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chaconnehoonie · 3 days

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Obsession-(follow up) L.HS

✶ Heeseung X Fem! Reader

->This is a follow up to the first part, but you may read it alone if you please, reading the first part is just recommended to get the full story.

Synopsis- Your relationship with Heeseung proves that sometimes you’re forced to make commitments and sacrifices for those you love.

WC: 3.4k

Warnings: toxic relationship, cursing, insecurity, derogatory terms, smut, angst

Smut warnings: dub-con(?), oral(m) somnophilia, kissing, unprotected sex, spanking, rough sex, orgasm denial

A/N: I know I posted the first part to this a while ago but I felt so disappointed with it that I wanted to write something to follow up with. I’m also terrible with my writing schedule so hopefully this will get me back in the game, enjoy!

This is fiction and the scenarios are completely fake and from my brain, none of the characters are like this in real life, MDNI!

Heeseung was trying to be a good boyfriend. Sure, there are moments where he frustrates you or makes you question your relationship. But relationships are all about making commitments, right?

You’re committed to Heeseung- of course you’ll do whatever it takes to be with him. You’ll put up with his mood swings or his trust issues, accepting that he may just be a naturally jealous person.

He makes it hard, though, as he’s too jealous sometimes. He always has trouble believing you only have eyes for him, whether it’s when a stranger is checking you out at a party or you’re being too close for his liking with your best friends—who just so happen to be guys.

God, you love your friends, but it’s clear that Heeseung doesn’t. You don’t expect him to, of course, however you expect him to accept your close bonds with all three of them. They were existent in your life before him, after all.

You can’t bring this up around him though, as he gets quiet each time, stuck in his thoughts and fears of you leaving him. Being the understanding girlfriend you are, you decided to show him just how special he is to you.

✶.

Heeseung sits alone on the couch in your living room, mindlessly scrolling through Netflix in search for new movies or series to start. Since the beginning of your relationship, you both decided on having movie nights every Friday; cuddling up on the couch together with a warm blanket and a plethora of snacks.

You haven’t come home yet, sending him a quick message to let him know you’d be stopping by a grocery store for snacks, then you’ll speed home to see him.

He sits there and waits, grabbing a bag of chips to munch on, watches trailers for new horror movies with stupid plots and terrible actors, then waits some more.

What’s taking you so long? It’s not like you would stand him up, it’s not like you can stand him up—he’s in your house, anyways. Maybe the checkout line is taking too long. Maybe you stopped to buy some alcohol too, or what if that’s what you were planning but forgot your ID in the car?

What if he’s actually going the wrong rout and you had gotten into an accident? Or decided you didn’t like him anymore and wanted to sneak off with someone else before seeing him tonight- “Baby?”

Heeseung jumps at the sound of your voice, quickly turning around to see you shutting the front door, hanging your keys and slipping off your shoes. He had been so caught up in his thoughts, he didn’t even hear the front door opening.

Your face holds a concerned look, rounding the couch and placing your bags next to Heeseung before dropping to your knees in front of him. “You okay? What happened?” Your hands gently caressed his knees in hopes to comfort him, knowing he’s a sucker for physical touch.

He only shakes his head and pulls you to sit next to him. “Nothing, pretty. I just really missed you.” His voice sounds unsure, but you decided to accept his answer, knowing he hates being pushed to open up.

“I missed you too, cutie. I actually bought something I want to show you.” You peck his nose and his eyes light up in excitement. “I need to go prepare it in my room, but I’ll be back out before you know it.” You smile at him and he nods quickly. “I have to use the bathroom anyways. Perfect timing, I guess.”

You place a soft kiss on his upper lip before grabbing one of your bags and rushing upstairs while Heeseung makes his way to the bathroom. He takes a long look at himself, analyzing his features and taking note of how much better he’s been looking since he’s gotten with you. He’s taken care of himself more, focusing on eating healthier and getting haircuts more often, as well as doing some skincare and shaving his facial hair.

He really feels better with you, smiling to himself in the mirror when he realizes that he’s truly in love with you. He loves you—and he hopes you feel the same way.

After flushing the toilet and leaving the tap running for a minute, Heeseung makes his way out of the bathroom, pausing when he sees you wrapped up in your blanket, waiting for him on the couch.

Walking up hesitantly, he smiles anxiously at you. “What did you wanna-“ he’s cut off when you throw the blanket off of yourself, sat prettily with the most delicate lingerie adorning your body.

Black lace cups your breasts with thin straps hardly covering your shoulders, matching black lace panties sitting high and tight on your hips as the fat of your hips and butt jut out around the material.

Heeseung stands in front of you stiffly, mouth hung open and eyes locked on your figure. Siting up, you reach a hand towards his face and place it under his chin, gently forcing his jaw shut.

“Do you like it?” Your voice is soft and sultry, provoking him to finally touch you. He strokes your head, feeling your soft hair under his fingertips. He’s so in love with you— just that touch sends blood straight to the weight between his legs and he’s suddenly too weak to stand.

Sitting on the couch, he pulls you onto his lap without breaking eye contact. “I’ll take that as a yes.” You giggle and cup his cheek, pulling him into a kiss that only lasts a second as he’s murmuring against your lips. “Yes- fuck, yes.”

You gasp when he pinches one of your nipples through your thin lacy bra. Pushing his tongue into your mouth, he plays with your own in a mess of drool and moans, all while rocking your hips against his.

He pulls away to moan loudly, resting his head on the back of the couch. “I’m glad you like it.” You kiss his neck, licking his jaw slowly before sucking a mark into his skin.

“The boys helped me pick it out.”

His eyes shoot open at this, quickly sitting up and looking you in the eyes. “The boys?” He furrows his brows, confused, but also hurt. You let the boys-Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon, not only see you in lingerie but pick it out? For your boyfriend to see later on?

“What do you mean they helped you pick it out? Like you went to the store together and let them chose it? They seen you in it?” He sounds like he’s going to cry, voice cracking but there’s also a hint of anger.

You nod, eyes wide and worried. “Well, yes. I asked for their opinions because they’re also guys, you know? I thought that’d be the best way to figure out what you’d like…” you trail off as you take note of the irritation appearing on his face.

He finds no point in complaining, no reason to explain why he’s so hurt. Instead, he pushes you off of his lap rather harshly and you land on the soft cushions with a quiet ‘oof’. Of course he didn’t mean to be so aggressive, but with the way he stomps to the front door and angrily grabs his keys, slamming the door shut as he leaves, you can’t help but tear up at his angry demeanor.

Was he really that upset? Over your friends helping pick out a gift, for him? Sure, maybe you didn’t have to wear the lingerie while showing them but Heeseung should know by now that your relationship with your friends is nothing more than platonic.

Deciding you’re too heart broken after being left so alone and exposed, you head to bed early. Well, not exactly early if 11pm was anything to go by, definitely too late for Heeseung to randomly leave and expect you not to worry, but early enough for you to sleep off the mental pain and end up in a better mood in the morning.

✶.

You wake up as an odd weight hits your cheek, repeatedly tapping on your face as you feel the warmth radiating onto your skin. Your eyes open slowly, blinking a few times to fully wake yourself up.

It’s still dark, but you can make out the silhouette of someone standing uncomfortably close to you. Taking in a sharp breath, you turn to your alarm clock and note that it’s around 2am, quickly reaching to turn on the bedside lamp.

The light flickers on and Heeseung groans, quickly reaching his own hand to switch it back off. While he does that, you notice the way he’s fully clothed, save for his hard-on that’s currently face-to-face with you, peeking out from above his sweatpants.

“What-“ you’re cut off as he places a finger upon your lips, slipping it between them and into your mouth to tug your jaw open. You can’t tell what he’s doing with the lights off, but you don’t wonder for long as you suddenly feel his tip entering your mouth, sliding against your tongue.

You’re stiff, laying there in shock as he uses your mouth for his own pleasure, biting his lip with a groan. Heeseung has grown to be more comfortable around you, no longer trying to impress you in order to get you to like him, yet instead trying to impress you to get you to keep liking him—always outdoing himself to prove he’s worth your love.

However, he’s still shy at times, especially intimate times, so seeing him fully take control of you, take advantage of your sleeping figure, is new to you. It’s kind of arousing, but after what happened earlier you just can’t get yourself to enjoy it.

Especially with the way he grips the back of your head and shoves himself fully into your throat, holding you there until you gag and drool onto the ground. The position is awkward; he’s standing in front of you while you’re laying on your side, head hovering off the bed just enough to miss the sheets as your spit strings onto the wooden floor.

He lets out a deep moan, mumbling to himself about how wet and warm your mouth is, but not directly speaking to you. How could he speak to you after what you pulled earlier? Why would you deserve praise for going out and prancing around like that with your friends, basically slutting yourself out for them?

What you do deserve is the harsh thrusts of his hips as he fucks your mouth, pulling your hair harshly as he keeps your head in place while his cock suffocates you. You try to breathe through your nose, but you only choke and whine around him as tears blur your vision, not like you can see much in the dark, anyways.

He groans louder, thrusts harder, grips harder, all while you lay there and take it. He lets out a particularly loud moan as he pulls your head towards him, shoving your face far enough to touch your nose to his pubic bone, and then he’s cumming down your throat.

His hips are still as he twirls strands of your hair between his fingers, holding you in place as his release fills your mouth.

Finally pulling out, he breathes heavily before stuffing himself back into his sweats. He makes his way to the bathroom, situating himself before coming back to bed and wrapping an arm around you, pulling you close enough to be his little spoon. It confuses you, but you’d rather have this than have him stay angry at you.

“Thank you, pretty.”

✶.

The next day goes by smoothly, Heeseung acts completely normal when he goes to work for a couple hours, then coming home as you prepare lunch.

You’re glad he has work early enough for him to be done by the afternoon, but sometimes you wish he could stay in bed with you just a little longer than leaving at 5am, but at least he gets to come back at 1pm and spend the rest of the day how he pleases. You quickly learn though, that today he decides to use the day as he pleases by pleasing himself.

As you put ramen to boil and chop vegetables, humming a random song to yourself, you hear the front door shut. It doesn’t slam, so you know Heeseung isn’t angry, at least not enough to show it.

He walks up behind you, grabbing onto your waist and you smile, turning around for a kiss. He grips your chin, turning your face back to the counter and speaks lowly in your ear. “Keep chopping.” His voice is stern and you know he’s serious.

You hesitantly pick up the knife again, slowly cutting the vegetables as he pulls down your pants, panties going along with them, leaving you bare and exposed for him. It was only last night he was using you for himself, maybe he’s repaying the favor?

That idea is quickly shut down as you feel his tip prodding at your not very wet entrance, wincing at the stretch of the head doing its best to make its way between your folds. Of course you’ve both have had sex without foreplay before, but that was after a while of kissing and obvious arousal.

This time, he fills you up dry with only his precum coating your walls. You whine at the pain, stepping closer to the counter in an attempt to get away from him, but he only manhandles you back towards him.

Pulling out to the tip, he gives you a second to breathe before he pushes himself all the way back in, continuing with rough thrusts. He lands a loud slap to your ass, leaning forward and biting onto your shoulder. You cry out in pain, trying to take his cock the best you can while he uses you once again.

He’s fucking you, skin to skin, so that must mean he’s not upset anymore. You try to convince yourself as he thrusts harder, hands bruising your waist and hips as his knuckles turn white from holding you so tight.

He’s more vocal this time, moaning into your ear as you bounce between him and the counter top, knife now laying further away from you and vegetables roll off the counter, landing with a hard thud on the floor.

You moan as he picks up the pace almost inhumanly fast, wet sounds showing signs that you’re finally aroused enough, the slide of his cock against your walls is no longer painful.

He pushes your upper half forward more, fully bending you over the counter as he lands a harsh slap against your ass, echoing through the kitchen along with your high pitched moans.

His thighs slap against the back of your own, wet and covered in slick as you can’t hold back the squelching noises your pussy makes while being stuffed full.

“Oh God, Hee…” You whine but he’s tired of hearing you, placing his palm over your mouth to muffle your moans. “I don’t wanna hear it.” This confuses you, mainly because he’s always loved hearing your noises—proof that he’s pleasing you right. But now, he suddenly doesn’t want to hear them? Going as far as covering your mouth to shut you up?

Even with this hurt side of you, the pleasure is undeniable and before you can process it, you’re close to orgasm as Heeseung lands another harsh slap against your ass.

“Hee-baby, I’m gonna cum!” You pant heavily, inhaling a deep breath in preparation for your orgasm, only for it to be taken away from you. “No you’re not.” Heeseung slides his wet cock out of you, instead spreading your ass and pushing himself between your cheeks.

You scoff, now frustrated and in pain, wondering if this is what blue balls must feel like. You try to reach back and slide him back in, but he grips your wrist, pulling both of your arms back so your cheek lands harshly onto the counter top. Wincing, tears start pricking your eyes and you try to squirm away from him.

“Not letting you…d-don’t deserve to cum.” He grits through his teeth, pushing your butt cheeks together tightly as he thrusts, still keeping his fast pace.

Leaning forward, he rests his forehead between your shoulder blades, finally releasing as ropes of cum spurt out of his tip, landing across your back and staining your shirt, some reaching your hair to find in a sticky mess later.

You’re both panting, catching your breaths after whatever kind of rough, angry sex session that was. Still confused, you try to turn around, calling out to your quiet boyfriend. “Heeseung…” your voice is soft and comforting, and as much as he wants to accept it, he just keeps you turned around.

“Just- don’t.” That’s all he says before tucking himself back into his jeans and walking upstairs. The bathroom door shuts, still not slamming, but you can now tell that he is definitely still angry at you.

✶.

“So, what? He’s upset that we helped you and now you guys are having hot steamy hate sex?” Jake laughs to himself, taking a bowl of ramen from Sunghoon. A bowl of ramen you cooked for Heeseung.

You sigh, playing with your own ramen as you push it around the bowl with your chopsticks. “Yeah…I was cooking this when he came home and he just…did that.” You trail off at the end, not wanting to go into detail because no matter how good it felt, you were still hurt.

“Waitwaitwait.” Jay mutters with his mouth full, swallowing harshly before speaking again. “This ramen doesn’t have a special ingredient, right? His cum shot didn’t fly into here and now I’m consuming his babies?”

“Dude! What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“Come on- I’m trying to eat here!”

“You’re actually disgusting.”

Sunghoon gags as he imagines the scene playing out, downing his glass of water to calm himself. You pat him on the back as he keeps gagging, mainly to piss off Jay who now regrets what he said.

“Okay, Hoon. You can stop now, I get it.” Jay rolls his eyes, picking up his beer bottle and taking a sip while sending glares towards his friend.

Your face drops to your palms, sighing again as you think about these past two days. “He left like an hour before I invited you guys over.” You speak up, eyes teary as you bite your lip. “He didn’t eat…didn’t say goodbye…he just left.” You break down, a sob escaping your lips at the thought of your boyfriend leaving you so alone and embarrassed.

“Do you know what this means?” Sunghoon places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly to ease your tension. You shake your head no, confused as to what he’s implying.

He sighs, looking between Jake and Jay, then back at you. “This means you’re going to have to choose.” Your eyes widen, shaking your head more aggressively now.

“What do you mean choose?” You can’t believe they’d recommend something like this. “You know, choose if you want to stay with him. Let him treat you like that, let him get away with those things.”

He grabs your hand, keeping his eyes locked with yours. “Or you can choose to stay with us. Keep being our friend, let us save you from this disaster.” His words hurt, but you know they must be true. “He just…” you inhale a shaky breath, “He just needs time. We’ll figure something out.”

Yeah, that’ll fix it. You’ll figure out a way to keep Heeseung happy and stay close to your best friends. Hopefully, without cutting any ties or creating an awkward atmosphere. But you’ll do whatever it takes to keep each of your boys happy.

#enhypen smut #enhypen x female reader #heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #enhypen angst

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scoobydoodean · 2 days

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ok so forewarning, i don’t really have a question here, just lots of thoughts.

there’s so many layers to the general *badness* about the mia vallens therapy scene. like to the manipulation (for lack of a better word) that sam rewrites. like it makes such a difference that she thinks jack is their little brother instead of the son of the thing that killed dean’s best friend/loml. not to mention the fact that it’s been what like a week since *everything*

and like yes dean’s being cold towards jack and giving him orders (which, i could argue they weren’t uncalled-for), but tbh he’s only being moderately colder/more direct with him than he’s been with cas at times on hunts (thinking hunteri heroici) and even similar to how *sam* has been with like claire and even dean himself (thinking that episode dean turned into a teenager and all of MOC). like genuinely, how was sam expecting him to act like?

also (half joking) i genuinely think dean would’ve warmed up to jack even quicker than he did (we can already see it in this same episode, like that look he gives jack when he asks mia if buddy hurt her too) if he heard jack say he hates anakin skywalker lol

ok wait i do have a question. do you think jack actually was “terrified” of dean during that therapy scene?

(post linking to some context)

Okay so I rewatched 13.01-13.04 on a plane this past week so it's all extra fresh on my mind rn. The thing about 13.04 is that Dean wasn't comfortable bringing Jack on the hunt, and Jack didn't want to go, but Sam pushed insistently for all of them to go on the hunt together... primarily because Dean's feelings were thwarting Sam's plans for Jack and his own emotional coping mechanisms in a larger sense.

I think Dean's feelings compared to Sam's here are relatively more simple (and yet somehow still intensely misunderstood to a baffling degree). Dean was grieving. He was grieving Cas who died right in front of him, he was grieving Crowley (he pleads with Chuck to bring "even Crowley" back in 13.01!) and he was grieving Mary.

The thing with Dean's grief over Cas is this: instead of viewing it from Dean's perspective, we tend to analyze it as omniscient viewers who know Cas will come back, refusing see how miraculous Cas’s return truly was. We refuse to see Cas's death was different this time and appeared very permanent. There was no uncertainty like there was in season 7 or 8. His wings burned into the ground and his grace extinguished. Dean pleaded and prayed for Cas and Mary and Crowley's return to the only person who ever brought Cas back from certain death (via explosion in 5.01 and 5.22)—the person who told Dean in 11.23 he was leaving and Dean was on his own. Dean didn't hear back. The ONLY reason Cas comes back in 13.05 is that 1) Jack woke him him up unwittingly using powers no one knew he possessed and 2) Cas then annoyed a creature they didn't even know existed into letting him out of a place they 3) didn't even know existed and 4) Cas somehow came back with a body even though he had been burned to ash. All of this is completely miraculous. It was unforeseeable. It doesn’t even make complete sense as a viewer. In other words, Dean has ZERO reason to hope for Cas's return. There was ZERO reason to refuse to acknowledge that grief… but that's exactly what Sam does. He suggests Dean pray for Chuck to bring Cas back in 13.01. As soon as Sam knew Dean already tried that and Cas was DEAD dead, he treated Cas as something Dean needed to reframe and get over:

SAM: You thinking mom is gone and Cas is gone, and that Jack can’t be saved. Dean, after everything we’ve gone through… We just lost people we love, people who have been in our lives for a long time. Everything’s upside-down. I get it. But we’ve been down before. I mean, rock bottom. And we find a way. We fix it because that’s what we do.

This is the "Pull yourself up by your bootstraps" speech in 13.02—like a day after they burned Cas's body. Sam's wording here is cruel too—saying Dean is "thinking" Cas is gone as if he didn't die right in front of him? He refuses to acknowledge Cas's death as something Dean was actively and rightfully mourning. This becomes a major point of contention between the brothers at the end of 13.03.

DEAN: Look, I know you think that you can use [Jack] as some sort of an interdimensional can-opener and that’s fine, but don’t act like you care about him! Because you only care about what he can do for you! So if you want to pretend, that’s fine! But me? I can hardly look at the kid! Because when I do all I see is everybody we’ve lost! SAM: Mom chose to take that shot at Lucifer. That is not on Jack!

Sam will only name Mary—the one person whose death they can’t 100% confirm (the same thing happens in front of Mia in 13.04). The absence of Cas’s name here is pointed. So Dean says:

DEAN: And what about Cas?

And how does Sam respond?

SAM: What about Cas?

Uh... wow. That's what really sets Dean off to full on shouting:

DEAN: [Jack] manipulated him, he made him promises, said, ‘paradise on earth’ and Cas bought it and you know what that got him? It got him dead! Now you might be able to forget about that, but I can’t!

Sam's denial of what Dean literally SAW (Cas died) and how that hurts—his insistence that Dean also halt grieving to hope for the impossible—it's a major sticking point and very revealing of Sam's own coping mechanisms. Sam's chief response to grief is to disassociate himself from it. We see a textbook case in season 8 (see: 8.08), but in most of the series, what this actually looks like for Sam is to keep moving and hunting (ex: 1.02, 2.02, 2.10, 2.11, 2.18 3.11, 4.09, 9.01) which is also why he insists on bringing Dean and Jack on the hunt in 13.04. Sam tries not to think about what they've lost and focuses on what he CAN do. He focuses on hoping Mary can be saved because she's the one person he didn't SEE die.

The thing about Dean’s grief over Mary is this: he convinces himself Lucifer had to have killed her. She's the one person whose death Dean can't be certain of, but he absolutely cannot bear the thought of hoping she’s alive and it turning out he’s wrong. He knows he wouldn’t psychologically survive hoping in that and his beliefs being crushed. It would be like losing his mom all over again (a THIRD time). So he sticks to what is most likely: Lucifer killed her. He can't contend with the hope Sam is clinging to desperately, and that's what makes them such poor companions in grief. Sam feels off balance when Dean won't keep moving and hoping like him—when Dean can't keep up the pace Sam wants to run at in his own grief—and in doing so, Sam keeps pushing Dean to contend with hopes that open Dean up to a WORLD of pain Sam can psychologically convince himself not to feel. Grieving together just really just doesn't work for them because they're never on the same page and deal in such different ways—and this has been hurting them from as early as 2.02!!!

Now to bring Jack into this more fully: Jack represents Sam and Dean's different perspectives on grief and on Mary. Just like Dean despairs over Mary's demise, Dean despairs over the possibility of Jack being good. He can't bear the idea of hoping in that and being wrong. The psychologically safest option for him is to assume the worst and not hope or believe in anything turning out okay.

Sam, on the other hand, pretty much immediately sees a way to use Jack to get Mary back. This is clear when he and Jack get locked up together in the jail cell in 13.01. After establishing that Jack isn't hearing things and (probably) isn't going to murder him imminently, Sam immediately starts down a line of questioning establishing how well Jack understands his powers, and then asks him outright:

SAM: Jack, look, um... before you were born, you -- you opened up a door to another world. Do you remember that? JACK: Yes. SAM: Okay, um, could you do that again?

Shortly after, when Sam arrives, he tells Dean (who is convinced after everything that happened in 12.23 that 12.19 that Jack is evil or will turn evil):

We need him.

Sam repeats this sentiment multiple times with clear meaning, and later in 13.04, he admits to Jack that he wants to use him to open the portal. This doesn't mean he doesn't also grow to see himself in Jack quickly and genuinely believe in his capacity for good, but he isn't fully honest with Jack about his motives until 13.04 where he finally comes clean, and this poisons the well with Jack a little.

@shallowseeker has pointed out before that in 13.03, while trying to figure out how to get Jack's powers to work (and spying on Jack through cameras from another room) Sam is seen reading "The Drama Of The Gifted Child". I wish I could find the post because Shal probably brought it up too, but when I was rewatching this episode, I noticed the chapter Sam had just settled into read before being interrupted was titled,

"Depression and Grandiosity: Two Related Forms of Denial"

Given the accusations flying from Sam toward Dean then from Dean toward Sam about denial in the following episode (13.04), this feels amusingly pointed. Dean is depressed (and about to attempt suicide in 13.05), Sam is depressed and has "grandiose" ideas of using Jack to pop open a portal to another reality while hiding behind the guise of being the most rational person in the room when he... isn't necessarily? And it's easy to argue "Well, Sam turns out to be right even if he didn't ultimately have much of a reason to think he was" but the core problem here is how his beliefs effect how he treats other people's grief. He isn't honest with Jack about his motives (while Dean is somewhat brutally honest) and pushes and watches even while claiming he's giving Jack space (13.03), he refuses to give Dean space to grieve even the family member they know is dead, he inserts a therapist into the situation and criticizes Dean's grief when Dean won't play his game, and in 13.05, after Dean says that he can't believe in anything right now, Sam's clumsy attempts at help involve plying Dean with alcohol he says he doesn't even want and trying to send him off to strip clubs—believing that Dean performing being okay will somehow address his mental state because Sam's idea of coping himself is simply "going through the motions".

As for Jack, I don't think he's scared of Dean. I think he's scared of what Dean believes. He's scared that Dean is right. From 13.01-13.06, Jack is contending with the question of whether he's destined for evil or good, and in his depressed state, Dean believes Jack is destined for evil because hoping in anything is completely beyond him at that moment. Sam tells Jack that he can be good, but he hides ulterior motives as to why he's being nice, and when those ulterior motives are revealed, it leaves Jack thinking Sam is the kind of person who will lie to Jack and tell him he's good just to get what he wants. Meanwhile, Jack knows Dean is being completely honest with him about what he believes. 13.03 and 13.04 clearly demonstrate that Jack understands the difference between beliefs and facts: Dean could be right or he could be wrong. What Jack holds onto like an anchor is that he can trust Dean to tell him the truth about what he believes—even if it hurts.

It's also just so obvious that Jack immediately wants Dean—specifically—to like him (see: Jack mimicking Dean's mannerisms while eating in 13.02, and his clumsy attempts to earn his favor in 13.04). Sam also picks up on this, and encourages Jack to seek Dean's approval in 13.04 to try and change Dean's beliefs. Sam (and to some extent Jack) are thinking in 13.04, that if Jack can prove to Dean that he can be good, and if Dean tells him he did a good job (which Dean does in the end), Jack can believe that. Sam sees that Jack wants Dean's approval and the impression that Dean's beliefs have had on Jack and thinks by pushing them together as soon as possible (when neither of them want to go on the hunt) and treating them as a family and forcing Dean to accept Jack when Dean just isn't ready (including by paralleling Jack with himself in a way that becomes an accusation), he can "fix" Jack so he isn't scared of his powers anymore (13.03) and then he can teach Jack to use his powers and Jack can open a portal to save their mom.

Jack's attempts to earn Dean's favor in 13.04 are clumsy. His first attempt is directly ignoring Dean telling him to wait in the car and sneaking into the crime scene, potentially contaminating it. At Mia's office, Jack's outburst about losing a mother is what allows Sam to set up the whole family therapy trap to begin with, and because Dean knows Sam is going to use that to hurt him, he warns Jack not to make outbursts like that. Dean is not being nice. Point blank. And I do think his tone is a little different than with Cas which in the past felt more like exasperation. I also don’t think it makes him the devil. I think that's understandable when putting in even a tiny amount of effort and it's kind of laughable to me how few people seem to even try because they're so caught up in Sam's happy family narrative and the idea that someone wanting Dean's approval presents an obligation that Dean give it no matter how emotionally impossible—and in a situation where asking him to lie would actually destroy that much more of Jack's trust.

#13.01 #13.02 #13.03 #13.04 #13.05 #dean and mary #mary #dean and jack #jack #and cas is my best friend #the flannel business #bad therapist sam #season 13 #mail #i just stopped

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raayllum · 2 days

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Once again I am so completely in my Janaya feelings because they're just so well done as a ship and so refreshing as a canon queer ship in particular??

Like they're rival generals who are uniquely matched in skill! We see how good of a fighter Amaya is in S1 (she's the top General of the Standing Battalion for crying out loud) so having someone who has her even somewhat on the run in S2 immediately catches our notice, as well as just how striking Janai is, even before we know she's the Golden Knight of Lux Aurea and sister to the queen.

Then we get some fun games of cat and mouse with the two circling and outsmarting each other; Janai luring Amaya's troops into an ambush and then having Amaya outsmart her way through anyway, and Janai ruining Amaya's plan to sever the Breach as a connective point between their lands (at least temporarily). It's small, but it shows that they're not just physically matched in battle, but intellectually too, and it makes their connection / rivalry feel more personal.

But of course this starts to shift when Amaya is stranded on Janai's side of the Breach, and spares her life because there's been enough unnecessary violence, having to literally Drop her shield to do so (mm, the symbolism).

We then get a new stage of their dynamic, as Amaya is very good bad at being interrogated ("She may have told you a rather unusual way in which your body might accommodate your sword") even if Kazi tries to minimize the ruder signs along the way as an interpreter. And even when Amaya could just look at Kazi for translation, her gaze continually strays to Janai. Then, Janai vouches for Amaya to her sister and Amaya has to trust Janai in the Light trial, which is also why she asks Janai to trust her when Viren shows up and starts causing trouble.

What follows is a fire forged friendship (literally) where Janai experiences Amaya's greatest grief -- the loss of a sister -- and they support each other through the battle to come, especially now that they have a common enemy. There's even blushing, battle gazing smiles, being protective, and paralleled hand holds.

Then, when we pick up after the two year timeskip, it's quickly apparent they're in a relationship — "But there are some things you shouldn't keep secret, especially from me" — and hints at exactly what kind of traditional ceremony this is, as Janai proposes and the two embrace and kiss.

And the show always, consistently, constantly, discusses their love for each other frankly and in terms no one can mistake.

"I know [she's a fearsome fighter], that is what I love about her," "The only message is that I've chosen this amazing woman to be my wife," "I love you and I'm ready to marry you," "I only really know one thing: Amaya, I want a life with you, I want to marry you," "Our queen and her bride to be just left on a romantic picnic in broad daylight!" "I just need a distraction—that's right, wedding planning." "Is someone getting married?" "Now I know how wrong I was about elves: I'm in love with one [...] Meeting Janai, falling in love" etc etc. Even down to the little details like Amaya's sign name for Janai being a J over her heart.

I also really appreciate that they're able to be so physically affectionate, particularly Amaya towards Janai in her tenderness as well.

At the same time, they don't always entirely see eye to eye. Amaya is adjusting to a culture that's not her own; Janai is still finding her footing and more importantly her confidence in being queen, even without internal usurpation coups going on and an evil blood drinking lesbian Moonshadow elf on the loose.

They trade and gift each other's another swords so they can be by one another's side in spirit when they do have to part. They're happily planning their wedding and giving each other hope throughout the encroaching madness of their lives. They get cute little callbacks to things like "She thinks I'm cute but won't admit it yet," exchange loving looks when their tribulations are done, and love each other with their whole hearts, allowing them to provide allegorical commentary on some of the societal pushback LBGTQ+ couples receive while also never having it dominate their shared plotline(s) or arcs with one another.

I just love them a lot, and these are some of the reasons why! I can't wait for more of their relationship development in S6 and S7!

#janaya #lesbian #happy pride 🌈#pride #tdp #the dragon prince #long post #appreciation #wlw #i love them So Much

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justalildumpling · 7 hours

Text

the aftermath (of champagne & tequila)

synopsis: so maybe those few glasses of champagne and tequila wasn’t your smartest choice of beverages at your high school reunion. but how were you supposed to know that running into your childhood crushes absolutely wasted would have you dealing with the aftermath of making out with not one, but both within the same hour?

pairing: haechan x fem! reader & mark x fem! reader genre: love triangle, childhood crushes au, college au, fluff, humor word count: 7.4k warnings: swearing, making out, mentions of alcohol, vaping, weed, jokes about death and just a 'hol lot of y/n being a dumb drunk

note: there’s really no plot to this, just pure thirst and chaos but then again, isn’t that all my fics ever🙃 (and god forbid any of my irls see this bc they'll know exactly who everyone is based off of💀)

[ playlist: all my friends - snakehips / feels - calvin harris / pretty please - dua lip / one kiss - dua lipa / leave the door open - bruno mars / nasty - ariana grande / streets - doja cat ]

IN YOUR DEFENCE, you weren’t planning on getting this drunk.

In fact, you remembered reassuring your group of friends about this the day before, emphasising your astounding hatred towards the very limited selection of the free alcoholic beverages available at the bar (namely, beer and wine).

Further backing up your case, you had initially turned up to your high school reunion an hour late with the lazy excuse of your last-minute decisions towards your outfit that day – which, considering your turbulent meltdowns about having no clothes at two in the morning, was a complete fucking lie – only covering up your actual reasonings of not wanting to face your high school year group.

You didn’t exactly have any particular reasons to avoid anyone – a matter of fact, you liked to think you got along with everyone back in the day, often bouncing around from friend group to friend group with shiny eyes, inviting smiles and friendly banter – but there was something about reuniting your cohort again after a year which felt awkward.

There was no doubt that everyone would have changed in some way shape or form.

Heck, you were a completely different person from when they last saw you in the body of that wide-eyed girl in the crisp white blouse with the conservative knee-length pleated skirt. Plus, judging by the daily scroll of your Instagram feed, many of your peers seemed to don an altered version of their high school selves as well – meaning you had to get to know everyone all over again.

You vaguely remember turning up at the congested bar next to your high school building. The entrance was decorated with popped bottles of champagne with only a few clean empty glasses left on the display tray. The rest are in the hands of the various levels of tipsy college kids packed together like a can of sardines in front of the bar, eagerly milking out the bar tab set by the committee. Despite your school renting out the entirety of the second floor, it felt a little too tight, almost claustrophobic inside as you discreetly tried to scan the drunken crowd for your usual group of friends. However, your search didn’t last long, resulting in you eventually giving up after a few seconds, opting to ease the mild squeamishness with some liquid courage.

The cheap champagne burned the back of your throat as you settled on painfully chugging the glass in mere seconds, sticking out your tongue in disgust. Regardless of your initial reaction to the first taste, you began lining up for another glass, maybe in hopes of finding your intoxicated friends swimming in the chaos.

“Oh my god, Y/N! Is that you?”

Your ears perked at the familial voice amid of the loud chatter, head whipping towards the warm beam of Huang Renjun – a longtime locker mate/bandmate during school. Crushing you into a tight hug, you momentarily thanked the higher power of the universe for sending at least an old buddy as your first very sober interaction.

Though you and Renjun had never exclusively shared the same social circle, your friendship went way back. It started from being in the school’s so-called “rock” band together to trauma bonding over some unfortunate extension English classes in middle school to being neighbouring lockers for the entirety of high school. You recalled Renjun being a wholesome-looking guy, uniform always neatly tucked in, hair short and well kept, so when you spotted his long bleached hair and a silver ring hanging off the left corner of his lip as you pulled away from his grasp, surprise was an understatement of your reaction.

“You pierced your lip!” you exclaimed, turning your face to various angles around him to have a closer look.

A hearty laugh escaped his lips, throwing his head back as he playfully modelled his new accessory with a childish smile, “I did! Though I would be lying if I said I got this voluntarily.”

You cocked your head at him as the two of you received your preferred beverage from the bar counter, gesturing for him to elaborate. Renjun paused, sipping on the overflowing bubbles of his beer before adding, “I lost a bet with Donghyuck.”

Lee Donghyuck, a name you would say you were well acquainted with. He was a popular figure with the female community of your school for his visuals and many other talents, an eye-catching part of Renjun’s circle and your childhood friend. Well, sort of.

The two of you met in second grade, the joyful period of a child’s life where everyone was automatically considered friends if you shared a class or your mothers exchanged more than two sentences and invited you to their birthday parties. Also meant, playing with the designated child of your mother’s chosen friend of the day until their hour-long conversation was over.

Considering the sheer amount of afternoons spent with Donghyuck throughout your elementary school days running around with his family puppy on the school grounds, you would think that would automatically deem the approval of the “childhood friend” title. But the two of you didn’t really talk outside of your forced interaction nor did you share the same lunchtime activities much to your pathetic heart’s dismay.

It would be a lie if you said you weren’t charmed by the warm scruffiness of the little boy, oftentimes guilty of shamelessly boring holes into the back of his head during class and daydreaming about your futures together instead of listening to your homeroom teacher. You had a feeling your mum knew of your little infatuation towards the boy, often sending you a knowing gaze after your weekly runarounds with him and after the mention of his name in conversation prompting you to believe that her coincidental run-ins with Donghyuck’s mother weren’t so accidental afterall.

Though growing out of your shorts and summer tunic dresses and into your somewhat maturer age of a teenager; the validation of the excuse of your mother’s budding friendship to catch him after school expired alongside the dissipating giddiness you had once held for him. Something you saw coming for a while as you found yourself seeing less of him around which came as no surprise as neither of you shared the same class nor the same friends as you naturally started gravitating to different parts of your enlarging year group.

Finishing off the remainder of your flat champagne, you raised your eyebrows at the boy, “Donghyuck? Haven’t heard that name in a while, how is he?”

Renjun hummed, fingers drumming on the sides of his beer glass, “Why don’t you ask him? He’s here today,” he began standing on the tips of his battered converses, peering around the bar for the boy in question.

You shook your head with a chuckle, “Don’t worry about it. It’s going to be impossible to find him-”

On queue, Renjun hollered Donghyuck’s name at the back corner of the room, waving at a shadowed figure exaggeratedly. You weren’t even sure how he was able to spot him within the chaos so quickly when you were still left in search of your friends. But that wasn’t your biggest problem anymore as you recognised Donghyuck emerging from within the darkness, jokingly shoving past the large group of huddled and what you assumed to be intoxicated boys.

He didn’t look too different from the last time you met, maybe a few centimetres taller, skin sun-kissed from the recent summer weather but holy shit, was he still as hot as ever. If not more.

“Damn Y/N, is that you?”

You were too sober for this. Sure, you had started to feel the buzz peppering various parts of your face; but your emotions, the logical voice in your brain remained intact, with it blaring “DON’T FUCK UP!” in bold capital letters the closer he got.

Shoving your jitters further down your lame excuse of a brain, a playful smile was forced upon your lips, “The one and only.”

Donghyuck grinned, lightly pulling you into a welcoming embrace, catching you off guard, “It’s good to see you again.”

You could tell the alcohol had already hit his systems judging by the uncharacteristically physical greeting and eyes lazily half-lidded as he pulled away from your grasp. “Looks like someone’s had a bit to drink tonight?” you teased, eyeing the lingering closeness between the two of you.

Donghyuck chuckled, softly shaking his head, “I haven’t had too much, maybe a couple of glasses of champagne at school and a few beers here. What about you?”

“Only two glasses of whatever they’re serving at the bar,” you shuddered at the thought, placing your empty glasses down on the side of the countertop.

“So what I’m hearing is that you haven’t had enough yet,” Donghyuck sent a cheeky wink your way, completely forgetting about poor Renjun’s presence in the conversation as he lightly tugged at your sleeves back in front of the bar, ordering your preferred drinks with the bartender. Clinking your topped-up glasses with the boy, you wondered if making conversations with the boy was this easy before. It wasn’t like he was antisocial or judgemental during your high school years, maybe a little arrogant at times which initially caused your group of friends to have a slight dislike towards the boy.

“Y/N no,” you remembered your best friend Ningning immediately shutting down your thoughts followed by the excessive nods of your friends.

The five of you sat on the floor in front of your lockers, the smell of the freshly made fries Minjeong had bought from the deli next door wafting down the corridor as you had your heated discussion for the day. How you ended up on the topic of your resurfacing feelings for Lee Donghyuck was a whole other question of its own. (Ah, you remembered. Minjeong tripped down the stairs as you and Donghyuck exchanged smiles and pleasantries, whilst she panicked about her one fry which flew out of the cardboard box, all you could think about was him)

Ningning scrunched her eyes, lips formed into a sour expression, “He’s just so…”

“Egotistical?” Shuhua offered.

“Short?” Yunjin added, throwing a handful of fries in her mouth.

“Both,” Ningning affirmed. She patted your lap, a thin smile drawn on her face, “You’re too good for him Y/N.”

It was safe to say that the droplet of leaking feelings had shrivelled back up into your heart that day, both due to your friend’s confronting opinions towards the boy and the unapproachable aura he exuded. (Ok, maybe you admired his golden face from across the room from time to time but who could blame you? It wasn’t your fault his stupidly good looks started appearing at every extracurricular activity you signed up for that term)

A full glass’ worth of conversation passed at this point, and the both of you head deep into your storytelling of your crazy nights out. Bursts of booming laughter thundered as he described canon bombing into his university’s questionable lake and audible gasps sounded as you described your New Year's celebrations earlier that year. Maybe you were wrong about your skepticisms towards the boy during your schooling years, blaming your tendency to catastrophize any minor inconvenience to blow his inherent “unattainableness” out of proportion.

Pulling your phone out of your handbag to check the time, you were greeted with several missed calls and spammed messages from your friends, slapping you back to your original goal in mind.

“Everything alright?” Donghyuck’s face appeared beside your phone screen, eyes concentrated on your sudden change of expression.

“Uh-” you began typing your response to your group chat, reassuring them of your whereabouts in the heavily packed venue, ”-yeah. Yeah, sorry,” you clicked your phone shut, stuffing it back into your purse before facing him again, “Just reassuring a panicked group chat.”

He laughed, dipping his head in understanding, “I’m guessing I’ll have to let you go?”

You shrugged, offering him a small pout, “Unfortunately but hey, take a shot with me later?”

A soft smile littered Donghyuck’s face, hands squeezing the tops of your shoulders.

“Bet, I’ll come find you.”

NOTE TO SELF: Don’t go into the female restrooms during a big event in a relatively logical state of mind.

The girls' restrooms were a lively place for the residents of your school, always scented with the popular fumes of grape ice and strawberry watermelon vape, the tile floors littered with abandoned pairs of laddered stockings in the winter and forgotten multicoloured hydro-flasks perched on the benches. With quite the vaping addiction of your school, it was always a fun game of guess who when you took the trip to the restrooms during class, which clique was occupying the stalls together, which flavour they were attempting that day or what piece of drama you were going to be handed.

You realised that not much had changed when you found your friends huddling with quite the assortment of other girls in your year group in the bar restroom. The air was concocted with the nostalgic smell of blue raspberry vape and Maison Margiela, accompanied by loud loving gossip in the unoccupied stalls and the occasional drunken mirror selfies in front of the basin.

“Oh my gosh Y/N! You’re alive!” Ningning screeched, glomping you into a tight hug, “I was about to get up on the tables to find you out there.”

“Sorry, I missed your calls,” you wheezed as Minjeong came over to peel the girl off of your body, “I didn’t realise my phone was on silent.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” Shuhua slurred attaching herself to Minjeong’s side, “You must’ve been bouncing around like you usually do, judging by how long it took you to find us.”

“Yeah,” – if bouncing around meant from one drink to another with the same person – “You could say that.”

“Yunjin said hi by the way,” Minjeong interrupted, pulling up a photo of your absent friend striking a cute pose in front of a sushi train in Hawaii, “She said to drink on her behalf, which I don’t think is the best idea.”

“That girl’s probably drunk right now,” Ningning snickered, turning to face the large mirror to reapply her lip gloss, “But I’ll take any excuse to drink more.”

Minjeong raised an eyebrow at the girl, “Didn’t you say that you were saving your liver for next weekend?”

Ningning merely shrugged, waving her off before grabbing ahold of your hand with an animated wiggle, squabbling about something along the lines of you looking too sober. You ran into many old faces on the short journey to the bar front, hearty laughter and juicy gossip unconsciously spilled and overheard from the neighbouring conversations (Though whether it was true or not, you weren’t sure, but considering the topics of accidental pregnancies and very messy breakups – maybe it would be best to wish for the latter)

You were on your fourth glass of champagne at this point, something you couldn’t understand as every sip you took attempted to change your mind; it really just tasted the same – like fucking ass. The state of yourself on the other hand arguably has made some progress, to your best friend’s delight. You had joined in on Ningning’s nonsensical babbling a half glass ago, nodding along to whatever came out of her mouth with a small giggle tickling up your throat. She leaned into your ear, slurring some muddled sentence that was drowned out by the screaming lyrics of ABBA. A nod came as a reflex for you, a dazed smile tugging at your lips.

She gave you a little squeeze on your shoulders, shuffling past a sea of people and to the other end of the room. The world seemed to move faster than what your brain could handle at that given moment, only registering the disappearance of your friend as well as the foreign group of kids gathered around you a few minutes later.

There you were, at square one once again, like a clueless fish stuck between the school of other wandering creatures. Except, replace the ocean with flat champagne and cheap house beer.

With an exasperated sigh, you took a step back from the chattering circle, but what you thought was an empty space was in fact a person. A person with a full glass of beer – well, half full after you knocked into it.

“Shit- Fuck- I’m so sorry, is your drink o…kay?” Your words trailed off as you came face to face with your ex-best friend Mark Lee.

Ah yes. Mark Lee and Y/N L/N, quite the known duo during your middle school days. Inseparable, protective and unanimously voted as most probably secretly dating or housing feelings for each other – which to be fair, wasn’t exactly false.

Your rather complicated feelings for the boy began in fifth grade when the boy slipped you a silly doodle of a duck in a top hat during math class. The two of you were seated a table apart from each other with your respective seatmates so you weren’t too sure of why he specifically chose you to gift his work of art but regardless, you giggled, pencilling in the words “Taffy the Duck” on the top of the page to pass back to him. Your little note passings continued throughout the rest of elementary school, leading to middle school where in your despair realised that you shared zero classes with the boy. Despite this, your friendship stood as strong as ever, hanging out during lunchtimes and visiting the local 7/11 after school until well – it wasn’t.

There was no pivotal moment when you stopped being as close as you were; in fact, it was a question that remained frustratingly unanswered throughout the years. It wasn’t like the two of you ever argued or had a major fallout – which could’ve given you a proper reason to either make up or talk to him again – but rather be described as a painstakingly slow drift, enough to the point where it was unnoticeable. Maybe it started with the branching of different friend groups then led to your attention on your respective crushes at the time – which now that you recollected on your past, think that your hidden feelings for each other at the time were the only thing holding you together.

Sure, you had attempted to revive your friendship at times, starting with the ever-so-awkward first hellos in the stairwell to a couple of sentences exchanged before classes started in your final year, but all efforts seem to have unravelled as you graduated from school and went on your separate ways, until today.

“Oh hey, Y/N?”

You handed him a napkin from the bar, “Mark.”

Shaking the excess residue off of his hand, he mumbled a quiet thanks as he took the napkin from you. You wanted to die, really. As a matter of fact, you were convinced that it would be a much more pleasant experience than silently standing like some dumb wooden doll in front of your ex-best friend, as he cleaned up after your mess.

“So,” he cleared his throat, “It’s been a while huh?”

You gulped down the last sip of your drink, feeling the burn of the champagne trickling down your oesophagus, “Yeah, I mean the last time we talked was, one and half years ago?” – Technically, it was his birthday a little less than a year ago when the two of you last exchanged messages. It entailed your short greeting of “happy b’day mark!” and the equally blunt response of “haha thanks y/n”. However according to the Cambridge dictionary, a conversation is defined as a discussion about a particular subject and well, nothing was discussed.

“Well, how have you been? Your brother doing well?” Mark passed his fingers through his dark locks, turning his full attention to you.

You were surprised he remembered your brother, with him starting school not long before you guys stopped being friends, “He’s doing well, grown up a lot since you last saw him,” you snorted, remembering his little presence trailing behind the two of you after school, begging for you to buy him Mcdonald's fries, “How about you? You attend NCIT right?”

“Yep, studying Business,” he rolled his eyes, “Quite the regretful choice. How about you?”

“Communications at Yonsei,” you responded, “Though, I did originally transfer from Business, due to as you said. Quite the experience.”

Mark chuckled knowingly, raising his glass to take a sip of his remaining drink, “It suits you. Communications that is.”

“What? Because I’m loud?” you joked.

He shook his head, “You always had great ideas, people always looked to you for advice.”

A warm smile made its way onto your face. It was a reassuring phrase to hear, short but impactful nonetheless. Especially as you struggled to figure out your path after school, switching from one faculty to another in hopes of finding the one that didn’t make you want to throw yourself off a cliff side. Communications was a spontaneous jump but it was the only choice that made you confident in your abilities so hearing this sort of external validation felt nice, especially from him.

Mark returned the gesture, eyes crinkling into the tender crescent shape. Despite the maturing of his facial structure, he still housed the same childlike smile. The one which stretched to the outskirts of his cheeks, softening his overall cold exterior. The one that made you fall for him in the first place.

“How come I didn’t catch you at school earlier?”

You blinked, snapping out of your thoughts, “O-Oh, I turned up pretty late so I missed out on the terrace drinks.”

“That makes more sense,” Mark hummed in affirmation, eyeing you up and down, “I feel like I definitely would’ve noticed you if you were there.”

What.

“Tequila shot?” he offered.

You bat an eye, “Uh, sure.”

YOU SEE, you were an affectionate drunk – most often seen clinging onto your friends’ bodies for dear life or littering kisses on their cheeks towards the peak of your night outs. You concluded your drastic personality change was due to the massive confidence boost and the silencing of the practical parts of your brain, meaning that your already concerning amount of extrovertedness maxed the scale.

Before that evening, this quirky little trait of yours never caused you harm, only resulting in the multitude of ‘friends’ being made in the club’s restroom line or several new followers on Instagram the morning after – half of which you barely remember the existence of.

It was barely eleven when Donghyuck snatched you away from your friends, keeping what you thought to be an empty promise of taking a shot with you. Although you were the one originally suggesting your actions, you won’t lie that you held low expectations for him to follow through – most definitely considering his current state of mind.

Clinking your shot glasses together, you downed the liquor in mere seconds, followed by the soothing taste of the lime, melting away the burn that chased up your throat. An electrified laugh sounded from your left as the familial chords of Bruno Mars blasted through the speakers. Donghyuck held no hesitation to grab your hands, dragging you to the front of the speakers as he playfully serenaded you throughout the way.

You could only shyly giggle as he twirled you around the circling crowd, blatantly avoiding his grand gestures for you to sing along. But your resistance didn’t last long as the chorus hit, finding yourself swaying to the beat of the music, accepting the enclosing distance between your bodies. You peered up to meet his eyes, still filled with the childlike wonder and life from the early days of your friendship to the sharp slope of his nose to his scattered moles down to his supple lips.

“You know Hyuck, you’re really hot.”

A satisfied grin laced Donghyuck’s lips, “Am I now?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You weren’t exactly sure what initially prompted you to blurt your relatively forward words to the unsuspecting boy. Maybe it was the lingering fresh taste of the lime on your tongue. Maybe it was the way he swiped his tongue against his bottom lip to soak up any last droplets of the liquor or simply because you just wanted to. Either way, what you didn’t expect was for a smirk to tug against Donghyuck’s lips, stepping closer to your body, eyes flickering to your lips as a finger grazed the underside of your chin. He momentarily wavered a couple centimetres away from your lips, warm breath fanning against your face before his lips met yours.

The once horridly ear-deafening music of the room with the bubbling chatters of your cohort seemed to fade into the background as the ghost of Donghyuck’s hands skimmed the bare parts of your waist. His tousled curls tickled the sides of your cheeks as he nipped at your jawline, pinning your body firmer against the wall.

“God forbid if our mothers saw us right now,” you let out a slight gasp as he kissed the sensitive part of your neck.

“Well, good thing our mothers aren’t here to see us, right?” a low chuckle rumbled from his throat before reconnecting your lips again, his tongue fighting for its place in your mouth. Your fingers gripped at the back of his head, tugging at the strands to elicit a staggered moan from the boy, filling your chest with a weird sense of pride and definitely not helping your already inflated ego.

You could conclude you had certainly passed your tipsy stage, with the last shot of tequila seeping into your system and pushing your brain’s irrationality almost a bit too far. You remembered once hearing your tenth-grade biology teacher talk about the effects of alcohol on the human body and how it altered your brain’s chemical composition. Specifically, how it lowered an individual’s inhibitions and social rationalisation.

And considering your ongoing messy but undeniably hot lip-locking with Lee Donghyuck, you began regretting zoning off in the latter part of that science lesson (not really. You did manage to beat your personal record in 2048) where she had subsequently explained how to piece together the drunken jumble in your brain as the following few words which tumbled out of your mouth, you would inevitably regret.

“Wait, I need to pee.”

YOU HAD TO ADMIT. It was quite scary the amount of things you managed to figure out about yourself whilst severely intoxicated.

One, you really couldn’t hold your bladder. Evident by the frequent trips to the restroom every thirty minutes or the number of times you had bumped into the same group of girls gathered outside the basins, offering you a hit of their neon-coloured vape and a piece of their drunken secrets.

Two, realising the sheer amount of time and money wasted spent trying to figure yourself out during your high school years as the one night of limitless alcoholic beverages seemed to be a confronting personality test in itself.

Three, the emotions you spent years persuading to simmer down in your heart were capable of rapidly firing out in mere seconds alongside the memory bank of shitty pick-up lines and your apparent drunken rizz that went through the roof.

Four, maybe your best friend’s words of you supposedly being in your “hoe phase” were really true because at that moment, you really, really wanted to kiss someone – more specifically, Mark Lee.

It wasn't exactly the best course of action, considering your heated make-out session with Donghyuck not too long before – which you left halfway through, might you add. But wise decisions weren’t things you were great at making. Especially a few too many glasses of champagne and spirits deep.

According to your very skewed sense of time, it was around midnight when you stumbled into Mark once again, this time hidden within the shadows behind a pillar in the corner with another drink in his hand. Not many people lingered around this part of the room. You guessed it was due to the immobile bodies sprawled across the dingy carpet a few metres in front and a frustrating lack of both music and alcohol. With a light trip in your step, you made your way towards the boy.

“Oh my gosh Mark! What are you doing here?”

A concerned grimace appeared upon Mark’s lips, prompting him to place his drink on the carpeted floor to steady your rocking body. The room had begun spinning at this point in time, with Mark’s face distorting ever so slightly to your hilarity.

A giggle bubbled up your throat, followed by your hands which gravitated towards the poor boy’s face, poking various parts of his features in such fascination. Mark could only sigh, registering his sheer lack of control in the situation, as he sat you on the plastic chair.

A wave of peace washed over your bodies for a few minutes, with Mark quietly sipping on the remainder of his drink whilst you traced your fingers across his jawline. Though much to his despair, the calm before the storm barely lasted three minutes as your loud ass mouth began itching to dominate your brain.

“Mark, has anyone ever told you how fucking hilarious you are?”

Mark deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest, “I haven’t said anything.”

“SEE?!” You bounced out of your seat, “A fucking knee slapper that one!”

Another sigh escaped his lips, getting ahold of your shoulders again to place you back down, “Y/N, how did you manage to even get like this?”

“You know Donghae? Haechang? Whatever his name is-”

“Donghyuck.” Mark corrected, eyebrows furrowing at the mention of his name, “What did that overgrown cabbage patch kid do to you?”

“Relax, he just bought me a shot…” You drew out your words before pouting, “Or two, and maybe a couple drinks before that.”

Mark shook his head, patting your head, “I’m gonna get you some water.”

“Nooo! Don’t go, you’re so sexy!” You latched yourself onto his waist, fingers twisting around the belt loops of his jeans.

You could feel him visibly freeze on the spot, occasionally twitching nervously the closer your hands lingered to his crotch. You staggered up from your seat again, hands grazing his torso to wrap around his neck. Despite only a part of his face being illuminated by the light behind the pillar, it was enough to make out his parted lips and widened eyes.

Just like Hyuck, you realised how much Mark had grown into his mature face over the years. His cheekbones were more prominent, and his hair styled with the hard gel he refused to use in middle school. You reached to pass a stray strand across his forehead, though your eyes never left his and your lips inching closer towards his.

“You’re drunk, Y/N.”

You shrugged, eyes flickering down to his lips, “I wasn’t drunk when I wanted to kiss you.”

“And when was that?”

“Middle school, high school,” You paused, pondering for a second, “After graduation.”

A moment of shock flashed across the boy’s face, lips partly ajar and what seemed like a rollercoaster of emotions tumbling within his eyes. You had always questioned what his response would’ve been to a potential confession back in the day; maybe he would’ve reciprocated your drawn-out feelings and lived as a happy couple to this day, or if you wanted to be pessimistic, suffered the horrors of a toxic middle school relationship and be forever traumatised by love for the rest of your life; or maybe he would’ve rejected your feelings and just remained as an awkward pair of “besties”.

There was a little voice shrieking from the depths of your brain to shut the fuck up, most probably belonging to your sober self trying to save your face. However, it seemed as though the mystery to your decades-long question would be answered that night as Mark chuckled, clearing his throat.

"Middle school me would've gone crazy hearing this."

You knew you were definitely wasted at that moment, his words of reciprocation to your elementary school feelings flying over your head and rather hyperfocused on the warmth of his embrace and the subtle gulp of nervousness he took.

"What about present-day Mark?” You murmured, your breath hitting his lips, “Is this making him crazy too?"

"Absolutely insane."

You were reminded of your friends’ comments on your drunken rizz, with apparently any form of embarrassment and dignity thrown into the gutter to crash and burn. With the amount of unknown dms you had woken up to the morning after drinking, you’d think you would’ve learnt your lesson by now – but your drunken alter ego was a stubborn bitch.

A bitch who definitely needed some kind of therapy.

As Mark smashed his lips onto yours, it was then you were hit by your mother’s words about drinking responsibly. Obviously, to avoid alcohol poisoning, potentially blacking out and passing out on the side of the road, but most importantly, to avoid involving yourself in sticky situations in which your sober self had to deal with the aftermath.

But how were you supposed to anticipate that the aftermath of a fuckload of champagne and tequila shots was going to have you hooking up with your childhood crushes at your school reunion?

Oh, and blackout whilst you were at it.

YOU WEREN’T GOING TO LIE, waking up in the comfort of your sheets came as a surprise for your tired self.

You were quite proud of yourself for making it back in one piece, or even back at home at all and not passing out on the side of the road somewhere, considering the rather large gap in your memory and the fact that you were most definitely still drunk when you woke up.

There was a slight wobble in your step as you made your way over to the kitchen, head pounding and face still numb as you took the first miraculous sip of water. Your phone screen lit up with a bomb of message notifications and Instagram tags from last night, in which you nervously opened your active group chat.

[ yunjin ] did i miss anything?

[ shuhua ] i shit talked about ppl with aeri and somi whilst high

[ ningning ] yk i don’t think i recall parts of last night

[ you ] i mean,, understandable. u were pretty fucked

[ minjeong ] y/n wrestling tongues with donghyuck was the most unexpected for me

[ shuhua ] you what😭

[ you ] we are not mentioning that…

[ ningning ] wait i swear it was mark, was it not?

[ yunjin ] lol plot twist: it was both

[ you ] …

[ minjeong ] YOU MADE OUT WITH BOTH OF THEM!??!?!?!

You chose to shut off your phone at that moment, predicting the bloodbath of capitalised screams and spammed Facetime calls from the group. Which, in all honesty, you severely lacked the willpower to deal with.

A soft shuffle of slippers sounded at the kitchen entrance, and you turned to face your mother. Still in her pink fluffy pyjamas, drowsily waved as she made her way to the fridge, delicately opening the door to grab the milk.

“How was last night?” she asked, making her way to the milk frother.

You hummed, walking to the coffee machine with a mug in hand. “It was…”

An absolute clusterfuck of chaos – would be the correct answer. But telling your mother you had drunkenly made out with the sweet little son of her old friend and the name of a boy she hadn’t heard from for half a decade probably wasn’t the best piece of news to be told first thing in the morning – if at all.

You slipped a capsule into the machine with a crack, half haphazardly pressing buttons on the top before a mellow whir filled the silence, “... Interesting.”

A short chuckle resonated inside the refrigerator door, “What did you do this time?”

You scoffed, offended by the direct jab of her question, “Hey! I don’t always get into trouble!”

“So you didn’t do anything last night?”

You groaned, pouring the foamed milk into the coffee mug, “Well, no…” Dragging on the o, you passed the mug to your mum, huffing as you sat on the countertops, “How can you always tell?”

“I think I’ve heard enough drunken antics from you to know,” she took a sip from her mug, raising her eyebrows at your phone lock screen, “And I think the amount of notifications you’re receiving says a lot too,”

You reached over the end of the countertop, swiping your phone with a roll of your eyes. Your once pretty lock screen of you and your friends had been bombarded by the stacks of message notifications, fulfilling your prediction of incessant exclamation marks and illegible keyboard smashes. However, one contact profile stood out from the rest – that being a concerned Renjun.

[ renjun ] u feeling alright after yesterday?

[ you ] physically, pretty decent. [ you ] mentally, very confused.

[ renjun ] haha fair, u did seem pretty wasted before u left

His message made you pause, attempting to dial back your inefficient memory to when you left the venue.

Did you even see Renjun before you left? Pfft, who were you even kidding – you didn’t even have any recollection of how you got home in the first place.

[ you ] remind me how i got home..? :)))

[ renjun ] … mark left u with minjeong who called u an uber home [ renjun ] god, how much do u remember?

[ you ] … not a lot

[ renjun ] u free wednesday? i think we need a debrief

“IS IT TRUE that you kissed both Mark and Donghyuck at the reunion?”

Now. When you agreed to get a casual drink with Renjun the following Wednesday, you had expected a few questions about your little flings with his friends to come up in conversation. But boy, did you fail to prepare for such bluntness so early on.

“H-how the fuck- did you- know?” Choking on the sharp intake of the unmixed gin at the bottom of your cocktail, the calm approach you had rehearsed on the way over to the bar fell apart as your response came out as a desperate splutter of coughs and stutters.

Renjun threw you a sidelong look, chucking the pathetic remains of the stale popcorn at your figure, which you barely dodged.

“Because those horny fuckboys told me, how else?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, the accentuation of the word fuckboys making you feel rather defensive over your drunken behaviour, “Just for the record, I don’t usually go around sucking faces with every hot guy I see.”

“I never accused you of doing so.”

A smug look settled on Renjun’s face, clearly amused by your unfortunate situation judging by the quirk of his lips as you reached for your drink once again.

“You are insufferable.”

“So-” Renjun dragged on, resting his elbows against the tabletop, “Who was the better kisser, hm?”

The alcoholic concoction got caught in your throat once again, sending both you and your rapidly declining self-preservation into a downward spiral. The straightforwardness of the boy is one of the contributing factors, the rest being the rather vivid flashbacks of your liaisons a few nights prior.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t talked about this before – in fact, you recalled it being one of the first questions shoved into your face when you picked up your friends’ calls. However, whether you gave them the answers they were desperately seeking for, you weren’t sure because simply. You weren’t exactly certain about how to answer it either.

“I cannot believe that you hooked up with both your childhood crushes and managed to mess up both interactions,” you remembered Shuhua splutter incredulously through your FaceTime call with the approving nods of the rest following shortly after.

“I just- how did you get the courage to pull the two hottest guys in our year whilst being the drunkest you had ever gotten?”

“It was because I was the drunkest I had ever been,” you grumbled in response, rolling your eyes at your screen, “I wouldn’t have otherwise.”

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t hook up with them again?”

You chose to remain silent for Ningning’s question, neither wanting to directly confirm or deny any theorised accusations which plagued your best friends’ minds, but, with the growing giddiness which reflected on their faces, you realised that no amount of silence could ever hide your real thoughts from your friends, prompting the passing notion that maybe the silence was actually meant for you and your restless little brain.

Shaking away your thoughts, you turned back to Renjun, “Why are you so interested in this anyway?”

Renjun slurped the last droplets of his cocktail, eyebrows raised in amusement, “Well, aside from the fact that you chose my two best friends as your hookups for the night – which, may I add, coincidentally happens to be both your childhood crushes – Let’s just say those two aren’t exactly on good terms right now.”

Your lips parted from the straw, “Aren’t on good terms?”

As far as you remembered, the three of them had been best friends since early middle school – a fact that made you want to coil up into a shameful ball of nonexistence – you recalled seeing them on the soccer field at lunch, oftentimes doubling over themselves over something on Donghyuck’s phone or the rare exchanges of shy hellos and flustered smiles when they had met up with Mark as he dropped you off in front of your classroom.

Despite the drift in friendship from your end, Mark’s friendship with Donghyuck had always seemed to remain close – which, considering their shared activities of partying, sports and residing in the same social circle, made sense.

Noticing your puzzlement towards his revelation, he added, “Believe it or not, they fought over the same girl a few months ago.” Renjun popped the fries in his mouth as if he wasn’t casually spilling his best friends' secrets to a girl he randomly reunited with a couple days ago, “which is funny because that’s literally what’s happening right now.”

You groaned, slinking further into the wooden seat with your head buried into your hands, “Great. So what you’re saying is that I’ve just further ruined your guys’ friendship because of some silly drunken mistake.”

“I guess you could say that.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Oh, lovely. What a great reassurance to hear.”

“I was just offering my pure honesty, no harm intended.”

The two of you slipped into a comfortable silence, ordering the last deserving round of the cheap happy hour cocktails before it was too late. As you waited for your orders to be delivered, Renjun spent the time scrolling through the photos of their drunken nights out, replaying the short clips of Donghyuck with a traffic cone over his head and his own unfortunate events of being rolled around the empty city in a stolen shopping cart.

With the number of snorts and giggles exchanged, it felt like no time had passed since your high school days – except for the increasing recklessness between both parties.

You began retelling your version of your nights out, from the gasps extracted as you mentioned witnessing a random street brawl in an alleyway to the disapproving tuts of his tongue about your case of being stranded on the side of a highway at three am.

“You know Y/N? You really are the bringer of chaos.”

You could only chuckle in response as you reached for your phone, “Trust me, I’m not that bad.”

However, as you unlocked your phone to read through your missed notifications for the evening, you realised that maybe you should fix your habit of making bad decisions whilst severely intoxicated, as what you found waiting on your lock screen served as a painful reminder of quite possibly your stupidest mistake yet.

Noticing your sudden change of demeanour, Renjun frowned, “Hey, is everything alright?”

You could only bat an eye, pushing your phone to his side of the table for him to read.

[ mark ] hey, what u up to?

[ donghyuck ] { image 1 } [ donghyuck ] wuju misses u :((

Yeah, you took it back. You really were the bringer of chaos.

a/n: bro u don't even understand.. this has been sitting in my wip docs for like more than a year😭 but i finally forced myself to write and post something on this app that wasn't a longass smau OIHFOIWEHF anyways thank you for reading!! don't hesitate to leave a comment and rb this post if you liked it🥲

taglist: @polarisjisung @wooyoung-a @w3bqrl @ficrecnctskz @rv7hsua @n0hyuck @neosdaisy @baekhyunstruly @rum-gone-why @dinonuguaegi @alethea-moon @klovmasworld @moonchele @chernabogsbiggestfan @xxxx-23nct @maeumiluv @produmads @shwizhies @dearlyminhyung @barbkh8450t @cupid-yuno @mxnhoeuwu @haechansbbg @sehunniepot @ujisworld

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indigochromatic · 3 days

Text

Some Basic Advice About EMDR for Systems

(drawing on our own experiences, reading about it, and comparing notes with our therapist)

This is mainly aimed at systems who are considering doing EMDR or planning on it, but want to know what the process is like and what to look out for, with some personal experiences sprinkled in.

Under the cut, because I talk a lot:

General Concept

I think the big picture in our experience is that EMDR is/was like…an intensifier for the kind of headspace/internal system interaction processing work that a lot of systems do naturally, at least a little, especially if they have decent internal communication. This has both upsides and downsides/areas to be cautious about.

A lot of EMDR pre-work (often called “resourcing”) is about making sure you have a good toolbox of “mental tricks/techniques” to be able to handle unexpected intense emotions, feelings, and/or imagery etc that often comes up when you get into trying to work with traumatic stuff. This is in my opinion very important, and something your therapist should take at least a few sessions to talk with you about even if you already have good tools for it already, just to make sure they know your strategies and you’re all on the same page. Also super common and normal to spend some time developing extra ones if needed—stuff like “the box” for temporarily containing crisis emotions when needed, having a mental “safe space” that you can come back to, etc. Also, EMDR specifically tends to often be a little rigid/scripted in the types of visualizations and metaphors you’re “supposed” to use, but in my opinion a good therapist should be flexible enough to adapt to equivalent images/techniques you may already have (like, “imagine you’re viewing the traumatic memory on a movie screen, or out the window of a train going through a tunnel” is a common instruction; if, say, your headspace has a lot of fantasy elements and it makes more internal sense to be viewing the memory via…scrying in a dish or something, your therapist should be down with you doing that instead, if you want to).

As for the sessions themselves, a big thing we don’t hear articulated a lot is that, in our experience and that of some other folks we know, EMDR has a tendency of being…like, sneakily intense: It doesn’t necessarily hit you all at once in the session, which may just feel like “ok, that was Some Therapy Work but I’m chill”, but then over the rest of the day and maybe even the next few days, it’s not uncommon to keep feeling a lot of emotional intensity/vulnerability, having more intense “internal conversations and/or realizations”, etc. For this reason, EMDR is generally supposed to start with a very mild memory-to-process, like 4-5 out of 10 max.

Notes of Caution and Stuff to Keep In Mind

Especially for folks who already heavily dissociate from emotional trauma, it’s super easy to think you’re “going too easy” only to find that the memory has a lot more emotional baggage than you realized—really go easy on yourself when you start, EMDR is like psychology power tools and you absolutely can hurt yourself. (We’ve heard from plenty of systems who had bad therapists who did not adequately support them in doing EMDR, and absolutely fucked them over by starting too big and retraumatizing the hell out of them— this isn’t meant as fear-mongering, especially if you really like and trust your therapist, but just genuine “hey, EMDR can be very volatile stuff, which is part of why it can be so helpful, but also means that it’s important to not skip out on the safety precautions and self-care”.) What this means in practice is often stuff like: (our recommendations at least) - trying to schedule breaks/easy days immediately after - possibly getting someone to drive you home, especially if you know you’re going after a Big Thing, because the dissociation hangover immediately after can be pretty real - start with a memory that feels "too easy", and scale up if a week later it still felt trivial/like you’re fully over it, because it’s way easier to ramp up than try to do damage control.

Our personal experience, in tl:dr form, was that it felt like the core of the technique was really useful for us, and mirrored some of the most useful instances of self-processing we’d had before while also kind of serving as a “shortcut” to it—but, it was pretty intense and we didn’t really like/fit well with the therapists who we were working with at the time, which is why we stopped (didn’t want to keep doing an emotionally intense thing with folks we didn’t trust).

Finally, a bit about EMDR and "maybe I'm plural but I'm not sure, and/or may not have great in-system communication": yeah, this is a case to be especially slow and careful, for all the aforementioned reasons; what my instinct/recommendation would be in those cases is to: 1) make sure you learn a lot of resourcing techniques 2) try to check in with yourself(s) frequently and with compassion/intent-to-collaborate, "ask the inside of your head how it's feeling" and even if you're not sure whether the "reply" was just your own thoughts or a headmate, listen and try to engage with/respect those responses and emotions 3) if you start getting warning signs/back-off signals/sudden intense feelings, listen to them and lighten up, pause the session if you need to, do some self care etc, even (especially) if you don't know why you felt that way and it seems 'odd/random', and really you're super curious about what's going on and just want to figure it out. Like...you and the inside of your head and/or other system members are trying to navigate a complicated D&D maze together, in the dark, and you each only have part of the map--so you have to work together and trust each other, especially listening to warning signals even when your "part of the map" doesn't show anything to worry about there. And the more you work together and trust each other, the better everything gets, including therapy work.

When it's "Death By A Thousand Papercuts"-type Trauma Instead

If you're not sure where to start because there aren't a lot of obvious "Big Bad Memories" that feel like they adequately explain the issues you're having, some recommendations:

-> First, note that "no Big Bad Memories are immediately coming to mind, idk" is super common in systems and also in CPTSD, way more than I think most folks realize, so know that you're not alone and also that it doesn't mean you don't necessarily have stuff deserving of help and support.

-> So yeah, there's kinda two things imo you can try. The first is, if your therapist is on the more flexible side, you can try doing EMDR with either "this specific memory wasn't too bad, but it's representative of an ongoing pattern or theme that wasn't great" (say, loneliness at school or something, and you pick a specific lunchtime memory, which wasn't really That Bad in the moment, but you were kinda sad and/or upset about it and it feels representative of the overall trend you're trying to process/heal). Or you can try just doing the EMDR process on the theme itself, at the abstract level, and see what comes up--again, I'd really recommend starting with a much lower-stakes issue/theme than you think you need, just because it's really easy to underestimate, especially for systems and other folks whose brains dissociate a lot. (And especially if you know your system has episodic amnesia--e.g. event-amnesia/blackout amnesia--as well as emotional amnesia.)

The second is, there are other "more flexible" types of similar somatic therapy techniques (brainspotting is the name of another one, and there's more I can't think of rn) that might fit better instead-- tldr, totally worth asking your therapist about the whole situation, and asking what they'd feel most qualified for/comfortable with, in my opinion. You don't need to be doing Specifically Exactly EMDR to do somatic trauma therapy, even though EMDR is one of the more well-known modalities for it, and finding a version that feels right and not like you're forcing anything is really valuable (and you're not 'being picky' if it takes a while to find one; you're allowed to want to find one that feels right).

#S.txt #system stuff #system experiences #plural system #plural community #sysblr #uhh help me out with tags here folks #this isn't just restricted to DID/OSDD systems btw it should hopefully be relevant for any systems who are in therapy and/or trauma therapy #endo safe

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hearts4golbach · 2 days

Note

Hii could you please write a Johnnie Guilbert x fem reader where they meet at a club and just get along really well then Johnnie takes the reader home and they cuddle.

At First Sight.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Singer!Reader.

a/n: wrote this while watching fellas big titty minecraft mod stream. i hope that says a lot about my persona.

"it's okay, y/n. just shake it out. ready?" your lead guitarist whispered to you. you nodded, proceeding to follow his lead. you shook out all your limbs, counting down from 5, to 4, to 3, to 2, and ending with one.

he looked at you and raised his eyebrow. "alright, let's do this."

you and your band had finally made it out of the garage. you were playing in downtown LA at a bar/club. you took one final deep breath before walking out onto the stage.

those who were sitting and watching clapped, cheering for every one of you as you strutted to your designated spots. "how's everybody doing tonight?" you questioned as the applause subsided. some people cheered, while others shouted a response. "that's good to hear! we're a local band called (band name), and we're so happy to be performing for you tonight! our first song is called (song name). i wrote this song whenever i was going through a really rough time, and it got me through that dark place. i hope you all like it!" i started to get insecure, feeling as if i was talking too much.

you made it through your first song easily, as if you had done this a million times before. you looked through the crowd, making sure to take in the sincere looks on everyone's face. one person caught your eye. he was sitting with two people, a man and a woman. he had raven colored hair that was parted to the side. he had smudged eyeshadow and eyeliner that accentuated his bright blue eyes. he gave you a small wave. you felt your face heat up as you shot him a smile and a wave. you thought he noticed you were staring. you couldn't help but keep glancing at him.

you ended the song, causing the growing crowd to erupt in applause. the guy cheered for you as well, whistling and clapping a little louder than everyone else. everyone in your band stood up and took a bow, knowing each group performing tonight could only perform one song. you waved goodbye to everyone before walking off of stage, followed by the rest of your band.

"holy shit, y/n! i dare say that was better than we've ever done during our garage concerts!" your drummer hugged you tight. you squeezed her back, thanking her endlessly.

"how are you guys feeling? our first real concert?! i'm so proud of you guys." you congratulated everyone as you all began to pack up. you were tired and ready for a drink. you and the gang had spent all day rehearsing this one song so there wouldn't be room for mistakes. it was worth it, but damn.

you packed your microphone up and brought it out to the van. you said goodnight to all of the members, since they decided to just go home instead of staying. you weren't planning on staying long, though. you were planning on calling an uber after a few drinks.

deep down, you were hoping that cute boy from the audience would come find you. you walked out from backstage, heading straight towards the bar. you ordered your usual, jack and coke. you sipped on it while watching other performers from the bar.

"hey, i really liked the performance." a kind, deep voice called from the left side of you.

you turned to come face to face with the guy that hadn't left your mind. now, you could make out his piercings and tattoos that you couldn't see through the bright headlights. you took in every inch of him from his shoes to the very top of his teased hair. he was wearing black boots with casual ripped, black skinny jeans. he also wore a my chemical romance shirt with a leopard print leather jacket over top. you thought all of his visible tattoos were cute, and wanted to see more. he looked like someone that wouldn't be caught dead without jewelry. he had red and black eye shadow smudged all over his eye, as well as squiggles trailing down to his cheek.

"hi, thank you so much. that was our very first live performance. i'm glad you liked it." you over explained, your only goal being to talk to him more.

"really? damn, you're a fucking natural." he smiled, climbing into the seat next to you and ordered. "can i have another long island and one of what she's having?"

the bartender nodded before turning away to make the drinks. "i try," you laughed, "to be fair, we've been working on that one song all damn day." you finished off your drink and set it on the counter. "by the way, i'm y/n."

the man shook your hand, "Im Johnnie. it's really nice to meet you." it felt as if sparks were flying whenever the two of you touched.

you smiled, "it's nice to meet you, too." Johnnie set your drink in front of you. "oh, thank you."

"you said you wrote that song whenever you were having a rough time?" he took a sip of his drink, looking at you over the glass. you nodded. "those lyrics were fucking great, i really like the way you think about shit. or, at least from what i've head." he back tracked.

you were taken aback from the compliment. your face flushed. "wow, i don't know what to say. thank you." you couldn't help but smile at him. you pointed at his shirt, "you know, MCR is one of my biggest inspirations."

his grin grew, "no shit, me too."

"you make music?!" your smile grows as well. you begin to like Johnnie the more you learn about him. he nodded in response. you quickly pulled out your phone and opened up spotify. "can i see?"

"of course." he smiled, taking the phone out of your hand and typing in 'Johnnie Guilbert.'

your jaw dropped as you noticed how many followers he had. "holy shit, you're huge." he blushed, not knowing how to respond. "i'll definitely be checking your shit out whenever i get the chance."

"that means a lot coming from someone someone talented as fuck." he patted your knee, sending chills down your spine.

"oh, shut up. as if you're not? look at you!" you pointed at his followers again.

"fair enough," he gave in. "maybe we should write a song together." he finished off the last of his drink before ordering another.

your jaw dropped, "that's the best idea i've ever heard."

"can i get your number?" he asked cautiously, not wanting to overstep.

you rolled your eyes. "obviously," you took his phone and entered your number, setting up your contact before texting yourself. "there. i noticed you in the crowd, where are the people you were sitting with?"

"they're out in the floor dancing or something, i told them i was going to try and find you." he shoved his phone in his pocket before glancing over to the dance floor.

"oh, okay. can i ask you a question?" you sip your drink.

"anything."

"why were you looking for me?" you were simply curious. but, you wondered if he had a deeper interest in you as you did him.

"i thought you were gorgeous. you just seemed like my kind of girl." he sighed, his drink was almost gone at this point. "honestly, i'm the most fucking anti social person you'll ever meet. i felt like if i didn't come talk to you i'd be making a huge mistake, so i kind of pushed myself out of that box." your heart melted, and it showed on your face. "what?" he laughed.

"i can just tell you're such an amazing fucking person. you really know how to talk to me, even though you claim to be an introvert." you tease, rubbing his arm.

the blush on his face grew darker. "i'm getting tired. I'm thinking about ordering an uber home." he seemed to hesitate for a moment before finishing his thought. "do you wanna come with?"

you agreed without hesitation. the alcohol was clearly getting to both of you, but neither of you cared. he carefully intertwined his fingers with yours. it was far from awkward between you and Johnnie. you stood outside with him, the warm summer breeze refreshing compared to the stuffy club.

"there's this ukulele i've had for as long as i can remember. i've been writing songs on it also for as long as i can remember. music has been my passion my whole life." you rambled because Johnnie wanted to listen. "i've always dreamt of being up on stage, and now i'm finally climbing my way up."

"damn, i'm really proud of you, y/n. i know it's a huge step to be performing in front of strangers." Johnnie lit a cigarette, hitting it once before offering it to me. "do you smoke?"

"mhm," you hummed, taking the cig with your free hand. you took a long drag, staring off into the distance as you exhaled a large cloud of smoke. the nicotine buzz hit you, increasing the feeling of the alcohol in your system. "i know, i couldn't have gotten to where i am now without my best friends. the people in my band are the ones who really motivated me to actually get out there, you know?" he nodded.

the uber pulled up less than 30 seconds later. you crawled in the back with Johnnie. he gave his address to the driver. you leaned your head on his shoulder, the drowsiness wanting to take over. "do you think this is weird?" he giggled, wrapping his arm around your waist.

"do i think what's weird?" you looked up at him through your eyelashes.

"that we met less than an hour ago and.." he gestured down towards me. "i don't know. i don't think it's weird." he began to back himself up.

"i think i've heard weirder happen. i already really like you, and we've just met. i don't find that weird." you comforted him, caressing his arm gently.

he leaned his head on top of yours, "I'm glad, cause me too. I'm glad this isn't one sided."

you blinked and suddenly the uber driver was parked right outside of Johnnies house. unsurprisingly, it was an extremely nice home. Johnnie gently shook your shoulder, informing you you were at his house. he helped you climb out of the car before leading you up to the front door.

"your house is so fucking nice." you mention as you wait for him to let you inside.

"thank you, i have 2 roommates, so this isn't just my house." he admitted, opening the front door. "do you need anything to drink?" he was beginning to noticeably slur his words.

"no, i'm okay. thank you. i'm just ready to sleep, to be honest." you rubbed your eye as you leaned against the counter.

Johnnie grabbed a bottled water out of the fridge and cracked it open. "well, i'm glad we're on the same page." he chugged the water before leading you up to his room.

his room was fairly empty. there was a closet, but the door was closed. he had a computer set up on one side of the room and a neatly made bed on the other. the window was covered by dark black curtains and the desk was covered in makeup. he had a few stray cameras laying around on a side table, as well.

"i take it you do more than just make music." you mention, taking a seat next to Johnnie on his bed.

"uh, yeah," he scratched his neck, "i do youtube, too. and stream. i do it all, really."

"somebody seems busy as fuck," you yawned.

he let a small smile show on his face, "maybe a little. are you staying the night with me." you nodded in response, making sure he wanted you to, as well. "good. do you want something to change into, your concert outfit doesn't look very comfy."

before you could deny or accept, he was tossing you pajama pants and a t shirt out of his closet. you thanked him. "you are one of the sweetest people i've ever met, do you know that?"

"i think it's just the alcohol talking," he laughed, changing into pajama pants himself. you shook your head vigorously.

he laid down, not taking his time before pulling you up close to him. you took in the new scents on johnnies skin, making sure to take a mental note of every one of them. you buried your head in his chest as you draped your arm over him. he had one arm a wrapped around your back while the other hand was running through your hair. you quickly let yourself fall asleep. Johnnie comforted you in a way no one ever had before. you began to think you could get used to Johnnie being around.

#fanfiction #fanfic #johnnie guilbert #jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert x you #jake webber #tara yummy #johnnie guilbert smut #hearts4golbach #fluff #club #emo fashion #2000s emo #emo #alt #goth

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luminouslywriting · 2 days

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How do you think the guys would react when one of their friends starts dating their sister? Like maybe she read in a letter that their buddy wasn’t getting any and decided to take matters into her own hands and strike up a pen pal-ship with them that becomes serious…

Imagine coming home from war and your baby sister runs straight past you to jump your buddy who she can’t possibly know

DeMarco?? As a brother? And Brady? As a lover?? I can see it now. LISTEN, I have thoughts under the cut, so buckle up kiddos haha! Reminder that my requests are definitely open and I don't mind spam :)

Cut for length, more under the cut, some light occasional spice haha:

-It doesn't mean to happen??? Like actually though?? Benny mentions in one of his letters home that a friend of his does not have a girlfriend and is feeling a little lonely at times

-And you, being the angel that you are, just take matters into your own hands

-So imagine Brady's surprise the week before he goes down in the Stalag to receiving a letter signed Y/N DeMarco

-There he is, going about his day, trying to get training in, and just minding his own business, and mail call comes and he has a letter?? He doesn't recognize the return address and he's a little baffled. But he's not about to turn down mail.

-So he opens it up and starts reading and it's this very sweet letter explaining that your brother mentioned he had a friend who didn't have anyone writing him and you were just going to fix that for Brady :)

-John Brady is many things—including flattered—but he's also like WTF?? Like where did this person come from, how old are you (is this allowed lol), and maybe it'll be nice to have a friend??

-So he writes you a letter back with these questions included and he fully means to mention it to DeMarco

-It's just that DeMarco goes down on a mission with Gale Cleven and there's nothing he can do about that

-And then HE goes down on a mission with Bucky Egan

-He honestly forgets all about it until letters to the Stalag start to arrive

-The thing about this entire situation is that he likes having a little something to himself? It's hard to get privacy and anything that's really 'yours' in the Stalag, and so these letters become an escape and a safe place for him

-He relies on your good humor and stories to get him through the day and all the while, he's falling in love with the person that you are without ever having seen you

-And it's the exact same situation for you

-Brady isn't stupid though, he burns all of the letters that you send him so that the Germans can't use anything against him when it comes to you

-So by the time that they switch Stalags again and again and he hasn't gotten a letter in months, he's already decided that he's in love with you and is going to ask you to marry him

-The only problem in this foolproof little plan of his is a short king with a dog named Benny DeMarco who will be absolutely furious about the turn of events that he has not been clued in on for over a year and a half

-So he figures that it's probably best to just....not mention anything until he sees you??

-LOL SIR NO

-But anyways, the war ends and the boys get to go home

-And Benny DeMarco is having a GREAT day. He's ready to see his family, his beloved little sister, eat some good chow, and sleep in an actual bed.

-He's fully prepared for the tears on the train platform and everything else

-What he's not prepared for is to see you run PAST him and jump into the arms of none other than Captain John Brady

^Actual footage of Benny DeMarco, seconds after seeing you and Brady kissing at the train station^

-So yes, he's baffled, bamboozled, shocked, dismayed, BETRAYED and majorly confused

-But after a whole sit down conversation about the letters and everything, he's super jazzed to be getting Brady as a brother in law and he's actually pretty happy about the whole thing

-But he absolutely turns to the younger siblings that you both have and warns them to never do something like this lol

-And yes, there may have been a fist fight that you heard about later between Brady and DeMarco, but it was never really that serious....just a protective older brother making sure Brady was good enough for you lol

#mota #mota fanfic #masters of the air fanfic #mastersoftheair #masters of the air #masters of the air x reader #ladies who brady #john brady headcanons #john brady x reader #john brady #benny demarco #benny demarco headcanons

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salty-ironstrange-shipper · 13 hours

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Hi. I saw this post asking for a fic that changed one's brain chemistry. Now there are a lot of fics I like; over 2000 bookmarked on ao3. And a lot of fics I love; I have 400+ of those fics tagged 'fave'. Of those 400, there are only around two dozen I would say legitimately changed me as a person. 1% changed the way I saw relationships and the world, changed the way I read and write. And I couldn't narrow it down to one - or ten - and didn't want to dump in OP's tags. So have this list of fics that permanently changed who I am as a person.

Warning: I love long fics, and some of these are the same specific tropes that I love or that really affect me personally (ex. arranged marriage). Expect angst, and especially angst with a happy ending. That said these fics are all objectively amazing.

(sorry to people who don't like long fics, but we are simply not the same. and that's OK.)

listed in order of fandom, then length.

Banshee In A Well - 43k, complete, DC, Tim Drake. Childhood trauma, childhood trauma, came back wrong/can't stop coming back! Tim is a little FREAK and I luv him.

straight on 'til morning - 102k, complete, DC, timkon/Kon-El. This is within the niche genre that for some reason appeals to me specifically, of characters having a LOT of feelings about sex and dealing with it poorly.

variations on a theme - 5k, complete, MCU, ironstrange. This is one of the fics that made me truly love ironstrange. Stephen sees through millions of possibilities and in doing so, falls in love with Tony. Evocative, beautiful, succinct.

The Art of Losing - 33k, complete, Red White and Royal Blue, firstprince. This fic made me cry. This fic BROKE MY HEART. And I WENT BACK TO IT. Multiple times! This is a breakup fic that breaks you down then puts you back together. You will come out different, and only you can say if it's for the worse or the better.

With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest) - 65k, complete, Red White and Royal Blue, firstprince. There are so many firstprince fics that essentially translate the events of the book into a different setting. And I love all of them. (My own fic, then fucking have me, also does this, self plug self plug self plug). I had to narrow this selection down to just one, and this is probably my absolute favorite.

You Don't Have To (Say Yes) - 192k, complete, Star Trek, spirk/Jim Kirk. This is within the niche genre that for some reason appeals to me specifically, of characters having a LOT of feelings about sex and dealing with it poorly (yeah, again).

THE MARRIAGE OF TRUE MINDS - 262k, complete, Star Trek, spirk. Star Trek arranged marriage epistolary fic. I read this 4 years ago, and I STILL think of a line from this fic constantly (we're aligned, we're aligned, we're aligned). If you don't read anything else for the rest of your life, read this.

DON'T THE WAVES PULL THE SAND? DON'T THE MOON PULL THE TIDES? - 58k, complete, Star Wars, finnpoe. I don't even go here. And yet. And yet. This is within the niche genre that for some reason appeals to me specifically, of characters having a LOT of feelings about sex and dealing with it poorly (yeah, AGAIN).

Not Part of the Plan - SERIES, 8 works, 337k, complete. Supernatural, destiel. This is an arranged marriage fic au series, that started with a oneshot pwp, and somehow grew into a sprawling, world and character building EPIC. And that to me is always a marker of quality. You KNOW it's good if the author couldn't stop themselves.

wander your own land - 379k, incomplete, Yellowjackets, shaunajackie and others. I told you I like long fics. Girl survival situationships, cannibalism, jealousy, cabin fever, hallucinations, trying to keep a fucking baby alive in some of the worst possible circumstances.

Infinite Variations of a Summer Day - 76k, complete, X-Men, Pietro Maximoff. I love Pietro, he is one of my favorite characters of all time, and this is such a great character fic. See Pietro slowly driven insane in a time loop that examines his relationships with himself, his team, his family, and his powers.

drop your own recs in the notes. and if you have any suggestions for griddlehark/the locked tomb, pLEA- *gunshots*

#fandom #fanfiction #fic recs #incorrect-ironstrange #tim drake #timkon #kon el #conner kent #ironstrange #firstprince #spirk #finnpoe #destiel #yellowjackets #shaunajackie #pietro maximoff

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nijigasakilove · 3 days

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Letterbox effect just hits so different in episodes like this. Masterful use of direction and cinematography. One of the most gut wrenching episodes I’ve seen recently.

Finally got Kano backstory and the world doesn’t deserve her. The way she idolised her mother and just wanted her acceptance while her mom couldn’t even be bothered to show up to her class on presentation day just broke my heart.. most parents would kill for a kid as pure and obedient as Kano, and her mom only cared about using her to further her career, gross.

Mahiru rep took a major hit in this one for me. She’s gonna have to redeem herself. Came off very snakey. Mfs are upset about me saying it, but planning all this stuff with Yukine when you know she and Kano aren’t on good terms and Kano has had some family issues in the past is very snakey to me! Yes, I get that she wants to advance her own career and grow to love her art and herself, that’s very valid, but I’m not working with my best friend’s mom who I know she has beef with or at least aren’t on good terms. It’s just messy.

And even during Mahiru and Yukine meeting you can already see signs. Like when Mahiru brought up Kano and she’s like “oh you mean Nonoka” she don’t even see her daughter as a person just as a commodity or product. Just like she sees Mahiru’s art the same. Calling Mahiru “sensei” and gassing her shit up.. she’s not slick man 💀 she’ll turn on you just like she did Kano when it’s no longer convenient.

The other thing for me is if you really feel like you doing nothing wrong, you wouldn’t even feel the need to call Kano and get her blessing. The fact Mahiru did that tells me she knew this was something that she probably shouldn’t be doing. Kano was clearly skeptical otp about it too 🤷🏾‍♂️ do I think Mahiru is a horrible person? No, but she did some snake shit. But again, respect to Yaku sensei for creating a situation that could very much happen irl because girlfriends can be messy as hell.

Talked about all that and ain’t even get into Mero running the YouTube expose page. That’s so fucking gross and Kano was very justified for punching her in the face. I’d rather lose the right way than win the wrong way and kano clearly felt the same.

Now Kano did say some nasty shit at the end to Mahiru but you know, Mahiru deserved it 🤷🏾‍♂️ and Kano was just desperate to not lose the only friends she’s had. After seemingly finally escaping her loner past and developing relationships now she sees her closest friend potentially drifting away from her with her MOTHER of all people, the same mother who when told her daughter’s concerns about not having friends or fitting in just brought up her dream of selling out Tōkyō dome. ofc she’d snap.

Could go on and on about it but it was amazing, didn’t even touch on everything I want to but I’m on vacation and need to go to the beach lmao. This episode fucked me up though. 10/10 as usual from my goat Yaku sensei. If there’s ever a Tomozaki s3 and 4 it’ll have stuff like this too.

#jellyfish can't swim in the night #yoru no kurage wa oyogenai #yorukura #animangahive #animanga #animanga hive #anime #yoru x kano

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tiffany-loves-broadway · 22 hours

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The Nameless

It's pride month, so I'm finally getting into X-Men. (Okay, I didn't actually plan it out that way, but it lined up.) Anyway, I'm surprised that everyone hasn't already gone nuts about the X2 villain's extremely miserable trans daughter.

Now, the thing is, this isn't explicitly confirmed in the text. But the subtext is in-your-face enough that it feels dismissive to call it a "headcanon". Like, this is the same movie with the line "have you tried... not being a mutant?" in it, and this character being trans isn't particularly subtler writing than that. I don't think it was intended to be so obvious, though. 2003 was a different time.

So, like, quick rundown on the plot of X2. Colonel William Stryker (in the comics he was a minister instead) is a bigot who wants to exterminate all mutants. His most vital asset in doing this is his "son", known only as "Mutant 143", or more often by her birth name, "Jason Stryker". Mutant 143 is a powerful psychic who can control people through dreamlike visions. William never accepted his child's mutation, and pulled her from Charles Xavier's school when he realized that Professor X had no intention of "curing" her. William blames his daughter for his wife's suicide; he had Mutant 143 lobotomized and began a plan to use her as a weapon against all other mutants.

And the thing is, Mutant 143 physically looks like this:

But like. Why wouldn't she, with that kind of dad? He has full power over her and has deliberately rendered her a dependent he can micromanage. I mean, Jesus Christ, the line I just randomly stumbled upon while opening and closing my media player to get that screencap was William Stryker saying

No, Charles, my son is dead! My son is dead, just like the rest of you.

Meanwhile, she consistently depicts herself in her psychic visions as this little girl:

And, like, okay, the extremely surface-level I-never-think-about-trans-people reading of that is that she's picking a "harmless" form to better insinuate herself into her targets' minds. But first off, the film never says that; it doesn't even really imply it. She doesn't pick different forms for different people; we only ever see her psychic ego as that little girl. Second off, her power doesn't really require her to put effort into seeming harmless to control people; the dream visions are more of an aesthetic flare on her power than they are a necessary mechanism. When she gets her psychic talons into someone, she can just directly command them to do whatever the fuck out-of-character thing and they'll do it regardless of plausibility. She's the classic cheesy horror trope of the scary possessed little girl, and frankly I don't think it would be any easier to get Professor X to kill all mutants on the orders of a little girl than a little boy.

She's been reduced to a shell of a person, but some element of personal identity still remains there. In her power. The thing she's being oppressed for.

This character doesn't receive a real name in canon. She gets two names from her shitty father: the dehumanization inherent in "Mutant 143" is fairly obvious and uncontroversial, but given everything I'm saying here, I don't think "Jason" is really better. She likely identifies with that name exactly insofar as she's been brainwashed into wanting her own kind dead.

It complicates things a bit that Professor X, another powerful psychic who would likely know her well, also calls her "Jason" a few times. But given the unfortunate circumstances of the film's plot... even if he knew, what else would he call her? She hasn't been fortunate enough in life to get a real name. It's not like, within the plot of the movie, stopping and pointing out what was going on would have been likely to help anything.

This is thematically important to the movie. Magneto certainly isn't meant to be right about everything, but there is a sympathetic throughline to him and his attitudes about the oppression of mutants. Earlier in the movie, he indicates that he sees mutants' cape names (like "Magneto") as their real names, and he encourages his allies to see themselves that way. The trans applicability here is fairly obvious; superheroes and supervillains make up their own names that make their marginalized status obvious. They can publicly identify with them to advertise their mutant status to the world instead of hiding behind ordinary names they were given by majority society.

This character, this properly unnamed character, never got anything like that. She never got to choose her own name. She was compelled by force to betray herself and commit to an external name that was entirely hostile to her.

Anyway, after the X-Men escape from her devious psychic maze they leave her behind in a collapsing building where she presumably dies because she's unable to move herself without assistance. Life sucks and shit happens. It was 2003.

Looking through relevant tags, I was able to find a few short posts discussing this idea, but I'm surprised that they're so sparse and I'm surprised that they treat the idea as so speculative. It really leapt out at me, watching the movie.

#x-men #x2

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lovezbrownies · 15 hours

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Birthday happenings. (Yandere Assistant x GN!Reader.)

Masterlist

Synopsis: Your mother, the Queen, never cared for your birthday. But someone else does. And they use it to their advantage. Also my belated birthday post :3

Siolis Ludenhart x GN!Reader.

You are the Queen’s only legitimate offspring. The only legitimate heir to the throne. Your mother is the honorable Queen Nia, who wanted nothing to do with you when you were born, neglecting your every need. Never had she attempted to engage in a conversation with you willingly. Queen Nia hated her mortality, and you were the biggest proof of it. She grows old and you just keep growing. The young heir has to replace the old hag of a queen eventually, and Nia hates the very thought. Your mother only ever held you once, during your birth. Nia then shoved you to the nanny she hired to essentially become your new mother.

None of your birthdays was celebrated by your mother, by the servants of the palace sure, but never Nia. She would always plan elaborate big parties in honor of her birthday, they’ve essentially become tradition at this point but you… Well, you got the scraps, you always got a small cake from the palace kitchen, a few tiny gifts from the servants, and a small party without anyone of your age, only your nanny and some of the palace staff.

Today was terribly dull, everyone’s busy getting the palace ready for some diplomat meeting, who cares really? You were trapped in your room to ‘not get in the way’ as your mother said. You tried everything for entertainment, books, hobbies, and devices, it all was boring. You never really believed in the gods but still begged for a chance to do something fun. Just as you finish pleading to the skies you hear a knock from the door. Probably lunch, that was late.

Standing up from your bed you let out a groan, opening the door you’re met with the very person you were most excited to see. Siolis. Ever since they’ve started working for your mother they plan something extravagant for you to experience. The first year of this was your 20th, you didn’t know each other well yet but they still did something, they had gotten you a big birthday cake and a jewelry box with the most gorgeous set of jewelry with gems and all. When you asked them how they could afford something like that and why they would do that for someone they barely knew, they said, “Don’t worry your little head about it.”

You smiled widely, “Sio! Oh! what do we have on the schedule today? We have to be quick or else we’ll miss my curfew.” This time Siolis looked more relaxed, they, for once, had a smile on their face. Siolis wore a poofy button-down shirt and high-waisted black pants that hugged their slim waist perfectly, something casual for them. Sio’s smile is beautiful, even if it’s soft and barely there, you can see the softness in their eyes, the care they hold for you is clear in their expression.

Siolis stepped forward, pushing you back into your room gently by the shoulders, they closed the door behind them. “Shh, keep quiet for me, okay? We’re not going to come back by the curfew. No one knows I’m here. I took the day off.” You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, Siolis doesn’t take days off. Probably because no one knows what to do without Siolis there to help them.

Siolis grabbed your arm, leading you to the balcony connected to your room, “What? Why? Are we not doing something today?” You throw questions to Siolis as the wind gusts at the both of you. Siolis smirked slyly as they leaned against the balcony railing. “Do you trust me, dear?” That dear was new! You flushed, with Siolis’ beauty and soft clear voice and that little nickname you almost fainted.

You hugged yourself, the windy current making you shiver. Siolis stared at you as you nodded yes, well of course you’d trust them. Siolis made sure you would, Sio made sure you fell in love with them in general, and by how flustered you looked it worked. “Then come here, hug me.” They announced, their arms wide open waiting for someone to inhibit them. Slight shock aside, you hugged them nonetheless, maybe they’re going through something and need your support!

You were wrong, the moment you stepped into their arms you felt dizzy and nauseous. It felt like your body was moving at unimaginable speeds, it felt like your brain was far behind your physical body, trying to catch up. And then it all stops, all the overwhelming movement ends, you’re still dizzy and your legs feel incredibly weak. A hand rubbed your back affectionately, while the other held you, hand tight around your midsection.

“I’m sorry, my dear, that was so sudden now, wasn’t it? How adorable you are.” The voice that spoke to you was so enchanting, you felt yourself calm down, the panic subsiding and making way for the feeling of serenity. You hadn’t felt so at peace in so long, it was like you were born again.

Siolis kept you up, as they leaned against the alleyway’s dirty wall, petting you and calling you affectionate names. They can see that probing your mind and making you feel calmer is helping you recover from their magic's travel speed. Siolis always appreciated their magic, but now they thank whatever god who blessed them with said magic as they watch you subsequently drool all over them from the lack of cognitive control.

Eventually, they let go of their grasp on your brain, making sure you feel completely fine before doing so. You blink once, twice, thrice, looking around you were… in an alleyway? And you were leaning on something sturdy. Looking up, you saw a smug Siolis, smirking down at you with their arms around your waist. You pushed away from them, and they let you out of their grasp. For now.

You begin to panic, “W-Where are we? Ho-how did we get here?” Questions frantically run out of your mouth, it was cute. Your panic and fear. Letting out a breath of contentment Siolis walked closer to you, grabbing your arms they looked at you in the eyes, their purple eyes looked so calm, “We are at a carnival. We got here using my magic. And this is going to be your birthday celebration.” Siolis put on a big smile before letting you go and holding their hand out, ready to guide you to wherever they’re going.

Just then a strange feeling of tranquility washed over you. Why worry? Why panic? Siolis is there to help you through it all after all, they’re your closest friend. You smiled, taking their hand in yours. Their hands were so nice and warm, you shuffled closer to them on instinct. Siolis smiled down at you, before leading you out of the alley and into the busy carnival. “Now let’s get going, today’s going to be a very long day with many activities.”

Siolis loves you. They’ve been in love with the enigma that is you since the first birthday they’ve spent with you. The way your eyes twinkle under the sun, your smile that shines stronger than stars, the very fact you take your royal responsibilities seriously is what had them. Since then, they’ve been planting seeds of doubt. Why stay in the palace if your mother hates you? Why stay when you yearn strongly for the outside world? Why stay when you can be with them.

They subtly mention the idea of moving out every now and then as you two celebrate your 22nd together. Siolis would mention how this day felt so freeing, how nice it was to leave that blasted palace, if you ever move out how this could be your average day-to-day, and you’d space off after those comments, contemplating everything they’ve said. Siolis is sure you’d accept their offer, they know your every thought after all.

Tonight was spectacular. Possibly the best birthday you’ve had ever! You spent most of the day playing the games available at the carnival, ate tons of food that’s probably bad for you, and bought a lot of little cute trinkets and accessories, it really was amazing for you! “Oh let’s go play that one! I want the panda plushie!” You exclaim, pointing at another challenge type of game. Siolis chuckled, their home is probably full of stuffed animals that the two of you won and Siolis immediately teleported back home. “Whoever wins first chooses the next thing we eat.” Sio challenged, “Oh we’ll see, sucka!” You retort.

Meanwhile, the royal palace is in disarray. Everyone panics as they look for the Queen’s only child, who is at the time deemed missing and possibly kidnapped, in fact there wasn’t a single trace of your existence. A bunch of your portraits had gone up in flames one random hour which caused the search for the heir to begin with. The public don’t know what you look like, and the people who do are very few inbetween. It was like you never existed.

The queen didn’t seem very affected by the news. You were always a nuisance to her, always searching for her, vying for her attention, blabbing day in and day out whenever she was free. But still, she needed to find you, or else she’d have to get another heir. Though she can;t get this horrible feeling out of her chest. A feeling of remorse and guilt, something she was never familiar with. Nia’s heart felt heavy as she looked out to the carnival going on outside, little did she know.

As the day turned into night, and the carnival started closing down, you and Siolis were perched on a bench outside of the carnival. You were concentrating on eating the ice cream Siolis bought as quickly as possible to get home before anyone noticed your disappearance. Siolis couldn’t help but admire you, so attractive even in the dark of night, but they couldn’t admire you for too long as a pair of uniformed officers approached the two of you.

Ah, Siolis knows these two, they’re always together during shifts and hang around the Queen. Looks like they finally realized you weren’t home all along. They saw you tense upon seeing them, grasping your hand in theirs they gave you a look of reassurance. Siolis bowed their head slightly while they bowed deeply when the two realized it was the Chief Assistant Siolis. “Good evening, Chief Assistant,” Siolis nodded in greeting. “There is a situation in the palace, the he-” And just then a yelp escapes you, followed by many groans of pain.

Just as the officer began speaking a loud booming screech erupted within your eardrums, you dropped your beloved ice cream as you clutched at your head. You couldn’t hear a thing, not the grunts and groans you’ve been letting out, not the officers asking if you were okay, and not Siolis telling them to leave the two of you alone so they can help you. And then, it all stopped. The ringing, the pain. All of it just randomly stopped.

You cracked your eyes open, looking up at the concerned Sio hovering above you, “-ou okay?!” Oh thank god you can still hear, you look around, and the officers are nowhere to be seen, “I- I don’t know? It stopped so suddenly I-I don’t know what that was… I’m sorry, did I make you worry?” Siolis put up a soft smile, “Should get you to a doctor tomorrow, hm?”

What you didn’t know was that the agonizing pain was Siolis’ doing. They knew that the palace was a mess looking for the missing heir, so when Siolis saw the officers moving towards you two they had slightly changed the way you look to the officer’s eyes. No one knows that the heir they’re looking so desperately for is right under their nose, and it pleases Siolis. They didn’t want you to hear what the officers were saying but it looked like Siolis had done a bit much than what was needed.

A sigh left the person standing in front of you. Looking up you saw the slightest frown on Siolis’ pretty face, what an unnatural sight. You almost have the urge to start acting like a circus clown just to cheer them up. Even after the sudden pain you just went through you cared for them. How they could just eat you up. “Something wrong, Sio?” You ask, unaware of what they’ll do. Unaware how deeply infatuated Siolis is with you

They looked so upset, it was so unlike Siolis to show any emotion at all so seeing them so upset was surprising. But it was all a ploy, to play with your emotions,To manipulate you… “I just… I don’t want this day to end so fast. I was thinking of how to prolong this day even more and… Well, I thought this foolish idea of inviting you over to my house. Like a sleepover, we can talk to one another, play games, and watch shows until dusk if we so desired. But then I realized how idiotic it would be and that of course you’d…deny me.” Siolis’ eyes full of sorrow, obviously hurt by the very thought.

You were stunned by how forward they were, and most of all, stunned that they never noticed you blushing and almost drooling at the mouth whenever they’d shamelessly flirt with you. Reject them? How ridiculous. “No! That’s a great idea! I would love to Siolis!” Hook, line, and sinker. Siolis got you, “But what about my mother? Won’t she be upset?” Siolis’ frown quickly formed into a sly grin.

“I’m sure she won’t notice, darling.”

#yandere x reader #yandere #x reader #oc x reader #yandere x darling #gn reader #gender neutral #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #tw yandere #nonbinary yandere #Yandere x reader #nb yandere #Yandere oc #Yandere oc x reader

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x-liv25-jamieswife · 2 days

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can you do a hc about nash and alisa ans what happened between them?

what happened to alisa and nash head canons

of course! this one is going to be on the shorter side bc we don't really know much about either of them as characters. a little recap of what we do know for those reading this who forgot: alisa and nash broke up bc nash wanted to distance himself from his grandfather but alisa didn't want to bc she was too loyal to him. basically, they just wanted different things. hope you enjoy!

near the end of their relationship, nash started to resent alisa for choosing tobias over him. he was under the impression, for a while at least, that alisa didn't love him anymore bc he wasn't good enough for her. he was still in love with her, but, being with her reminded him of his insecurities and his grand father.

alisa honestly didn't really like working for tobias. she would've left him with nash, but she didn't know who she was if she wasn't one of tobias hawthorne's lawyers. she had been by his side (even before she was a lawyer) for so long she didn't know what she'd do without him.

alisa also felt guilty just thinking about leaving tobias behind bc he had been so helpful over the years. i mentioned in my sad alisa hcs post that she lost her mom at a young age and her father was always working. tobias was like a second father for her in a way. he was there for her when her own parents couldn't/didn't want to be.

their break up was sort of mutual. it was very friendly (so no screaming or anything). they sort of just realized at some point that things between them wouldn't work out

nash was the one who officially put an end to things though. one night, before bed, he just said 'hey, i think we should end things'. they talked it out, and that night they slept in different beds for the first time since they got together.

it was harder for alisa to come to terms with their break up. nash had already been thinking about it for a while whilst alisa was in denial.

they had been distancing themselves from one another for months before that. they were avoiding each other in hallways, purposefully making plans when they should be spending time with the other, etc.

i think that they broke up a few months (maybe even a year) before emily died. i don't think that nash would be the type of person to immediately move on from one person and get engaged to another (libby) in a year (this means they broke up 1 1/2 / 2 years before avery inherited)

officially putting an end to things didn't only hurt nash bc it was the end but also bc he thought she was his only chance at happiness/marriage. he was under the impression no one else would want him. he sort of mentioned this in tbh, but i think that for months after the break up, he hid all of these insecurities and feelings from his brothers (successfully) in order to take care of them bc its 'his responsibility as an older brother'.

alisa's father got really mad at her for breaking things off. he was sort of excited to become nash's father in law and becoming part of the hawthorne family (he was loyal to tobias and would never hurt him but he had always been a bit jealous). he blamed her for it and didn't speak to her for 2 months which made things even worse for her.

alisa started doing really bad at her job, the only reasons tobias didn't fire her is because 1. he felt sorry for her, 2. he had grown quite close to her over the years, and 3. he knew she would slowly heal and start working properly again.

tobias found out that the reason nash broke up with alisa is bc he didn't want anything to do with him anymore. they had already been on 'bad' terms for a while but this really ruined their relationship. they still loved each other of course (even though nash didn't want to, he was still family), but those years before his death were quite tough on them.

bc nash is famous, their relationship was quite public, meaning that, when they broke up, everyone was talking about it. there were whispers everywhere, rumors about the reason behind their break up, articles being written about them, etc. this made everything worse for them bc they constantly had to make public statements and had to avoid going outside. their break up was also very unexpected. nash and alisa were sort of like the tom and zendaya of tig.

the break up is actually what got nash into bartending. he was at a bar, drinking his feelings away, and chatting with the other bartenders and realized that this could be a thing he'd enjoy.

nash would disappear from the house even more to avoid alisa and his grandfather. this really hurt his younger brothers and it affected their relationship with him. they eventually fixed it, but it was rough for a while.

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #avery grambs #grayson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #libby grambs #alisanash #alisa ortega

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wildsupernova · 2 days

Text

summer, sun, and a smoking engine.

summary: when your car breaks down on the side of the road in Hawkins, Indiana, you don’t have many options other than try walking and find help. Thankfully, Steve Harrington is here to help.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: strong language, no use of y/n, little bit of mechanic eddie thrown in there (not really a warning but i have nowhere else to put this)

a/n: hello! this fic is a bit self indulgent, i guess you would call it. my love life has been quite terrible pretty much all my life, and i’m the kind of person who can’t help dreaming about a movie cliche type meet cute, so i wanted to write this fic to help quell my insatiable desire for a rom com romance. this is part one of what will probably be a three part series, so i hope you enjoy! :)

if you’d like to make a request, my inbox is always open. i also have my prompts list linked below so you request one of those as well.

part 2 (coming soon) | masterlist | prompts list

Stranded on the side of the road in Hawkins, Indiana was not the way you wanted to start your summer vacation.

You should be in Indianapolis by now, lounging by the pool at your best friend’s house, raiding her parent’s liquor cabinet and getting drunk off your asses until you can’t remember anything the next morning. Not here, pounding against the steering wheel of your shitty rustbucket of a car wishing you’d actually remembered to do what your dad told you and take it to a mechanic before you made the trip. The horn honked as you slammed your forehead into it, but it was quickly swallowed up by endless fields on either side of you.

The universe had a sick sense of humor when it came to you in particular, and it seemed the jokes never ended. Some vengeful god or cosmic plan had singled you out as the sole outlet for their aggression; just a girl with a particularly unremarkable life, desperate to escape the world just for a few weeks and forget about her ridiculously non-existent love life and only slightly above average academic career.

Lately, your life has felt like one big joke. Everyday seemed to be the exact same mind numbing routine; wake up late, rush to make it to your 9 am lecture that left you falling asleep halfway through, eat the same shitty college cafeteria lunch you always did, spend three hours cramming for a test you know you’ll fail anyway, and go to bed at 2 am just to wake up and do it all over again the next day. You watched everyone else around you do something with their lives, whether they were partying all night or getting married. Everyone seemed to be having ten times more fun than you, and you were starting to think that you were just destined for a lonely, less than exceptional life.

By the time you hit 20 with no long term relationships ever (none that really meant anything, anyway), you’d begun to think it was all futile. Maybe you were destined to be alone forever, maybe you just weren’t looking in the right places, maybe it just wasn’t the right time, but whatever the reason, it had you banging your head against the wall every time your roommate gushed about how sweet and sexually adept her boyfriend was.

That’s why it really shouldn’t have surprised you that today of all days would be the one where you end up stranded in a town you’d never heard of until you saw the ‘Welcome to Hawkins’ sign a few miles ago.

You’d seen a few cars coming this direction before your car had broken down, so you knew there had to be some sort of civilization not far from here. You’d considered standing by your car and waiting in the hopes that someone would stop to help you, but the sun was already beginning to set and it didn’t really seem like the safest idea to be alone in your car at sundown, especially in some place you didn’t know. That’s what pushed you towards what you were doing now, walking down the long stretch of road and hoping that you’d find someone who could help you not too far down it.

Somehow, it seemed to feel hotter now that the sun was beginning to set, blistering heat causing sweat to begin forming on your skin almost the minute you stepped out of your car. You’d chosen the wrong day to wear a sundress and sandals, the arches of your feet burning more and more the longer you walked. You swatted at probably thousands of mosquitos that began to swarm you as you walked, and by the time you finally saw the signs of the city, you could feel your hair sticking to your forehead from the thick coating of sweat collecting there.

The sun was about halfway set by the time you reached the parking lot of the small strip mall, and when you looked at the watch on your wrist it blinked dimly at half past 5. Every store was closed already except for one, a small Family Video store with a single maroon BMW parked outside the door. Finding it the only option you had other than to keep walking, and hoping the AC inside would be working, you pushed your way through the door and hoped someone inside would let you use the phone. And the bathroom.

“I’m telling you, Robin, I’m hopeless.” Steve struggled to hold the stack of tapes in his hand, almost sending all of them tumbling to the floor when he tripped over a bump in the carpet.

“You’re not hopeless, you’re just looking in the wrong places.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“Maybe stop looking for the type of girl you had in high school? You’ve matured, so start looking for something new.”

“That's the problem, I don’t even know what my type is.” He placed the stack of tapes on the counter, picking up a few that fell over. Robin came to stand next to him, taking the tape off the top of the stack and starting to rewind it.

“I don’t know what to tell you, figure it out. Who knows? Maybe your dream girl will come walking right through that door any minute.”

The universe has one sick sense of comedic timing, doesn’t it?

Steve opened his mouth to offer up a rebuttal but was cut off by the chime of the bell above the door, hinges squeaking at it flung open then shut rather harshly. He turned towards the door and prepared to give his stupid, fake customer service greeting, but was cut short when he saw who it was that had just come through the door.

He had never seen anyone like you. Hair a mess as if your hands had been running through it for hours, covered in sweat and rocking back and forth on your heels to stop your feet from hurting, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anything more beautiful. Wearing a black sundress covered in white daisies and flat brown sandals, you looked like something out of a rom com cliche, damsel in distress stumbling into his life at just the right time. You looked around the store almost frantically and visibly irritated, but the second you laid your eyes on Steve on the other side of the counter you breathed a sigh of relief.

He had to snap himself out of whatever trance you put him in when you started walking towards him.

“Hey, do you guys have a phone I can use? My car broke down like a mile from here and I really need to call a mechanic.”

“Uh, yeah, there’s a phone in the back you can use.” A stray strand of hair fell into Steve’s face as he physically shook himself back into reality. “My friend’s a mechanic, I can give you the number to his shop if you want.”

“That would be perfect, thank you.” The relieved laugh you let out made his face heat up a bit, and he quickly grabbed a piece of paper to scribble the number to Eddie’s garage down on. He ripped it off and handed it to you, nodding towards the door reading ‘Employees Only’.

“Phone’s back there, take all the time you need.”

“Thank you so much,” Your eyes flitted down to the name tag on his vest, flashing him a soft grin. “Steve.”

Once you disappeared into the back room, Steve leaned forward against the counter. Robin let out a whistle and hopped up to sit on the counter next to him, kicking her feet back and forth.

“Man, I was kidding when I said she’d walk through the door any minute, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that starstruck by a girl you just met.”

“She’s probably just…passing through town. Who knows if I’ll ever see her again after this.” Steve popped the tape out of the machine and put another one in, trying to occupy himself with anything other than thinking about you.

“So? When has that ever stopped you before?”

“I don’t know, Robin. It’ll probably end in disaster just like every other time.”

“I don’t care. If you don’t take your shot with this girl, I might just kill you.”

Almost on cue, the door to the back room swung open again, a visible shift in your demeanor than when you’d walked in. You looked far less tense, and Steve found it hard to keep his eyes off of you.

“You are truly a life saver. With any luck, I’ll be out of here and back on the road before sundown.”

“It’s no problem, really.” Steve turned his head away to hide the blush on his cheeks. He gave Robin a look as she silently pushed him to keep the conversation going, eventually holding his hands up in surrender. “My shift’s almost over so I can, uh, give you a ride back to your car, if you want. I’d hate for you to have to walk all the way back in this heat. Plus it's almost dark, I wouldn't want a girl like you wandering around out there alone.”

Steve pressed his lips together tightly when he realized what he’d said, but the smile on your face let him relax.

“I’d like that, thank you.” You rocked back and forth on your heels while you waited for Steve to gather his things, dress swishing back and forth against your thighs. You laughed a little to yourself while he scrambled frantically, muttering something to himself while he flushed red up to his ears. You flashed him a sweet smile when he finally had all his things, following him out the door and into the beemer you’d seen parked outside when you first arrived.

Steve was handsome, there was absolutely no denying that. Sunkissed skin that was likely the result of hours of relaxing by the pool, fluffy brown hair you couldn’t help but want to run your hands through and the kindest brown eyes you’d ever seen. You were sure that at one time in his life he was a heartbreaker with all those good looks and boyish charm, but the way he got flustered just talking to you made you believe that he had put those days long past him.

He seemed almost nervous sitting in the car with you, doing his best to keep his eyes on the road while stealing a few quick glances at you. He adjusted himself in the seat and cleared his throat, trying to break the tension in the air.

“So, uh, what brings you to Hawkins?”

“Just passing through on my way to visit a friend in Indianapolis.” You smoothed down the skirt of your dress to find something to do with your hands. “Was hoping I’d get there by nightfall but, unfortunate turn of events I suppose.”

“Where are you from?”

“Out of state.” You kept it vague, still not quite sure if you could totally trust him. “I go to school in Indiana though.”

A few seconds later, your car finally came into view, seemingly in much worse shape than you left it. White smoke now billowed from underneath the hood, and you leaned yourself against the dash to try to get a better look from inside the car.

“No, no no no.” As soon as Steve made a U-turn and parked his car behind yours, you opened the door and ran over, running a hand through your hair in a panic.

“I’m sure it's not…that bad.” Steve tilted his head as he came up next to you, scrunching his face as he looked at the smoke continuing to spill from your engine. “Yeah, I don’t think it's supposed to do that.”

“Yeah, no shit.” You let out a groan before collapsing to the curb, head in your hands. “I should have listened to my dad when he told me to get it checked. Now who knows how long it’ll be before I can get back on the road.”

“Look, Eddie’s good at what he does.” Steve sat down next to you, nudging his shoulder into yours to offer some comfort. “He’ll have her back up and running in no time.”

“Yeah, well, it’ll take a miracle to fix all the problems with this piece of shit.”

Steve’s small chuckle was drowned out by the rumble of an engine, raising your head to see a tow truck traveling down the road towards you and your still smoking car. The red, hand painted detailing stood out against the black body of the truck, and as it got closer, you could hear the rumble of metal music blaring out of the open truck window. The driver, who you had yet to catch a glimpse of, backed the truck until the winch was close to the front of your car, the truck letting out one last puff of smoke through the exhaust as the engine shut off.

“Always picking up strays, aren’t you Harrington?” The driver called out at Steve as he opened the truck’s door, a soft thud sound following after as he hopped out of the truck. Steve rolled his eyes.

“I’m helping someone whose car broke down.”

“Mhmm. Bet you wouldn’t be helpin’ em if they weren’t so pretty though.” The man that had stepped out of the truck was the last person you’d expect to run a mechanic’s garage. Long, curly black hair down to his shoulders, arms covered in mismatched tattoos, and a cocky smirk on his face while he chewed on a toothpick. He looked to be only a few years older than yourself, and while you could tell that his disposition was likely off putting to most people he met, you found it oddly…comforting. Better a charming metalhead than a greasy bald guy drenched in sweat, you supposed.

“You gonna get her car down to the garage or what?” Steve put his hands on his hips, earning a laugh from the other man.

“Lemme assess the damage man. I gotta see what I’m working with.” He walked to the front of the car, playfully shoeing Steve away from it while he popped the hood. As soon as he did, smoke puffed out from around the engine, causing him to cough and wave it out of his face. He let out a whistle, leaning over the car to get a better look at the engine. “Good news, probably just a busted radiator hose. Easy and cheap fix, no biggie. Bad news? I won’t be able to fix it til’ the morning.”

“What?” You stood up from where you sat on the curb, leaning against the car. “I’m supposed to be in Indianapolis tonight. What am I gonna do?”

“Well, I’m sure ole Stevie over here can help you figure something out, can’t you Harrington?” He clasped his hand on Steve’s shoulder and gave him a rather rough shake. Steve sent him a glare before turning back to you, trying to offer up a sympathetic smile.

“There’s a motel a few minutes into town. Nobody ever stays there, so there should be room. I can give you a ride over, if you want.”

You took a second to take in your surroundings. Here you were, stranded on the side of the road in an unfamiliar small town, with a car that had no chance of working until morning and no way to tell your friend you wouldn’t make it to her house tonight. Your only other option was to start hitchhiking, so staying in a dead end motel sounded good right about now.

“I guess I don’t really have many other options.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, Eddie’ll take good care of her.” Eddie winked at you playfully, bringing a small smile to your face. “And Stevie here will take good care of you.”

“Eddie, come on man.” Steve hid his face in embarrassment while Eddie snickered, clapping him on the back when he went to hook up the winch. You hide the redness in your own cheeks behind your hands.

“Sorry man, couldn’t help it.” Once the winch was hooked up and the front wheels of the car were off the ground, Eddie hopped back into the truck, leaning out the window to call down to you before he left. “I’ll get to work on her first thing in the morning, promise. She’ll be good as new before you know it.”

He flashed you another smile before starting up the truck again, driving back towards town while you stood there watching your car get dragged along behind him.

“Sorry about Eddie. He can be…alot, sometimes.” Steve leaned on the hood of his car, crossing his arms over his chest. You shrugged.

“S’okay. He reminds me a lot of a few of my friends back home, actually.” Steve chuckled a bit and nodded towards his car.

“Well, you’ll be able to handle him better than me then. Come on, I’ll take you over to the motel.” You climbed back into the passenger seat of Steve’s car, sending him a quick thank you before he drove off.

The sun was almost fully behind the horizon when you finally pulled into the parking lot of the ‘Stop Inn Motel’, a small, two story collection of motel rooms with a main office smack dab in the middle of it. There were only a few other cars in the parking lot, and the flashing neon ‘vacancy’ sign above your head almost made your head hurt in the dimming light.

The girl behind the counter only looked up from her magazine after you rung the bell, rolling her eyes as she stood from her chair.

“It’s $10 a night for a single, $15 for a double.”

“Just a single for the night, please.” You went to reach into your wallet for cash but Steve stopped you, handing over his own $10 bill to the desk attendant. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“You’ve already had a shitty enough day. It’s 10 bucks, no big deal.” Your shoulders relaxed at the soft smile on Steve’s face, kind eyes softening when he saw the way your mood rose a little. The girl behind the counter dangled a set of keys in front of you, which you took quickly.

“Checkout at 2 tomorrow. Stay after check out and it's a $5 fee per hour unless you pay for another night.” You gave her a nod and a thank you, which she ignored before heading back to her chair from before and flipping through her magazine again.

Steve helped carry your bags from his trunk up to your room, standing outside while he passed you your bags over the threshold. You thanked him one more time before going to close the door, but he cleared his throat nervously to stop you.

“Hey, uhm, you’re probably starving after everything today and I thought maybe I could…show you the best places to eat around town while you’re here?” The nervous wringing of his hand had your heart swelling in your chest. You were usually the one nervous around guys like Steve, and you simply couldn’t find it in yourself to turn down his offer. You’d always wanted to take more chances. Why not this one?

“I’d like that.” He raised his head as if he’d expected you to say no, smile curling his lips upwards. “Just give me an hour to get changed. I’m, like, drenched in sweat and dirt right now.”

“Yeah, yeah of course. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Good. See you then.”

You watched Steve all the way back to his car, closing the door behind you once he got out of your view. You leaned against it for a moment and took a deep breath in, then frantically began opening your luggage to find something to wear.

Hey, maybe your piece of shit car was good for something after all.

⊲Part 2, coming soon⊳

#steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #steve harrington angst #steve x reader #stranger things angst #women writers #stranger things fluff #fluff #short fanfic #meet cute #romantic #short series #eddie munson #mechanic eddie munson

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