other.

♠️ this charade (was never going to last) by @scrunchyharry [E, 68k]

On the surface, CitizenX, an international caritative nonprofit, looked like any other nonprofit, funding humanitarian missions worldwide and striving to make the world a better place, one donation at a time.

At least, that was what Harry thought, until he was hired as a computer specialist for a spinoff agency called carish, whose true purpose was to reveal CitizenX’s tangled web of lies.

As if the whole ‘industrial spy’ business was not stressful enough, Harry found himself in a hatred-at-first-sight relationship with one of his new coworkers, Louis, a man intent on detesting Harry.

When the worst happened and Harry and Louis found themselves thrown together in hiding, with only each other to rely on, Harry never could have predicted the turn their relationship would take.

Nor could he anticipate that it would all be taken away from him and he would have to decide how far he was willing to go to get Louis back.

♠️ Why Can't It Be Like That by @taggiecb [E, 63k]

Louis Tomlinson, head of his local hospital's charity fund, suddenly finds himself in the heart of the Royal family when his mother marries the third son of the reigning monarch. Such an upset in lifestyle brings a lot of changes for Louis, one of them being the need for a stylist.

Enter Harry Styles, a cutting edge fashion stylist who loves his job and prides himself on his passion. The first time he sees Louis Tomlinson on the cover of a tabloid he wants to dress him, style him, make him as beautiful as Harry knows he could be. When he's hired to do just that, he knows this will be a perfect partnership. That is, until he actually meets the man.

A fashion AU with a royal twist, where Louis doesn't need a stylist, Harry's thrilled to have a real life Barbie doll, and they're both very wrong about each other.

♠️ somethin' bout you by @missandrogyny [E, 59k]

Of all the government agents in the world, Louis had to go and land the most charming one.

♠️ Counterbalance by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf [E, 44k]

Harry Styles loves two things: teaching ballet and racing motorcycles. Those two worlds collide when his greatest rival on the track, Louis “Tommo” Tomlinson brings his tiny siblings to Harry’s class.

♠️ Full Moon Dreaming by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom [E, 43k]

Every month, Full Moon Dreaming reveals a person’s soulmate. Sometimes it’s an object or a place, or for the lucky ones, the love of their life.

Louis has given up hope of dreaming of a person, resigned to living a life devoid of that kind of all-consuming love for another and receiving the same in return.

But when a new neighbour descends on Louis’ beloved Hanson Bay and moves into the other beach house, could all that be about to change?

♠️ make this feel like home by @soldouthaz [E, 43k]

The house on West 28th Street in London is twice the size of Louis', more expensive than the price of all of his house and car payments combined, and is falling apart at the seams.

♠️ The Truth of Hearts by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings [M, 42k]

After rising through the ranks to become one of Hollywood’s most celebrated alpha writers, the world is Harry’s oyster. Louis, another rising star alpha, is Harry’s greatest undoing, in more ways than one.

♠️ Staring Across the Room by @allwaswell16 [E, 26k]

Harry Styles has a great life. He’s a children’s librarian at the New York Public Library, he’s got wonderful friends, and he loves cooking, green tea, yoga, and his collection of bow ties. He doesn’t mind that his life seems a little structured, maybe even a little boring. But when Louis Tomlinson joins the library staff as the new Installation Coordinator, things become a lot less predictable. Louis gets under his skin right from the start, bossing Harry around, making noise during story time, and eating the last cupcake in the staff lounge. Louis may be almost offensively attractive, but Harry will not be succumbing to Louis Tomlinson’s charms, even if the rest of the library staff have.

♠️ Better Walk That (Pap) Walk, Baby by @fallinglikethis, @lululawrence [NR, 25k]

Harry sat and stared at the print in front of his eyes where the names Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles looked to be in neon lights. It made him think back to those early days when all they’d dreamt of was seeing their names lit up on the signs for popular venues. Back then, things had seemed so black and white. Their love had grown as their popularity had, fast and intense and overwhelming. Maybe that was part of the problem. They’d never anticipated having to weave their way through a love so all encompassing at that age, much less at the same time as navigating brand new careers they’d been lucky enough to be a part of.

Harry stared at the papers as if it wasn’t him who had just signed them. He could do this. He could. He could pretend he was still as in love with Louis Tomlinson as he had been all those years ago no problem. He was now an actor in addition to a musician for fuck’s sake, he could make this work.

Or the one where, after years filled with the anger and pain that accompany a bad breakup, Harry and Louis have to try to put it all behind them, at least for the cameras.

♠️ Like Gold by ishiplouis / @pocketsunshineharry [E, 17k]

Harry has been an Adviser for Royal Families since he was 24. From French to Russian families, he has travelled the world and handled difficult situations. That’s, at least, what he believed until a week into his new position as Adviser for his Royal Highness Prince Louis Tomlinson.

Royal AU where Harry is Prince Louis’ Adviser, and Louis is anything but helpful.

♠️ Can't Buy My Love, Can Buy Me Dinner by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13 [G, 9k]

Is it ethical to accept a dinner date for the free food? And will you hate me when I go anyway?

Fact 1: Louis hates Harry Styles. Fact 2: Louis is temporarily living off toast and spaghetti hoops. Fact 3: ...Louis may be semi-accidentally dating his worst enemy.

♠️ What a Difference a Day Makes by phdmama / @phd-mama [M, 3k]

Louis makes a squinched up angry face at the name. Harry. Fucking Harry Styles. They’d been in the same RA group as freshmen and when Louis’d made a perfectly tasteful penis joke, Harry had made… well probably exactly the same face Louis is making now and suggested that Louis was… something. Louis can’t even remember, but he knows that whatever it was that Harry said he was doing, he wasn’t doing it. He loves penises, for crying out loud! They’ve been nemesises? nemesies? ever since.

♠️ Stole My Heart by @haztobegood [NR, 2k]

“Oh my god, Niall.” The door slams shut as Harry rushes into the flat. He’s still panting from his rush to get away from the scene of his crime. “You won’t believe what just happened!”

Niall is sitting on the couch in their tiny living room. He looks up from his laptop. “What happened?”

“The worst thing. I’ll never recover. I just reached into a box of free samples outside that new chicken restaurant. Only it wasn’t free samples. It was a man. Holding a box of chicken nuggets. His chicken nuggets. I stole this man’s food, Niall!”

[mrs-monaghan]

So this is inspired by a reply to one of your asks but what do you think each pairs of BTS will be doing if you lock them up in a room for an hour and left unsupervised.

Hello anon. There is way too many pairs in BTS for me to cover them all. So allow me to only do Jikook duos.

I will start with the duos I as Shaz deem to be the weakest, to strongest.

Okay JK's weakest duo which is also his weakest ship; If you've been around for a while you already know who I'm about to say 😂😂😂

Yoonkook.

(The tiktok on the post Here is how I feel about JK's ships. But I swap tkk for ynkk) So Yoonkook alone. Here i talk more about them after the Suchwita episode. But I will now also bring back the IG photos from the concert

Spot the difference? 🤭🤭🤭🤭 and i will be a nice blogger and not bring up the fact that on day 3 while we were busy watching Suga's concert JK was on tiktok liking videos.

Sorry anon..I crack myself up when I talk about Yoonkook but umm... yeah so. We already know what happens when u put them in a room together. They run out of things to talk about. We saw on Suchwita and we saw on Bon voyage by JK's own admission. When I see Yoonkook fanfic on twitter I get very confused 🤭🤭😂😂 because they don't click. Not really. If asked they will choose other members first. Definitely not eo. Yoonkook content with just them 2, I doubt they'd be very entertaining. Not without buffers may it be human or machine 😂

.

Finding Jimin's weakest duo is actually really hard because like RM said; Jimin is the king of chemistry and put him in a room with anyone and it will be funny and quality entertainment. But I will try.

Vmin.

I'm sorry but these 2 alone, together? Nah... Jimin may be the king of chemistry but even he can't fix the Vmin chemistry anymore. There was a time everything used to flow great between them but in recent years Vmin just ain't it. If u think I'm making this up go back to this live before JK comes in

They kept running out of things to talk about too. Jimin even pretended to leave at one point. They were super awkward to say the least and I feel like they were both grateful for JK's presence. @magicshop-pjm1 likes to go "Vmin is dead" every 2 to 4 business days which is absolutely hilarious 😂😂😂 but I think anyone not in denial can admit while yeah, I'm sure they still care about eo, something somewhere went wonky and they're not the same anymore.

This tweet is a joke and its hilarious 🤣😂😂 but unfortunately i find it accurate. Them 2 alone aint it

Taekook.

This was kinda obvious. Some people would rate this duo lower than Yoonkook but I think that's not fair. If you compare them with an unbiased eye Tkk are stronger than ynkk. First they are closer in age which helps. Meaning they're gonna be closer, too. But put them in a room together and it's not even awkward its nothingness. I'm talking silence. By JK's own admission here it just wasn't working. And we all remember the joint IG live where they ran out of things to talk about and JK would play with Bam instead. Another duo where JK needs a buffer for sure. I mean, sure tkk have been out and about but notice how its always with the Wooga squad? Never just them two?

On the plus side, they look really good. So, I'll give them that. 💚

Minimoni

Again this is so hard because Jimin has very strong duos. But yeah, I will put RM second last because RM as a person (bless him and his dimples) he's not the most entertaining and has to bounce off of someone. Them together, alone won't be boring but I'm not sure it would be that memorable or mind blowing. These are just my personal opinions guys so feel free to disagree or chime in. But yeah. I feel Minimoni is 2nd last for me.

I do find it interesting how comfortable RM is with skinship when it comes to Jimin considering he's not big on that in general (unless its Jin) He's even the one who initiates so he is quite comfortable around Jimin.

Anyway, they're a nice duo with a dynamic that gives you UWUs but they're not the most interesting in my eyes. Sorry Minimonis 🤷🏽‍♀️

Namkook

What's the most recent thing that we know about them? We know they hanged out after JK left Jennie's CK event. And we know before that JK said him and RM hadn't drunk together in years. Years. Not months. Now this dont mean they don't see eo. It just means they don't drink together often. I do find this to be significant however because both men love their liquor. But, they drink with other members just not eo so.... 😬😬 again, not making this up, its as per their own admissions

So Namkook in a room together 🤔 what do we got here guys? Have we ever had this? We had a Namkook live but the only memorable thing for me was them outing the fact that Jikook live together. I am blanking on Namkook which makes me feel confident about the position I've put RM.

Give it up for Jimin's type thou everybody 👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾

Jinmin

I would actually have Jinmin and Jihope as a tie but since I'm choosing I will rate Jinmin lower. But man. These 2 together are the absolute best. They are such a comedic entertaining duo. Them together alone in a room is worth every penny if we were asked to pay for any such footage 😂😂 they are funny and they bounce off of eo so well. Never a dull or awkward moment between Jin and Jimin. Never.

These two are the ones you throw to a team that's drowning. They are the ones u assign to a team for better views. I love them together fr fr. Best duo. Such a good duo. Honestly. Throw JK in there and you are set for life with the best trio ever. Go search for any of their compilations and I dare you to be bored.

And we haven't even began to talk about their visuals

First photo of them that pops up on Google and... as it should. Most beautiful man alive Vs world wide handsome =perfection 💯💯💯

(Off topic BTS main visual was always Jin and then V was added to the visual line then eventually JK. Now dont get me wrong all of them are drop dead gorgeous but is there a reason Jimin isn't part of the visual line?? Anyway...)

Hopekook

Hopekook in a room together alone, I'd say that's solid entertainment right there. They're good together, they're funny. It's Jhope we're talking about. He rivals Jimin on having chemistry with the members so him and JK alone i think that's a solid video right there. No awkwardness or nothing and Bonus skinship for the Hopekookers. Good times, really.

JK is extremely comfortable with Jhope so yeah... they're a good duo. No one is getting bored.

Yoonmin

Okay y'all. We know most Yoonmin supporters are rubbish vermin but don't let that make you forget that Yoonmin are extremely entertaining together. Put these 2 in a room alone together and come on... GOLD!! The Yoonmin Suchwita episode is hands down the funniest for me. I laughed from beginning to the end. Swear to God ✋🏽 that episode and the one with the drunk TXT members are great rewatches for me ngl. Also Jimin is Suga's favourite member so Suga is super comfortable with Jimin in everything. But my favorite part of them is the bickering of course.

They can't ever seem to stop fighting which is just so freaking entertaining. Remember ITS 1 when Jhope told Jimin he was being cocky so Jimin said he was going to look for Suga so that the guy could kill his cockiness? He said going to Suga would bring him back down to earth 😂🤣 Because this is who they are, its what they do. They insult eo and call eo out. So people who get mad at Suga need to watch a good old Yoonmin bickering compilation. They've called each other ugly, fat, stupid, skinny, and a bunch of other stuff some people seem to have forgotten.

Anywaaaaaay. Yoonmin alone together is quality content and that's why Suga is high on this list.

Jinkook

Surely I don't need to explain why this duo is number 2 in terms of JK's most entertaining duos. Right? Like its self explanatory? I've stated many times; imo Jin is JK's favourite/closest after Jimin. Some of u disagree and say Jhope nah, its Jin. Imho.

Tom and Jerry, perfect title for them 2. Love it. Put them in a room together and you're set.

chaotic thread here for those who need a refresher

Jihope aka Hopemin

We don't need to imagine. This duo have been alone together or engaged just them enough to know they are entertaining as shit. Its usually mostly Jhope laughing at Jimin's antics but this usually prompts Jimin into getting funnier with every laugh he gets from Jhope.

Tweet

Much like Jinmin they are the duo you shove into a dying group to give it spice. They are absolutely epic and I feel confident putting Hobi on the number 2 spot of Jimin's most entertaining duos.

They do have awkward moments when they're checking eo out to try and out compliment eo but that's just entertaining as well 😂😂

Last but not least Jikook/Kookmin/Minkook/Mingukk

Now hear me out. This isn't just my bias that made me put this duo at the top. Alright? There is this ongoing unfairness taking place in the fandom where people undermine Jimin and JK's funny n chaotic sides.

Tweet

Together they are hilarious and entertaining and this duo doesn't get enough credit for being as funny as they are.

The reason they are number one is because Jikook alone together is a complete programme. Humor, Check. Chaos, Check. Romance, Check. Sexual tension, Check.

Hate or love this duo, they're a perfect recipe for entertainment.

Would love to hear your thoughts but this is how I'd rate them. Thanks for the ask anon, twas fun 💜

[fromforeigntofamiliarity]

Working Bitch | The Seven

Summary: The reader is a member of 'The Seven', but for how long?Warning: None Request: None

Sitting at the table with the the rest of 'The Seven' you were as bored as ever waiting for Madilyn to show up for a 'important meeting'.

Passing a notepad back over to Noir as you two continued you games of tic-tac-toe, the door to the meeting room slide open revealing the older blonde woman. 

"Good afternoon everyone," She greeted with a cheery smile. "Sorry I'm late."

"Not sorry enough to not do it." Homelander replied with a strained smile. "Can we just get on with... whatever the fuck this is all about." 

"Of course, Homelander." She replied before turning to face you as Noir pushed the notepad back over to you. "Y/N, You are one of our most popular and hard working  supes, unfortunately Vought feels that your efforts would be better served exploring your own endeavors." 

The room was silent for a moment as everyone each took time to evaluate and process the carefully worded statement that had just come out of her mouth.  

"I'm sorry," You said standing from your seat. "Are you firing me?" You asked narrowing your eyes at the human woman. 

"Damn." A-Train commented looking between you Madilyn in anticipation.

"We feel that you have so much more growing to do and don't want to hold you back from doing that." She said once having the common sense  to at least look frightened.

"No your firing me." You corrected walking away from the table and over to the blonde. "I give years of my life to this company to this team and this is what I get." You said stalking closer and closer as you feel your powers begin to scratch at the surface almost begging you to kill the woman. "After everything you think I'm just gonna lay down and take-." Your sentence if cut off as she holds out a piece of paper to you, not just any piece of paper, a check.

"Your severance." She stated pushing the paper towards you more as indication you could take it, which you did.

"Take, take care of yourselves you guys." You finished your sentence turning to face the rest of 'The Seven' the anger that was present on your face now vanished into a bright smile. "I really am going to miss you guys, especially you Noir, our late night chats really got me through it." You said starting to make your way towards the exit. 

"Y/N" Madilyn called. 

"Hey Maddy who do I talk to about getting this tracking chip removed?" You asked cutting off whatever she was about to say. "Now you guys remember 'We're a team at the start, but a family in my heart' I'll miss you guys. Maeve, never change. A-Train, maybe change a little. Deep, Translucent, suck a dick and die you predatory assholes." 

"Who approved this?" Homelander asked standing from his chair now. "I'm not okay with this." 

"I am" You sung out shaking your check as the sliding door parted.  

"Y/N is not leaving 'The Seven'." Madilyn called out causing you to stop in your tracks.

"I'm not?" You asked holding your check to your chest protectively as though someone was going to take it. 

"No you're not, yet." She replied. "Not for another three months. Vought would like you to officially announce you voluntary departure from "The Seven' as well as your goal of making sure that your team is well taken care of after your departure by assisting in the hunt to find the next member."

"Passing the torch" you realized walking farther into the room.  

"Exactly." Madilyn nodded. "Of course along with public appearances, farewell tour, interviews all that come with their own paycheck." 

"So sit back down?" You asked shoulders sagging as you made your way back to your spot next to Noir. "What a relief, I was worried I wasn't going to have time to properly convey my well wishes to you guys."

"Are you kidding me!" Homelander groaned. "Y/N and Noir are the only two I can trust to do anything, you're putting Noir in a tuff place here taking up the work of four other people plus a newbie."

"I'm sure the others are plenty capable of doing their jobs." Madilyn replied with a slight eye roll. "Now on to other business..." She continued as you tuned out the conversation.

Noir passed the notepad over to you with a new game of tic-tac-toe started with an 'X' in the middle of the board with a note written at the bottom, 'How much?'

Placing a 'O' in the upper right corner you passed the note back along with the check and a note that said. 'Enough.'

Looking down at the check and back up to you Noir gave you a thumbs up.

[liyawritesss]

ᖴᒪOᗯEᖇᔕ Iᑎ ᗷᒪOOᗰ - ᐯᗩᒪEᑎTIᑎEᔕ ᗪᖇᗩᗷᗷᒪEᔕ

Ｄａｙ ２３ － Ｑｕａｌｉｔｙ Ｔｉｍｅ

－ A King's Wish - T'Challa Udaku - Marvel's Black Panther

－ In which during a tumultuous time during T'Challa's duties with the Avengers in America, he pays a visit to a certain someone ro calm his mind.

－ Check out more prompts and other activities on the Flowers In Bloom Event Masterlist!

A King should never get too comfortable in his position - and if he is, then he shouldn’t be king. It was one of the many morals instilled upon T’Challa as crowned prince to the Wakandan throne. He knows he’s got a lot to risk for himself, for his people, and unfortunately he doesn’t have the ability to allow himself to get too comfortable. Though, just because he’s King of arguably the most powerful nation on earth, doesn’t mean he’s absolved from having guilty pleasures.

And it just so happens that he’s on his way to visit said guilty pleasure right now.

He has to keep a low profile, though. More than raised eyebrows would occur if people saw a member of the Wakandan royal family casually strolling into a college campus, accompanied by brightly colored warrior women trained to kill. So he dawns much more casual, American clothing, and so do the two members of the KingsGuard accompanying him, because of course, he couldn’t come completely alone.

With so much happening the past few months, all T’Challa truly wants is to be in your arms. To remember how they feel around him, to cement your kisses into his skin so that they never disappear again. It’s wishful thinking, he knows it is; there’s only so much time the two of you will have together, but he doesn’t like to think about that. Instead, he chooses to relish in the present, and perhaps, speak on what future instances would look like.

He remembers the day the two of you first met. Being introduced to each other by his friend who taught the graduate level african history class you were enrolled in, the professor relayed your expressed interest in Wakanda and the desire to study the history of the nation on a deeper level. While he could not grant you access inside the tightly secured country for reasons, T’Challa was more than willing to oblige in your questions to assist in your research. Little did he know that the mere prospect of assisting you in your extended project would lead to something much more deeper.

It was a breath of fresh air for the royal, a change of pace from his constant need to save face. You didn’t treat him like a King - which, granted, he had to get used to - but rather an average scholar you were bouncing ideas off of. While most of his life he has been molded to be a pillar of sovereignty, with you, T’Challa was able to have some semblance of normalcy in his life. Something he didn’t know he craved so carnally until he met you.

He sighs as his fist raps at your door, his body already buzzing with excitement at the idea of seeing you again after a long time being apart. You open it, and T’Challa’s lips immediately crack into a smile.

“Now, I remember telling you to let me know when you’re coming by,” you say in a voice akin to disbelief, standing in the doorway of your apartment that resides close to campus, “y’know, instead of knocking on my door like you’re the police or somethin’?”

“Can you blame me?” T’Challa retorts, “I was in a rush.”

Well, there’s little you can do about the King who seemingly lost his manners, besides welcome him into your home - and your heart - for the night.

[unhingedkinfessions]

(TQ USER IM NOT YELLING I JUST TYPE LIKR THIS I FORGOR I HAVE TO PUT A DISCLAIMER EVER TIME OR WHATEVER) HAI !! FIRST TIME SENDING AN ASK HERE LMAO. SO I TELL EVERYONE ABOUT THIS KINNIE DISCORD SERVER DRAMA I HAD SO I MIGHT AS WELL SUBMIT IT HERE.

SO IM A VRISKA SERKET KINNIE, UNFORTUNATELY. BUT BACK IN 2022, I BELIEVED I WAS DIRK STRIDER, DUE TO SHITTY IDENTITY ISSUES AND PROBABLY OTHER THINGS. I HAD RECENTLY GOTTEN MY KINNIE BOYFRIEND (NOW EX) INTO HOMESTUCK, AT THE TIME. WE’LL CALL HIM SODA. SO SODA HAD MET THIS GIRL ON TIKTOK, GOING BY THE NAME TRANSFEM TEREZI. SHE HAD A BUNCH OF FOLLOWERS AND WAS GENERALLY WELL KNOWN ON HOMESTUCK TIKTOK. SO THEY BECAME BESTIES, AND I THOUGHT SHE WAS NEAT SO I STARTED TALKING TO HER ON DISCORD. WE BECAME BESTIES AS WELL !!

SO WE ALL KINNED FROM HOMESTUCK, THEREFORE WE DECIDED TO MAKE A HOMESTUCK KINNIE SERVER. AFTER A FEW DAYS IT WAS DONE, AND TEREZI INVITED ALL OF HER FOLLOWERS. ALL OF US BEING DUMB AND HAVING NO MODERATION EXPERIENCE, WE MODDED RANDOM PEOPLE, WHICH WILL BE IMPORTANT L8TER.

THE SERVER WAS PRETTY ACTIVE AND EVERYONE WAS HAVING FUN. FOR LIKE 5 DAYS. ONE DAY, I WAS AT THE BEACH WITH MY FAMILY AND MY PHONE WAS IN THE CAR. ONCE WE WERE DONE, I CAME BACK TO CHECK IT. AND THERE IT WAS, 100+ NOTIFS. I WAS CONFUSED AND WENT ON DISCORD, ONLY TO SEE THE HORRORS:

TONS OF DMS FROM 6 DIFFERENT PEOPLE, 3 DIFFERENT NEW GROUP CHATS, 5 PEOPLE ASKING ME WHAT HAPPENED, AND SOME PEOPLE TELLING ME TO DIE. I WAS SO DAMN CONFUSED, SO I LOOKED TO SEE WHAT WAS GOING ON AND ASKED ABOUT IT.

APPARENTLY, A GUY NAMED BEEF NUTS JOINED THE SERVER AND STARTED SPAMMING SLURS AND SCAT JOKES, AMONG OTHER THINGS. REASONABLY, ONE OF THE MODS BANNED HIM. THIS TURNED OUT TO BE A HORRIBLE IDEA, AS ONCE HE WAS BANNED, THE OTHER MODS AND SOME MEMBERS GOT PISSED AND STARTED SPAMMING “JUSTICE FOR BEEF NUTS,” WHICH HAD CAUSED TEREZI TO JUST GET STRESSED AND FUCKING LEAVE THE SERVER WHILE IT ALL WENT DOWN??

SOON ENOUGH, THE SERVER WAS IN SHAMBLES. EVERYONE WAS CONFUSED AND THE OWNER HAD LEFT, PLUS CHANNELS WERE CLOGGED. EVENTUALLY, WE DID DAMAGE CONTROL, AND FIXED IT UP.

AFTER THAT, EVERYONE WAS FUCKIN PISSED AT TEREZI. WE DUG UP A BUNCH OF STUFF ABOUT HER AND JUST DECIDED TO H8 HER. WE CALLED HER ABLEIST AND RACIST AND TRANSPHOBIC, AND WENT TO HUNT HER DOWN AND HARASS HER, BECAUSE DUMB CHILDREN.

AFTER SHIT GOT REAAAL BAD, SHE DECIDED TO RESPOND TO THE ALLEGATIONS. HER RESPONSE WAS BASICALLY “IM A SYSTEM NOT A KINNIE NOW ACTUALLY. ONE OF MY ALTERS IS JUST AN ASSHOLE” AND EVERYONE BELIEVED HER I GUESS BECAUSE PPL STOPPED TALKING ABOUT IT.

MORE HAPPENED L8TER BUT IM SAVING THAT FOR ANOTHER ASK. REMEMBER ME AS VRISKA ANON. BAI :333

ok thats cool and all but all i asked is if you wanted fries with that not so happy meal. a bit weird that you're admitting to harassing some random maybe-system who got overwhelmed and prolly didnt deserve to get hated on like its such a funny story. from what youve said here in this drivethrough with the broken sign and cracked pavement it sounds like you guys were weird and in the wrong. "dumb children" 2022 was last year own up motherfucker

have a bit of shame and compassion in your heart girl we aint your friends. but what do i know im just a humble worker here at uhkfdonalds or some shit