#EVERY DAY I AM CONFRONTED WITH MY OWN TYPOS
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hate to admit the fact that ingredients made me cry, but i'm blaming everything on jeff so it's fine. if he cries i cry. that's just how the laws of physics work (or whatever. i'm a humanities major. don't ask me sciency stuff)
#also you lot were right and the ending is actually fairly happy??#i was expecting it to be more bittersweet still#baz and i got distracted halfway with looking at jeff pictures but sfjdbdhdk we finished it#it was good!#only because jeff is in it though#otherwise i wouldn't have cared one bit i'm not gonna lie#ingredients the series#i'm only tagging it for spoiler reasons just in case#tea's ramblings#EVERY TIME I TYPE 'TEA'S' NOW THE FIRST THINK THAT SHOWS UP IS#love on saturn tea's brain#EVERY DAY I AM CONFRONTED WITH MY OWN TYPOS#THING* GODDAMNIT TYPOS AGAIN#i give up#this is my official 'i have finally watched ingredients' update for tumblr btw
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"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | Part IX (FULL)
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader
enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+
CHAPTER IX WARNINGS/NOTES: t.w.'s - language, innuendo / sexual undertones, mention of dr*gs and abuse and childhood trauma, Max in a coma, talks about death, difficult confrontations. 18+
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the 9th chapter, written in full. Not action packed, but vital to the plot. Lots of beautiful moments in here that I really took my time with writing because at this point, I am just so in love with this concept. We learn more about Bauman's past. Steve and Jonathan finally have that talk. Murray is a proud uncle. The kids are adorable. Steve's dream isn't only his. And everyone prepares for doomsday.
Bonus: If you love the song "This Little Life," well then you are in for a treat. It heavily inspired this chapter, and it will be back...
PROOFREAD UNTIL MY EYES BLED.
IF THERE ARE STILL TYPOS, SORRY BOUT IT. 18+
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Steve Harrington was no stranger to nightmares.
He’d learned how to endure them. Over the years, he made friends with his demons. So much so, it got to a point where he got too used to having them around. He just nodded at them as they lurked in the darkest corners of his sunshine mind, letting them exist as lonely, miserable wallflowers who were never noticed in the daylight when he was awake…waiting for their fleeting moment of popularity after dark, when his eyes were shut. He didn’t address them when he was awake. Because if he addressed them, that would mean they were real. But if he let them have their way at night, forgetting them the next day and acting like they did not exist, that meant they had no power over him. They didn’t mean anything. They were nothing.
They meant nothing.
At least, that’s what Steve told himself.
Every night before shutting his eyes, he steels himself for whatever hell he was going to face. From the ripe age of four, he learned to simply expect the unexpected when it came to sleeping. Sleep was never going to be his friend — whether he was sleeping alone, or with a friend, or holding naked girl in his arms. Steve was made to suffer in his sleep. His subconscious was a world that was built upon a foundation ruled by the reality of absent parents, being an only child, high school flings that left him longing and the endless search for love. It consisted of repeated dialogues — sometimes the incessant arguing between his parents, or the jabbering of Tommy H. and Carol, or hearing Nancy chanting bullshit, along with all the other voices of people who filtered in and out of his life. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.
Sometimes, Steve was running away from his own voice in his head. There were nights when, within his own nightmares, he himself was the nightmare. That really came into effect during his last year of high school and the summer after he lost Nancy. Adding the entire element of the upside down into his life only fed his nightmares. They were bad before, they were bad then, and they were worse now.
Trauma after trauma, loss after loss, fight after fight, bloodshed upon bloodshed.
Every punch to his eye. Every word slapped across his face. Every other worldly creature he was made to battle. Every moment he was paralyzed with fear of losing one of his kids.
Nightmares loved Steve. And they knew exactly where to find him, every single night.
But right now, sleeping next to you, it wasn’t nighttime. It was still day. Daylight shown through the windows of your assigned guest room in the Harrington house — curtains drawn, and the gloomy afternoon sky filtering the space around you both.
And here he was, fast asleep with his cheek resting on top of your chest, as your heartbeat thumped against his ear. One of his toned arms was looped around your waist, having closed his eyes and letting the steady rise and fall of your chest lull him to sleep. Steve had been fighting sleep for the last two nights. Especially the night after you died in his arms. He had just barely brought you back to life, and he knew that as bad as his nightmares had been before…all of them amounted to nothing compared to the nightmares that would undoubtedly follow him after that. Steve wanted nothing to do with sleep. He was damned for all eternity when it came to sleep, and it was sure to bring him a life of insomnia after the real life nightmare that he was made to face when wide awake.
That’s the beauty of being asleep: you have to wake up.
Steve told himself that every night before he went to bed. He told himself that no matter how bad it got, he would still wake up. And once he woke up, it would be over.
He learned to do that after he went to the county fair one year with his friends, back in middle school. He’d gotten on a ride, peer pressured by Tommy H. and not wanting to look like a chicken.
Every second of the ride, Steve was petrified.
He wanted off, he wanted off, goddammit let me off he shouted.
Then he remembered having been told by the county fair worker that the ride lasted four minutes. Steve took a deep breath, realizing he’d likely been on it for already half that time. So he counted to himself. Counting down the last half of the ride, he told himself over and over: eventually, this ride has an end.
Sure enough, when it did finally come to an end — and when everyone was let off the hellish escapade — Steve realized that he had found the glitch in the matrix. The warp in time. The secret superpower to conquering fear. Suddenly, he wasn’t so afraid anymore. Which is why now, whatever nightmare he was made to face, he would endure it — knowing that the sweet relief of waking up was just right around the corner.
And after all: stranger things had been proven real in Steve’s real life, far more than in his wildest dreams.
Loving you had turned out to be the strangest thing of all.
Even more so, the lack of nightmares that came with that was also strange…
Because right now, as Steve finally succumbed to sleep instead of fighting it, lying next to you…he was not trapped in a nightmare. His subconscious did not have him roaming the unpredictable pathways that led to the darkest corners of his mind. His demons had ceased their dance. Vecna, and all his other worldly monsters, were not the stars of this particular show. Steve was not trapped in the midst of jabbering chants coming from the voices of all the people that he loved, all the people who had betrayed him, or even the voice belonging to himself.
For the first time in years, Steve Harrington was dreaming.
It wasn’t anything drastic. Nothing that could exhaust him, to where any hours of sleep hadn’t felt like any sort of sleep at all. In fact, his subconscious state was…serene. Quiet, peaceful. It was almost unsettling in a way.
Little bursts of yellow — pastel and sunshine and lemon — colored the dark walls inside his mind. A light breeze gently wooshed in the distance, coming seemingly from nowhere but still fanning his face and the flop of his perfect hair. Somewhere, someone was humming. Almost like a bird, or the sound of a foghorn super far off in the distance. Maybe even the distant drums of a far away land. The rhythm came and went, but it kept him company. As if it were some little song made up in his head as he went along, saying, “Hey, I’m right here. We are in this together.”
On the other side of Steve’s closed eyelids, you laid beneath him in his yellow crewneck. The air you breathed softly, in and out of your nose, fanned across his forehead and his perfect hair. And while your heartbeat was not even, it was there — beneath his ear, drumming in a makeshift pattern, inventing its own rhythm as it went.
In the real world, your uneven heartbeat reminded you both that you yourself were not in the clear. Not yet.
But currently, in this new world that Steve’s subconscious had just discovered, it reminded him that he was no longer alone. Not with you.
In the real world, Hawkins is in trouble. Cursed.
And while none of you had figured out how to break that curse just yet, along with Vecna’s…one curse had been broken.
You’d broken the curse to Steve’s endless nightmares.
But would this world even allow for you both to explore a future together, in which you had broken this dark spell cast over Steve Harrington’s life…?
***
Seeing Nancy shuffling out of Argyle’s room is the last thing Jonathan ever could have expected. And he’d seen a lot of shit that prepared him for the unexpected.
The perplexed look in her eyes. The determination in her step to get the hell out of there, despite clearly having been given some sort of useful information after sharing God-knows-what conversation with his Cali best friend.
The two lovers at war made eye contact. It was quick, fleeting. But tense.
Eddie and Robin watched as Jonathan turned to stare at Nancy over his shoulder, and how she froze for a moment to stare back at him through her glassy, wide blue eyes. Her gaze, fixed on him, went from longing to hardened. Nancy walked away, and Jonathan letting her without a word only motivated her to keep walking.
And now, Jonathan had been in Argyle’s room for a good long while. Eddie and Robin had left behind their own little comforting conference of sorts to join the adults downstairs, while the kids had set off in other directions of the Harrington house.
But before that, during all the upstairs drama, Joyce and Murray had been having some drama of their own in the basement.
“You did what?!”
By now, Murray had recounted every single part of his story and how he’d played a huge role — along with you — in how her son had ended up with Nancy Wheeler. Murray’s once upon a time had rendered her speechless.
Even Hopper — who’d heard them go downstairs and immediately followed when he heard Joyce start rocking the boat as she pressed Murray for information — now stood there beside Joyce, having just listened to everything – stunned.
Because when in the world did you all have time to fall in love, fall out of love then fall back in love / new love like this? How the fuck were you all managing that on top of the upside down mayhem?
“May I remind you both how you two lovebirds have spent the last few years developing your own slowburn of a story arc?”
Murray’s question was dripping in condescension. But it was valid. It also came from the heart. He loved these two humans to death. And they loved him back.
While Joyce felt an enormous amount of joy that her son had ended up with the girl he loved…her heart ached for Steve. She’d grown to love him like her own over the years, especially these last several months as she lived under his roof. She had no idea just how broken up he’d been about Nancy. Joyce couldn’t help but feel…almost guilty.
But Hopper was shaking his head with a sort of proud grin, noting how as much as Murray had been the one to rock the boat — you had been its captain at the wheel. He pointed out how you had steered that wheel without even trying.
“Were they even friends in high school?” Hopper asked curiously. “Harrington and Bauman — I can’t see your niece even having time for him back then when he was a punk.”
Murray went on to proudly confirm that assessment, along with explaining how you’d simply participated in your Uncle Murray’s meddling because you happened to be there that night and it’s just a sort of family tradition that you both had formed over the years. And when Joyce asked him how someone like you had not been swept up already by some guy, Murray had scoffed. He looked bitter — in the way that a protective parent is on behalf of their own kid.
“My niece deserves the world. Not one stupid guy at that high school could give her a mere city, let alone a globe’s worth. Doesn’t mean she didn’t…try. I know she was into one guy for a good while at one point. Some friend she’d made with one of the athletes who shared A.P. classes with her. She helped him study. Something she never did, unless it was with the girls and guys from her class that had weekly study group nights. But this kid she liked…he was smart, and he liked her back. She more than liked him…and he let her. Then, as all the petty high school boys do, he ditched her and all her efforts and hours spent studying and helping him pass his classes with flying colors…for a bimbo. A blonde, hip shaking, Pom-pom waving babydoll who’s all body, no brains.”
Joyce frowned. “Bauman is beautiful. She’s body, beauty and brains.”
“Yeah well,” Hopper mumbled, shaking his head disdainfully. “In high school, if you’ve got a dick, we’re letting it do the talking for us.”
“Point is,” Murray continued. “It hurt her. Big time. But that’s the thing about my niece. Given our Bauman blood, we don’t easily succumb to our sentimental feelings. We just let it broaden our dark comedic chops and cynical worldview. My niece doesn’t have mommy or daddy to run home to and cry. She’s an only child, so no siblings to help care for and bond with. Yeah, she’s got friends. But mainly at school. She’s got herself…and she’s got me.” Murray smiled at that. “Between me and her grandmother, we’ve been the ones that raise her. But to be perfectly honest, my niece pretty much raised herself.”
Hopper’s heart clenched. For both you and your uncle.
“She’s great, Mur,” Hopper murmured. “You’ve been there for her and it shows.”
Murray was quiet at that. He hated compliments. But he didn’t flinch or get snippy. He actually looked humbled, silently appreciating this observation.
Joyce sighed. “Murray…you really have been an incredible uncle to her. I know that I’ve…given you a hard time about things, but…really. You’ve never missed with her.”
Murray was still quiet. He looked everywhere but at his two best friends for several beats. Finally, he gave a curt nod. But it was grateful, and full of love. Mainly for you.
“That’s my kid.”
Murray’s voice cracked a bit. It was the most unusual sound in the barren basement of the Harrington house, bouncing off the walls despite its soft decimal in volume. The tight lipped grin on his face as he finally made eye contact with Joyce and Hopper said it all. He loved the shit outta you, like any good parent loves their kid.
“I didn’t get the white picket fence life. Or a lifelong love story with some gal. I got dealt a crazy family of addicts and narcissists and loons. Had a brother who married a gal from rehab, got her pregnant while they relapsed and went forward with having a kid that didn’t stand a damn chance at surviving it.”
Murray pursed his lips before he continued. “That’s the first goddamn miracle I’ve ever witnessed. That little fetus somehow made it, all of 5 pounds at 9 ounces. Ready to get the fuck out of the womb and live. It made for an early arrival and the risk of being premature, on top of being a crack baby.”
Murray’s eyes shone with a certain kind of fondness. It held both sadness and joy. And his voice was the gentlest it had ever been as he spoke about you.
“She didn’t have one thing wrong with her. Not one thing. Perfect lungs. Perfect heart. Perfect brain activity. Not cursed from the drugs that coursed through her mother’s veins and doomed her life from the start. That kid’s been outsmarting everyone in her life since she was a seed.”
Joyce and Hopper couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Their eyes shone with Murray’s, having been parents themselves and unable to fathom being so reckless when bringing life into this world.
“I didn’t get my own kid,” Murray continued. He looked at Hopper. “I didn’t get a Sarah.” Then to Joyce, “Or a Jonathan, or Will. A kid who’s my own flesh and blood that I’d fight for to the bitter end.”
Murray stood there, resolute in what he was getting at. “But I got her. I got a niece who loves me. After she was born, I got my dad’s mom to take her in while I traveled and worked. She’s the only family member I’ve bothered keeping in touch with. She’s an odd one. But she had a home and money and willingness to take in a stray. She never thought she’d ever get a granddaughter. Don’t even think she really wanted one much till she was handed one to take in. Between the two of us, we raised her. She got thrown at whoever would take her and that was fine with me. Meant she still had a damn shot at a life. That’s what we gave her. The rest? She’s done herself.”
Murray sniffed. Then, smirking at himself —
“I’d like to think my being an unorthodox parental figure of sorts is why she’s built for the war.”
Hopper grinned at that, swallowing back tears of his own. He squeezed Murray’s shoulder. “Yeah, she is. Kid could survive the damn streets of New York on her own.”
Murray laughed at that, and so did Joyce — she finally shook her head and wiped away a couple motherly tears. She took a deep breath, looking up and shifting gears with the topic.
“You know,” she started. “Call me a hopeless romantic… But I’m pretty sure that Steve Harrington has hopelessly fallen for your niece.”
Hopper snorted. “God, I haven’t ever liked the idea of two youngins together the way I like them.”
Murray grinned big. “Yeah that’s a plot twist even I wasn’t expecting.”
The cynical gent’s expression suddenly went from warm to grave. “…don’t ever repeat that.”
The adults all shared a heart laugh at that, making their own comments on how the two mortal enemies turned out to be lovers. Hopper cringed at the word, along with Murray — and Joyce gave your uncle hell for that, given he’s the self-acclaimed mastermind at love.
“My witch doctor hours are limited when it comes to my niece’s love life,” he argued, but it was all with humor and fondness. “I already orchestrated the basics.”
“Which were…?”
“Calling her out.”
Joyce smiled. “What do you think of them?”
Murray’s expression softened. He contemplated that for several sincere moments.
“Surprises me to say it…but I think she’s got someone who loves her fully. Will love her fully. There’s actual years there, backing them up. Years of real life shit. Abnormal shit. Valid tension, deeply rooted hatred that turned out to be love. She saw Harrington for who he was, and sees him for who he is. I mean — Jesus, she was there for all of it. Steve Harrington’s redemption arc was witnessed by her just as much as those kids that he’s taken on as a babysitter. Well, and the Robin girl. But that’s…not the same thing as what he’s got with my niece. No threat there.”
Hopper’s eyes narrowed at that, curious. But Joyce gave Murray an all-knowing grin, knowing what he was getting at.
“I don’t think she’s on the same field,” she winked.
Murray winked back. “Exactly.”
Hopper blinked. “…alright, you guys lost me.”
Joyce waved him off, continuing. “So you like him with her. Maybe even…approve?”
Murray slowly nodded. “Didn’t think there’d be a guy who stood a chance at that. But given the whole…letting us all stay here and saving her life thing…yeah. I’d say I’m very good with those two being together.”
Joyce nudged him with her elbow. “Maybe you should tell him that. Y’know…given you’re at fault for ‘ruining his life,’ too.”
Murray rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, those two never stood a chance with your broody son standing in the way of that.”
“Yeah well…that broody son of mine isn’t making much sense right now,” Joyce shook her head. She sighed, worried. Hopper stroked her back. “I need to talk to him.”
“Lover’s quarrel,” Murray pointed out. “Best let that be up to him and Wheeler.”
“Yeahhh, well,” Hopper sighed. “Emotions are high right now. Maybe a little adult intervention would be good for them.”
Murray patted them both on the shoulders, back to his usual self. “WELP! You two have a large time with that. Meanwhile, I’ve got a date with a second drink calling my name.”
***
You watched Steve sleep on top of your chest, thinking about the words he’d spoken to you before dozing off.
“What about France? Or Switzerland, somewhere with a bunch of acres and nature and a lake nearby or something?”
You’d smiled at Steve’s question. “How would we get the Winnebago over there?”
He’d stared at you for a moment, eyes sparkling as your words landed. A deep grin formed on his face.
“You really liked my little dream on wheels, huh?”
You grinned back. “Yeah. It’s not little. It’s big.”
He shrugged sweetly. “I mean, it’s not a mansion. Or a house. It’s a home on wheels. Honestly, a really small home on wheels, but…I dunno, I just — wanna travel. With my family. Not leave them behind at some big house while I go off and explore god knows where without ‘em.”
You played with his fingers, listening to his every word. He wasn’t used to this. Having someone who was happy to just…listen to him ramble. Was he even one to ramble at all? Or is that something you just brought out in him?
“I just dream of this…this little life of sorts,” he continued, speaking to you and also to himself.
You smiled at his words. “I think I like this little life.”
Steve could sing at your response. Something about that one sentence after he’d just further divulged into what a bright future looked like in his mind made him feel on top of the world. The lovesick joy in his eyes, and in his heart, made you melt.
“I only want that little life with you,” he whispered to you, cupping your neck as he bent down to press his forehead to yours. You loved when he did that. Too much, way too much.
You nuzzled your nose to his. Steve loved when you did that. Too much, way too much.
“And the nuggets,” you whispered back with the cutest grin. Then, daring to say it — “Our nuggets…”
Steve’s heart soared at that. Ours…
The happy little laugh Steve breathed against you was the prettiest sound in the entire fucking universe. He caught your lips in a kiss, sweet and soft and firm.
“Your heart needs to get its shit together,” he breathed before kissing you again.
“I know, I know,” you breathed back with that playful attitude he had come to love, gliding your lips against his. “Such a pain in the ass. I know you wanna rail me, Harrington.”
He deepened the kissing, his fingers sliding up from your neck into your hair. “Yeah, god forbid I actually just want you to be okay. I only wanna fuck you senseless.”
You sighed into his mouth, clutching his hips with one of your hands and a fistful of his shirt with the other. “Yeah, you dirty, filthy asshole…”
He sucked on your tongue, cutting you off. “Be nice, princess.”
The two of you had eventually pulled back, knowing that you needed to wait on Dr. Owen’s to bring you whatever goddamn medicine was supposed to help even out your heart arrhythmia. Steve had moved in your arms to rest his head over your heart, cheek pressed to your chest with your heartbeat in his eardrum. You could feel him shaking. So, you made up a little tune as you felt fatigue taking over you.
“I think I like this little life…
This little life…
I think I like this little life…
This silly little life.”
You could tell it made Steve smile as he held you closer. He murmured something sweet to you about liking the improvised melody, to which you murmured something back about it becoming a hit one day. Steve let your soft spoken singing play in his mind, giving him the sweetest of dreams as your voice trailed off.
And now, you were awake — humming it again. Steve was still fast asleep on your chest, which brought you tremendous relief. You dared to think it might be the only medicine your heart really needed.
There was a soft knock at the door. You craned your neck towards the source of the sound, curious. Steve didn’t move a bit. He was out. It made you grin. You sighed lightly, planting a soft kiss on top of Steve’s perfect hair. Slowly, gently — you found a way of standing up without waking him. Little did you know, the sleep he found in your arms couldn’t be bothered easily. He slept harder with you than he ever had in his life.
You padded over quietly to the door, opening it slowly and only enough to show you. Your uneven heart was flooded with warmth as you stared back at 5 familiar faces.
Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will and Eleven all stood there. They held random things. Board games, snacks, and pillows with blankets.
“We are inviting ourselves for a sleepover,” El said.
“A very unexciting one,” Lucas clarified.
“Yes, no excitement,” Dustin agreed.
“Just some good ole fashioned card games that don’t hit pique anxiety,” Mike added.
“Annnnd drawing,” Will threw in, lifting his bag. “Art is always therapeutic. Good for the soul. And the heart.”
You felt yourself getting teared up, looking at their faces with pure love and joy. You chuckled wetly, your chest clenching as you so sorely wished that the sixth nugget was awake to add her sarcasm and unwavering love to the mix.
“Plus it really sucks about the mandate coming soon,” Lucas added sadly.
“Yeah,” Mike nodded. “Before we know it, we’ll all be cramped downstairs in the basement or out there in the middle of nowhere.”
You gave them a sad smile.
“A not-exciting sleepover sounds like a grand plan,” you nodded with a wink. Then, cocking an eyebrow, “So I’m hosting then, huh?”
“Yeah, your room’s bigger than ours,” Dustin said.
“True,” you winked. “Orrrr, we could go over to Max’s room and have her join us?”
All of them nodded excitedly. You smiled, turning back to look at Steve sleeping peacefully in the bed.
“Gimme a few minutes to wake up mom and tell him that Max needs some attending to first, so that we can successfully host a sleepover in her room.”
They all quietly cheered, carefully moving to set down their array of stuff inside of your room. They caught sight of Steve sleeping, snickering to themselves like they were all 8 years old again. You shook your head at them with the biggest grin on your face, adoring how Lucas and Dustin were just so tickled with Steve being in your room. Will and El were giggling into their palms, with Mike shushing them but snorting himself. That made everyone fight back even worse laughter, and you ushered them out quickly before closing the door behind you. Man, you loved these kids so much.
You went into the bathroom, freshening up a bit and turning on the shower to let some hot steam hit your aching shoulder for a bit.
he sound of Steve murmuring your name made you hold off on that.
You walked out, beaming at him as he stared in your direction while sitting up. You were back in his arms in seconds, mumbling into his neck.
“Hey, sleepyhead.”
“Jesus, how long was I out?”
“A good chunk of hours.”
Steve groaned, pulling you impossibly closer to him — still mindful of your bad shoulder. You giggled in his grasp. His ears perked up, craning his head up towards the bathroom door as he heard the stream of water running.
“How dare you think of showering without me?” he scoffs incredulously in your arms.
You continued giggling harder as Steve nuzzled his face into your neck, pretending to attack you as he smothered you with groggy affection.
“Just needed to relieve my handicap a bit,” you sighed contentedly.
With that, Steve rose to stand. He was scooping you up into his arms before you could blink, carrying you into the bathroom. He lifted your shirt off, then his. As you stripped your pants, be took the hair tie from your wrist and ran his fingers through your locks, tying it up with ease. With a kiss pressed to your neck, he took your hand and escorted you into the hot stream of water. You watched Steve wistfully as he shed his pants and joined you.
As Steve gingerly massaged the soap into your shoulder blade, you remembered you needed to tell him about the plans that had been made for you both that evening.
“Baby?”
He hummed in response, loving when you called him that.
“The kids have the evening cut out for us tonight,” you started.
Even with your back to him, you knew his eyebrows were raised. “Oh yeah? What, am I making some crazy dinner feast out of canned goods now?”
You sniffed a laugh, turning to kiss his jaw. “No, we’re on for a sleepover in Max’s room.”
“S’that so?” he mulled, a grin in his voice.
“‘Tis so. That, or in here. But I don’t know if we can move her. Plus, I really want her to hear us all talking as much as possible.”
He exhaled, a kiss pressed to your shoulder. “Alright well, I’ll need to go ahead and get her taken care of before we all take over the room.”
“Sounds good,” you sighed contentedly.
You both finished up, and as you got changed into fresh comfy clothes Steve was eyeing the pile of stuff that the kids had unloaded into your bedroom.
“Damn, they just decided to dump the haul here?” he asked.
You snorted. “Yeahhh, they like to make themselves at home here.”
Steve rolled his eyes, but the fondness behind them said it all. He loved it.
Noticing you struggle with your shirt, he quickly moved to help you pull it over your bad shoulder carefully.
“Need to get better at asking for help, angel,” he winked at you, pulling your arm carefully through the sleeve.
You blushed at that, playfully rolling your eyes. “Noted.”
Steve shook his head as he made sure that your shirt was straight, lost in thought for a moment. “Guess we all won’t be able to hang out up here soon,” he murmured. “Outside of the basement.”
Your heart sank, knowing he was referring to the impending doom that loomed around the corner with the whole mandate going into effect next week. “Yeah,” you mused. “Might as well make the most of tonight with them before we have to go back to doomsday mode.”
He nodded sadly, planting a kiss to your hair before grabbing your discarded clothes along with his to start a fresh load of laundry.
“I’m gonna go start a load,” he said. “Check with Hopper on when Dr. Owen’s is getting back here with your meds.”
You sighed. “Yeah, those…”
Steve looked at you solemnly. “Hey.”
You gnawed at your lip, looking up at him.
“You will be okay,” he told you. His tone was firm yet soft. Confident, despite the worried undertone laced around his voice.
You gave him a light smile and nod.
“I’m serious, Bauman,” Steve continued, his brown eyes boring into yours. “We’re getting you on these meds and if they don’t work, then we…do the next thing that does.”
You knew he was stressed. Too stressed. You hated seeing just how fearful he’d been when he lost you before, and how much the fear of losing you again was eating away at him. Of course, Steve being Steve, he now insisted it would be fine. He’d broken down in front of you when it all happened, unable to stop it. Normally, he’d never let that happen. But given the dark reality of things, and just how much everything else had caught up to him, he wasn’t able to be his usual positive, nonchalant self with you over the last 24 hours.
With a mischievous look in your eye, you patted your chest. You gave it a little knocking rhythm, beatboxing under your breath so that he’d laugh. After a moment of Steve glaring at you, the corner of his lips finally twitched up into a grin. He tried to hide it, but you’d already seen it before he could turn away.
“Don’t worry, Harrington,” you told him. “I’m not even close to being done bothering you.”
He turned to look back at you longingly, a smile ghosting behind the way he bit his lip. He nodded.
“Don’t think that ever really had an expiration date, did it?” he asks, teasing you in his husky voice that you loved whenever he was getting coy with you.
You smirked. “Never.”
He took a moment to soak you in with his eyes. “Good,” he said. “I’m keeping it that way.”
You knew what he meant. Don’t you dare fucking leave me again.
And you had every intention of keeping your word. I’m here as long as you’ll have me.
Steve intended to keep you forever.
“Now,” you said, moving towards him. “Let’s go have a big ole sleepover with these six nuggets so that we can stop the end of the world and have another six later on down the road, yeah?”
Steve glowed. He stuttered a bit, unable to breathe. “Y-you really want that? S-six of ‘em…?”
You shook your head, smiling up at him as you stood toe to toe. “Hell yeah, I want that.”
You kissed his jaw. Then, moving to scoop up a bag of the kids snacks — “That’s more buckets of Halloween candy for us down the line.”
Steve smiled and blushed unabashedly, shaking his head with the happiest eye roll you’d ever seen.
“So we’re gonna be that family, huh?” he asked, moving to grab a sour gummy from the bag you’d just opened.
“We will win every costume contest, Harrington,” you said seriously, that signature dry humor of yours coursing through your Bauman blood at full speed. “I’m very competitive. Don't worry, the kids will be too busy having a great time to know that their mom is secretly a little psycho.”
Steve tugged at the gummy worm between his teeth with the most mischievous, flirty glint in his eye. You could smell his perfect skin mixed with the scent of the raspberry candy. “Ahh, so you are mom. Thought I was mom.”
You leaned up on your toes, inching your lips towards his where he still dangled the gummy worm. “In this era? You’re mom. I’m dad. Next one, I’ll be Mommy.”
You bit at the end of the gummy worm, going full lady and the tramp with it like a loose spaghetti noodle. Steve’s lips and teeth stretched into a wide grin, eyes swimming in sex and lust as they looked down at you. You both bit and sucked the gummy worm till your teeth and tongues met. In the lowest, sexiest of husky tones, Steve told you…
“Well in this one? I’m daddy.”
His tongue lapped your mouth, tasting like sugar sweet candy. “Your daddy.”
Before you could completely dissolve into a hot mess of a puddle, familiar voices from the other side of the door sounded off.
“EEEEWWWWWWW!!!!!!”
“STEEEEEEVE!”
“Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god —”
The sound of all your kids gagging and losing their shit were making for an orchestra of triggered teens, and you both jumped at the noise. After gasping, Steve threw his head back and huffed incredulously.
“Seriously??” he snapped.
You buried your face in your hands, unable to keep yourself from laughing in pure humiliation — but also in adoration.
“You shitheads are listening in, seriously — Jesus.”
Steve huffed and puffed, but it was clear as day he loved it. You did, too. He moved to open it while you stood back, snickering into your palms with flaming hot flushed cheeks.
“Hello,” he said, voice flat.
“You’re disgusting,” Dustin scoffed.
“And you’re an eavesdropping ass hat.”
“Why do you smell like gummy worms?” Mike asked suspiciously.
“Because you left them in my room, Wheeler,” Steve said wryly.
“Yeah, for tonight!!! For all of us!” Lucas scolded.
“Well Sinclair? Maybe don’t leave your candy unattended in my room.”
“It’s Bauman’s room!” Mike said.
Steve opened his mouth, then shut it. “Right yeah, well. My house, but yeah.”
“Lord, I can’t unhear this,” Will grimaced, but even he was grinning.
“You weren’t supposed to hear it at all,” Steve pointed out defensively.
“If you’re gonna fuck around, you’re gonna find out.”
Eddie’s sing-songy voice was new to the mix as he walked past them all, carrying a bunch of things as he made his way downstairs. “Howdy folks, don’t mind me.”
Steve snapped his fingers, pointing at him as he looked back at his kids. “That. What he said.”
El looked at everyone curiously. “What does being daddy mean if Steve is that for Bauman —”
Everyone cut her off with sounds of disdain.
“Noooope! Nope, nope nope nope.”
“Nothing, absolutely nothing.”
“La la la la la la la la not talking about this la la la la.”
“Alright, enough,” Mama Steve silenced the kiddos. “Move along.”
“No, we’ve been waiting for 30 minutes,” Mike griped.
“It’s okay,” came your voice as you emerged from the room, standing next to Steve. “Why don’t you kids come on inside while Steve gets Max’s room ready?”
They all took you up on that offer, shuffling past you both and making their way inside. Steve shook his head as you grinned, pinching his side.
“Don’t worry, they’ll be grown up and outta the house before you know it.”
You winked at him before making your way into the room with them. Steve watched you fondly, hands on his hips in true Mom Steve Harrington fashion. He had that signature sexy-sassy look on his face that everyone had come to love over the years — you especially. Despite being annoyed, Steve felt his heart fill to the brim as he watched the kids scatter the bags of candy and show you the card game selections. You were hugging El closely while Dustin pointed out that he had plenty more candy hidden in his backpack. Will was telling you about his newest art collection ideas, and you excitedly listened to him while Mike and Lucas bickered about which games were better for everyone.
“Steve, you’re joining us, right?” Dustin asked.
Steve scrunched his face in confusion, doubling back with his shoulders. “Yeah, wasn’t that already happening?”
Dustin shrugged. “Just making sure you’re not gonna be lame.”
Steve shook his head. You looked over at him as you smiled.
“F’course he’s joining,” you winked. “It’s not a party without mom.”
Steve narrowed his eyes at you playfully, making your shoulders shake with a chuckle.
He felt more at home in his own house than he ever had in 19 years.
__________________________
Jonathan watched Steve make his way into Max’s room, knee bouncing.
He was seated in the living room, next to Joyce. She’d cornered him earlier, after watching Nancy move to sit on the porch alone and stare at nothing as she sat on the steps. Robin had moved to join her eventually, giving her company and offering to lend an ear.
That sprang Joyce into action, and she found Jonathan standing outside of Argyle’s room with Will. She’d found them both talking, happy to see her boys were in deep conversation and bonding. She could tell they’d been doing that for a little while now, and when they both looked up at her the three Byers all shared warm, solemn smiles. The boys looked a bit sheepish. Mostly the oldest.
Jonathan knew his mom wasn’t gonna let him off the hook. And if he was being honest, a good honest talk with his mother about something not having to do with the upside down was something he’d needed for a long time.
So they talked. Joyce listened while Jonathan spoke, and he listened while she responded. It was the perfect blend of expressed empathy, disappointment and motherly advice shared on her end. He admitted to the fight with Steve in the alleyway, back when Will was missing. And he admitted to making a move on Nancy while she was still in a relationship with Steve. She brought up Murray telling her about him getting drunk at the Henderson’s house, 2 years back…and he shamefully ducked his head as he wrung his hands. But Joyce just rubbed his back, reminding him she wasn’t here to berate him and only to talk through things the way they always have: as mother and son.
“You know, Jonathan…” Joyce spoke softly, her heart heavy. “I don’t think I ever really thanked you for everything that you did in helping me find Will.”
Jonathan did a double take, brow furrowed. “What’re you talking about, of course you did —”
“No,” Joyce shook her head. “No, we talked about it, sure. I verbally thanked you.”
“Many times, mom,” Jonathan assured her.
“Just listen,” she cut him off gently, clutching his hand. “I lost a son…but you’d lost a brother. We both lost him. Twice. God, twice… and each time was a brand new hell. We didn’t even have time to process the first round.”
Jonathan chuckled darkly. “Would we ever have processed that? I mean really…”
Joyce grinned at that. “Psh, yeah. Doubt it.” Looking back at him with a softened expression, she continued. “Point is…in the midst of all that stress, and searching, and worrying…you were still going through so much. Not just with Will missing…but everything else, too.”
Jonathan listened to his mother as she looked deeply into his eyes, clutching both his hands. She went on to tell her eldest son every validating thing a mother could tell her child. She recounted every single thing that Jonathan had been dealing with outside of Will going missing, and it hurt her to relive it all just as much as it hurt Jonathan to hear it all over again. When Joyce got to the part where she’d had to make them all move, Jonathan’s eyes watered up.
“You and Nancy were just beginning to dive into things deeply,” she was saying. “Really, you’d both gone through so much together and finally you both got to just…start being a couple, and then it all went wrong again, so that — that forced you both back into the upside down bullshit…”
“Mom,” Jonathan said, a bit shocked.
“I’m serious,” Joyce said back, eyes fierce and full of love. “Jonathan, you’ve had to be an adult since you were just a kid. Since you were Will’s age. And then you finally get into a relationship with a beautiful girl, and immediately you’re thrown into war. Not even able to enjoy your teens going into adulthood. Even Nancy, she…she’s been through so much with you. And now…”
Joyce’s voice trailed off. She sighed, exasperated with herself. She re-centered, turning back to her son.
“I love you,” she told him, eyes full of love. “So much, you just don’t know. You are just…a good person. And the fact you feel overcome with guilt as though you’re not —“
“I haven’t been a good person, mom,” Jonathan murmured, voice wobbly.
“Jonathan,” Joyce whispered, squeezing his hands. “Just because you’ve not acted right in certain ways…that does not make you a bad person. Do you understand that? Because if not — then whoever’s telling you that…whether it’s someone you love, or a stranger, or yourself…stop listening. Seek within. Listen to your heart, because it’s never going to steer you wrong. And no, that’s not just some dumb cliche saying, it’s true. Your mind will confuse you, and your soul will get shaken. But your heart? It will always lead you back.”
Jonathan’s lip trembled, and Joyce held him tight as he shook him her arms. He clung to his mother, overwhelmed.
“I’m afraid I’ll never say enough, mom,” he wept into her shoulder. “To Steve, or to Nancy… I’m actually more sure about what I need to say to him instead of her.”
Joyce chuckled early, squeezing him tighter. “Aw, baby… Don’t overthink. Say whatever is going to give your heart peace. You’ll regret anything you never said far more than anything that you did.”
***
“Trust me kid, I’m in the doghouse now for the hell I raised on the phone with him.”
Hopper stood in front of Steve, along with Murray. They’d just spoken with Dr. Owens on the phone, who’d told Murray that he wouldn’t be able to bring them the medication until tomorrow morning. Murray had managed to remain calmer than Hopper, to both their surprise. Now, they stood in the kitchen with Steve – filling him in.
Steve took a deep breath through his nose, exhaling just as deeply out his mouth like a puff of air he’d been holding while running a hand through his hair. Murray looked at him with a somber, empathic expression.
“Doesn’t mean I’m not just as furious about it,” Murray pointed out. “But given the whole…having a target on his back thing…I’m trying to have some sort of grace about it, mostly for her sake. And yours.”
That made Steve look over at him gratefully. He couldn’t imagine the stress your uncle was experiencing, knowing your heart — literally — was on the line.
“Says he’ll be here with it as early as he can be,” Murray added. “Just keep doing what you’re already doing. Which is the most.” His lips turned upwards at one of the corners. “The most, and then some.”
Steve allowed himself to give your uncle a sad smile back, appreciating being seen by him. He’s all that you had as far as family goes. With a nod, Steve let that news settle into his brain. He reached out to shake Murray’s hand, who shook it back firmly and dared to pat his shoulder. Physical affection was so not his thing. But he’d make an effort for the guy his niece was in love with, and who not only saved her life — but was still doing everything he could to keep it intact.
“Kids sleepover, huh?”
Hopper changed the subject, grinning at Harrington — who chuckled lightly.
“You guys know about this?”
Hopper shrugged. “We might’ve told them to allow themselves some fun for one night, before we all go into lockdown…” His expression turned grim, a thought pushing its way to the forefront of his brain. “And whatever plan needs to go into action.”
Steve knew what he meant. Getting back out there. He swallowed hard, giving him a quick nod. No one was ready for this. But were they ever really “ready” for any of this?
Murray and Hopper told Steve to not give any thought whatsoever to anything relating to doomsday until the next morning. They insisted that they just take the focus on laughing and soaking up the night with you and the kids. Steve was surprised at how certain they both were about it, but despite it being out of character for them in an endearing way…it scared him. It meant that they knew just how much everyone here was at risk. It made a sharp chill run up Steve’s spine.
Eventually, Steve had made his way up to Max’s room. He was sorting through it, making room for you all to camp out there. El had already turned her little cot bed into a floor couch of sorts, which made Steve grin.
He talked to Max out loud as he checked her vitals. Lucas already had, along with Joyce and Hopper. Still, he always wanted to make sure.
“Not sure if this is gonna be one of those nights where I’ve gotta make Dustin cut the attitude during games,” Steve was telling her with a smirk as he straightened her pillows. “Honestly, it’s probably an excuse for Mike and El to be able to cuddle at night. So I’ll likely be chaperoning the entire night. Good thing I got mad good sleep with Bauman today.”
Steve moved to close the curtains, watching the sun begin to set behind the trees in the distance. It looked dull, given all the debris and toxic air.
“You know what’s crazy?” he asked her. “Ever since I started sleeping with her — like actually sleeping, head outta the gutter Max — it’s…I haven’t had a single nightmare. I always have those.”
He moved to discard some of the kids’ loose candy wrapped and one of Dustin’s empty pudding containers, glancing over at her sleeping form.
“Seriously, it’s weird. It’s like she just…makes them all disappear.” Steve scoffed a laugh at that. “Who’d have thought… She’s been a nightmare to me, and now I can’t…can’t even stand to think back on the times I never saw her like I do now.”
Steve looked around the room, seeing it was good for the night. It would be a tight squeeze — but having shuffled Max’s bed over enough so that they all had room to play games and draw on the floor with snacks, it would do. He sighed, taking a second to sit on the edge of the bed near her feet.
“Maybe this is a good thing,” he murmured. “Tonight. Hearing all our voices at once. Arguing and bickering and laughing the way you all do together.”
Steve poked her knee. “Think that’ll kick start you again, red? Wake you back up so that you can give us all shit?”
Her silence isn’t as long as he expects it to be whenever he hears a knock. Steve looks over to the open doorway, finding Jonathan standing there. He looks…wary. Rough, and timid. Standing awkwardly with his hands buried deeply in his pockets, he shoots Steve a very quick, uncomfortable right-lipped grin.
“Hey.”
Steve blinks. “Hey.”
Jonathan rocks on his feet for a moment. Finally, he clears his throat. “Can I come in?”
Steve blinks again, but eventually nods. “Yeah. Yeah, sure, yeah.”
Jonathan moves to lean against the wall, next to the doorway. Steve would laugh at the fact that this is Byers’ way of “coming in,” if it weren’t for the fact that he was so clearly nervous about something. Steve had a few guesses as to why he was here. He knew this had been coming, and he wishes he’d been the one to initiate it. Because they really needed to talk.
They’d needed to talk for 3 years.
“Look, Byers,” Steve started after waiting for what felt like a century for Jonathan to say something. “I owe you an apology…”
“No,” Jonathan cut him off.
It made Steve look at him in surprise. But Jonathan continued before he could say anything else.
“No, it’s me who owes you an apology.”
Steve stared. “…what?”
Jonathan sighed, scratching his neck and praying the words could find him as he finally dove into what he needed to let off his chest.
“Look I’m not good at this,” Jonathan said. “Talking, I mean. You know I’m weird.”
He gnawed at his lip, pensive and twitchy. He looked down at his feet a lot, feeling tense under Harrington’s gaze. But he sucked in a deep breath, going for it.
“Back in 1982, you had every right to break my camera.”
Steve froze. “No, I didn’t.”
“Yeah. Yeah you did. I shouldn’t have been spying on you guys like that. ‘Cause even though I was looking for my brother, it…it turned into me just…following the sound of you all partying and watching from afar. So I mean, technically…” Jonathan chuckled under his breath darkly. “Technically, I was being a stalker.”
He looked up at Steve finally, finding him looking at him in pure shock.
“You were dating Nancy,” Jonathan continued. “And I took…really inappropriate pictures of her. In a moment when you both were having…or well, thought you were having a private moment together. That wasn’t alright. And if…if someone had done that to me and my girlfriend, I would’ve…probably done the same thing. And honestly, you getting mad at me in the alleyway that morning —”
“Dude, no,” Steve shook his head. “Don’t take the blame for that. That was all me. It was shitty, what I did to Nancy. And what I said to you.”
“Yeah it was, but you found me in your girlfriend’s room, Steve,” Jonathan told him. “I was in there with her, in her bed, sleeping next to her when she told you that she was with her family. It looked…fucked up.”
Steve was just staring again. How in the hell was this happening right now? And why had he himself never made it happen sooner?
“So you chewed me out,” Jonathan shrugged. “And no, you shouldn’t have publicly humiliated Nancy like that at all…”
“I kick myself for it every day,” Steve murmured. “Trust me…”
“I know,” Jonathan told him, voice softer. “I know that now. I’ve…known you have for a long time. Nancy told me. I know you apologized over and over.” He took a moment, going back. “But what you said to me was just…your way of saying fuck you. You felt used, tricked and stupid. After you’d protected Nancy from a guy who’d proven himself to be a creepy stalker, and it looked like she slept with him. So you lashed out. Like any teen guy would.”
“I called you a queer,” Steve says incredulously, cringing at the memory. “I even went as far as saying you were the reason for Will going missing, along with your mom. It was low, Jonathan. What I said and did was just — flat out low. No excuses. None. I’m the one in the wrong.”
“Steve, we both were.”
Jonathan’s voice finally finds confidence. It makes Steve look at him in another light, as if he’s truly seeing Byers for the strong-willed young man that he is. It occurs to him now that maybe Jonathan has been going through some soul searching of his own, just as he had over the last few years. Clearly, he still was. Both of them were.
“We were barely 17 years old, and stupid,” Jonathan kept going. “We — we didn’t know how the hell to deal with anything. Much less a missing kid, or a guy related to that kid who’d taken creepy photos. We both were idiots.”
Steve let that land. And it actually made him laugh, sheepishly.
“Yeah,” he nodded slowly, scratching his neck. “Yeah, I guess we were.”
Jonathan laughed too. It was still tense, a bit awkward. But it was becoming lighter. For both of them.
“Shit, Byers,” Steve shook his head. “Have we both been feeling awful about this for years and just… not saying something about it until now?”
Jonathan sighed. “Sounds like it.”
They were both quiet for a moment, letting this newfound revelation settle into existence.
“Thanks for the new camera, by the way,” Jonathan added. “I know that was you.”
Steve looked back up at him, finding kindness and sincere gratitude in Jonathan’s eyes. It made him feel shy. Worse, yet better at the same time.
“Least I could do,” Steve shrugged.
Jonathan sniffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well… You didn’t take the credit for it. You let Nancy do that.”
Jonathan pursed his lips, brow pinching as he shifted against the wall and stared down at his feet again. Steve waited as he watched him curiously.
“You extended way more kindness to me than I did you,” Jonathan said softly. So softly, it made Steve wonder if it was actually what he said.
“I shouldn’t have pined after Nancy,” Jonathan said. “I should’ve asked her out. Like actually asked her out, while she was single again. Before you two got back together.”
Steve felt his stomach jump. This was…a lot. So much was being covered right now in this conversation.
“But instead, I just sulked and pretended I still wasn’t in her thoughts at all. Even though I knew that…that she liked me. But I also knew that she liked you. So I just… I convinced myself it wasn’t ever gonna happen. Because that was safer. And hating you made it easier to do that.”
Jonathan looked ashamed of everything that he was saying now, but certain about it. Steve just listened, not daring to interrupt him.
“I might not have cheated with Nancy the first time you both dated…but I did the second time. And that’s not… that’s not right.” Jonathan sighed, taking a breath. “But I was a coward. Maybe not when it came to the upside down and finding Will, but up here? In regular real life? I am. I’m a coward. I don’t say whatever it is that I’m actually feeling or thinking, or wanna say. I just…wait for circumstances to make it happen for me. You don’t do that. You just…go for it.”
Steve scoffed. “Trust me, I’m…I’ve been a coward for years. In many ways, many times, for many reasons.”
“Yeah, well…you still didn’t steal someone else’s girlfriend instead of actually making a move. And I’m really…really sorry about that, Steve. I’m sorry I swooped in like that, and then…drunkenly bragged about it to Bauman Squared while you were in earshot. It made you take it out on her, when she didn’t deserve that. I did. All she did was call me out on it with Murray. They both had no idea it would turn into this.”
That made Steve squirm. He thought about how he’d been pining after Nancy still, even when she was with Jonathan. He took a deep breath, knowing he needed to let that off his chest too.
“Look,” Steve started warily. “Honestly, I really appreciate everything you’re saying. And really — apology accepted. Completely.”
Jonathan could tell that Steve meant it, and he visibly relaxed some once he let that settle into his bones. He released a breath of air that he hadn’t even realized he had been holding.
Meanwhile, Steve was holding his own.
“And you’re right,” Steve continued. “What I did to Bauman? Taking it out on her like that was…well it was projection. Cowardly projection. Instead of taking it out on you and Nancy, I took it out on someone else. Because that was easier. Because it meant that I still got to be the unsung hero in Nancy’s life, and a bigger person than you.”
Jonathan stared at him now, surprised to hear this. He wasn’t expecting his confessed guilt to lead to Steve admitting guilt of his own.
“I’ll probably be telling Bauman I’m sorry for as long as I live,” Steve continued, voice solemn. Honestly I feel…shitty beyond belief, knowing that I could’ve been kinder to her all this time…maybe even spared myself way more heartbreak...if I’d just gotten mad at you guys instead of her. Because then, I might’ve gotten close with her and discovered feelings for her before this all went down.”
“Maybe,” Jonathan pondered, nodding. “Then again… I don’t think you’d have fallen for her nearly as hard if it hadn’t been for you giving her shit for it.”
They both awkwardly chuckle at that. But it makes them both sad to think about it. How you’d taken the brunt of it all.
“Fuck, she didn’t deserve that,” Jonathan huffs. “And I’m — I’m the one who caused it.”
“No,” Steve shook his head, eyes sad and dark as they swam in regret. “No, that was all me. I was an asshole. And truthfully, I was still so hung up on Nance that I didn’t know how to even remotely look at another girl. Let alone one I convinced myself was responsible for taking that away from me, knowing damn well that it wasn’t. Nance wanted you, and you wanted her. Plain and simple.”
Jonathan looked ashamed all over again, but Steve held up a hand.
“Trust me,” Steve assured him. “She wasn’t mine to keep. I get that now.”
Jonathan slowly smiled at that. “You love her, don’t you?”
Steve knew who he meant. You.
“Yeah,” Steve whispered. “Yeah, I…don’t even know what to do with it.”
Steve stared into thin air, lost in thought. Jonathan didn’t push him, just watching him and waiting for him to go on.
“I just…look back on it all and wonder how. How did I not see her in high school, or…see during the summer of ‘84 that she was clearly perfect?”
“It takes time,” Jonathan said softly. “Shit doesn’t always hit you right away. I know that better than you’d think.”
Steve pursed his lips. “Yeah. Yeah no, you’re not wrong. I just… I dunno. I guess I’m just…”
He took a deep breath, knowing he needed to get this over with.
“I was still hung up on Nance while you were in California,” he continued, making eye contact with Jonathan again. “So much so that…I told her I was. And I’d…hoped to get her back. I wanted to steal her back from you.”
Jonathan sighed, giving him a small smile.
“I know,” he said. “She told me.”
Steve stared. Oh.
“Believe it or not,” Jonathan continued. “I’m not…mad about that at all.”
Steve blinked. “…why…?”
Jonathan chuckled. “Steve, I actually stole your girlfriend. I had it coming.”
After several more blinks, Steve coughed out a laugh. Was he serious? As Jonathan laughed with him, he realized that he truly meant it. He wasn’t mad.
“Sorry man, but I won that round,” Jonathan chuckled.
“Fair,” Steve chuckled back. “Good game, man.”
Jonathan nodded awkwardly, shuffling his feet. “Yeahhh, good game…”
They took a few moments of silence, letting the tension wear off some more. It was…nice. This weird sort of talk was nice.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is,” Steve continued. “I’m sorry, too. For going after Nance again, and not just… facing you both sooner.”
“S'alright,” Jonathan told him. “I’ve honestly been a really shitty boyfriend these last several months.”
Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“Long story,” Jonathan waved a hand. “That’s my own wrong that I gotta make right with Nancy.”
Steve contemplated that. Had whatever was going south between Jonathan and Nancy, unbeknownst to him, been the reason she’d seemed to be interested in him again? Or was that just the tipping point for her, and her buried lingering feelings for Steve?
Regardless, it didn’t matter now. Steve was so in love with you, he couldn’t see straight. But it did make him wonder.
“And honestly, I don’t blame you,” Jonathan said, smiling. “Nancy, she’s…perfect.”
Steve smiled at him. “She’s pretty wonderful,” Steve agreed. “I’ll always adore her. But…”
“…but you found your person,” Jonathan finished for him. “Your ‘perfect’ person.”
Steve grinned. “Yeah. She makes everything make sense for me, and I just…god, I love her.”
Jonathan nodded, still smiling. “I know how you feel.”
Steve fiddled his thumbs in his lap, staring down at them and feeling his stomach knot up. There was another thing he needed to own up to…
“Jonathan, what I said to you…” Steve murmured, eyes still downcast. “Yesterday, back at the fence…when Bauman…” Steve winced, skipping that part. “...it wasn’t at all —”
“I deserved it.”
“Okay, you’ve got to stop doing that, will you let me feel bad for at least one thing I’m saying?”
“No, and especially not this one.”
Steve sighed, perplexed. “…and why is that?”
“Because I deserved it.”
Jonathan watched as Steve just gaped at him, biting back amusement. He let the sincerity of the serious topic ground him again.
“You all searched and fought relentlessly for me and my mom when this all started,” Jonathan went on to say.
“...I so did not do anything from the start.”
“Maybe you don’t think you did? But you did.”
“…I so did not.”
“You got there. And besides…like we both said earlier…lots of misdirected projection. And lots of long overdue confrontation. On both our parts.”
Steve couldn’t argue that. Byers was right, at least in this case.
“You were still mad at me,” Jonathan continued, “and I was just mad at myself but convinced that everything and everyone else — you included — were the problem. Not me.”
Jonathan gnawed at his lip for several moments, clearing his throat. “You basically unleashed years of deeply buried resentment onto me in one foul swoop. I gotta say, your words…shit hit me hard.”
Steve frowned, ducking his head a bit. “I honestly don’t even remember some of it. I just…saw red.”
Jonathan snorted. “Blind rage will do that. Shit, I don’t even remember swinging on you back in ‘82. Apparently, I did a pretty nasty job.”
“I was positive you’d done permanent damage to my nose.”
“Yeah, and then you took an even worse beating from that Hargrove kid and the Russians,” Jonathan said, nose scrunched with a laugh. Steve laughed, too. They had to laugh about it all at this point.
“Christ, man,” Steve groaned. “It’s a wonder my face isn’t the prime subject for plastic surgery…”
Jonathan shrugged. “And you wonder why we all hate you so much. You’ve gotten your ass beat so many times, and still look good.”
Steve smirked. “Thanks.”
Jonathan winked. “I’m sure Bauman Squared digs it. All the battle wounds.”
That actually made Steve blush. “Psh. Compared to the fall she took? My experiences look like a walk in the park.”
“So Dr. Owens is bringing her meds tomorrow, yeah?” Jonathan asked, brow pinched with worry.
Steve sighed, raking a hand through his hair before crouching over his knees, elbows pressing into them. “Yeah. Yeah, that can’t come soon enough.”
Jonathan looked at Steve with a somber expression. He hated that he was going through this. Seriously, when was Harrington going to catch a damn break?
“She’ll be alright, man,” Jonathan told him kindly. “She’s got you. Got all of us.”
Steve nodded. “Yeah, she’s gonna have to be. I’ll lose my goddamn mind if she — yeah, she has to be.”
“She will,” Jonathan nodded, speaking firmly. Assuringly. “She’s not going anywhere.”
Steve bit his lip, staring at his hands.
Jonathan shuffled his feet, feeling shy again before asking… “So hey…are we cool? Like actually really, finally cool?”
Steve looked up at that, eyes shining with relief and kindness. He stood up, extending a hand out for a firm handshake. “Yeah man. We’re cool. For good.”
Jonathan felt relief wash over him entirely as he shook Steve’s hand, pulling him in for a tight hug. And Steve felt like he had just made so much peace with his old self in a multitude of ways, over one honest conversation with Byers. While he wished it had happened sooner, he realized…maybe if it had, it wouldn’t have led to this. This true sense of peace that came with newfound mature understanding that both of them had grown into individually.
Byers and Harrington could be friends now. They both had peace to find with Nancy Wheeler, but if they were being brutally honest with themselves — that wasn’t going to be possible until the two of them had hashed it out, once and for all. And now that they had, Steve could let Nancy know that he had finally moved on…once and for all...and so could she.
And Jonathan could go make things right with her — whether that led to them deciding to take time apart, or getting his girl back.
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TAGLIST (ILYSM)
If I forgot you or you wanna be added, lmk :)
@aloneinthehellfire @xprloki @erastourvip @get0ut0fmyr00m @Eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00 @poppet05 @wiltedflowersundertowers Originalthingparadise Pleuviors pumpkinonice Ihaveproblemsihaveproblems Brinleighsstuff Definitelynotherr sucker-4-angst bookkeeperlove notlilyyyy @goosy-goose
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington angst#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x you#mishas masterlists#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington smut#steve harrington stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#oh so we do love steve#Steve and bauman#steve harrington fluff#stranger things au#SoundCloud
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I’ve got nothing to believe unless you’re choosing me
hello! I go by Sel here and I am sharing my first piece of writing with you, tumblr. I want to dedicate this to @the-lonelybarricade because she is the kindest person online and she immediately saw my other post saying I was proud of myself for writing this and said she -sobs- wanted to read it 🥹
This is a short drabble that came out a little sad and angsty but I am a diehard elucien so have hope dear reader! This was inspired by You're losing me by my queen and saviour tswizzie. I'm so sorry in advance for any typos!
__________________________
Lady Elain,
I write this in the hopes that you will agree to speak with me upon my next visit to Velaris.
It is important and urgent.
Cordially,
Lucien
Elain smoothed out the folded lines of his letter again. Her fingers lightly brushed the letters of his elegant penmanship, terrified of blurring the ink and erasing the way he had written her name. She knew what his “important and urgent” topic was. He was tired of being shackled to her. She could feel his exhaustion, his self hatred, his desperation. Not through the bond, no. She kept her side of that golden string firmly closed. No…she could see his dreams.
She saw night after night how he confronted her, told her she had to choose. Begging her to choose him. To love him. Or to free him.
Some nights, he would dream that she accepted him and the dream would devolve into a flurry of kisses, wandering fingers, moans and sighs of pleasure.
Other nights, he would dream she rejected the bond. In those dreams she would stare at her own face, hardened by indifference and disdain. Watch herself coldly stand by as he wept at her feet. Scream at herself to comfort the man - male - that loved her.
She wished she could say those were the worst dreams but she had had the misfortune of seeing his other dreams too. His nightmares. Beron beheading a beautiful fae named Jesminda, wearing an expression on his cruel face much too similar to her own. Hot spikes descending on him. Standing firm against the whips against his back. Screaming as blood red nails dragged down his face.
The truth was that Elain didn’t know how she felt about being able to see his dreams. On one hand, she felt lucky that she could see the pieces of his history that influenced who he was but that he did not let define him, even as her heart broke at the horrors that he had endured. On the other hand… if she was being honest with herself… it made her angry.
How dare he make her care about his future? How dare he make her want to soothe and heal every jagged wound to his heart? She was independent. She was not his keeper. She was not the plaything of the cauldron. She would make her own life or die trying!
At least that’s what she kept telling herself she would do.
Truthfully, she was scared. How could she be independent in her baby sister’s house? Enjoying all the luxuries that her money bought? She loved Feyre. So much. Had finally created a true relationship with her sister but she still felt stifled. Bored. She couldn’t help thinking that a little distance might do them some good...
One of these days she was going to be able to control her traitorous thoughts… one of these days in her interminably long life.
This is why she hated thinking about him. He always made her question everything about herself, about her life.
Elain looked down again at the letter in her hands. The time had come to respond.
Two pathways emerged in front of her. The first, a path where she chose to stay in her quiet life and let her fear win. The second where fear was still present but sunshine and wildflowers lined the path and a love like no other awaited her.
She put her pen to her paper.
Lucien,
Please accept my regrets. I will be unavailable during your next trip to Velaris.
I will endeavour to make myself available on your next visit.
Elain Archeron
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I feel like a lot of people are projecting their own feelings towards what Taliesin did onto the cast as they seemed to me more stressed than necessarily angry at Taliesin but I don't actually play DnD so I thought I might ask you if what Taliesin did really was extreme enough to have actually made the cast as other playerd mad. I've just seen the claim that the cast is mad at x before, with Sam having scanlan leave or Bowlgate or Liam handing over the beacon and then the cast weren't actually mad at all.
Hi anon,
So just a blanket statement for the various questions I have received: until like, Wednesday, today was supposed to be a work from home day, as I often try to make my Fridays; I was pulled in to help an injured coworker briefly this morning, which I understand and which was relatively painless and would have left me free to work from home after 10 am, which is entirely reasonable. I then was sent to a last minute additional site and it turned out they were completely unprepared; this wasted about two and a half hours of my time and I'm now, understandably, extremely annoyed. This may bleed into my responses, though by and large I'm going to specify if I'm annoyed at you or not. Anyway, anon, I'm not annoyed at you at all and any "you" I say below is addressed to the fandom on the whole; this is a valid question.
Yeah the cast is mad. Yeah that's valid; as Matt pointed out there were extensive warnings specifically indicating that this would be a bad idea for Ashton to do. The cast is attached to each other's characters! They were, in fact, mad about Scanlan leaving and Tary showing up, because they care about Scanlan and that was an intense scene; Liam genuinely thought Sam was leaving the show. They were mad about this! They are also, probably going to get over it pretty quickly, or be "mad" about it in the way that your friends still roast you in the group chat over a typo years later. This isn't really even a D&D thing other than that Matt had Evontra'vir and Allura repeatedly say "you might fucking shatter." It's an anger born of concern that Ashton might have been permanently killed. But they weren't, and even if they were, it's fine. (The cast was not remotely mad about bowlgate though; see following paragraph.)
Which brings me to my next point. I have really only checked the blogs of people I follow because of aforementioned work problems and have barely glanced at the tag, and this is in conversation not just with this episode and that discourse and me being pissed off over real-world personal inconveniences, but also the larger discussion of "must stories have conflict?" and the fact that all the people who until quite recently insisted that actually Bells Hells are ROCK SOLID TIGHTLY BONDED and shat repeatedly on the astute point that Bells Hells are actually very surface level pleasant and don't ever discuss their issues have done a 180 that they will never acknowledge. Anyway:
It's extremely normal to be mad at people you care about, and to have arguments with them, and in fact it's likely more unhealthy to not have disagreements and get mad ever, and some of you sound like you've never been outside or had any friends. Like really that's it in the end. Actually believing Marisha and Liam were mad at each other? Friendless behavior. It's completely fine to wonder if this anger was valid, but like, honestly, people get mad over dumb shit every day and the point is that even if it's a stupid thing for the cast to be mad at (obviously, I think it's fine), be fucking normal and recognize that friends can be mad over dumb shit or valid shit and talk through it. Like. Some of you have no conflict resolution skills because you see all forms of confrontation as inherently evil and couldn't be me. I get in fights all the time and I get out of them and it's great. I am glad I no longer live in the midwest but god I cut swathes through problems there because I had zero investment in being Minnesota Nice when I was angry. Somehow this has turned into life advice, which is not what I thought it would be, but anyway. It's okay to be mad at your friends and expressing it in the way the cast did is super normal and they will probably all go out for drinks; as a person who has never chilled once in her entire life, I think we should all chill.
#answered#Anonymous#sorry anon this got off topic#much like matt i think i'm going to go have a stiff drink in 1.5 hours#critical role spoilers
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BABES
BABEBABEBABE
So, I HAD THE WOSRT 24 HRS EVER-
MY SCHOOL HAS THIS GOSSIP GIRL PAGE AND YESTERDAY AT SOME 4:30, SHE/HE POSTS ABOUT ME AND THIS GUY I LIKE-
WHO DOESN'T KNOW I LIKE HIM-
OBVIOUSLY I STARTED CRYING, AND WAS YELLING AT ALL MY FRIENDS WHO WERE TRYING TO COMFORT ME-
THE GUY DOESN'T LIKE ME BACK, UNFORTUNATELY-
BUT IT WAS SO EMBRASSING-
ALSO, THE PERSON WHO GAVE THE ANONYMOUS TIP HAD TO HAVE BEEN ONE OF MY FRIENDS, WHICH IS UPSETTING.
ALSO, THEY SPELLED MY NAME WRONG... AND TAGGED THE WRONG GUY IN THE POST
BUT ANYWAY, THE GUY WHO IT WAS ABOUT POSTED THE POST ON HIS STORY WITH A WINKY FACE, AND I SHARED HIS STORY ON MY STORY WITH A "HMU ;)"
ALSO, NOW I'M PRETENDING TO DATE THIS GIRL I KNOW SO PEOPLE DON'T EMBARRASS ME-
ALSO, I GOT STUCK IN THE LIFT FOR SOME 10 MINUTES-
AND TRIPPED 10 TIMES-
GOSH, IT WAS HORRIBLE AND UPSETTING-
... yeah, that's it... wbuuuu?
*sorry about any typos, I am very upset-*
OH.MY.GOD.
I would literally sniff out WHOEVER OWNS THAT PAGE AND SQUARE UP WITH THEM. - but like spelling your name wrong is just ..I'm 🤡...AT LEAST GET THEM FACTS STRAIGHT.
Dear child, may you be BLESSED WITH PEACE THIS WEEKEND BC THAT WAS SOME DAY. IM JUST-🌞 YOU BRAVE AF🌞 , I WOULD'VE SOBBED IN PUBLIC😶🌫️🫠🥴
YOU HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO BE UPSET
ALSO, LOOK FOR THE SNAKE IN YOUR CIRLCE AND JUST ┻┻︵ヽ(`Д´)ﾉ︵┻┻ IM TELLING YOU. BULLIES N GOSSIP SPREADERS NEED TO BE CONFRONTED AND
PUNCHED IN THE FACE
Well, my week was chaotic as FUVK. I WAS VERY CLOSE TO THROWING MANY FOLKS OUTTA CLASS- INlcuding the woman teaching us the course even though thats not her specialisation. It was super hot and humid- and I had 8 am classes EVERY FUCKING DAY
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How would the Todorokis be with their s/o?? Like Natsuo, Fuyumi, Shouto and Touya/Dabi??
I really believe that there should be a spin off called ‘Keeping up with the Todorokis’ where each one of them brings home their s/o and shit hits the fan. I love this prompt and I love ya. 💖💖💖
P.S It’s 4 am and I can’t sleep so please excuse any typos or grammatical mistakes. I’m in a daze. Enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Natsuo Todoroki
-He met you at a convention.
-He was in his second year of university and he decided to attend one of those medical conventions, to feel more like a doctor.
-You bumped into him as you were entering the conference room and being as smooth as always, he asked you to sit with him.
-After that your friendship blossomed.
-You found out that you were actually in the same university but in different classes and that’s why you didn’t know each other.
-Being in the same campus helped a lot with the development of the relationship.
-It didn’t take long for him to fall head over heels in love with you.
-He realized just how in love he was with you after a particular brutal confrontation with his father.
-He had been so angry and desperate for comfort that his body responded by itself and led him to your door.
-You of course helped him as best you could, making him some tea and quickly fixing him up with something to eat.
-You could see his anger as it radiated off of him.
-Also the temperature dropped so...yeah.
-You didn’t push him to talk, opting to stay silent and allow him to talk when he felt like it.
-And it worked.
-He opened up to you, letting everything go.
-About his past, about Touya, about his father and eventually how much he wants to just hold but is afraid that he’ll just be like him inn the end.
-He is terrified at the possibility of him hurting you like his father did his mother and making you miserable.
-He told you that he truly loved you.
-You were in tears at that point.
-His past accompanied by his confession was just too much for you to handle.
-You jumped into his arms, wrapping him into one of the tightest hugs he had ever experienced and you just sobbed.
-You said you loved him too and that he was one of the loveliest and sweetest people you had ever met, he could never be like his father.
-Of course at some point he started crying as well and you two became two sobbing messes on the floor of your apartment.
-Your relationship was like a fever dream.
-Natsuo is a fun guy but he’s also one of the most crackheaded people on this earth.
-One minute you’re being smothered with kisses and the next you are being manhandled to the floor in an attempt to get the TV remote.
-It’s...it’s a fever dream.
-He likes showing his goofy self to you and making you question his intelligence.
-I mean how could one person be an astounding medical student while challenging you that he could fit more marshmallows in his mouth than you?!
-He values his family even if it links with his father’s abuse.
-So expect to meet Rei and Shouto after your one year anniversary or so.
-Fuyumi is the first family member you meet and that’s completely an accident.
-You were over at Natsuo’s and she came to drop off some food because he can’t cook for shit and she saw you.
-All the Todoroki’s adore you.
-And when I say all I mean all.
-Even fireball man.
-He doesn’t really like you at the beginning because YoUr qUIrK iSn’T gOoD enOUgH, but later he warms up to you and is actually excited for your visits.
-Shouto claims that you make incredible soba so he automatically worships you.
-Lowkey had a mini crush on you but it lasted for like a week and then he got infatuated with his s/o so you were long forgotten.
-Rei loves you because Natsuo loves you and because you are literally a ray of sunshine.
-Dabi....he takes his time because being in contact with his family after so many years is weird and seeing them slowly building their own families is even weirder, so you get the point.
-All in all, they can’t wait until they get to call you an official Todoroki.
Fuyumi Todoroki
-MY GIRL IS A LESBIAN.
-Change my mind....see you can’t.
-She’s the shy one of the Todoroki group and it shows.
-You have to do the first move and every move for that matter.
-You two met when you were dropping off your nephew off at his school because you are a responsible AUNT!!
-You almost left without him tbh.
-You were being led to the class by him because you had lost every sense of direction.
-Once inside the class you were greeted with 17 pair of eyes on you which later changed to squeals of excitement.
-Kids are weird okay... they get excited from the tiniest of changes and seeing a new face in the class had them ECSTATIC.
-They asked you question after question and you were slowly suffocating by a particular kid having wrapped his arms around your middle and squeezing, until a soft voice was heard from behind you.
- “Kids go to your seats please, and Daichi please let go of the lady.”
- “But she’s so pretty.”
-It took some time to get him off of you, mainly because you weren’t helping.
-You were to busy being in a daze as you looked at Fuyumi.
-She apologized about their behavior and asked if you were okay.
-You, trying to be smooth, said you were fine and asked for her name.
-She answered with a smile and you started talking until a cry was heard from inside the class and she had to leave.
- “I hope to see you around, Todoroki-chan.” you said with a wink and left.
-She was blushing like crazy and barely mustered a ‘goodbye’ before hurrying into the classroom.
-After that you would regularly drop your nephew off only for a chance to see her again.
-Finally, after many attempts, you mustered up the courage to ask her out and were taken aback by her excited squeal of approval.
-Your relationship could be described as the definition of softness.
-Fuyumi is a soft person and prefers tranquility over anything else, so that translates to a relationship argument free and just a ton of fluffy dates and cuddle sessions.
-You’re relatively protective over her, especially after she shares her past with you, and become a literal watchdog every time Endeavor is in the proximity.
-You click with Natsuo mainly because you have your crack moments and he can’t help but vibe with you.
-She’s super understanding and knows when work has been especially hard on you.
-She will make some tea and give you a massage, followed by a mini make out session and maybe some steamy times.
-She introduces you to her mother only after you two have exchanged ‘I love you’s because that’s when she knows that you are serious with her.
-Rei A D O R E S you.
-She lights up when she sees you with Fuyumi.
-Shouto is a little more closed off so you’ll have to try and get him to really like you.
-With some help from Natsuo’s s/o you’ll be on his good side in no time.
-Endeavor was from the first people to meet you mainly because you were visiting Fuyumi at their house frequently and he didn’t like you.
-You two could become feral if Fuyumi didn’t intervene.
-Eventually he warmed up to you.....because Fuyumi was marrying you so he didn’t really have a choice.
-After he realized the importance of family he started having the mindset that if his children were happy he was happy.
-And you made Fuyumi happy.
-Still salty over your nonexistent/normal quirk though.
Shouto Todoroki
-You were in the same class.
-And he found you beautiful since day one.
-So it was kinda inevitable.
-Like come on, you were perfect to him.
-You were beautiful, smart, caring and super strong.
-He fell head over heels after he fought you at the sports festival.
-He spoke to Midoriya about this weird feeling he was feeling in his chest and he diagnosed him with love.
-Okay, Shouto has no idea what to do.
-His perception of love was obliterated by his dad and his mom wasn’t in his reach for advice.
-Fuyumi was an option but he didn’t really feel comfortable.
-So what did he do?
-He googled it.
-He googled how to flirt and how to make a girl like you.
-And you can imagine the results.
-Kaminari level flirting.
-Thankfully you found his attempts cute and finally comforted him about the whole flirting thing, asking him if he liked you.
-He said yes, you know, bluntly and asked you out.
-Your relationship was awkward at first because he had no idea what he was doing and you didn’t want to overstep and make him uncomfortable.
-After some time, and many kisses and reassuring later, he relax and let himself go.
-TOUCH STARVED BABY BOY!
-He’s clingy af and if he traps you in his arms, he won’t let go.
-You’re his now.
-End of story.
-You help him cope with his trauma and encourage him to reach out to his mom and siblings.
-You become his shoulder to cry on/ rant about his father and you are there for him for everything.
-During the Nomu incident with his father, he was really shaken and that’s when he said ‘I love you’ for the first time.
-You were in his dorm room, him having his head in his hands as his breaths became labored.
-You didn’t say anything, instead opted to massage his back and just envelope him in a loose hug.
-Everything he felt for his father, the hatred and the anger, had momentarily disappeared and had been replaced by dread for his safety.
-He had destroyed his mother and their family, but he was still part of him.
-Shouto stayed there, in your arms, and just contemplated about his feelings towards everyone, not just his father.
-And that’s when he realizes that he loves you.
-And he just blurts it out.
-You are taken aback to say the least, but you still return his sentiment.
-He decides to introduce you to his family after that.
-First stop is Rei, who loves you.
-Seeing her Shouto looking at someone like that, with so much love in his eyes, is addicting and she couldn’t be happier.
-Next stop, Fuyumi and Natsuo.
-You go out on a triple date and things are hectic.
-Chaotic energy overload.
-But everything works out and the all of them end falling in love with you.
-Endeavor, tolerates you because of your quirk.
-Not that you care.
-Shouto keeps you away from him anyways.
-A wholesome boyfriend.
-Husband material right here.
Dabi/Touya Todoroki
-Burn me you flaming ball of daddy issues.
-Friends with benefits.
-That’s how it all started.
-Just some fun nights, shared between two partners in crime before returning to murdering people.
-The thing is that, in order to make Dabi fall in love you have to do something crazy af.
-You two were on a mission to spy on Overhauls rookies, when someone spotted you.
-He was about to shoot one of those quirk erasing darts right on Dabi’s back when you pushed him out of the way, getting your quirk erased and hitting your head because of your unceremonious landing.
-You have never seen one (1) Dabi roast 20+ people faster before.
-Your whole body felt stiff and heavy, making even the slightest of movements a challenge.
-Dabi was on his knees in no time, calling your name like a mad man and trying to keep you conscious.
-He scooped you up in his arms, cold sweat running down his spine as he watched you fall in and out of consciousness.
-Even after you closed your eyes, you could here him faintly calling out to you, spewing nonsense just to stir a reaction.
-Once at the hide out, he almost roundhoused Shigaraki’s ass because he got in his way, he rushed over to the new healer of their group.
-After being told that you were going to make it, he disappeared for a week.
-You woke up and he wasn’t there, which kinda hurt.
-Okay, you may or may not have feelings for him for some time now, but of course you won’t say anything..
-You will scare him off.
-Little did you know though that Dabi was getting himself wasted in an attempt to drown his feelings for you.
-His plan failed and he decoded to confront you about it.
-Get it out of the way.
-He came back and dragged you out of the hideout and aggressively confessed to you.
-You two are now exclusive.
-Congrats!
-Things are really chill.
-He worries when you go on missions by yourself, especially after seeing you like hurt after that Overhaul mission.
-Cuddles with him are based on his mood.
-If he doesn’t really want to cuddle, he won’t .
-You can’t change that no matter what.
-You are the only one who knows about his backstory and his family.
-After being together for a long time you encourage him to reach out to his siblings or his mom.
-His dad is a no no from both of you.
-And eventually he actually does.
-He introduces you to them and they have to warm up to the both of you.
-Because having your until recently deceased brother introduce his s/o to you is kinda....overwhelming.
-In the end, they are happy to have their brother back.
-And seeing so happy and trusting with another person, had them warm.
-Dabi deserves love.
-Poor baby suffers and he doesn’t deserve it.
#fuyumi x reader#fuyumi todoroki x reader#natsuo x reader#natsuo todoroki x reader#shouto x reader#todoroki shoto x reader#todoroki x reader#todoroki x y/n#dabi my hero academia#bnha dabi#dabi x reader#dabi#bnha
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I Think you’re In Love With Me
Pairing: Draco x Slytherin!Reader
Warnings: Sexual themes, semi-fluff
Author’s note: This is my first imagine, I based it off one of my fav songs. Hopefully you like it, I am open to any feed back! Also sorry for any typos, only did a quick edit. I hope this isn’t absolute trash haha. If you have any requests my ask box is always open.
Summary: Y/N is your classic bad girl type, sarcastic and always sporting an eye roll. She’s tired of Draco’s relentless flirting and attempts on her. But when Draco smells her aroma in potions she decides to confront him, but will he see through her tough girl act. Maybe just maybe she feels something for him too. (Based on the song I Think You’re - By NYNE. Is it just me or does this song suite Draco so well!! You can listen on Spotify)
Y/N wasn’t one to be messed with, every one knew that. She looked as if she could kill with just one glance of her piercing eyes. They were always highlighted with her signature winged eyeliner and dark green eyeshadow. She was a rule breaker, never one to listen to her professors, always sneaking out past curfew and causing trouble, a classic badass. Y/N didn’t know it but Draco always had his eye on her, stealing quick glances in the hallway, watching the way she would sway her hips with sass as she walked, or the way that she would twirl her dark brown locks around her finger opposite him in the Great Hall.
Y/N and Draco had a fairly complex relationship, they would constantly tease and flirt with each other, both of them relentlessl, neither backing down. Draco and Y/N had always been fairly close friends since they had been sorted into Slytherin together in their first year. At some point along the way, Draco thought maybe it had become something more. It was in their third year when he had noticed she came back different, she was taller, her hair was darker and her curves had filled out, Draco had started to feel a spike of nerves whenever he was in her presence. Not only had her body changed but she had matured over the summer break, enticed by her now snarky attitude and quick wit. He was more than surprised when she would retaliate to his mindless flirting, no longer allowing him to get away with it with rosey cheeks and a shy smile as you had used to in your second year. Unbeknownst to anyone else, he wanted her to be his, he had decided that he would do whatever it took to earn your heart.
Y/N’s POV
Luckily for Draco they had recently been assigned as partners in potions, and today just happened to be the day that Professor Slughorn was to teach them how to brew Amortentia, to say Draco was nervous was an understatement. He knew that this would lead to him exposing his feelings for her, there was no doubt in his mind that he would catch a whiff of her sweet aroma.
“Draco would you pass me the moonstone?” you ask not even looking at him. He glanced over at you, his signature smirk plastered across his face. “Where are your manners Darling? Say please and I might.” You roll your eyes at him and sigh. “Fine…my darling Draco will you please pass the moonstone?” you say with your most sarcastic tone. “See Darling that’s all you had to say” he says winking at you.
“That was the last ingredient, one more stir anti-clockwise and it’s ready.” You breathe out looking over at Draco, who happened to be staring at you, you flash him a quick smirk, knowing you had caught him. “Come on then Draco take a whiff.” Your sarcasm coming out once again, you watch as he leans over the cauldron, closing his eyes as he breaths in the potions fumes. “Well, What does it smell like?” You say sounding half interested. “I smell coconut shampoo, musk perfume and new books…” He trailed off, knowing he had given away his crush on you. He looked up to see you smirking at him. Before you had the chance to say anything Professer Slughorn had ended the lesson and Draco was out the door.
Draco’s POV
A few days since that night in the common room had passed and Draco was sat quietly in the library trying to fit some study in, when his two friends Blaise and Goyle sat down opposite him. He couldn’t help but want their opinion on his situation so he decided to spill and tell them about his crush on you. “Of course she knows that I fancy her Blaise, you should have seen the way she approached me about my Amortentia.” Draco says rolling his eyes at his two friends. He told them exactly what had happened in potions last week and how you had more than confronted him about it. “Merlin Draco, you need to throw it back to her” Goyle chuckles “Beat her at her own game” He finishes. “You might be onto something there Goyle, when did you start using that brain cell of yours?” Draco says snickering.
All week in potions Draco would tease you in some way, running his hand up the inside of your thigh, not quite high enough to were you needed him most, waiting for you to drop your bad girl attitude and give into him. To his surprise you took everything he threw at you, coming back just as hard. You would swirl your fingers dangerously close to his clothed crotch underneath your shared desk. But Draco always managed to keep a straight face, never giving in to your advances.
On this particular day in potions Draco’s hand was sitting dangerously close to your clothed heat as he drew circles into your soft skin with his thumb. “I can tell what you are trying to do Draco, it’s not going to work.” You say to him under your breath with your signature eye roll. “Come on Darling I know you want me, you’re a bad girl and you know it!” He says with a smirk. You look over at him with a smirk “you know you’re just as bad.” Merlin, he loved your bad girl side, you were both bad and everyone knew it.
Y/N’s POV
Draco kept up with your teasing, you’d go fast then slow, stop then go, you were utterly surprised that he had not caved in to your advances yet. But today was different you hadn’t seen him all day, it was as if he was avoiding you, you thought maybe he had become fed up with the constant teasing. You had just come from your Defence Against the Dark Arts class when you waltzed into the common room to see Draco sitting in his favourite chair by the fire. He was dressed head to toe in his black suit, making you weak at the knees. Merlin he looked so good in that suit, it contrasted against his platinum hair perfectly, you could tear it off of him there and then. He hadn’t noticed you yet, you decided to just stand there and admire him for a while longer, how he sat there, glass in hand, his favourite Firewhiskey no coke, the bright orange glow of the roaring fire reflecting on his pale skin, Merlin he was handsome.
“It’s rude to just stand there and stare Darling.” His husky tone catching you off guard. “I haven’t seen you around today.” You say matter of factly “I’m tired of chasing you Y/N” he said sternly. You instantly soften, you know that Draco has had a rough childhood, maybe it was time for you to tell him how you really felt before he became disinterested. “Dray, I know you’ve been hurt before, but you know I’ll love you more.” You were standing directly in front of him now. Draco staring deep into your eyes, his pupils dilated. He put his glass down on the table beside him, he was finally going to take what was his, he wrapped his arm around your waist jerking you forwards so that you ended up straddling him. His hand resting softly on your cheek brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. You couldn’t handle the teasing anymore, crashing your lips to his in a heated kiss. Draco relaxed into you, fighting your tongue for dominance. Biting your bottom lip he had won slipping his tongue inside. After a few minutes you pulled away needing air. “Not such a bad girl now are you?” He says smirking at you. “I’d describe myself more as a spice girl, nice girl, party all night girl.” You say with sarcastically while giggling. He chuckles at this, hands still firm on your waist. “Party all night definitely, nice girl, you are anything but.” He growls in your ear. “Yeah and you love it Malfoy.” You roll your eyes at him. “You know it Darling.”
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Headcanons on Ezra and/or Frankie not feeling good enough for their S/O and their S/O comforting them?
A/N: first of all these are definitely a choice I made and it’s okay; second of all, why did this take me all day to write haskghfdj but I did both Ezra and Frankie bc I was having a soft Frankie moment; third of all I literally did not read though this so it’s probably full of typos and redundant words but fuck me
Word Count: 1k+
Warnings: angst, fluff?, soft!hours bitch everyday is soft hours on this blog, the same thing twice except it’s not the same thing at all but it is lol, some quality ass lines going to waste in a headcanon but I loved writing this so it’s okay
Ezra
he absolutely feels this way when he falls in love after losing his arm
Assuming his right hand was his dominant one, he was nearly sobbing from the emotional loss. Ezra thinks a lot, he assigns musings to inanimate objects like books and buttons and arms, because he wants the believe there is beauty in everything, that everything has meaning.
Feeling things is very important to him. The texture of a tree trunk, the cooling glitter of river water, the bumps on your skin. When he says “no love too intimidating,” he definitely means how his right arm holds his most intimate secrets.
He wants to love you to his fullest capacity, love you with his whole body and every last molecule of his tattered soul because you deserve so much more but that’s all he has to offer.
Ezra gets touchy when he’s feeling less than. It’s difficult to notice if you don’t pay careful attention; he is touchy enough on its own. But his insecurities rear its ugly head in the most timid of ways: a kiss that lingers for just a moment more, a hug that lasts a second longer, a nuzzle that travels deeper into your neck than you thought possible. Because he doesn’t know how to compensate for that arm, that missing piece of him.
Ezra is a very honest man; it’s hard for him to keep his emotions in his chest for them to rot and suppurate in the swollen heat. So he’ll probably ask you if you think he’s enough in more ways than one.
It’s confusing to you at first; Ezra has always been somewhat of an enigma, always saying so much and yet the meaning behind his words is so complex that you couldn’t begin to comprehend how the stars over his head cross each other.
“Won’t you lay here with me, my starlight?” and “Just one more kiss, butterfly,” and “Can’t an enamored man tell his muse that he is in such a state?”
And it’s hard for you to say no to him when he looks at you with his pathetic doe eyes, begging you to let him love on you.
But as his doubts grow, his questions begin to concern you.
“Dandelion, you’re happy here aren’t you? With me?”
It breaks your heart to see him so lost, feeling to destitute.
But Ezra trusts you, gives you his whole essence because he doesn’t believe you’d ever want to hurt him, so it’s just a matter of cooing “sweet boy, of course I’m happy. Ezra, you make me happy.”
Or even telling him that “pretty poet, you just being is enough” and that “your existence is a gift in its own, Ezra”
It takes time, requires cycles for him to learn that his love for you is not tied to a limb, attached to anything physical. His love is misty, a cotton candy fog that fills your atmosphere and enters your lungs, melting down to sugar so that you can hear it rattle when you breathe.
But he learns.
Frankie
our beautiful angel bottom
Frankie always feels like he’s taking from you.
You’re so good to him, so loving, and he has spent his time with you letting the little moments with you add up.
He has the ability to recognize every little second of time you spare for him: bringing him take out after he’s had a long day, letting him drive you far off to the ridged edges of the earth so he has a human cushion to hold while he star gazes, sitting in his lap in the backseat of his truck during a drive-thru movie doing anything but watching.
You’re a lot for him, you give him so much, and he doubts that he filling your cup in the same way you empty it. The way you empty yourself into him.
Frankie’s not the best at communicating his problems. He likes to hold things in, to sit and observe and hold his own thoughts until he bursts and his words sting as they leave his lips. He lets his insecurities build, develop in a static silence that he thinks he can resolve on his own because he doesn’t want to burden you more, dump even more of his baggage onto you.
When he gets like this, when he’s festering, he gets distant. It only ever aggravates the issue, rubbing sandpaper on a sunburn and rolling coins into a stab wound, but he’s afraid of offending you. He’s scared of pushing you away.
Frankie’s words do not come in a million small drops of rain, a thousand dainty freckles peppered along cheekbones. Frankie feels like he is the storm, the flood, the monsoon, and that when his feelings flow they crash onto the ground and destroy homes in his path and uproot trees buried deep in the Earth.
He doesn’t tell you until you confront him, asking him why he’s been so distant. Asking him if everything’s okay.
And he can’t lie to you like that, he can’t tell you that there isn’t anything wrong, because something is wrong and it’s with him.
He’s barely able to get out a “Baby I-” before his throat constricts, choking out the flames of his sweet voice. He always tries to be delicate with you.
You have you hold him in your arms for a little bit, give him a safe space to collect himself and pull his shit together because he can’t believe he’s putting this on you, drawing pity out of you.
You’re tender with him, not that it’s hard. Holding him is like balancing a scared puppy in your hands; how could you ever hurt it, be rough or mean towards it?
Telling him that “it’s okay, baby, I promise I can handle it.”
Once his thundering has quieted and the lightning stops striking, he musters to courage to tell you that “I know I don’t deserve you. Just - please, take me as I am.”
Your heart fills with his pain, pins pushing out the walls from the inside. You had no idea.
But with a little “I think you deserve everything Frankie” and a little “baby, if I took all of you I think I’d drown,” and even something as simple as “Francisco Morales, you have always been enough,” he feels universes better.
It doesn’t take much for him to back to that sweet, soft man that loves you so kindly.
Your gentle giant.
Tags: @mrsparknuts @girlwithanewplan @mrschiltoncat @agentpike
i’m still figuring my tags bc I’m a mess but child anyways here’s the link for my tags bc WOW pls just take it because I added a question about fics/drabbles/headcanons which is why I’m having hot girl problems rn
#like I could've used these lines for a fic or a drabble#but no#i used them for headcanons#i hope it's worth the 20 notes jfhgjdsfg#i hope you enjoy this anon#where ever you are#lmao#ezra (prospect)#ezra x reader#ezra prospect x reader#ezra x you#headcanons#fluff#angst#frankie catfish morales#frankie morales#frankie x reader#frankie morales x reader#catfish x you#catfish x reader#frankie x you#frankie morales x you#triple frontier#prospect#iris writes#jhgdfjdjkfagjdi i hate it here
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I absolutely LOVE Sketchy Saturdays and I always look forward to them!! As for my question(s)? What made you decide to start doing it(I'm glad you do but I was just curious!)?
Hoooo boi the Sketchy Saturday Origin Story: I suppose there's two versions.
The short version reads " Moving stress, deployment depression, and isolation VS. my utter determination to DO SOMETHING whilst trapped in my home " -- Sketchy Saturday was the result of that title fight, so I guess the fandom won in the end? XD
The long version, however... Well, buckle up, cause this is gonna be a ride.
It may surprise y'all to know that two years I was eyeballs-deep in the South Park fandom. The blog still exists; my mainblog, JustCallMeButtlord, built to interact with the audience of my fanfictions-- the New Kid Stories, called NKS for short [gonna be porting those to Ao3 soon, just gotta figure out what robo-reader I'm gonna use to make a quick n dirty podfic out of the series as well as help me hunt down typos my eyes galze over]. The first 'season' of stories had ended, 8 completed fics, and I was puttering about with a bonus holiday story that was several months out of season. Not that I CARED because I was on GUAM where seasons don't exist and my time blindness gets even worse becasue without seasons changing it feels like time never progrsses even after being on the island for three cocksucking years.
I don't hate Guam, I am just not built for constant heat. I am a snow creature; I like below-freezing temperatures so I can layer up in fuzzy, fluffy things and drink hot drinks and cuddle loved ones and/or furry animals. It's a lovely island, I adored my first week there... I just wasn't made to live there.
HIlariously, NKS started out of the stress of moving to Guam. Two years and 8 fics later, the place we were renting was no longer within our price range and my hubby and I were forced to move onto base. Under the leader whom I refuse to name, military pay was given a precentage raise... but it was ripped out of bonuses and OCONUS pay. OCONUS is what a military member is paid when they're stationed Outisde the CONtinental United States. This usually means overseas bases like Japan, but it also means Hawaii, aaaaaand... GUAM. So that percentage pay increase for the military at large meant belt-tightening for every service member abroad, and we were forced to move onto base.
In case y'all haven't noticed by now, I'm a raging socialist with some issued with authority. I DO NOT LIKE EXISTING ON BASE. I do not like existing in a place where the national anthem plays twice a day, every day, at 6 AM and then again whenever the hell sundown is that day. And there's an unspoken rule no one tells you that when it plays you're supposed to stop what you're doing, face the nearest set of speakers playing the song, and stare in that direction with your hand over your heart until its over. That, if you're driving, you have to put on your emergency flashers and pull over. No one tells you this. NO ONE TELLS YOU THIS.
And then, before we had secured a place on base but we had set a move out date for the rental house, the Pandemic happened. While we were between homes. The base is talking full lockdown, Guam authorities want to shut down the island but businesses are terrified of not getting the tourist season business, we don't even know if we'll be allowed to move on to base.
Surprise, I stopped writing for a while... but I picked Fallout 4 back up again. I had been forced into the series years earlier by a toxic relationship, but the game itself hadn't been bad-- just the way I'd been forced to play it by someone who was firmly not in my life anymore. When confronted with character creation, I wasn't sure whom I wanted to make... but decided to go back to an old character. A VERY old character, whom I hadn't thought of since I'd finished ME3 at least 4 years prior, and a character I first conceived of when I was 14-ish... which is now about 15 years ago.
Paige.
I've talked before about how well Paige's story maps onto Fo4, but this was before I knew that. I knew the opening, her losing her kid, and that fit with her-- but something clicked while I was playing and the part of my brain that likes to create started wandering off. Soon enough I've got a couple chapters of a ficlet that I'm TOTALLY just writing as a personal one-shot to de-stress, no way I'm publishing this, I don't wanna get distracted from NKS, I got a whole 'nother season to write! Who cares if no one is reading it anymore because South Park Fandom doesn't like continuous plots.... right?
I was burnt out as hell, the move was looming, the Pandemic was getting worse and everything was getting scarier.
Then the news came through that hubby would be deploying again.
He wasn't supposed to, but the Navy decided the safest place for their sailors was the middle of the ocean, so if you WERENT in quarantine you were going on the boat and you were living there. Didn't matter if your spouse would be alone, unpacking a whole home by themselves.
I had a friend on base. We hung out. I met with my DND group on weekends; we all lived on base now, so we could meet up in like five minutes... and then restrictions tightened. You could be fined up to 5 grand for gathering in groups greater than 5, even outdoors, and detained if suspected of going to a home that wasn't yours. I still met 2 of my friends once a week for walks; get outside, be active, talk to other humans, but besides that? I was locked up alone in a new house in a place that I did NOT like existing in.... with a fresh new hyperfixation developing.
I think it was about a week into the new house that I made the new blog. At first I tried to run it side by side with the South Park stuff, but it wasn't long before all my attention was here... aaaand it also wasn't long before I was confronted with a lot of my own despair; of lockdown, of isolation, of watching a broken system crumble and not being able to DO anything about it, and I started to kinda lose my shit. I fuss-- I can't leave things alone, and I couldn't leave this feeling alone; of being fully and entirely helpless and hopeless.
And then I sketched a thing for a friend, and it made them happy. They were having a rough time, too, and I put something together because I couldn't think of anything else. And it helped. It lifted them up, and it lifted me up, too. Someone else had recently reblogged one of those pallet challenges that floats around Tumblr, and I decided FUCK IT LET'S DO THIS THING AND CALL IT SKETCHY SATURDAY!
Little secret, the very first Sketchy Saturday request? Was me. I was so scared no one would noticed the event, I sent myself the very first request, back when the event still took anons. Soon as that first picture was up:
BANG, suddenly four more; some people off anon. I met people that day, talked to them after the very first Sketchy weekend was over, chatted about the games and characters and art and writing and just... felt human for the first time in a really long while.
I figured I'd hold on to Sketchy Saturday until the deployment was over-- once hubby was back, I'd decide whether I was keeping it or not... but he came back, and I was still super into it, and he was supportive, sooooo I kept going! And then we did Sketchy Secret Santa, and people loved it, and my volunteers are excited about being Sketchy Elves and Secret Helpers and just OH MY GOD I DID A THING GUYS. I DID A THING-- that was just me all December and January long lmafo.
AND JANUARY! Because AH HECK, WE MOVING AGAIN! Because hubby finally got orders, and OH MY GOD we're going back to WA... but it's still a move half-way around the globe, and I was SURE I'd have to shut down the event for a month while we got our shit in order and NOPE, because here come the volunteers from Sketchy Secret Santa, and they wanna fill in all month long! Like... I didn't even ask for that shit, guys. They offered it so the event wouldn't have to take a gap.
Jesus I'm getting teary just remembering it.
So yeah. Sketchy Saturday is here because I got really lonely and stressed out while Fallout 4 provided me with some... catharsis for my situation, and then a pandemic happened.
And then y'all happened, and I'm still here. :D
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Lost You (Shawn Mendes) [2]
Feat. Tom Holland
A/N: This took way too long and I am really sorry for the wait. Also, this got a bit long too aha. The song btw is Unloving You by Alex Aiono check him out you guys he’s really talented, so yeah give that a listen because the performance is kindaa based on the song. Anyhow, I hope you guys still like this one!
Summary: After seeing your performance on a song you wrote about him, Shawn went out to get some air, but his peace was quickly interrupted when Tom decided to follow and confront him
Warnings: a sprinkle of Angst and typos
Word Count: 6.4k+
Masterlist in Bio
-:-:-:-:-
You are very grateful that your dressing room has a bathroom in it, that was the purpose as to why you got out of your seat in the first place.
Your stylist was kind enough to help you out of your dress quickly and into your performance dress, a more comfortable and movable one before you got into the bathroom to empty your bladder.
Tom was being all blushy and cute while you got changed, covering his eyes with both hands and never peeking as promised, making you giggle in midst of your current mix of emotions after what happened with... Shawn.
The dress you wore was pale pink with a long, A-line bottom and a v-neckline to match a low back. The whole dress was covered in lace that extends into cap sleeves with petal appliqués littered all across, giving you an almost, fairy-like type of feel.
You wore close to no make-up now, hair down to frame your face, with your feet all bare, the rawness of your features critical for the song you were going to sing.
You wanted it to be intimate, real and emotional. Not much big production, just pure and simple you on stage, nothing but the beautiful sound of the piano and a few ballet dancers to tell a story.
"Are you sure you're alright?" Tom asked again the moment you reached the couch. Plopping yourself beside him, you nodded with a sigh. "Yeah just, seeing him brought back memories."
Tom frowned at your words, arm extending as he draped it over your shoulder, hand rubbing your arm in comfort. "What'd he say to you?"
You shrugged at his question, fingers picking at your dress as you softly mumbled. "That he still loves me and that he wants to get back together."
"And?"
"No, gosh no. I can't go back to what it once was. I couldn't even if I tried. And I really don't want to because every time I look at him I just see... pain." You shook your head with a frown of your own, hurt spreading inside you as the tainted memories replayed itself inside your head.
"Do you still love him?"
You took a sharp, deep breath at the question, two sides of yourself going against each other as to what you feel about that certain boy. "I don't know." You admitted with a defeated sigh, your mind a mess a long with your heart that you couldn't exactly give Tom a straight answer.
Maybe there's still a part of you that loves him, the Shawn you once knew at least, but that always seems to get clouded by the Shawn you saw just minutes ago. The familiarity in the way he looks at you, the glint in his eyes, it was still there, but barely. You saw a very different person from the boy who you fell in love with, because all you saw was the person who broke your heart into pieces.
"Okay, let's change the subject because the crinkle on your forehead is back, you need to clear your mind and relax. You're performing in a few darling." Tom pressed his pointer finger on the space between your brows, smoothing out the wrinkle with a reassuring smile that you couldn't help but feel all warm.
You looked up at him with a small, genuine but guilty smile. "Thank you and I'm sorr—"
"No need for that love. I've promised you that I'll always be here whenever you need me, and I tend to keep my promises. And before you start, no, you're not being a burden nor are you leading me on. I'm a grown man; I make my own choices, and am aware of the consequences. And as I've said plenty of times before, I am willing to wait for you whenever you are ready." Tom gave your arm a gentle squeeze, eyes boring into yours as it showed nothing but pure genuineness.
You felt your heart melt at the seams at his words, so grateful to have someone be at your side in time of need and one who actually cares about you wholeheartedly.
You are aware of a certain feeling that courses through you whenever you're with Tom. As to what it is? You haven't figured it out completely yet. This just makes things now more complicated than you thought it would be, adding the whole Shawn thing.
Tom and you have talked about what he felt for you, and you've also told him that he's free to find another as you are not sure as to when your heart gets fully healed. You don't want to use him as rebound at all, nor do you want to hold him down, that's why you've never told him anything that'd give him too much hope or anything, feelings wise, that you weren't sure yourself. You've been blunt and honest with him from the start, completely transparent without any sugar coating, but still, he understands and is still willing to wait.
With a simple explanation that you're not exactly ready yet, that you need to focus on yourself and be the person who you're meant to be, Tom understood. He always did, he's just incredible like that.
Pushing yourself up slowly, you placed a soft and sweet kiss on Tom's cheek, the simple action catching him off-guard as you felt his breath slightly hitch. You pulled away to look at him fully, face only an inch apart that you could make out the swirls of his beautiful brown eyes, the tips of your noses almost touching and you couldn't miss the way you felt your heart skipped a beat.
"You are such an amazing person, have I told that?" You whispered softly, Tom's eyes glancing down for a second to catch a glimpse of your lips before they were quick to be back on yours. It was a fast peek, but you caught it nonetheless.
He didn't take it further though, knowing that he can't do that to you right now, especially with what's going on inside your head. You saw it in his eyes, he knew it just wasn't the right time, and you were thankful.
Tom only chuckled with a nod, a soft blush coating his cheeks as he shot you a sweet but playful grin. "Yes, you have told me that, countless times, but I don't get tired of hearing it though."
You rolled your eyes with a laugh, swatting his chest playfully to which he purposely yelped a little too loudly. All overdramatic and everything. "That wasn't even that hard!" You exclaimed with giggles of your own.
"It still hurts love." He pouted at you, rubbing his chest exaggeratedly just for the purpose to sell his act. "I thought you had super strength Spider-Man? Unless you're a fraud." You accused as you narrowed your eyes at him, Tom gasping in feign offense.
"Hey!"
Both of you continued to banter back and forth, giggles and laughs echoing around the space until it was cut off when you were finally called to stage.
***
"Please help me welcome to the stage, your best new artist, Y/N L/N!"
Shawn's head snapped back at the stage once he heard your name. He'd been seating all angsty the moment he got back from meeting you in the hallway. He has been silent the rest of the night unless someone acknowledged him, but otherwise, he kept still and quiet, just waiting for you to appear on stage.
He was a complete and utter mess, but nothing a few fake smiles can't hide. Having done this before, all the eyes and the cameras lurking about, he was getting good at masking his feelings.
The lights started to dim as the applause faded out, the whole arena eerily quiet until a single spotlight shown right at the very back of the stage. And there you were, standing in all your raw and breathtaking beauty that Shawn has ever seen you in.
"I wish I could unsay the words I said..." Your voice echoed throughout the whole place, the sound sending shivers down Shawn's spine as it's been so long since the last time he heard you sing in person.
Then the melody of the piano came rolling in, the music just as beautiful to match your voice.
I wish I could unsee the videos in my head
And if I could untie the knot and unhear the promises that you forgot
Would I do that?
Would I?
Shawn's heart ached at that. He knew what this song was about, from the very first moment you released it, he knew it was about him. The pain, the hurt and regret in your voice was clear as day and it took a big swing at his heart.
Movement on the stage snapped him back to reality as you walked forward ever so slowly. You looked like an angel to him, glowing right in the middle of the stage, your dress flowing with every step giving the illusion of you floating in mid-air.
The moment you reached a space another spotlight lit up, illuminating a few dancers acting out as couples as they move beautifully in sync with the song, so much raw emotion in one stage.
Unloving you, is the hardest thing to do
Wish I could find a way to be unlove with you
Unloving you, you're all I wanna lose
But every night I'm closer to the bitter truth
I just can't unlove you
Maybe I can't unlove you
Shawn understood the lyrics clear as day, he's heard this song more times than he should, but he tried his best to not hold out hope, because he knows you. He knows you can never release a very personal song unless... unless it doesn't hurt you that much anymore. And if you were able to sing this live, then that can only mean one thing.
Maybe you've written the song right after everything. Just pouring every pain and suffering he caused you into lyrics and melodies to help you heal, and maybe by writing this song, you have healed, and releasing it to the world just means it doesn't hurt to revisit it anymore. It means that you've probably moved on, and that only leaves Shawn even more broken that he already is.
I wish I could unfeel your skin
I wish I could undrown these feelings and learn to swim
Oh if I could unlock the gate and unlight the fire that you put in me
Would I do that?
Would I?
The couples were now surrounding you, all acting out mundane things like slow dancing, reading books, one even had a mixing bowl in hand as they laughed, but the one that stuck out the most to Shawn was the couple sitting right in the corner, on a picnic blanket, the guy who oddly looked like him, holding a guitar in his hands.
It was way too familiar that Shawn felt his heart sink.
The first time I told her I love her.
Tears started to prick at Shawn's eyes as realization hit him like a truck. What the couples on stage were doing, it was the things you two always did when you were still together. Every single one of it, from making a mess in the kitchen to you reading him stories in bed.
He felt his chest slowly tighten, his body all tense as his mind ran a hundred miles per minute, just thinking about all the beautiful memories that now were tainted, all the blissful things that once was and might never get to experience again. All because of what he did.
Shawn stared right at you as you finished off the last chorus, the lights that were casted upon the couples started dimming one by one, almost serving as a sign that those memories, they were flickering, disappearing into nothing.
Unloving you, is the hardest thing to do
Wish I could find a way to be unlove with you
Then the whole stage just burst to life, all dancers now moving in complete sync as you poured your heart and soul into the last beat.
Unloving you, you're all I wanna lose
But every night I'm closer to the bitter truth
I just can't unlove you
"But someday I will unlove you..." Everything then turned dark, the only light was yours as you stood there, right in the middle of the stage with a proud yet relieved smile.
The whole arena erupted into applause but the only thing Shawn could hear was the sharp ringing in his ears.
That's was it.
That last lyric change was all it took for Shawn to get up his seat and rush out. It may have looked bad if someone caught him, but hell, it would've look even worse if the camera caught him close to tears and unable to breath.
He just needed some air.
***
Shawn didn't know exactly how but he managed to find an empty lot at the very back of the arena, no signs of life so far. Big trucks were parked all around, hiding him some more from any prying eyes that could be lurking by.
He shut his own eyes tight as he threw his head back, the breeze of fresh air cool against his face as he took in as much as he could to try and calm himself down. His mind was still so crowded, so many thoughts rushing in and out of his brain at high speed and he couldn't quite grasp what was real and what was not.
Shawn thought he was okay, that he was good after the break up. He admits, he made the choice, he wasn't fully heartbroken when he did what he did. But as time went by, it slowly started to creep on him, all the pain and sorrow, and when he saw you tonight? That's when everything finally hit, a tidal wave of regret, guilt and hurt, all in one big swoop.
Shawn shook his head as he opened his eyes, now staring straight up at the dark night sky. There was no sound aside from the muffled screaming from inside, the premise somewhat, peaceful in a sense. He took in the calmness of everything around him, and slowly Shawn felt his heart rate go down, breathing going steady as he tried his best to clear his head, just counting the stars that he could see through the blaring lights of the place.
It was going great so far, that until he heard the door he came out of open and then close.
Turning around, he was filled with confusion and pure surprise as the person in front of him was the last who Shawn expected to see. He didn't ever expect to see him at all in pure honesty. Out of the number of persons who could've seen him run out, out of all the people who could've followed him, it had to be Tom Holland himself, how funny.
"If you came here to gloat—"
"No, I came here to give you a word of advice." Tom stood there with his hands in his pockets, a solemn look on his face to which Shawn only responded with furrowed brows. "I don't need your advice." He grumbled.
"I think it's best if you stay away from her." Tom ignored Shawn's comment as he added, voice stern and laced with pure warning, making Shawn scoff as he crossed his arms over his puffed out chest, all tall and confident. The Canadian boy wasn't scared of the British lad that's for sure. "And you expect me to listen to you?"
Tom shook his head. "No, I don't, but for her sake? I know you will." When Shawn didn't say a word, Tom continued, taking one step forward towards him to try and get the point across. "You claim that you care about her right? Then if that really is true, you need to let her go and let her be happy. You owe that to her."
Shawn let's out a mocking laugh, gesturing towards all of Tom as he sneered. "What, with you?"
The lad shook his head with a disappointed chuckle, arms falling limp to his side as if he can't actually believe that this is the card Shawn decided to play. "You're not getting the point here mate."
"No! You're not getting the point. I still love her, and I'm not going to give up until I get her back. I will keep fighting for her no matter the cost." Shawn wasn't one to have temper, he tends to have good control over it in most days, but right now, he couldn't feel anything else aside from anger and utter annoyance.
Sure, Shawn doesn't know Tom fully well, but he already doesn't like him. Maybe it was his ego talking, or maybe it's because Tom was with you but in Shawn's mind? How dare this guy tell him what to do?
Tom's patience was also starting to waver, the thought of you hurting and broken because of what this bastard did and continues to do was enough for Tom to not like Shawn, and he was going to make sure he hears what he has to say. "Do you want to get back with her because you truly love her? Or is it because it hurts your ego to see her with someone else and you just can't have that?"
Shawn blinked as Tom's words echoed inside his mind. He grew speechless at that, eyes casted down to the ground as he looked away to avoid Tom's accusing gaze, and that in itself was already an answer.
"Exactly my point."
Shawn was slowly crumbling, the gears in his head turning as he started to grow confused as to what he truly feels. He does love you, no doubt about that, but is that the main reason why he wanted you back? Or is there an underlying reason, a certain feeling that Shawn just can't seem to admit?
The curly-headed boy wasn't given the time to clear his head though, because Tom didn't stop, he wasn't near done.
Maybe it was all because of the pent up frustration he had for Shawn after so long. Granted, Tom doesn't know much about the guy, but he's heard enough. Just the name of the man who broke the woman Tom cares so much about, he's been hearing it over and over for months on end, all the things he's done. And now, Tom just wanted to let all his frustrations out and give him a piece of his mind.
"I know you're hurting right now, I can see it, but I care about Y/N a lot, and after seeing what you did to her, plus the aftermath? I don't want to be an asshole but you deserve all of it, if not more." Tom crossed his arms over his chest, jaw clenching as his mind went back to all the times you spent hurt and crying in his arms. You were an amazing, kindhearted, and compassionate woman, and you didn't deserve even an ounce of what Shawn put you through.
"Shut the fuck up Tom. You have no right to tell me what I deserve, you're not even in the fucking picture because this is between me and Y/N. This is none of your business. I will choose what the fuck I want to do and who are you to stop me huh?" Shawn growled through gritted teeth, fists balled at his sides as he took a step towards Tom, but the lad didn't seem to be bothered, not when he could match Shawn's anger easily.
"You've already made your choice the moment you broke her heart mate. You chose to be with someone else. Fucking hell, you are with said someone else right now, and then all of the sudden you want her back? Because what? It bothers you to see her with someone? To see her with me?" Tom held his head high as he spat, nostrils flaring with a glare to match, not showing any signs of weakness as they grew even closer, heat radiating off of both guys and it was a matter of time before someone explodes.
Tom was in dangerous proximity if Shawn gets even angrier and decides to get physical, but he wasn't scared, not even a little bit. The guy was obviously taller, maybe bulkier sure, but Tom? Well, he's had training. He knows how to box.
The two were pushing each other to their limit, poking the bear until one finally cracks, neither one seeming to back down as anger, pride, and egos collide. Tom even more so as he kept going at Shawn, words not lessening any blow even in the slightest. Tom had to make sure it thoroughly gets to him, that's why he had to make it sting.
"You weren't there to see how broken she was, how broken you made her, I was. You didn't see how dark it got, how low she felt, but I did. The amount of times she cried because of you, the countless times she felt so insecure about every part of her being because of you, the number of times she beat herself up by saying she was never, and will never be enough all because of what you did, I was fucking there for all of it and it fucking hurts to see her like that." Tom's temper was slowly slipping from him, his heart pounding against his ears at the mere thought of you in pain. He just cares about you so much, and remembering what you went through, it was clouding his mind.
When he went out to follow Shawn, he was planning to just have a casual talk, maturely settle some matters, and maybe even extend some comfort but things escalated way too fast and got way too heated and here they were now, one upping each other on who could get even more angry.
"I'm not standing here out of spite and jealousy, I'm here to tell you that I'm not letting you break her apart again and then just leave for her to pick up the pieces after. I sure as hell won't let her go back to old ways, because she doesn't fucking deserve that Shawn. She deserves to be truly happy, to heal, and you're not the person for that, not anymore because you're the person who broke her." The accusation in Tom's voice was clear as day, and Shawn heard it all too loud, each word ringing in his ear.
Shawn was breathing heavily now, heart beating rapidly against his chest as it pounded hard that it might as well break his ribs, but the anger, once it starts to boil, then it gets even harder to control.
"You're words don't have weight on me. I don't know you, I don't care about you and you're not stopping me from getting her back." Shawn didn't even convince himself on what he said, because everything that Tom has been saying, it was getting to him, in the heart and mind. It was painful to hear it, but maybe that's because it was the truth.
"Can't you see what you're doing to her right now? You're making her relive the darkest times of her life. She's been so much better than before, she's worked so hard to be better, and then you just come prancing in expecting that if you say you still love her, that'll fix everything? Well guess what, It did the exact opposite." Tom wasn't sure what it was but he can't seem to hold his tongue anymore, he was fighting fire with fire, two minds too consumed with outrage that nobody was having any sort of grip on themselves, no sense of control and that only breathes nothing but disaster.
"Shut up." Shawn grumbled hastily, nails digging into his palms at how tight he was balling his fists. The ringing in his ears, it was getting louder and louder, and Tom's words were only making things worse.
"If you can't see how much you're hurting her by pushing your way back into her life then you don't care about her, you only care about yourself. You're just being selfish and it hurts your pride that for once, you're not getting your way with this."
And that's when all Shawn saw was red.
"Shut up!" Shawn screamed, Tom stumbling back once he felt a full on fist collide with his nose and before Tom could even do as much as regain himself, another one hit him square on the jaw.
"Tom!"
Shawn froze at the sound of your voice, shaking and blood-covered fist raised in the air as he watched you run towards them.
A cold chuckle left Tom's lips, wiping the warm blood running down his nose with the back of his hand as he looked at Shawn tauntingly. "You've got to hit harder than that mate."
Shawn glared at Tom, and he was really going to have another blow but you've already reached them before he could even flinch.
"No! You two! Stop!" You hissed.
Shawn's anger was quick to dissipate with just one look at you, quick to be replaced by pure guilt and regret. He was staring at you with a deep frown, and when your eyes met his, all he saw was a look of pure shock followed by disappointment. You shook your head at him, sighing as you turned to the other boy, eyes growing wide once you finally took in his state.
"Oh god, your nose is still bleeding, dammit!" You scrambled, both hands cupping Tom's face gently, turning it from side to side to check if there were any more injuries. The lad only chuckled softly, leaning into your touch like a puppy, hands holding onto your wrists as he gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm fine love."
"Well you don't look it!" You scolded, worry laced in your features because this idiot's nose has been broken one too many times, and you were scared that this might have done some permanent damage. And as if Tom read your mind, he spoke.
"It wasn't that hard of a punch, I'm going to be fine." He was clearly instigating Shawn, provoking him to do something again so that Tom could have his chance too, but the other guy only scoffed, crossing his arms to stop himself from doing anything, because if Shawn does, then Tom wins.
"Thomas." You glared at the boy in warning, still in the state of confusion and shock as to why the two of them are here and having a fist fight in the first place. "Okay, okay, I'll stop, sorry darling." Tom pouted at you, to which you could only roll your eyes.
Men and their egos.
Shawn on the other hand has finally had the time to clear his head. He wasn't going to deny the jealousy that was consuming him just watching you be so gently, caring and sweet with Tom, and he so badly just wanted to leave but he needs to talk to you. "Y/N—"
"Just wait Shawn. I'll talk to you in a second." You sighed, sparing him a quick glance over you shoulder to see him nod solemnly and wait, weight shifting from one foot to another, head down like a puppy being scolded.
You turned back to Tom with an equally long sigh. These two really decided to butt heads, at such a public event and place, you were just praying that there weren't any paps or anyone for that matter who caught what just happened. That'd be a party for the press for sure, you can already see the horrifying headlines.
"Go back inside please, Tricia is just by the door maybe she has a tissue in hand." Tom frowned at that, sparing Shawn a look before his worried eyes were back on you. "But—"
"I can handle myself Tom." You flashed him a reassuring smile, but that still didn't seem to put Tom at ease. "I know. It's him I don't trust."
"I can hear you." Shawn interrupted with straight-out snark.
"Good!" Tom responded rather too enthusiastically with mockery laced in his tone, and the two were quick to be back on glaring at each other, willing to have another go, especially Tom because a part of him was itching to land at least one painful punch.
You let out a loud groan of utter aggravation.
Kids. Literal kids and it was taking everything in your power not to grab them both by the ear and drag them inside or to pull all of your hair out and off your head, whichever comes first.
"Tom, please? I'll meet you inside in a bit." You pleaded, and Tom could see that you were starting to get even more exasperated with the two of them bickering. So, he flashed you a sweet smile, giving your arm a comforting rub and then turning on his heel to walk back inside, but not before calling out to Shawn one last time.
"Remember everything that I said Shawn."
With that, Tom was out of sight, you turning around to meet Shawn who was already looking at you with so many emotions, a few of which were sorrow, guilt and regret.
"Y/N, I—" Shawn stopped himself, his mind still a jumbled mess that he can't think of what to say to you. You waited for him to continue, sporting a frown of your own as you took him in, his hollowed cheeks, messy hair, his bloodshot eyes, and his whole demeanor just...different.
"Shawn I'm worried about you." You sighed as you walked closer, the boy shaking his head as he ran a hand over his face. "I'm okay." Shawn stated ever so softly, eyes avoiding yours and that only made your frown deepen.
Worry was growing inside your chest the more you look at him, all defeated and lost, because as much as you're angry and hurt with everything that involves him, you can't find it in yourself to turn off that caring side, the one you'll always have when it's him.
"No Shawn, you are not okay. This isn't you." Your shoulders slumped as you watched him avoid your gaze still, head hanging low even when you're only just a foot apart. "You're not one to pick up fights Shawn, not even when you're drunk. Out of all the people I know, you're the one who has the most control with their temper. And you don't look okay, you've lost so much weight and I can tell just by looking at you. You look too tired, and you just don't look...happy." You pointed out softly.
Shawn lifted his head as he nodded, bottom lip caught between his teeth to stop it from trembling, but his eyes were still elsewhere, still refusing to meet yours.
"Shawn, what's going on?" You asked, just in general, because the happy and glowing Shawn you knew was lost. Some might say it was the toll of touring the world but deep inside, you knew there was something else, something more.
"I–I'm sorry." Shawn croaked, voice breaking as he finally looked at you, so much guilt and regret swimming in his teary eyes. "I–Tom told me... that you went through so much because of me and I'm just—I'm so sorry honey. I really screwed up and I–I know this will never be enough but I'm really sorry... for everything." Shawn couldn't get his words out straight, lips quivering as he tried his very best to keep his tears at bay, but he was miserably failing at it.
You felt your heart ache at the sight, completely at a loss for words because you don't really know what to say. You can't lie to him just to make him feel better, and you can't tell him anything else apart from the full truth. But the truth might just be too cruel, because you haven't forgiven him, at least not yet, and you really don't want to rub salt on the gaping wound.
Shawn must've sensed that you were troubled, because he took courage to take your hand in his, touch delicate as he gave it a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay if you don't want to say anything. I know it will never be easy to forgive me and I understand that, I don't deserve an easy way out of this." He was sniffling his words, tears now slowly falling down his face as he looks at you ever so longingly, and you were stuck again, stuck under his gaze.
You can feel your own tears starting to build, just looking at the broken man in front of you was enough to pull at your heartstrings. You were so conflicted inside, two voices in your head arguing on what you should do, and you don't have the strength to choose one, not when Shawn was so close, close enough to make your walls crumble piece by piece, close enough too for him to easily sway your decision.
Lifting a hand up Shawn cupped your cheek, fingers trembling until it touched your skin, the cold feeling of his palm making your eyes flutter shut as you tried to get a hold of whatever rational thought you had left.
You weren't giving in, you just can't, not after everything you've been through.
"I was fucking stupid, and there won't be a day that goes by that I won't regret everything that I did to you. I will live with the consequences for as long as I need to, but I want you—no, I need you to know that I do still love you, and I–I think I always will." You shook your head as a quiet sob escaped your lips before you could even stop it, a single tear escaping down your face because you were suddenly taken back, to all those memories, both dreams and nightmares.
The stitches on your heart were starting to rip apart, one thread at a time, the pain and hurt back on it's course as your mind kept replaying everything, both good and bad but the bad, it always seems to have the upper hand. "Shawn I—we can't, I can't go back." You whispered. The shake in your voice, the look of utter sorrow and conflict written across your beautiful features were enough for Shawn to understand what was meant, when Tom said that Shawn was only hurting you even further by pushing his way back into your life.
He truly does understand, and as much as he hates to admit it, Tom has opened his eyes. "I know honey, I know and I respect and accept that. It was wrong for me to ask after everything that you've been through, after everything that I put you through. You deserve so much better and I'm really sorry angel." Both of Shawn's hand were holding your face tenderly now, thumb swiping across your cheek to get rid of the tears that were coating them.
You could only give him a nod as you sniffled, words still a jumbled mess inside your head while so many different feelings swam in your heart. You weren't usually the one to grow speechless when it comes to most things, but tonight, you properly have no idea what to say. You can't tell him it's okay when it's not, you can't say you forgive him when you haven't, and you also can't say what the future might hold for the both of you because you really don't know.
The way he looks so fragile, so broken as trickle of tears kept running down his face, you can't find it in you at all to just tell him the cold truth.
Shawn closed his eyes momentarily, dragging in a breath, gathering all the strength that he has left before his brown orbs met yours again. "It hurts me to say this but it's the right thing to do. I have to let you go and I will. I'll keep my distance and let you heal, let you be as happy as you can be, even if it's not with me."
"And you're right, you always are. I am not okay." Shawn let's out a broken sob at that, his dried up tears replaced by new ones as it falls down his face, eyes back on the ground to hide the pain coating them.
Your nimble fingers wrapped itself around his wrists, slowly pulling his hands off your face as you took it in yours. You gave it a squeeze, the action making Shawn look up back to you with teary eyes and trembling lips. "Shawn, you need to take care of yourself. You need to heal too. And please, don't do it for me, don't do it for anyone else but you. Be okay for yourself. Please?"
Shawn gave you a soft nod, a slight pang hitting his chest because you just have the biggest heart, and the fact that he broke it to pieces, he feels so angry and disappointed at himself.
"Can you promise that?" You flashed him a small but genuine smile, hands letting go of his as you raised your pinky finger between your bodies.
Shawn bit his bottom lip to suppress a sob, slowly nodding his head as the tears blurred his vision again. The fact that you still have a little faith that he'd keep a promise, after everything, you just deserve the whole world and more. Shawn is and will always be the biggest idiot for what's he's done to a person as sweet and kind as you.
"I–I promise."
You engulfed him in a hug much to Shawn's surprise, but slowly, his strong arms wrapped around your waist as you rubbed comforting circles on his back. Shawn closed his eyes to relish your warm embrace, as sigh of content escaping his lips, giving you one last squeeze before pulling away.
You two looked at each other, sharing a short but sweet moment as you both exchanged smiles. It wasn't as wide nor bright, but it was genuine, a telltale sign that whatever the future maybe for the both of you, the path of redemption, forgiveness and healing was clear. Whether your paths would cross again at the end? It was for the universe to know and you to find out.
"I'll see you around rockstar."
And with that you walked away. But oddly enough, Shawn's heart doesn't feel as heavy as he watched you leave. Shawn felt content with what happened and he was gladly looking forward to what lies ahead.
-:-:-:-:-
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the Christmas Switch
Prompt: Satan gets Christmas letters from kids who misspell Santa’s name.
It’s one strange day in Hell indeed when someone dares to interrupt Satan’s afternoon nap.
“Ex-Excuse me, Sir—” Satan cracks a single eye open, studying the postman in front of him who’s somehow managing to simultaneously sweat like a broken water fountain and tremble at the near frequency of an electric toothbrush. Rather understandable, the Devil thinks, considering that the poor man’s standing in Hell, directly within blasting range of the ruler of said land.
“Yes?”
The postman jumps at his voice, lower than usual from his recent nap and twice as menacing, though Lucifer would probably just dump a cup of water onto him. Trembling even harder, he involuntarily retreats a few steps away. Not like it would help him in any way.
Satan sighs, rubbing at his temples with a clawed hand to ward off the incoming migraine that’s sure to set in sooner or later.
“What brings you to my domain?” he asks slowly and clearly, making sure not to move too quickly lest the postman gets a heart attack.
“I— There’s a— no, I mean—” the man starts, stumbling over his words as he frantically roots through his satchel, spilling several letters in the process. Satan raises a single eyebrow as he watches. The postman finally manages to produce a neatly stacked set of envelopes of varying sizes and colours, and Satan vaguely muses at how miraculous it is that he hasn’t dropped any of the letters into the pond of lava right next to him yet. Clearing his throat, the postman starts again, proffering the stack towards Satan with a hand that’s trembling so hard he’s actually amazed the man hasn’t managed to shake the words right off the paper itself. “I mean to say, you have— your post, S-Sir.”
Satan nearly chokes on his drink.
Letters? He wonders, internally backtracking. And for me, of all people? It’s only when the postman replies that he realises he said it out loud.
“Yes, Mr. Sa— I mean, sir.” The postman tentatively takes a step forward, eyes honed onto the Devil for any sign of movement that would presumably send him running like the wind. After detecting no threat — or at least, as minimal of a threat as one such as Satan could pose — he quickly lays the letters down at Satan’s feet, holding out a clipboard and pen towards Satan gingerly. “N-now, would you please sign here to declare that y-you’ve received your mail?”
The second Satan manages to scrawl what should resemble a signature onto the space indicated — it’s not as if he’s ever needed to write, that’s Lucifer’s job as the accountant — the postman snatches everything back and disappears in literal seconds. Satan watches the man’s rapidly receding back and contemplates how he made his way into Hell in the first place.
After he’s certain the postman’s long gone, Satan picks up the stack of letters thoughtfully wrapped in a length of twine string. “Letters for me, huh.” he mutters as he picks apart the knot, dumping the five envelopes onto his lap.
For lack of a better term, they were all covered with the brightest colours that a crayon could conjure. And they were all labeled in the shaky handwriting of children who have just mastered how to write their first letters.
tO sAtAn, the envelopes proudly declared, in various colors. Unable to hold back his curiosity, the Devil slit open one of the envelopes with a pitch-black fingernail and glanced at the letter within.
dEar saTan, the letter starts. mY name iS EmiLY, aNd i am 6 YERs Od. (It took a few moments to adjust his eyes to the assorted sizes of the letters. ivv bEN a GOOd GIRL THis YER, aN i wOULd ReeLy LUvE a pupy fR CRissmass! pRETTY pLEasE? YOU COULd COmE OvER aNd pLay wiTH HER, two! Satan finds his lips cracking into a smile as he decides the brown coloured blob on the bottom of the page is most probably a drawing of a dog.
Picking up the other letters, he opens them more eagerly, devouring the content within like a man who’s been deprived of water for a long time. Except, he doesn't exactly need water to survive (demon and all) but that’s beside the point. Timmy would like an action figurine (whatever that was), Ann wanted a new teddy, and the other two letters were written in penmanship that the Devil simply couldn’t decipher, even when he took out his reading glasses and squinted at the crayon scribbles so intensely the letter nearly went up in flames.
And no, the Devil certainly did not accidentally singe a hole into one of the letters in the process.
“LUCIFER! I DEMAND YOU READ THIS FOR ME, THIS INSTANT.”
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Out of everything he’s put up with over the past few centuries — not that Santa would ever admit that he was ancient — getting ambushed by a cloud of ash and sulphur was definitely a first. And that was saying something, considering how often he’s been tripped up by a devious string of bells wrapped around the kitchen in a childish attempt to catch him out during the job. And just don’t mention the cookies and milk. Santa didn’t know who started the ridiculous notion that he’d like twenty million cups of milk and double the amount of chocolate cookies during one night, considering how they’d forgotten one crucial fact: he was lactose intolerant. Also, who in the world in their right minds would think one man would be able to stomach enough cookies to sustain a small army in one night? Ridiculous.
Well, there was a reason why Santa didn’t sneak into houses via the chimney anymore. Not that Satan seemed to care, that is.
Santa blinks. Wiping the soot off his glasses to the best of his ability, he squinted hard at the figure in front of him, internally wincing at the scolding Mrs. Claus would definitely give him for getting his suit dirty again. That was Satan, all right, with an innocent ‘deer in the headlights’ look that had no business being on his face.
“What are you doing here, Satan?” he asks, furiously wiping his glasses, as if he’ll be able to banish the sight of the Devil in a crude mimicry of his own outfit. Satan shrugged nonchalantly, with a grin so big Santa half expects to be eaten whole. It certainly looked… ominous. The barely disguised, unadulterated glee behind was even more so.
“I’ve been asked to deliver some Christmas presents!” he chirps, and Santa swears, if Satan’s smile was creepy, Satan chirping was horribly terrifying. Had he managed to overthrow God or something? He should just— wait.
What?
“Little Emily has specifically requested for me, so you can just move along,” Satan says smoothly, leading Santa to the door.
Santa finds himself standing next to his reindeer — who are coincidentally having a staring match with Cerberus and Hades, who are somehow perched on the roof — when he finally processes what’s going on — oh no.
Immediately, he runs back into the house, making sure not to wake up the inhabitants of the house when he proceeds to have a whispering match with the Devil.
“Look, Satan,” he starts, trying his best to be reasonable. “You don’t have to strain yourself like this. I’m sure I can manage to cover the five kids who’ve accidentally written your name on their letter on my rounds. How about you just head back to Hell and, I don’t know, take a dip in one of your lava pools?” He was interrupted by a barely suppressed growl and oh, that was why people don’t usually like Satan; he mused as he was confronted by a rapidly reddening face and glaring red eyes.
“She wrote to me, Santa.” Satan hisses, waving a piece of paper that’s somehow singed in a corner and covered with crayon but the word ‘sAtAN’ is vaguely distinguishable in the top left corner. “Me.” Satan puffed his chest out in childish triumph. “Not you.”
Santa sighs, pinching his nose with a still soot-covered hand. Of course, this would happen.
“This happens every year, alright?” he says in an attempt to pacify the beast. “Some kid misspells my name, and the post office is usually smart enough to redirect it my way. One of them must have slipped up this year, and that’s why this happened.”
This, however, seems to be the wrong thing to say, as steam metaphorically — or is it literally? — starts pouring out of the Devil’s pointed ears.
Santa quickly decides that he’s not paid enough to deal with Satan on top of delivering presents to another couple million houses before dawn — and that’s already five minutes he could’ve used to get that done wasted — and so he just roughly jerks the basket out of Satan’s hand before ruffling through his sack — a little girl would probably love a doll or something — when sharp needle like teeth latch onto the hand that was holding the basket.
Satan watches calmly as Santa frantically pries the teeth of the small creature off his finger.
“Down, pup.” he says once he’s decided Santa has had enough punishment — the insolent brat — and the creature obediently lets go, diving back into the basket before Santa can see what it is.
“It’s just a puppy,” Satan says soothingly. “Nothing wrong with that, right?”
“I suppose.” Santa concedes as he bandages his bleeding finger. “Now, no giving them anything inappropriate, alright? Or I’ll make sure never to let a single letter reach you again, no matter how many typos there are. Deal?”
Santa’s never seen the Devil grin so widely before. And so, he reluctantly allows Satan to leave his present at the Christmas tree. He supervises as Satan carefully leaves wrapped presents that look somewhat safe — a plastic sword, a teddy bear, a few figurines — under others.
At last, all the houses have been visited and dawn is peeking across the horizon. Santa lays sprawled across a particularly overgrown roof as he watches the sunrise with his reindeer — and never in a million years would he ever imagine — Satan, Hades and Cerberus, who’s still staring at Rudolf, growling.
“This was a good year,” he says, satisfied with his work. After all, he managed to deliver all the presents, and on top of that, Satan didn’t burn anything down! It was an accomplishment in itself. “Next year, if you want, I’ll teach you how to make gifts, so you don’t have to buy them from stores.”
“Buy gifts?” Satan looks at him quizzically. “Why would I have to do that? I’ve practically got everything they could ask for stowed away somewhere in Hell. A sword was just plain easy. I did have to bribe Hephaestus to make some of the figurines, but it’s pure luck that Cerberus’ kit had pups this year.”
Santa feels a sinking sensation in his stomach as he processes this.
“You did WHAT?!”
-vrei.essor
#christmas#my writing#writing#santa#satan#cerberus#writing prompt#original content#do not repost#do not copy#or satan will not deliver your presents :)))#satan gets a kid a three headed puppy for christmas#tired santa#regrets life#short story#my precious#writers on tumblr#not a prompt
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🥵Trapped (Todoroki x Reader)🥶
Todoroki Shoto x female!reader
Genre: fluff
Wordcount: 1.6k
Warnings: none.
Summary: Wow, I‘m so bad at summary’s! But basically Todoroki and reader are trapped in a room and it turns all fluffy and cute at the end😛
A/N: Xcuse any typos I’m vv tired. Do y‘all want me to make a smut out of this idea? That’s what it actually was supposed to be but I got lazy🤭
Enjoy!
______________
,,What the actual fuck! Goddamnit!'', you yelled frustrated as you kicked against the big steel kind of door, which prevented you from leaving this small warehouse.
It was awful in there. The light was dimmed and blinked from time to time, it was packed with boxes and other junk and on top of that the room was freezing cold, what made it almost impossible for you to sit still in one corner of the room with your your rather thin hero costume. Unlike your partner, who was calmly sitting on one of the boxes, silently following all of your movements. You could feel his gaze in your back, what made you want to leave this place as soon as possible. He made you nervous. You liked Todoroki for a while now. After your 3rd year at UA, you were sure, that you liked more about the half red half white haired boy, than just his appearence. The way he carried himself, how disciplined he was and the most important, how nice he was to you.
You had a rather rough start at the UA due to your ethnic background. While the others first seemed to be kind of scared of you, Todoroki actually made the first step and wanted to know more about you. He was your first friend, and the more you guys started to know about each other, the more you grew together, however your feelings for him did so too. You were convinced, Todoroki would never feel the same for you as you felt for him.
It was too heartbreaking to act like everything was fine, eventhough it was everything but that. You couldn't stand your friends for flirting with him and making remarks about his good looks and felt more than bad, because you love them. The only person who you could trust with your problem was your close friend Tsuyu. She knew everything about your dilemma and promised to keep it a secret from everybody, but as time went by you could see how much it affected her to see you suffer from so much heartache. So you decided to do what you though was best for everyone and distanced yourself from Todoroki. By ignoring him and his messages, you thought everything was going to be alright, what worked for a short while after he gave up fighting for your attention, but you soon were about to regret your decision of joining Endeavor's company as work place, after your year got their deploma and were licensed as pro heroes.
Todoroki told you multiple times, he would never do more than his intership at his dad's company and as soon as he got out of school he would do his own thing. To bad. A year later you saw an E-Mail waiting in your inbox. It was a short but convincing and mostly surprising, job offer from Endeavor himself, you decided to take the offer and work for Endeavor, where you soon saw the reason for the unbelievable oppertunity. It was definitly Shoto, who had something to to with your sudden hiring. He knew how much you would like to work for the knew number one hero and took advantage of that, but you weren't sure why.
Annoyed, you banged your fist against the door. ,,Hello, is there anybody? Can anybody hear me?''
,,Don't waste your voice, Y/L/N-Chan. I'm pretty sure this warehouse ist isolated", icyhot said from a little far behind you but still perfectly audible. You let out a sigh as you furrowed your eyebrows ,,Could've said that a little earlier couldn't you? By the way we're at work, so please call me Y/H/N'', you answered cold, still not looking at him. You turned around, leaning against the door, as you slid down on hit, facing the wall across from you, forcefully ignoring Todoroki. The cold floor hit your bottom like a harsh slap, making a cold shiver running down your spine. How much you prefered, sitting on his lap, snuggeling your head into his warm chest. But it shouldn't be.
,,Can't you...like...melt it or sumn?'', you asked more ironically, since you were sure he would've done it right away if the door was meltable.
Sudden rustling filled the air. Surprised, you followed Todoroki from the corner of your eyes, as he got up from the big box, slowly walking towards you. Nervously, you swallowed the lump in your throat, as your stresslevel increased with every step he made, when finally a big shadow covered you. You were to stubborn to look up to him, shooting your head to the left. A deep exhausted a little bit sad sounding sigh, escaped Todorokis throat. He kneeled down, to be on eyesight with you.
,,You're shaking. Are you cold?'', he asked slightly concerned. Even if you wanted to slap him for asking such a dumb question, you appreciated him caring about your wellbeing. You didn't answer his question, the lump in your throat making it impossible to bring out a tone without an embarrassing voice crack, your body to numb to react. Wordless, Todoroki next to your right sneaking his left arm around your waist, to hold your cold body in place and using his right arm to pull your upper body further into his warm chest, protectively covering your body.
His sudden action made you stiffen and Shoto felt it. He felt how nervous and shocked you were about his action, not being used to your body being so close to his. Man, he wasn't either with his touch starved self, but something inside of him pushed him to do so. Silence fillede the air just as Todoroki's bodywarmth filled your whole body, causing you to loosen up under his grip.
,,I'm sorry, Y/L/N-Chan'', Todoroki broke the silence, causing you to furrow your eyebrows in confiusion. What exactly was he sorry for? You stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.
,,I know about how your feelings for me. Asui-San has told me on our last day at the UA. She explained to me, why you behaved so strangely the rest of your school year and why you couldn't be around me anymore. It was very...unexpected to hear that. You never gave me the feeling to like me as more than a friend, you know?'', he continued. His chest vibrated as he spoke, the lump in your throat increasing. This time it wasn't of your rising nervousness, it was more the sudden confrontation that caught you so off guard and his regretful voice pushing tears up your eyes.
,,I was very hurt and upset, when you started to ignore me. I thought you were using me for your own perks, so I gave up on our friendship. It was awful to let you go like that, I didn't want accept the fact that this should be our end and when Asui-San came around, it all made sense to me. Not just your own feelings Y/L/N-Chan, I was able to arrange my thoughts and feelings too. That's why I chose to work for my Father and made him hire you, because I knew how much you waned this job so I took the opportunity. I couldn't let you go like that. It shouldn't have ended like that an The very first moment our eyes met again, I knew that you still had feelings for me and shared the same opinion as I did.", he mumbled against your hair, listening to your soft sniffing as you burried your head in his torso.
,,Well, did you make your Dad hire me, just so you can torture me even more? What is your intention?'', you whispered with a shaky voice, afraid of his answer. You're head was racing whilst your heart roughly pounded against your chest. It was exhausting and painful to work with Todoroki and act like nothing ever happened, therefore it was a relief and scary to be know, he was aware of your feelings the whole time.
,,I like you, Y/L/N-Chan. I really do. And I wasn't aware of my feelings until you started to distance yourself from me. I'm not trying to make excuses here but all this emotional stuff is very...new to me. I didn't even know I had feelings like that.'' You both chuckled at his silly remark, lifting up the mood.
,,What does it mean for us?'', you asked curious. Shoto gently pushed you away from him, fixing his eyes in yours, as his warm hand cupped your soft cheek. He lightly ran his thumb over your skin, scanning every little detail on your face. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and before you could even react you felt a pair of soft lips covering your own. It took you a while to react to his kiss. As soon as you realized what was going on you were quick to reciprocate the kiss.
A thousand, no, a billion butterlfies rushed through your stomach, making you feel flushed and excited. The kiss was soft and gentle yet so passionate and intense, your whole body was heating up. The way his big crude hands, blandly held your face as he craved to taste more of you, it was so perfect.
Out of breath separated from each other, leaning your forheads against each other. You enjoyed the silence only covered by both of you heavy breathing, as you looked in each others eyes. A small winner smile curved on Todoroki's face, reflecting on your face.
All the years you were hiding you feelings, crying and suffering by yourself ended here and now. You were so happy, you couldn't describe the feeling any better.
,,It means, that I want to be with you, Y/N. Let’s get out of here, so I can proof you how serious I am.“
#bnha headcanons#bnha todoroki#mha todoroki#todoroki shouto#mha x reader#todoroki x reader#my hero academy fanfiction#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#boku no hero manga#boku no academia#bnha fluff#bnha imagines#mha fluff#mha imagines
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1/ Hi, Gabi!! I'm here to talk about your fics! As always, be mindful that I'm not known for my concision. Anyways, let's begin! || First up we have the "Daylight" series. The Reader character in this one actually feels like her own person, especially thanks to the added backstory and caring nature. I actually really liked her dynamic with Mando, with that shaky beginning that evolved into what I refuse to call anything but love ~ 🍪
2/ (I mean, he almost confessed in that last chapter, that has to count for something, right?). I really enjoyed every single chapter, from the confrontation with Euric that preceded some amazing hurt/comfort + a smidge of yearning to the sex pollen chapter that was very fricking hot, without forgetting that last chapter where we got some more hurt/comfort AND love. They are in love and it's adorable. He told her his name!! And now they're sharing a bed! 🥰🥰. ~ 🍪
3/ Anyways, I really liked that one. || Then there's "Dancing with our hands tied". When I tell you I SWOONED. The Marcus in this one was really in-character (at least imo) and I really loved the pining between him and Reader. Jane really came through setting them up on that date, and them dancing around their feelings because professionalism was very 🥺🥺. But it all worked out in the end. Granted, he had to get shot at first, ~ 🍪
4/ but what kind of reader will say no to some well-written hurt/comfort? And at least now they're together and happy and figuring things out. Good for them! || I also read "Inamorato", and really enjoyed your version of Professor!Javi, especially the fact that the relationship was devoid of any power imbalance. Javi being a sweetheart was really adorable, and I felt for him when he talked about his nightmares and his fears of losing reader ~ 🍪
5/ (and when he worried about not being worthy of love 🥺) || And last but not least, "Basorexia" with Ezra. Okay, full disclosure here, I speak more than one language, and although I'm pretty comfortable in English (at least written English, we don't need to talk about my accent lol), I still struggle sometimes with the other two that aren't my mother tongue, so naturally this little one-shot spoke to me. But outside of that, I really loved how soft Ezra was in this, and how attentive ~ 🍪
6/6 he was of Reader. And him showing interest in the roots, as brief as it was, was really cute. All in all, I really like this one. And also, I get your struggle, I really do, but let me tell you that if you had told me that you were a native speaker I would've 100% believed you. Like, if there are any mistakes in your fics aside from the VERY occasional typo, I haven't noticed them. || Anyways, what I'm trying to say here is basically that you're an amazing writer. Have a nice day! ~ 🍪
LKASJDLKASJLKASJDLK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM BREAKING DOWN PLEASE BE QUIET!!!!!!!!! i can’t believe i got the cookie anon, i’m going to cry!!!
thank you so much omg???? you took the time to read some of my fics and comment all that, i’m so honored and flattered! thank you so so so so much 🥺🤧😭😩✨💖❤🤍
#this made my day 100% better#🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺#answered#cookie anon#nice people say nice things and it makes me happy
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THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; mun & muse - meme.
tagged by: @bxstiae thank u!!
tagging: anyone who wants to do this ♡
fill out & repost ♥ this meme definitely favors canons more, but i hope oc’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. multi-muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.
My muse is: canon / oc / au ( has au verses ) / canon-divergent / fandomless
Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO.
Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK.
Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK.
Are they underrated? YES / NO.
Were they relevant for the main story? YES / NO / MAYBE.
Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG.
Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO / MAYBE.
How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL.
How strictly do you follow canon? — pretty strictly. tbh i think i could do with a little more canon-divergence but i usually focus pretty hard on canon and diverging too far in my own muses, unless they were poorly written, tends to bother me.
SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals. — need a sweet country boy with a heart of gold who loves hard and fast and considers everyone he loves as part of his family ? how about a boy that can kick your ass to the sacred realm and back with his bare hands and a dizzying amount of strength ? how about a big friendly wolf that really doesn’t act all that much like a wolf but is big and soft and a really nice companion ? a boy that carries on and sees the best in people despite his trauma ? a boy who’s an absolute fucking dork and loses his mind whenever he sees a cat ? will smith poses @ link
Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?). — he’s the protagonist, he’s too nice, too likable, and he might be, from some perspectives, super overpowered. a lot of his flaws are issues that come with a lot of protagonist characters, like selflessness to a fault, recklessness, a desire to help no matter the cost, etc., and it might come across as overdone or unoriginal for someone like him.
What inspired you to rp your muse? — twipri has been my favorite video game of all time since i first played it the xmas after it came out, when i was 7. it was an unbelievably huge influence on my life, and got me through a whole lot of shit i’d have to go through up until i was a teenager. it was a constant for me, a comfort. and link, being the protagonist, was of course the center of it. i connected to him really hard, and becoming him whenever i played the game was like magic to me as a kid. honestly, i dont know why i didnt write him until this year, because he’s been such an easy headspace for me to slip into for years. ig i just figured it was about time? id already written both tp zel and midna at separate points, so it was only right to complete the trio ksjfgh
What keeps your inspiration going? — the game itself, its soundtrack, art, linked universe and its little fandom, and you guys! just seeing all of your posts and your passion for loz and its characters helps fuel the love i have for it too!
Some more personal questions for the mun.
give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.
Do you think you give your character justice? YES / NO.
Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO. ( i have. built up a lot of hcs about this boy over the years )
Do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO. ( i usually do write drabbles every now and then, idk why i haven’t for link yet )
Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES / NO.
Are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO. ( hmm i mean. i think i am, anyway?? i like the way i portray him, but i guess im sorta insecure about whether or not yall like my portrayal lmao )
Are you confident in your writing? YES / NO. ( more or less, it depends on the day. back when i was a Gifted Kid my Gift was writing, and i was literally always chosen to read things i wrote aloud at school assemblies and things, so i. very much have a love / hate relationship w it )
Are you a sensitive person? YES / NO. ( i mean. i try really hard not to be but :’^) )
Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal? — tbh, i don’t know?? i usually do with other muses, but bc twi is very special to me i have literally no idea how well i would take it. of course, if u do have criticism ( of the constructive sort, of course ), i still welcome it
Do you like questions, which help you explore your character? — yes!!! if you ever have anything you wanna know about twi and the way i write him, please ask!!!
If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why? — nope. unless it’s in the context of sharing hcs back and forth and building on each other or part of a friendly conversation, i don’t want to hear why you think i’m wrong. i still think about that personal that rb’d a hc i made a month or so ago and put in the tags all the reasons they disagreed w me and i wish i didn’t bc i hate it
If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it? — i?? dunno??? i guess i’d just tell them to unfollow. i’m not here to write link the way you think he should be written, i’m here to write him the way i want to.
If someone really hates your character, how do you take it? — hkljfg does anyone hate link??? like. he’s link. he’s neutral at worst. but it’s not my business if someone hates him, so to each their own ig
Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors? — mm i don’t mind it, but i don’t really see the point. rp is a form of writing that doesn’t need much editing, and when it does, we are our own editors, so of course we’re going to make mistakes and overlook them. english is a complicated and hard language, and typos/misspellings/grammar errors happen and it’s not a big deal
Do you think you are easy going as a mun? — yes!! i’m a very laid-back person in general i think, and of course i have things i won’t tolerate and i’ll speak up when i need to, but at the end of the day rp is a hobby, and it’s something we do to have fun, and i know that having fun is the most important part of doing this. though, sometimes i think my anxiety & fear of confrontation might make me a little too lenient on things like my own rules tho kjfhg
that’s about it, congrats for filling out!
#okaY sorry for all the ooc again today!! i feel like drawing so i think im gonna doodle some tonight but#if anyone wants to talk u can ask for my discord or pop into my ims!!#⸢ OUT. ⸥ i’m actually a cat person.#dash games tbt.
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I think I liked you better when you didn’t have a knife in your hand, Peaches... Chapter 200 - When I close my eyes
When Blake finds herself sold out to the Saviours by her abusive fiancé, she realises that she’s certainly not on her own anymore and finds an unlikely friend in Negan. And Negan does NOT like men who beat their girlfriends, one tiny bit….
Chapter 200 - When I close my eyes
[Brandon confronts Blake about his brother’s whereabouts, but is Blake quite able to handle that conversation so soon?]
--------------
Blake stared in horror at the man before her, the man from a life she had thought was long gone.
He was now a mere ghost from her past, a speck of memory, familiar and yet so foreign.
Brandon was stood before her, blue eyes searching her face, oh-so hopefully awaiting an answer to the question of his brother's whereabouts.
But Blake right now was floundering like a fish, mouth hanging slightly agape, still in shock.
For although Brandon had always been tall and blonde with piercing blue eyes just like his brother, he had always been slightly stockier than David, and was always seen with a large amount of facial hair.
But now, looking like he had lost a significant amount of weight in the last few years since the world had gone to shit, and now clean shaven too, Brandon bore a frightening resemblance to his abusive younger brother.
"B-Brandon," Blake managed to stutter out, as Brandon lifted his hand to the blonde's upper arm.
"I am so glad to see that you made it, Blakey," he said, the corners of his eyes wrinkling slightly as he smiled down at her, in that moment looking so very much like her deceased fiancé. The man Blake had murdered.
Blake felt her heart begin to race inside her chest, as flashes on those horrible moments where David had hit her, yelled at her, inflicted bruises upon her skin, appeared in her mind eye.
"A-And David, is he-"
But before Brandon could finish, Blake had shaken her head and taken a sudden step backwards, flinching away from his touch.
"I-I'm so sorry, I-I-I've got to go…" she just about managed to squeak out, hands trembling, looking like the epitome of a rabbit trapped in the headlights.
And as quick as a flash, knowing that everyone in the room was staring at her, Blake fled, with Brandon calling after her as she went.
The sound of his voice calling her name echoed after her in her ears as she hurried back across the Sanctuary back up the expansive staircases, finally reaching her and Negan's room just a few short minutes later.
Bursting through the door and shutting it closed quickly behind her, finally here, hidden away from Brandon and the ghost of her ex, Blake was able to breathe again.
She let out a shuddering breath of air, hanging her head for a second before sudden voice spoke behind her.
"Everythin' alright, Darlin'?"
Blake almost jumped out of her skin, turning and blinking several times, shaking herself, to see Negan sat there, a look of concern etched over his dark and handsome features.
He was lounging there now, on the bed beside a sleeping Mia, his back propped up against the headboard, t-shirt back on and large bare feet crossed one over the other. Obviously having somehow, by some miracle, managed to get the antsy toddler back into bed and to sleep.
It was then that Blake finally remembered what she had gone downstairs to fetch in the first place.
"I uh…I forgot Mia's milk…" uttered Blake in a distant sounding voice.
Negan pushed himself from the bed and got to his feet, strolling over towards her. And in a second Blake felt his fingers on her chin, tilting her face so that her gaze finally met with his.
"Somethin' happen down there, Doll-face?"
His dark eyes searched hers for an answer, but Blake right now didn't want to give one. She didn't want to admit that the brother of her ex-fiancé, the man she had murdered, was now stood just downstairs. After all this time, here. Just when Blake felt like her life was finally getting back on track. When her old life, a life before Negan, was just a faded memory to her.
But now here it was, her past coming back to blind her, to haunt her with the stark reality of it all. No longer black and white, but colour now. As clear as anything.
"No….I just…" Blake tore her eyes away from Negan's, and moved over to the bed. "...I got distracted talking to Tanya is all."
But it was obvious from his silence and the way he stared after her, jaw set, that Negan did not believe her.
Blake didn't dare look at him now. She would tell him tomorrow. When she had had a moment to think things over.
Bending over a sleeping Mia and brushing a tuft of hair back from her sticky cheek, Blake pressed a gentle kiss to the toddler's forehead, before standing up straight again and heading into the bathroom.
But she had only just made it to the door, when she felt Negan's strong hand on the crook of her elbow, guiding her firmly into the bathroom, out of earshot of the snoozing little girl.
Inside, he turned her around to face him, his face a picture of pure concern, a frown sitting between his thick brows and his eyes wide and sad looking.
"Peaches, Darlin', we really doin' this again? You keepin' shit from me?" he said with a shake of his head. "Look I know somethin' happened, You're as white as a goddamn sheet, and shit, Doll, I can see you're fucking shaking like a leaf."
With that, Negan reached for Blake's still trembling hands, grasping them tightly in his own.
Before she could stop them, Blake's eyes welled with tears.
Fuck. How was he able to read her so well?
"Peaches…" he sighed imploringly, swiping a tear, that dared to trickle down her cheek, away with his thumb.
Blake took a breath steadying herself, giving Negan's hands a squeeze back.
"Downstairs…Simon and Gavin…t-they just came back from their run-" Blake began.
But Negan scowled suddenly.
"I swear, if that stupid moustache-wearin' son of a bitch said anythin' to you, he is gonna feel the full weight of my fuckin'-"
"No, Negan," said Blake, freeing one of her hands from his and pressing it flat against his heart soothingly. "Simon didn't do anything."
Chewing on her lip, she wavered for a moment before continuing.
"Simon and Gavin, they brought a group back and…well…one of them…"
Blake dropped her eyes momentarily, before staring up at Negan again.
"One of them is David's brother."
For a moment or two, Negan didn't react. So much so, that Blake wasn't sure whether to repeat herself.
She was just about to open her mouth to explain further when Negan spoke.
"An', let me guess, this guy was askin' after ol' Davey boy? All concerned about his fuckin' whereabouts."
Blake swallowed hard and nodded.
As always, Negan had hit the nail on the head.
"An' I'm guessin' you haven't told him what happened?"
Blake let out a shaky breath.
"Haven’t told him that he beat seven fuckin' bells outta you, pushed you down a flight of fuckin' stairs, made you feel like shit each and every fuckin' day?" Negan continued.
A tearful Blake shook her head shamefully once more.
"I didn't know how to tell him-" she started, but Negan cut across her.
"You shouldn' fuckin' have to, Sweetheart. That son of a bitch should've fuckin' known what a piece of shit his damn brother was," said the dark-haired man sounding angry, his tongue reaching his back molars in a look of pure annoyance.
He was silent for a very brief second or two before he lifted his hand to cup Blake's cheek.
"Leave it to me, Darlin'," he said in a soothing voice. "By mornin' he'll be gone an' you'll never have to see that motherfucker again."
But at his words, Blake paled, frowning suddenly and giving a hurried shake of her head.
"No please don't," she said in desperation. "I need to tell him myself. I need to tell him what happened. I-I have to. David was his brother-"
Negan gave a sorry frown, gazing at her.
"Fuck that shit, Peaches," he said imploringly. "You don't owe this guy anythin'. An' after what that asshole did to you-"
Negan shook his head again, unable to finish his sentence.
Blake knew why of course. With the Saviour obviously unable to comprehend just how anyone would be able to do something like that to the woman stood before him. The woman he loved
"Please…" pleaded Blake. "Brandon at least has the right to know what David did. You're right. I don't owe him anything. But I owe myself it."
Blake sighed heavily.
"What David did to me, I thought I'd let it go, thought I'd moved on…but it's still there, when I close my eyes, when I think that everything's ok…"
She pursed her lips, gazing up at the dark-haired man before her.
"I just…I need to tell him, Negan."
Blake held her breath, waiting for Negan's reaction, but he was still. And it was only after a few short seconds that he let out a hard sigh of his own and pulled her to him, wrapping his strong arms around her.
"I know you do, Peaches," he said in a low voice, almost humming the words into her hair, as she tucked her head beneath his bearded chin. "Tomorrow though, alright? Shit, I can see that tonight you ain't in the right fuckin'' headspace tonight to be doin' anythin'."
It warmed Blake to know that despite Negan's initial anger at Blake's depressive incident after the loss of their child, he now understood what triggers had caused her to slip into that painful state of mind. Reluctant to let anything that hurt her, set all that off again.
Blake let out a sigh, pulling back from him and wiping at her own tear strewn cheeks.
"Yeah," she nodded, feeling her stomach lurch at just the thought of telling Brandon just who had been the cause of his brother's death. "Tomorrow."
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Sorry, not the most exciting chapter but I’ve just finished the first two weeks of my new job, so slightly distracted atm.
But yay, we made it to 200!! Thank you for all your support guys, it really means a lot that some of you are still reading after so long (even despite all my typos!).
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1/8 Hello. I'm the INFP from previous day and I would love to have your input for my Enneagram typing. I'm a woman in my late twenties. I personally relate to types 1, 4, 5, 6, 9 and since I grew up with a competitive father I also relate to type 3 on some level. However I don't relate at all to types 2, 7 and 8. I wish I was but I don’t.
2/8 My personality has very contradicting traits. I'm terrible at finishing things myself or being consistent but when I promise someone about doing something or when I have to be consistent for someone else, I’m very reliable. I pay great attention to rules most of the time. I always put carts back while grocery shopping, I meticulously follow rules while driving, I pay attention to typos, grammatical errors and spelling mistakes etc. I resent when people get away with not following the rules.
3/8 I have a very introverted personalty but I always make myself available when my friends need me. When I consider someone as a friend, it feels like a big commitment to me energy-wise, so I choose very carefully when I accept someone to my inner circle. I have 6-7 close friends who are like family to me, some from middle school, some from high school and some from the places I’ve worked so far.
4/8 I feel anxious and scared all the time. Bad experiences have huge effect on me. A bad flight resulted in a flight fear and anxiety, a bad thunder storm caused me to get worried every time ı see a rainy day prediction in weather forecast. However I still fly thinking that I wouldn’t let a fear take away all the pleasure of traveling and experiencing new cultures.
5/8 I read a lot and I’m also very interested in video games. I find the real world very unpredictable and harsh; so I think these are the ways which make me feel more in control. I prefer to watch finished TV series and I read spoilers when I get worried about my favorite characters to know what will happen to them.
6/8 My relationship with my family is very hard for me but I never let them feel it. They know me as the perfect daughter and they love me in their own way. I always obey them or when I don’t obey them I’m very good at hiding so they never know. For example, I didn’t tell them I drive everyday because they would worry, I hid my relationship for almost 5 years. They are very dramatic and they get angry easily, so I don’t like it.
7/8 I’m terrible at confronting someone. I always try to understand others and this stops me from getting in fights but also this stops me from getting what I want as well. For example if I get a different order than I requested in a coffee shop I generally don’t tell anything unless it’s something more expensive than the one I ordered.
8/8 I have a very turbulent personality but only my husband knows about it because I never let my feelings show to other people around me, not even my friends or my family. Simple things make very melancholic. For example Avicii’s song came up on the radio the other day and I felt like crying thinking that sensitive people always have hard time living in this world so they choose not to. I also relate a lot to songs written by Chester Bennington especially “Heavy”.
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Hi anon,
Thanks for the description! With the caveat that as always, typing people you don’t know is an imperfect process, I feel fairly confident that you are neither a 1 nor an INFP.
Nearly every one of the traits here that you mention fit ISFJ at least as well, if not better than INFP:
- an Fi sense of identity is influenced by other people - it’s impossible not to be - but I just don’t see how having a competitive parent would in any way make an Fi user, as a person, relate to enneagram 3 unless they themselves also identified as competitive (which you might be, but you mention your father and not yourself here).
- meticulousness, reliability, being detail-oriented, and rule-following are some of the few stereotypes of high Si that are actually true.
-The reason why meticulousness and rule-following are high Si traits is because high Si users prefer to understand things through that with which they are already familiar, and rules are a structure that helps with that. High Si users also like closure and while I try to avoid placing too much import on how people interact with fiction, your strong preference for shows that are already finished and wanting spoilers sounds like that need for closure. If it were a one-off trait I wouldn’t discount INFP, but in the context of the rest, this is further reinforcement of high Si.
-ISFJs are also introverts and feelers, so all the traits regarding introversion and sensitivity apply here. In particular your descriptions of the things that you find emotional fit better with an Fe sensibility than an Fi one.
- ISFJs are also (somewhat correctly) stereotyped as painfully nonconfrontational, which brings me to the enneagram section.
Enneagram 1s repress their anger but are often self-righteously very confrontational. They’re considered one of the more confrontational enneatypes. That does not fit with what you’re saying at all. I have no doubt that you aspire to be a good person, but 1 is a lot more than that. For example, the average 1 would probably confront their family if they felt their family would disapprove over something totally reasonable.
1 is really strongly correlated with low Fi, and I think a big part of it is that 1s are specifically interested in being the perfect person for themselves, not for others.
Based on what’s most common, enneagram 6 is worth looking at (I don’t know if you have diagnosed anxiety or just experience a lot of fears, but 6 is associated with generally wanting stability and fearing many unstabilizing forces).
Additionally, while I mentioned your description of why you relate to 3 as a sign of Fe, I do think it’s possible if your goal is to be valuable and perfect to others and your greatest fear is that you won’t measure up (specifically to your family).
Finally, I’d look into 9; this may be somewhat coming who I am as a person and somewhat cultural but you’re striking me as exceptionally nonconfrontational.
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