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poppy-in-the-woods · 2 months

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Braids

(Ok, let's see if I remember how to do this fanfic thing.)

Plot: Inspired by this post and the comments. Noah and reader have a little tradition after sex. Nick and the others find out, but teasing Noah backfires on them.

Pairing: Noah x Reader

Word count: 1571

Tags: fluff, smut, oral (both female and male receiving), profanity, p in v.

It started almost as a joke. One day, after sex, Noah’s mane was so messy you asked if he wanted you to brush it. Surprisingly, he said yes, so you grabbed your paddle brush and untangled his dark locks. Next time, you bought a brush specifically for him and had it ready on your nightstand. He sat still and let you run the brush through his hair, occasionally letting out soft moans.

“This is so relaxing,” he said.

It was for you, too, so you did it every time after you had sex from then on. The first time you braided his hair, you were joking about giving him a gold star for every orgasm he had given you (and it had been a busy night). You didn’t have gold star stickers, but you wanted to give him a little extra something. While brushing his hair, your eyes wandered over your vanity, landing on the little plastic box of hair ties you had bought the day before. You sectioned the pertinent hair and braided four little braids on the side of his head.

“Now you got your medals,” you said, half joking.

But he didn’t take it as a joke, not at all. He demanded his recognition every time you had sex from then on (he also liked the feeling of your nimble fingers working his hair, but he wouldn’t tell you that).

Then he went on tour and you missed him. A lot. It was usually hard to sleep without him next to you on the bed, when he was on tour it was extra hard. Fortunately, you were going to be able to join them for the stop closest to your home. You talked on the phone the previous day, before the show, all excited to finally be able to sleep in the same bed again and smother each other in affection.

“I can't wait to be with you again, hug you and kiss you,” you said.

“Yeah, me too,” he responded. “I dreamed of you yesterday,” he told you.

“Yeah? Was it a nice dream?” you wanted to know.

“It was. We had sex all day, and you gave me a lot of braids,” he laughed.

“Well, maybe we can make it come true,” you replied, playfully.

“I can’t wait. See you tomorrow, babe.”

Little did you two know that Folio was listening (he didn’t mean to snoop, it just happened!), and he ran to the others.

“Guys, I have finally solved the mystery!” he announced.

“What mystery?” Jolly asked absentmindedly, focused on his guitar.

“Noah’s braids!”

“I thought they were just braids,” Nick chimed in. “You know, that he was experimenting with new hairstyles and such.”

“They’re not just braids!” Folio announced. “Y/N gives them to him after sex.”

“How does that make them ‘not just braids’?” Jolly asked.

“Knowing Noah, they’re fucking medals” Nick.

Jolly chuckled at the pun, but he agreed. The number of braids never followed a pattern, at least not one he could see. The braids being visual representations of how much he had been ‘loving’ his girlfriend were as good an explanation as any.

The boys got their confirmation the day after the concert. You had been to the show the night before, hanging out and partying with them after, so they all slept in; not you and Noah, though. He woke you up at eight with a bountiful breakfast and after a while of cuddling and relaxing together, watching TV, he began kissing your neck and slipping his hands in your underwear, and you felt him getting hard against your ass.

“Shall we go back to the bed?” you asked.

“Nah. Let me finger you first,” he said.

“But you’re so hard,” you protested while he ran his fingers through your wet folds.

“And you’re so wet, and I barely touched you,” he chuckled. “Let me please you in all the other ways I can before getting inside you,” he whispered into your ear.

You nodded as his fingers penetrated you, moving deliciously in and out, curling and massaging your G-spot, eliciting a moan from you.

“That’s it, baby, let me hear how much you like it,” he said, voice low with desire.

He finger-fucked you, rubbing your clit with his free hand, until you came undone. You were still recovering from that when he slipped out from behind you and knelt on the floor before you. Maintaining eye contact, he hooked his fingers on the elastic of your pajama shorts and yanked them along with your panties. You hissed as the cold air hit your core, still sensitive from his ministrations.

“Babe, are you sure you want to…?” you began, but before you could finish the question, he was already between your legs, lazily lapping at your arousal. “OhGodNoah!” you gasped.

He laughed but kept on eating you out, his licks soon getting very purposeful and not lazy at all. He was a man on a mission (making you come again), and he fully intended to accomplish it. You allowed yourself to be more vocal this time; not that you didn’t enjoy it when he finger-fucked you, but Noah was a pro with his lips and tongue, and he loved to make you come. Soon your second orgasm was going through you like a tidal wave, so intense that you saw white for a moment, toes curling, eyelids fluttering. You moaned his name, a hand gripping at his hair, the other digging into the couch. He smiled at you, still licking at your clit, riding you through your orgasm.

When he got up, the mere vision of him (the lower half of his face still glistening with your juices, his hard cock straining against his sweatpants, tattoos in full display) was enough to turn you into a feral creature. You lowered his sweatpants in a swift motion, freeing his erection. You curled your hand around his shaft, pumping him slowly. Maintaining eye contact, you licked a stripe over the sensitive head, tasting the pre-cum leaking. He moaned.

“Babe, as much as I love when you blow me, I need to be inside you,” he said, reluctantly pushing you away.

You guys went back to the bed. Noah grabbed a condom from the box on his nightstand, opening it up and rolling it over his length. He wasted no time, fucking you fast and hard against the mattress.

“Fuck! Sorry, I didn’t mean to… Did I hurt you?” he asked, suddenly worried.

“Did I tell you to stop while we were at it?” you asked.

“No”

“Then don’t be an idiot, I’m fine,” you assured him.

You cuddled. Then fucked again. Then cuddled some more. Then you rode him like a cowboy going into the sunset. Then you took a shower together and had lunch. By the time you joined the boys in the spa of the hotel, Noah had almost half of his hair in braids, and you were not walking straight. Folio elbowed Nick, attracting his attention over Noah and you, and Nick tapped Jolly’s shoulder. They looked at each other, knowingly, but said nothing.

“The poor thing must be so raw,” Jolly whispered to the other two, watching you two at the hot part of the pool. Folio and Nick stifled a laugh.

You were sad to part ways with Noah the next day but, to be honest, your vagina needed some days off after what you did.

“See you in a couple of weeks,” you said, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek and then his lips.

“I already miss you,” he sighed, resting his forehead against yours.

You hugged him one last time before he got on the bus.

“I’mma put my coochie on ice as soon as I get home,” you jokingly texted him after you waved the bus goodbye.

“Should’ve eaten you out more,” he replied.

“Maybe. But I was there, and I enthusiastically participated. Don’t be sorry for what we both enjoyed.”

You saw him again for the second last show at the end of the tour, going straight to the hotel room after the concert. He made sweet love to you that night, very intimate and passionate. You loudly moaned his name as you came, back arching off the bed, inner muscles contracting around him, dragging him over the edge with you.

“I love you,” he said with a soft voice and hooded eyes.

“I love you too,” you replied, caressing his cheek.

He almost fell asleep while you were brushing and braiding his hair. He also let you be the big spoon, which didn’t happen often.

The next day, when he arrived at the sound check, the boys were surprised to see him with only one braid.

“Slow night yesterday?” asked Jolly.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Noah asked, confused.

“Looks like you were too tired after the concert for round two,” replied Jolly, pointing at his hair.

Noah blushed violently.

“You guys know about that?” he asked, mortified.

“You and Y/N are not very subtle, to be honest,” said Nick.

“It’s surprising, though, you always have at least two braids,” Jolly reflected.

“What can I say, that’s just how she likes it,” Noah said, shrugging while smiling, very full of himself.

“Dude, next time he meets Y/N to ‘hang out’ and he returns with braids, he won’t be able to fit his ego through the door,” Nick joked.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens fanfiction #poppy writes

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humanitys-strongest-bamf · 6 months

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Hiii congrats on 2k! 🥰😘 can I request canon post war Levi x reader exploring the world they fought for and cuz I have to include this the reader blurting out how pretty he is and him calling her a brat

Sorry for this oddly specific weird request I'll go back to my corner now lol

I LOVE THIS PIC SM SDKFJKSDJF HE'S SO POUTY

turned this into a oneshot oops LMAO i just love postwar dadvi sm 😭

also shout-out to @chaotic-on-main for the cute idea of levi trying to explain the rumbling through shitty drawings

Just Being You | 2K Follower Event | Post-War Dadvi Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ 1.2k ✧ notes ➼ post-war, fluff, levi's attempt at explaining the Rumbling to a six year old lol

"Daddy, why is the island the only place that doesn't need to be fixed?"

You looked down at your six-year-old daughter that had been spinning in circles just a few seconds ago that was now kneeling next to Levi in his wheelchair, bombarding him with questions regarding the Rumbling.

The three of you were currently on a boat traveling back from Paradis Island, having decided to take a few weeks of vacationing to see the Titan-free world that so many had been sacrificed for. You were on your way back from the island after showing your daughter where her parents met, as well as some of the nicer areas of the island that wasn't overwhelmed with their military forces, like the beach or the meadow that you and Levi commonly snuck off to when you were overwhelmed.

You quickly tried to formulate some response about how it was too complicated for you to explain right now, not wanting to expose your six-year-old to the horrors that nearly caused the extinction of humanity, but you looked towards Levi as he reached into his bag to pull something out to help answer her question.

This wasn't that much of a surprise to you. Levi wasn't a fan of lying to her. He never was the type to sugarcoat or make up some cheesy story to avoid exposing kids to the grim reality of what had happened, and he especially wasn't the type to do that to his own kid.

You saw him pull out his sketchbook that he had recently picked up, wanting to pursue some type of hobby that he could do from the couch or his wheelchair on days when his knee was flaring up.

You watched as he began to draw out the Titans, explaining how big they were compared to humans, and how colossal the Titans involved in the Rumbling were, eventually going on to explain that the big Titans came from the island and spread throughout the world. You found yourself considerably impressed with how he was explaining the war without going into too many details regarding the xenophobia the world had against the Eldians.

"What's that?" your daughter asked, genuinely interested, but also confused as Levi began drawing the structure of the Walls.

Levi wasn't a great artist. He had started drawing the Walls to explain how the Titans moved during the Rumbling, but it was from a top-down perspective, so it just looked like three circles surrounded by stick figures.

"The walls that used to be on the island," he explained with a sigh.

"Is that the island?" she asked, pointing to the dot at the center that was supposed to represent Mitras. "Why were the Walls built in the ocean?"

"They weren't," he explained, trying to hide the irritation in his voice over his inability to draw something comprehensible. "That was Mitras, the Capital and center of the island. The Walls surrounded it."

You watched her nod rapidly as he explained whatever it was that he was trying to draw. Despite how much he was struggling to get his point across, she seemed to be genuinely interested in the history of the island.

"Why are there people floating?" she asked after he began explaining how you used mobility gear to fight against the Titans to compensate for how large they were.

"Is that supposed to be me?" you asked, finally leaning over to see what it was that he was trying to draw, and pointing at a stick figure that vaguely had a hairstyle matching yours.

Levi paused and you could tell that he was getting exasperated with the comments and questions.

You could almost hear him blatantly groan in relief as he cursed underneath his breath once your child's attention was ripped away by a dog belonging to another one of the tourists running by.

"Mommy, can I go play with the puppy?" she asked excitedly while tugging at your shirt.

You nodded, reaching down and fixing a strand of her hair that had formed into a loop after getting tangled.

"Just don't go too far, okay? And be nice to them. I'm sure that poor puppy is overwhelmed."

You watched as she ran off to play with the dog while incoherently explaining Levi's history lesson to them.

Sighing, you sat down on the bench next to Levi as he pinched the bridge of his nose, quickly developing a headache from how flustered he had gotten while trying to explain a somewhat complex topic to his child that had yet to develop an attention span.

"Maybe we can pay for you to get art lessons once we get back home."

"Don't start," Levi grumbled, barely letting you finish your sentence.

You chuckled at his reaction as you grabbed at the drawings he had produced. They were indeed terrible and barely comprehensible, but ended up looking quite cute as a result, despite the fact that they were attempting to depict a bleak reality.

Your smile gradually faded as you got reminded of the horrific events that occurred surrounding the Rumbling, and even before then, when you were trapped within the Walls, with your comrades dying left and right while fighting in what seemed like a hopeless war.

"Lev'," you voiced, getting his attention, "don't you think she's a bit too young to be explaining all this to?"

He glanced over at you.

"What, you want me to lie to her instead?"

"She's six," you reminded him. "I don't know if she can even comprehend the fact that nearly all of humanity was wiped out."

Levi paused for a moment, knowing that you were right. It was a big topic to be explaining to someone so young. Still, he wouldn't have felt right lying to her in a vain effort to protect her innocence while living in a world that was nowhere near innocent.

"She's a smart kid," he eventually murmured. "She'll manage."

After noticing that you weren't responding, he looked over at you, and saw you eyeing him with a warm smile on your face, despite the fact that the two of you were in disagreement over this topic.

"What?"

"Hmm? Oh nothing, it's just..."

You trailed off, slightly shaking your head as you tried to keep the smile on your face from growing too wide.

"I just love seeing you with her like this. It's almost like it's in your nature—being a dad," you mused, your heart warming. "Never thought I'd be fortunate enough to get to see papa Levi on a daily basis."

You looked at him as you smiled, noticing the slight tint that had appeared on his cheeks.

"Plus, I never get to really appreciate how god damn pretty you are when you're just...being you."

Levi was clearly struggling to hide the blush forming on his cheeks and ears at this point, and cleared his throat as he shifted around in his chair after averting his gaze.

"What?" you teased, noting his struggles in maintaining that aloof demeanor that you had worked so hard to break down throughout your relationship.

"You're such a brat sometimes," he grumbled, annoyed—and a tad embarrassed—at the fact that you pointed out his natural tendency when it came to fathering your child.

You chuckled as you leaned forward and placed a gentle and quick kiss on his cheek.

"Love you too, Ackerman."

tagging since this was an actual oneshot! :3 #: @chaotic-on-main @levisbrat25 @leviismybby @moonmalice @averysmolbear @cathybarn @tclbts @emiwhore @bejewelledd @sad-darksoul @ackermendick @aomi04 @apolloshaiku @laraackerman @pulpolicia @raenacreates @nube55 @roseofdarknessblog @saenora @noctemys @sixpennydame @sleepyfairyxo @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @catskze @nixie-writes-aot @la-undercover-latina @v4mp-wife @darkstarlight82 @professorweezy @braunsbabe

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi heichou x reader #captain levi x reader #levi fluff #follower event #levi #levi ackerman #levi heichou #captain levi #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin #snk

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heartlilith · 6 months

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Astrology Observations (part 3)

Here are some of my observations and opinions on various placements - Part 3

🖤The Sun in a Solar Return Chart will show you what you focus on the most that year:

🐸 Sun in the 1st house: The focus will be on yourself, your image, your appearance and the way you approach life. You might start working out and becoming more fit, you might experience something that changes the way you look at life, you could change your appearance in some way; getting tattoos or changing your hairstyle. You might focus on putting yourself first and taking care of your own needs.

🐸Sun in the 5th house: The focus will be on romance, creativity, the inner child, and joy. You might prioritize having fun over working or things just seem to work out that way. You might pick up a new creative hobby; painting, writing, creating. You might find that you're around children more often than in past years. You might find that you're content and happy most of the time. You might focus on dating and meeting potential partners or maybe you don't focus on that, but it happens anyway.

🐸Sun in the 10th house: The focus for this year will be on working, your reputation and public image, your father, and fame. You might find that most of your energy is going into building a career or advancing in an existing one. You might receive a lot of attention in the work place (good or bad depending on aspects). You might have a good relationship with bosses and coworkers (again, aspects). You might have a change in relationship with your father, or this relationship becomes prominent in some way. You might get famous on tiktok!

(Should I do separate post on this?)

🖤Moon aspects can reflect what your relationship was like with your mother and how it affects your emotions.

🐸Moon square/opposition Saturn: This aspect makes you prematurely self sufficient. Maybe you couldn't count on your mother for emotional support or maybe she was ill or dealing with things that kept her from being an emotional support system. This aspect would in turn make you hesitant to voice your emotions, it can make you feel uncomfortable with vulnerability or make you side eye someone that puts on a grand display of emotions.

🐸Moon trine/sextile Saturn: This aspect could mean you have a close and strong bond with your mother. Your mother could've demonstrated how to be nurturing without smothering. This could impact your emotions by making you value family and morals. You feel a responsibility toward your loved ones and are a "rock" to them so to speak. For men, you respect women and their struggles. You might believe in traditional gender roles but nonetheless you are respectful.

🐸Moon conjunction Saturn: This aspect could signify that the father (Saturn) was absent in some way which put a lot of stress on the mother. You may have been a burden to her in some way or felt like it. Emotionally, you probably felt like you didn't get enough love or attention. This could impact your emotions by being very observant to what other people need. If your friend is outside shivering without a jacket, you would give them yours without any exchange of words. You're giving them what you lacked; love and attention. You may not trust people easily and you may miss out on opportunities because of your fear of rejection. After your Saturn Return, things can ease up with this aspect.

🖤Neptune in the 11th house natives can have friends that peer pressure them into drinking/doing drugs. Neptune rules things that put you under the influence whether that's anesthesia or other drugs like alcohol, weed, etc.

🖤Moon-Neptune hard aspects can use drugs and become addicts in order to cope with emotions. It can also manifest as being an escapist or being completely avoidant when it comes to emotions. This aspect can be seen in children who run away from home a lot.

🖤Mars - Neptune hard aspects can make you easily deceived regarding sex. Partners can "get you drunk" in order to have sex with you.

🖤Venus - Neptune hard aspects can put up with a lot of shit in relationships that other people might not. People cross your boundaries a lot because they know they can get away with it.

🖤Jupiter is known for being lucky and expansive but it can also go the other way as well. For instance, having Jupiter in the 6th house can make you extremely healthy or extremely sickly, depending on the aspects.

🖤Gemini placements might like the thought of doing something rather than actually doing it. I saw a post that said Gemini placements always carry around notebooks but have they ever filled one? That's what I thought.

🖤Air signs, especially Gemini and Aquarius, are naturally able to think outside the box. For instance, a person may think they only have 2 options and air signs name 5 more options you didn't even think of.

🖤Aries fashion sense is underrated, whether its the sun or rising sign.

🖤New York City being established on January 1st, 1898 .... do you know what sign that makes it ..... it's not a Pisces or a Taurus I'll tell you that. Astrology is real.

🖤Libra Suns and Rising women makes me think of fluffy clothes. Like teddy sweaters and those sandals with the fluff on them (examples x x x)

🖤Leo placements want to be where the sun is, do not take them on a cruise to the Arctic please ... I really wish someone told my boyfriend this

PART 1 - PART 2

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dangopango00 · 3 months

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ABYSS RAZOR CRUSH HCS BC IF I DONT GET SOME CONTENT I WILL DIE

Abyss Razor x gn reader

Prompt: yall r madly in love he has a crush on youuu (boyfail situationship hcs more like tbh)

A/N: sorry if this is rambly i cant live like this i keep rereading the same 4 or 5 posts over and over again ive been waiting for like a year and im getting teased with the tip PLEASEEE WRITE HIM 😭😭🤞 i cant ever escape the ‘nobodys fave but mine’ curse help

Ily losermen

Ily high ponytail men

Ily abyss razor

more utc

- Im gonna jump he is so kewt. Idek what to say im just ill

- You’d probably often compliment his eyes and you have this image that hes so calm and collected— which he is! But! Not with you! So every conversation with you is him just fighting for his life trying to look cool and not implode at the same time

- ^^^ THIS is one thing. But what really gets him falling for you is when you get a bit closer and have a talk with him, telling him in no uncertain terms that he’ll always have someone to return to if others are cruel because you won’t be leaving him

- Gives you things VERY often, usually little things because hed die if he had to directly give you a gift and then have to explain why, so he shows his affection in little ways like letting you have his best pencils and pens if you need it (lets you keep it too)

- oh he absolutely loses it if he sees you continue to use his pen hes so touched that you’re taking good care of what he gives you it shows that it means a lot to you and that he means a lot to you

- The only actual gift he gives you during this stage are things he has an excuse for like origami (idk why but i feel like he makes cool ass origami) he can just say he made too many so hes giving them away yet you and maybe Abel are the only ones who received some…

- He wants so badly to be useful to you he gets so flustered and happy just hearing you say thanks when he answers your question about the assignment or when he lends you his materials

- Immediately stiffens when you make any sort of contact. Dont stop though, he can count the times hes been hugged on one hand

- Speaking of his touch starvation, he’d let you play with his hair and looks forward to it tbh he’d just rather not initiate anything it’s too much for his heart

- If you have him take down his hair and play with it (like braid it or try different hairstyles) he’d feel so content; ofc he’s nervous but at the same time he just feels so at peace as if it’s only you two in the world and all the people who have ever wronged him never existed in the first place

- He’s a little bit delulu, i fear

- He gets so nervous texting and calling you bc what if you tell him ily. No that could never happen. Wait but what if it did— do you see his dilemma?

- He’s a chronic overthinker and in a way its a bit sweet because he used to worry about you randomly saying you didn’t want to be friends with him but now he wouldn’t even consider that possibility; it just no longer enters his mind

- He’d also find himself drifting off, losing himself in thought and end up daydreaming about if you two were in a relationship

- It’s very innocent, it’s just you two being cute and going places together while holding hands and such until it drifts even further to imagining you two kissing

- His face is on fire and he has to stop thinking NOW but hes in too deep hes imagining kissing ice cream off the side of your mouth and other cliches like that it’s so over

- Abel wondering wth is wrong with his right hand; all he said was that he was going to make mother happy by doing his homework today meanwhile Abyss can no longer be normal

- The kissing is just his guilty pleasure but Abyss constantly imagines holding hands with you like if you walk too close to him his hands will get clammy and his fingertips will get cold because he wants to hold your hand but is scared to initiate it

- God forbid you actually hold his hand even for a second while he’s having his entire internal monologue. He will die. You killed him. How could you?

- He won’t let go though like. Ever . Handholding is his favorite thing 5ever and as soon as he gets a taste he’s hooked

- He likes handholding so much that if you held his hand enough times then one time he’d accidentally grab your hand and initiate for once (immediately gets flustered after but it counts)

- Really really REALLY likes when u trace over his magic lines. Ruins his life everytime and he just melts in your touch; subconsciously leans in and his face softens and EVERYTHING

- Ok i wasn’t gonna say it bc itd probably involve sm sneaking but: Sleepovers. IM JUST SAYING 🤞🤞🤞 I feel like this is where most of the softer moments happen tbh like your roommate being out and you two have a sleepover

- I think this is where the playing with his hair and tracing the lines on his face would happen if not this then when you’re bored in class

- Not a fan of PDA even if ur not dating so he does play with your hair but usually during the sleepovers if you’ll allow him (not quite trying new hairstyles like you do but letting it fall through his fingers, running his hands through it or just rubbing the ends with his fingers to feel how soft it is)

- If you are bald he would slightly hold the back of your head and rub your temples with his thumb to help you relax

- Idk ik i just went on about how hes a loser but I feel like when it comes to affection relating to hair or like anything not affectionate in a cliche sense he doesn’t really pay attention and does it without thinking; only realizes its too affectionate if you point it out (please do not, he feels very comfortable right now. He will stop and never do it again if you point it out)

- You have a lot of deep talks and give him encouraging words during sleepovers tbh it just gives you both time to just… enjoy each other uninterrupted

- Sometimes instinctually distances himself from you because you make his heart do somersaults and his head feels like it’ll explode around you though he doesn’t last long, he needs you with him everyday atp 😭

- Although the above is true, sometimes he gets clingy ish (just by your side all the time) and protective over you even knowing you aren’t his

A/N: a ridonkulous amount of these r based on things ive done erm. Ok. Ig next thing i should write is him with an equally loser gf i def fit the bill LOL

#abyss razor x reader #abyss razor #mashle #mashle x reader #mashle x you #abyss razor x you #mashle magic and muscles #pathetic loser #loserman x reader #boyfailure #ILY ABYSS #Why do i got a thing for men w two seconds of screentime #cutie patootie

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icyg4l · 2 months

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Pick-A-Poet: How Can You Heal Your Ancestral Trauma?

Paid Readings

Hello people, thank you for your patience. In honor of Black History Month, I am dedicating a series to Black American icons. This post is dedicated to Black American poets. Below, there will be a quote that was chosen from one of their poems to go along with the reading. The deck that will be used in this series is the Hoodoo Tarot deck. Without further ado, please pick the poet that stands out to you.

***Disclaimer: Some topics may be triggering to whomever is viewing.

Left-to-Right (1-3): Maya Angelou, Countee Cullen, Reneé Watson.

“Love strikes away the chains of fear from our souls” - Maya Angelou, Touched by an Angel.

Cards Used: Three of Coins, Dr. Buzzard, Dem Bones (RX), Mother of Baskets, Ten of Coins, Strength.

Pile One: For those of you that resonated with the quote from Maya Angelou, I have a question for you. You do know that you don’t have to be anyone’s ride or die, right? You are loyal to a fault. But it’s literally within your bloodline to be that way. There could be someone in your family who was scapegoated, falsely accused of a crime or could have went to jail for something that was easily avoidable. I heard, “Make it right. Do what’s best for you.” You could be in the process of making a life changing decision right now but the air is foggy. It’s okay to be selfish, if it means you’ll be led down the right path. You don’t need to follow what everyone else is doing. Your ancestors want you to know that you don’t need to be so hard on yourself either. Compassionate TLC is what you need to give yourself. I keep seeing images of quick weave hairstyles in my head & my head got itchy while I was doing this reading. I think you need to take a break from these & let your scalp breathe. Let yourself breathe in general. For those of you that are darker skinned, there is a female ancestor (grandmother or aunt) that wants you to know it’s okay to experiment with your personal style. I’m channeling Doechii’s energy. You don’t seem to be conventional, they respect it. So don’t be scared to look different. People will always have something to say but your beauty is admired by all.

“Death cut the strings that gave me life, and handed me to sorrow” - Countee Cullen, Saturday’s Child.

Cards Used: Black Herman, Ace of Knives, Nine of Knives, Eight of Coins, Aunt Caroline, Daughter of Knives, Three of Knives, Six of Baskets.

Pile Two: You do know that you don’t have much to worry about, right? Throughout American history, we have seen the documented struggles of Black Americans. With each generation, the next would have one less thing to worry about. Your ancestors want to tell you that you are more privileged than you think you are. You tend to worry about things that are out of your control. I feel that a lot of you could have dealt with unexpected death a lot in the past couple of years, specifically dealing with the lungs/heart. Your ancestors could have a history of heart disease/lung disease. This could have been a family member that you drifted apart from & you feel guilty for it. But there’s nothing that you can do to change the past, my love! What you can do is take care of your physical body. Join the gym. Drink lemon water. Eat when you feel like it & don’t label any foods are ‘good’ or ‘bad’. I heard someone coughing; you should avoid smoking cigarettes & weed as well or really any substance intake. Eat bananas too! You can only control what goes on with I also feel that some of your ancestors could have been hypochondriacs, had OCD or suffered from religious delusions. I would considering talking to a therapist if you feel that you’re headed down that path. Make decisions that are beneficial to your freedom but remember to count your blessings.

“Our bodies, a mosaic of languages forgotten, of freedom songs and moaned prayers” - Black Girls Rising, Reneé Watson.

Cards Used: Big Mama, Miss Ida, Ace of Sticks, Mother of Sticks, Six of Knives and Three of Sticks.

Pile Three: You’ve been saying you’re going to move out of the city you’re in for too long. Get out and stop talking about your plans to relocate. Your ancestors don’t think that there is anything there for you anymore. Your family could have lived in this city for decades but it’s changed so much that you don’t even recognize it anymore. Some of you could be from the East Coast, specifically Philly or Baltimore. You need to get out before you talk yourself into circles again. Some of y’all could be in school about to finish up a degree; keep going. A grandmother spirit is so so so proud of you. Before you relocate, take some days off to visit so that you can see what this new city is like. Many of your ancestors were not able to make plans and go through with them because of unfortunate life situations. Teen/unexpected pregnancy, severe mental illness and/or murder could have been factors that prevented them from following their dreams. If teen pregnancy runs in the family, you should acknowledge this as a fear of yours so that you can make smart decisions in regard to sex rather than making costly choices. Also, practice safe sex with a partner that is equally as conscious as you. Your ancestors want you to know that you can accomplish anything you put your mind to. You have bright ideas and you should share them with the world. Be confident in your spotlight. You deserve to take up space.

#law of assumption #manifesting #neville goddard #hoodoo #tarot #tarotreading #astro notes #pick a card #pick a pile #divination #pac reading #pick an image #spirituality #tarot deck #tarotcommunity

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project-sekai-facts · 6 months

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World Link Events - what we know so far

I'm going to try to explain the new World Link event type as simply as possible before the Searching for a Reflection Beneath the Waters event starts tomorrow (the 8th) at 8PM JST / 11AM UTC. This covers all information that has been released, but lacks any in-game demonstration because obviously I can't do that yet. All information comes from this news post as well as the in-game event announcement. Despite trying to keep it simple, there's still a lot of information, so it's under the cut.

What is a World Link event?

World Link events are a new event type that is largely story and lore focused. They will tell the stories of how the focus unit's member's feelings have changed, and at the end of the story, the SEKAI might change too...

The event will be formatted in parts, referred to as "chapters". Each chapter will be centered around one member from the focus unit, and will have its own "chapter story". Each chapter is 2 episodes long, and there is also an intro and epilogue episode, making for a total of 10 episodes. Each chapter will also have its own ranking and exchange.

To boost your event bonus, you will be able to create an extra "support team" for this event type. Each character will have their own support unit, meaning you can make 4 support units in total.

Event ranking and exchange

There will be two rankings for this event type: chapter and overall. Chapter rankings only count the event points earnt during a chapter, and overall totals your points throughout the whole event. For example, you could get T500 on Mafuyu's chapter, but T100K on the other chapters, which would probably put you in a low position on the overall ranking despite the high ranking in one chapter. New specially-designed titles have been added for those who T100 in chapters (overall ranking will retain regular event titles).

You will earn tokens like normal by playing this event, and they can be used in the Chapter Exchange for whichever chapter is running at the time they were earned. So Mafuyu chapter tokens can only be used in the Mafuyu chapter exchange, etc. There will also be a general exchange, which can be used by converting chapter tokens into general tokens.

There is also a new item in the exchange, called Bottle of Feelings. At the end of a World Link event, you can get these from the exchange. It will give Character Rank XP, presumably to the character whose exchange you bought it from.

Event bonus and support unit

Support units will be available for each chapter of the event. They can be made from up to 12 cards, however these must be cards for characters in the event unit. For example, in the upcoming event, you cannot have VBS cards in your support team. You cannot put cards that are already in your main team in your support team.

Note that support units exclusively affect event bonus and will not have any effect on actual rhythm gameplay (i.e: skills will not activate and your team's total power will not change).

Your total event bonus will be calculated based on main unit bonus + support unit bonus. The types of bonus differ between units. Refer to the charts above (translated by @/pjsekai_eng on twitter)

Event cards

As with every other event, World Link events will feature a gacha with new cards. World Link event cards are officially known as "unit event limited members", meaning they will only appear in unit event gachas in future (e.g: the new N25 cards will be in all future N25 event gachas, but only in N25 event gachas. No mixed events and no other unit gachas. It's a similar concept to fes cards).

However, these lims are a bit different to normal lims. Instead of unlocking hairstyles at Mastery Rank 2, these unlock something called "3DMV Another Cut". This is what it says on the tin: it's an alternate cut of an existing 3DMV that will focus on the character whose card is at MR2. The alternate cut is a short piece of solo choreography that takes place in a unique stage. The normal 3DMV will cut away to this scene for a few seconds before playing the rest of the MV as normal. Here is a video I found with all the another cuts.

The Another Cut only applies to a specific MV that the card is tied to. For the 6 upcoming World Link events, their cards at MR2 will unlock Another Cuts for the relevant unit's song from the 3rd anniversary image song campaign (Twilight Light for N25, I'm Mine for Virtual Singer, the rest TBA). You can view the Another Cut by putting the card in your team and watching the affected 3DMV.

Additional notes & info about the N25 event

All four members of a unit will be featured 4*s in World Link events. Presumably when the Virutal Singer one rolls around, all six of them will be 4* cards.

There is no 3* available from the exchange in World Link events. There is a 2* available though.

There is no specific event attribute that increases bonus for this event type. All the gacha cards have a different attribute.

World Link events do not have newly commissioned songs, since they do not count as part of the "main rotation" of events. All the image songs will have been added by the 3rd World Link event

Emergency maintenance may be carried out during the upcoming event to fix any problems that occur, due to the short length of each chapter. If the game is not working properly for more than 24 hours during a chapter, the chapter will be rerun after the event (it is unknown how this will affect the WxS event scheduled to run after this one)

This event does not start at the regular time of 6AM UTC, instead starting at 11AM UTC (the usual end time for an event). Each chapter will run for 72 hours and there will only be roughly a minute gap in-between one chapter ending and another starting. Refer to the image below for the start and end times of each chapter (JST = UTC+9)

If you hadn't worked it out from the image at the top of the post and the one just above this, the order of chapters is Mafuyu->Mizuki->Ena->Kanade

The next WLE is scheduled to be Vivid BAD SQUAD in the first event in 2024. WxS is scheduled for the first event in March, MMJ for the first event in May, L/n for the first event in July, and VSinger for the first event in August.

#project sekai #it's actually the 8th for me already but i started typing this when it was the 7th. apologies for any spelling/grammar errors - i'm tired

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slushycoookie · 2 months

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Shaving His Hair

Relationship: Miguel O'Hara x GN! Reader

Word Count: 776

Content: Fluff, lice, Miguel's curls are gone and he's bald! (No not really)

Summary: After an unexpected lice outbreak, you have to cut Miguel’s hair.

A/N: Miguel when his hair is shaved is hot as hell, I don't care what anyone says. Also this one is kinda connected to the washing his hair post I did so if you wanted to read that too, here.

There was a lice outbreak in HQ.

You would think a bunch of superheroes could combat a bunch of little bugs but no.

Miguel ordered anyone who had said lice to get it taken care of in their dimension. Or go to the infirmary for treatment. The leader of Spider Society thought he was safe. Trying to avoid anyone who had potential contact with someone with lice. He was wrong. That’s why you two were in the bathroom. His head was in his hands as he sat on the toilet while you laid out the required tools. All set up like you were about to conduct surgery.

“This was your idea.” You reminded him while putting on rubber gloves. “The doctor said we could try the treatment and see what happens. You don't have to cut it.”

Miguel’s head shook, not wanting to look at what was about to happen. “The doctor said my case was more serious. It's best to cut it all off.” You were about to argue some more. Try to get him to see reason. But he stared at you with large eyes, knowing what he had to do despite not liking the decision. “It's my hair.”

He was right.

You wanted to support him, reassure him you were always going to be on his side. So you got the clippers ready. You weren't a professional but you knew how to cut hair. You surfed the internet to look up tips to make sure it wasn't uneven. Miguel wanted to get everything over with but you were determined to make his hair look nice.

The buzz from the clipper filled the bathroom. You started from the front, placing his head back to get a good view. The device hovered over his hairline as you wanted to give him one more chance.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“Yes.” Miguel huffed, “I'm not changing my mind.”

“Alright, alright. Just checking.”

You ran the blade towards you, chunks of hair falling off and hitting the ground. Bye bye curls. Your eyes couldn't help but go wide at the fact you could see his head. Now you were picturing how he would look shaved. With that sharp jawline and high cheekbones. Miguel was going to be attractive regardless of his hairstyle.

“Any day now…”

You stuck your tongue out at him before continuing. Dragging the clipper down his head. Locks cascading down on his covered shoulders. You did your best to get all the extra hair you could, making sure he didn't look a hot mess.

Once you were done, it was time to wash it. You suggested doing it at the kitchen sink as you didn't feel like going in the shower.

“Really? We're doing this in the kitchen?” He asked.

“Don’t worry. I already cleaned it.” You pointed down to get him to bend over. Thank goodness for stools as you stood on it to get a good angle. The shampoo for lice had a minty scent. Almost medicinal when you rubbed your fingers along his scalp. The scent was strong enough to bring tears to your eyes. You hoped your partner wasn't having a worse time due to his enhanced senses.

“How you doing?”

Miguel grunted and you couldn't help but snort. “I'm fine.”

“At least one of us is.” You blinked repeatedly to get yourself together before rinsing him off. As much as you weren't a fan of the shampoo, you wanted to be thorough. Much to yourself and apparently his chagrin, you did another wash. It was better the second time around, your eyes getting itself together this time. There weren't any complaints from Miguel either.

With the lice vanquished and the prevention solution working, you dried him off with a towel. You grabbed the mirror from the bathroom and held it up to his face to see what you did. Miguel examined himself. Head tilting from side to side while trying to see how he looked.

“My head…it's so…square looking.”

You snickered, “It's a very handsome square look.”

Miguel playfully glared at you, “So you agree? That I'm square?”

“When you wear those glasses, yeah.” He pulled you in for a hug, not tolerating your teasing. “Okay, okay! I'm joking, you actually look pretty handsome.”

He held up the mirror once more. Seeing yourself and him in the reflection. “I do?”

“Yes. My handsome baby.” You peppered his face with kisses. The medicinal scent from the shampoo still lingering. “Oh by the way, you should find the person who started that outbreak. So this doesn't happen again.”

Miguel pursed his lips, having the same thought. “Yeah, good idea.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #slushycoookie writes

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lookingviewer · 2 months

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"After Live🔴"

Here's another comic that didn't come out... I had a lot of ideas for a comic while I was getting into this game.

If you are interested, write about it, because this is not what this post is for 🤣

For understanding:

The story is told BEFORE the event of a main game, that is, while our actor Sunny Day Jake is still alive.

And the funny thing was that I noticed that I looked like a little him, not counting my gender and hairstyle 🤣... And growth, yes!

They hired me as an understudy or replacement for actor Jake because of my external similarity, not counting other shortcomings 🤣

Yes, at the beginning he reacted with hostility to this news (this is for the Arc) but in the end they became good colleagues :3

So, I decided to make a comic (2-3 years ago) about such dynamics, although it turns out that this is a long prologue? Yes, I planned the situation with the actor Jake as a prologue, because “After Life🔴” (like... Live Broadcast, hehehe).

And also my version of who could have killed Actor Jake... Although, who knows, maybe it was me? Not because of the role of course :3

It's just that Jake might have déjà vu then, that he somehow remembers me, even though I just look like this person.

In short, there were a lot of thoughts 🤔

#fanart #sdj #sdj jack #sdj oc #sdj fanart #sunny day jack fanart #sunny day jack #sunnydayjack #somethings wrong with sunny day jack #After Live #Old art

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1000roughdrafts · 2 months

Note

hey! if you take requests, i’m just wondering if you’d consider a sister winchester one? maybe her at 18? i love your writing so much, and i’d really love something like a hurt reader/dying reader?? something super angsty ahaha

Oh, for sure! Angst is my favorite! (as I'm sure you can tell by the word count lol) sorry it’s taken me like 3 years to get to this 😞

A/N: this was meant to post 2/28/24 because I wanted to ease into coming back with an every other week posting schedule BUT I’m just too excited and antsy for that lol also it’s set in Season 1, Episode 1

Thank you by the way!

Title: Please Wake Up

Warnings: swearing, graphic description of injury and illness, blood angst, hurt/dying reader, depiction of medical procedures, takes place in season 1 episode 1 :)

Word Count: 5.8k

Being third born after two boys, Y/N always felt like she had big shoes to fill. Despite her best efforts to impress the man, she never really formed a bond with John. Her next role model was Dean, who became more of a father to her than John ever was or could be.

Until her eleventh birthday, Dean did her hair into pigtails every day, partly because he hadn't learned to do any other hairstyle but mostly because he thought it was the cutest on her. He'd pack her and Sam's lunch with snacks he'd bought from vending machines and even pretend to take her on hunts because he knew she wanted to be exactly like him.

When she wasn't learning about monsters and guns with Dean, she spent time with Sam. He'd help her with her homework or play board and card games. They have as much in common as Y/N and Dean. Neither Sam nor Y/N got along with John, and neither remember their mothers.

Y/N's mother was a woman John met in Nebraska three years after the boy's mom died. The affair only lasted a night, but to his surprise, he heard from her again six months later with the news that they had a baby girl on the way. John was shocked and heartbroken. He couldn't bear the thought of bringing another child into the life of hunting.

John kept his distance, adamant that Y/N would be better off without him, and when another three months of silence went by, he figured that Y/N's mother came around to see it his way. Unfortunately, her pregnancy was complicated, as was the birth, and it turned out that having Y/N is what killed her.

When John got the call, he had half a mind to let the state take custody of little Y/N. Indeed, they would provide her with a better life than he could. John decided to meet her at least, and when he laid eyes on her perfect little face, he couldn't bring himself to abandon her.

Y/N was barely sixteen when Sam left for college. While she was proud of him for putting himself first, it broke her heart for him to go the way he did. She missed him more and more every day, often keeping Dean up at night with her sniffling and crying. After a while, he would get into bed next to her when the tears started and sing Hey Jude while playing with her hair to help her fall asleep. That went on for another six months before she finally started to fall asleep without crying.

For her seventeenth birthday, Dean came across a necklace he'd wanted to get for her since Sam left. From his wallet, he took out the only picture he had of the sibling trio, representing the single moment of their life where John treated them like regular kids, and using his pocket knife, he carved around their heads and bodies to match the exact size of the locket, smiling proudly at himself when it fit perfectly.

Now at eighteen, she stands next to the Impala while Dean lugs their bags out, drops them into the trunk, and slams it shut. He heads for the driver's door but stops when he realizes Y/N hasn't opened hers yet. Eyebrows raised, he twirls a finger in the air as if to say, 'Let's get a move on.'

"Are you ever gonna teach me how to drive, Dean?" she asks. "I mean, you've got to, you know?"

"No, I don't. Get in," Dean says. She does so with a huff. Dean checks the mirrors before backing out of their parking spot. Turning to Y/N, he says, "Besides, as long as I'm around, you don't need to," but softens his face into a smile when he looks at her. "Cause there's no way in Hell I'll ever let you drive my car."

Y/N lets out a soft chuckle. "It doesn't have to be this car, Dean!" She rolls the window down, letting the cool breeze hit her face. "What happens if we get separated and I'm being chased by… I don't know, something that has super speed, and my only way back to you is to steal a car and -"

"Stop. First of all, you should know that I'd never put you in that kind of danger," Dean says, disgusted by the mere thought. He lets out a long sigh. "I'll teach you," he says, looking at her gleaming smile. He tries his damnedest to see her for the adult she's becoming, but he only sees the happy baby in pull-ups he used to feed marshmallows and jello to on a motel room floor. "Just… not yet, okay?"

She scoffs, "Most people learn to drive when they're only fifteen. I mean, you took me to freaking Vegas with a fake ID for my birthday, for fuck's sake!"

"I said not yet, Y/N!" he says, shooting her the 'dad look' he's been perfecting since she was four.

"Fine," she grumbles. She clasps her hands, "So I was looking through news articles, and there seem to be vamps in the next town. Should we be on that?"

Dean clears his throat and needlessly adjusts the rear-view mirror. "Actually, kiddo, we're on something else right now." He keeps his head straight but glances at her out of the corner of his eyes. Whispering, he says, "We're gonna go get Sammy."

Y/N's eyes widen as her head whips to look at him. "What?"

He keeps his eyes on the road, "yeah, uh, with Dad missing... we could use the help," he says, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

"But Sam's at college!" Y/N scoffs, "he wanted out!"

"He abandoned us!" he shouts, shaking his head at himself when he notices her shoulders tense. Her eyes peer into her lap, where her hands lie folded. “Look Y/N/N, I just… I can't shake this awful feeling that something is wrong." He waits for a response from her, but she only nods with thin lips. She tunes him out and focuses on the wind hitting the window. "I gotta make sure they're okay," he says softly.

Over the years, Y/N has learned to trust Dean's intuition, but right now, it just feels like he's being selfish. She opts to stay quiet, even if it makes a long drive longer.

Y/N jolts awake at the sound of the trunk slamming shut. She takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She doesn't see Dean next to her, so she scans her surroundings through squinted eyes, hoping for a clue about her whereabouts. She finds a gas station receipt in her lap and flips it over to see the scribbles of Dean's handwriting telling her to 'stay put or else.' She rolls her eyes, crumpling it into a ball to throw it into the backseat.

She hears the voices of two familiar men, one of whom she hasn't heard in two years. Her heart races, and she fumbles with the seat belt, trying to unhook it with shaky hands. She jumps out of the car and turns in time to see Dean leaning on the back of the Impala.

"It's a law school interview," Sam says, "and it's my whole future on a plate," he glares.

"Law school?" Dean asks with a smirk. Y/N walks over to stand next to Dean. He shoots a quick, acknowledging glance her way. Sam's eyes shift between Dean and Y/N, softening when they land on Y/N, "so we got a deal or not?" he asks flatly.

Dean says nothing but lightly nods his head. Y/N runs towards Sam, nearly knocking him over with a hug.

"Y/N/N," he smiles. Pulling her even closer to him, he wraps his arms tightly around her back and kisses the top of her head. "I missed you," he whispers.

"I missed you, too," she says, her eyes welling up with tears. Sam looks at Dean just in time to see him press his lips together with an 'I told you so' in his eyes. Sam shakes his head, squinting at Dean just before he lets go of Y/N.

"Kay, I gotta put a bag together," he sighs, "I'll be right back."

He turns to head for the door, and Y/N doesn't take her eyes off him until he disappears into the building. She blinks her eyes and turns to face Dean. He pushes himself off the back of the car and silently heads for the driver seat.

Sam and Y/N sit in the car at a gas station while Dean heads for snacks. Sam opens his door but quickly looks over his shoulder to check on Y/N. This is when he notices the box of tapes sitting next to her. Intrigued, he shifts in the chair and asks her to hand them to him. Y/N is hesitant because it's hard to say how Dean would react, and she's always hated being in the middle of their fights but does so anyway. Sam rests his tongue between his lips as he takes the box from Y/N. Stretching his legs out of the car, he rests the box in his lap to filter through them.

"Hey," Dean says from behind the Impala, his mouth wrapped around a candy bar, "either of you want breakfast?" he asks, holding a soda and a bag of chips.

Y/N waits for Sam to answer first. "No, thanks," he says, glancing Dean's way momentarily.

"I do," Y/N smiles.

"So how'd you pay for that stuff? Three of you still running credit card scams?" Sam says, going back to looking through the cassettes.

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career," Dean says, putting the gas nozzle back into the pump.

Y/N chimes in, "Besides, all we do is apply," she shrugs, "it's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah? And what names did you write on the applications this time?" he asks, swinging his legs back inside the car and closing the door behind him.

"Uh, Burt Aframian," Y/N answers. Dean gets into the seat, handing Y/N the drink and chips. "Thank you," she chirps.

"And his son Hector," Dean adds, "scored two cards out of the deal."

"Sounds about right. I swear, man. You've gotta update your cassette tape collection."

Dean frowns, nearly offended. "Why?"

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes, and two," Sam holds one up, "Black Sabbath? Motorhead?" he says, dropping them to grab another, "Metallica?" he laughs, "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock," he says as Dean rips the Metallica tape from his hand with a glare.

"Well, house rules, Sammy." Dean pops the tape into the player with a tight smile, "driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cake-hole," he says, dropping the empty case into the box. "Isn't that right, Y/N?" he smirks into the rear-view mirror and smiles when he sees her roll her eyes.

"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old," Sam scolds, "it's Sam, okay?"

Turning the volume up, Dean cocks his head to the side, "sorry. I can't hear you. The music's too loud," he says with a slight chuckle.

Crashing a crime scene where police are still investigating is just another Saturday with Dean for Y/N, but seeing Sam's eyes widen at the box of Dean's fake IDs calls attention to how out of the norm this life is. Dean makes wise-ass comments to the cops, as usual, and Sam stomps on Dean's foot. Dean responds by smacking Sam's head as they bicker on the way back to the car, but Y/N can't help but grin from ear to ear.

Even when her brothers are arguing, Y/N couldn't possibly be happier. Today is her first hunt with both of her brothers and the first time in far too long since the three of them had been together for any reason.

They make their way to find Amy, who they learn is the girlfriend of the victim from listening to the cops on the bridge. They stop her while she's putting up missing posters, and after lying about being distant relatives of her boyfriend, they ask if she'd be willing to answer some questions to find him.

… "It's kind of this local legend," Amy's friend says after a few minutes of chatting. Massaging her thumb with her other hand, she continues, "This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago." Dean glances over at Sam and Y/N, who listen intently, "Well, supposedly, she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever."

At a local library, Dean searches the archive page for any murders on Centennial Highway with no results. Sam shoves Dean's chair, and when it rolls back, he scoots his chair to the computer to take over, earning him a slap from Dean. After replacing 'murder' with 'suicide,' a news article pops up.

"This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river," Sam reads.

"Does it say why she did it?" Y/N asks, scooting her chair closer to Sam to try and read the screen.

"Yeah," Sam says.

"What?" Dean says with raised eyebrows.

"An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently, her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing." Sam lets out a breath, "both die," he says in a whisper.

The air grows thick around them, and Y/N frowns. "That's terrible," she says, shaking her head.

"'Our babies were gone,'" Sam reads, "'and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch."

"Hmm," Dean points to the picture on the screen, "that bridge look familiar to you?"

They hit the bridge at nightfall. Crickets sing to water drumming against the rocks as it rushes under their feet. The clouds hang low in the sky, giving the air around them a haze.

"So," Dean says, peering over the bridge at the water, "this is where Constance took the swan dive," he says, leaning against the rail next to Y/N.

"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam asks in disbelief, looking over at Dean.

"Well, he's chasing the same story, and we're chasing him," Dean shrugs, turning to walk down the bridge.

Sam turns to follow. "Okay, so now what?" he says, forcing a breath through his nose. Y/N walks right next to him, still scared to let him out of her sight.

"Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while," Dean grumbles.

Sam stops walking, "Dean," he says, raising his hands before dropping them. "I told you. I've gotta be back by Monday."

"Monday," Dean says, pivoting to make grueling eye contact with Sam, but only turns his body enough that he's still facing the bridge's railing. "Right," he says, shaking a finger, "the interview." The bridge creaks under him as he turns the rest of the way.

"Yeah," Sam nods.

"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you?" Dean says, shifting his weight between his feet. "You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?" Dean asks, the animosity growing with each word.

Sam shrugs, "maybe. Why not?"

Dean's voice roughens, "Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know the things you've done?"

Sam takes a few threatening steps toward Dean, "No, and she's not ever going to know," he scowls.

"Well, that's healthy," Dean sneers. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later, you're going to have to face up to who you really are," he says, turning around to continue walking.

Sam huffs, "Who's that?"

"You're one of us," Dean shrugs, a hand gesturing towards Y/N.

"Hey! Leave me out of this," Y/N grumbles from ahead.

"No," Sam says, speed walking towards Dean, "I'm not like you," he says, turning around as he stops in front of Dean. "This is not going to be my life."

Dean keeps his jaw tight. "Well, you have a responsibility to..."

Y/N feels the tension rising and tries to plead with them to stop arguing, but they ignore her. "Guys!" she shouts again.

"To Dad? And his crusade?" Sam scoffs. "If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like! And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her," he shakes his head, "Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back."

Dean grips Sam's shirt and swings him around and against the bridge's railing with a clunk at Sam's weight against it.

Y/N flips around and runs to their side, "Dean, what are you doing? Are you crazy?" She panics. But Dean continues to ignore her as he glares at Sam.

After a long, breathless pause, Y/N shouts again, "Dean!"

The misty air is still between them, and even the wind seems too frightened to move. It's as if the world is put on pause.

Dean's eyebrows raise, and he keeps a firm grip on Sam's shirt. Under his breath, he says, "Don't talk about her like that."

He throws Sam's jacket from his hands and takes a few stabilizing steps backward in one movement. Y/N runs to check on Sam, who shakes her off with an "I'm fine" that sounds muffled compared to the pounding of her heart. A few tears escape her when she looks over at Dean walking away from them, but she doesn't realize she's crying until the taste of salt hits her lips.

Her eyes return to Sam, shaking her head in disgust that Dean would treat him like that. She knew it had been rough for Dean since Sam left for college, but hell, it's been hard on her, too, and she's not throwing anyone against the side of a bridge!

Dean halts, “Sam. Y/N!” he calls. Y/N turns with a full-body glare, but her eyes widen when she sees a woman in a long, white dress standing on the bridge's railing. The woman looks over at them, and Y/N can see the resemblance to the picture of Constance. The woman's hair and dress sway in the wind, and she keeps her eyes on them as she allows herself to drop from the ledge.

With a grunt, Sam rushes to the railing to look over it for her, Dean and Y/N not far behind him.

"Where'd she go?" Dean barks.

Breathless, Sam pushes out an "I don't know."

The roar of the Impala's engine turning on startles them, their bodies whipping around just in time to see the headlights flick on.

"What the-," Dean says.

"Who's driving your car?" Y/N asks.

Without taking his eyes off of the car, Dean pulls his keys from his pocket and jingles them, stealing Sam and Y/N's attention to them in unison. The engine revs, drawing back their wide eyes to the Impala. The tires squeal as the car begins to speed towards them.

"Y/N, go! Go!" Dean says with a hand on each of his siblings, spinning them around to run in the opposite direction. Dean presses his hand firmly on Y/N's back as they run, keeping himself between her and the car. They run as fast as they can until Dean can feel the Impala's breath on his ankles, and he guides them towards the bridge's railing.

Y/N's heart feels like a brick in her chest, weighing her down at the thought of jumping over. "I can't," she says in a breath, and all in a split second, she feels like her feet are cemented into the bridge's planks as Sam jumps over. "No!" she screams as Dean grips onto her arm, pulling them both over the bridge.

Sam hangs from the ledge of the bridge, shouting for Y/N as her screams are washed out with a big splash. "Y/N!" he calls again from the back of his throat, climbing up the bridge to get on his knees. He looks over the bridge, scanning for Y/N and Dean, calling out when he sees his brother, "Dean! You alright?"

"I'm super," Dean grumbles with an outstretched thumbs up. Lying on his back, half submerged in the muddy water.

"I can't see Y/N! Where's Y/N?" Sam panics, and when the words hit Dean's ears, he springs to his feet in a second. He whirls around in a circle as he searches for her.

"Y/N!" Dean shouts, wiping mud from his face. He paces around, "Y/N, where are you?" he yells, half-expecting her to pop out from behind a bush to scare him.

The world spins around him for a moment, utterly void of sound aside from a ringing in his ears as Dean tries to comprehend what is happening. He closes his eyes tight, shaking his head to clear away the fog that covers him. They open onto the water, catching the moon's glimmer reflecting off something. He runs towards it, hopping from rock to rock until he finds Y/N's broken locket stuck in algae. Dean picks it up with shaky hands, recalling how her face lit up when he first gave it to her. She'd be devastated to see its state now. Fear spills down him in an icy chill.

His head swivels around in search of her. Tears, that he refuses to let fall, poke at his eyes when he sees her lying face down in the water, a bloody rock next to her.

“Y/N!” He shouts, rushing to her. He kneels to pull her out of the water by her shoulder, turning her over so that her back rests against his knee. "Y/N!" he yells again, and when she doesn't respond, he grabs her by the waist and hoists her over his shoulder. He grunts, shifting his weight before jogging for the shore. "Sam! I got her!"

"Dean! Is she okay?" He calls out as he sprints down the side of the hill to catch up to them. The brothers reach the shore simultaneously, and Dean drops to his knees to gently set Y/N on the ground in front of him, Sam following suit.

"Come on, be okay, be okay, be okay, be okay," Dean pleads softly, placing two fingers on her neck. His heart is beating so hard that he can't tell if it's her pulse he's feeling or his own. "Sam, I can't feel anything," he says. Dropping an ear to her mouth, he adds, "And I don't think she's breathing."

"Call 911," Sam demands, ripping his jacket off to tie around Y/N's bleeding head wound. He quickly inspects the rest of her body for any bleeding before placing a hand on her chest. Looking up at Dean, who stands frozen, Sam puts his free hand on Dean's shoulder, "now, Dean!" he shouts, shoving him.

Sam tilts Y/N's head back, checking again for a pulse, a breath, a twitch, a shudder, anything that meant he wouldn't have to perform CPR on his baby sister. He places his hands on her chest, one over the other, pausing in case her heart miraculously started again, but all he feels under his palms is the stillness of Y/N's wet and cold chest.

Sam begins chest compressions, and the tears he'd been holding back rush out uncontrollably when he feels her ribs break under his palms. It makes him want to pull away, but he forces himself to continue. Dean watches in wide-eyed horror as he gives the 911 operator their location when asked, keeping his free hand pressed against his forehead.

"Anything?" he shakily shouts at Sam after what feels like hours. Sam ignores him, counting out loud until he hits thirty again. He stops compressions to blow a shuddering breath into Y/N's mouth, watching her chest rise and fall before delivering another. "Hello! Is anybody on the way? My sister is dying here!" Dean shouts into the phone, but all that meets his ears is static.

"Dean," Sam says with a heavy breath, beginning compressions again. "You gotta take over," he says between breaths.

Without question, Dean drops his phone to the ground as he falls to his knees next to her, "come on, Y/N," he pleads, ignoring the burning in his knees as he places his hands together on top of Sam's. Sam leaves his hands under Dean's for just one compression before pulling away.

"Okay, that's ten. You've got twenty more before breaths," Sam says before they count out loud together with every push into Y/N's chest.

Dean is growing tired by his third round of compressions, but the sirens in the distance electrify him, giving him the energy he needs to continue.

His face scrunches up as he musters the emotional and physical strength to keep going. Sam hurries to his feet, "don't stop, Dean, you're doing great!" he says with a palm at him.

"Don't stop," Dean repeats mindlessly, "don't stop."

Sprinting towards the paramedics, Sam waves his arms, shouting, "Down here! We're down here!" before he knows it, a group of professionals sprint down the hill, the gurney in tow. One takes a story from Sam as one tries to pull Dean away so the other two can take over caring for Y/N.

"No, I can't stop!" he cries, which grabs Sam's attention, "don't stop," he nearly whispers, hands pumping into Y/N's chest.

Sam rushes over and lowers himself to Dean's level. "Dean, let go. It's okay, they'll take it from here," he says, grabbing onto Dean's hands to pull him off of Y/N. They watch the paramedics in shock as they cut the shirt, bra, and pants off of Y/N, inspecting her skin. The first responders put what look like stickers with wires attached to them onto her chest and pull out the AED, telling everyone to stand clear before delivering a shock with a beep. Then, there was a pause and the silence that follows is deafening. Nothing. They check for a pulse and call clear again, shocking her. Then, nothing. Again.

In the hospital's hallway, Dean tries to tune out the surround sound of constant beeping. His elbows rest on his scraped and bloody knees with his head held in his hands. He rocks back and forth, battling with himself. He sheds tears both out of fear for his sister's well-being and of guilt that he did the very thing he promised her he wouldn't: put her in danger.

The clacking of Sam's shoes pulls Dean from his homemade mental Hell. Dean lifts his head, quickly wiping his eyes before grabbing the cafeteria coffee. Sam's familiar smell of motel soap and deodorant washes away the torturous smell of hand sanitizer.

"Thanks," Dean mutters, taking a sip of the coffee before placing it next to him on the cold tile floor.

Sam's eyes are red and puffy. Dean struggles to comprehend how Sam doesn't even try to hide the tears coming down. He often admires his brothers ability to wear his heart on his sleeve, though he'd never admit it. He wonders who he's being 'strong' for in this moment because it's certainly not himself.

Clearing his throat, Sam pulls his pants up slightly at the thighs before sitting on the bench next to Dean. He glances up at the ceiling momentarily, waiting for the announcement to end before asking, "Any news yet?"

Dean shakes his head. "No," he says in a raspy voice, forcing his eyes to look up and down the hall. "Excuse me," he says, standing to interrupt a nurse before she can enter a different room. "Would you mind helping us find whoever we need to talk to for an update on room 221?" he asks, gesturing to the door he hasn't been able to even look at since arriving.

Her eyes flutter to Sam, then the door, and back to Dean before she somberly nods. "Of course," she says, setting her pen back onto the clipboard as she turns to head in the direction she came.

Dean wants to return to his seat, but his body feels like an anchor. He sucks in a sharp breath. His shoulders tighten into his neck and with weak arms his hands fall to his hips. He hangs his head, clenching his teeth and pulling his face to suppress the tears. Sam jumps up to Stand with Dean, placing a hand tightly on his shoulder.

"She'll be alright," Sam says, not fully believing himself, "she's a Winchester; she has to be."

Dean quickly straightens himself out because damn it, he's the one that's supposed to be taking care of his younger siblings - not the other way around.

"Sam and Dean Winchester?" a deep voice echoes the hall and they whirl around to greet the doctor. Dean quickly slaps the tears from his face. "I'm Dr. Ferguson," he says, holding his arm up to shake hands with Sam, then Dean. "Let's go somewhere more private to talk."

"We're good here," Dean spits.

"Very well," the doctor sighs, looking down the hall behind him. He shuffles them closer to the wall and out of the traffic flow. "Well, while we were able to restart her heart, I'm afraid your sister has sustained a substantial injury to the head," he says, "the trauma caused the tissue around her brain to swell quite rapidly, and well, we have her on a ventilator, but," he lets out a breath, "we haven't seen as much progress as we were hoping for. She's technically in a coma right now, but we hope to see her come out of it in the coming weeks."

"Weeks?" Dean bellows.

"Yes, I'm afraid that's standard recovery time for an injury of this magnitude. Although, we'd be having an entirely different conversation if not for your quick thinking in the field," he says with a tight-lipped smile, eyes jumping from Dean's to Sam's, "it's a long road to recovery, but this is a good start."

"And what happens if she doesn't wake up?" Sam asks.

"We will do everything in our power to ensure that doesn't happen," the doctor nods.

"Thanks, doc," Sam croaks. "Can - can we see her?" he stutters.

"Of course," he says, pushing the door open with his fingertips, "go on in," he says.

Sam immediately notices Dean's hesitancy when they exchange a glance, so he nods before taking a few steps into the room. He covers his mouth to stifle a sob when he sees his little sister with a tube down her throat and one in her nose. When he's close enough, he reaches for her hand and sits in the chair beside her, startled by the sound of the door shutting. Dean slowly enters the room, but keeps his distance.

Dean feels like the air is void of oxygen and tells himself to pull it together enough to stand by her bed. "Hey kiddo," Dean says to Y/N with a shaky breath. "God, please be okay," he says, forcing a smile as he grips onto her hand.

The two sit with Y/N for days, only leaving for bathroom trips and snack runs, but when one goes, the other stays, and when one is napping, the other is awake. Dean has grown slightly more self-composed but is still anxious as they stay by her side, even when the nurses come to deliver medications, chart vitals, or empty her catheter.

"Hey, Dean," Sam says, clearing his throat.

"Yeah," he replies, keeping his eyes on Y/N.

Sam looks down into his hands, "about my interview-"

"Wait, what?" Dean says, cutting him off, "you're still gonna leave after all this?" he shouts through a clenched jaw. The chair scoots back in a screech as he quickly brings himself to his feet, "you don't wanna be here when she wakes up?" he asks, aggressively gesturing at Y/N.

"Dean, we don't even know if she'll wake up," Sam quivers.

"Man, you are a piece of work," Dean shouts, shaking his head.

"If you would've let me finish," Sam growls with narrow eyes, "I was going to say that I called earlier… to reschedule it," he sighs, looking back at Y/N, "they were very understanding of the situation."

"Oh," Dean says, turning on his heels to face away from Sam. He swipes a hand down his face, shaking his head when his eyes open to the white walls of the hospital's room. "Look, man, I'm sorry," he says, palms open and facing Sam. "This just has me on edge."

Taking a few steps towards him, Sam holds back the urge to get nasty with Dean, telling him he's not the only one feeling 'on edge' about their sister's condition. Instead, he raises his palms and softens his face, "Me too. Believe me."

By Thursday, Y/N had graduated from a ventilator to an oxygen mask. Though still needing the feeding tube, she's shown glimpses here and there of the Y/N they know and love, but overall, she struggles to remain conscious. The doctors are calling it a 'Minimally Conscious State' and "completely normal with this type of recovery."

On Saturday, Sam heads out for food from a local restaurant at Dean's request - something about them having good pies - but Sam has a sneaking suspicion that Dean needs some time alone with Y/N, and Sam could use the fresh air anyway.

Sitting in the chair beside her bed, Dean holds one of Y/N's hands in both of his, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the back of her hand. "I'm so sorry I failed you, Y/N," he cries. "I should have been protecting you," he whispers, letting the tears fall freely now, "but instead of doing that, I got you into this mess."

Looking up at Y/N's face, he swears he sees a tear slip down her cheek. Despite being convinced he's imagining it, he reflexively draws his hand to wipe her tear away, gasping when it comes back wet. His heart races as he gently stands to get beside her in the bed. "Shh," he coos, wrapping his arm around her.

His eyes fall shut, and he's transported back in time to the almost seven-month period where she would only fall asleep if Dean were right there in bed next to her. Through tears and voice cracks, he sings Hey Jude in a whisper, occasionally reaching over to wipe her tears away.

"I love you so much," he whispers. "I don't know how to live without you," he says, his tears turning into sobs. "Please wake up," he cries, arm wrapped tightly around her, "I promise I'll teach you how to drive if you just please wake up."

~~~~ If you liked my story, please remember to heart, comment or reblog. Or if you'd like, you can add yourself to a tag list here if you wish :) Thank you for reading!! :)

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#supernatural #dean winchester #spn #supernatural fandom #supernatural fan fic #little sister Winchester #angst #supernatural dean winchester #sister!winchester #3rd person pov

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threewaywithdelusion · 7 months

Text

Steve & Robin Bodyswap AU

I'm probably never going to finish this fic because I struggle with follow-through on long fics, but I enjoy this section so I thought I'd post it. At this point, it's September 1986 and Steve and Robin have been body-swapping for about a month (they can't control when it happens). Trigger warnings for homophobia and use of the word queer as a slur.

When the dizzy feeling passed, Robin was in Steve’s body, looking into his bathroom mirror. She was almost naked, only a towel around her waist, and it looked like Steve had been halfway through his hair routine. Robin sighed and picked up Steve’s hairspray and a comb, trying to finish creating Steve’s famous hairstyle. It was harder than Steve made it look, and when she finished it looked a little off-center somehow, like it had melted a little to the side. Was his hair longer than before? Whatever. This was as good as she could get it, so Steve would have to live with it.

The phone rang as Robin returned to the bedroom.

“Hello?” Robin answered.

“Hey,” Steve said. “Do you remember where you’re going tonight?”

“No,” Robin said. “I was planning on doing my English paper and then repainting my nails. I didn’t think we’d switch so late in the day.”

Steve sighed. “Me neither. That’s why I scheduled a date.”

“A date!” Robin shrieked.

She couldn’t go on a date. With a girl. As Steve Harrington.

“Yeah,” Steve said, sounding guilty. “Listen. Her name is Jenny and you’re supposed to pick her up at seven. Her address is written on a post-it on the kitchen table.”

“Steve,” Robin said. “I can’t go on this date.”

“Why not?”

“Why not? Because I’m not you! Because she wants to go on a date with Mr. Cool and not some band nerd who rambles when she’s nervous, like, I don’t know, when she’s in front of a pretty girl. I can’t go on my first date with a girl in your body! And I can’t drive! I’ll crash the car and kill us both.”

“You’re not so bad anymore,” Steve said. “At worst, you’ll get into a fender-bender.”

“And what about all the other reasons this is a terrible idea?” Robin demanded.

“Do you actually mind?” Steve asked, voice small. “Going on your first date with a girl in my body?”

She knew if she said yes, he would let her cancel. But there was something vulnerable in his voice and that made her stop and think.

Did she mind? For the past three years, Robin had been dreaming of going on a date with a girl. She’d imagined what it would be like to hold a door open for a girl, to hold hands under the table, to giggle at her jokes and maybe even get a kiss at the end of the night. And she’d imagined doing all that in her own body, with someone who was into her.

Part of her wanted that. Part of her was holding onto that dream of an ideal first date, the way some girls dreamed of a perfect first time.

But also, Robin had never gone on a date with a girl because she lived in Hawkins. She probably wouldn’t get to go on a date until after she graduated and moved away. Maybe this was her chance to go on a date with a girl. It might not fully count, but it would still be her on the date. Her and this girl. It could at least be good practice for her real first date.

“I don’t mind,” Robin said. “But Steve, I’m going to ruin this.”

“You’re not going to ruin anything,” Steve said. “Just be yourself. Or, well, maybe not yourself, cause you’re supposed to be me. But you’ll be fine!”

Robin groaned. “Steeeeve.”

“It’ll be fine!”

“You won’t be mad at me if I totally tank your date, right?”

“No,” Steve said. “You’re going on a date for me. That’s like, really nice, even if it goes wrong. No one’s ever done that for me before.”

Robin snorted. “Well I would hope not, Dingus. If you’d been bodyswapping with someone else and you hadn’t brought it up by now, I’d be pissed.”

Steve laughed. “Nah, no other bodyswappers. I still think it was the Russian drugs.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t the drugs!”

“It totally was!”

Robin eyed the clock on Steve’s bedside table. “I have to go if I’m going to make it to your date on time.” Especially if she drove at Robin-speed to pick the girl up.

“Okay,” Steve said. “Remember, her name is Jenny and her address is on the kitchen table. I’ll start the rough draft of your essay and then you can fix it tomorrow.”

Robin winced. Steve seemed to be enjoying school more now that he was in her body and his dyslexia didn’t get in the way, but he was still a terrible essay writer. There probably wouldn’t be much usable material in whatever he wrote, but she appreciated that he was trying to take the burden of half her schoolwork.

“Thanks,” she said. “Maybe just do an outline?”

Steve paused for a moment. When he spoke again, there was something off about his voice. “Yeah, okay.”

Robin wanted to push, but she really didn’t have time and her stomach was already starting to churn with nerves at the idea of going on a date. She said her goodbyes and hung up the phone before going to Steve’s closet. She didn’t know how to dress for a date, especially as a boy, but presumably Jenny wanted to go out with Steve, so Robin pulled out jeans and a polo. She winced as she looked in the mirror, King Steve staring back. Swoopy hair, pretentious polo, and handsome face – all looking horribly out of place with Robin in his body, shoulders slumping in uncomfortably.

Robin looked away.

She found the post-in on the kitchen and Steve’s keys on the hook by the front door before sliding nervously behind the wheel of Steve’s car. She took a deep breath and slid the key into the ignition, backing painfully slowly out of the driveway. Her nerves increased as she drove, building like a knot in her stomach. It was so odd how Steve’s body handled nervousness. In her own body, Robin would be bouncing, or pacing, or flapping her hands, anything to expel this nervous energy. When Robin was anxious, she needed to move, to babble, to get it all out.

Steve’s body held onto anxiety, using it to twist his insides tighter and tighter. His shoulders ached from the tension he held and his heart started pounding and the idea of moving didn’t feel helpful, not to the body Robin was in.

But she wanted to move, and the mixed signals just added to the confused anxiety in her body.

When she arrived at Jenny’s house, she had to knock at the door. Luckily, a girl opened it, dressed nicely and looking the right age to be Steve’s date.

This was confirmed when the girl smiled and said, “Hi, Steve.”

“Hi,” Robin said. Way to go Steve! Jenny was pretty, long blonde curls and big blue eyes. She was wearing a sundress with a square neckline that drew attention to the line of her collarbones, and a short skirt that revealed long, smooth legs, tan from the summer sun. Her hands, fiddling with the hem of her dress, were decorated by thin gold rings on each finger.

“Like what you see?”

Robin flinched before she registered Jenny’s teasing tone.

Jenny was flirting. She thought she was being eyed by Steve Harrington and she liked it, so she was teasing him for staring.

But it wasn’t Steve. It was Robin, admiring a pretty girl. Robin, who lived in fear of being caught staring and being chased out of town by an angry mob with pitchforks and crosses and Save the Children posters.

Robin managed a shaky smile for Jenny. “You look really pretty.”

Jenny looked pleased. She called a goodbye into the house and followed Robin to the car. Robin took a deep breath as she slid behind the wheel again.

“How was your day?” Jenny asked.

“Good,” Robin said. She’d gone to work this morning as Steve, then finished the afternoon at school as herself. She’d gone to band practice, where they had started a new song. But that wasn’t what Steve had done with his day. Or, well, it wouldn’t have been if they weren’t swapping bodies. Steve had graduated. “I had work.”

“What made you want to work at Family Video?” Jenny asked.

Robin couldn’t answer for a moment, focused on making a left turn. Then there was a pothole to swerve and a stop sign to navigate. By the time Robin thought of Jenny’s question again, the silence was awkward and heavy.

“Uh, movies?” Robin said. “Yeah, I, uh, like movies. Big movie fan.”

She wished she could see Jenny’s expression, but Robin had to watch the road.

“Okay,” Jenny said slowly, sounding skeptical. “What movies do you like?”

“Grease,” Robin said, naming one of Steve’s favorites. “

“Oh I love Grease!” Jenny said. “It’s so romantic, isn’t it?”

Robin hated Grease. She thought it was patriarchal and ridiculous and taught women that they should change to win the love of men who treated them badly. Sure, Sandy looked hot at the end, but it came at the cost of her personality and autonomy and self-expression. Robin hated the idea that a girl was supposed to conform to what a guy wanted of her. Why couldn’t Danny be the one to change?

“Yeah, it’s romantic,” Robin said.

They hit a curb as she took a turn and Jenny let out a little yelp. Robin refocused on the road.

“Sorry,” she said. “I, uh, ran out of contacts? And lost my glasses? I don’t think I can talk and drive right now.”

“Oh,” Jenny said, sounding nervous and unimpressed. That was fair. Robin wouldn’t like it if the guy driving her around said he couldn’t see shit. “Yeah, sure.”

They drove in silence until they got to the diner.

[Jenny asks about basketball and robin fumbles her way through answers]

[They kiss goodnight on Jenny’s doorstep]

As soon as Jenny entered her house, Robin felt her face crumple. She retreated to the car and drove back to Steve’s house, shaking a little. She wanted to cry, but Steve’s body wouldn’t. There was a lump in her throat and an ache in her chest, but her eyes were dry.

She hated this. She hated that the date had gone so badly. She hated that her first kiss had been stolen. That it hadn’t been her Jenny had wanted to kiss and it hadn’t been her lips that had been kissed. She hated that Steve had sent her on this date. She hated that she’d agreed. She hated Steve’s stupid body, which wasn’t hers and was foreign and masculine and wouldn’t even fucking cry when she wanted it to.

Robin parked and stormed into Steve’s house. She slammed the door behind her, which felt good, so she did it a few more times. Slam. Slam. Slam. When she felt out of breath, she collapsed against the entryway wall.

Steve’s reflection stared back at her from the mirror above the key hooks.

She couldn’t take it. She ran up the stairs, bypassing Steve’s bedroom and entering his parents’ room. She’d never been in here before because Steve acted like it was forbidden, but she didn’t care right now. She found Mrs. Harrington’s vanity and started ripping the drawers open, upending makeup and hair supplies until she found several bottles of nail polish.

They were all boring pinks and reds, exactly what a housewife would wear, but Robin grabbed the darkest red and took it downstairs. She grabbed a David Bowie record and blasted it, propping her hands on her thighs and starting to paint her nails. Her hands were shaking, but she stubbornly pushed through, trying to paint a neat maroon coat onto Steve’s nails.

She stopped and stared after she finished the first hand.

It was Steve’s hand still, broad and square-fingered, but it felt better with the nail polish. A bit more feminine.

Robin had spent so long in her own body trying to express herself without femininity. She didn’t like dresses or skirts or long hair. Her makeup was smudgy and her jewelry chunky and she liked to look good but not in a girly-girl way.

In Steve’s body though, she felt like she had to compensate for its masculinity. She was still a girl, even if she wasn’t a girly one, and seeing a man staring back at her in the mirror was uncomfortable. She wanted to put Steve’s body in a dress and grow out his hair and do his makeup. But that all felt like a violation of Steve’s will for what he wanted to do with his body. She was just a guest here – she couldn’t change anything he couldn’t quickly change back. Even if she spent a solid half of her waking hours in this body.

Steve’s hand looked good in maroon nail polish. It felt a bit more like hers.

***

Steve woke up in his own body, which was rare these days.

He was in his bed and he had a headache, which wasn’t that unusual. But it wasn’t a spike of pain in his skull, no oncoming migraine. This felt like a headache from crying.

Steve went to the bathroom mirror and squinted at his reflection. Maybe Robin had a point and Steve should get glasses. His bad eyesight was much more noticeable and annoying when he spent half his time looking at the world through Robin’s 20/20 eyes.

With just a little squinting though, Steve found that he was right; his eyes were red. Robin had been crying.

Steve’s heart sank. He’d thought Robin would call after the date yesterday, but he hadn’t heard from her. He hadn’t heard from her, and she had cried herself to sleep. What had happened?

He’d been kind of happy when Robin hadn’t called, which he felt bad about. But she hadn’t wanted him to write a draft of her paper, just an outline. It was stupid to be upset about that. But for the first time in his life, Steve was following what was happening in Robin’s English and history classes. They were way more interesting when he could read without getting frustrated, and he’d wanted to write the paper to help Robin but also to see what he could do when he actually understood the book.

But Robin didn’t think he was smart enough to write her essay.

Which was fine, obviously, Steve knew that Robin was way smarter than him. He shouldn’t be upset just because Robin knew that too.

It was fine. The problem was that something had made Robin cry.

He was picking her up for school, so he would ask on the drive.

Steve started getting ready, brushing his teeth and doing his hair. There was too much hairspray in it, the way there usually was when Robin had been the last one to style it, so he brushed it through a bit extra to try to get some of the stiffness out.

There was also nail polish on his fingers.

Steve stopped for a long moment to stare. The nail polish was pretty, a dark red color and super smooth. Steve had tried to paint Robin’s nails last night and he’d done a much worse job, getting nail polish all over her skin and accidentally making it lumpy and full of bubbles.

But on Steve’s hands, the polish was neat and smooth and elegant. Steve had never had his nails painted before, but it was pretty. He liked it.

Maybe Steve shouldn’t have painted Robin’s nails. He’d been under the impression that Robin hated the process of painting her nails – always complaining about having to sit still while they dried. But if she liked it enough to do it in Steve’s body, maybe he should have let her paint her own.

Steve grabbed his work vest and a granola bar and drove to Robin’s house. She came out the door in a hurry, jacket half-on, shouting something back at her parents. But she was quiet as she got in the car. She barely said hello before busying herself looking through Steve’s tapes.

Steve frowned. “Robin? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Robin said. “I’m fine. Just tired, you know?”

Steve had gone to bed early last night, which meant Robin’s body shouldn’t be tired. He didn’t say that.

“How did the date go?”

Robin froze, only for a second, but it was noticeable given how she was always in motion. “It was okay. She said you should call her.”

“That sounds pretty good,” Steve said tentatively.

“Yeah,” Robin said. She put in a tape and turned the volume up.

Dread started to grow in Steve’s stomach. He waited until he’d pulled into Dustin’s driveway and honked to turn down the music. Dustin always took a minute to come out.

“Did I overstep?” Steve asked quietly.

“What do you mean?” Robin asked. She was fiddling with her bracelets, and Steve suddenly realized she hadn’t even looked at him since getting in the car.

“When I asked you to go on the date for me. Was that too much?”

Robin still didn’t look at him. “Steve-”

“Hey!” Dustin said loudly, climbing into the backseat. “You won’t believe what happened in our campaign last night. So we were in this forest, right, and then Eddie had this really suspicious looking dwarf show up-”

Dustin kept babbling about his campaign all the way to the school and Steve tried to react in the appropriate places. He had no idea what was happening in the story because Dustin used way too many words that Steve was pretty sure didn’t exist. But he’d already hurt Robin somehow; he didn’t want to hurt Dustin as well.

Steve dropped them both at school — Robin leaving with a little “bye” and Dustin still rambling on his way out of the car — and went to work. He was the only one working until Robin got on in the afternoon, so it was pretty boring. A few housewives came in, but mostly Steve rewound and reshelved tapes. He contemplated actually cleaning, but decided he wasn’t bored enough to do that and ended up tapping his fingers idly on the counter as he half-paid attention to the children’s movie that was playing on the tv.

Today, of all days, Steve didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts.

What had gone so wrong? He’d asked Robin if she was okay with going on the date and she had said yes. But she hadn’t called and she couldn’t even look at him this morning. That had never happened before. They had bickered back when they’d been getting to know each other at Scoops Ahoy, but they’d never had a real fight.

All Steve could think of was Nancy. Nancy, pulling away because Steve couldn’t be what she needed. Nancy, who Steve had hurt without even realizing it. Nancy, who Steve had loved and who he had lost because he was bullshit.

He couldn’t be bullshit with Robin. He’d thought he was safe from ruining this because they were friends and they’d felt mind-melded even before the body swapping had started.

But Steve had clearly done something wrong. He had to figure out what it was and fix it before he lost Robin.

A man came in, dressed in a suit, clearly on his lunch break. Steve tracked him as he wandered the shelves, but the man didn’t seem to need any help, quickly finding a movie and bringing it up to the counter.

It was [romance movie].

“It’s for my wife,” the man said, as if he thought Steve was judging him.

“That’s romantic,” Steve said. “Can I get your name?”

“Johnny Richards,” the man said. “My wife’s upset I had to work late the past month. It’s not my fault! I work for the mayor’s office and we’re still dealing with the fallout of that fucking mall fire.”

Steve’s customer service smile turned even more frozen. He mechanically pulled up the man’s profile. Johnny Richards’ account had a few action movies, some chick flicks, and a lot of pornography.

Steve tried to change the topic to Johnny’s wife again. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate a movie date night. This one’s a good choice.”

He flashed Johnny Richards another customer service smile as he scanned the movie, but Johnny wasn’t looking at his face. He was watching Steve’s hands.

“That’ll be three dollars,” Steve said.

Johnny’s eyes flashed to his, lips curled back in a sneer. “You a queer?”

Steve blinked in confusion. “What?”

“You. A. Queer?” Johnny repeated.

Steve’s muscles locked at the word and at the tone the man was using. He automatically looked for Robin, trying to make sure he was between her and the threat, before he remembered that she was at school.

“No?” Steve said. He didn’t sound confident, which he knew was a mistake, but he was really confused.

“No?” The man mocked. “Then why are you painting your nails like one?”

Oh. Steve glanced down at his hands, at the red color on his nails. He’d kept it on when he’d left the house because he liked it and because Robin had been the one to paint them, but he’d been too preoccupied to think his decision through.

He should have known better than to wear nail polish in Hawkins, Indiana.

“I didn’t paint them,” Steve said. “My friend did. She, um, wanted to practice.”

Johnny gave Steve a disdainful look. “Acting like a pussy isn’t going to get you any girls. If she’s painting your nails, you’re stuck in the friend zone — you don’t have to give her your dignity as well. Have some self-respect and stop looking like a goddamn queer.”

“I’m not a queer,” Steve protested.

“Just some friendly advice,” Johnny said. “Better you hear it from me, than someone who wouldn’t be so nice.”

It sounded so much like something Steve’s father would say that he gave an automatic, “Yes, sir.”

Johnny Richards nodded, like that was the reaction he’d been hoping for. He slapped three dollars on the counter, far from Steve’s hand as if he didn’t want to touch him, then grabbed the tape and walked out.

Steve felt hot all over, shame and embarrassment and something else filling him. He felt dirty, like he shouldn’t have liked having his nails done.

He was a boy. He wasn’t supposed to like girly things. Even if he was a girl half the time, when he was in Robin’s body and she was in his.

He didn’t mind being in Robin’s body. He didn’t mind her longer hair, or her painted nails, or her makeup, even when it was on him. He liked wearing her clothes, even though most of it wasn’t his style and he wished he could get some nice blouses and skirts.

But that was all when he was in Robin’s body. He was allowed to like those things when he was a girl. He had been stupid to think he could get away with painted nails as a boy.

Steve was still shaking. He felt awful, like he’d been through something worse than a few mean comments from a stranger. The kind of comments he himself had made in the past.

If this was how everyone he had bullied had felt, maybe he deserved to feel this way.

Steve kept his fingers curled as he helped the next few customers, hiding his nails from sight.

By the time Robin showed up for her afternoon shift, Steve was able to act sufficiently normal. Robin was still half-avoiding him, but it was Friday afternoon and they were ridiculously busy trying to rent out movies for the weekend.

Steve waited until they were alone in the store, closing up, to say “Can you please come over? I want to talk.”

“Okay,” Robin said to the ground. But she got in the car with him and let him drive her to his house.

They took their shoes off by the entryway and made their way to the kitchen, moving seamlessly to make dinner. They were both comfortable moving around Steve’s kitchen as if they lived there, because they both lived there.

Steve almost added peas to his own plate before he remembered that he hated peas. They only tasted good when he was Robin.

When they were both picking at their reheated lasagne, Steve said, “I’m sorry.”

Robin’s head jerked up, a bewildered look on her face.

“I’m sorry,” Steve repeated. He hadn’t said those words much the first sixteen years of his life. But he’d say them a million times now if that’s what it took to get Robin to forgive him.

“For what?” Robin asked.

Was this a test? Steve’s mother did that sometimes, made him explain what he was apologizing for so she could scoff in his face and tell him that wasn’t why she was mad and to try again.

“For asking you to go on that date for me?” Steve guessed.

Robin didn’t look happy with that answer.

“I don’t know,” Steve quickly admitted. Sometimes it was better to just get it over with. She could explain how he’d fucked up and then she could yell and then he could apologize and hopefully they would be okay. “I’m sorry for being so stupid that I don’t know what I did, I guess. But I didn’t mean you make you mad. Or sad? And I’m really sorry.”

“I’m not mad at you,” Robin said, sounding angry.

Steve hesitated. This felt like a bad idea, but “You seem mad.”

“I am, but not at you.”

“Then why haven’t you looked at me all day?”

Robin growled and got to her feet, starting to pace. “It’s complicated, okay? I’m mad at your stupid body, and you’re in it right now. And I’m mad at this whole situation. It fucking sucks, okay?”

Steve didn’t know how to fix the situation. They had hit a dead end with everything they had tried, and unless El got her powers back, their only possible next step was to trust the government scientists. Call Steve crazy, but even before the Russians he hadn’t trusted government scientists, especially ones who had experimented on a little girl for her powers.

So he focused on the part he maybe could fix. “Why are you mad at my body?”

Robin spun on her heel, still pacing, arm flying as she tried to explain. “It just feels all… off. Wrong. Like, I’m a girl and I hate being trapped in a boy’s body. I hate being perceived as a man. Don’t you feel the same when you’re in my body? Like it’s wrong being a girl?”

No, Steve didn’t. But that probably wasn’t helpful to say right now. And it was weird. Shameful.

If Robin didn’t like boy stuff when she was in Steve’s body, why did he like girl stuff when he was in hers?

“I guess I didn’t think about it so much,” Steve lied.

“It’s just… ugh! It makes my skin crawl,” Robin said. “And I hate that we switch so much and we can’t control it. I feel like I’m missing my life. I missed my first day of senior year. I barely ever see my parents anymore, and I miss them. They’re threatening to kick me out of band because I’ve missed so many rehearsals, but you can’t play the trumpet so I don’t know what else we’re supposed to do. And I hate never being able to make plans with anyone but the kids because no one else knows about the body-swapping and I can’t ever guarantee I’m going to be in my own body.”

That was a lot. Steve had no idea how to fix any of that. He hadn’t really been bothered by the switching — his only friends all knew about the Upside Down, so if he showed up in Robin’s body to plans he’d made as Steve, no one batted an eye.

But Robin was different. Robin had a life outside of him and the kids. She had friends and school and band and parents who loved her.

Of course she would feel like she was missing out on her life.

“And!” Robin continued, still pacing. “I fucking hated that date. I didn’t know how to drive and I didn’t know what to say. She kept expecting me to be you, and she kept looking all awkward and put-off whenever I answered something like me. And I don’t know a thing about basketball and I hate Grease!”

“Why would you hate-”

“And she kissed me,” Robin said.

Steve went quiet.

There were tears in Robin’s eyes.

“It was the end of the date and she just kissed me, even though the date sucked. Even though she hated every part of me that was actually me. And I’ve never kissed anyone before. It was my first kiss, and it was with a girl, but I was a boy and I was you and she didn’t even like me.”

Robin started crying.

Steve didn’t know what else to do, so he pulled her into a hug and let her sob into his shoulder.

“I never thought I’d get to kiss a girl,” Robin said hoarsely. “Or at least not while I was in Hawkins. And then I did and it was all wrong.”

There was so much pain in her voice and it was all Steve’s fault. He never should have asked her to go on that stupid date. He could have just rescheduled instead of putting her in that position.

She’d said she wasn’t mad at him, but maybe she had just been lying to spare Steve’s feelings. This was all his fault.

He would have to find a way to fix it. He wasn’t sure how yet, but he would do it.

Eventually, Robin stopped crying. She pulled out of Steve’s hug, grabbing his hands instead and swinging them between them, looking down so she wouldn’t have to meet his eyes.

Then she froze, lifting Steve’s hands to her face. Steve tensed for a moment, thinking of the man from Family Video, before he remembered that this was Robin. She wasn’t going to judge him. She was the one who’d painted his nails in the first place.

“You kept it on,” Robin said.

“Yeah,” Steve said.

“You didn’t have to,” Robin said. “Why would you do that?”

Steve shrugged.

“You can take it off, if you want,” Robin said. “I didn’t mean to stick you with it after we switched back. I just needed to do something to make your body feel more like me.”

Because Robin hated being in Steve’s body. He understood that much, at least. His body came with headaches and a deaf ear and blurry eyesight and dyslexia. And maleness, which Steve hadn’t realized would be strange for Robin.

“I can keep it on,” Steve said. “If it makes you more comfortable when we switch.”

Robin bit her lip, looking hesitant. “It’s still your body, Steve. I don’t want to make it comfortable for me by making it uncomfortable for you.”

Steve was all twisted up inside. He didn’t know how he felt about the nail polish. “I don’t mind it. I can keep it on.”

Robin still hesitated. “People might be… mean. If you keep it on.”

Steve felt hot all over again. Off-balance.

But what could he say? He couldn’t complain to Robin of all people that he’d gotten called a queer today at work. He would sound like a whiny, self-centered dick. He knew Robin had gotten called slurs before. And it was worse, because for her they were actually true.

He was just being a baby about this. He had to toughen up and get over it.

“Please,” he said forcing a smile. “Nobody’s going to say anything to Steve Harrington.”

Robin scanned his face, like she was checking if he was sure, and he gave her his best over-confident smirk, a look he hadn’t really pulled out since the King Steve days.

Maybe it was because he’d never used this expression on Robin before, but she seemed to believe it. She smiled back at him and he could see that it was real.

“Thanks, Steve,” she said. “We should get more bottles though. I’m not sure maroon is really your color.”

Steve pretended to be offended. “But I want to match my baby.”

“Your baby?” Robin asked, eyebrows up.

“My car,” Steve said.

Robin moaned. “Ugh. It’s bad enough you have a picture of a car hanging in your room. You are not allowed to start calling your car your baby, Steve. I will disown you.”

“You can’t disown me! You literally are me half the time.”

“I can and will disown you,” Robin countered. “I’ll be disowning you as a person, not your body, so I’ll just ignore you. Unless you act normal about cars. No calling them baby, or calling yourself their daddy. That might have been the most traumatizing part of Starcourt, really.”

“That was the most traumatizing part of Starcourt,” Steve repeated incredulously, putting his hands on his hips.

“Yep,” Robin said, nodding firmly. “That was the most traumatizing part.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’ll think about acting normal. You staying over?”

“I guess I should, at this point,” Robin said. “Let me just call my parents.”

Steve caught Robin’s arm as she moved to the phone. “You don’t have to stay. If you miss your parents and you want to see them, you should go home.”

It hurt to say. Steve didn’t want Robin to go. He didn’t want to be alone in his house after being alone at the store all day.

Maybe Robin could see that, because her expression softened. “No,” she said. “I’ll stay.”

They fell asleep together, Steve finding it much easier to keep the nightmares at bay when he knew Robin was by his side, safe from Russians and monsters.

He woke up in Robin’s body, wrapped in his own arms.

***

Steve and Robin spent the weekend together.

Robin felt terrible about making Steve feel bad. She hadn’t meant to take her anger out on him — she was mad at him, but he hadn’t done anything wrong. He never would have pushed her to go on the stupid date if she’d said no and it wasn’t his fault they were swapping bodies.

But it was Robin’s fault that Steve had had that look on his face — fearful and desperate and apologetic, like he was afraid that he had irreparably damaged their friendship.

Sometimes Robin forgot that Steve was as desperate to keep her as she was to keep him. Sometimes a mean little voice in her brain whispered that he was Steve Harrington, that he’d been cool and popular and he had known how to get people to like him. That even now, he was worshipped by a pack of feral children and he was generous and selfless and funny and interesting and that anyone would be lucky to be his friend. He didn’t have to settle for Robin, who couldn’t read social cues and rambled way too much and had never had a real friend before Steve.

She hated that voice in her head. It was a liar and it was mean to both him and her. Steve might have been popular, but he had never had a close friend before Robin (or maybe Dustin) either. He might be adored by his kids, but he had no friends his own age. And he was incredible in a million ways, but he also thought Robin was incredible and he told her all the time, calling her funny and brave and smart like he didn’t care that she was a socially inept nerd.

She hadn’t meant to hurt him. She hadn’t realized that quietly seething — at him, a little, but also at the injustice of this whole situation — would hurt him more than outright telling him she was upset.

She should have known better. She knew what had happened in his relationship with Nancy, and while she was nothing like Nancy Wheeler and she definitely wasn’t dating Steve, she knew Steve had a fear of being unintentionally terrible to the people he loved.

He had never been terrible to her, not even once, not even when she’d rejected him or come out to him or made him suffer through period cramps in her body.

But Robin had been terrible to Steve, on purpose at first when she’d been forced to work with King Steve at Scoops Ahoy and then unintentionally a few times, like yesterday, when she hadn’t taken enough care with Steve’s emotions.

Robin decided to make it up to him. On Saturday morning they cooked breakfast together, making blueberry pancakes and coffee. Then Robin helped Steve re-do the nails he’d painted on her body, showing him how to get the air bubbles out and how to paint it in coats so it could dry in between. Steve watched attentively and held Robin’s hands up proudly when he was done.

They hung out with the gremlins Saturday afternoon. Back in their own bodies, Steve taught Lucas how to shoot hoops while Robin played a vicious game of Monopoly against Dustin and Mike.

“How come your nails are red?” Dustin asked Steve when Steve and Lucas came in from the driveway, sweaty and panting.

“I painted them,” Robin said. Mike landed on Park Place and Robin grinned as she charged him an exorbitant amount of money. Capitalism was so fun when it was fictional and she was winning.

“Isn’t that weird though?” Mike asked. “Having your nails painted?”

Steve tensed. Robin had been waiting for the moment he gave up on the painted nails as too feminine or too gay, and apparently Mike’s question was that moment. Robin had honestly thought he would last until at least Monday.

“Munson has his nails painted,” Steve said cattily, which wasn’t what Robin had expected at all.

Mike rolled his eyes. “Yeah, cause it’s metal. You’re too preppy to pull off painted nails.”

Steve looked a little dumbfounded and Robin hid a grin. Apparently the kids’ problem wasn’t with a man having his nails painted, it was with Steve doing it.

“Steve’s metal,” Lucas said.

Mike scoffed. “How?”

“He has a bat full of nails,” Lucas said reasonably. “That’s pretty metal.”

“See, Wheeler?” Steve boasted. “I’m metal enough to paint my nails.”

Mike scowled. “I’m more metal than you are.”

They all looked at Mike, scrawny as a beanpole and dressed in horrifically mismatched clothing. Robin felt a bit blinded by the bright colors he was wearing.

Dustin was the first one to start laughing, but they all eventually joined in.

Mike grumbled, crossing his arms defensively. “Will would’ve agreed with me.”

“You mean he would have lied to spare your feelings,” Dustin teased.

Mike yelped and launched a pillow at Dustin, who threw one back, and then they were all engaged in a pillow fight with Steve’s mom’s fancy throw pillows. Robin used to opportunity to whack at Mike and Dustin, who were objectively the most annoying of the children. She was about to get Dustin from behind when all of a sudden she was looming over Lucas, all the way across the room.

Robin lost her balance and fell, straight onto Lucas, who let out a high-pitched yelp as her elbows and knees hit him.

“Sorry,” Robin gasped, rolling off him. “I didn’t know Steve was doing fucking acrobatics during a pillow fight.”

Lucas’s head jerked sharply. “Woah. Robin?”

Robin nodded.

Lucas smiled and lifted a pillow, smacking it across Robin’s face. As Robin sputtered, he said “that’s for using illegal weapons in a pillow fight. No elbows!”

“Oh, you’re on, Sinclair.”

As Robin tried to murder Lucas with a pillow, she thought that this was what she was missing in the rest of her life; people who watched her switch bodies with Steve and then just kept going like it was normal. She hated dropping into her body in the middle of a customer interaction at Family Video, when the customer would get mad at having to repeat the name of the movie they were looking for. She hated dropping into her body mid-conversation with Kate, unsure what the hell they were talking about and getting weird looks for babbling more off-topic than usual. She hated her inability to know where she was going to be at any given minute, or who she was going to be.

But with Steve’s kids, who’d been to hell and back and didn’t think a bit of body-swapping was the weirdest thing they’d ever seen, she almost felt normal.

“Let’s get Steve,” Robin whispered to Lucas. They crept up behind Steve — which was so weird, watching the back of her own head as Steve used her body to fight off Dustin and Mike — and jumped at him, whacking him with pillows.

Steve shrieked — high-pitched with Robin’s vocal cords — and spun, narrowing his eyes at Robin in his body.

“Oh, it’s on, Buckley.”

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #Steve harrington #robin buckley #stobin #mia writes fanfic #Stobin bodyswap AU

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legitalicat · 1 month

Text

Out of Time

Chapter 7 - "Letters of Life and Love"

AN: Sorry for the long wait, lots of stuff going on in the personal. Also I may update the picture now that we have a new hairstyle for Jace lolol

If you love this header go check out zaldritzosrose for more amazing work! She is tagged on the series masterlist and on my welcome post!

Find the series masterlist here!

Summary: Tales of the past can help shape the future.

TW: blatant talks of past self harm, canon typical incest, Jace being tooth rotteningly sweet, talks of basically everyone being in love with everyone

Relationships: Jacaerys Velaryon x Twin!Reader, talks of just about every other ship imaginable in this story

Word Count: 3.8k

Aemond did not take it any further as we flew on Vhaela. He told me it was so that I could focus on flying, since it had been so long. Whether that was the truth, I wasn’t sure but I wasn’t entirely convinced. Yet, I didn’t particularly care.

Soaring through the skies on Vhaela’s back was perfect. The chill in the air stung against the skin of my face. The supple leather of the saddle she wore rubbed against my inner thighs. We passed birds who moved out of the way in perfect time with our approach. Today was the day I was meant to take to the skies.

I truly believed that the gods, whether they be the old or the new, made certain moments perfect. There had just been too many moments in my life that were so good there were no other explanations. This flight on Vhaela, the first time I flew on her, the first time I slept with Aemond, and the night I lost my maidenhead to Jace. How could I expect that much good to come from anything but divine intervention?

Aemond accompanied me the rest of the week so that I may fly, though he did choose to fly on Vhagar. We never went far, never past Felwood to the south or Duskendale to the north. Though in my bones I longed for more. I don’t imagine I would ever fly enough to be satisfied. In the sky I was free. Free from obligation and duty, free from the pains of my soul.

Free from the wretchedness that is Mother preparing me for this feast.

It felt as though I should’ve never agreed to it to begin with. I didn’t want every Lord in the seven kingdoms ogling me once again. Especially if word got out that my betrothal to Jace was no longer official. Men would see me as an opportunity to get close to the throne, maybe even have their children sit it one day. The thought disgusted me.

“Daemon, Rhaena, and Baela have returned from Driftmark. Your sisters are very anxious to see you,” Mother told me as she braided my hair. We were in her chambers, the door being propped open once we were dressed to allow a breeze. Today was warmer than usual.

I watched her reflection in the mirror as she moved. Sometimes I wondered if she thought of me as a doll. That is not to say anything against her parenting or the care she has given me, but it does cross my mind. She took every opportunity to dress me and fix my hair until I was perfect. Or as perfect as I could be.

“Step sisters,” I corrected her.

Rhaena and Baela may view my brothers as theirs but they made sure that I understood I was not their sister. Mother and Daemon always assumed part of it was Baela having a crush on Jace and Rhaena’s loyalty to her twin. I tried to offer to her that she could marry him and become Queen one day, begging with her that I would give anything to be their sister. But it was never about Jace.

Rhaena had been too kind and timid to say it to my face but Baela never had any problems with such. It was all about Vhagar and the role I played in Aemond claiming her. They claimed I showed no loyalty. That we were cousins and I should’ve convinced Aemond to allow Rhaena the chance to claim her first. They never listened to me when I told them he would’ve done it whether I was there or not. And they also never took into account I did not know them at that point. Yes, we were cousins, but they grew up far from King’s Landing. I grew up with Aemond at my side. Was he not owed my loyalty more?

“You are all women grown now,” she told me. “Surely you can move past this.”

“Mother I love the way you love your children, Baela and Rhaena included, but you need to realize a lot of us are far more capable than you think,” I said so firmly her hands took pause. “They are not the victims in anything, not more than I or Aemond. Yes, Rhaena did not have a dragon as a child but neither did Aemond until he claim Vhagar, and I waited longer. Yes, Baela and Rhaena lost their mother as children, but the four of us lost both men who could count as our father and I wasn’t even allowed to mourn. Rhaena and Baela started the fight that night on Driftmark because of their entitlement and Aemond lost his eye. The three of us did not get along during our girlhoods but not because of anything that I could help.”

“Darling,” she whispered. Her hands continued their motions, finishing the intricate braid.

“I offered Baela to take my place, did she ever tell you that? I thought if it was about Jace and her then I could deal with not marrying him so I could have sisters. It was never about that, it was about me telling the truth of Aemond losing his eye,” I told her. Tears started stinging my eyes as I spoke about things I swore I would never admit bothered me.

My entire life I always felt I had to be perfect. The perfect princess who would be the perfect queen. This kept me from having many emotional outbursts. The closest I ever got to crying in front of others was when tears forced themselves into existence as they did now. My pain was my own and I did not need others to experience it.

Jace always called it unhealthy. He said one day I would explode with the years of feelings I kept inside. I had always thought he was full of shit until I began to realize that physically harming myself made the pain in my chest ease. When I made a fist so tightly that my fingernails became so deeply embedded in my palms I started to draw blood, I was concerned at first. Until I realized I felt better. I referred to it as my pressure relief.

It became a growing concern. Jace caught me taking a knife to my thigh once when he had come to question why I was avoiding him. He was appalled at what I was doing. I tried to explain it was nothing bad, that I was merely caring for myself. He did not see it that way. He held me that night late into the night.

That was the night I gave him my maidenhead. I wasn’t sure you could fix someone by loving them hard enough. But gods, that night he tried. Looking back, it was awkward and clumsy, neither of us really knowing what to do. We were fifteen, nowhere near marriage, and Jace had always said I would be his first, so neither of us had any experience or had been taught anything. Though, I would not change anything about it. Thinking about it made me miss him more than I had the entirety of these last few weeks.

“You always stand up for every other child yet you do not stand up for the ones who need it most. I do not know if it is because you think I am strong enough to handle it, but I need you to come to my defense too. Not allow Jace to punish me in the ways he always does whenever I have displeased him. Not assume I can handle Baela and Rhaena isolating me for doing what was right,” I whispered, blinking rapidly to get the tears to go away. “Does Daemon know how close Alicent and you are?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

Her jaw clenched for a split second. If I were not looking for any sign that I may be right, I would miss it. With that simple little movement, I knew that even if she denied it to me, I was right.

But then she eased and smirked at me. “You assume he is not involved?” she asked.

My eyes widened. That was enough asking questions for now.

“Aemond has asked I do not announce that your betrothal to Jacaerys is on pause,” she told me after a few moments of silence. I must have had a confused look on my face because she chuckled and then continued. “He says if other lords know, they will try something idiotic.”

“Smart man, he is,” I whispered. “But they will know something is going on when Jace ignores me as he has done for weeks now.”

“It was not my intention to ignore you, my sun,” Jace’s voice sounded in my ears. I turned to my left and saw him standing in the open door way. “Did nobody tell you? I got pulled away to Dragonstone and have only just returned an hour ago.”

“I think I would know if you had gone to Dragonstone,” Mother said before I had the chance to respond.

The more I thought, the more I believed that Jace had not been here. I had been at breakfast and dinner before anyone else and he had not been there. Whenever I sent someone to get him, they merely said they could not find him. Mother and I were so used to Jace being rather dramatic when his feelings were hurt, so his avoidance of anything to do with me had not come with questions. I was merely used to it.

He sighed rather loudly, an exasperated type of sigh. It sounded like an old man whose grandchildren were irking him and trying to get him to tell him stories of war. Perhaps he had grown.

“Then it is my fault for entrusting Joffrey to tell you both. He was there when I got the letter. I would have told you myself but the matter was urgent,” he said, walking over to us.

Mother had just finished pinning the braid. She had wrapped it around itself on the back of my head. It was a hairstyle her mother did for her before she had died, in fact doing it the morning of her death. She learned to do it and wore her hair this way the day she was named heir. It felt special

When I stood from my seat to face him, I noticed his jaw drop a bit. He looked me up and down many times over. When Alicent brought this dress to me this morning, I was a bit skeptical. It was a very fancy dress made of black silk and decorated with blood red rubies. It had a matching black silk cape that fastened around my neck, leaving only the area just above my cleavage visible. I wore earrings made of silver and a jewel called green tourmaline, a beautiful green with secondary tones of blue. It was, apparently, the closest one could get to a Velaryon House colored stone. I wore black shoes that bared the top of my feet, giving the style of my bed slippers but more durable. The outfit was modest, not showing enough skin to be considered indecent, but yet the fabric clung to my every curve in a way that felt completely indecent.

“You are so beautiful,” he said quietly.

“I feel a bit like a ham stuffed in a stocking,” I whispered, biting her lip.

“You are not a ham,” he said before offering a smile.

He was in a rather lovely outfit himself. His shirt was made of matching black silk, though it did not cling to him in such a way. It was fitted, giving him shape but hiding the further intricacies of his body. He was wearing fitted pants as well, making me blush a bit at how amazing his body looked in them.

“So what business did you attend in Dragonstone?” I asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“Sheepstealer was causing more trouble than usual,” he told the both of us. “As Prince of Dragonstone, the concerns of that island are mine own.”

Before Mother could say anything, I hugged him tightly. “Next time come get me yourself. If I am to be your Queen I need to be involved with your matters,” I said instinctually.

It occurred to me after I said it that I may not end up as his Queen. The possibility of that had never been present in my mind. It was always our plan in life that we would rule side by side, never one without the other. Any other reality made me ache.

My heart ached and it felt ridiculous. I am stuck choosing between two men that I love with everything in me. If I wanted to be really technical, I have three choices, though I could not name how I feel about Aegon. They love me the same. How silly it felt of me to be saddened by either possibility when no matter what I would love happily.

“I apologize, my sun,” he said quietly, hugging me to him just as tightly. “You are right, of course. I cannot hope to be a good King if I do not consider my Queen’s words on every decision.”

My heart fluttered against my chest. He still considered our marriage an inevitability, not just a possibility. He still thought of us being married and ruling together.

“Allow me to stay with you until it is time for your entrance?” he asked me. I nodded eagerly.

Mother looked between the two of us. Her gaze settled on me, her eyes searching my face. I gave her a subtle nod. She needed to know I had to be with him.

When she left the room, the doors still wide open behind her, I leaned into Jace’s arms. The world felt calm when he held me. The universe knew, somehow, that he was who I needed as my twin. He and I were balanced perfectly.

“You truly thought I was ignoring you?” he asked once I pulled away.

I looked down at the ground for a moment before looking back to him. He was looking at my with sad eyes. It hurt my heart to see him look like that.

“Yes. I thought you were upset enough that you were punishing me,” I told him.

He nodded and took my hand in his. “I’m sorry. Both for making you think that, and for what happened that night. It was not my place to act in such a way.”

“In truth, I think it is more your place than Aemond’s,” I admitted to him. I sighed quietly then looked to him. “You had a point. You are my twin, who I am formally betrothed to.”

He smiled at me. His smile was beautiful in a way that one had to see to understand. If you could imagine the way the prettiest sunrise makes you feel, that is how his smile makes me feel.

“You know, I like that you’ve grown your hair out. It’s quite curly, and you look amazing,” I told him. That simple of a compliment was enough to make him blush.

Jace and I felt so different than Aemond and I felt. With him there were no games. No constant battle for control. Our love for each other was simple and pure, uncaring of who was in control. I longed for the days when he was the only one who held a piece of me. It was so much simpler then.

“You always used to beg for me to grow it out,” he said with a smile on his face.

“And I was not wrong to,” I told him, smirking at him. “You look handsome. Classical. Like the prince from a fairytale.”

He reached his hand out towards me. I took it immediately, our fingers intertwining. He had somewhat of a sad smile on his face even though his eyes were sparkling like they normally did.

“It was never about us, was it?” he asked me. I couldn’t help the confusion that crossed my face at his question. “I mean…you are able to be complete with all of us, yes? Me, Aemond, even Aegon. The different sides of you that we all see, that is what makes you whole, and so it was never about one of us being better than another, but it was all about you feeling completed.”

As he spoke, he squeezed my hand. My throat felt as though it was beginning to close. All I could do was nod. I had no argument, no further explanation for him.

When Jace pulled me to sit on his lap, I could feel tears begin to prick at my eyes. The way he was so adamant about holding me close scared me. It almost felt like he was about to tell me he was done, that he didn’t want me anymore.

“I wish I could be the only one you need,” he said softly, placing his hand on my cheek. “I could never make you unhappy, issa dāria, and I thought giving you the time to find which you wanted would be the way to make you happy. But I realized something.”

“If this is your way of explaining to me you do not wish to marry me anymore, please just say it outright. This feels more cruel,” I whispered, letting out a shaky breath.

He shook his head softly. “Not at all. I could never love anyone else. I merely want to say that I have realized you have told me what would make you happy since we were children, and I was too selfish to ever consider it.”

My brain tried to understand what he was saying, to really grasp his meaning. But I could feel my heart banging against my chest as though it could already sense his next words. There was no way he was actually about to say it, was there?

“If marrying both Aemond and I is what will make you happy, I will no longer fight against it. I do not know how everything will work, I do not know how Aegon will fit into it, but I know that I love you and you love me. In the end, that is all that matters to me,” he told me, wiping away a tear that I had not been aware escaped my eye.

My entire life I had been begging for this. My entire life I knew that I was always meant to be with them, that my fate intertwined with theirs. I had convinced myself it was selfish and impossible.

I looked everywhere along his face, trying to find any uncertainty or reluctance. Yet, no matter how desperately I searched, there was none. He spoke the truth and his mind was made up.

“I imagine you already have thoughts as to how you wish it to work,” I whispered. He smiled at me and leaned forward to give me a gentle, albeit brief, kiss.

“Ideally we wait for certain things. You and I marry and give ourselves a couple of years so that we can have a child without question. I will not try to stop you from being with either of them in that time, I merely hope you will respect me enough to take precautions. Then after a couple of years, you and Aemond marry in the Valyrian tradition. Everything else I figure we will take it as it comes,” he said softly, running his thumb over my cheek again and again.

“And you truly love me enough for this?” I asked him. If there was any part of him that had any doubts, I could not ask him to do this.

“When I was in Dragonstone, I found letters. Many more than I ever thought had been shared, and in truth I should not have read any of them. But they were letters that Mother had received from Daemon, from our Aunt Laena, from our fathers, even from Alicent. All of these letters were discussing life and love in ways I had never thought of such,” he told me.

I placed my hand on the one of his that rested on my cheek. Simultaneously, I was pulling him further into me while holding him. He did not need to say anything else about them.

While I had not seen any from Alicent, I did once find nearly a box stuffed with letters. It was hard to piece together everything without Mother’s words, but I had an idea. Letters from Daemon and Laena talking about longing for Mother’s company, how they should have always been raising us and Rhaena and Baela together from the start. Letters from Ser Harwin, which I am almost certain he would hide for her to find instead of them being sent with a raven, describing her beauty and how she glowed when she was pregnant, thanking her for giving him such blessings. Ser Laenor’s were always phrased as though he was talking to his dearest friend, describing to her the beauty of the sea on the few trips out he went on after their marriage.

I could not honestly say I understood all the implications of them when I first read them. If I were being honest, they confused me more than told me anything. But when I thought back on them, I felt similarly to Jace. They teach more about love than most are willing to openly admit. That love does not always mean you find one person and that was it, after that person you were doomed to be alone.

“And your plans for you?” I asked him. I needed to know. If for no other reason, than if I felt too strongly about him talking about being with someone else, I couldn’t take him up on this. It had to be fair.

“I told you, I will never love anyone else,” he told me with a firmness that I had never heard from him. It was very Kingly of him. “I was not with anyone while you were away, but not because I never tried. After a couple of years, I tried. I tried to find love, I tried to find someone that could make the pain of losing you manageable. But after every person I met, I came to my chambers alone, still praying to every god imaginable you would be returned. I never even got so much as a kiss because any person I spoke with just made me ache more for you.”

“My darling, I never thought it could be so difficult for you,” I whispered. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

He kissed me softly. It truly was the best way to shut me up. And this kiss felt so good. It was like it was the beginning of everything.

#dividers by benkeibear #jacaerys velaryon x reader #aegon targaryen ii #out of time #aemond targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #daemyra #rhaenyra targaryen

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