#but there are several things my sister doesn’t understand
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Happily Ever After (Ready, Aim, Shoot - Epilogue)
Hello!
This is the end of my serie Ready, Aim, Shoot but I really feel like you don't have to read the three other parts to understand it :)
Enjoy!
TW : None
(1) | (2) | (3)
Loving Alexia is easy. You know that your girlfriend is sometimes describes as someone shy, socially awkward, and sometimes too serious. Those people don’t know your Alexia. Your Alexia is sweet, caring, protective, loving, and attentive. She takes care of the people she loves; never lets you carry a shopping bag when she comes shopping with you and remembers everything you prefer since day 1.
And, as you look at your girlfriend coming out from the bathroom, you wonder how you are so lucky. She’s yours, she never left you when you were a mess and stay right here every single second. You are still recovering but you are way more in a healthy state than some weeks before. And not talk about when you came back from Middle East.
You needed some time to talk again to your former colleagues and way more time to talk to the families of the one who died. You went to the funeral of course, with Alexia, but some of them had kids or lovers and you didn’t have the strength to look at them in the eyes. And sometimes you imagined Alexia at their place, and you can’t imagine the pain. You asked her one time, how she would have reacted if you hadn’t come back alive.
She didn’t answer but explain to you how she reacted when she learned that you had an accident. And that she never loses faith in your comeback, because you promised, and you always kept your promises to her. You still have the necklace she gave you; it never left your body since that day.
Even when you go showering, even if your girlfriend teases you about it.
“What are you thinking about Cariño?” Alexia asks you.
“About my perfect girlfriend. Do you know her?” you smirk.
Alessia giggles and it’s a sound that she doesn’t let a lot of people hearing and you love it. Sitting on your lap, she passes her arms around your neck.
“Tell me more about her?”
“No, if I tell too many people how amazing she is, someone is definitively going to take her away from me” you smile before kissing her.
Alessia smiles against your lips, and you deepen the kiss, not being able to resist to the attraction you have for her. The hotel Alexia chooses offers you a lot of privacy. You have your private beach, jacuzzi and swimming pool. For eating, you can choose one of the restaurants in the area or to eat on the terrace thanks to the room service.
You have a lot of things to do here, swimming, going to the spa, sun tanning, going for an excursion or even diving. But for the first days, you almost didn’t leave your room, enjoying your room and the different facilities offered in it.
(You have a lot of amazing sex too.)
With your mental health getting better, you were able to finish your book and send it to several publishers before leaving for your holidays. You still haven’t had an answer, but you’re not really stressed. You know they probably have a lot of work and it’s the holidays, a lot of people aren’t working for now.
Alexia and you decided to forget a little your phone, you only take one hour during the day to do what you want. You usually answer to your friends and family and Alexia call her mother and sister.
That’s why you are surprised to wake up because of your phone buzzing on your nightstand. You manage to get out off Alexia’s arms to be able to take it and have a look on it. You frown when you see that this isn’t a number you already know. You get up, walking silently on the terrace.
“Hello?” you say when you far enough from Alexia.
“Hi. Am I talking to Y/N Y/L/N?”
“Yes, it’s me” you frown slightly.
You are stunned to learn that this woman is working in one of the publishers where you sent your book. And that they are interested in publishing it. You are still stuttering when a worried Alexia comes looking for you.
“Who was it?” she asks right before you hang up.
“A woman working for one of the publisher.” you mumble, still looking at your phone.
“And?”
Alexia seems stressed out like hell when you raise your eyes on her.
“They want to meet me when we come back to Barcelona. They are interested in publishing it.”
“What? Cariño that’s amazing!”
She’s smiling like she just wins another cup, and you can’t help but smile too. She’s right, of course it’s amazing. You just can’t believe it. Alexia takes you in her arms and makes you spin in the air. You laugh and pass your hand around her neck. She kisses you when she puts you back on the ground and you tiptoe to be able to kiss her in her neck.
“I’m sorry I woke you up though” you say after kissing her jaw one last time.
“It’s alright” Alexia smiles. “I’m used to be the one leaving bed first, it was a strange feeling waking up alone.”
“Well maybe you’ll stop leaving me in the morning now” you smirk.
Alexia chooses to not answer and just smile at you with malice. She doesn’t need a lot of sleep to feel rested and you sometimes envy her. She usually has done a lot of things when you wake up. Sometimes she made some calls for her job, she went running or has made progress on her various projects. Yes, because your girlfriend isn’t only a talented footballer, she makes other things too. You can talk about her foundation, More than eleven.
“Do you want to go to the restaurant to eat breakfast?”
You don’t really want to, to be honest. You would rather have only Alexia for you, being able to stare at her during the whole meal without passing for a creep. Your hesitation is easily seen by Alexia who is quick to add:
“Or we can stay here, just to two of us?”
“We can go to the restaurant if you want to. We haven’t seen a lot of people since we’re here.”
You shrug and smile slightly at her. She smiles back and take you by your hand to take you again in the bedroom. The light breeze makes the curtains fly when you enter the room again and Alexia takes the menu on the table to look about their propositions for the breakfast. You look over her shoulder, kissing it when your choice is made.
“I think I’ll take the one with avocado toast.”
Alexia nods and you sneak out to take a shower while she phones reception to place an order. You haven’t decided what you will do today, you know there is some excursion Alexia is interested about, so maybe you’ll join one.
Your heard Alexia coming inside the bathroom, even if the door is open very quietly and she makes almost not other noise when she gets out of her night clothes. You smile when she joins you under the shower, passing her arms around your waist and pressing her body against yours.
Your scares aren’t as visible as they were before, but you find confidence back for several times now, thanks to Alexia. She keeps telling you how beautiful she thinks you are, so you ended up believing her. You remember how you were studying her gaze and her face when she was telling you that kind of things, looking at any trace of lie. And how you looked at her when she saw you naked, looking for the slightest disgust. But nothing ever comes.
Your girlfriend seems to be sad when she tells you that you don’t have time to have fun under the shower, because of your breakfast being already prepared. But you know it will come at some point during the day, none of the both of you seems to be able to keep their hands away from the other.
“I wanted to talk about something with you” Alexia says slowly, when you are sitting on the terrasse, eating your breakfast.
You were looking at the sea being as far as the eye can see, but you report your attention on Alexia. She’s looking at you with a caution that intrigues you. She hasn’t look at you that way since a long time.
“Ok? Should I be worried or…?”
“I don’t think so” she smiles, and you feel relief almost immediately.
Alexia never lied to you.
You enjoin her to continue with a nod, posing your knife and fork next to your plate half-eaten. You are still very curious to know what can be in your girlfriend’s mind.
“I know I wasn’t really a lot at home lately, with my foundation and the others different things I was doing in addition of football” she begins “But now that everything is launched, I’ll be able to be home sooner and more. I’ll still have meetings or something, but I would be able to make it by video conference a lot.”
“Ok?” you answer, not really seeing where she went to go.
There is a moment of silence before she talks again.
“I want a baby.”
You blink several times, not really prepared to that. Sur you talked about having kids, but it was before your accident, and it doesn’t really come back in your conversations those past months. You were thinking that Alexia thought that you weren’t able to have a baby right now. Seems like you were wrong.
“I…”
“I know that maybe it’s a little bit precipitate because of what happened lately and that I was a lot away, but I swear that you always have been my priority and if we start the process to have one, I’ll be nothing more than my job at Barca and taking care of you.”
“Ale –“
“And I really think it’s the good moment. You’ll be able to write another banger while pregnant, I’ll install a desk on our room if you need to stay in bed. And I’ll cook everyday if you want me to.”
“My first book isn’t even published. And since when do you know the word banger?”
Alexia rolls her eyes and you smirk at her.
“What do you think?”
She looks almost shy, one thing she hasn’t be with you since your first dates. You don’t have to think about it for many minutes to be honest, you know she’s genuine about everything she just said. And you already can figure how much she will be protective over your child.
“Ok” you just answer.
“Ok?”
“Yes. Let’s have a baby.”
********
Alexiaputellas
Liked by mariona8co, marialeonn16, ona.batlle and 150,794 others
alexiaputellas Another Putellas is expected this summer🤍
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janafernandez3 My baby brother or sister 🥰
yourinstagram I love you 💜
yourinstagram
Liked by mariona8co, marialeonn16, ona.batlle and 80,794 others
yourinstagram Soon 👶🏼🍼
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alexiaputellas 💜🥰
claudia.pina I'm so excited for this
fan1 I want to know if its a girl or a boy 😭
Alexiaputellas and yourinstagram
Liked by mariona8co, marialeonn16, ona.batlle and 1,080,794 others.
alexiaputellas After 9 months of wait and 29 hours of work, you are here. I can't explain how much I love you and how I'm proud of your Mami.
Welcome to the world Alejo Jaume Putellas Y/L/N.
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jennihermoso the feet of a future great striker 👀
elialexiaalba 🩵🩵🩵
#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso fanfics#alexia putellas x reader#alexia x reader#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas
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#sorry for another rant yall#I love my sister dearly#and I hate being annoyed or upset with her for any reason#but she just ‘pranked’ me by telling me to order an XL fry at a fast food restaurant#she was on the phone with me#I said I kinda wanted a little bit of food with my ice cream#she told me ‘order the extra large fry’#I did because she said so#i didn’t know how large the XL would be#I thought it would just be a little bit more than usual#and really I just wanted a medium but I did as my sister said because thats what I do#but it was $10 instead of $5 like my regular order would have been#and it was WAYYY to much for me to eat#which would have been funnier if I wasn’t so sensitive#but there are several things my sister doesn’t understand#I weigh about 60 pounds more than her#when she orders something that is ‘family sized’ or XL they will assume she is sharing it with others#when I order something ‘family sized’ or XL they will assume im eating it all by myself#which is really fucking embarrassing for me#also#$10 for me is like $1.25 for her#she is so much more financial stable than I am#she is working a career job#she gets paid $30 and hour#and her and her husband rake in about six figures a year#I am working part time making $15 an hour. $10 is a lot for me#so I just lost $10 on something that i cant even eat#because I lost my appetite when I saw how much food it was#and she said ‘you can finish it! treat yourself! dont worry its okay to finish it!’#she doesn’t understand that if I ate all of that food I would hate my body for the next 8 weeks
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I explained Ragapom to my 17 yr old sister trying to brainstorm ideas for this next prompt for jesterdoll week and??? She looked me dead in the eyes?? And said ?? They just sound like good friends??? And when I asked her why do you say such bullshit??? She said cause they can’t be physically close????????? Cause they’re bodies aren’t real?????????? Historian younger sister core
#I show my sister things#shit posting ragapom#she doesn’t understand the severe appeal of not being able to touch your wife’s real body exclamation point exclamation point sad emoji#she doesn’t understand the appeal of such a asexual coded relationship#she doesn’t understand the appeal of being goddamn close and yet being so fucking far away#Im gonna fight her dw guys#I understand her pov but obviously we’re not on the same page yet
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Diner
A/N: My first darkfic and based on that one picture of Pedro in Freaky Tales. READ THE TAGS!!!!
Summary: You get more than you paid for during your visit to a roadside diner.
Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, non-con, degrading language, condescending language, blood and violence, threats of violence, forced masturbation, forced orgasm, forced creampie, reader does NOT enjoy this!
Word count: 3.3k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52941784
Diner
Something about roadside diners makes you feel like you are in an alternate universe. It starts the second that you step out of your car and onto the asphalt, a weird sensation of not being in the real world overtaking you as you listen to the cars drive by at a dizzying speed. There are a few cars here already, but you suspect that most of them belong to the people staying at the motel just next to the small and informal restaurant instead of people eating dinner. It is late after all, so late that you can see you are just in time for a coffee before they close.
You’ve been driving home in the summer heat for your sister’s wedding, crossing state lines for days now to make it in time, and it means quick dinners, cheap coffee, and sleeping in your car. At this point, you’ve actually come to like the greasy fried food and the coffee that almost resembles tar with how strong it is. It helps you regulate your body temperature in the car, forcing you to cool down because it’s scalding hot in your stomach.
A tiny bell rings as you walk through the door. The checkered tile floor seems slightly sticky as you move through the place with the taste of stale coffee already present on your tongue as if the setting has triggered a memory. You notice the single customer sitting in a booth along the window, all broad shoulders and sleeves rolled up as he eats two slices of toast with eggs and bacon, but you don’t think much of the man as much as you think about eating breakfast foods at night. It’s always oddly satisfying, weirdly rebellious.
You squeeze in between two chairs from the line along the counter. You brush away a few granules of sugar from it, smiling slightly as you are approached by what you assume is the only staff at this time.
“Just coffee?” The lady behind the counter asks as she notices you not looking at the menu and not checking out the pie underneath a glass dome to your left.
“That’d be great,” you reply.
“And no milk or nothin’?” She continues.
You shake your head no and look around at nothing of importance the second she walks away to start up the coffee machine. It gurgles a few moments later.
Behind you, the man has finished his meal. He gets out of the booth to use the restroom, leaving you to sip your coffee alone with the waitress who makes no effort to start up a conversation with you (then again, you don’t start chatting with her either).
Time passes. The song playing from the radio in the background ends. The stranger reemerges and shakes his hands dry on his way to his table again. He doesn’t sit but instead carries his plate to the counter.
“Thanks, Doris, great like always,” he smiles, turning to you briefly to acknowledge your presence. He nods in greeting.
“Anytime, Joel,” Doris blinks at him, batting her lashes. She is clearly infatuated, and you can understand why; the two of them seem to be about the same age. Joel is tall with broad shoulders in an open flannel with a t-shirt underneath, his hands look rough and used to hard labor, and his hair is slicked back by what you don’t know whether is gel or sweat but it looks like he has run his fingers through it several times today.
“Well, I’m off, see ya tomorrow,” he turns to go gather his things at the table where he has been eating. You think nothing more of it.
“Anything else, honey?” Doris asks and you shake your head.
“No thanks,” you say politely, “I’m all good.”
“I’ll have my smoke break then,” she states, untying her apron and hanging it on the wall only to proceed to dig out a package of cigarettes from the pocket on the front, “You can just leave the money on the counter when you leave.”
And then it’s just you and Joel and an eerie feeling settles in your stomach at being alone with a man you don’t know, especially in between cities and even moreso at night.
You glance over your shoulder to watch him carefully but he is just picking through his wallet to leave a tip on the table. You look straight ahead again and shake your head at how ridiculous you feel about your anxiety, rolling your eyes at how you could think such things about someone who is having eggs at midnight.
Still, something feels wrong. You steal another glance over your shoulder and see the table with the empty plate, and the crumbled bill beside it. What you don’t see is Joel, which is weird because you haven’t heard the bell from the door being opened and clo-
A rough hand settles on the back of your neck. It grips you hard until it hurts, causing you to crane your neck and gasp loudly into the room. Joel’s voice makes your skin crawl, “Fuck, you are pretty.”
You hear a deep inhale through the nose followed by a satisfied sigh, “Smell pretty too. Been driving all day alone?”
“What are you doing?” You are frozen to the spot. He has trapped you between the counter, two barstool chairs, and himself. The hand holding you in place is uncomfortable but mostly, its iron grip has started to make you lightheaded due to his thumb and index finger pressing into your carotid artery. It makes you not want to move in case he grabs harder.
“I just realized that I haven’t had dessert in a while ‘n’ pie just doesn’t seem to cut it,” he replies, breathing labored already from how he has control over what your body can or cannot do. The words make you squirm but you still, for some reason, haven’t thought about screaming for help.
“No,” your voice quivers and bravely you try to decline the offer, “I don’t want that. Please.”
“Afraid you’ll like it too much?” You can feel he has moved his head closer, can feel the smirk in his voice. You feel sick like you might actually puke if you weren’t working on an empty stomach.
“Doris’ll come back,” you reason.
“She’s closing up in ten,” he laughs as if it’s the most ridiculous thing he has ever heard, “She’ll use every second of those ten minutes to have what she considers fresh air but I don’t think we need much longer, do you?”
You whimper, and then suddenly you’re on the move but it’s not by yourself. No. Joel is hauling you backward, moving you around like you weigh nothing, and causing your feet to stumble several times. However, he doesn’t seem bothered by your clumsiness caused by terror, just uses a bit more force until he can shove you down onto an empty table.
That’s when you feel panic starting to rise in your body. You start thrashing, grabbing at whatever you can reach on the table to throw it down onto the floor and make a racket. You cry too, shock setting in and causing tears to flow desperately as emotions become too much. This is it, you think, this is what prey must feel when they’re trying to escape.
Joel growls in anger, holding you roughly in place so your efforts are to no avail, “Shut the fuck up. Stop crying.”
You absolutely don’t. That is until your forehead and nose connect with the surface of the table. Joel has pushed you on the back of your head so harshly that your face has been violently knocked down onto the table, and it hurts, prickling in your nostrils and nausea settling more in your stomach. The impact makes you feel dizzy enough to not continue fighting him.
A sudden taste of iron fills your mouth. You are bleeding from your nose, you realize, and it replaces the salty taste of your tears and drips onto the surface of the table. Pathetically, you try grabbing at anything in front of you and you end up smearing the bloodstains across the white. It’s not the sight that makes you gag but the fact that Joel seems aroused by it.
“Relax,” he responds to your whine, “‘tis just a bit of blood.”
But that’s not what causes your noise. It’s the position you are in; it makes your ass stick out and Joel’s crotch rests against it whilst he reaches out for your hair, bunching it up in his strong hand and creating a makeshift ponytail to tug on. You try to make sense of what is happening but all you can focus on is how big he seems in his jeans, rock hard against you as he yanks your head up by the hair. It may be your foggy mind’s way of protecting yourself from realizing what this is, particularly because you had a brief thought earlier about how nice his hands would feel if they touched you. They feel horrible.
When he straightens behind you, his free hand starts tugging on your pants. He is rough in his movements but careful enough to make sure that nothing rips, knowing he shouldn’t leave evidence of your ravish behind.
“Please,” you slur with desperation.
“No begging now,” he purposely misunderstands, “I’ll give you what you need real soon, sweetheart.”
When your pants sit around your knees, he lets the hand go down between your legs. Your mind is suddenly very clear.
“Are you a virgin?” He asks with a dark smile evident in his voice. His hand skims along the inside of your thigh, and you feel your feet trying to move away. His fingertips are so close to where you don’t want them. He kicks your ankles hard enough to make you unable to breathe, unable to balance on your feet so you can’t even try to flee.
You whimper in reply.
The satisfied growl he lets out sends a shiver down your spine, cold sweat making you feel lightheaded.
“No,” you finally manage to stutter out, trying to convince yourself that replying is going to make the heartbeat in your chest less intense as you’ve made yourself less interesting to him. Instead, you realize that you have only disappointed him.
“Just when I got my hopes up,” he tuts, suddenly palming your cunt through your underwear. You want to scream and cry but somehow, you simply cannot and it dawns on you that your body is too scared of making him furious to do your most instinctive act of fighting back, “Can’t say I’m happy, but I am surprised at having a whore on my hands. Wait till I tell the guys back home ‘bout you, they’ll be so envious.”
His fingers curl around the fabric of your panties. He tugs them down your thighs and the fabric snaps at the violent yanks that he does. It was only the pants, you think, it was only those that needed to be saved for keeping up appearances.
The way the skin of his hand touches your bare thighs feels like fire, and you don’t know whether to feel relief that nothing has happened yet or become hysterical when your underwear sits around your knees too; you know the rest, know what he is about to do and now, you just have to wait for it to be over.
And then briefly, it’s gone but you don’t dare think that he might have changed his mind but when you lift your head, you can see him in the reflection of the window, sucking on his own fingers to wet them until they’re shiny with saliva.
“Stay still,” he commands, and the hand on the back of your neck slides down so he can rest his forearm on the small of your back to still hold you down. His wetted fingers go right between your legs to search for your clit, and he presses down on it until you let out a whimper from a sudden state of arousal slowly taking over your body.
He rubs you off for a few minutes where you fight every single nerve in your body to not enjoy it but suddenly you let out your first involuntary moan, pussy starting to wet against your will and shame setting in. You rest your cheek against the table, tears sliding down over your nose as you occasionally moan helplessly. Your poor treacherous body burns deep below your navel, and the tingling in your core makes you think that maybe, just maybe, it won’t be so bad.
“That’s it,” he says in a gentle voice, a tone that makes you hold back a gag, “Knew you wanted it, just needed a little encouragement.”
“Please,” you sob, “I can pay you.”
“I don’t want cash,” he replies simply, sliding his digits through your slick, “I want you, sweetheart, and it seems this pussy wants me too.”
Joel’s fingers leave you and you hear him suck his fingers clean with a hum. The air feels cool against your swollen cunt which is so wet by now that you start to believe, albeit barely, that a part of you wants this. How can you say you don’t when you are close to dripping?
“I’m gonna let go of you now but if you try anything, I’ll cut your fucking tits off with a steak knife, got it?” Joel’s threat doesn’t seem empty.
You nod, paralyzed, and he stretches. You shiver at the sound of his belt unbuckling and his zipper being pulled down. There’s a bit of shuffling and then you feel the blunt head of his dick poking into your ass.
He doesn’t waste his time it seems, because he rubs the tip through your wetness and starts to breach you. Color drains from your face at the realization of his size.
“No, no no no,” you pant as he pushes into you. He teases you open but only at first; you let out a sharp cry as he enters you fully and with no warning. The head had been a warning of how big he was going to be but now that he is sheathed inside of you to the brim, you feel like nothing could have ever prepared you for his size even if you had wanted him. He kisses your cervix, splits you open, and your cunt clenches in an attempt to push him out and pull him in.
“Fuck,” he moans and draws out the word, “Tight heaven.”
He fucks you like a ravenous animal and you turn into a helplessly moaning mess, held down to the point where your hips are hurting against the table because Joel uses all of his weight to pleasure himself with you.
His fingers dig into your hips enough to bruise and his zipper gnaws into the back of your thigh. You have never taken anyone as big as him before, and it’s almost an out-of-body experience to be stretched out again and again by him. He swears above you, rhythm faltering, every time you accidentally find a shred of pleasure in his thrusts.
You feel fucked out of your mind but you are stuck there, having to take each bruising thrust that sends pain shooting through your body each time Joel’s cock bumps the back of your cunt (which is every other crash of his hips due to his size).
“Ah,” you whimper shamefully when he nudges against your g-spot. It takes some of the pain away, and soon, you let out a breathless gasp. Would you actually enjoy him if circumstances had been different? If he’d chatted you up and booked a room at the motel next door?
You close your eyes, squeezing them shut. It leaves you to focus on the way that your cunt squelches from your wetness, how Joel grunts behind you as he continues driving into you.
“Listen to that, you really think your whore-pussy would sound like that if you didn’t want this?” He taunts.
“No, Joel,” you say without any tone to your voice.
“You wanna come, sweetheart? Touch yourself,” he pulls you back by your hips a little until you are able to move your hand to your crotch. His thrusts relent and bring you relief from your throbbing and pained muscles. You don’t move, and he grows impatient and cruel. You almost want to laugh at the contrast of his next line but you find yourself too scared of the unknown, “You think you get a choice here, you little bitch? Do it now.”
Reluctantly, your hand slides down between your legs but you still feel relief as you start touching yourself. In the moment, you try to remind yourself of what you like to do when it’s just you alone and you find that your cunt stirs with interest. It’s followed by a string of ahs as you begin to actually enjoy it, circling your clit with determination to finish.
“That’s it, wanna feel you milk me,” his breath is more ragged now. He is close you realize, and he is not going to pull out.
It feels shameful when you make yourself come, cunt setting off into spasms that should feel beautiful but just makes you hate yourself for enjoying the way they make you feel. You moan louder than intended, completely at the mercy of the pleasure that has been built up deep inside of you and is now coursing through your nervous system.
Joel seems to understand your conflict, radiating claustrophobic warmth as he speeds up his hips as if he is using your body to masturbate with you. His voice is breathy as he talks, he sounds nearly on the edge of coming, “Shh… It’s supposed to feel good. It should feel good.”
He finishes inside of you a moment later, warm and sticky with a looming threat of what could happen from this act. The groan he lets out is one you don’t think you will forget. He gives you his final thrusts, fucking you through each spurt of his cock, “Take it, oh fuck. Thaaat’s it.”
Time stands still after that. You don’t move despite him removing himself from you. Instead, you listen to him tugging himself back into his jeans, the rustling of the denim, and then the noise of his zipper and him buckling his belt.
After a moment more, his hands pull up off your shredded underwear and then he tugs your jeans up over your hips again. He hauls you up and holds your arms tightly so you don’t fall over once more. You don’t look at him and it seems to infuriate him. With a strong grip around your jaw, he forces your head towards him, “Hey, look at me.”
When you still don’t, he shakes your head a little, “Eyes here.”
You eventually follow through, vision blurry from how much you have cried. He scans your face, “You don’t tell anyone about this or I swear. I don’t usually hunt down pretty girls like you but I will. You go into your car and you drive away. I’ll watch you from here. Got it?”
Your body aches as you nod but your expression is blank, even when Joel pushes you out of his grip so you stumble and even when you see him stuff your panties into his pocket.
“Go,” he snaps when you’re still immovable.
You don’t know how but suddenly, you’re walking out the door, barely noticing where your feet hit the ground, and doing exactly what he has said. You probably shouldn’t even be driving let alone on the highway but you do until you feel nothing at all except his come dripping from your aching cunt.
.
.
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#pedro pascal characters#joel miller x reader#joel miller#the last of us#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel x reader#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#joel miller the last of us#joel miller imagine#joel x you#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#my writing
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WIBTA if I told my sister I think she should put down her dog?
(cw: animal death, animal erection mention (I shit you not), suicide mention)
So, I (21nb) have a sister (Amelia, 23f). She’s been living with a friend for the past two years, but she still stops by the house every now and then. Most of the time, it’s just to drop off her dog (Max, toy poodle, 16?m) so that we (Dad and Mom, 63m and 55f, and Jamie, 25f) can dogsit him while she’s at work. We’ve already got three dogs of our own, and because both of my parents work full-time (and Jamie works from home part-time), I’m usually the one who has to take care of him during the day (along with our other dogs).
Unfortunately, because Max is an older dog, he has a lot of health issues. He’s mostly blind, fully deaf, and he has intense separation anxiety. He also bites when he’s startled, which is often because he’s deaf and blind. So most times he’s over he’ll pee in the house because he doesn’t know he’s inside, we’ll have to carefully pick him up and put him in the backyard so he can do his business, then stand outside with him so we can keep him from getting lost in a bush or bumping into a tree or freezing to death because he can’t find his way to the door, then we have to carefully pick him up again to bring him back inside. After that, he’ll often walk around the house while screaming because he can’t see or hear anyone and he thinks we’ve abandoned him. It’s hell to deal with, and I’ve had breakdowns on several different occasions while trying to deal with my other responsibilities and also keep him from screaming 24/7. When he’s not aimlessly wandering and screaming, he’s asleep in his dog bed for most of the day. It’s depressing to watch him so sad and unmotivated. He doesn’t know how to be a dog without her.
Recently, Amelia’s been dropping him off more often and for longer stretches. She works retail, so I can understand that her schedule is fucked most of the time. But she’s also been dropping Max off because he’s so overwhelming for her to deal with. He has the same issues when he’s at home with her, but he’s also like 10 times more energetic when she’s around (and he screams when she’s around but not holding him or giving him attention), which is hard for her to deal with after three days of back to back shifts. She’s called my mom before to ask us to take Max for a night just so she can get some sleep.
The most recent time Amelia dropped Max off, she said that he’d been having painful prolonged erections, and that we’d probably have to wipe his penis down with a damp washcloth to get it to go back in. Now, I’ve had dogs for most of my life, I’m not exactly a stranger to having to wipe down doggy nether regions (hell, I’ve dealt with so many clingons you could call me a starfleet ambassador). But having to do that for a blind dog who’s known to bite when he’s startled? Just the idea of having to hold him while someone else wipes makes me want to cry tears of frustration. I’ve already got two scars from him biting me, I’m not aiming for a third.
With all of his health issues, I’m convinced that it’d be much more humane to put Max down now rather than letting him (and quite frankly, everyone who has to take care of him) suffer indefinitely. But at the same time, he’s Amelia’s rock. She’s struggled with depression and anxiety all her life, and she was even hospitalized for severe suicidal ideation two years ago. She’s told me herself that some days, the only thing that gets her out of bed is having to take care of Max. I’ve had a dog like that before, and when he passed suddenly, it destroyed me for months. I’m worried that if Amelia did have to have Max put down, it might lead to her being hospitalized again, or worse. I can’t keep living with him, but at the same time, I can’t expect her to live without him.
TL;DR: my sister’s dog has many health issues that require special care, and I’m responsible for babysitting him while she’s at work. my sister has mental health issues, and taking care of her dog is both incredibly stressful for her and one of the few sources of joy she has. I believe it’d be more humane for everyone if she puts her dog down, but I also don’t want to take away one of the few things that makes her happy. Would I be the asshole if I told her I think she should put down her dog?
What are these acronyms?
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Listennnnn to be loved is to be seen
Buffy is SURROUNDED by people who project and project and project some more onto her without ever truly seeing her and just trying to force her to be whatever they want/need her to be often leaving her feeling used, abused, and lonely.
And so while yes on the surface the Buffy bot is icky as hell and obviously irl all of us would be rightfully horrified if that happened to us. This is fictional and with a still evil but trying to be good but with no human soul to help guide him on how to be good Spike - who has been rejected and is honoring that rejection and finding a solution to leave real Buffy alone by giving him a place to put all his feelings for Buffy somewhere that isn’t Buffy herself - programs her so well and therefore showing how well he sees and understands her!! NO ONE ELSE could have programmed that exact Buffy that was believable enough to fool her friends. So yes it’s twisted but this is a vampire falling in love with the slayer if you want completely healthy truly go elsewhere lololol but so the bot is used to show just how well Spike truly understands her and more importantly what he loves about her which given the partner she had right before this was Riley who VERY CLEARLY hated how strong she was and that she was the slayer…
spike is like SHE NEEDS A DEDICATED SLAYER FOLDER
HE PUT THE YEAR WILLOW CAME OUT IN HER BIO 😭😭😭😭 angel and riley truly could never in a million years pay close enough attention to the people in her life that Buffy cares about to add info like that
The choice of “make spike happy” instead of something like “pleasing spike” feels significant because it’s able to encompass a wider range of things including her care for her friends since that seems to be the active folder when she’s accessing information on them. Buffy caring about other people makes him happy even though he’s morally grey at best at this moment 😭 AND TWO KISSING PROGRAMS ARE THE VERY FIRST THINGS IN THAT FOLDER 😭😭😭 he doesn’t just “want to fuck her” like people try to claim he wants to love her 🥲 he wants her kisses like I’m gonna throw up from how disgustingly tender and heartbreaking that is
Buffy bot calls both her and Buffy very pretty and tells Giles he “should listen to the other Buffy because she’s very smart”. Spike made sure the Buffy bot was a Buffy that loved herself and valued her intelligence like I cannot even begin to tell you how NONE of this is your run of the mill making just a sex bot of your crush because not being able to have sex with them upsets you. He wants to love her because he knows she needs it as much as he wants to give it to her
We have this moment where Buffy bot has finally found Spike who she’s been looking for and worried about the whole time and seemingly only cares about him and no one else and she sees he’s SEVERELY injured yet when Giles calls for help Buffy bot responds at the same time as Buffy does and runs to his aide leaving Spike like she’s still just so BUFFY at her core even if the superficial aspects have been changed 😭
if we compare this moment to the one in something blue where xander calls out for help in the crypt in an IDENTICAL situation yet ACTUAL BUFFY just continues to make out with Spike when he’s not even injured at all 💀 like Spike didn’t even give Buffy bot the “extra love sick” component Buffy herself exhibits for him on multiple occasions 😭
and of course - WE END WITH THIS KISS AND THE WAY SHE’S FUCKING LOOKING AT HIM BRO 😩 she’s like holy shit he was for real when he said he loved me no one has ever done anything like this for me while simultaneously showing how COMPLETELY loyal and obsessed they are and how well they know and love all of me AND my sister like
‼️I CAN DEPEND ON HIM‼️
So close to death even Xander is feeling sympathy for him yet clocks IMMEDIATELY it’s her and she’s just like hi 🥹 yes it’s me, I really just did that. I see you and what you did for me. HAVE HOPE KEEP TRYING DONT GIVE UP.
If Buffy loves you she forgives you pretty easily and I personally think that’s what we’re seeing here with Spike like kissing him in the same ep she learns of the Buffy bot is low key CRAZY 😹 but truly people who have done less for her have done far worse!!! The bot kept dawn and tara from being taken instead and he proved he would protect both of them with his life and like she already loves him which is why she even went for the kiss she was like REALLY THE SITUATION CALLS FOR IT WHAT’S A GIRL TO DO 🤷🏼♀️
#this post all started literally just from noticing the gay 1999-present 💀#spuffy#embarassing freak couple#spike and buffy#spike x buffy#spuffy season 5
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falling for a girl in purple & gold.
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x F!Reader
summary: your brother convinces you to join him at his tailgate. you meet a gorgeous blonde, who happens to root for the opposing football team.
t/w: lots of mention of alcohol. she/her pronouns. cursing. instalovey.
a/n: i’ve been dying to write something like this. this fic is def based off megan maroney’s ‘tennessee orange’ and conner smith’s ‘orange & white.’ i left readers school pretty ambiguous until the verrrrrry end. i’m an lsu girlie 💜💛 so i needed a little self-service.
Stepping into the tailgate tent, nostalgia fills your body. You are transported immediately back to your time in college. Cheering on your alma mater with your sorority sisters. Hooking up with those random frat guys who definitely showed you a good time. You’d have to remember to thank your brother for making you come.
“Sis!” Speak of the devil. Your brother envelops you into a huge bear hug, as if he didn’t see you one week prior at your family’s standing dinner date. You return his hug.
“I am so glad you made it!”
Your brother began introducing you to several of his friends who were taking up space in the tailgate tent. If he doesn’t know them from his fraternity days, then he knows them from the Navy.
“Two more guys are planning to show,” your brother says. “Guys from my time in Miramar.” You understand this to mean from his time at TOPGUN.
Lucky for you, you’ve been schooled in all things naval aviation thanks to the burly guy you call a brother. There was no way he was going to have a sister have zero knowledge about the Navy.
His words, not yours.
Leaving you to ponder, your brother begins mixing drinks. He hands you his “special” after a few minutes. His special being vodka, with a tiny splash of sprite and cranberry juice.
You take the drink from him, raising your brows.
“It’s the first tailgate of the year, sis. Go big or go home.”
You’d much rather go home than consume a ton of alcohol in this heat.
“Well if it ain’t Bozo!” you hear a deep voice call, with a sliiiiight country accent.
“Hey guys!” your brother calls with the enthusiasm of a kid who just unwrapped a PS5 from under the tree. “I’m glad y’all made it.”
You turn and take in the source of that accent, and almost spill your drink. Your brother never told you he was friends with Adonis.
His blonde hair fans out at his neck, beneath a nice Stetson, like he’s skipped a few haircuts. A pair of jeans hug his hips, and across his chest, the school colors of the enemy.
University of Texas. You were sure that burnt orange wouldn’t look good on anyone, but this man is proving that notion wrong. Your eyes lock with his, and he makes sure you see his eyes trail down your body.
When those green eyes meet yours, he drops his right eye in a slow wink.
“Bozo, I didn’t know you colluded with the enemy,” you say to your brother, nodding toward the handsome blonde.
“Ah, well,” Bozo starts, rubbing his hand behind his neck, “not everyone is perfect.”
“What do they call you?” you ask the blonde, not being able to take not knowing his name any longer.
“Hangman.” He fixes you with a gorgeous smirk, and tips that cowboy hat.
“Hangman?” you question, cocking an eye brow.
Those eyes peer into yours. “Yes ma’am.” The way he says those two words has you thinking of all the instances he could say them in.
“What do they call you when you’re not flying a plane?”
“Jake. And your name, pretty lady?”
“Y/n.” You stick a hand out toward him. Jake reaches forward, taking your hand lightly into yours. The two of you stand there, shaking hands for what feels like an eternity. Neither one of you wanting to break the contact.
“Fuck, Bozo. You never mentioned how beautiful your sister is,” Jake says to your brother, but never taking his eyes off you.
“Because you’re a fucking playboy, Bagman,” he says.
“Funny,” Jake comments.
And you’d gladly let him.
“A playboy, huh?” You quip.
Jake shrugs a shoulder. “Maybe I just haven’t met the right lady yet.”
The way he peers into your eyes has you sipping your mixed drink in order to hold some of your sanity. This man has the potential to ruin you.
And you’d gladly welcome it.
Grabbing his hand, you pull him toward the beer pong table. “Be my partner.” You fix him with one of your award winning smiles.
“Anything for you, darlin’,” he drawls. Gah, that accent is gonna be the death of you. The two of you fall into a steady rhythm, beating your brother and another aviator, Rooster, effortlessly.
Jake holds up his hand for a high five. When your hand meets his, his fingers lace between yours. He pulls you into him. You can’t be sure if the vodka is making you lightheaded, or the way your body feels pressed against his.
“I’m having the time of my life with you, sweet thing,” he says into your ear. You giggle into his chest. You actually giggle. You’ve never giggled in your life.
“What would you say if I needed to kiss you?” Jake asks against your temple. Spying your brother working the makeshift bar, you grab Jake’s hand. You lead Jake down an alley situated between two class buildings.
“I’d say, kiss me, Hangman,” you say, grabbing his ugly, orange jersey to pull him toward you. One of his hands braces his weight against the wall, just outside your shoulder. He has you completely caged in, that strong body hovering over yours. Jake reaches up to pull his hat from his head. He casually holds the hat up, blocking anyone from seeing the two of you.
Between Jake’s kisses and your brother’s mixed drink, you’re feeling all kinds of good. Not wanting any of it to stop, you grip his jersey tighter, pulling him as close as you can get him.
A low groan escapes his mouth, and the fact that he’s seemingly affected by you the same way you are by him has you reeling.
“A gentleman would at least take you out first before kissing you like this,” he murmurs.
“Oh yeah?” you question, not really letting his words soak in.
“Mhmm. Too bad I am not feeling too gentlemanly, right now.” Jake deepens the kiss, and your hands leave his jersey and thread through his hair.
“Good,” you breathe.
Your watch buzzes, pulling you from Jake’s tantalizing kisses. Taking a peek, your brother’s name appears across it.
Where the fuck are you? We have to go into the stadium.
Jake pulls his phone from his back pocket. “Bozo,” he murmurs.
“Where are your seats?” You ask, still breathless from his kissing.
“Next to you,” he says, placing once more kiss to your lips. Pulling you from the wall, he plops his hat onto your head.
“Fuck, my dads going to be so pissed I’m falling for a girl in purple & gold,” Jake says shaking his head. “Lead the way, darlin’.”
#top gun maverick#top gun#top gun maverick fic#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x you#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin fluff#jake seresin x oc#jake seresin#jake hangman x reader#hangman top gun#hangman x you#hangman oneshot#hangman x oc#hangman x reader#hangman seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin
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Hi I really enjoyed your writing and i recently got interested in Tmnt and Rottmnt due to my sister watching the shows. I wondering if you can make headcanons about Rottmnt brothers as yanderes but the brothers more in tune with their turtle instincts. Like the yandere brothers try to court their darling but them not understanding and this frustrates the brothers. Thank you taking the time to look at this and I hope you are doing okay.
A/N, not important: You're so sweet, and this ask genuinely made me feel really happy. Although, just a quick disclaimer, I kind of took creative liberty with this because '"turtle instincts" are basically mate and leave, so.... Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.
-Ollie
CW: not very intense yandere(imo), possessive behaviors, territorial behaviors, animal instincts, biting, forced contact, dark themes
Words: 906
Summary: ROTTMNT with more turtle-ly instincts
Tag list: @f1oricide @itsyagurlchip @lordfreg @acutiewithagun @rottmnttmnt2012 @lixnininotnay @lexiechr @ssak-i
Michelangelo:
He’s somehow ever more clingy, constantly rubbing his cheeks against yours or resting his chin on your shoulder. He likes to have you with him, hissing or snapping his beak when you try to pull away.
He’s very vocal with you, constantly chirping happily or churring as you both cuddle, or giving off a high-pitched hiss if you’re doing something he doesn’t like. He doesn’t mean to, and he finds it slightly embarrassing.
Head butts you for attention. If you’re avoiding him, or doing something by yourself, he’ll just lean against you and softly knock his head against yours to silently voice his displeasure. He doesn’t like when you’re not paying attention to him, or hanging out with him. He wants to be involved with what you’re doing, and the easiest way he’s found is to just knock heads.
Lays in your lap and just retracts into his shell when he’s tired. He’ll just push himself onto you before disappearing into his shell, completely content. He knows you won’t move him while he’s tucked away, which gives him even more of an incentive to do it.
Box turtles have a homing range, which is the only area they’ll be in their entire lives. Mikey hates having you leave what he considers his range, growing agitated every time you mention going farther than the distance that spans his ‘territory’. His range would probably be all of New York, but if you ever mention leaving the state, Mikey won’t be happy. Not that you could ever leave him anyways, but just the thought makes him feel on edge.
Donatello:
More territorial with you. You’ve more or less been integrated into his space and become what he considers ‘home’. He doesn’t like leaving you for long because you’re his space, his happy place.
Bites you randomly, especially when you’ve annoyed him. He has a strong bite, so he tries to hold back from accidentally severely injuring you, but he can’t help chomping when you push his buttons or try to leave.
He likes to be in the water with you. There’s most likely some form of clean water, pool–esque area in the lair, so sometimes he’ll just drag you over and lay in the water with you. He’s an aquatic turtle, and the water is soothing to him. If you can’t swim, or just really don’t like to be in the water, he’ll situate you on his chest or back as he floats on the surface.
Drags you under piles of blankets and pillows to cuddle with him. Since he can’t burrow, nor truly wants to, his blanket forts are the next best thing to him. He’ll always have some premade pile of soft things somewhere, either in his room or lab. If he wants attention, or to just be near you, he’ll drag you under the pile with him and just hold on tight.
Raphael:
More territorial of you, doesn’t like you leaving his sight. He can protect you when you’re near him, but if you wander off, he’s basically helpless to help you. His worry and his need to keep you safe causes him to keep you close at all times.
Aggressive when you’re with others. Because of his more territorial nature, he hates seeing other people near you or interacting with you. He doesn’t trust anyone else, which ends up with him usually intimidating or fighting everyone you're close to into leaving you alone.
Bites you randomly as you’re laying with him. Whether he’s holding you close and suddenly chomps on your shoulder, or is just talking with you before biting at your hand, it doesn’t matter. He just has the urge to bite you, almost like he’s teething. He tries to not do it hard, especially since it’s usually your shoulder/neck, but he’s left teeth imprints before.
Like to just grab you. He’ll just wrap his arms around you in a hug, or rest his hands on your shoulders. He tries to not accidentally grip too hard, but he can’t help but hang onto you when he’s feeling lonely.
Leonardo:
Likes to touch your face and drum his fingers over your cheeks. If you pull away, he’ll get upset because it’s just one of the ways he shows his love. If you keep trying to get him to stop, it’ll only make him do it more often because he feels like you’re rejecting his love, rather than the action. Usually churrs softly as he flutters his fingers across your skin in an attempt to make you accept it.
Basks on you. If you’re laying down on the couch, he’ll lay on top of you and completely stretch out, especially if there’s some light source shining on you both from nearby.
He likes being able to lay on you and warm up, finding you cozy as well as appreciating the fact you can’t exactly get away from him. You’re right there with him, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
Nips at your fingers if they’re in front of him. Like if you’re holding his cheek, he’ll nip and kiss your palm. He never bites hard, usually only nibbling on your skin while holding you.
Very vocal, constantly churring or rumbling while with you. He doesn’t usually hiss at you unless you’re actively trying to get away from him. He’ll nuzzle his beak against your face while churring, unable to stop the habit.
#rottmnt#tmnt#rise of the tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt donnie#yandere tmnt#yandere rottmnt#rise leo#yandere donnie x reader#yandere donnie#mikey x y/n#gender neutral y/n#yandere#tw yandere#male yandere#yandere raph#yandere raph tmnt#yandere leo#yandere leonardo#yandere headcanons#tmnt yandere headcanons#rise donnie#donnie x reader#donatello hamato#rise raph#raphael#raph rottmnt#raph tmnt#yandere mikey
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episode one: the vanishing of will byers
Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you.
“So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?”
Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead.
summary: jonathan smuggles you free food in exchange for friendship, will goes missing the one time you listen to jonathan, hopper doesn't really like you, and steve harrington almost hits you with his car as you're sobbing like a damn baby (in a cool way).
rating: general, although there's plenty of cursing and slight innuendos, so fair warning.
warnings: cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.
words: 7k
before you swing in: hello ! this is the first chapter of my come home series, where i plan on rewriting the entirety of stranger things because i really love a good rewrite fic and this is me just indulging in my ideal fic fantasies tbh. before we start: this is a steve x reader fic, however there will be some slight feelings between the reader and jonathan because, but it doesn't at all get in the way of steve and honestly just adds to the angst because i love a good tragedy. also, reader is dustin's older sister, but i tried to write her as neutral as possible in terms of physical features, so let's all just play along. that is all ! i'm very excited for this series and i hope y'all enjoy her as much as i do :)
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November 6th, 1983
Your shift at Bookstrordinary ends at 8:30 tonight, so as soon as you’ve organized all the books within the store and cashed out the last customer, you say goodnight to your boss, Mrs. Waters, and clock out. Today had been a longer shift, and it didn’t help that you had to deal with a particularly eager bookclub mother who insisted that you had the latest copy of some obscure novel that she needed for her club. After several attempts to inform her that no, you really didn’t have some novel about a cowboy falling in love with a rodeo girl from Michigan, nor would you ever want to read that, the mother angrily walked away.
You’re happy to finally be free from work though, excited to see Jonathan to tell him about the book club mom because you know he gets a kick out of those suburban middle class mothers that terrorize Hawkins. He works across from you, at The Hawk theater, and it’s one of your favorite things about the bookstore. Besides getting to be surrounded by books all day and reading Spider-Man, you get to be across the street from your best friend and share frequent breaks together.
A bell signifies your arrival at the theater, alerting Jonathan to look up from the concession stand and smile at you. He looks tired, which you can understand. It’s been a particularly long school year so far with Jonathan having to work more shifts than usual to support his family.
“Welcome to The Hawk, can I interest you in our specialty popcorn and candy corn mixture?”
You make a face, “No, thanks. Candy corn freaks me out.”
Jonathan laughs, knowing you’d say that. It’s been a running joke between the two of you for as long as you can remember. You’re not picky with most foods, but candy corn? The bane of your existence. “Tough crowd, then.”
You laugh as well, now standing in front of the counter, and you learn against it so that you’re in Jonathan’s space. After being friends for so long, personal space doesn’t exist between the two of you. You’re the only person that Jonathan lets get this close to him on a regular basis, which you’re secretly proud of.
“So, you almost done so we can pick up our idiotic brothers?” Tonight, as usual, Will and Dustin are at Mike’s house playing DnD. They’d biked over as soon as school let out, while Jonathan drove you to work, so he was your ride back for the night.
He shakes his head at you, wincing, “I picked up an extra shift tonight. Stacy called out sick, and it’s good money…”
You nod in understanding. He doesn’t have to explain himself to you, which he’s always relieved by.
“It’s okay. Is my bike still in your trunk?”
“Yeah, I can get it out for you since I’m kind of ditching you tonight.”
You wave him off, already reaching across the counter to grab his keys from his coat pocket. “No need, I’ll get it out myself so you don’t get in trouble with your boss.” Jonathan’s boss is an older guy, extra scary. “I’m assuming that I’m taking Will home tonight?”
“It’ll be late by the time you get the boys, and you’ll have Dustin. We only live a couple blocks apart, you can just bike with Will until you get to your street.”
“Are you sure? I know he’s scared of the dark.”
“It’s fine, Y/N. You’re already doing enough being there for most of the ride; I’m sure Will can survive the last five minutes alone.”
You give Jonathan an unsure look, but you don’t argue with him. He’s his brother, he knows Will’s capabilities, and it’s an unspoken fact that you baby Will a bit too much. He’s just so much tinier than the other boys, softer in a way that you want to protect. He’s special.
Jonathan sneaks you a large peach lemonade and hot dog from the concession stand when you return with his keys. You’ve parked your bike up front, and you accept the food gratefully. You hadn’t had time to eat your usual dinner during your break due to the bookclub mother fiasco, so you inhale the food quickly and give his hair a ruffle.
“You’re a lifesaver, bee.”
Jonathan lightly hits your hand away from his hair. “Consider it your payment for dealing with Will and Dustin on your own tonight, bug.”
Bee and bug were the names the two of you had given each other years ago. Jonathan had started it with bug, stemming from the fact that you love Spider-Man so much, and you had struggled to come up with your own nickname for him. Then it came to you: bee, or B, for Byers. It was perfect, and you’re still incredibly proud of yourself for the creativity, honestly.
After your quick dinner, you say goodbye to your friend and head off. It’s late now, nearing 9, and you hope that Mrs. Wheeler and your own mom won’t be too upset with you for being late for pick up. You know they prefer to have the boys in bed by a decent hour, but in your defense, Jonathan did skip out on you.
You arrive at the Wheeler’s in a short amount of time and knock on the door. Your cheeks are flushed from the early November cold, and you’re regretting that you only put on a thin sweater and jeans this morning.
Mike answers the door, giving you a dirty look. “Did you have to come early?”
“I’m actually later than usual,” you sidestep him, making your way into his house; you’ve become used to Mike’s attitude. “I take it the campaign is still ongoing?”
“See, mom? Even Y/N understands how long a good campaign can go on for!” Mike waves his arms at you, as if to signify to his mother the importance of your understanding.
Mrs. Wheeler ignores her son to greet you kindly, albeit a bit exasperated. “Hello, Y/N, please come in.” Then she turns to Mike, giving him a stern look. “Mike, why don’t you tell Y/N how you boys have been playing for ten hours? I’m sure she’ll be understanding then.”
“You guys have been playing for ten hours?”
Mike looks down in embarrassment for a second before turning to his father for help. You laugh a bit at his enthusiasm and see a faint smile on his mom’s face as well. Quietly you excuse yourself to go downstairs to find the other boys, and Mrs. Wheeler wishes you luck.
Everyone always acts like the boys are some giant pain; truthfully, you enjoy them. Sure, they can be a handful, but they’re just kids; it’s hard for you to ever stay mad at them. Plus they like you, so it makes dealing with them easier.
Lucas, Dustin, and Will are running around the basement when you get down there, frantically searching for something. You hear Lucas inform Will that if Mike doesn’t see something, then it doesn’t count. The urgence in his voice amuses you; you’ll never fully wrap your head around why they take DnD so seriously, but you love that they can enjoy it with each other.
Dustin is the first to see you. “Y/N!”
The other boy’s heads turn to you and they greet you with enthusiasm as well. Will rushes towards you for a hug, which you gladly accept. When you break apart, Lucas gives you a high five and asks about a comic you’ve put on hold for him at the store.
“Any luck?”
“Sorry, Sinclair. It’s still sold out, but the second it’s restocked I’ll smuggle one for you.”
“Sick!”
Dustin walks over, now in his coat and holding a pizza box. “Want a slice?”
You decline, informing him that Jonathan snuck some food for you. At the mention of his brother’s name, Will asks where he is. You tell him that Jonathan had to cover a shift and that you’ll be taking him most of the way home tonight.
As you all make your way upstairs, you notice that Dustin continues up to the second floor. Lucas notices too, and the two of you share a knowing look.
“Still have a crush on Nancy?” You ask, already knowing the answer.
“Yup.” Lucas responds, smiling in disappointment.
You wait for your brother outside, helping Will with his coat and listen to Mike’s rambling about the campaign. Lucas is already on his bike, ready to go.
“There’s something wrong with your sister.” Dustin declares when he finally returns.
Mike looks at you, then at your brother, confused. “What are you talking about?”
“She’s got a stick up her butt.”
“Dustin!” You berate. Nancy isn’t your favorite person, but she’s always been nice to you the few times you’ve interacted. You guys used to be closer when you were younger, but high school has a way of distancing people.
“Yeah,” Lucas now speaks up. “It’s because she’s been dating that douchebag, Steve Harrington.” How the hell does Lucas even know about that? You didn’t even know about that until just now.
“Lucas! Language!”
“Yeah, she’s been turning into a real jerk.”
“Dustin, I swear to God-”
The boys ignore you, which you’re honestly not surprised by. While they may like you, that doesn't mean that they listen to you. On a good day they maybe listen to you 25% of the time, but tonight was clearly not a good night.
Mike finally cuts in, “She’s always been a real jerk.”
“Hey, she’s your sister. Give her some credit-”
Dustin is now the one who cuts you off. “Nuh-uh, only you get the sister leniency, Y/N. Nancy used to be cool, now she isn’t.”
“Remember that time she dressed up as an elf for our Elder tree campaign?” Lucas asks, almost reminiscent.
You shudder at the way he says it, and you shudder more when you see the dreamy look in your brother’s eyes. “Yeah, I remember…”
“Gross,” you huff at your brother, now hopping on your own bike.
Lucas and Dustin begin to pedal away, and you call after them to wait up. Will is still with Mike, and you promised Jonathan you’d get him home. You give the boys a bit of space, waiting a few paces ahead. Will has always been shy around Mike, something that you’ve tried not looking into too much, but to be safe you give them some privacy.
Faintly, you hear Will say, “The Demogorgon, it got me.”
Lights flicker a bit, but you’re too focused on the slight unease you feel by Will’s words. Before you can think too much about them, he joins you. “Race you up to Lucas and Dustin?”
“You’re on,” you tell him.
Will beats you to the boys (which you let him do), and you’re out of breath. The four of you bike in silence for a bit until you reach Lucas’s turn into his neighborhood.
“Good night, ladies.” He says, and you don’t need to be a psychic to know what your brother’s response is going to be.
“Kiss your mom ‘night for me.” Bless him.
You and Will giggle together, and Dustin smirks at the two of you, proud. He sits in the praise for a few moments before challenging you and Will to race home with the promise of a comic for whoever wins.
“I call last year’s Black Cat issue of Spider-man!” You call out, already biking away from the boys.
“We didn’t say go!”
Dustin and Will call after you as they try to catch up, and within a few seconds the three of you are speeding down the hill towards your home. You laugh gleefully, enjoying the way the wind whips through your hair and the way Dustin, though annoyed by your early start, laughs alongside you with Will.
Somehow Will is the one who wins the race, which you’re impressed by. He may be small, but he’s surprisingly good at winning when it comes to a competition. Dustin shouts at Will that he’ll kill him, which makes you send a warning look at him.
“I’ll take your X-Men 134!” Will retaliates, still flying through the street.
You and Dustin are now stopped at your mailbox and you take a moment to catch your breath before shouting at Will, “Be careful, please! Stay safe!”
“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night. Dustin has already gone inside but you wait to follow, only going inside when you can no longer see Will, hopefully home safe and sound. You feel fear creep upon you, but you chalk it up to your usual worry when it comes to the boy.
He’ll be okay, Jonathan should be home within the hour.
–
The next morning you’re frantically biking to school, pissed off at Jonathan. He’s your ride every morning, or everywhere, really, and for the second time in 24 hours he’s bailed on you. Dustin left for school ages ago on his bike, so you’re thankful he doesn’t see you embarrassingly sweaty and gross as you race to school.
It’s not that you’re pissed that Jonathan bailed again, you’re pissed because he didn’t even have the nerve to call you ahead of time to warn you. Now you have only ten minutes before the first bell rings, and your sweater clings to you uncomfortably as you sweat.
You make it to school with a few minutes to spare, so you quickly make your way over to your locker to grab the necessary books for the day. You’re still sweaty, and you don’t want to even think about what your hair looks like right now. You look down the hall towards Jonathan’s locker, still not seeing him, and you begin to worry a bit. Maybe he overslept after last night’s shift?
A body crashes into yours, sending your notebooks spiraling to the ground. Steve Harrington looks at you sheepishly, only saying a small “whoops!” before continuing his fast pace towards the girl’s bathroom. You scoff, now even more annoyed with your entire morning, picking up your stuff as you see Nancy enter the same bathroom a few moments later.
“In a public school bathroom?” You mutter in disgust, collecting the last of your things and heading to class.
You decide to give Jonathan until second period, sophomore English which the two of you share, before you freak out. You know you have a problem with over worrying about the people you love, so you try to calm yourself down. While Jonathan has never been the type to cancel without at least calling first, you reason with yourself that everyone has a bad morning. He simply slept in too late. When he wakes up, he’ll come to school and he’ll be sitting in the seat next to you in English.
Except Jonathan isn’t in the seat next to yours when you enter the classroom an hour later. Now you officially let yourself begin to worry. Something about this doesn’t feel right.
You’ve never skipped class before, school has always been important to you. You’re the top of your class with hopes of running away from Hawkins with Jonathan to a big city with an even bigger university. However, you don’t even hesitate to flee the classroom and find the nearest phone in the school to call the Byers’ residence.
Jonathan answers after a few rings, and the words that leave his lips change your life forever. “Will is missing.”
You feel all the air in your lungs be knocked out of you. You can’t breathe and you sway a bit as your knees threaten to give out. This isn’t real, this can’t be happening.
“What?”
“Will, he-he’s gone, Y/N. We can’t find him and-”
You don’t hear whatever else Jonathan says. You struggle to get air back in your lungs. Will isn’t missing, you just saw him last night. Mere hours ago Will laughed next to you, face alive with joy, he hugged you and joked along with you.
“He didn’t come home last night-”
“He didn’t come home?” Jonathan’s words catch your attention and you feel bile rise in your throat. Will didn’t make it home last night. You were the last one to see him, and the realization crushes you; it’s all your fault.
“Mom and I just searched the woods, and there’s no sign of him and-” Jonathan is rambling now, his own fear and despair clear in his voice.
“Jonathan,” you force his name out, now needing to be there for your best friend. You can worry for Will in your own time, right now Jonathan needs you. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Y/N, you don’t-”
You hang up before Jonathan can argue with you and stumble towards the exit. Your limbs feel heavier than normal, and your ears are ringing. Will is missing. He’s so small, he’s scared of the dark… You left him alone in the dark.
The bike ride to the Byers home is a blur. You don’t remember much, your body going on autopilot the second you hopped on your bike. You’re running on pure fear and adrenaline right now, too worried for your boys to focus on anything else.
You don’t bother to knock when you arrive, instead you let yourself in. Joyce is on the phone, arguing with some woman named Cynthia. Your eyes find Jonathan’s, who is sitting on the couch hunched over something. You walk over to him and sit down beside him and your stomach lurches when you see the words “have you seen me?” he’s so neatly printed out on a piece of paper.
“Bee…” you exhale, voice cracking a bit.
Jonathan doesn’t say anything, but you know him as well as you know yourself. He doesn’t want comforting words right now. You take his hand into yours and lean your head against his shoulder. Worry has made his muscles tense, but you feel him relax into you a bit as he rests his own head against yours. The two of you sit like that for a moment, taking in the comfort you bring each other.
“Bitch!” Joyce slams the phone down, causing you and Jonathan to jump apart.
“Mom,”
“What?” Joyce is a mixture of both rage and anxiety, and you feel awful looking at her. Her son is missing, you can’t imagine what she must be feeling right now.
“You have to stay calm.” Jonathan tells her, his voice firm but kind. You know it’s taking everything in him to be as stable as he is right now; he’s putting on a front for his worried mother. You squeeze his hand, hoping it conveys the support and love that you need it to.
He squeezes back, and you see Joyce finally recognize that you’re there as well. She sends you a weak wave, which you return, before she goes back to dialing and trying to reach Lonnie. Jonathan gives your hand one last squeeze and lets go, now returning back to the posters. You immediately understand that he’s doing this to distract himself, so you do the same and wordlessly help him.
You begin writing your own “have you seen me?” when Joyce once again slams her phone down. The sound makes you flinch, inadvertently messing up your writing, which you sigh at. Before you can ask Jonathan for another piece of paper, you hear a car pull up.
Jonathan stands up to investigate, alerting his mom that the cops are here. You follow after them outside, your heart dropping when you see Will’s bike in the Chief’s hand. He ushers everyone inside, informing Joyce that he found the bike lying in the road.
“How far was it from the house?” You ask, your voice frail.
The Chief looks at you, his nametag informs you that his name is Hopper, and raises his eyebrows. “And can I know who is asking?”
You clear your throat, nervous under his scrutinizing gaze. “I’m Y/N Henderson. I’m close with the Byers, I biked with Will home,” your voice catches in your throat, snagging onto the guilt that has been clawing at you ever since you found out Will was missing. You clear your throat again, determined to continue. “I was with him last night. My brother and I live right off Mirkwood, a few blocks from here. He only had a few more minutes before he would’ve been home.”
Hopper stares at you. “Mirkwood?”
“It’s where-”
“Yeah, those moron kids explained it to me. I just didn’t think someone your age would call the street that, too.” Then, as an afterthought, Hopper adds, “The bike was found a block from here.”
His words sting, but you ignore it. If the bike was found only a block from the Byers’ home, then that means that something had to have happened to Will only minutes after you last saw him. You feel the familiar churning in your stomach, wracked with guilt.
“Did it have any blood on it?” Joyce now asks, and you’re thankful she’s taken the attention off of you.
Jonathan sees your distress and grabs your sweater so that you fall back a bit from the cops and Joyce. “Do you need a minute?”
You can only nod, afraid that if you open your mouth you’ll either cry or throw up. He gently guides you to his room, closing the door. Once you’re alone, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight. You’re shaking harder than ever now, Will’s happy and shining face from last night keeps flashing through your mind.
You were the last one who ever saw him.
You’re the one who was last responsible for him.
You.
“It’s not your fault,” Jonathan whispers, his voice muffled by your hair. You’ve always loved how you fit perfectly in his arms, your height difference being just enough that he always rests his chin against your head when he hugs you.
“I’m the last person who saw him.”
“Y/N, I was the one who asked you to only bike him halfway-”
“No,” your voice comes out louder than you intend it to, and you push Jonathan away. He lets out a confused noise as you grapple at him, forcing him to look directly at you. “I should’ve been with him, Jonathan. It’s your job to support your family, and it’s my job to help you. I have to… I have to be the one who helps you.”
You’ve always been fascinated by psychology, and you remember reading in one of the journals about codependency; the term was used in relation to addiction, specifically alcoholism, but it had caught your interest. To love someone to the extent that their actions make you feel responsible for them, to selflessly take on their burdens to a debilitating extent, well, it reminded you of your relationship with Jonathan.
You’ve always taken on whatever Jonathan has had to deal with, ever since you were kids, and it’s always come so naturally to you. He’s never asked you to, and sometimes the extent to which you carry his weight angers him, but it’s how you love.
It’s who you are. You’re always the one who helps, it’s what you need to be able to do. If you can’t help the ones you love the most, then what good is your love for them?
Jonathan may not know about codependency, but he knows how hard you love those closest to you. “Bug, listen to me.” He grabs your face, almost aggressively, in order to cut off your rambling. “My mom, she-she’s already spiraling and I can’t… I need you. I need you to be here, with me, right now. If I lose you too, then I-I don’t know what I’ll do.”
His words cut through you like glass. He’s right, you know he’s right, and you feel another wave of guilt wash over you. This guilt is different from the guilt surrounding Will. This is mixed with shame for allowing yourself to spiral so far and forcing Jonathan to take care of you. Joyce is clearly unwell, you can’t fathom how much he’s had to deal with today.
You gently remove Jonathan’s hands from your face and take a step back. If you’re going to help him, you need to collect yourself. From here on out, you have to be a wall for him to lean on, a shoulder to cry on, someone who will listen to him.
“I’m sorry.”
Jonathan shrugs at you, now allowing a hesitant smile to cross his face. “If it makes you feel any better, it took a lot less pleading to get through to you. I’m still working on my mom.”
The joke is foul, one that should make you feel even worse than you already do, because what sixteen year old has to plead with their mother to remind her that he’s there, too? The joke is horrible, and it’s exactly what you need to find yourself laughing, and Jonathan joins.
Codependency can be a bitch, but Jonathan understands you in ways that no one else can.
“You think the cops are gone?” You ask, wiping away the remaining tears.
Jonathan listens for any sign of them and shakes his head. “No, I think we’re all clear.”
He walks out the room first and you follow after him. Joyce is standing in the kitchen, staring at the counter with a far off look in her eyes. You and Jonathan look at each other and you motion for him to go talk to her. He nods, and then you motion to the living room to indicate that you’ll continue working on the missing posters.
Carefully writing on the posters soothes you, in a way. It’s rhythmic, providing a sense of lull that you readily embrace. You faintly hear Jonathan talking with his mother, then you watch as he leads her to her bedroom and shuts the door. When he returns he sits next to you on the couch and begins to work on the posters as well. No words are needed.
You work on the posters in silence for a few hours until it nears 3pm. Dustin will be getting out of school soon, and you have to be there for him when he’s home. While Will may be Jonathan’s brother, he’s also your brother’s best friend. You get up and head into the kitchen, long familiar now with its layout and usual contents within the fridge, and quickly prepare the ingredients for spaghetti. It’s a simple meal, but Jonathan and Joyce need to eat. Once it’s all laid out, you return to the living room and tap on your friend’s shoulder.
“Hey, I have to head out now to check on Dustin, but I just put a pot of water on the stove along with some noodles on the counter. I also cut up some vegetables and put them in the fridge for the sauce. Start the meal whenever, I laid everything out for you.”
“Thank you, really,” Jonathan exhales, relief evident on his face. He hadn’t even thought about dinner, which you figured he wouldn’t.
You bend down to kiss the top of his head. “Anytime, bee. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”
“Okay,”
“Just…” you linger at the door, not fully wanting to leave him all by himself. “Be careful, please.”
“Go, Y/N. I’ll be fine, I promise.” Jonathan reassures you.
“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night.
It’s brief, but the flashback punches you in the gut. You close your eyes, holding onto the image of Will’s face in the moonlight last night, and when it fades you take a deep breath and force yourself to leave.
The second you’re on your bike, pedaling away from the house, you let the sobs that have wracked against your throat all day out. It’s messy, the tears coming down your face faster than you can wipe them away. All the fear you’ve felt is now able to freely come out. It’s not the safest way to bike home, but you know that if you hold the tears in any longer you’ll collapse. You do your best to still be alert, but apparently you fail because a BMW honks at you to avoid you hitting it.
“Fuck!” You yank your bike to the right, having no idea that you had been on the left side of the road, and topple over. The fall isn’t anything bad, but it definitely is your final straw for the day. You lay in the ditch you’ve landed in, staring at the November sky, and let the pain from your skinned knee serve as something to ground you to reality.
“Holy shit, did I hit you?”
Steve Harrington stands over you, a horrified look in his eyes.
“Unfortunately not, otherwise I’d be able to sue you and get money out of it.”
“Uh… okay?” He offers you his hand, although still very confused. “You didn’t like, happen to hit your head or anything, right?”
You accept his help, albeit mostly because you have to, and brush yourself off when you’re up. “I’m fine. I just wasn’t paying attention, sorry.”
Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you.
“So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?”
Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead.
“No,” you say, now repositioning your backpack so that you can get back on your bike. “Thanks anyways, Harrington.”
Steve continues to follow you, even after you’ve started to pedal away. “You’re welcome, random girl I almost hit!”
You’re a bit further now, and you still feel like utter shit, but his words somehow make you laugh a bit. For a brief moment, you forget about everything, so you call behind, “It’s Henderson!”
“That’s an odd first name!” The boy shouts after you, still following from a distance.
“Y/N Henderson!” You’re fully yelling now, a good yard away, but you can tell that Steve hears you based on the way he begins to wave eagerly, finally stopping next to his car. Faintly you understand the boyish charm that makes him so loved by all the girls in the school; you understand why Nancy Wheeler has fallen for him.
“Bye, Y/N!” It’s faint, but you swear you can hear a smile in his voice.
The good mood that Steve Harrington inexplicably puts you in vanishes when you near your house. Nothing has changed, yet it feels as if something has shifted. Will had been here only hours ago. You spot Dustin’s bike laying on the grass, haphazardly thrown as usual.
Dustin is just taking off his coat when you enter, immediately running over to him to pull him into a bone crushing hug.
“Y/N!” he squeaks in surprise.
“Are you okay?” You know you’re squeezing your brother harder than you need to, but God. He’s safe, in your arms, and you’ve now learned that not everyone can say the same about their own loved ones.
Dustin wiggles a bit, trying to break away from the hug, but you only pull him in tighter. “Geesh, no one died.”
Normally you’d berate him, but you embrace his snarky comments. They’re what make Dustin so unique, his humor one of your favorite parts of him
When you don’t respond, Dustin stops wiggling around and finally accepts the situation. “I love ya too, sis.”
You giggle a bit, now pulling away. “At least mom isn’t home right now. The minute she hears about what’s happened, we’ll be on lockdown.”
Dustin’s eyes widen. “Shit, you’re right.”
“Lan-”
“Language, I know.”
You ruffle his hair, now feeling a bit better. Dustin is still Dustin, so maybe everything will be okay. You and your brother go into the kitchen for your post school snack, and you call your boss to inform her that you can’t make it to your shift. The words “family emergency” catch in your throat a bit, and Mrs. Waters is kind enough not to push it.
Dustin catches you up on his day, informing you about Hopper questioning him and the other boys.
You scrunch your nose at that. “Is that even legal?”
“Unsure, but it was awesome.”
“Will went missing, Dustin. It isn’t ‘awesome’.”
Dustin tilts his head at you. “Well, I bet Will is going to have a blast hearing everything when we find him.”
His words are so matter of fact, as if he already knows that Will will be found after all. His naivety worries you a bit, but you also can’t help but indulge in his hope as well. Then you think about what he’s just said. “Wait, who’s ‘we’?”
Your brother pretends he can't hear you, miming at his ears. “Dustin-”
“What?”
“Dustin, you and the boys can’t just-”
“I can’t hear you!” He’s running to his room now with you quick behind his heels.
“Dustin, I swear to God-”
“I gotta do homework, Y/N, bye!” He slams the door in your face.
You sigh. There’s no getting through to him, years of being Dustin’s older sister has taught you that, so you go into your room instead. You might as well get started on the assignments you missed today, and you have a huge chem test tomorrow, so you’ll focus on that and keep an ear out for Dustin. Whatever he’s planning with the boys, you won’t let them do it alone.
After a couple hours of silence from Dustin’s room, you decide to call Jonathan. The line rings for a while with no answer, and eventually you give up. It makes sense that he’s not answering, he’s had a long day. You hope he’s asleep, but you know him better than that. He’s probably holed up in his room, trying to distract himself like you are right now.
A loud thud from Dustin’s room breaks you from your thoughts. Then you hear a quiet “shhh!” that sounds suspiciously like Lucas, and you immediately throw on your shoes and a jacket and march outside.
Dustin is halfway out of his window when you arrive, and Mike and Lucas stare at you, caught red handed.
“Guys, I think she can hear us.” Your brother says, breaking the silence. Mike scoffs at him and Lucas groans.
You eye the three of them, unamused. “Your best friend just went missing, what the hell are you guys doing out here so late and alone?”
Dustin awkwardly finishes his descent down, finally landing on his feet with a thud. He secures his hat back on his head and goes to grab his bike. You block his path.
“I’m serious, one of you needs to start talking, now.”
Lucas and Dustin look at Mike, who is their unofficial leader of the gang, and he huffs. “Look, Y/N, I like you-”
“How thrilling.” You say, voice monotone.
The boy ignores you and continues to talk. “But Will is missing, and we aren’t just going to sit around and wait. He’s our friend, we have to do something.”
You open your mouth to speak, but Lucas interrupts you. “You’re definitely our favorite sister in the group, so you’d be even cooler if you let us go.”
Again, you try to respond, but this time Dustin beats you to it. “Yeah, you’re like, totally cool already. If you pretend that you never saw us, that’d be great.”
“Guys-”
“And don’t give us a whole lecture about safety. That’s all bull.” Mike says.
“Boys!” You scream. They all fall silent, not used to you ever raising your voice at them. You’ve only ever yelled at them once or twice, preferring to be the “cool” sister whenever you can, but right now they’re seriously pissing you off.
“Let me speak.” When no one says anything, you continue. “I’m not going to stop you guys from looking for Will. In fact, I support it-”
“You do?”
You shoot Mike a death glare, which promptly shuts him up. “Yes, I do. However, I’m not letting you guys go alone.”
The boys all groan at this, acting as if it’s the worst thing in the world to have you tag along with them. You ignore their complaining and head over to where your bike sits against the porch. You zip up your coat, the chill from the night making you shiver a bit.
“No arguing, or I’ll call all your moms. Ours included, Dustin.”
“Why me?”
“Look, guys. I’m proud of you for stepping up, but I’m coming with. The last time I let one of you boys go off into the woods alone…”
The boys shift uncomfortably now, realizing how heavy the guilt weighs upon you. After a few beats of silence, Mike finally gives in.
“Fine,” he says, pointing a finger at you. “But the second you start to freak out, you’re gone.”
You salute Mike, hopping on your bike as you all begin to bike away. The ride doesn’t take long, since you live just off of where Will was last seen. Thunder rumbles when you all approach the crime scene, and you shudder a bit.
“It’s going to rain, guys.” You inform them.
Dustin looks up at the sky with uncertainty. “I think maybe we should go back.”
Mike is quick to shut down the idea, urging the others to keep going. You admire his loyalty to Will, and you figure it’s why the two of you butt heads so often. Out of the entire group, you’re the most similar to him.
Lucas and Mike go under the caution tape first, and Dustin hangs back. You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We can go back, you know.”
He clenches his jaw, jutting his chin out a bit. “No, Will needs us.”
Your brother puffs out his chest and follows after his friends, leaving you to take up the rear. More thunder rumbles and the rain begins to come down. You flip your hood up, thankful you remembered to grab a hoodie when leaving.
Mike guides the way with his flashlight, then Lucas, then Dustin, then you in the back. You make sure to keep your eyes on the three boys, scared that the second you look away they’ll be gone. The woods have always creeped you out, but you push your fear down to keep them safe.
“Will!” Mike calls out, the rain now pouring down on you guys.
“Byers!”
“Will, little bee!” You call out as well. He never liked when you called him that in front of the others, but tonight was an exception.
“I’ve got your X-Men 134!” Your brother bribes, unintentionally making you laugh a bit. If Will is nearby, he’ll surely come out to claim his prize.
Your foot catches on a tree log, and you slip in the mud before just barely managing to catch yourself. It’s getting hard to see given how dark it is and the rain surrounding you. Dustin voices his concerns, only to be called a baby, and you bite your tongue. If you defend him, he’ll only look more like a baby to his friends.
“I’m just being realistic!” He retaliates, which you commend him for.
“Dustin’s right, guys. It’s getting really bad out here. We’re surrounded by a ton of trees, don’t they attract lightning?” You ask, now paranoid that you’ll be struck down any second.
“You guys are being sissies.” Lucas taunts, annoyed as well.
You try to argue, but Dustin voices a thought that’s been at the back of your mind. “Did you ever think Will went missing because he ran into something bad?”
You think back to how Hopper seemed worried when he investigated the Byers home. From what you can recall, he suspected that Will had been running away from something, explaining why he’d abandon his bike.
“And now we’re going to the exact same spot where he was last seen, and we have no weapons or anything?”
Maybe Dustin’s right. This definitely wasn’t your best idea, and you’re regretting letting them follow through with their plan. For someone who claims to want to keep their loved ones safe, you really suck at it.
“Dustin, shut up.” Mike voices, though he now looks a bit concerned as well.
“He’s right, Mike.” You speak up, stumbling a bit in more mud. Your shoes are definitely ruined, now. “I was at Jonathan’s when Hopper showed up, he thinks Will was running from something.”
The boys go quiet now, and when you’re about to suggest going home, you hear rustling in the bushes.
“Did you guys hear that?” Mike asks.
Your heart stops as the rustling continues and you all start to twist and turn, looking for the source of the sound. The rustling gets louder, almost as if it’s getting closer, and you tighten your hand around your flashlight, ready to use it as a weapon just in case.
Then, the light flashes upon a little girl, drenched in an oversized yellow shirt, shivering. Her head is shaved, but her small stature suggests to you that she is indeed a girl. You all stare at her, no one saying a thing. She stares back, a terrified look on her face that breaks your heart.
“Holy shit,” you whisper.
Her eyes land on you; something about her reminds you of Will, and you know that nothing will be the same again.
-
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#steve harrington x henderson!reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#stranger things#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things rewrite#slowburn#angst#wdtai#m's writing#honestly i just want to be jonathans bff#like its criminal that he doesnt have any real friends in the show until SEASON 4#absolutely wild
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part three
———
The first step should, in all likelihood, be the easiest.
(“I’m not sure this is something you can really plan,” Annabeth had suggested gently, “as much as my mother would disown me to hear it. I mean, everything I did with Percy kind of just…happened.”
“Yeah, and I’m sure the five years of pining misery and fighting off several other people — one of whom was literally me — was a real walk in the park for you.”
“…Plan on.”)
It is not the easiest.
“You’re telling me the flowers…say things.”
If Nico reaches back into the farthest recesses of his memory, as in things that are shoved somewhere between his sister’s soft sobs the one time he got sicker than he’d ever been and has ever been since and the time he’d walked in on Alecto skinny dipping in the Phlegothon, he can vaguely remember a lengthy rant from his stepmother on something called the language of flowers. He had, at that time, assumed she was simply trying to convince him that everything had voices again, and ignored her.
“Yes,” says Miranda from Demeter Cabin patiently. “Every flower has an assigned meaning. More than one, usually. You can say very rude things with flowers.”
Nico perks up, intrigued. “How do you say ‘you’re a fucking c—”
“Okay,” Jason interrupts, plastering a strained smile on his face and slapping a hand over Nico’s mouth. Nico bites him, hard, and the smile becomes even more strained. “We are actually looking for much nicer things to say with flowers. Kind things. Appreciative things. Feelings, you know. Nico?”
He lifts his hand, looking at him in warning as if Nico is going to be quelled by his Stare of Judgement, of all things. Nico stares back at him until he starts to look appropriately cowed, satisfyingly afraid of the horror that lives inside Nico’s eyes, except he — doesn’t.
He doesn’t look scared at all, actually, which is — which.
Nico takes all thoughts pertaining to the issue and shoves them away.
“I need,” he says haltingly, looking back at Miranda. She looks at him encouragingly.
She doesn’t look afraid of him, either, although she glances quickly down at the circle of grass he’s killed by virtue of standing on it and says, politely, “If you could maybe stop that, I would appreciate it.”
Nico swallows, stepping back. “Sorry.”
“No worries.” She swoops down, hands outstretched, murmuring something too soft for him to pick up. Under her gentle fingertips, the grass blooms slowly back to life, tiny strands uncurling and swelling with virility, stretching towards the sun. Even the dirt smells sweeter, like churned garden soil rather than graveyard dirt.
Something dark and bitter crawls up Nico’s throat — he will always need people to clean up after his messes. No matter how hard he tries. Miranda with the plants, Solace with every one of his endless injuries, Bianca with — everything. She cleaned up after him a lot.
She was only twenty-seven months older than him. He wonders how she would have liked being fourteen, and has to choke back the sob that tries to claw its way out of his trachea.
“Not a lot of people have flower language memorized,” Miranda says, dragging him roughly back to the present. Her large brown eyes are back to focused on him, so he forces himself into normalcy and stares back. “And it’s kind of vague, so I need something to start with. Who’s it for?”
“Classified.”
Nico considers, once again, opening up a chasm beneath his feet. His geokinesis is no bene so he’d probably take Jason and Miranda down with him, but. Necessary sacrifices, et cetera.
“Understandable,” Miranda responds without so much as a beat. Huh. Suddenly, he feels bad for considering her collateral. “Just this then: friend or foe?”
Nico looks at Jason. Jason looks back at him, like, dude, seriously. Nico scowls at him and his uselessness.
“Friend,” he says begrudingly. “…More.”
Miranda nods in understanding. “Ah. Will, then.”
Nevermind. Chasm it is.
“Man, I hoped you guys would finally do something,” Miranda continues, oblivious to the ground trembling slightly under her. (Jason, however, appears alarmed, so Nico summons a tiny skeleton hand to grab his ankle in revenge.) “I love Will to pieces, but there are only so many times I can hear him wax poetic about you before it starts to get embarrassing. When we were twelve you saved his life and he actually cried because he didn’t know how to form the words. Just weeping everywhere about your sword and your hair and how you look a little crazy when you smile in battle. Did you know there are, like, a million syllables for brown? I do. He thinks your eyes are a tie between moonstone and agate, in case you were wondering.”
“I have actually heard that,” Jason mumbles, as Nico’s brain whites out and leaves him, tragically alone, to suffer. “I thought he was just super into geology.”
“Oh, he is. He’s a little into everything. There’s a bi joke, for you.”
“Oh, ha, I get it.”
Is that his body, stranded somewhere below him? Hi, body. Good to see you. You look like hell. Feel free to summon your soul back into yourself at any time, that’d be great.
“I am generally bad at functioning,” he admits, once his essence has begrudgingly reattached itself to his cells and his blood stops ringing quite so loudly in his ears.
Miranda shrugs. “I think you’re pretty okay. Once Percy had to get five stitches on his lip because he was half asleep and mixed up his plate and pizza and bit clean through his plate. It only really needed four stitches, but Will laughed so hard he couldn’t focus right and tore the wound a tad before fixing it. By accident.”
Nico tries very hard not to picture that laughter, not to remember the first time he heard Will laugh, not the hundreds of times after; a loud sound, a musical sound, despite his insistence that he has no talents. Laughter like olive oil laughs in the pan, like wind laughs as it rushes through the poplar trees.
Jason nods sympathetically. “Mondays are hard.”
“Please,” Nico begs the both of them. The nerve he’d summoned after the encouragement of his friends is slowly leaking out of his eyeballs and soaking the ground. “I just need —”
He can’t finish that sentence, either. I need to give Will flowers so he knows I have….intentions, with him, is the most embarrassing sentence ever to be conjured by man, and if he has to say it aloud he knows his father will smite him out of pity, as is their deal. It must only be implied, and even then, he could get egged by any member of Cabin Eleven and turn into a breakfast buffet, his face is so godsdamn hot.
“Will, is, like, unbelievably dense,” Miranda says, taking pity on him. She waits for Nico to finish choking, patting him firmly on the back before continuing. “I guess that’s not fair. He can be quite observant, he just has worse self-esteem than you, even, no offense, so if you are trying to seduce him you’re going to have to be very obvious.”
The wheezing that she has just circumvented starts all over again. This time, Jason joins him. Miranda has no qualms or shame — fitting, since Nico has met her mother, who also has no shame about anything. Nico will never be able to forget that she is the goddess of fertility.
“Who the fuck said anything about seducing,” he manages, finally, lungs chilling somewhere on the grass.
Miranda ignores him. “I would usually say something simple like daisies, but they can be representative of friendship and he will for sure assume they are friendship flowers. Hyacinth can communicate a much deeper breadth of emotion, but, uh —” she glances at the Apollo cabin — “I would avoid Hyacinth.”
Nico sobers. Yeah. That would be wise.
“I think roses send a little too strong of a message for your purposes, so I’m thinking carnations. Pink ones.”
Recovering from the implications of the roses — he’s a little out of time, not stupid, he knows what they mean — he looks at her curiously. “What do pink carnations mean?”
She shrugs. “Love and affection, really. Sometimes gratitude, and in some poetry their colouring is compared to a pleased flush.”
Although he expected much more agony in this particular step of the journey (not that their wasn’t a good, healthy amount; can’t feel good feelings for too long if you’re Nico di Angelo, Cursèd, Son of Hades, Prince of the Underworld, Ghost King, Et Cetera, Et Cetera), pink carnations seem surprisingly…right. Love and affection, he can handle that, and if there’s one thing he always is, regarding Will, it’s grateful. Maybe the whole damn camp should be giving him pink carnations.
“Here.”
Sensing Nico’s hesitant acceptance, Miranda swoops down to the ground, digs around a second, shoots a quick prayer to her mother, and waits. A moment later, several blush-pink flowers shoot from the dirt, along with — Nico squints to read it — a book about the history of grain cereals. Miranda looks confused about one of those two things.
“I am constantly plagued by the Ancient Greek Theoi and their various whims,” Nico explains.
“Your life confuses me,” Miranda responds. She hands him the book and the flowers. For once, Demeter’s gift seems to be the less volatile object of the two. “I’m going to go meditate about it.”
“Good call,” says Jason.
“Thank you,” Nico calls, belatedly, to her retreating back. He glances down at the flowers in his hand. “Jason,” he says, voice strained.
He sighs. “Oh, here we go.”
“Jason, I have to move.”
“You’re fine here,” Jason says patiently. He places a hand on Nico’s shoulder and begins to steer him towards the Big House. Nico, distraught, refrains from judo flipping him into a tree.
“I ruin everything I touch, Jason.”
“You helped out with the strawberries just fine last week.”
“Strawberries are not people, Jason.”
“The kids seem to like you. You let them keep weird skulls and rocks and shit they find in the woods, and they like that.”
“Children are not completely incomprehensible sons of the sun, Jason.”
“Will likes you. By his own admission. He thinks — and I’m quoting here — that you’re gorgeous, even when you’re glaring at him and rueing your own existence.”
Nico has nothing to say to that, because he still can’t quite believe that’s true. It’s — surreal. He had no arguments against it, because he knows, objectively, that Will was not lying, and he can see, with his eyeballs, that Will smiles every time they make eye contact, unless Nico did something stupid in which case Will is huffing and muttering about patients and demigods and how increased power is directly correlated with increased stupidity.
Mostly smiling, though.
At Nico. With love and affection and oh, gods, he is going to ruin things so bad.
“Look,” Jason says, stopping them in front of the porch. Nico takes the pause with equal parts relief and panic, turning to him with the flowers clutched to his chest. “You have — issues.”
Nico blinks, waiting for more sentence. Surely that cannot be all of it.
“…Yes,” he acquiesces, when no sentence is forthcoming. “I am an interloper in this timeline. I am an omen of death. I am —”
“Gods, you’re dramatic.”
Nico agonizes.
“You will be fine, Nico, please, I don’t even know what the hang-up is. He said he likes you, there is literally not a single soul in this camp unaware about how much he likes you. Right?”
The rickety screen door of the infirmary bangs open, slamming against the frame, startling them both so hard they cause a slight earthquake.
“Oh, you got them, you got them!”
The overworked and overstressed whirlwind known as William Andrew Solace bursts out of the infirmary, tripping over his own shoes and nearly landing on his face had Jason not caught him.
“Woah, dude,” he says, steady hand on his waist. Nico reacts to that totally normally and Jason’s shadow does not at all try to swallow him. “What’s wrong?”
Will barely responds. “Nico, you are the best, I owe you forever —”
Stumbling out of Jason’s hold, he lunges over to Nico, plucking the flowers out of his hand and spinning right back to the infirmary. In total bewilderment, Nico and Jason follow him, watching as he tosses the bouquet in the air, hands glowing golden, and mutters a quick hymn. The flowers begin to droop, then wrinkle, then fully shrivel up, totally dead as they land back in his hands.
“What the fuck,” Jason whispers.
“Sun-dried is better, but I don’t have time,” Will frets. “Son of sun will have to do. Ha. You, and you, over here.” He points to the nurses desk with the yellowed stems, no trace of a question in his voice. The two of them scramble to comply, ducking under the half-door and standing awkwardly behind the counter as Will clears it off.
“That stupid prank — remind me to kill Cecil tomorrow, Nico, if you don’t mind — has three whole cabins covered in skin welts. I don’t have enough beds for them all, and they need to be quarantined, anyway. I haven’t had time to go get more ingredients in between cabins, let alone time to make more ointment.” Two massive stone mortars slam the counter, making both of them jump, followed by pestles with blunt heads roughly the size of Nico’s fist. “Pulverize the petals as fine as you can.” He splits the dead bouquet in half, handing them each six flowers each. “Petals only, no stems or seeds. I’ll be back in twenty minutes to gather it. Oh, and Nico —”
He pauses for a moment, taking a breath. Hesitantly, Nico reaches out and places a gentle hand on his wrist. Instantly, the worried line between his eyes melts away, and he smiles; tired but radiant.
“I owe you one,” he says softly. “You always know just what I need. I’ve been using rose, ‘cause that’s what we have, even though pink carnations is better, but we ran out an hour ago and I’ve been freaking out cause I —”
“Solace,” Nico interrupts. He squeezes gently. “Breathe.”
He does. Inhale, hold, exhale, breath tickling the hairs in Nico’s arm, causing goosebumps to bristle all over his skin. (The grateful smile pointed towards him at full power has nothing to do with that. Obviously.)
“I’m good. Just — thank you, Nico. You knew exactly what I needed.”
A loud groan sounds from somewhere to the east, in the vague direction of Cabin Ten, and Will rushes off without another word, medical bag stuffed to bursting. There’s a thump, and a quick, “I’m good!” and then the sound of running in flip-flops. Nico ducks his head to hide a smile, turning to the dried flowers.
“Well,” says Jason after a moment. “You tried.”
Nico shrugs. He starts plucking the petals off and dumping them in the mortar, Jason quick to follow his example.
“I’ll just have to try harder next time.”
———
part five
#i love will but in terms of romance he is a cement pillar of dumbass#percy jackson and the olympians#pjo#heroes of olympus#hoo#pjo hoo toa#nico di angelo#will solace#solangelo#nico/will#will/nico#jason grace#nico di angelo & jason grace#miranda gardiner#nico di angelo & miranda gardiner#longpost#fic#my writing#courting fic#fluff#whipped down bad ridiculous nico my beloved#pining nico di angelo
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How would Yandere!Aegon I, Aemond, Daemon and Margor react to a Stark!Reader who refused to marry them on religious grounds? (As in she doesn’t want to marry and have children with someone that doesn’t worship the Old Gods)
I’m still having a hard time writing Daemon and I have no idea if anyone can tell through my writing. Anyways, enjoy!
TW: Somnophilia, dubcon, kidnapping(?), and stalking.
Aegon I (The Conqueror)
Aegon was a persistent man. When he wanted something he would eventually get it even if it took him a while.
None were surprised when after the Lord of Winterfell finally bent the knee to him, Aegon soon set his eyes on conquering another part of the North. The Lord of Winterfell’s sister. Unlike most that had come before her, she was not bending over backward to fulfill his every want nor was she cold and distant. She was dismissive, as though he didn’t have a dragon perched outside the walls of the cold castle. The more she acted as if he was not there, the more attention he paid to her.
He soon learned she was unwed and that every day she would take a stroll out to a tree that he had been told was where they worshipped the Old Gods. While his sister-wives were entertained by the feasts the northerners put together in their honor, Aegon found himself following Lady Stark out into the forest. He tried his best not to be seen. He watched as she knelt in front of the tree’s face for several minutes before getting up to leave. He didn’t follow her back that night. He only stayed for a few moments longer and watched the tree. He knew nothing about the Old Gods and why the northerners worshipped them. Truthfully, he didn’t care enough to know. He couldn’t see why it would be so important to him.
The next morning as Visenya and Rhaenys still slumbered, as well as most of the castle, Aegon went to the Lord of Winterfell. With the Lady barely giving him the time of day, he knew he wouldn’t get the answer he wanted so he decided to ask her brother for her hand in marriage. The man agreed quickly, stating that his sister only needed to agree, and once she did they would be wed.
Aegon had not expected an immediate yes but he hadn’t expected the Lady to say no so quickly and with so little thought. She refused to marry him due to her Gods. The Gods he did not worship. She stated that she could not marry nor bare children for a man who did not understand her Gods or the way of her people. Aegon had suggested that a Weirwood tree be brought to King’s Landing for her to which she only laughed, claiming he clearly understood nothing of what it represented. With a forced smile, he nodded and left the Lady to herself.
That night he had asked his dear sister-wife Rhaenys to find a Weirwood tree and place it in King’s Landing. She left without question and when Visenya raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for an answer he gave none.
He went to the Lord of Winterfell again who patted Aegon on the shoulder and pitied him for the rejection. Aegon had only to remind the Lord of the two dragons that stood outside his gates and what had happened to his previous enemies when they went against him. It was a threat and the Lord could see that. It was something Aegon appreciated because he didn’t care to dance around this for much longer.
The next morning, Visenya made sure that their things were packed and atop their dragons. Along with Lady Stark’s belongings. When the Lady herself was brought into the room in which Aegon stood with her brother, the look of boredom that was present on her face every time she saw Aegon was wiped away with a look of worry. Aegon stood back as her brother explained to her that she would not be wed to Aegon, as she wished, but she would be going to King’s Landing with him. When a look of confusion appeared on her beautiful face Aegon smiled and took her hands and told her that she would live with him as his mistress. She would not need to bare him any children and a Weirwood tree had been brought to her new home for her.
It may not have been what he wanted initially but perhaps after years as his mistress and years without a child of her own, Aegon could only hope that the love he showed her would be enough for her to finally agree to wed him but for now, he could settle for this.
Maegor
When it is whispered that the Stark family might join his nephew in rebelling against his claim to the throne, Maegor himself goes to Winterfell to sort things out with the Lord of Winterfell. When he first arrived, though, it was not the Lord that caught his eye but one of his daughters. She was beautiful, Maegor noted, but that was not what drew him to her. There was a fire in her eyes that he had truly ever seen in dragons when she looked at him.
That night, as he was talking to the Lord of Winterfell, he brought up his daughter. He claimed she was a Snow, a bastard, but he had loved her mother very much and had agreed to raise her alongside his sons. Maegor seeing the opportunity had suggested that if the Lord held no objections to Maegor marrying her, he would simply forget about the talks of the Starks rebelling. The Lord quickly agreed, knowing how Maegor handled his enemies and he wasn’t going to disagree with the man whilst his dragon, the same dragon that frightened his father enough to bend the knee, was outside the castle walls. Despite his agreeing to give his daughter's hand to Maegor, he warned the king of how devoted his daughter was to the Old Gods. Maegor simply laughed and said that it could be dealt with.
The next morning, as they were breaking their fast, Lord Stark announced the union that would be had between their House and House Targaryen. When his daughter heard this news she immediately protested but it didn’t matter. Maegor had already decided she was to be his wife so under his command he had his men take her to her rooms and have her locked in there. She was only to be let out that night when they were to be married. Lord Stark said nothing as the guards took away his daughter, who only spat in Maegor’s direction before she was out of view. When everyone at the table was settled again, Maegor smirked and said to no one in particular, “I think I will enjoy this marriage.”
When night fell he stood before the Weirwood tree and awaits his bride. When she was walked down to Maegor by her father, her beautiful dress could not hide the chains Maegor had requested be placed on her. She glared at him the entire ceremony and after she said her vows, she declared that this was a mockery of The Old Gods. Maegor refused to acknowledge her as the ceremony continued and when it ended he brought her to the chambers he was staying in by himself, although, he refused to remove the chains. She would learn that despite his name, he could treat the things he wanted well as he believed he did when he had their wedding ceremony before her precious Weirwood tree.
Daemon
Daemon had asked the sister of Lord Stark to marry him on several occasions. The first time in his youth and the most recently after his first wife had died. He made no secret his love for the Stark woman. Proclaiming she was his to anyone that had ears. She was not his, of course, as she would remind people. She never would be. She could never marry anyone who did not understand and worship the Old Gods. She would not compromise on this it infuriated Daemon because he was no king and his brother had refused to make the match on the grounds that the Lady, herself refused.
So, Daemon watched her. He was lucky enough that she lived in King’s Landing as one of the queen’s lady-in-waiting. When many thought he snuck down to the city and the depravity below them, he only snuck through the hidden passageways in the castle to find Lady Stark in her chambers. She mostly read or slept and when he saw her leave her room he would enter it. Searching for things that smelt like her. Once, he found her nightgowns and decided to take them all. Knowing that until she could have more purchased for herself she would have to sleep naked. It was something he enjoyed watching immensely. He didn’t know if she knew that he was behind the stolen clothes or if he watched her every step but even if she did, he would not stop.
Eventually, though, as most Ladies-in-waiting do, she got married. It was to a man who belonged to a Northern House a house no one could really remember. He did pray to The Old Gods, though, and apparently, that was enough for the woman he had so longed to marry to agree to be another man’s wife. Luckily, because he was not the Lord of his House the Queen could request that they stay in King’s Landing.
Daemon was glad that his love wasn’t going to be taken away from him but he couldn’t help but roll his eyes and glare daggers into the ungrateful man that his Lady now called her husband. At the feast to celebrate such a joyous event, Daemon made sure to sneak out when the newly married couple decided to take their leave for the night. He hide in his usual spot and watched as his Lady undressed for her new husband and laid down on the bed with her legs open for him. Daemon pulled out his own hard cock at the sight of her naked form. Her breasts her soft and he would give anything to taste her cunt. Her new husband didn’t even think to have her on his tongue, he only climbed on the bed and thrust his cock into her.
Daemon watched as her tits bounced with every thrust and pumped his own cock harder when she moaned. Her own husband had finished before she had and rolled off of her and promptly fell asleep. Daemon bit the inside of his cheek to not growl at the thought. How could a man have this beautiful northern lady underneath him and not have her cum with pleasure? He stayed long enough for her to fall asleep and he debated with himself for a few seconds on if he should enter the room.
Her husband had drunk so much wine, Daemon doubted that a wild horse running about their chambers would wake him. His lady had also had a fair amount to drink, especially after her husband had fallen asleep. So after a moment of rationalizing to himself, Daemon snuck into the chambers for the first time that she was also in there as well. He walked over to her side of the bed with his cock still out. He knew simply jerking off to her would no longer simply suffice. So he positioned himself on the bed carefully, so as not to jostle her husband or wake her, and slipped his hard cock into her. Her poor cunt was still wet and after a few slow and deep thrusts, he could tell it was just begging to be pleased.
He leaned down and latched his mouth onto one of her soft tits to muffle his moans as he continued to thrust into her. He brought one hand to her weeping cunt and rubbed at her clit. She clenched around his cock which made him buck harder into her. She moaned in her sleep but did not wake and when Daemon was sure she wouldn’t wake he continued until he felt her clenching again and soaking his cock with her creamy cum. When he felt her release he quickened his own thrusts and finally spilled his seed in her. When he pulled away he stood and looked down at his Lady. Her cunt was a mess of her own cream as well as her husband’s and Daemon’s seed. He snuck out of the chambers the same way he came in and told himself he would find another opportunity to taste her on his tongue.
Nearly nine moons after her wedding she gave birth to a son and when Daemon finally saw him he smiled in triumph. The babe had patchy white hair on the top of his head and large lilac eyes. Despite her marrying another man, Daemon had still managed to make it so they were bonded through blood.
Aemond
When Aemond is sent out to all of the great Houses of Westeros to gain the support of his brother he wasn’t expecting his attention to be grabbed by a widowed Stark. While the Lord would deliberate and talk to his counselors, Aemond would find himself sitting with the Lady and talking. He learned of how her husband was a Stark and how he died of a fever a little less than a year ago. When Aemond offered her his sympathies she only smiled sadly and shook her head saying, “I prayed to The Old Gods, and they saw it right to take him. Who am I to argue with that?”
After their talks, Aemond would find the library in Winterfell and read about The Old Gods. They clearly meant quite a bit to this widow. When he searched out a maester who resided in Winterfell and believed in The Old Gods, he told Aemond that the widow he had his eye on would never marry him nor bare his children because he did not worship The Old Gods. Aemond refused to believe the old man and on his second week in Winterfell, he went to his dear widow and asked for her hand. She smiled sadly at him and declined. Claiming that she had grown to care for Aemond and that despite her love for The Old Gods she would never want him to pretend to believe in something he truly didn’t. She kissed him on the cheek in parting and left.
Aemond didn’t know what to do with himself. He was certain he loved the sad woman despite barely knowing her. He wouldn’t force her to marry him and she was right, as fascinating as The Old Gods seemed, he didn’t believe in them. When he realized that his affection for her couldn’t go on any longer he drowned himself in ale with a rather burly northerner.
The northern man took pity on Aemond and brought him to the only brothel in Winterfell, there Aemond found a woman who looked like his widow from behind. He spent the entire night with her and when he married her the next day he was still slightly drunk because that was the only way he could look at her face and see the woman he truly wanted. By the time he left Winterfell, he did not have the North’s allegiance to the new king nor the widow he had coveted but a new wife who when he bedded her he would moan the name of another.
#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd smut#house of the dragon smut#aemond targaryen#maegor targaryen#aegon i targaryen#aegon the conqueror#Aegon the conqueror x reader#Aegon the conqueror x oc#maegor targaryen x reader#maegor the cruel#Maegor Targaryen x oc#daemon targaryen x oc#daemon targaryen#daemon Targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x oc#aemond targaryen x reader#yandere!hotd
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Saw this demon slayer fic where the reader dances while they fight, i found it a cool fighting style and it would be rlly nice if u wrote yan hashiras x a reader like that :3
I decided to go back to doing headcanons quickly (as compared to oneshots) so I skipped ahead to the first hcs on the list.
And that sounds really cool! My little sister is a dancer! She does competitions and stuff- she’s absolutely amazing and will be auditioning for a pro studio in a few months! I’m so proud of her.
Me though? I’m ungraceful as fuck and have a bad knee.
WARNINGS: yandere themes, mostly fluffiness
Tomioka Giyu
Tomioka’s face gives away none of the amazement he feels watching you fight for the first time.
He wants to get to know you better, but he’s awkward by nature and doesn’t like talking much, so he struggles to do so.
Master Ubuyashiki can tell his little Giyu has a crush, so he often pairs you both up on missions, hoping you’ll give him a chance, not realizing how dark Tomioka’s love really is.
Thankfully, despite his obsessiveness, Tomioka is more of a watcher (and stalker). He would never hurt you.
He just wants to watch you dance until the end of time.
Tokito Muichiro
Tokito is another calm yandere that isn’t easily impressed. But even when seeing your dance moves, he’s not blown away.
However, he does think your dancing is quite pretty and finds himself thinking about it even outside of battle, which is confusing to him.
He can’t figure out why you keep appearing in his dreams and it frustrates him a lot at first.
But then, he’s sitting there under the full moon, watching you twirl and leap as you practice fighting against the butterfly hashira, and he understands.
He’s fallen in love with you.
Rengoku Kyojuro
Rengoku, on the other hand, is very impressed and tells you so!
He’s very vocal about how much he loves your fighting style, and you enjoy showing off for him.
He doesn’t like fighting against you, because he’d much rather sit back and watch instead of try to overpower you.
You’ve beat him several times in practice, and it only causes his respect (and love) to grow.
Anyone who thinks you’re just a pretty ballerina has another thing coming when you pull out your sword, and he knows that first hand.
He likes watching you so much that he’s asked you to dance for him, and he applauds very loudly and enthusiastically when you’re done.
Tengen Uzui
You’re a flashy person like he is, and he respects that!
Your dance moves are cutting-edge, quite literally, with a spin of hip-hop in with the ballet. It’s a unique style and he loves it!
He invites you on his missions, even if he could easily do it alone, simply because you’re the only human on earth that can match his level of flashiness.
He loves to fight alongside you, trying to make his moves as graceful as yours can be.
He finds himself researching dance more, so he can choreograph his battle moves too.
He feels all warm inside when you compliment his attempts at dancing, even though he’s kind of clunky and awkward at it with his big figure.
Iguru Obanai
Iguru will, of course, tell you that it might not be possible to always dance during a battle.
He also complains that you’re using too much stamina with your moves.
But secretly, he really loves watching, and he’s just very worried about you.
He gives you pointe shoes in your favorite color as a gift, and you wear them with your uniform.
He’s very proud that you like them and blushes when you hug him, telling him that they’re the perfect gift.
Shinazugawa Sanemi
Shinazugawa will never tell you that he thinks your hip-hop dance moves are badass.
But he does. He really, really does.
He sometimes puts you down, implying that being a dancer is weak and stuff like that.
But when you knock him on his butt in sparring practice, that shuts him up pretty quickly.
He finds himself actually competing with you a lot, determined to prove he’s better than some “dancy-pants”. But you always perform better than him.
The two of you are always butting heads, so you’re not paired together very often. But when you are, you don’t end up working well together.
He develops a crush without realizing it and it just ends up making him even angrier.
But the moment he sees you in danger, he’s ripping the demon limb-from-limb.
Himejima Gyomei
The first time you dance, you move him to tears. He’s never seen anyone or anything so beautiful.
You find it funny that your pirouetting can literally make someone cry, but you’re gentle with the tearful hashira, telling him you’re honored he likes your ballet so much.
The two of you end up being friends, with him quietly enjoying your dancing and battle practice.
You end up being on a lot of missions together since, despite the difference in your abilities, you fight well together.
He loves you so deeply and is extremely protective of you, so the others are intimidated away by the gentle giant, leaving him as your only friend
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere demon slayer#demon slayer#yandere tomioka#giyuu tomioka#yandere tokito#tokito muichiro#yandere rengoku#rengoku kyojuro#yandere tengen#tengen uzui#yandere iguru#iguru obanai#yandere shinazugawa#sanemi shinazugawa#yandere himejima#gyomei himejima
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My rant about Danny Phantom and DPxDC tropes
This is just going to be a listing and rant about some of the Danny Phantom and DPxDC story and prompt trends I tend to see around Tumblr. I want to make it clear that I don’t care if you like the things I don’t like or dislike the things I do. Everyone is entitled to their own tastes so long as they don’t harm others and that includes headcannons and fanfics. So don’t be a dick.
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Danny is the Ghost King: I admit I really like this one, but I also admit it doesn’t make a ton of sense.
I like OP Danny, I think it’s fun and it fits how several of his enemies can easily be called gods or have global-level powers— Vortex with his storms and Ember with her mind control/power siphoning being key examples— and having him basically be the leader of an entire infinite dimension filled with several godlike beings makes him come off as super badass.
On the other hand, this headcanon typically leans into Danny getting the job via Right Of Conquest against Pariah Dark. The thing is, Pariah wasn’t a recognized ruler. He was a tyrant and conqueror that few if any actually wanted to follow. He didn’t have ‘divine right’ or the willing submission of his subjects. He was the Ghost King because he had the power and desire to force his will against the rest of the Realms. Hell, he was so hated that a cabal of super-powerful/ancient spirits deposed him and locked him away for hundreds/thousands/millions of years and NO ONE other than Vlad tried to free him! So Danny beating him shouldn’t suddenly make him a legitimate ruler.
That all said if you go with the less used reasoning that the Ghost Zone NEEDS to have a single ruler for whatever reason and Danny beating the previous singular ruler/being one of the few ghosts/spirits who have the power and fame required for the position I have no problem with the idea.
Danny is Dani’s dad: Another thing I like, but also another thing that gets messy when you think about it.
Cloning as I understand it basically gives you a genetic twin, not a genetic child. So even with Dani’s genes being modified somehow she’d read more like Danny’s sister than his daughter. So unless you want to throw in that Vlad used some third party’s genes to help stabilize her, Dani is not genetically Danny’s kid.
Ignoring genetics and sticking to emotions and such, emotionally and mentally Danny is a teenager and Dani is somewhere between 8 and 12, way too close of an age difference for Danny to really take on a paternal role for Dani. And even if you say that Dani is mentally younger due to her being force grown it would still leave Danny as a very young teenage parent of a preteen and Dani in a very weird state as her physical and mental development would be at gross odds with how she can filter information.
If you deage Dani to a toddler however and have Danny be AT LEAST 16, things could make more sense as far as them seeing each other as parent and child go.
Danny gives off Uncanny Valley vibes: This has no basis in canon, be it for full ghosts or Halfas or anything else. That said, I love this idea and have no further notes.
Danny is an engineering genius: This is one that comes up pretty sporadically, and I guess it MIGHT have some basis in canon if you stretch some things, but it’s not something that was ever explicitly stated or even heavily implied. I still like it though and think it’s really fun when used for things other than just saying Danny is smart.
Tucker is a master hacker: I get where this is coming from and I understand the vibes, plus it has more of a basis than Danny being an engineering genius, but this also doesn’t really have any real basis in canon. The only ‘hacking’ that he really does is against Skulker and that involves the ghost first assimilating Tucker’s PDA, giving him a back door into Skulker’s systems to do one specific thing. So while fun in some cases, I don’t like it when it gets blown out of proportion and having Tucker being on par with the likes of Tim Drake, Barbara Gordon, or Cyborg as a computer genius. He is smart and he is a programmer, but he’s not a super genius.
Everyone is Liminal: I don’t know who popularized this idea, but I don’t like it. The idea that just being around ectoplasm makes someone liminal sounds like something that the Fenton parents would have been at least vaguely aware of if they were already smart enough to wear hazmat suits for protection when working with ectoplasm, so if they knew it would make people basically proto ghosts/ensure they would become ghosts, they sure as hell wouldn’t have set up shop in a city.
Not only that but we already know that the GIW is willing to use heavy artillery and lethal force on people they think MIGHT be under the influence of a ghost or could be ghostly themselves. So if a whole town was showing up as being so ‘ecto-contaminated’ that they are not even registering as fully human anymore you KNOW they’d start coming in to commit genocide.
The GIW isn’t a legal government body/their actions have violated their purview: Admittedly this one isn’t very common, but I HAVE seen it used a few times, so I’m going to talk about it.
First, I really like this because it avoids the trap of just saying ‘Oh the government is inherently evil and wants nothing more than to commit war crimes and genocide’, so big points there. Beyond that though I also just think it makes sense. I mean the US Government has a LOT of departments and I can see them having a small agency dedicated to keeping track of ‘supposedly’ paranormal shit for one reason or another, but I can’t see them getting a lot of funding— like the amount of discretionary funds needed to buy out all of Fentonworks— without them having to bring up the evidence before Congress and the Senate. From there there would definitely be ethical concerns regarding their actions, legislation would be introduced en-mass, and it would cause a national if not international uproar.
So for the GIW to work they’d either need to be a whole sale corrupt and rouge agency taking money from third parties— like Vlad— and going way beyond whatever authority they might have been legitimately granted to do most of the shit they end up doing, or they were never a government body to begin with but a special interest group funded and staffed by fanatics from around the world and are committing several additional crimes in addition to war crimes by impersinating a government agency.
The Anti-Ecto Acts: I honestly can’t remember if these are canon in some form or not, but I see them brought up a lot so I’m talking about them either way.
These make NO SENSE.
Getting something like this through Congress and the Senate would be INSANELY difficult even if you had evidence of an immediate threat. You can say ‘they hid it in another bill’ all you like but that kind of thing is way harder than you think. Even minor bills about laws and regulations that are just being put through for renewal get read over to make sure things aren’t slipped into them. And bigger, more complex laws take months if not YEARS to get passed and end up getting combed over with a fine comb. There would be no way these Acts could be passed without it being a major event that would be dragged out and debated for ages seeing as it’s literally about declaring a complex species non-sentient and opening them for no-holds-barred scientific experimentation and termination. Religious concerns would be brought up, ethical bodies would be formed and disbanded every day, calls would be made for third-party research, and more than a few people would demand that diplomacy be tried.
And if you tie this into DPxDC it makes even LESS sense as it would be against several laws, acts, and clauses that are meant to protect metahumans– please note that metahuman does not just mean having the metagene in DC, it means having extra-human abilities and powers including magic or alien blood.
Sam and Tucker have powers: I mean, there were entire episodes dedicated to Tucker being jealous about Danny having power and Sam pushing Danny to use his powers for social and/or political causes, but I can get behind the idea of the trio all having powers. So long as Sam and Tucker’s powers aren’t based around ghosts at least.
A big point of Danny Phantom’s story is that ghosts were super rare and believed to not exist before the start of the show and that Danny and Vlad’s powers are unheard-of anomalies caused by the Doctors Fentons’ experiments and creations so having other people get ghost powers in more ‘natural’ ways really undermines that and isn’t supported by canon at all. Yes Tucker was being used to resurrect a Pharaoh or something and Sam was the favored puppet of Undergrowth, but that doesn’t mean they would KEEP their powers after the ghosts giving them to them were removed from play. We see this in the episode where a bunch of Casper students get infected by ghost bugs, they got powers while infected and they lost them when the ghosts were removed. Beyond that we also have the time Jazz was almost sacrificed by Johnny to get Kitty back into the living world, she never got any powers from that despite being infused with Kitty’s power and essence and when said essence was removed she returned to a fully mortal human teenager with no powers.
Make Sam a witch or give Tucker nanite implants or something and I have no problem with this idea.
Danny becomes the Ancient of Space: I’ve already said that I like OP Danny, but I don’t think this title makes sense.
Yes I like giving Danny space powers and/or an eldritch space form, but I don’t like calling Danny the Ancient of Space because we don’t know how a ghost gets that title. Giving him this title seems to stem heavily from Space being the equal of Time which is Clockwork’s domain, but the thing is Clockwork isn’t called the Ancient of Time, he’s called the Master of Time. So I just generally feel like calling Danny the Master of Space fits better even if Ancient of Space sounds cooler.
Now onto more DPxDC exclusive stuff–
Jason is a Halfa/a developing Halfa: This is another one of those things where I just think goes too hard against the lore of Danny Phantom to make sense. Just dying and coming back to life does not make someone a Halfa, even if they don’t come back as fully alive. Not only that but it takes a LOT of ectoplasm and power to make a Halfa with Vlad and Danny being blasted with an opening portal and Dani being specifically grown from the DNA and ectoplasm of an existing Halfa. It just feels like its cheapening the existence of Hafas if they could have been created at any point in history using natural resources or general necromancy magic.
The Lazarus Pits are just rancid Ectoplasm: This just doesn’t work in my mind. Yes they are both green and are connected to death, but they don’t function or act anything like each other. Ectoplasm has shown no indication that it can be used to heal wounds or that it can be used to resurrect the dead outside of the creation of Hafas. The Lazarus pits have showcased no ability to be used as an energy source or for the waters to be in any state other than liquid, though it is a highly flammable substance in some interpretations while Ectoplasm can apparently be volatile enough to explode if not properly treated and filtered.
This idea also just cheapens both the Pits and Ectoplasm in different ways, with the Pits making it so Ectoplasm isn’t nearly as rare or tied to ghostly phenomena in the mortal world as we were lead to believe and Ectoplasm being readily available post-Fenton Portal activation making the constant search and hoarding of the Pits kind of useless. That and the Fentons apparently have Ectoplasm filters that I’m guessing could at least partially purify the Pits.
Backtracking a bit to the Jason is a Hafa/developing Halfa thing, a common way for that to be implemented is by saying the Pits are rancid Ectoplasm and he’s got a stunted Core. Well if that was the case than Ra’s Al Ghul would be just as far along as a Halfa as Jason if not being a fully fledged one himself at this point because while he might not have stayed dead as long as Jason in a single stretch– depending on how you look at the timeline of Jason’s revival– he did definitely spend more communicative time being dead over the centuries he’s been alive.
And finally, we know what rancid/corrupted Ectoplasm does to a person. It gives them Ecto-Acne. Which at best puts you in the hospital for years before giving you superpowers and usually would just slowly and painfully kill you.
Danny goes to Gotham: This one really just depends on WHY he goes to Gotham. Like, there’s nothing wrong with having a character go to a new city as the basis for a crossover, but I feel like it should make sense at least you know? And to be fair, most of the posts I’ve seen that talk about Danny going to Gotham do in fact make sense. So yeah, solid trope.
Danny and Damien are Twins: I have no problem with this in a vacuum, but I think people take it too far and ignore things like basic logic. Namely, the fact that for them to be secret twins then you have to acknowledge their looks. If they are fraternal twins then there is no real issue here, but if they are supposed to look super alike or even be capable of being mistaken for each other then there is the minor issue of their ethnicities.
No one ever suspects that Danny isn’t Jack Fenton’s son, and since both Jack and Maddie Fenton are caucasian, that means that Danny looks fully caucasian. Meanwhile, Damien is at very least one-quarter Arabic through his mother– I can’t recall if Talia is one hundred percent Arabic or not but I know Ra’s is– and is often depicted as having at least a dusky skin tone. So if you want them to be identical twins you’d have to say that both Damien and Danny appear to be completely white ethnically.
Maddie Fenton is a former member of the League of Assassins: Two issues with this: One, the League isn’t exactly big on letting people walk away from it, and Maddie isn’t exactly trying to hide from them. And two, we have seen Maddie’s canonical biological sister so unless both of them got away– which is even less likely than one person being allowed to leave– and only Alicia is smart enough to stay low-key, this one doesn’t make much sense.
Danny is dating Jason Todd: I get it, Jason is the second hottest Batfam member and he has some surface level similarities with their temporary white streaks and dead guy themes. But outside of that this one just doesn’t make sense. At least not to me.
For hobbies/civilian life, Jason is semi-canonically and very heavily fan-canonly a literature nerd. Danny hates his English class. Danny is often depicted as liking rock music and video games in his downtime, Jason… I don’t know his music taste is, but he is a neat and tidy book nerd.
For vigilante/hero life, Jason is extremely violent and open to using lethal options to the point where he has attempted to kill at least one of his brothers in nearly every timeline and is a mass murderer/serial killer with a higher body count than some of Batman’s rogues. Danny won’t even keep his worst enemies like Skulker trapped in the Fenton Thermos long-term and never even tries to injure potentially dangerous humans like the Guys In White.
These two personalities aren’t a case of being mix and matched, they are very strongly opposed to each other on a philosophical level and a moral level.
Danny is dating Tim Drake: Again, I get where this comes from, and to be fair it makes a bit more sense than Danny X Jason in so far as Tim not being a violent bipolar and him actually seeming to share some hobbies with Danny, but it still doesn’t work in my mind. That stuff that Vlad did to cause Danny to call him a fruitloop? Tim has done almost all of it. He’s a stalker, he clones people when he can’t have the real version, he has used his resources to fuck with people– though Tim’s actions in that sense aren’t nearly as bad as Vlad’s–, he has gone batshit crazy in grief before… need I go on?
So yeah, as much as I like the idea of neurotic sleep-deprived heroes falling into each other’s arms, this doesn’t work. Tim is too fucked up for Danny to want to get involved with. It would be too much like Maddie deciding to give Vlad a shot.
Danny is dating Cassandra Cain: Not as popular as Danny X Jason or Danny X Tim, but I’ve seen a couple of these.
This has some of the same problems as Danny X Jason in that they don’t seem to have any real hobbies in common, but it has the advantage in that their temperaments and personalities are at least somewhat more in line with each other. They both really like and really don’t like fighting, they both have issues with their parents who want them to follow in their footsteps while also being open to killing them, they latch onto friend groups as family, are both anti-killing despite being super lethal living weapons, they tend to be pretty chill out of combat situations to the point where they can even be blase about pretty crazy shit, et cetera. But they don’t have many if any overlapping interests… then again, most people tend to say that Cass and Stephanie are pretty close friends, and I think that is canon in some timelines, and as I will be talking about soon Danny and Steph have a fair bit in common so… yeah.
This one has some really good fanfics running for it though, such as ‘lex luthor's ascent from supervillainy to fatherhood’ by Halfgone over on AO3. A fic that I highly recommend.
Danny is dating Stephanie Brown: Even rarer than Danny X Cass as far as I have been able to see, but it’s also the one that makes the most sense in my eyes. The same snarky attitude, love of puns and messing with the people they are fight, they both have issues with their parents, they fight for things that their fathers’ are completely opposed to, and depending on the DC timeline and your stance on Danny being Dani’s father both are teenaged parents.
They also don’t, as far as I can tell, have anything that makes them opposed to each other. So while this one doesn’t have a ton of civilian weight behind it, it also doesn’t have anything against it. A solid choice despite not being very popular.
I still prefer Danny X Cass or Danny X Raven though.
Danny is gay/bi: I have no problem with this. Let me say that again, I HAVE NO PROBLEM WITH THIS. I think that as a fictional character being used in fanfiction things like sexuality can be altered in whatever way the writer desires– it’s different when it’s a canon continuation of an existing work, but fanfiction is anything goes– but dear gods people PLEASE pick better dating options for Danny. I know that people think Jason Todd and Tim Drake are hot and fun characters, and they are, but as I already ranted about they are NOT good dating options for Danny.
Personally, I think Cyborg works better, or some incarnations of Conner Kent.
Danny has been to Krypton: For most timelines used this requires some time travel along with the intergalactic travel, but I find this one to be very fun. Be it just Danny having visited Krypton and having some stories about the place, maybe some souvenirs, or Danny accidentally/on purpose being revered as a god of the planet. It’s a fun addition or starting point to a story.
Kryptonite is Ecto-Candy: This makes no sense and I don’t like it enough to ignore that. Krypton blew up in the mortal universe within the last fifty years according to most canon timelines and even if the ENTIRE planet became Kryptonite– which it might have to be honest, I’m not sure about that– and 50% of it fell into the Infinite Realms– which makes no sense statistically even with natural portals being a thing– that still isn’t a lot of mass for an INFINITE dimension, plus the timeline would make it a relatively very recent thing to ghosts. And that’s ignoring the fact that Kryptonite is not in any way, shape, or form the same thing as Ectoplasm no matter how you split it outside of that one issue that says Kryptonite is the crystalized screams of horror and pain of everyone who died on Krypton.
Danny is a Martian Manhunter Fanboy: No real notes here. It fits, makes sense, and is often used in a fun way.
Danny hates rich people: This one is funny sure, but it doesn’t make sense. Sam is rich. Danny was rich for a bit. Ghost King Danny is beyond rich. Danny is often written in fanfics to be friends with the likes of Pandora and Dorthea who are both rich. Really he just doesn’t like Vlad because of who he is, it has nothing to do with him being rich.
The Justice League abandoned Amity Park: I don’t like this one. It just doesn’t seem like something the Justice League would do. They have too many heroes that specialize in the paranormal and Batman sure as hell wouldn’t let something like an interdimensional portal remain open without being super on top of it and studying it in case of a worst-case scenario like what happened in Reign Storm.
I’ve seen variants of this where the reasoning is that John Constantine labeled it a no go zone to avoid the possibility of a superhero getting possessed and used as a meat suit to cause mass destruction and chaos, which does make more sense, but if that were the case then the JLD would be aware of the situation and would at the very least check in on some of the bigger events like when Undergrowth attacked, Vortex’s whole deal– particularly when his storm covered the entire world except for Amity park– Pariah Dark’s invasion/abduction, when Fright Knight attacked, and when Clockwork showed up and Dark Danny followed suit.
So really this idea just seems like a way to include shallow drama where Danny hates the Justice League or other heroes in general and feels upset that he, as an untrained teenager, was left to defend his town all by himself… just like Static Shock tends to do.
The Justice League thinks Danny is Immortal and hundreds/thousands of years old: No real notes here either. Danny has time traveled in canon, there are a lot of fanon things involving him doing it even more, and I can definitely see him playing into the bit to avoid being treated like a kid who needs to listen to his elders ala Billy Batson as Shazam.
Clockwork is Chronos: This requires a LOT of hoops being jumped through and a lot of ignoring of the mythology of Chronos himself, but they are both super powerful time deities so… I see where it comes from at least. And it allows for stuff like saying Danny and Wonder Woman are family.
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There are a lot more tropes and such that I’ve seen here and on dedicated fanfic sites in the Danny Phantom and DPxDC fandoms, but this is already an incredibly long post so I’m going to end things here. If anyone has anything they want to add or comments they want to give, feel free to leave them! Just don’t be a dick and don’t PM me anonymously with insults and threats. I’ll just report and block you.
#danny phantom#danny fenton#crossover#dpxdc#dc comics#dead on main#Dead tired#brain dead#Jason Todd#Tim Drake#Cassandra Cain#Stephanie Brown#Damien Wayne#rant post#rant#opinion#unpopular opinion#ghost king danny#ghost king au#demon twins#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#danny phantom crossover#everlasting trio#eternal trio#tropes#fanfiction#fanfic tropes#I don't know how to tag
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cruel summer
summary: steve gives you a ride home after a late night working at the mall.
pairing: steve harrington x henderson!sister reader
title 🎵: cruel summer by bananarama
It’s summertime. While most of your friends are spending the season outside and relaxing under the sun, you’re stuck working inside all day at Starcourt Mall. You got a job at Waldenbooks because you’re trying to save up money to buy a car. You’re about to enter your senior year at Hawkins High and you want to be able to drive yourself to school instead of bumming rides off of friends.
At least you’re not completely alone at the mall. Steve Harrington works at Scoops Ahoy, which isn’t too far from Waldenbooks. Sometimes when things are slow at the bookstore, you go down to the ice cream parlor to hang out with Steve.
You became friends with Steve last fall around the same time that your little brother, Dustin, started bonding with him. But you think that working at the mall has really brought you and Steve closer together. Over the past few weeks, you two have been seeing each other on a daily basis. Steve’s face lights up every time he sees you walk into Scoops Ahoy and it always makes your day when Steve visits you at Waldenbooks. You and Steve genuinely enjoy spending time together.
Whenever you’re both working late, Steve offers to give you a ride home. The last bus always leaves as soon as the mall closes and most of the time you need to stay later. Tonight is one of those nights. You’re working OT, re-organizing a bookshelf after some kids moved several titles around, and Steve has to stay late waiting for a shipment. The delivery driver is running way behind schedule.
By the time you finish work, the mall is closed. You go downstairs to Scoops Ahoy. Just as you arrive, you see Steve walking out of the ice cream parlor.
“You ready to go?” he asks you.
“Yeah,” you nod.
You watch him pull down the security gate and lock it. Then you two make your way to the exit. No one else is around and most of the lights are off except for the big neon signs outside of the stores. You love it when the mall is closed because it's so quiet and calm.
“You know, I think I prefer the mall like this,” you say.
“Me too,” Steve agrees.
You and Steve walk together across an almost empty parking lot until you reach his red BMW. He gets in the driver’s seat and you sit shotgun. You keep your eyes on the rearview mirror, watching Starcourt getting smaller and smaller as Steve drives away.
“I feel like I need to enjoy this time alone with you while I still can. Because when Dustin gets back from camp, you’re gonna want to spend all your time with him insead,” you joke.
Steve chuckles, shaking his head.
“That’s not true. I’ll still wanna hang out with you too...”
You look down at your lap, hoping Steve doesn’t see you blush.
“Truth is, hanging out with you these past few weeks has been the best part of my job. Scoops Ahoy totally sucks! The only reason I have this stupid job in the first place is because I couldn’t even get into Tech and my douchebag dad’s trying to teach me a lesson. I make like $3 an hour slinging ice cream and I have no future…” Steve vents.
You shake your head.
“Don’t say that! You have a future,” you try.
“I just don’t want to be stuck in Hawkins forever…” Steve shrugs.
You take a deep breath.
“Steve, I get it… Honestly I think part of me wants a car so badly because I’m afraid I’ll never get out of Hawkins. That car is like my last ditch exit plan. I don’t want to be stuck here either,” you quietly admit.
Steve sighs, understanding. It’s comfortably quiet for a moment. And then-
“I forget about all that shit when I'm with you though…” Steve says.
You bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from grinning ear to ear. Steve looks at you and sees you blushing. You couldn’t hide it from him this time. You shyly smile back him and then change the subject-
“You should lose the sailor’s hat. It’s hiding your best feature,” you suggest.
Steve nods in agreement.
“Yeah, I know! It completely screws up my game. But I have to wear it… company policy,” he complains.
You slowly reach towards Steve.
“Well you’re off the clock now-”
You take the hat off Steve's head and toss it in the back seat.
“Much better,” you smile.
Steve smiles back at you. You look into each other’s eyes. You both feel the electricity in this moment. After a beat, Steve turns his focus back to the road. The car is approaching your street.
“Ok so I’ll just turn right and take you home…. Or I could keep going straight and then we’ll just be driving around town for a while,” Steve tells you.
Steve is having a good time. He doesn’t want this night to end. And neither do you.
“Keep going straight,” you nod.
#stranger things#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things fanfic#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x henderson!sister reader
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very random hcs that i have for hq characters
sakusa kiyoomi , suna rin , atsumu miya
sakusa kiyoomi loves bubble wrap. as a kid whenever his mother would open packages he’d immediately go and snatch up the wrap and pop it as he watched tv. now as an adult, when opening his own packages you see him completely by passing the product in the box at first and taking a fist of the wrap - squashing it all at once - and pausing.he’s still with the wrap balled in his fist. it���s like his brain is soaking it in. once he’s done , he will proceed with his package.
sakusa kiyoomi has a thing for long eyelashes. he himself has long, thick lashes. they’re very curly and hard not to notice. he always feels when one falls and he always. makes. a . wish. on. it. he’ll hold the small hair on his large finger, muttering under his mask and then lifting the mask to blow it. when he met you, he’s always quick to chime a ,” oh , you have a lash,” and he carefully takes it in his hand so you can blow it with a wish.
sakusa kiyoomi cries when he expresses his feelings. personally, i do this too and it comes from two things . first being that because he doesn’t do it often, it really overwhelms him when it bubbles over and second being that he doesn’t understand why he can’t articulate how he feels. it’s very frustrating for such an intellectual person to not be able to understand how he feels. so when he vents - he ponders for a bit, he may even stutter and his voice becomes thin, weak like glass. tears wash over his pretty lash line and spill when you tell him to take his time. it’s a very difficult thing to take dow his walls, and he cannot help but to be super emotional when doing so.
sakusa kiyoomi - does in fact- not smell like sanitiser ; but very strong lavender AND HEAR ME OUT N O W.
my first point of reasoning is that kiyoomi likes clean things, he likes feeling clean and smelling clean. his sister has a lavender tree at her home and he once grabbed some, the feeling of the liquid held in the leaves on his fingers. he brought it up to his nose and he was inlove. immediately got his own and got EVERYTHING lavender scented.
second point, kiyoomi is a pisces and he’s going to be inclined to feeling anxious a lot. he doesn’t like crowds. lavender is used commonly for anxiety relief and relaxation. kiyoomi tries to make it as strong as possible so that he can simply sniff his jacket if he’s feeling too overwhelmed. it’s a big comfort to him.
suna rin has an abnormally high body temperature. it’s mainly because of his high metabolism, but really he can’t explain it. he can’t wear anything warm and he always takes off his school blazer five minutes into registration. when you first felt his hand, you were severely taken aback by the feverish warmth of it. you asked if he was sick and he shook his head in confusion. you felt his neck, his forehead- same story. rin was just extremely warm. he loves putting his warm palms up your sides or on your cheeks, squishing them together and placing fat kisses on them. he’s your personal heater - and although he gets quite bothersome during summer- he will not be considerate. despite your pleas of “ rin, you’re hot-”,” oh? thanks , babe, but it’s bedtime-”,“get off me.” he will not move. he wants his cuddles.
suna rin doesn’t like babies. he likes kids, not babies. he will straight up say that a baby is ugly if provoked. even unprovoked too😭. will straight out say ‘ damn, that’s an ugly ass child’ earning glares from everyone around you. it’s funny , for the most part , how his words contradict with his actions . said ‘ugly ass child’ is in his arms a few moments later and he looks as if he was born to hold it. he peers down at the babe affectionately, cooing at it, and when you’re alone with the baby he musters ,” aren’t you the ugliest little thing?” in the sweetest voice he can. you nearly choke on your laughter, slapping his arm and telling him to quit it. still thinks the kid is ugly.
suna rin got the habit of taking pictures of everything from his mother. she loves capturing moments and even as a child she’d often take pictures of him doing mundane things such as playing with his baby sister or talking to his dad. rin grew up with the sentiment because he always wanted to remember little things for entertainment and the fondness of the memory. he takes candid pictures of you, sneezing or sleeping even, his answer to your many enquiries have the same answer : “ i never wanna forget anything that happens when i’m with you. “ for a second you think someone’s taken your actual boyfriend, but when he scoffs at your warm cheeks- calling you a simp- you’re sure he’s just the sweetest person you’ve ever met naturally .
atsumu miya is scared of butterflies. he thinks their little legs are absolutely horrific , and they’re basically flying ants. when his family visited the butterfly farm years ago, they put one on his palm and he immediately burst into tears. he shook his hand to remove it and when his mother calmed him down he explained that ,” it jus’ feels so icky, ma! they’re gross!” and he NEVER spoke of it again. whenever you see a butterfly and grab your phone for a picture, he grimaces. “ why do you like those ugly things, babe? they’re fuckin’ awful.” he mutters to you. you give him a bored look, and retort quickly ,” you mean you’re awful- and you have no balls an-“,” heYY WATCH IT!”
atsumu miya is the hairiest man you’ll ever meet. it’s just everywhere. thick, dark brown hair coats his arms, legs, chest at a young age, he has a wild happy trail and his eyebrows are extremely thick. they used to be very unkept until highschool , when he was made fun of for both his eyebrows and trail- so he shaved them. in college he became less self conscious, and you started tweezing his brows for him. he would sit you on his lap, watching you focus and yelping every few minutes. “ ah- baby, gentle with me now,” he whines softly.you mutter a small apology and rub the now hairless spot, to which he hums and holds your waist tighter.
atsumu miya is a daddy’s boy. he’s so close with his father it’s crazy. his mother tended to side with osamu, and she was the one who taught him to cook, so atsumu just leaned towards his dad. of course, the man never minded it and took in all the love his son had to give. they spoke about everything, and on his dad’s 70th birthday atsumu had gotten him a new car. there was a letter on the front seat that read ,” i could never give back what you did for me, papa, but i’ll try anyways. just know that when i’m workin’ hard , i’m tryin’ ta be like you.” they both cried that day. it was beautiful.
#sakusa x reader#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakusa headcanons#sakusa kiyoomi headcanons#sakusa fluff#sakusa kiyoomi fluff#suna rintarou#suna rin#suna x reader#suna rintarou x reader#suna fluff#suna rintarou fluff#suna headcanons#suna rintarou headcanons#atsumu miya#atsumu x reader#atsumu miya x reader#atsumu headcanons#atsumu miya headcanons#atsumu fluff#atsumu miya fluff#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x gn reader
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Request for metal bat/garou / flashy flash reaction after he made s/o cry with their word. Like really rude or angry that hurt s/o feeling
Oop- so a part two on the making reader cry series 🥱
Ik I took my time..was quite busy. BUT I HOPE Y’ALL HAD A NICE NEW YEARS EVE!!
When they make you cry Pt. 2
Included: Metal bat, Garou, flashy flash
Gn!reader
Requests are open!!
Metal bat
I Can’t imagine this guy ever being rude to you
Like he treats his little sister like royalty so I believe he’d be no less with you
But let’s say he had a REALLY REALLY bad day
And you just happen to want to tell him about your day because you saw something really funny
“Could you just shut up for once. Seriously.”
You try asking him what’s wrong but he keeps dismissing you and it makes you mad. Mad to the point where you’re crying from frustration.
He doesn’t notice your tears at first but once he does he immediately regrets it. 
He’d look at you all worried and wouldn’t know how to stop making you cry so he stands there next to you not knowing what to do with his hands. Should he wipe your tears? Pull you into a hug? Damn zenko never taught him this stuff.
“Please don’t cry- I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry!”
Thinks he’s the biggest jerk and asshole for making you cry and won’t forgive himself.
Will explain to you that he had a bad day and apologize for lashing out on you.
Will give you the best treatment afterwards and spoil you rotten to make you feel better
Garou
Getting into feisty arguments and fights with this guy was not rare in your relationship. You’d sometimes even go days without speaking.
But this time was different. You both got into a fight which escalated a LOT. Garou’s self control got out of hand and he said some things that hurt you like nothing ever did. It felt like he stabbed right into your heart.
Of course you started to cry. Was that really the way he thought about you?
He realized himself that what he said was a bit too much when massaging his temples out of frustration, “ah shit..look Y/N forget what I said.”
But that would just make you more upset. How could he simply take back something this severe?
He couldn’t stand seeing you cry in front of him. You really were one of his only weaknesses.
He’d pull you into a tight hug and wouldn’t let go even if you demanded to.
“Not letting ya go..y’know I love you right?”
You both are too stubborn to admit one of you was in the wrong but he still apologizes in his own way.
Lots of physical affection. He will make sure not to lash out on you like that again
Flashy flash
While he tends to avoid unnecessary conflict especially with his lover, he simply won’t stand still if something bothers him - even if it’s you.
Sometimes you could just be a little too much for him, a little too overbearing.
And Flashy flash was one to bluntly say what was on his mind. There was no need for sugar coating.
So when he said that you were being too much on him, it came off harsher than intended.
You were immediately drawing to conclusions, thinking that he wanted to break up with you. It was only natural for tears to fall down your cheeks.
Flashy flash certainly got surprised. This was the first time he’s ever seen you in such a vulnerable state. The first time he’s seen you cry.
Without a word he’d immediately wrap his arms around you, something rather unusual for him to do even as your boyfriend.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
He’d mutter a little apology and let you cry yourself out.
Little words would be spoken to eachother but you’d both understand what the other felt. And you’d both try to better yourselves for the other.
#flashy flash#flashy flash x reader#one punch man#garou#headcanons#garou x reader#garou opm#metal bat x y/n#metal bat x reader#metal bat#opm headcanons#opm#opm garou#genos x reader
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